My Name Is Dorcas
I can remember the day my mother took my brother and me to watch a pantomime. I remember how tightly I held her hand because large crowds frightened me and I was being pressed on every side by so many people. There was such a gabble of voices that I was feeling sick inside my stomach by the noise. My brother who was three years older than me was very bold and just marched on up the carpeted stairs to find our seats.
My mother handed the tickets to the big man with moustaches who stood at the door; he had looked at them, and then looked at us, smiled, and opened the door wide for us to go into the theatre. He even patted me on the head and made my bonnet go awry so that I had to fidget about to set it straight again.
People were coming in and taking their seats all around us. The buzz of noise that was everywhere seemed to echo all around me in this vast auditorium and the men in the orchestra pit were getting their instruments ready for the performance.
I sat down and pulled off my bonnet. I looked all around me and saw golden cherubs, golden roses, and golden ribbons decorating scarlet velvet drapes. Oh, it was like entering a magic world. Even though the plush on the seats prickled my legs through my skirt, I felt myself lifted up and buoyant. I was entranced.
I had never stepped inside such a place before that evening. I can see myself now, a little girl of five years old, eyes wide and round, mouth just as wide and round, and as still as a mouse. The buzz of voices died down. Music began and I can see myself leaning forward, ready to drink in all the wonders of those brief few hours, captivated and transported to another world and then rather rudely returned back to the bleak reality of my own life.
The performance was Cinderella. My heart tightened inside when I saw the poor little girl struggling to make everyone happy and not succeeding -- so poor, so hungry and cold. Like me, I thought, like me. Then the fairy godmother coming and everything turning out wonderful for her. Oh, how pretty, how lovely, how wonderful.
Then the lights dimmed, there was the applause, and the actors coming to take their bow. The music ended. I remember how I just sat there waiting for it all to happen again, and wondering where all the magic had gone.
Mother came and took my hand. I protested that I didn’t want to go, and started to cry. People passed by and smiled at us, and Mother got embarrassed and gave me a little shake. I looked at the stage and realized that my few hours of wonderment were now over.
We left the theatre, Mother taking my hand tightly in her own, and bowing her head against the sleet that was throwing itself at us. I saw others getting into carriages, little girls with thick coats with their hands in muffs and pretty boots buttoned right up being lifted into the carriages by their footmen. I wondered why it was that I had to walk in my thin coat and dress against the bleak wind and sleet with my Mother who coughed so much and my brother who spoke so little.
Father was home already when we arrived and he picked me up and swung me high. I loved my Father. Oh I could hug him and hug him even now, if only he were still alive. I held him close that night because I knew that it was because of him that we had been able to get to the theatre.
My Mother had explained it all as we had walked there earlier. Father had found a wallet with lots of money in it. I mean, really a lot of money. We were poor people and father worked in a foundry to pay all the bills but there was never enough money to get us things like pretty clothes and tickets to the theatre. One of the things I loved about my father was that he was SO honest. He had looked at the wallet and found an address in it and took the wallet right to the house and asked if he could see the master there.
He told us that he just knew the wallet didn’t belong to anyone else there; there was just too much money in it for it to belong to any of the servants. He was allowed into the hallway and told to wait. He said he had never seen so many people standing around doing precious little for their keep as he did then. He had to wait ten minutes before a man came and asked him what he wanted.
“Are you Mr. Ruthven?” he asked very politely, and when the man said he was Mr. Ruthven’s butler, and it wasn’t Mr. Ruthven’s policy to see people the likes of my father, well, my father was all for turning right round and walking home, with the wallet. He just drew himself up real tall and said, “Please ask Mr. Ruthven if I have his permission to spend what I have found which I believe he has lost …” and he stared that butler right in the eye as though to say, ‘So there!”
A big tall man came next. He had reddish hair and Father said he had the biggest moustache he had ever seen. He walked down the stairs and came face to face with my father, “I believe you found something that I recently lost?” he said in a haughty voice.
“I did, sir. If you could care to tell me what you lost then perhaps it might be the thing I found.”
The man must have liked the way my Father spoke up to him for he smiled and told my father he had lost his wallet and it had contained a lot of money. How much exactly was my Father’s next question and the man had gone rather red in the face at that and said how much, and then father produced the wallet and put it in the mans hands.
The man thanked my Father and turned away from him. My father said that he was thinking how arrogant these people were who had so much money that they couldn’t even spare time to say ‘Thank you’ like most folk would, when the man turned, “Tell me, do you have children?”
“Two, sir, a boy and a little girl.”
“I have none, but…” He put his hand in his pocket and took out some tickets, the tickets father later gave mother for the theatre. “Take these, for your children. Leave your name and address with my man here; I may contact you later.”
My father said that he stood there a while with his mouth open, just staring at the tickets and wondering what to say, so he said ‘Thank you’ and left the house.
That was how we got to see the theatre and I saw wonderful magic and was so happy for a few hours.
That was how my father got involved with Mr. Ruthven, and within a few weeks, my father was dead because of Mr. Ruthven. I never knew what had happened, or how it happened. I only know that father stopped working for the foundry and started working for Mr. Ruthven because my father was so honest.
I remember being asleep and there was a loud knock on the door. It kept on and on until it woke us all up. Mother went to the door and I heard some voices, very low, very quiet. I lay there shivering for the night was cold, my blanket was thin and some kind of fear tickled the bottom of my stomach. Then I heard my mother give a cry, like a scream, like an animal caught in a trap. I heard my brother’s footsteps running down the hall to the door but I couldn’t move. I kept my eyes tightly shut and curled myself into as small a ball as I could. I was scared to move in case I was sick.
After that a lot happened all at once. There were policemen coming to the house. Mother went away during the day, and then when she came home, she would sit down and cry. Later on a lady came to the house. She was called Madeleine Ruthven. She wore a very beautiful black gown with a cape that shone with black jet beads sewn on it. She looked so lovely sitting there beside my mother, who was dressed in her best black dress that was shiny from so much wear, and in some places, worn through. They spoke together for a long time, their heads close together and their voices very low. Richard and I had been banished to our rooms, but we lingered near the door so that we could overhear what they were saying. None of it made sense to me, so after a while I went to the window and looked out into the street.
It had been snowing and there were heaps of snow piled up in the street. We lived in a brownstone tenement in New York. There were lots of families like mine here. We were America’s poor, but we were honest, hard working and we loved our country. We also got sick easily, went hungry often, and couldn’t always get to school. Richard and I were more fortunate than many because Mother had been a teacher before she got married, so she taught us the necessary three R’s.
Then suddenly we were packing things away into boxes. Mother had a new coat and bonnet and boots, as did Richard and I. I doubt if we ever looked so smart in all our lives and I can still remember the wonderment I felt when I had seen those clothes laid out on the bed in front of me. But, here we were, ready to say good bye to New York, to our tenement and our neighbors. I hadn’t a clue where we were going but held onto my mother’s hand as we went to the railway station. I looked about me at everything with a little thrill of excitement trickling through every bone. Perhaps the lady in black had been our fairy godmother, and now we were going to be whisked away to a wonderful, wonderful new world.
Well, we ended up in Virginia City, and it was during our journey there that I first met up with Joseph Cartwright.
Oh, I should mention, my name is Dorcas.
************
The journey was so long. Every morning I would wake up determined to enjoy the day, to be less annoying to mother, and to be good. I tried very hard but I often failed. The train journey was so long, so long and tedious. For a little girl of five, it was very hard to just look out of the window and enjoy the views that flashed pass. I slept often, and woke up hot and dusty.
Mother was always trying very hard to be patient, kind and lovely. It wasn’t difficult for her, not really. She was everything that was good and lovely. That was why my father had loved her so much. She wasn’t tall, she wasn’t thin, she was brown haired and blue eyed. She had a smile that was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. I wanted to be like her but it didn’t happen. I was always too thin, too tall, and too gangly. Richard was like my mother, though, even down to the smile. I suppose that was why he and Joseph got on so well.
