Centennial
CHAPTER ONE
The front door blared open, bringing with it a brisk gust of March wind and two Cartwrights coated with dust. From his chair by the blazing fire, Adam scowled at his younger brothers and sharply ordered them to close the door. “You’re late,” he continued, his voice accusative, “and Hop Sing is fit to be tied. He’s threatening to throw supper out the back door, and a return to China has already been mentioned.”
Hoss Cartwright scrunched his nose in the direction of the stone fireplace. “Well, pardon us all to pieces, big brother. It ain’t like we wanted to be out this late in that cold wind.”
“Yeah,” Hoss’ younger brother groused as he shrugged out of his green corduroy jacket. “Some of us actually had to do more today than just ride into town for the mail.”
Adam favored Little Joe with a superior smirk. “Just the privilege of age and maturity, sonny. Someday we might even consider you grown up enough to fetch the mail.”
Eighteen-year-old Joe scowled. If there was one thing he hated, it was being reminded that he was the youngest, and it seemed to him that his oldest brother rarely missed an opportunity to throw it in his face. “Listen here, Adam,” he began, moving toward the objection of his irritation.
Before Joe could even start his intended tirade, however, sharp words cut him off. “You late,” Hop Sing snapped from the dining room. “Always people late to suppah. Hop Sing work hard all day and this thanks he get!”
Hoss lightly rested a beefy hand on the shoulder of the diminutive factotum of the Ponderosa. “Just put the food on the table, Hop Sing, and you’ll see how thankful I can be. I’m hungry enough to eat a bear!”
“Hop Sing no feed dirty boys,” the Chinese cook snorted with a disdainful look at the cherubic, but grimy face of the middle Cartwright brother. “You wash up, chop-chop, then maybe-so I put food on table.” His quick exit to the kitchen left no room for argument, so both Hoss and Little Joe headed for their respective washbasins upstairs, passing their father on the way down from doing similar duty. Adam chuckled and turned back to reading the latest copy of Manufacturer and Builder, which had arrived in the mail that day.
His nose was still buried in the journal as the other three Cartwrights took their places around the table. Ben cleared his throat loudly and, when that still brought no response from his eldest, sharply uttered the young man’s name. Startled, Adam tore his eyes from the printed page and with a sheepish apology, set the journal aside and moved quickly to the table.
Four heads bowed as Ben Cartwright offered thanks for the bounty spread before them. Then, as Joe made a vain attempt to grab the platter of pork chops before Hoss, Ben smiled at their older brother. “Interesting article, son?”
“Extremely,” Adam replied, as he watched “the children” tussle over the meat. “It’s about—”
“Oh, let me guess,” Joe snickered as he speared a pork chop with his fork and dropped it onto his plate, “the Centennial!”
“Yeah,” Hoss cackled, dragging three chops into his plate. “Couldn’t be nothin’ else, could it, now?”
As he finally snared a piece of meat for himself, Ben smiled indulgently at the young man seated across from him at the foot of the table. Seeing the flush rise from Adam’s chin to his broad brow, he knew the younger boys had guessed correctly—and small wonder. Since the beginning of this year of the Lord, 1876, each new issue of Manufacturer and Builder, or any of the other eastern publications to which Adam maintained a regular subscription, had inspired him to enthusiastic eloquence about the upcoming celebration of America’s one-hundredth year. “Now, boys,” Ben cautioned with a glance to either side, “I’m sure we’re all interested in what your brother Adam has to share.”
“I’m not,” Joe grunted. “It’s got nothin’ to do with us.”
Hoss took warning from the steely glare Ben fixed on his youngest son and quickly said, “Yeah, Adam, tell us all about what them folks back in Philadelphia is plannin’ now.”
Eyes locked on the boy who was pointedly ignoring him, Adam responded to his other brother. “If you’re genuinely interested, Hoss, I’ll loan you the journal. I wouldn’t want to force information on the willfully ignorant.”
As he helped himself to potatoes and gravy, Little Joe tried to disregard the pool of silence forming around him, but he could feel three sets of eyes staring him down. With a sigh he looked up. “Okay, okay, let’s hear all about it”—he lowered his voice to mutter, “like we’ve got a choice.”
“Oh, you’ve got a choice, young man,” Ben announced sternly. “You can leave your dinner on your plate and march yourself upstairs until you learn to be civil.”
Joe slammed his fork to the table. “Well, maybe I’ll just do that! I don’t see why I have to pretend that this is interesting two, three times a month, just ‘cause some stupid magazine came in from back east. From what I hear, they ain’t even gonna pull it off, so it’s all just a bunch of pointless palaver.”
Ben snapped his fingers and aimed one toward the stairway. With a disgusted glare at Adam, Joe started to rise, but Adam waved him back into his seat. “Don’t bother,” he said. Glancing toward his father, he snorted as he inclined his head toward Joe, “Since when has dietary deprivation ever had any effect on that one? I’ll change the subject.”
“You don’t have to,” Ben stated firmly. “I will not countenance that level of rudeness at the table—or anywhere else under my roof! Joseph, either apologize to your brother or go to your room.”
Temper flared in Joe’s green eyes, and he jerked the chair back. Just then he caught sight of the food on his plate. He’d put in a hard afternoon’s work since dinner, and his belly was rumbling. Suddenly, the quarrel with Adam seemed too unimportant to sacrifice a good meal over. “Sorry,” he grunted, though it rankled his pride, and scooted back up to the table again.
It was a pathetic, obviously unfelt, apology, but both Ben and Adam let it slide. Adam, however, could not allow his brother’s last criticism of the centennial celebration to go unchallenged. “I’m aware, little brother,” he said, “that certain journalists have expressed doubt that the Centennial Exposition will take place, but the article I was reading tonight removes the slightest reservation. It will open, and on time.”
“Yes, sir,” Joe said meekly, with a longing glance at his mashed potatoes and gravy. Adam rolled his eyes and changed the subject, as promised. The conversation turned to the work of the ranch, what had been accomplished that day and what needed to be done on the next.
Not until the younger boys had retired for the night did Adam again broach the subject of the Centennial with his father, moving from his blue chair by the fire to the end of the sofa nearest Ben. “It’s really going to be a marvelous celebration, Pa,” he observed after filling Ben in on the latest news. “Countries from all over the world will be sending their greatest works of art and machinery, their finest agricultural products and manufactures—and the buildings themselves! An unprecedented illustration of the latest ideas in architectural design.”
“I’m sure it will be wonderful, Adam,” Ben responded, rubbing the arm of his thickly padded chair, “but while I don’t approve of the rudeness with which Joseph expressed his opinion, I’m afraid I have to agree that it doesn’t have a great deal to do with us out here. Virginia City is planning her own celebration of the centennial year, of course, and although it won’t be as grand as the one in Philadelphia, at least we’ll be able to attend this one.”
“Is attending the one back east such an impossible dream?” Adam ventured softly.
Ben felt a lump rise in his throat, and his fingers tightened on the burgundy leather. Though he hadn’t permitted himself to admit it, he’d known for a month or more that dreams of seeing the Centennial himself lay behind all Adam’s insistence on sharing the latest developments as they became known. His own reluctance to see what should have been self-evident came from the simple fear that if Adam once again tasted the culture of the East, he’d be lost forever to his reawakened appetite. How often Ben had seen that yearning in his son’s dark and soulful eyes, the same light of longing that now transfixed them. “You want to go?” he asked hesitantly.
“You know I do,” Adam said, leaning forward earnestly. “I realize summer is our busiest time, and I know you’re going to be tied up with outside activities yourself, this being an election year. That’s why I’ve been reluctant to mention it and why I’ll understand if you tell me I can’t be spared, but I figured it was time I worked up the nerve to ask, at least.”
Ben’s smile was warm with the love he felt for this firstborn son. Though all the boys did their fair share of work around the ranch, Adam alone shouldered its responsibilities with him. At times, he thought that Adam alone truly understood and shared the dream that had found fruition in the Ponderosa, and it seemed ironic to him that Adam alone seemed to visualize a future beyond its boundaries. Yet this young man had given so much of himself to his father’s dream that Ben couldn’t refuse, had never been able to refuse him when he tentatively brought forth a dream of his own. Even at the risk of losing him, Ben knew he couldn’t deny this request, any more than he had denied the one that had sent Adam east years before. “How long would you be gone?” he asked.
The dark eyes sparkled, and then thick eyelashes dipped to hide them. “Well, the Exhibition lasts from May 10th to November 10th,” Adam replied.
The lump caught in his throat, but Ben forced himself to chuckle. “Be serious.”
Adam looked up, a hint of humor brushing his lips. “No, I realize I can’t stay that long, but I would like to be there for the Fourth of July celebration—it’ll be the biggest in the country—and I’d like to attend Commencement at my old alma mater. I haven’t had a chance to do that since my own graduation.”
“When is that?” Ben asked.
“The twentieth of July,” Adam replied and waited, holding his breath.
Ben’s expression was thoughtful. “You’re talking about being away a month or more, then.”
Adam licked his lips. “I know it’s asking a lot.”
Ben raised his gaze to his son’s face. “No more than you deserve,” he said softly, touched by the yearning his son was trying so hard to conceal. “As you say, you haven’t been back east since college, and I know there are things you’ve missed, things you’ve given up for my sake, for your brothers’ sake. You’ve always given a hundred and ten percent to this ranch, Adam, so you take whatever time you need.”
Adam flashed a rare smile. “If you’re sure you can spare me . . .”
Ben cleared his throat and adopted a light tone to cover his emotion. “We managed five years without you; I guess we can muddle by for four or five weeks!”
“Thanks, Pa.” Adam slid onto the table, laying a hand on his father’s knee. “Why don’t you come with me? It’s been longer since you’ve been back east than it’s been for me.”
Ben gave his son’s firm biceps a light rub. “You know I can’t. As you pointed out, it’s our busiest season, and I’ve got that political convention to attend.”
“Not ‘til August,” Adam reminded him. “We’d be back by then.”
Ben shook his head. “I’ll be involved in meetings leading up to the convention, as well, some of them taking place during the exact time you plan to be gone. No, as much as I’d love to make the trip with you, Adam, I simply can’t.”
Adam nodded. It was the answer he’d expected, so he was ready with another proposition. “The boys, then? If I pay their way?”
Ben cast a suspicious glance at his son, knowing from the speed with which this second request followed the first that it had been waiting in the wings. “You know I can’t spare all three of you,” he chided. “I guess I could get by with just one son to help me through our busiest season,” he added with a touch of tartness, “so if it’s worth footing the bill for you to have one of your brothers with you, take your pick.” The smile that followed this statement clearly conveyed Ben’s amused certainty regarding which of his brothers Adam would choose as a traveling companion.
The smile jolted Adam out of his complacency. His first instinct was, as his father had accurately discerned, to take Hoss on the trip, but Adam resented the idea of being that predictable. In fact, he prided himself on being able to read the minds of others, while keeping his own thoughts and feelings close to his vest. Unwilling to admit that he might be as open a book to his father as, say, Little Joe was to him, he pursed his lips and murmured, “I’ll have to give that some thought and let you know.”
The statement didn’t budge the smile on his father’s lips. In fact, they were definitely twitching as Ben said, “Fine, fine. Take all the time you need, but I will require one thing more of you, Adam.” Waiting until he had his son’s attention, he continued, “You will be the one to explain to the brother you leave behind why you made that choice. You won’t saddle me with that chore!”
Adam quickly agreed. Though Little Joe had acted uninterested in the Centennial, he would be both disappointed and angry on learning that Adam and Hoss were taking an extended trip, while he had to stay behind, stuck with their chores for a month or more. Pa had every right to expect him to blunt the force of that anger by taking it on himself.
Father and son said good night and retired for the evening. Adam lay on his bed in the dark room, trying to think of the best way to explain to Little Joe why he was choosing Hoss, but the more he tried to come up with reasons that would appease the boy, the more unfair he felt. Another thing Adam Cartwright prided himself on was fairness, and it simply wasn’t fair to reject Joe out of hand. Besides, if the decision were really the right one, it would stand up to careful analysis. So, think it through logically, he told himself. Weigh the pros and cons of choosing each brother; then decide. Now, why should I take Hoss?
It was so easy to tally up the positive points for choosing Hoss. Hoss was his best friend and would make the most enjoyable companion. They always got on well together, seemingly understanding one another without words. With Hoss, there would be no conflicts, no problems to deal with, just a pleasurable journey for both, and Hoss’s interest in inventions would guarantee his fascination with Machinery Hall, which would exhibit the latest mechanisms from around the world.
Were there any negative points to taking Hoss? To be totally fair, Adam had to admit that there were. Hoss was uncomfortable in big cities, even the less rigid ones of the West. Philadelphia, with its stricter societal mores might be absolute torture for a man most comfortable under open skies. Then, too, Hoss thoroughly hated being away from home for long stretches of time, almost as if he drew his life’s breath from the fragrance of the pines. Would a month be more than he would enjoy, even of exciting new inventions? And what of the other aspects of the Exposition? Machinery Hall and Agricultural Hall would naturally appeal to him, but the other areas might not, at least not to the same extent. Reluctantly, Adam was forced to admit that Hoss had neither the interest nor the scholarly intellect to take in everything that the Centennial had to offer.
Little Joe, on the other hand, was smart as a whip. Not much got past those ever-active green orbs. While Joe had always been a reluctant student, there was no doubt whatsoever in Adam’s mind that his youngest brother could more readily profit from the educational experience of the Centennial than Hoss. It might even be an opportunity to interest the boy in a college education. Adam had, on numerous occasions, tried unsuccessfully to convince Joe to continue his education, but perhaps a trip east would awaken the boy’s interest, particularly if he visited some colleges and got a feel for what the experience was really like, how it could broaden his life.
Joe’s youthful exuberance was another point in his favor. He was more likely to relish a new experience around every corner than Hoss, but taking the kid had definite drawbacks, as well. There were certain parts of the Exposition that he wouldn’t enjoy any more than Hoss, and if Joe were to receive the full educational benefit, Adam would have to force him to take it all in and that could lead to conflicts.