Eventually we got to where we had to catch a stagecoach. The Overland Stage it was called and it was very, very uncomfortable. I was squished in between a fat man who insisted he had to sit by the window, and my mother, and Richard. Opposite us was a very imposing man called Ben Cartwright, his son Joseph, and another man who was called Mr. Hansworth.
Joseph Cartwright was called Little Joe. I don’t think he wanted to be called that in front of us, because he went a bit red in the face first few times, but eventually he got so used to it, and so did we, that it didn’t matter so much. He was thin and not so very tall. He was 7 years old when we met, and he and his Pa were on their way back to Virginia City from a trip to friends in San Francisco. I don’t think I had ever seen a boy who so resembled a floor mop before and who talked so much. He had the most amazing tumble of thick curly hair I’d ever seen. He was also a mass of freckles and had lost two teeth.
At first, we had just sat looking at one another, and Mr. Cartwright had been very courteous and introduced himself and Joe to us, and he introduced Mr. Hansworth and the other man and then Ma introduced herself and us.
“I’m Alicia Mannering and these are my children, Richard and Dorcas”
“A pretty name for a pretty little girl,” Mr. Cartwright said and he shook my hand very nicely, and then he said something nice to Richard and shook his hand too, but I was too wrapped up in the fact that someone had said I was pretty. Pa had been the only person to tell me that, and Ma of course, but I had never really believed them.
Mr. Hansworth introduced himself, and was very softly spoken. He was the bank manager of the First National Bank in Virginia City. After the introductions, everyone sat back as though wondering what to say next. Mother looked out of the window and I watched Joe and Richard while I hugged into her.
Oh this journey had been so very long. I was so tired of all the different places we had slept in, all the different vehicles we had travelled on, and the fact that it just never seemed to come to an end. I never knew how my mother had managed to pay for the different boarding houses and travelling expenses, I wasn’t even sure then why we were going so far from New York; all I knew was that I had nothing now to call my own but the clothes I wore and the doll that I kept with me. Her name was Clarabelle.
Richard and Joe looked at one another, as though working out whether or not going beyond that stage would be worthwhile. Richard was the older of the two. My brother was a nice looking boy, very dependable and with a good sense of humor. His grey blue eyes looked at Joe’s face and he smiled; Joe smiled. That was all it took for the two of them to decide that they were going to be good friends.
“Do you play baseball?” Richard asked.
“Nope.”
“You don’t? Ain’tcha got a baseball team back home?”
“Nope - just me and my brother. I got me a pony.” A gap toothed smile followed this statement.
“A real one?”
“Sure a real one. He’s called Brandy.”
“Is he big?”
“Big enough.” Joe looked over at me, “Do you have a pony?” he asked but I just shook my head and ducked away from them, hiding more closely under my mother’s arm.
“There ain’t no place in New York tenements to keep a pony,” Richard explained gravely.
“Oh.” Joe nodded as though he understood. He told me later he didn’t even know what a tenement was so he wasn’t really so clever. “You can come and ride mine if you like.”
“Can I?”
“Sure you can.” He grinned at Richard; this was a seal of friendship. I just knew that it wouldn’t include me, so left them to their chatter.
Mother was talking in her soft voice, telling them how father had recently died and that she was travelling to Virginia City to join her brother. At last, now I knew why we were taking this journey. I hadn’t realized I had an uncle in Virginia City. I wondered if she had ever mentioned it, or whether I had shut myself off in a little world of my own so completely that it hadn’t penetrated my consciousness.
“What’s your brother’s name?” Mr. Hansworth asked kindly.
“Michael Burgess. He runs a store.”
“Oh yes, of course. I know Mr. Burgess.” Mr. Hansworth smiled and nodded, “Will you be working with him in the store, Mrs. Mannering?”
“Possibly.” A little furrow appeared across Mother’s brow. “I was a teacher before I had the children…”
“A school teacher?” Mr. Cartwright interrupted, “But that’s wonderful. It’s just what Virginia City needs.”
Mr. Hansworth looked at Mother and then at Mr. Cartwright, and then I saw him smile as well as he nodded. “We surely do. We’ve only recently begun to build the school house and were going to advertise in papers back east for a teacher. Would you consider taking on the position, Mrs. Mannering.”
“I don’t know.” Mother sat back against the hard surface of the seat and looked at them both, “Wouldn’t it be better for me to have a proper interview?”
“Madam, I’m afraid that we are yet not so civilized as back east. If we see an opportunity come by, we grab at it in case we lose out on it altogether.” Mr. Cartwright laughed, a warm, deep treacle laugh. It made me smile and he smiled back at me, “You’d come to school if your Mama was the teacher, wouldn’t you, Dorcas?”
I nodded and clung tighter than ever to Clarabelle. I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Joe and Richard look at one another and express disgust at the very thought.
So that was how my Mother became the first school teacher at the Virginia City school, built from Ponderosa pine, and having exactly nine pupils.
***********
My Uncle Burgess, as he preferred to be called, was a quiet man. He was very polite and formal. He shook our hands and welcomed us as we clambered down from the stagecoach. He took Mother’s bag and asked a porter to carry the big trunk and valise to the store, but Richard and I were left to carry our own things. Not that they amounted to much nor were they very heavy but it just showed that right from the start he didn’t really want to be too involved with us.
Mr. Cartwright, Mr. Hansworth and the man whose name I can’t remember tipped their hats to Mother and bade her farewell. They all shook our hands too and Mr. Cartwright gave us each some money ‘for candy’. Mr. Hansworth said to Mother that she was to visit him as soon as possible so that arrangements could be made about her ‘position’. I saw my Uncle look rather surprised and cast an anxious look at my Mother. I wondered if he would be angry because he got the same kind of furrow on his brow as Mother would get if she were displeased about anything.
Virginia City at this time was nothing like it is now. This was 1849 and there were very few real buildings. Those that existed were very new and stood out as grand and tall. There were many people milling around, though, streaming out from shanty cabins, tents and odd looking ‘homes’ made up of barrels and tarpaulin. There was a really big half-built timber frame place with tarpaulin flapping about with a big wooden sign saying Saloon.
I had never seen so many people so clearly defined as very rich or very poor. I wondered in which category we slipped into and decided we were the very poor. I held onto Clarabelle as tightly as possible. I don’t think I had ever seen so many children with such obvious signs of poverty upon them. They were there because their fathers had the ‘gold fever’ and most times the ‘gold fever’ ended up with pneumonia or tuberculosis and death. At the same time, some of those children would suddenly be swept into wealth and live their lives riding around in carriages, going to school in Europe, never knowing hunger again. That was the lottery of their lives.
Uncle Burgess took us to one of the buildings and opened the door. It was the store. A big double-fronted store that sold just about everything, or rather, in my ignorance at that time, it seemed as though it did. Through the door we traipsed and came to another.
“This is your home.” he said simply and we stepped in behind him and entered a big room.
Mother looked around her and smiled. It was so light and so big. She touched the back of a chair, an ornament, the table. She looked at Burgess and smiled. “Thank you, Burgess.”
He was pleased that she liked it, and pointed out the other rooms. I looked about and saw some cobwebs and the biggest ever spiders. Richard had gone to the window and was looking out at the yard.
“Where’s your room, Burgess?” Mother asked and he smiled,
“I live upstairs, above the store. I - I haven’t lived here since Gwen died.”
I watched his face then; his mouth tightened into a little button, and the furrow appeared on his brow just like the one Mother would have if she were worried or angry, “I eat at the restaurant…”
“But you must eat here, with us, Burgess, now that we are here as family.” She said that very kindly and he nodded, and touched her hand as though in gratitude.
I hadn’t seen any restaurant. Only those horrible tumbled-down buildings. Perhaps it was one of the new buildings that stood so tall and grand, but I don’t think they cooked much good food from the looks of Uncle Burgess. He was just about as thin as a man could be and I felt sure that some of mothers good cooking would soon fatten him up.
“Of course, your help in the store will be of immense help,” Burgess sighed, “It’s always so busy…”
“I shall help all I can,” Mother replied, “but I have agreed to teach at the school.”
There was that little button mouth again. This time the furrow on his brow was really deep. It’s hard for children to understand adults at times; mostly we tread around them by instinct, and my instinct told me that Uncle Burgess was not too pleased about this development. I looked over at Richard and joined him at the window.