Hoss, of course, would willingly go along with anything his big brother suggested, just to be congenial, and try his best not to let Adam see how bored he really was. With him, there would be no problems, but taking Joe almost guaranteed facing conflict somewhere along the way. The two of them mixed about as well as—Adam rejected the easy metaphor of oil and water for a more accurate one—coal oil and a lighted match. Conflict was inevitable if they were thrown together for several weeks without either Pa or Hoss on hand to douse the match before it struck the oil. Joe’s youthful exuberance, too, was as much a weakness as a strength. The interest in new experiences could lead just as easily to an education of the wrong sort. Do I really want to saddle myself with watching out for him in a city with a wider range of temptations than Virginia City?
That was the dilemma. Should he selfishly cater to his own pleasure or do the “big brotherly” thing and put the other man—well, boy, in Joe’s case—first? The decision he had thought would be so easy kept Adam awake late into the night and consumed his thoughts throughout the next day. He pondered the problem, giving each of his younger brothers careful examination as they worked side by side. Hoss and Little Joe became increasingly uncomfortable with the feeling of eyes boring into their backs and wondered why Adam seemed so distant.
Adam spent several hours alone in his room that night, mulling his decision until he was finally certain he’d made the right one. Hearing his brothers bid each other good night in the hall, Adam made his way downstairs to tell his father which brother would be accompanying him to Philadelphia. He smiled, taking almost perverse satisfaction in the thought that Pa was about to learn that he didn’t know his eldest quite as well as he thought he did. Nor, for that matter, had Adam known himself as well as he’d thought, for the choice he’d made had come as a total surprise. His father’s shocked face when he mentioned Joe’s name made Adam wonder for a moment if he would be allowed, after all, to take his youngest brother with him.
Ben had obviously been caught completely off guard. Raking a hand through his silver hair, he fell back into the leather chair and stared at the man seated on the fireside table before him.
“Surprised?” Adam asked with a sportive smile.
“‘Flabbergasted’ might be a better word,” Ben admitted. “I never gave a moment’s thought to your taking Joseph. I just assumed you meant Hoss.”
Adam pinched his nose bridge. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I thought I’d better discuss this with you before I said anything to Joe.”
Ben smiled wryly. “Thank you for that, at least.”
Adam stood, took a step toward the fire and turned to face his father. “Look, I’ll confess I had Hoss in mind when we spoke before, but, just to be fair, I tried to look at both of them, and I think Joe will benefit more from the trip.” He went on to describe the process of reasoning that had led to his decision. “So how about it? Can I take the kid?” he asked when he’d finished.
Ben motioned for Adam to take a seat and when the young man was once again perched on the table, he leaned forward, laying a hand on his son’s muscular thigh. “You say you’ve considered potential problems. Have you also considered that Joseph may not respond at all the way you hope he will to these ‘educational opportunities,’ that he may, in fact, resent your bringing up this issue of college yet again? He has been adamant that he has no such interest.”
Adam nodded slowly. “I know, but he has no factual basis for forming that decision, just his own stubborn belief that it’s not for him.”
Ben shook his head. “Nevertheless . . . ”
“Look, Pa, it will still be his choice,” Adam insisted. “I’ll make that clear. I just want him to make an informed decision.”
Ben frowned, concerned that he already saw the basis for a continuing clash between his two sons. “Have you also taken into consideration just how difficult your young brother can be to handle?”
The expression on Adam’s face was almost smug. “I’ve had to handle him many times before.”
The furrows in Ben’s brow deepened. “Yes, but not for such an extended time,” he reminded his eldest. “You’ll be completely on your own.”
“I can handle that boy, Pa,” Adam assured him.
He hadn’t said, “Better than you,” but Ben could read it in his son’s almost cocky expression, and he arched a critical eyebrow. Fool boy, always has thought he could do a better job of parenting than me. Serve him right if I did make him put that theory to the test. Might end up having a bit more respect for his poor, befuddled father.
“Besides,” Adam chirped on, blithely unaware of the affront he’d given, “maybe some time alone together will help us toward a better relationship.”
Or an open break, Ben thought, but feeling trapped by his earlier agreement that Adam could take whichever brother he chose, he reluctantly gave his permission for his youngest son to accompany his eldest to the Centennial Exposition at Philadelphia. “Provided,” he added firmly, “that Joseph wishes to go under the conditions you set down and agrees to put himself under your authority. I’ll make it clear that I am delegating my authority to you, but whether he’ll respect that when I’m a continent away is something I cannot guarantee.”
“Don’t worry, Pa,” Adam chuckled. “We’ll do just fine.”
As he watched his son climb the stairs to bed, Ben shook his head in consternation, scolding himself for his lack of foresight. Should have seen this coming. So like Adam to make that decision based on what would be best for his brothers. Been looking out for their welfare before his own his whole life. Should have known he wouldn’t just pick for his own pleasure. Well, maybe fathers weren’t meant to be clairvoyant; maybe that was strictly the purview of the Almighty. He stood and stretched, then headed for bed, still wondering what the outcome of this adventure would be. Adam and Joe, together for four weeks or so—would it be the unifying experience Adam envisioned or the disaster his father dreaded?
CHAPTER TWO
The Cartwright brothers worked apart the next day and arrived home that evening at separate times. Hoss and Little Joe, though, got there within fifteen minutes of each other and had already started evening chores when Adam rode in. “Look who’s tryin’ to get out of his share of the work by comin’ in late,” Joe scoffed as his oldest brother led Sport into a stall and began to unsaddle the white-stockinged chestnut.
Adam tossed the saddle over its curved wooden stand and pulled the blanket from the horse’s back. “For your information, little brother, I have done more than my share of the work today, so mind your tongue.”
“Aw, Adam it just seems like more work ‘cause it’s harder to do at your age.” Joe ended the quip with a high-pitched giggle. “Better hustle through your chores, though, old timer, or you’ll be missing your supper. Hop Sing don’t cotton to folks bein’ late to the table.”
“Well, since you’re feeling so spry, sonny, maybe you’d like to take over my chores for me,” Adam jibed back.
Joe folded his arms across his chest and regarded his older brother with a saucy smirk. “Nope, doesn’t appeal to me at all. How about you, Hoss?”
Hoss leaned on the pitchfork he’d been using to rake out one of the stalls. “Nope, don’t appeal to me none, neither.”
“Since when does work appeal to either of you lazy louts?” Adam commented dryly, picking up a curry brush.
“I just follow the example set before me, older brother,” Little Joe observed with a grin.
“Oh, if only you did!” Adam laughed as he began to brush the glossiness back into Sport’s coat. “Listen, Joe, I need to talk to you privately after supper.” He intended to talk to both of his brothers that evening and had decided to start with the younger one. Though he felt certain Joe would agree to accompany him to Philadelphia, he’d been fooled on other occasions when he’d tried to figure out which way the quixotic little scamp might jump. If Joe were foolish enough to turn down a marvelous opportunity like the one his big brother was about to offer him, Adam would be having an entirely different kind of conversation with Hoss than he at present envisioned, so talking to Joe first was a wise precaution.
As if to prove how quickly his moods could swing, Little Joe bristled abruptly. “Listen, older brother, if you’ve got any complaints, you just spit ‘em out now. I’ve done every bit of work Pa set out for me today, and as far as I know, I haven’t done anything to rile a single soul. ‘Course, some rile easier than others.”
“And you easiest of all,” Hoss grunted. “You just pull in them horns, little brother; Adam didn’t say nothin’ ‘cept he wanted to talk to you.”
“Privately,” Joe snorted. “Sounds like a dressing-down to me, and I don’t got one comin’.”
Despite his irritation, Adam managed to hold his temper, but he couldn’t resist correcting the younger boy’s grammar. “You don’t have one coming, and as far as I know, that’s true. Why do you always assume the worst, boy?”
“Experience, brother, experience,” Joe grumbled, still clinging to his offended stance.
Adam came close to laughing in his face. “Yeah, well, don’t bank on it this time, kid. I have an idea I want to discuss with you, that’s all.”
Curiosity sparked in Joe’s eyes. “Yeah, what?”
“After supper, Joe—my room—be there,” Adam said and turned his attention back to grooming his horse.
Seeing that he wasn’t going to be able to pry anything more out of his stubborn oldest brother, Joe rolled his eyes at Hoss, who just shrugged and went back to his chores, figuring that if Adam needed to talk to Joe private-like, it was none of his business.
Adam went to his room directly after supper, while Joe dawdled around downstairs, mostly to demonstrate that he wasn’t at anybody’s beck and call. Curiosity, however, prevented his keeping up that pretense for long and within half an hour he was tapping on his older brother’s door. When Adam called, “Come in,” Joe did, closing the door and leaning against the jamb.
“Come on in; I won’t bite,” Adam teased. When Joe stepped forward, Adam nodded toward the bed.
Joe took a seat. “Okay, I’m here. What’s this all about?”
Adam pulled the chair out from his desk and straddled it backwards, facing his younger brother. “I talked Pa into letting me go to Philadelphia this summer for the Centennial.”
Joe cocked his head. “Yeah? Well, that’s real fine, Adam. Much as you’ve talked about it, I guess it means a lot to you. Look, if this is about me takin’ over your chores while you’re gone, I don’t figure Pa’ll give me much choice about that, anyway.”
Adam laughed. “You just don’t ever credit me with an unselfish thought, do you?”
“Well, sure—sure I do,” Joe protested.
“Uh-huh, sure.” Adam folded his arms on the back of the chair. “Well, believe it or not, I’ve had one. Of course, an objective scrutiny might only confirm that I’ve taken leave of my senses, but—”
“Are you gonna get to the point or not?” Joe demanded.
“I’m trying to,” Adam said tersely, “if you could avoid interrupting me. I’m trying to tell you that I asked Pa if I could take you with me and he said yes.”
Joe’s mouth dropped and his eyes grew large. “You want me to go,” he babbled, “and—and Pa said I could?”
Adam sat back, savoring the astonishment on his little brother’s face. “That’s right.”
“Hoss, too?”
Adam shook his head. “No, Pa said he couldn’t spare you both, so I picked you.”
Joe’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. For Adam to choose him over Hoss—for anything, much less something as marvelous as this trip sounded—was so far out of the ordinary that it definitely required further investigation. “What’s in this for you, Adam?”
Adam lifted his eyes to the ceiling; then he looked directly at his brother. “You can’t believe my motives are altruistic?”
After straining a moment to recall the meaning of a word he’d learned in school, but rarely used, Joe shook his head. “Nope, not in character for you at all, big brother.”
Adam licked his lips. “All right, I have to admit there is a price tag.”
“Aha!” Joe ejaculated in triumph. “And just how high is it?”
Adam shrugged. “Depends on your attitude. In my opinion you’re getting a bargain. I will pay all the expenses of the trip: rail fare, lodging, food, whatever you need. In return, I want you to visit a few college campuses.”
The match of Adam’s ambitions having been touched to the coal oil of Joe’s resistance, the younger boy’s temper flared. “I might have known you’d have something like that in mind! I made my decision about college already, big brother.”
“Yes, but that was an uninformed decision,” Adam argued. “You have no idea what college is really like.”
“I know what school is like, Adam!”
“Not at that level,” Adam stated calmly. “It’s a different world, Joe, and you owe it to yourself to see it before you turn it down.” He opened his hands, palms up in a gesture of conciliation. “Look, it will still be your decision. All I’m asking is that you give the issue a fair consideration.” He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. “Frankly, boy, I think looking at a few college campuses is a small price for what you’ll get in return, several weeks’ vacation from your chores and a chance to visit places you’ve never seen. Just being there will broaden your education, without your even trying, and I don’t intend it to be all work. You’ll have a good time, Joe.”
“How many colleges?” Joe demanded, obviously trying to calculate the exact cost before committing himself either way.
Adam threw up his hands in exasperation. “I don’t know; I haven’t had much time to think it through. We’ll be attending Commencement at Yale, so that’s one, although it’s more for me than for you.”
Joe’s mood abruptly brightened. “Well, that’s okay,” he said. “I’d like to see where you went to school, Adam.”
“Then there’s the University of Pennsylvania,” Adam went on. “Since we’ll be staying in the town where that’s located, it makes sense to visit it. Those two might be enough, or we might work in one or two more if you’re interested.”
“I won’t be,” Joe stated bluntly.
“Don’t be so quick to decide,” Adam admonished, raising a hand to silence Joe’s attempt to interrupt yet again. “It’s your decision, but I do ask that you try to keep an open mind.”
Joe shook his head, incredulous that a man as smart as Adam could find it so hard to understand a simple “not interested.”
“Just try,” Adam urged.
“Okay, I’ll try,” Joe conceded grudgingly.
Adam rolled his eyes. You’d think I was suggesting he try out a medieval rack, instead of offering him the opportunity to broaden his understanding of the world! “I think you’ve made a wise decision,” he said, keeping his darker opinion to himself, “and one that will bring you a large measure of enjoyment, as well. If you’re willing to listen to another word of wisdom, youngster, I suggest you save your pennies between now and late June. For one thing, you’ll need some dress clothes suitable for the East and appropriate footwear. I can assure you, little brother, that you do not want to walk the streets of Philadelphia or the twenty-five or so miles of walkways on the Centennial grounds themselves in a pair of boots made for riding horseback.”
Joe’s nose crinkled as he tried to calculate just how much this “free” trip might set him back.
Adam laughed. “Of course, you can probably wheedle Pa into paying for that, the way you have him wrapped around your little finger.”
There was a hint of jealousy in his tone, and Joe’s alert ear caught it. “I don’t get everything I want from Pa,” he muttered, sounding peeved.
Adam arched an eyebrow. “More than the rest of us, boy, and you know it! You’ll want to save up for souvenirs, too. I think it would be especially appropriate to bring home some nice remembrances for Hoss, since you’re getting to go and he isn’t.”
Joe smiled softly. “Yeah, I’d want to do that.” His expression brightened. “And Hoss’s birthday will be coming up right after we get back, too; I could get him something nice—and—and Christmas presents, real special ones, huh?”