Mother and Uncle retreated to where the kitchen was situated and I could hear their voices, although not what they actually said. I looked out of the window and watched people hurrying here and there like so many ants from an ant hill. I felt homesick. I wanted to be able to look out of the window and see proper traffic … horse-drawn cabs, people who wore proper clothing, hard working people and children who played in the streets with their hoops and ropes. I wanted my father to come up and put his arm around me.
“Don’t be frightened,” Richard was looking down at me and smiled at me, so kindly, “I’ll look after you, Dorcas, I promise.”
We stood together by that window for quite some time before Mother came and called us to pay attention to what she was to tell us. I remember her face was rather red and Uncle Burgess was standing with his arms folded looking very cross. Richard took hold of my hand and held it tightly while Mother explained that this was going to be our new home, that we were to behave ourselves, not go into the store without permission, not to touch anything that belonged to Uncle Burgess, not to wander out into the town without her or Uncle Burgess, and now to say thank you to our Uncle (which we did).
Uncle Burgess then left the room and closed the door very firmly behind him. Mother came and with a bright smile said “How about we explore and see which room you would like for your bedroom?”
As there were only two bedrooms, or rooms that could be used as such, there wasn’t really much choice, and it didn’t take that long to make it. We hauled in our belongings, and by the time mother was preparing our evening meal, everything was done. For the time being, Richard and I were to share a room. There were two small trundle beds in the room already, both with very lumpy mattresses.
I can’t recall eating that first meal in our new home. Richard teased me and said that I fell asleep and nearly went face down into my plate. I only remember waking up suddenly during a dark night and wondering where I was - and being very frightened. I clung tightly to Clarabelle and called for Richard but everywhere was quiet except for the dull thudding noise of the mine workings, which was the constant feature of the town. Shadows were unfamiliar and moved across the ceiling, and for a long time I remained in my bed weeping with fright until sleep finally claimed me.
***********
We settled into our new routine. Mother went to see Mr. Hansworth and it was confirmed that she would start school the following Monday. Although this didn’t please Uncle Burgess, she promised to help in the store when she wasn’t at school so that was a good compromise. She would work for him unpaid to compensate for having the house. But she was really pleased with the wage she would receive for schooling, and for the first time since father died, I saw the light shining in her eyes again and she would sing while she was preparing our meals.
Both Richard and I enjoyed reading, so to avoid annoying Uncle Burgess, we would stay in the big sitting room and read, or play with the few toys we had brought with us. We had a few chores to do, of course, and always did them first thing and without Mother having to ask us.
“Mother, I saw Mr. Cartwright today,” Richard said a few days after we had settled in. “He asked after you.”
“That was nice of him” was my Mother’s only comment.
“He wanted to know if you would like to go and see where he lived. He wanted us all to go there.”
Mother’s brow furrowed. She looked at me and then at Richard as though undecided as to what to do.
Uncle Burgess huffed and puffed as usual. “He’s never asked me there, not all the time I’ve been here,” he grumbled.
“I think it’s because of Little Joe, his son.” Mother said quietly, “Perhaps he wants to discuss about his education.”
“Education! Huh!” Uncle Burgess attacked his meal so angrily that he slopped gravy over Mother’s nice white tablecloth and dribbled it down his chin.
“He said he would call round tomorrow morning, but if it wasn’t alright with you, he would understand.” Richard said, but I could see from his eyes that he was telling her more than that; he was really begging her to say yes.
“If you get your chores done, then we shall see,” she replied and gave him a little curt nod which meant more than what she had said too. It meant yes, we could all go.
The morning came and it was very warm and pleasant. I can remember that the sounds of the mines were louder than ever because the air was so still. Mr. Cartwright came driving a wagon in which there were some sacks of flour, beans and potatoes. He had a great big smile on his face and his dark eyes - and he had very dark eyes - seemed to glow like coals. He took off his hat and looked up at Mother and I could see his face go soft, just like my father’s would when he saw mother at certain times … as though he couldn’t believe that he was seeing someone so pretty, except that my father really loved my Mother, and at the time I wasn’t sure why Mr. Cartwright would be looking at my Mother like that …
“Good morning, Mr. Cartwright,” she said and smiled as he took her hand, “It’s a lovely day.”
“It certainly is, Mrs. Mannering.” He smiled and helped her up onto the wagon seat, “Now then,” he looked at us, “you won’t mind sharing the wagon with some sacks of flour and such, will you? I can promise you some fresh sugar doughnuts when we get to the Ponderosa, and apple pie too.”
“Oh boy!” Richard’s eyes flew open wide, “I haven’t had doughnuts for years and years.”
“I haven’t had any,” I said.
Mr. Cartwright laughed and put his hand very gently on my head. “Well, you’ll love these; Hop Sing makes the best ones you’ll ever taste in your life.”
I looked at Richard who winked at me as though we were sharing some kind of big secret. Mr. Cartwright lifted me up and swung me into the back of the wagon, and then helped Richard who settled in beside me.
I can’t recall the conversation my Mother and Mr. Cartwright had along the way to the Ponderosa, except that somewhere along the ride she began to call him Ben and he called her Alicia. He would stop every so often and point out some of the views to us. Sometimes he talked about it like he was saying poetry. It was easy to see, even as a child, that this land of his meant a great deal to him.
When the wagon rolled into the yard, Little Joe Cartwright seemed to appear as though from the ground. He seemed so pleased to see Richard, and my brother was just as excited as seeing him that he didn’t wait for Mr. Cartwright to help him out of the wagon but clambered down himself, leaving me quite alone, except for Clarabelle.
“Hi.”
I jumped and turned to where the voice came from and saw a big boy standing close by. Mr. Cartwright was helping Mother down and had turned to help me, but seeing his son there, he left us in order to escort Mother into the house.
The boy began to unpin the tailgate, and when it was lowered he looked at me and smiled. That was the first time I had seen Hoss Cartwright. I know Richard and I don’t look particularly alike, but it was very hard to see how little skinny Joe could be brother to this person.
Hoss Cartwright was tall and big built, which made him look older than he really was, which was unfortunate. He had the nicest face and kindest smile I had ever seen. I think he was the first person I had ever met of whom I felt not even a twinge of fear.
“Need a hand?” he said, and before I could answer, he had lifted me up and swung me down onto the ground, “I was coming to help Hop Sing with the groceries; didn’t expect to find such a pretty one hiding in among 'em.”
“Thank you very much,” I replied and looked shyly around me. “My name is Dorcas Mannering.” But I was still looking around; there was so much to see, and it was all wonderful.
“I’m Hoss Cartwright. Wal, my real name’s Eric but people call me Hoss.”
I looked at him again and realized that he was really quite shy. He smiled again, awkward and he twitched his shoulders nervously,
“My father had a friend called Hoss,” I heard myself saying, “His real name was Horst, but he said in his country people called him Hoss. It means someone who is kind and gentle. My Mother taught him to speak good English.”
“Shucks, fancy that. I ain’t never met anyone who knew anyone else called Hoss,” he observed and he pulled out two big sacks of flour from the wagon as easily as winking. “Hop Sing’s cooked up a batch of sugar doughnuts.”
“Your Pa said he had, I’ve not had any doughnuts before …”
“You haven’t?” He paused as though he couldn’t believe his eyes, “Shucks, where do you come from, fer Pete’s sake?”
“New York.” I replied proudly, and smiled, “Are you very old, Hoss?”
“Nope, guess not. Guess I’m 12, getting on fer 13.” He led me along to the door which led into the kitchen, “I’m 5 years old than Little Joe. My brother Adam, he’s five years older’n me.”
“I didn’t know you had another brother.” I frowned, and looked around me and then jumped back in surprise as a man approached looking at me with a big smile. “Are you Adam?” I asked, thinking that this ’brother’ looked even less like a brother than ever.
“Shucks, this here is Hop Sing. He’s our friend. He cooks here.”
“Hop Sing cook missy sugar doughnuts, sugar candy mouse, apple pie. You come and see.”