Adam nodded. “Yes, you definitely could find some unique gifts from practically anywhere in the world, so I’d watch how much I wasted on beer and poker if I were you. I also think you should bone up on your early American history. You’ll be seeing some of the places where history took place, and it will be more meaningful if you have a fresh recollection of the key events of the Revolution.”
Not wanting to admit that his brother’s suggestion was a reasonable one, one that would probably enhance his enjoyment of the trip, Joe forced a soft moan. “Older brother, you can find ways to make even a vacation seem like extra chores.”
Chuckling at the exaggerated scowl with which Little Joe had met his final word of advice, Adam stood up. “Do it, anyway. I’m gonna break the bad news to Hoss if you’re sure you’re willing to accept the conditions of going with me.”
Joe frowned. “You already got me looking at colleges and reading up on the Revolution. You mean there’s more?”
“Just one more, and it comes from Pa,” Adam replied, folding his arms and eyeing his young brother with a patronizing air. “You can only go if you agree to put yourself under my authority and give me the same respect and obedience you’d give him. Is that agreed?”
Joe’s first reaction was an angry outburst. “Oh, this just gets better and better!” It took only two seconds, however, for him to realize the inevitability of minding Adam while he was away. Protective Pa would ask that of him, no matter where he went, even if it were only to Virginia City, so he quickly agreed and scurried out to tell Hoss that Adam wanted to see him next.
Joe had left the door to Adam’s room ajar, so Hoss merely opened it enough to poke his head through and ask, “What’s up? Joe’s lookin’ like the cat that ate the canary.”
Adam waved his brother in and gave him an amused smile. Hoss’s expressions might be colloquial, but they also tended to hit dead center. “I don’t doubt it for a minute. Sit down, Hoss.”
Hoss settled on the foot of Adam’s bed, and Adam sat down near the head, facing him, with one leg tucked under the other, which rested on the floor. “You know how interested I’ve been in the Centennial,” he began.
Hoss grinned broadly. “Been kinda hard to miss, big brother.”
Adam uttered a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. Well, I finally talked to Pa, and he agreed to let me go—and to take one of my brothers with me. I just told the canary-eating cat that he was my choice.”
Though Adam wouldn’t have thought it possible, Hoss’s grin grew even wider. “Hey, that’s great! I’m mighty proud for the both of you,” the big man said enthusiastically.
The genuine warmth of the response caused Adam to stutter. “Hoss, I—I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I couldn’t take you both.”
Hoss leaned forward, grasping Adam’s shoulder in a solid, supportive grip. “Aw, no, no, Adam, don’t feel bad,” he said. “You done right, pickin’ Joe, ‘stead of me. The youngun’ll get more out of it than I ever could—and enjoy it more, too. You know I ain’t much for big cities and fancy doin’s.”
Adam blinked back the drops forming at the corners of his eyes. While Hoss was listing reasons he himself had used in making his decision, Adam knew that Hoss was saying most of this for his benefit, and he loved his brawny brother all the more for his unselfish generosity. “Buddy, you know if I were deciding strictly on whose company I’d actually enjoy, you’d win, hands down,” he said with all the warmth he felt toward this man who was his closest friend, as well as his brother.
“Don’t sell the youngun short, Adam,” Hoss advised. “He can be right good company, if’n you let him.”
Outside the door, crimson-faced and ears flaming, stood the “youngun” in question. Deeply wounded by words Adam had intended only for Hoss’s ears, Little Joe crept down the hall to his own room, closed the door and flopped disconsolately down on the bed. So Adam didn’t really want him. Well, he’d known that, deep down. In fact, though he could only now admit it to himself, that suspicion was exactly what had motivated him to eavesdrop on what he knew to be a private conversation.
Ought to march right in there and tell him what he can do with his fancy trip east, he groused inwardly. It would be the right thing to do, to let Hoss go in his place and let Adam have the brother whose company he really wanted, but Joe couldn’t bring himself to make the sacrifice. He’d never been back east or much of anyplace outside home territory. A few trips to California with Pa or one of his brothers, a few a short ways east, but never past the boundary of his own state. He’d heard about those places in stories told by Pa and Adam, but he’d never seen them for himself, and he wanted to—badly.
Joe tried to make himself think of Hoss, who had never seen those things, either, but anger was fogging his mind with too dark a cloud for the light of generosity to penetrate. Adam may not have wanted him, but with a rigid set of his jaw, Joe determined to make doggone certain his older brother lived up to his bargain and to drive as hard a one as he could while he was at it! Adam would pay for giving such a wonderful gift with such a miserly spirit—oh, yes, he would pay!
CHAPTER THREE
Over the next several weeks Adam began to plan his trip to Philadelphia, with input from the other traveler neither requested nor desired. Careful perusal of back issues of his journals quickly apprised Adam of an oversight, and it was with hesitance that he requested an extension of his time away from the Ponderosa to attend the National Convention of Mining Engineers, which would convene in Philadelphia on June 20th. Ben had scowled at being left shorthanded an additional ten days, but as mining was an adjunct to their timber business, as well as a personal interest of his eldest son, he felt he had to agree. The convention was being held so close to the time that the boys would be in Philadelphia anyway that it seemed illogical to refuse.
Though no one had consulted him about the change of plans, Little Joe was delighted at the thought of ten extra days of vacation. To him, it meant more time to see more sights and the chance to have more fun, and while Hoss grumbled about taking on his brothers’ chores even longer than he’d bargained for, it was good-natured grumbling. Knowing how much Adam wanted to see the Ponderosa involved in the mining business, Hoss viewed the convention as a natural outlet for that interest, and it didn’t bother him one bit to see his little brother get some extra fun packed into his trip, either.
No longer did Adam have to force discussion of the Centennial on his family. Little Joe’s attitude evidenced the most marked change, of course, now that the national celebration actually did have something to do with him. Both Ben and Hoss found themselves caught up in the nightly discussions, as well, for each was interested in what the other two would be seeing and doing during their time away. Adam dragged out every issue of every journal he had that contained even a smidgen of information about Philadelphia or the festival to be held there. After rereading them himself he passed the magazines on to his youngest brother and found him much more responsive than usual to the offer of reading material. “Start with this one,” Adam suggested as he handed Joe the July 1875, issue of Manufacturer and Builder. “It should give you a good overall view of the buildings themselves.”
“Okay,” Joe agreed readily and started to scan the short article. “This says the Main Building covers twenty acres!” he exclaimed a few paragraphs into the text.
“And every acre covered with fascinating exhibits from around the world, little buddy,” Adam reminded him. Joe’s face fairly beamed with enthusiasm, which quickly faded at Adam’s next comment. “In order to get the full benefit from the experience, I’m working out a plan to cover the entire exhibition in a thorough manner, charting each day’s activities in a logical sequence.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Joe muttered with a sarcastic edge to his voice.
Adam’s head shot up, and only the awareness of his father’s watchful eye kept him from giving the impudent kid the tongue-lashing Adam felt he had coming. With strained patience he waited for Joe to make eye contact before saying, “You’ll have plenty of fun, Joe”—his voice grew firmer—“but I don’t want to hear any complaints about seeing things you’re not interested in. It’s my trip, too.”
Joe’s innate sense of fairness brought a blush to his cheeks. It was Adam’s trip in every way that mattered: his idea, his money funding the trip, his invitation the only reason Joe was included at all. Embarrassed by the ingratitude he had been showing, Joe murmured an apology. “It’s only right for you to do the planning, Adam, since you’re the one footing all the bills.”
“I’m glad you realize that,” Adam responded, going back to his own reading. He completely missed the look of exasperation his father gave him, as well as the discouraged sigh with which Little Joe returned to the journal article.
By the time the brothers had absorbed everything in the journals, a book Adam had ordered as soon as he’d received permission to make the trip arrived in the mail. Every night thereafter found the two brothers sitting side by side, perusing with avid attention a guidebook to Philadelphia. Though Adam had visited the Quaker city during his sojourn in the East, much had been forgotten and much had changed, so he had felt a recent book noting the city’s attractions to be a prudent investment. From time to time he would point out places he considered worth seeing, but when Little Joe suggested that Colonel Wood’s Museum and the zoological park sounded interesting, Adam merely hooted his contempt for his young brother’s childish choices. Within moments Joe moved away from Adam and challenged Hoss to a game of checkers. Adam felt the snub, but chalked it up to another display of childish petulance.
By the time Joe had defeated Hoss at three straight games, his good temper was restored, and the two younger Cartwright brothers headed off to bed, teasing each other about who would win the next night’s contest. Yawning, Adam laid aside the guidebook. “Guess I’d better turn in, as well. We have a lot of work lined out for tomorrow.”
“I’d prefer you stay,” Ben said, taking a final draw on his pipe before laying it aside. “I want to talk to you, Adam.”
Something in his father’s tone gave Adam an uneasy feeling. “Something wrong?” he asked.
Ben folded his arms across his chest as he settled back in the leather chair. “Not yet, but there will be if you continue on this course you’ve set.”
Adam exhaled slowly. “If we’re going to play guessing games, we’ll be up far later than is conducive to an early start tomorrow.”
Disturbed by his son’s apparent inability to see what was painfully clear to his own eyes, Ben shook his head. “Do you honestly not realize what you’re doing to your brother?”
Adam pursed his lips. “I presume you’re talking about Joe?”
“Then you do know what I mean,” Ben said, watching Adam’s face carefully.
Adam lifted his palms toward the ceiling. “Not really. I just know that if there’s a problem, it’s bound to be with Joe. Hoss and I don’t have problems.”
“That’s obviously due to Hoss’s skill with people, not yours,” Ben grunted.
Adam sat up stiffly. “What does that mean?”
“It means, young man, that you are shutting your young brother out of the planning of this trip,” Ben stated bluntly. “Adam, you told me that you hoped this time with your brother might draw the two of you together. Well, son, if you keep charting the same course, I can guarantee that ship will crash upon the breakers, and you will find yourself cast into some very choppy water.”
“You’re talking in riddles again,” Adam accused.
Ben groaned. For an intelligent man, sometimes his oldest son could be amazingly obtuse. “Why do you automatically assume that all of your ideas are correct and all of Joseph’s are wrong?” he demanded.
A stubborn glint flashed in Adam’s dark eyes. “Because I have a better understanding of the options we have to choose between. We can’t do everything, Pa; we don’t have the time. That makes it incumbent on me to make the best possible use of what we do have. I’m going to show the kid a good time, but I want it to be a profitable one, as well.”
“What’s so unprofitable about a museum—or a zoo?” Ben pressed.
“The museum he mentioned is decidedly inferior to others in the area, more of a popular pleasure place than an educational experience,” Adam argued. “I suppose there might be some profit in a visit to the zoological gardens, if I can find the time to work it in.”
“Make time,” Ben said.
The statement was less than a command, but more than a suggestion, and Adam’s face clearly showed that he understood his father meant what he said. “All right, Pa,” he murmured. “I’ll take the kid to see the monkeys. May I go to bed now?” The question, tinged with sarcasm, demonstrated, as he fully intended it to, Adam’s disgust with being treated like a small child.
Feeling that there was little point in further conversation, Ben waved his son off to bed. I’d need a chisel to break through that granite head of his, he told himself, which means I’ll have to come down harder on Joseph, instead. He sighed, glad that he had a few weeks to prepare that final lecture to his youngest son on obedience and submission to his brother’s authority. Considering Adam’s arrogant attitude, it would have to be a firm one, and Ben was likely to need every minute of the intervening time to find just the right words.
* * * * *
March drifted into April, and Ben and Hoss became accustomed to the atypical sight of Little Joe curled up on the sofa each evening, nose buried in a history book. Having decided that Adam wasn’t listening to anything he had to say, anyway, Joe ignored the plans for the trip and turned his attention to other things. Doing the reading assignment Adam had suggested was high on his list. Joe viewed it as a condition of the trip and intended to give Adam no reason for withdrawing his magnanimous offer. Besides, although Joe did not for one minute consider admitting it, he was enjoying the stories of the early days of his country, now that he didn’t have to concentrate on memorizing dates and other useless information for some test in school. After all, the events of 1776 were on everyone’s tongue in this centennial year, and Joe had found, to his surprise, that girls were impressed by the gems of knowledge he dropped into conversation from time to time.
Adam noted with satisfaction the diligence with which Joe refreshed his grasp of history. In his view, however, far too little of his young brother’s time was spent in such worthwhile pursuits and far too much in playing checkers with Hoss or squiring some cute skirt to a local dance or dawdling over a beer or a poker table in the Bucket of Blood. In fact, as April turned into May, Adam began to be concerned that Little Joe was not making the proper personal preparations for the journey. “Have you even seen a tailor to be fitted for a proper suit?” Adam asked irritably one evening while Hoss was out making a final check on the stock before going to bed.
Stretched out on the sofa, Joe took another bite of a juicy apple and mumbled, “Nope.”
“Well, don’t you think it’s time you did?” Adam persisted.
“Nope.” Joe grinned back amiably.
“I do not intend to walk the streets of Philadelphia next to someone wearing grubby range trousers,” Adam cautioned, “so I would advise you to start putting your wardrobe together, boy.”
Joe bounced up, eyes snapping. “Mind your own business, Adam! I’ll do my shopping when and where I see fit.”
Ben cleared his throat and both boys turned toward him. “You probably shouldn’t put it off much longer, Joseph. By the time spring roundup is finished, you’ll only have about a month, and if you delay too long, you may get tied up with other things.”
Turning his back on Adam, Joe directed his response solely to his father. “Pa, I was thinking that I might just wait ‘til I got to Philadelphia to get the fancy clothes Adam seems to think I need. I mean, the guidebook says some of the biggest and best department stores in the country are in Philadelphia, and Adam’s gonna be tied up in that mining meeting the first two days we’re there, so I’d have plenty of time to do my shopping then.”
Ben nodded, considering the idea, but Adam immediately interrupted. “No, that won’t do,” he said sharply. “If you think I’m turning you loose on the streets of Philadelphia alone, little boy—”
Joe swiveled to glare at his brother. “Don’t call me that! I’m not some little kid who can’t find his way around, Adam.”