He took my elbow and gently led me to a table whereupon was laid a veritable pyramid of doughnuts. There were little candy mice with sugar icing eyes, and the biggest apple pie I’d ever seen … not that I had seen many in my life time.
Hoss put down the sacks and picked up a doughnut which he gave to me; he smiled and picked one up for himself,
“How old are you then?” he asked taking a big bite and covering his lips with sugar, which he licked slowly clean.
“I’m nearly six.”
He nodded, licked his fingers clean and then told Hop Sing that he would go and get the other things from the wagon. This left me alone with this strange man who was nodding and smiling at me with the biggest smile on his face.
“You like lemonade? You eat up doughnut quick before Hoss come back. He take doughnut each time he come in room and soon no doughnut left. You eat quick now.”
So I did. I don’t think I had ever tasted anything so delicious in my life before, even though I didn’t like the fact that the sugar coated my lips and fingers.
There was a noise at the door and I turned to see Richard and Little Joe tumbling into the room. They were laughing together, nudging one another and play fighting the way boys do when pleased to be in one another’s company.
“Doughnuts – here, Richard, taste these.”
Hoss came in behind them bearing two more sacks of something or other, and these he put away before approaching the table and taking another doughnut. He turned to me and winked. I felt I had found a friend.
************
The day passed. Richard rode on the pony and fell off twice, but got up laughing. Joe said that when Richard had learned to ride properly he would get his Pa to find a pony for him to ride whenever he came to the Ponderosa. They told me I couldn’t ride a pony because I was a girl and wearing skirts. I didn’t mind; Clarabelle didn’t like ponies anyway.
We went into the big barn and played in it. Mostly hide and seek. We made a tremendous mess of the hay, but Mr. Cartwright didn’t seem to mind. Hoss joined in too; it was one of the best days for laughing and being happy I had experienced in so long that I didn’t want the day to end.
We had a meal with them. There were a lot of creamy potatoes, rich gravy with onions, and meat, probably beef, but I can’t remember now. Mr. Hop Sing could cook an old boot and make it taste wonderful, of that I am sure.
Afterwards, we sat around the big fireplace. Richard and Joe disappeared to Joe’s room; we could hear their feet upon the ceiling and their chatter drifted through to us. Hoss sat in a blue chair that didn’t look very comfortable, and I sat with Mother on a stripy settee.
“So where is your other son, Ben? You have mentioned him several times today, but he isn’t here, is he?”
Mr. Cartwright was pouring coffee into some cups. Hoss and I had glasses of lemonade. Mr. Cartwright smiled very nicely at Mother. “He’s at college, back east.” I could recognize the note of pride in his voice and looked at my Mother who was obviously very impressed, “He should return in another year.”
“But I thought you said you had spent most of your time travelling, with Adam and Hoss, until you found the Ponderosa? What schooling did they have?”
“I taught them the basics. Adam was always…” He paused and I could see that he was trying to rephrase the sentence. Instinct told me that he realized that what he had been about to say would have been unkind in front of Hoss. He smiled. “Adam had a thirst for knowledge. Wherever we stopped over, he would go to the school house, if there was one, and get some schooling there. When I married Joe’s mother, she taught Hoss and Adam here, at home.” He paused then, but for a different reason and I felt that was because he was thinking about her, Little Joe’s mother.
“Is Hoss coming to school on Monday with Little Joe?” Mother asked. She looked at Hoss and smiled. “What do you think, Hoss? Would you like to come along?”
Hoss’ face flushed bright red. He looked appealingly at his father who lifted his eyebrows as though to say he was leaving the answering to him, so Hoss shrugged. “I reckon I’m too old, Ma’am”
“Well, 12 isn’t too old, really. Think about it, Hoss. It would be good to have you there too.” She smiled one of her special smiles, and he blushed again.
It was time to return home. Joe and Richard came downstairs and somehow or other managed to persuade my mother and Mr. Cartwright for Richard to stay at the Ponderosa until Sunday after church. I returned home sitting on the wagon seat squished between Mr. Cartwright and Mother. Before I fell asleep on the way home, I wondered if I was going to spend all my life squished between two people because it seemed to me I was doing a fair share of being squeezed between folk since we had left New York.
**********
Life settled into a comfortable routine. School was enjoyable but then I enjoyed learning. Even at my age, I was a good student. Richard and Joe were like twins, always with one another. Little Joe didn’t really pay me much attention, although he did seem to notice if I had a new dress or new hairstyle and would compliment me very nicely. However, I noticed he did that to all the girls … well, to the other two girls who attended classes.
Hoss never attended school after all. A lot of children just didn’t come. Their parents needed them to work and refused to let them. Some children were already working at the mines, or working at their own family diggings. Some women were dependent on their eldest children working in order to provide them money to live upon.
I should mention that, at this point of time, the town wasn’t really a town. It was just a settlement called Eagle Station, or some people just called it The Washoe. Old prospectors called it Washoe; it was an old Indian name for the area.
Sometimes we had as many as twenty children in class and then it would go down to nine. It was always a steady nine and we worked hard for Ma. Even Little Joe would set to with his work, getting as much ink on him as on the paper.
On Fridays, Hop Sing would come with the wagon and take Joe and Richard to the Ponderosa. We would get my brother back on the Sunday. Once a month, Ma and I were invited along as well. Uncle Burgess came once, but declined going again for some reason or another.
“Dorcas, I got something for ya”
Hoss’ face was rather flushed as he strode up to me and I felt quite excited that perhaps he had got me a present - a book perhaps, or a new doll, although I could never part with Clarabelle.
“Have you, Hoss? What is it? Can I see it now? Where is it?”
“Come with me.” He held out his hand and held onto mine to lead me to the stables.
“Pa said it would be just right for ya. What do you think? Ain’t he a beauty?”
Well, not to me he wasn’t. He was just a pony, a fat little brown pony that looked at me in much the same way as I looked at him. Disgusted and disappointed, I think, would sum up both our feelings.
I shrunk back and pulled my hand out of Hoss’ and shook my head. “I don’t like ‘im,” I whispered.
“Shucks, don’t take on so. You will like him once you get to know him. Look…” He shuffled about in his pocket and produced some sugar lumps, “Put these on your hand and feed him.”
He opened my hand and put the sugar lumps on the flat of my palm and then, holding my wrist, offered my hand to the pony. After staring at me with utter contempt, the creature came and took the sugar lumps; his chin was soft and smooth, and he nibbled gently. I felt quite proud of myself and looked at Hoss, who smiled at me, still holding my wrist. “See, that didn’t hurt, did it?”
“No. What’s his name?”
“Billy Boy.”
I nodded and Hoss brought me up closer to the pony and took my hand to stroke it by the neck and around the soft ears. I looked at the pony that stared at me and then looked at Hoss. “Thank you, Hoss.”
Hoss went a trifle pink and looked embarrassed; he did a funny shrugging motion with his shoulders and shook his head as though such thanks was too much. Then he straightened up and smiled. “Hey, how about I saddle him up for you and take you for a ride?”
“What? Now?”
“Sure ‘nough now. We got time, Dorcas.”
So we did - a pity - so I nodded and thanked him again. Billy Boy drooped his head and looked morose, and Hoss got out the saddle, and within minutes was turning to me with a big smile on his face. “Here y’are, Dorcas, I’ll help you up.”
I needed help; it seemed as though I were sitting astride a mountain, and when Billy Boy began to move, I felt the color draining out of me. Richard and Joe came running out to see us and I can still remember Joe’s face as he looked at me and the big smile as he yelled out, “Hey, Dorcas, you look real cute.”
I have to admit those few words did more for my pride and vanity than all the kindness and patience Hoss had shown me. I held on tight to the reins and smiled my hardest at them all. I’m not sure who walked into the house feeling the most proud, Hoss or myself.
The weeks trickled away in this pleasant fashion. I think Richard and I both thought that our Mother was fond of Mr. Cartwright and that he was fond of her. We whispered together about what would happen if they ‘fell in love and married’. Richard liked the idea because it meant he would be step-brother to Joe and Hoss. They were by now quite a formidable trio.
More buildings were shooting up around Uncle Burgess’ store. The smell of fresh pine wood lingered above the smells of the shanties and the fouled gullies that ran alongside the tracks that led in and out of the rickety buildings. Houses appeared on various lots in what people was now considering to be a township and the number of children attending school increased.
One Saturday, Mother came from her room wearing her very newest dress and spencer jacket. She was wearing a very smart hat with a feather in it and gloves that were the exact same color as her jacket. I had never seen her looking so beautiful. Richard and I just stared at her with our mouths open.
“I’m going out for a few hours,” she said with a smile, and her face looked all soft and dreamy.
Richard and I looked at one another. We both knew exactly what was happening; any moment now there would be a knock on the door … and as we thought it, so it happened. Except that the man to step through the door into the room was Mr. Hansworth, the bank manager, and not Mr. Cartwright at all. We both stood and stared with our eyes and mouths wide open now.
He was very kind and gracious. A quiet man with a pleasant face and gentle blue eyes. I doubt if he would know how to be cross with anyone. He offered his arm to Mother and she smiled and linked hers with his and after telling us to behave for Uncle Burgess they left the house.
This happened every Saturday. Richard was often at the Ponderosa with Joe and Hoss, so I was left on my own. It was very lonely but Mother was never gone more than a few hours. She was always happy and singing softly to herself when she came back from being with Mr. Hansworth.
She would decline going to the Ponderosa, so I never went again to ride Billy Boy, or sit in the big room with the books to read, and to talk to Hop Sing in the kitchen and eat whatever he had decided we would enjoy that particular day.
Mr. Hansworth eventually invited us to his house. It was one of the new buildings that we had admired some time earlier. It smelt of pine and reminded us of the Ponderosa. He had a lady who cooked for him and she was pleasant and very Irish. I half expected her to draw up a chair and eat the dinner she had prepared for us, she was that warm and friendly. It was that day that Mr. Hansworth told us that Mother had agreed to marry him.
I can’t remember exactly how I felt about it. I remembered father so well and couldn’t understand how Mother could forget him so quickly as to go off and marry someone else so soon. I tried to talk about it to Richard but he didn’t care. He was more interested in how this was going to affect his friendship with Joe and Hoss Cartwright.
***********
One day after Mr. Cartwright had brought Richard home from the Ponderosa, something happened that changed our lives a lot. Richard was taken very ill. We had one doctor in town at the time, Doctor Philip Hay. He was over-worked, over-tired, over-wrought. When he came to our house, he took one look at Richard and shook his head,
“Young Joe Cartwright’s the same.” he said quietly, “I’ve just come from the Ponderosa to see to him.”
“They’ve been together a lot. Has anyone else - any other children - become ill?” Mother asked.
“No. Not yet anyway.” He gave Mother some medicine and told her what to do, and then looked at me. “You shouldn’t be here. It would be best for you to go somewhere else; otherwise, you could get sick as well.”
I was promptly dispatched to Mr. Hansworth’s house where Brigid Murphy was told to keep a close eye on me. Clarabelle and I were treated like the most important prisoners on death row as Brigid carried out her orders implicitly.
Days ticked by and I spent them wondering if I was going to be sick, if Joe and Richard were well, if Hoss had become sick. I imagined the whole settlement becoming sick and the poor Doctor dying because he was so tired of all the sick people. Once again I was lonely and alone, and desperately missed my family.
One morning just before Brigid was going to make our lunch, Mr. Hansworth came home. He stood in the doorway and looked at me very seriously before he removed his hat and gloves. Then he came and picked me up in his arms and carried me to a big chair upon which he sat with me in his lap.
“Dorcas, I have something very difficult to tell you and I want you to be very brave.” He looked down at me and I could see his blue eyes were moist, and my heart began to pound so hard inside my chest that I thought it would burst right out of it. My ears were throbbing and I could hardly breathe.
“Is Richard very sick still?” I whispered very quietly and clung tightly to Clarabelle, but I already knew the answer, I already knew that he was dead. “Is Joe sick too?”
“Little Joe Cartwright is recovering, although he is still very unwell. But Richard…” He couldn’t say the word; his voice trailed away and he stroked my head gently, “Your Mama is very sad, Dorcas. She wants you to stay here with me for a little while longer.”
“But I want to go home. I want my Mama,” I sniveled.
He didn’t speak. He just sat there with me in his lap, stroking my hair.
***********
Mr. Cartwright and Hoss were at the funeral. Mother was very calm, and looked lovely in her black dress. Brigid stood with me, holding my hand while Mama spoke to the people there. Brigid had made Clarabelle a little black cape to wear and I had a black band on the sleeve of my best coat.
I watched Hoss all the time. He looked pale and thinner than when I had last seen him, so when at last Brigid released her hold on me, I hurried over to speak to him.
“Hoss, how is Joseph?”
“He’s doing alright, Dorcas. He’s sitting up in bed now. We have to keep the drapes closed tight ‘cos the light hurts his eyes. I thought he was going to die, Dorcas.” His eyes welled up with tears and he bowed his head, “I’m right sorry about Richard, you know that, don’tcha?”
“Yes, thank you, Hoss.”
“I’ve missed you not visiting us, Dorcas. I keep telling Billy Boy you’ll be back to ride him again soon. Do you think you will?” He looked up at me with his blue eyes wide, and then he sighed. “I guess not, huh? Not now your Ma’s marrying the bank manager.”
“I will still see you, though, won’t I?” I put my hand on his arm and tried to be very grown up. “I can come instead of Richard, can’t I?”
He sighed and shrugged,
“I don’t know, Dorcas. I don’t reckon on it bein’ quite the same…”
I was about to say something but he was called away by his father. I watched them walk away and Hoss turned his head to look back at me and raised his hand in farewell. I waved back. Then they were gone.
I saw them at times, infrequently in town, sometimes at church. Mr. Cartwright always spoke very politely to my mother, and Hoss would look at me and smile. Mother would hold my hand tightly to keep me at her side, and somehow or other Mr. Hansworth would appear which would cause Mr. Cartwright to bid his farewells and go, taking Hoss with him.
There was a new teacher at school. A lady called Abigail Jones. She was young and this was her first assignment. A month after she had been there, Little Joe returned to school.
He was thin, and his face was so much paler than I could remember. His hair must have been shorn during his illness because the wild mass of curls was gone, although the dark brown hair that had grown waved neatly about his head. He was quieter too, and because he tired easily, he was allowed to stay in during recess and catnap.
“I’m sorry about Richard,” he said to me the day he came back to school, “I bet you miss him, don’t you?”
“Yes.” I looked at him, at the poor pale face and over large eyes. “Were you very sick, Joe?”
“Ain’t never been so sick in my life before,” he admitted with a sigh. “I thought I was going to die as well.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I said very quickly.
“So’m I.” He smiled slowly and put his hand on my arm, “It was my fault, Dorcas. I persuaded Richard to come with me…”
“Come with you? Why? Where did you go?”
“It doesn’t matter where; just someplace Pa said we shouldn’t because the air was bad. But I went once before and was alright, and I found some arrow heads and all kinds of things there. Richard wanted to see them too, so I thought we’d be alright. Except that it wasn’t…” He bowed his head. “He was the best friend I ever had, ‘ceptin’ for Hoss.”
I nodded and said nothing because I didn’t know what to say, so I just leaned forward on tip toe and kissed him gently on the cheek.
**********
Two weeks later Mother married and became Mrs. Alicia Mannering Hansworth. The Cartwrights didn’t come to the wedding. The following week we left the settlement known as Eagle Station. We were no longer poor, Mother and I. Mr. Hansworth was now the bank manager of the branch in San Francisco and was a very rich man indeed.
**********
Ten Years Later…
I thought that I would recognize the landmarks of my childhood upon my returning to Virginia City. It was no more a city, of course, than Eagle Station had been a town, but it was certainly a prospering melting pot of a place. I stood on the depot sidewalk while the coachman brought down my case and looked about me in the hope of finding some familiar building but it had changed beyond recognition.