Adam looked down his nose at his irate younger brother. “Joe, it’s a huge city; you have no idea how easily you could become disoriented.”
“Look, Adam, you can’t expect me to just sit in a hotel room for two days!” Joe snapped.
“I expect you to do as you’re told!” Adam shouted back. “Frankly, boy, I wish I could have a couple of days to rest up from that long train trip, instead of having to take in those meetings the day after we arrive.”
“Breakers ahead,” Ben growled. Little Joe merely gave his father a blank look, but Adam, who recognized the metaphor from the earlier discussion, slumped with frustration. Why couldn’t Little Joe—or Pa, for that matter—see that he had the boy’s welfare at heart?
“Isn’t the purpose of that guidebook, Adam, to acquaint those unfamiliar with the city with how to get around?” Ben suggested.
“Well, yes, of course,” Adam acquiesced grudgingly, “but do you really want to see your baby son running the streets of a major metropolis all by himself?”
Joe’s hands tightened into fists. “Oh, now we’ve gone from ‘little boy’ all the way down to ‘baby,’ have we? Keep it up, Adam, and that smart mouth of yours will get a taste of this baby’s knuckles!” He shook his left fist toward his older brother.
“Put that down,” Ben ordered tersely, and Joe let the fist drop, his fingers slowly uncurling under Pa’s reproachful gaze.
Adam smiled. “You see? Can you really trust anyone that childish on his own in the second largest city in the United States?” He lifted a supercilious eyebrow in Joe’s direction.
Noting Joe’s crestfallen face, Ben smiled gently at him. “I don’t have a problem with it so long as he stays within a proscribed area,” he said and was rewarded by the tender glow of emerald eyes. “You’re staying downtown, near the business district, aren’t you?” he continued to query Adam.
Adam nodded in reluctant agreement. “At the Washington Hotel, yes. It’s a central location, part of the reason I chose it.”
“So Joseph could do his shopping without going more than a few blocks from the hotel, couldn’t he?” Ben prodded.
Adam exhaled with exasperation. “Yes, of course, but you’re overlooking another pertinent fact.”
“And that is?”
Adam tried to keep his tone reasonable. “The very fact that I will be tied up in meetings for two days means that I won’t be available to supervise his purchases.”
“I don’t need you to supervise my purchases!” Joe retorted. “I know how to pick out a pair of pants, older brother.”
“I just want to make sure you get the proper garments and that no one takes advantage of you, kid,” Adam tried to explain patiently.
“I can take care of myself!” Joe shouted.
“Lower your voice,” Ben admonished.
“But, Pa . . .”
Ben silenced the protest with an upraised hand. Hearing his oldest son chuckle at the curbing of his youngest, however, he turned severe eyes toward the man in the blue chair. “I believe Joseph is perfectly capable of selecting his own clothes, Adam, so I will expect you to acquaint him with the business area, give him some reasonable boundaries within which he’s required to stay—by my order, Joseph—and leave it at that. Is that clear?”
The smug grin faded from Adam’s face and reappeared on Joe’s. “Yes, sir, that’s clear,” the older boy stated tersely, his tone indicating that while his opinion had been overruled, it had not changed.
* * * * *
Around the middle of May, Little Joe turned nineteen, and all the gifts he received related to the journey that he would be making a month later. Hop Sing delivered his gift early that morning, as Little Joe was dressing for the day. Opening the slender box, Joe found a gray silk cravat. “Silk come all-a-way from China,” the Cantonese cook announced. “You wear with fancy suit so not fo’get Hop Sing when gone.”
Joe feigned offense at the suggestion. “As if I would! Hop Sing, you know I’d take you with me, except my poor brother Hoss would pine away without you here to keep him going.”
“How you pay fo’ Hop Sing ticket when Mistah Adam have to pay fo’ yours?” Hop Sing asked tartly. His attempt to cover his emotion failing, he added, “You be a good boy, Little Joe.”
Joe pressed his palm to his heart. “Good as gold—just like always,” he vowed, then threw his head back and cackled.
Hop Sing wagged his head at what he typically referred to as “foolishment” and turned away quickly so Little Joe would not see the merriment twinkling in his almond eyes. “Hmph! You good like fool’s gold,” he scoffed, using a simile he’d picked up from Adam.
Recognizing the source, Little Joe poked his tongue at the back of Hop Sing’s head, but he didn’t really mind it when Hop Sing said the words. Knowing his friend spoke them in jest, the words didn’t carry the same sting they did when his much-too-critical eldest brother uttered them in complete sincerity.
The family’s celebration, a private one this year, took place after a supper of Joe’s favorite foods. His father presented him with a plain white envelope, which contained a brief, but valuable letter, informing Joe that the family tailor would be expecting him for a fitting within the week. “I thought you should have one proper suit before you left home,” Ben explained, “in case what you buy in Philadelphia can’t be altered as quickly as you have need. You pick whatever style and fabric you want, son, and have Mr. Barton send me the bill.”
Joe flashed a grateful smile and thanked his father before opening Adam’s gift next. As he had expected from the size and shape of the box, it contained a comfortable and stylish pair of balmorals. Despite his insistence that he wanted to do his shopping in Philadelphia, Joe had done some investigation in the stores of Virginia City, and he knew that these shoes were of better quality and higher price than he would have considered buying himself. His expression of thanks to Adam was heartfelt and hearty.
Hoss’s gift aroused almost as much curiosity in the youngest Cartwright as had his father’s, for Joe had no more idea what aid to his trip the bulky bundle might conceal than he’d had about the contents of that unassuming envelope. It turned out to be a new carpetbag, the first Little Joe had personally owned. On previous travels he had always borrowed whatever luggage he needed from another member of the family and had planned to do so for this journey, as well, but he was delighted to have a bag of his own and told Hoss so.
Hoss crinkled his nose in the self-effacing way he had. “Just figured you’d need an extra, with havin’ to pack for such a long trip,” he said. “Or maybe you’ll just wanna save this one for totin’ back them fancy duds you buy back east.”
Joe flung an arm around his bulky brother. “Not on your life,” he declared. “I’m using this for my on-train clothes. I want to keep it close to me.”
Hoss blushed with pleasure and, to take attention off himself, suggested that it was time for Joe to blow out his candles and cut the cake. A couple of loud amen’s met this suggestion, and with a happy grin Joe moved toward the table, where Hop Sing stood ready with matches to light the nineteen candles.
* * * * *
The next four weeks flew. Both Adam, in business matters, and Little Joe, in his horse-breaking responsibilities, were diligent in making sure that their work was caught up so the load on those left behind would be as light as possible. On the night of June 12th both excused themselves directly after supper to complete their packing, for the long-anticipated journey would begin early the next morning.
Little Joe had just finished laying out what he would wear on the train when he heard a rap on his door and called, “Come in.”
Though Joe had expected to see Adam, come to offer yet another piece of unwanted advice about what he should pack in his bag for the train and what should be checked through to Omaha, he was pleased to see his father, instead. “Hey, Pa, come on in,” he said with a bright smile. “I wanted a chance to say good-bye.”
“No need for that now,” Ben said as he closed the door behind him. “You can do that at the depot tomorrow.”