Several Chinese hurried by, deep in conversation, and I watched them pass with their long braids bouncing against their backs. I wondered then if one could have been Hop Sing, but if so, I would not have recognized him.
I asked directions for my Uncle Burgess’, and upon receiving them, asked the coachman if he would be so kind as to take my case over there. He smiled and nodded and then turned to pay attention to the other passengers.
It had been a hot, dusty and boring journey, but here I was back at the place that had played such a pivotal role in my life. I walked to Uncle Burgess’ with memories of Richard running alongside me, and, of course, with those memories of him came the ghosts of Hoss and Joe Cartwright.
A tall man in beige shirt, black vest and jeans turned up at the bottom of each leg, walked towards me and politely touched his hat as he passed. He looked deep in thought and I was surprised he had even noticed me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him disappear into the Sazarac saloon. The bat wings swung too and fro behind him.
I continued on. I had not seen Uncle Burgess since we had left ten years earlier and wondered if he would be as welcoming now as he had been when Mother, Richard and I had appeared on his doorstep.
I stopped once again to look around me. There was a rather grand Town Hall now, and on the corner of the main street was the Internationale Hotel. I tried to recall what had been there before but failed. I walked pass another saloon and crossed the road. I mean, I started to cross the road. I was so overwhelmed by the changes to the town that I hadn’t noticed a wagon bearing down on me until there was a lot of noise all around me and someone had grabbed me around the waist and hauled me off my feet.
The wagon pulled up and a young man jumped down. I was adjusting my hat and trying to restore some dignity to my deportment as he leaned down to look anxiously into my face,
“I sure am sorry about that, Miss. I just didn’t realize you were going to cross the road. Thought for certain you would have seen me.”
“I’m sorry.” I felt a strong hand grip my elbow and help me to my feet, “I’m so sorry. I was day dreaming and didn’t notice you.” I turned to my rescuer and smiled. “Thank you so much…” My voice trailed away and I think my eyes just popped wide with surprise, “Hoss? Are you Hoss Cartwright?”
The young man went a trifle pink, swiped off his hat and nodded. He glanced at the other young man rather uncertainly, so I turned to look at the wagon driver and this time I went a little pink, “Are you Joe?”
“Yes, Miss.” He smiled and his eyebrows jiggled a little as he tried to recall who I was. “I’m sorry, Miss, but do we know you?”
“I’m Dorcas - Dorcas Mannering.” and looked at them both earnestly. Surely they hadn’t forgotten me? After ten years had they forgotten Richard and his little sister? “My mother was…”
“Sure, I remember you now,” Joe cried and his face it up in a wide smile and the hazel eyes twinkled. “My word, Dorcas - Miss Mannering I mean - you sure have grown…” He looked me up and down and laughed. “Well, you sure have grown up into a swell looking woman.” He nudged his brother, “Don’t you think so, Hoss?”
Hoss gulped, he had his hat clutched tightly against his chest, and his blue eyes were just staring at me as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He nodded and blinked rather rapidly, as though recovering from some shock, and then nodded again. “You sure have, Miss Dorcas,” he mumbled and went a little pinker. “Shucks, I would never have known it was you had you not said.”
“Nor would I,” Joe cried. “I guess it must have been 8 or 9 years, hasn’t it?”
“Ten years,” I said and smiled at them both as excitement bubbled up inside me. “I would have known Hoss anywhere, but Joe, you’ve changed so much from that scrawny little kid I knew back then.”
“Hey, less of the scrawny if you please, Miss.” Joe laughed again, and it seemed to me that Joe’s life was full of laughter - he was that kind of person. “You know, of all the people to meet today…” He put his hand on my arm. “Pa will be so pleased to see you, Miss Mannering. How about coming to the Ponderosa for a visit?”
I looked at him doubtfully and then at Hoss who was looking at me so earnestly that I felt myself going a little hot in the face.
“I’ve just got off the stage.” I said and laughed a little as though it were rather funny, which it wasn’t, not really, “I’ve to see my Uncle Burgess and…”
“Shucks, of course you have.” Joe nodded and his face became serious, “Look, how about coming to our place Saturday evening. We’re having a party at the Ponderosa, and it sure would be good if you could be there too.”
I looked at him thoughtfully, and then at Hoss who was still staring at me as though he’d seen a mirage, so I nodded and agreed that I would love to be there.
“I’ll come and collect you in the buggy, shall we say around 6 o‘clock?” Joe smiled which made me feel rather giddy, so that I smiled at him again and promised to be ready by 6 p.m.
I suddenly realized that I had been staring at him rather longer than was correct so turned to look at Hoss, who smiled shyly and nodded as though prompting me to say something,
“Hoss…” I put out my hand which he took gently in his own, “I would have known you anywhere. Thank you so much for getting me out of the way of the wagon; you saved me from getting quite badly hurt.”
“Aw wal, shucks, that’s alright. You are alright, ain’tcha?” His face looked anxious and I smiled and assured him that I was just fine, apart from some bruising to my vanity. “I would have come and collected you for the party on Saturday, Miss Dorcas, but Joe…”
“I know, I understand, Hoss.” I pulled my hand away from his and then reluctantly bade them both goodbye until Saturday.
Uncle Burgess was taking my case into the store, and the coachman who had delivered it tipped his hat very pleasantly to me as I passed him. I steeled myself for the meeting with my Uncle and prepared to enter what had been my home for nearly a year.
He was looking old and tired. As he took my hand and welcomed me ‘home’, I felt sorry for him as he looked far from well. The store was the same as ever; he had always kept it immaculate.
“You look well, Dorcas.” he said, struggling with my suitcase as he tried not to knock anything over on the display shelves as he maneuvered it to the door that led to the living quarters, “You’ve grown into a lovely looking young woman. I daresay your mother is pleased with you …” He stepped back for me to pass him and enter the big room, and then he followed me inside, closing the door behind him.
It was just as I remembered. Nothing had changed at all. It could have been Sleeping Beauty’s parlor if there had been masses of cobwebs and piles of dust everywhere. But like some kind of shrine, it was positively gleaming. A bowl of flowers glowed rich colors as the sun from the window shone upon them
“These are lovely, Uncle Burgess.” They were the first words I had spoken to him and I saw his face twist with pleasure, “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he replied, looking around anxiously as though he just had to make sure that there was no errant spider about to cast a web, or a beetle about to mount the wall, “I’ve arranged for Mrs. Costello to bring us a meal from the restaurant. She’s a very good cook.”
“That was kind of you too.” I walked to the window and looked out onto the street. “Everything’s so changed. I hardly recognized a thing.”
“Oh, yes, it’s all changed; nothing stays the same,” he sighed, and joined me by the window to look down at the bustling town, “This is a very wealthy place to be, Dorcas, I’ve seen so many changes.” His voice sounded tired and wistful.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Burgess.” I said softly, because I really didn’t know what else to say. I turned away from the window because the last time I looked out of it like this, my brother was standing by my side.
“How’s your Mother? Is she well?”
“Very well. They are in Paris at the moment. They thought they would go on an European tour. That’s why I’ve taken the opportunity to visit you. You didn’t mind, did you?”
His face flushed and once again he gave that odd twisted smile. I was more convinced than ever that he was ill, and felt a pang of pity touch my heart. “I was delighted when I got your letter. I’ve been quite lonely really, since you all left.”
As though he had already said too much, he turned away and hurried to the communicating door to the store from where there could be heard the tinkling of the door bell. A customer and a ready excuse to leave.
I made my way to the bedrooms and decided to sleep in my mother’s room. I didn’t want to share the room with the memories of my brother. Over the course of ten years, the pain of loss does diminish, even though one may think of them every day and have poignant memories, but the pain is no longer there. It seemed that since I stepped back into this house, Richard’s memory was like a ghost that walked side by side with me, and it hurt, very much.
***********
I was ready at the time specified and opened the door to Little Joe who was smiling broadly as he fidgeted about on the porch.
“Hi Dorcas…” He smiled and then the smile froze and he stared at me as though seeing me for the first time. “Wow, Dorcas, I would never have recognized you.”