“You gonna see us off?” Joe asked, eyes glowing. “I figured you wouldn’t want to get up that early.”
Ben reached out to caress the back of his son’s neck. “I’m not the one who has a hard time getting up in the morning, young man,” he teased. “Besides, I want to keep you in sight as long as I can. I’m going to miss you, son.”
Joe moved into his father’s arms. “I’m gonna miss you, too, Pa.”
“Now, you’re not getting homesick already, are you?” Ben chided playfully as he broke the embrace and took a seat at the foot of Joe’s bed.
Joe plopped down companionably next to him. “Naw, that’s for kids.”
“Oh.” Ben smiled wryly, amused, as always, by Joe’s deep-seated need to be considered a man. He patted the boy’s knee. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know, longing for your loved ones when you’re far from home.”
Joe shrugged as he offered his father a sheepish smile. “I guess.”
“Getting excited?” Ben suggested, to point his son’s thoughts in another direction.
Joe almost bubbled. “Oh, yeah! So much I don’t know if I’ll sleep a wink tonight. Been looking forward to this for so long, I can’t believe it’s really happening. I was kind of scared I’d manage to bang myself up somehow and have to miss it, after all.”
“Oh, Joe,” Ben commiserated. “I wish I’d known. That’s not a good frame of mind to have when you’re breaking horses.”
“I did a good job,” Joe murmured defensively.
“You did an excellent job,” Ben praised warmly, “but if I’d known how you were feeling, I could have gotten you some more help, so you wouldn’t have had to do so much of that bronc-busting yourself.”
“I wanted to do it myself,” Joe assured him, “and I was extra careful. Just a silly little idea nibblin’ at the back of my mind, that’s all. Nothing to it.”
Ben drew an envelope from inside his vest. “I have something for you.”
Joe took the envelope and gave his father a cheeky smile. “I don’t think I have time for another visit to Mr. Barton, Pa.”
Ben laughed at the reference to the birthday gift he’d given his son. “No, but about half the money in that envelope is intended to go toward your clothing purchases in Philadelphia, the rest being an advance on your next month’s wages.”
Joe whistled at the sum inside the envelope. “Thanks, Pa, this’ll really help. I—uh—haven’t done quite as good a job as I intended of saving my pennies, as Adam puts it.”
“I know,” Ben said, a touch gruffly.
Joe glanced up hesitantly, wondering if Pa knew that he had not only failed to save his pennies, but had, in fact, lost a goodly number of them at the poker table. The look on Pa’s face clearly showed that he did know, so Joe didn’t bother trying to hide his failings. “Seemed like a good way to make more pennies at the time,” he sighed, “but I came up short, instead of ahead.”
Ben had to laugh. Joseph, at barely nineteen, was simply too young to have developed a proficient poker face. His open countenance instantly told opponents whether his hand was a good one or he was trying to bluff through a bad one. “Let that be a lesson to you, young man,” Ben said lightly and then grew more serious. “Try to stay out of poker games while you’re away, Joseph, and don’t go near anything riskier.”
Joe squirmed a little. “Hey, I don’t think I’ll have much chance to get into trouble with that old watchdog of a brother along,” he quipped.
“That old watchdog is filling that role at my behest,” Ben stated firmly. “I want you to remember that while you are away, you are to give the same obedience and respect to your older brother that I would expect you to give me.”
“Pa, I know,” Joe said. It was not the first time he’d heard that lecture and saw no reason for another repetition. “I’ll mind Adam best I can.”
Ben arched an eyebrow. “You will mind him totally, Joseph.”
Joe straightened up and nodded briskly. “Yes, sir, that’s what I meant.” Seeing his father’s smile, he loosened up. “Thanks again for the money, Pa. I sure never expected anything like this. It’s an awful lot of money for you to throw away on your slapdash son.”
Ben brushed the comment aside. “Far less than I would have spent on your college education, had you chosen to go that route, and I figure this trip will stand in place of that as an opportunity for learning.”
Impulsively, Joe grabbed his father for another hug, his heart brimming with gratitude that Pa, at least, understood his feelings about college and held out no expectations that this trip would change them. Now, if he could just convince stubborn old Adam.
Ben brushed a quick kiss behind the boy’s ear, and then stood up. “Better turn in soon, Joe,” he advised. “It’ll be a short night, as it is.”
“I will,” Joe promised. “Good night, Pa.”
“Good night, son,” Ben said with one final ruffle of the boy’s chestnut curls, an indulgence he knew he couldn’t allow himself at the depot tomorrow.
Ben moved down the hall to the room of his oldest son and knocked on the door.
“That you, Joe?” Adam called.
Ben opened the door. “No, it’s me, son. I know you’re busy, but I’d like a moment of your time.”
“I’m finished,” Adam said, gesturing for his father to enter, “but I probably should check on Little Joe one last time. I’ve tried to give him good advice about his packing, but I don’t think he’s been listening.”
“Leave him be, Adam,” Ben advised. “He’s not likely to make any mistakes he can’t live with, when it comes to simply packing a carpetbag.”
“I suppose not,” Adam admitted. “Is that what you wanted to tell me, to go easy on Joe?”
Ben frowned, and his voice carried an air of irritation as he began, “I don’t want you ‘to go easy’ on him, but”—the tone softened to an entreaty—“be good to him, son.”
Adam sat on his bed, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back against the headboard. “I was under the impression that I was already being rather expansively ‘good to him,’” he observed.
Ben shook his head. “You’re being expansively generous—with your money. I just wish you could be as generous with your heart, Adam.”
Adam bristled. Though Pa rarely brought up the issue, he had, on other occasions, admonished his eldest son about what he called Adam’s “inclination toward aloofness,” his tendency to hold even those he loved at arms’ length. Adam slowly sat up, prepared to defend himself if his father broached that uncomfortable subject yet again.
Seeing the reaction, Ben softened his counsel. “Enjoy your brother’s company, Adam. Most people do, you know, and there must be some reason. I think it’s time you discovered it.” He pulled from his vest an envelope identical to the one he’d given Little Joe. “This contains your wages for the time you’ll be gone,” he explained, “as well as a bonus to spend as you see fit. I just gave Joseph a similar sum, which I expect him to spend on clothing.”
“I’ll see to it,” Adam assured him.
“No need,” Ben said firmly. “I trust Joseph. Adam, I’m sure there will be plenty of instances when you have to pull him up on a short rein, but don’t make problems for yourself by yanking the bit when you don’t have to.”
Adam smiled at the image of a bit in his little brother’s mouth. It would make him so much easier to control! As that was not a thought he could share with his father, he said, instead, “It’s good advice, and I’ll bear it in mind, Pa.”
Ben nodded at the envelope in his son’s hand. “Don’t be afraid to ask for more if you need it; it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I want you to enjoy it fully. You’ve always been trustworthy and frugal, Adam, but I don’t want you to stint yourself—or Joseph—unnecessarily. And as we’ve discussed before, make whatever purchases for the Ponderosa you deem worthwhile. I have implicit faith in your judgment, son.”
Though less open emotionally than the other Cartwrights, Adam glowed under the warmth of his father’s praise. “I’m sur