I closed the door behind me and smiled at him. “I’m not seven years old anymore, Little Joe,” I said with a slight laugh in my voice, “I think you may have forgotten that.”
“If I had, it won’t happen again, I can promise you that.” He chuckled and led me to the buggy.
I recalled how we used to travel in the wagon along with the washing baskets or the groceries, depending on the reason for the wagons use. Now I sat by his side in the buggy with two slick horses desperate to be off; Joe flicked the reins and they lunged forwards.
“They’re lovely horses, Joe.”
“Aren’t they, though?” Joe smiled, as pleased with the compliment as though I had meant him.
“Do you still have Billy Boy?”
“Who?”
“The little pony Hoss got for me, Billy Boy.”
“Oh shucks, no, he went a long time ago. Pa found a family who gave him a good home.”
I wondered if Billy Boy had been happy about that, and smiled at the thought of the bad tempered little beast. Joe must have seen me smile because he asked me what it was I was thinking about,
“Just Billy Boy. He didn’t like me very much.”
“That’s because he doted on Hoss. He’d follow Hoss about the place like a dog.” He chuckled at the memory, a nice bubbling up from the tummy kind of chuckle. I had always had fond memories of Joe and his laugh.
I had spent a long time getting ready for this evenings party. There were no such things way back when I first arrived, not that I knew of anyway. I was wearing my best dress, very fashionable, lace and silk in shades of cream and very pale pink. Mother had it made for me by a French woman who made all her clothes. How times had changed …
“You smell nice, Dorcas.”
“Thank you.”
“Kind of reminds me of my Ma,” he sighed. “She always smelt like flowers and springtime. That’s how you smell, Dorcas, of flowers and spring.”
I smiled and said nothing, unsure of the comparison. Was it a compliment? I wasn’t sure.
It was very pleasant driving towards the Ponderosa, in the gathering dusk the land about us took on a magical air, and the warmth of the evening wrapped around us so snugly that we were content to just be together and to say very little. It was Joe who broke the silence,
“What brought you back, Dorcas? Was it just out of curiosity?” He looked at me with an unusually serious face.
“A little, I suppose. Mother and my step-father have gone on a tour of Europe, and I thought I would come and see Uncle Burgess, and - and my friends from back then.”
“I’m glad you still consider us as your friends, Dorcas.” He sighed and turned to pay attention to the horses.
“I never thought of you as anything other than that, Joe,” I replied very quietly. “Why would I think of you any differently?”
“Wal, it’s just…” He bit his bottom lip. “I never really saw you properly afterwards, I mean, after Richard - after what happened to Richard.”
“You explained to me what happened, Joe. It wasn’t your fault. No one blamed you.”
“I blamed myself.”
“I wish you hadn’t.” I put my hand on his arm and then wondered whether I should have done so for it trembled slightly beneath my fingers, so I withdrew it and clasped my hands together in my lap. “Let’s not talk about it anymore, Joe. It happened, and it’s over.”
“I just needed to make sure - I couldn’t not mention it, Dorcas.” He looked at me again with those big hazel eyes and looked so sad, “You understand, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.” I nodded emphatically and looked ahead at the horses as they pricked their ears forwards and seemed to quicken their pace, “Did your brother Adam get back to Nevada, Joe, or did he stay back East?”
“Oh, Adam got back, and stayed put.” He grinned. “He designed several of the buildings in town, you know? He’s a clever man.” His face softened into a smile, the pride he felt for his brother more than obvious.
“Doesn’t he miss life back East?”
“Sometimes I guess he does; after all, it has a lot to offer, doesn’t it?” He looked at me again, “Are you still living in San Francisco?”
I nodded and gave him a short history of my life. Well, it would have been short; after all, I had only lived 18 years. I told him how I went to school and then onto college. I briefly touched upon my year in Europe and how I returned home just in time to say goodbye to Mother as they went off on their own tour.
“I’ve missed it here, Joe. I was only here a year and yet it seemed whenever I thought of a place as home, it was here.”
“I’m glad of that, Dorcas,” he said, and there was a smile in his voice as he spoke.
“Is the party for any special occasion, Joe?” I asked now, and he shook his head and smiled,
“Only to welcome you home,” he said.
***********
As always, the sight of the ranch made me hold my breath for a moment. I had to look around and look at the changes during the time it took Joe to get down from the buggy and come to my side to assist me down. He held my hand tightly and looked into my eyes and smiled such a gentle smile that I wanted to hug him tight right there and then.
There were lighted lanterns dancing across the yard and colored streamers floating about to make the place pretty. The door opened as we approached the porch and Mr. Cartwright stood there with a wide smile and his hands on his hips, then when we were a few paces away, he came towards us. He looked quickly at Joe and then turned his dark gaze upon me. I had forgotten how dark his eyes were, and how warm his smile. He took my hands in his; I could feel the rough calloused skin beneath my fingers, and it occurred to me that, although this man was one of the richest in the territory, he had worked hard to gain those riches, and he still worked hard to keep them.
“Dorcas Mannering. My oh my, look at you? Come on in, my dear, come on in and meet some old friends.” He put his arm around my shoulders and ushered me into the big room.
It was quite unchanged. Just how I remembered it to be, even down to the Navajo blanket cast over the balustrade. There was music playing and people dancing but before I could take any notice of faces and people, Hoss approached with the widest beaming smile on his face
“Hey, Dorcas, you came.” He took hold of my hands and squeezed them, quite gently, but in such a familiar way that it instantly reminded me of his father, for Hoss had the same hard working hands as Ben. “You sure look pretty. Don’t she look pretty, Pa?” He glanced at Ben, who nodded with a satisfied smile on his face, as though he had seen to the making of the dress himself.
“She surely is, Hoss.”
Hoss drew me into the room, and the next thing I knew a tall dark haired man was standing in front of me.
“Miss Dorcas, this is my brother Adam. He was the one went to college and you never got to see before when you was here.” Hoss turned his beaming face to his brother as though he were presenting a prize to him.
Adam Cartwright was the young man who had brushed past me in town the day I arrived. I recognized him immediately and for some reason blushed,
“Good evening, Miss Mannering. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. My brothers have done nothing but talk about you since they saw you in town the other day.” He took one hand and bowed slightly over it. A very polished greeting.
“I met you in town too,” I blurted out and then lowered my eyelashes a little. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Adam.”
“Actually, your name has frequently been brought up over the years, Miss Dorcas. So I am more than relieved to see that the picture of you was painted very accurately. The most recent picture, I hasten to add.” He smiled, exposing white teeth against his tanned skin.
“Heyyyy, Adam, back off,” Hoss said and was about to say more when Joe appeared with a glass of punch which he handed to me with a smile,
“Here you are, Dorcas. I thought you’d like something to drink to cut the dust from your throat,” he said and he looked at Hoss and then at Adam. “I hope these two cutthroats haven’t been annoying you?”
“Oh, no,” I laughed. “As if they could …”
The music stopped and the couples on the dance floor drifted to their seats, although some came to wards me with smiles and warm looks of welcome on their faces. I recognized no one. They came and introduced themselves, tried to jog my memory by saying how they had sat behind, beside or in front of me at school. Most said how much they had enjoyed having Mrs. Mannering as their teacher. I was pleased about that, because my mother was or had been a most remarkable teacher.
“I love your dress,” a young woman murmured. “It’s French in style, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I was in Paris last year,” she explained. “You won’t remember me, Dorcas, but I remember you very well. You shared your book with me at recess.”
I looked at her and remembered a thin little girl who had seemed to want to tag along with me everywhere. She was a miner’s daughter and very poor. I remembered one morning mother giving her some food and her father coming next day to return it, saying he and his family didn’t take charity.
“How’s your family now?” I asked as I struggled to remember her name,
“Very well. Pa made a big strike some weeks after you left town. He went in with Gould & Curry and hasn’t looked back since.” She frowned and then sighed, “Well, apart from his lungs of course. He suffers from miner’s lung, but at least we can make sure he lives out his life in comfort.”
“I’m sorry, Jennifer.” I put my hand on her arm to emphasize my sympathies and glad to have remembered her name,
“I never forgot him, you know.” She lowered her voice, “I still go and take flowers to his grave.” Then she squeezed my arm, looked right into my eyes and hurried away back to her escort.
Richard. Of course, she meant Richard. But her words made me shiver. I watched her as she danced away with the young man, and then jumped when Joe came and asked me to dance,
“What was Jennifer talking about?” he asked as he took my hand and led me into the dance.
I looked up into his face and just momentarily could not think of what to say in reply. Jennifer’s words had, in some strange way, numbed my brain and I struggled to find coherency in the fog of confusion,
“She asked about my past, told me about her father,” I replied in a whisper.
“Jennifer’s a strange girl. Don’t pay too much attention to her,” Joe replied quietly, and smiled down at me as though reassuring me and his eyes twinkled in the way I could always remember with such deep affection.
This was, in some ways, the realization of a dream. A child’s dreams perhaps, clung to with a determination that may have been quite unrealistic. Dancing with Joseph Cartwright, my hand in his, his arm around my waist. I closed my eyes and pretended that we were in some wonderful ballroom with an orchestra playing and people watching this wonderfully happy couple as they waltzed around the floor.
“You do look lovely, Dorcas,” he whispered.
I had to bring myself out of the dream to look up at him and comprehend what he was saying just in case I had confused it with the unreality. “Thank you, sir.”
“You were such a skinny little kid, and so shy.” He smiled down at me and his eyes took on a faraway look, “You hardly spoke at all those days you came here. I reckon the only person you ever spoke to was Hoss.”
“You were too busy playing with … with Richard.” I raised my chin and looked at him, and then smiled slowly. “What does it matter? After all, I was a little girl then, and as you say, I was very shy.”
“Now look at you though? You’re beautiful, rich and dancing in my arms. What more could I ask for than having you to dance with me.”
“Were you serious when you said this party was being held for me?”
“Yes. Hoss and I decided it when we met you … it seemed a perfectly excellent reason to have one. You don’t mind, do you?” He laughed then, a soft satisfied chuckle.
“So long as your father didn’t.” My smile widened; I could feel it stretching across my face and I looked into his face knowing that my eyes were sparkling.
“Pa would have a party here for any reason, and he thought this one was particularly fine.”
“I just wish I could remember who everyone was …” I glanced over at Jennifer who was talking to Adam Cartwright at the punch bowl. They were both looking over at me.
“You’ll remember them better as you get to know them more,” Joe replied. “You are staying for a while, aren’t you? You don’t intend to leave Virginia City within days, do you?”
“No, I intend to stay for a while.”
“Well, then, that’s settled, isn’t it?” He drew me in closer so that I could smell his pomade and feel the warmth of his body against mine.
I closed my eyes again and was about to speak when I heard Hoss speaking, and upon opening my eyes, saw Hoss standing right behind Joe, tapping him on the shoulder and telling him that he was ‘cutting in while he could”. Joe hesitated a fraction, and then with a rueful shrug, stepped aside and swept me into Hoss’ arms. I looked at Joe as he stepped back and he smiled, winked and retreated to the punch bowl to stand with Jennifer and Adam.
For a big man, Hoss was surprisingly light on his feet. He held me as though I would break, something fragile and frail, as he danced me around the floor. He smiled down at me and I couldn’t help but notice the look of pride on his face as he held me in his arms.
“Hoss, I never knew you were such a good dancer,” I said with a smile and I saw the familiar blush creep over his collar,
“Adams bin teachin’ me,” he said and then looked down at me. “I guess Joe already told you that you’re the best looking gal here this evening.”
“No, he didn’t.” I replied and sighed. “I suppose you must wonder how come a skinny little girl got to grow up and look like me, is that it?”
“Shucks no, I always knew you’d grow up to be a beautiful woman. You were a pretty little gal, Miss Dorcas.”
“Was I?” I blinked, and recalled to mind the shy child I had been, and then remembered how shy Hoss had been as well. We had been two of a kind in a way, just as Richard and Joe had been as school boy pals.
“You sure was, Miss Dorcas, and I can still recall the day you first rode Billy Boy. Hey, you looked so frightened, and so cute up thar in the saddle that I thought for sure that one day you would be what you’ve turned out to be … a real beauty.”
“Thank you, Hoss,” I whispered and lowered my head because I could remember that day too, when Joe had said I looked cute.
The music stopped and Hoss led me to the punch bowl where Joe hurried to be the first to hand me a glass of the cool liquid. I sipped it gingerly and then nodded. “This is very good.” I laughed as I drank a little more, and turned aside to see what else was on the table.
Adam Cartwright approached me and smiled. For some reason, my new found confidence shivered a little, as though about to take flight, but I rallied and smiled back.
“I hope I get the opportunity for a dance sometime this evening, Miss Mannering.” he said politely.
“I hope so too, Mr. Cartwright,” I replied, hoping to goodness that it wouldn’t happen. Hopefully the evening would come to an end before he could dance with me.
A tall young man approached now and introduced himself as Philip Kopek. ‘The third desk to the right.’ One of Mrs. Mannering’s best students. The music had started and he asked me to dance, so before anyone else could ask, I accepted his offer and placed my hand in his sweating palm and allowed him to sweep me away.
“I could hardly believe it was you,” he said in a rush of words. “When Jennifer told me who you were I nearly choked. I remember Joe saying this party was for an old school friend, but for the life of me, I never thought it would be you. You sure are pretty, Miss Dorcas.”
“Thank you, Philip. I’m surprised you remembered me at all.”
“I guess I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t been the teacher’s kid,” Philip replied, brutally honest as he had always been. “You were pretty shy, back then. Seemed the only kids you went around with were Jennifer and Joe.”
“I can remember you now, Philip. You were always putting your hand up to answer the questions, and you were nearly always right.”
“I worked hard at it. Your mother was a great teacher. Mr. Hansworth’s gain was certainly our loss.”
“I’ll tell her when I see her next,” I promised.
Throughout the dance he told me about his life since I had left. I doubt if anyone could have possibly have been as pleased for the music to end as I when finally he escorted me back to the table.
There were napkins on the table and I hurriedly wiped my hands on one. Joe and Hoss came up to me, both with smiles on their faces,
“How about something to eat, Dorcas.” Joe said, “Perhaps we could eat in the garden.”
“Hey, ain’t that a good idea,” Hoss replied, giving Joe a little shove. “How’s about it, Miss Dorcas.”
“I am rather hungry,” I said quietly, as I noticed Joe give his brother a sly kick on the ankle, “but…”
“Why don’t we have this dance now,” a deep voice said close to my ear, and before I could say another word, Adam Cartwright had taken my hand and led me into the next dance.
I looked up into his face just as he was looking down at me while in the act of putting his arm around my waist. He looked kind but at the same time, rather stern. I glanced quickly over at Joe and Hoss who were both standing with their eyes fixed on us. Jennifer danced by with some young man, but she also stopped speaking to give us a sharp look.
It’s odd, really, dancing with Joe and Hoss, and then with their brother who was probably the oldest man I had ever danced with in my life. He had to be all of fifteen years older than myself. I counted the years difference as we danced, in silence and in perfect time to the music, and arrived at the conclusion that he had to be as old as 30 at least. I looked up at him again and he was still looking down at me, he smiled.
“I was thinking, Miss Mannering, whether you would mind if I called you Dorcas?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind at all, Mr. Cartwright,” I stammered in reply.
“I didn’t want to appear too impolite in doing so without your permission.”
“I - I see.” I frowned slightly, and wondered if he were teasing me. He was an excellent dancer, but I couldn’t relax. I had the distinct feeling that he was humoring me, like an older man taking pity on a child. He made me feel like a child.
“Hoss and Joe have spoken a lot about you, you know. When I was at college, you were mentioned in their letters, and when I returned home, you were often referred to… You can’t imagine the flurry of excitement they were in when they came home the other day to say you were back.”
“Oh.” I looked at him and he smiled down at me again, a good humored smile, “Are you making fun of me, Mr. Cartwright?” I asked looking him in the eyes.
“Certainly not,” he protested with a little laugh that confirmed to my way of thinking that he was, if not making fu