Summary:   A trip to Yerington has tragic consequences for the Cartwrights.

Rating:  PG  (Warning:  Character Death)

Word Count:   4,271

Wavering Series:

Wavering
Silence
Whispers

Wavering

 

Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver. – Sophocles

 

* * * * *

 

I could see the heat from the late afternoon sun rising off the earth in shimmering waves – a silent testament to how hot it had become so early in June. I couldn’t wait to get to our friends, the Bynums, and take refuge from the oppressive weather inside their ranch house. The trees in the distance wavered before my eyes, and slow trickles of sweat rolled down my back.

Joe, Hoss, and I had been in Yerington for the past week and the horses we bought from old man Drake were well worth the trip.  I wasn’t so sure, but I guess Joe’s affinity for horseflesh paid off.  The string was a fine one, and Joe had made the right decision. Not that I could tell him that – his ego was already big enough without my adding to it.

Since Joe wasn’t legally old enough to sign the final papers, he and our middle brother had left me to take care of the final details of the sale. They had about an hour’s lead on me and should be resting at our friend’s home by now. It was a two day ride back to the ranch, and it would be nice to have a decent supper rather than jerky on the trail.

Shifting in the saddle, I tried to find an easier position to ride in. It hadn’t been the most comfortable day’s worth of sitting I could remember. I couldn’t wait to get back home and in my own bed. He hoped that, by the time he arrived, he wouldn’t be permanently bow-legged.

Passing through the stand of trees that marked the border of the Bynum ranch, the distant sound of gunshots caused Sport to dance nervously for a moment. My heart lurched in fear. I knew things had been peaceful with the Indians, but there was always a possibility of renegades this far out.

I spurred my mount into a faster gait, and it wasn’t long before the small log structure came into view. The doorway was open and swinging. I closed my eyes, dreading what lay beyond.

Quickly dismounting and tying Sport next to my brother’s horses at the hitching rail, I eased my gun from its holster and noted several fresh tracks in the yard – more tracks than my brothers would account for. I silently made my way to the gaping entrance and stopped short at the sight which greeted me.

The first thing I noticed was the cloying smell of blood when I crossed the threshold. The second thing I noticed was that Vivian, Matthew, and my brothers were lying in growing pools of the stuff. Swallowing the nausea in the back of my throat, I could readily see there was nothing I could do for the Bynums. I pushed the knowledge from my mind as I holstered my gun and hurried over to my brothers to kneel between the two of them.

I could feel the blood soaking through the dark material of my pants, but I couldn’t allow myself to think about whose blood it was. I started to reach for Hoss but noticed my hands were shaking. I pulled them back and tried to steady my hands as well as my breathing. I wouldn’t do them any good if I couldn’t get control of myself.

Hoss was flat on his back, unconscious, with a gunshot wound high on his chest. I ripped at the fabric, and it gave easily. The wound wasn’t large. His chest rose and fell but, otherwise, he made no other movements. Lifting him slightly, I ran my hands under his back and couldn’t find an exit wound. ‘Maybe I can keep an infection from setting if I can clean it out good enough.’

“Hoss, I need to check on Joe before I get you bandaged.”

Patting his shoulder and leaving a blood stained hand print on the white shirt, I moved over to our youngest brother. Joe was sprawled face down with a large patch of blood spreading across his back. I pulled at the tan material and couldn’t hold back the bitter curses at the sight. It was an ugly wound and in a bad place – near his spine. Carefully, I turned him over to find a matching hole in his chest. He was still breathing, but it was fast, shallow. His face was waxen and a rivulet of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

My heart felt like it was trying to escape from my chest as I recognized the implications of that small bit of blood on Joe’s face—internal damage. I closed my eyes and sent a quick prayer heavenwards. When I opened them, I had to pry my fingers loose from his shirt.

“Joe, listen to me. I need you to stay here while I go look for things to make bandages. Just…stay here.” After placing a reassuring squeeze on Joe’s arm, I slowly got up and looked around me for the first time.

I was astonished at the damage – whoever had done this had done a good job. Furniture lay on its side and papers were scattered about the place. Stepping carefully, I made my way to the back of the house where the path of destruction continued.

Shoving a bookcase out of my way, I entered Vivian and Matthew’s bedroom. My eyes darted about the room—spying the sheets tossed carelessly on the floor. I snatched the cloth and headed back the way I had come.

Now I needed something to use to clean out the wounds. I could see broken glass everywhere – Matthew’s stock of brandy was a puddle near the front door. I hoped water would be enough to keep my brothers’ injuries from festering.

I shook myself free of the horror before me and headed for the small kitchen. I stopped to check on Joe, placing the sheets next to him. I let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t gone anywhere. I glanced at Hoss – still unconscious.

Reluctantly, I left my brothers to search for something to clean their wounds out. As I looked around the kitchen, I had to maneuver around the chaos to find a bowl still intact. I spotted a dented mixing bowl on the counter. Grabbing it, I filled it with water. I scanned the room and found a clean dish towel. I turned from the room, needing my brothers to still be with me.

I didn’t know who to help first. Joe would take more time than Hoss. Our middle brother could wait, while younger brother couldn’t. My will wasn’t strong enough this time to keep my hands from shaking. I sat the bowl and towel down, reaching for the sheets I had discarded earlier. Working swiftly, I tore the material in strips.

“Just checking, kid,” I whispered – a trembling hand searched for a pulse in Joe’s neck. It was there – weak and thready but there.

I pulled the shirt away from his body and winced at the sight.  Discarding the ruined material, I placed the bowl next to me. I began the difficult task of washing the blood and violence away from my youngest brother. Small moans of pain as I worked let me know Joe was still with us. By the time I had finished, the water had turned red. I lifted him up and bound his chest as well as I could. ‘Please, Lord, let it be enough.’ 

I left long enough to change out the water. I went to Hoss and pulled at his shirt, too. The wound looked red and swollen beneath the blood. Working quickly, I cleaned his wound and bound his arm to his chest. At the end of my task, I was grateful to see him stirring.

Leaning over him, I asked, “Hoss, can you hear me?”

I watched as his eyelids twitched, a frown taking up residence on his face. After a few moments, his eyes opened. I found a smile from somewhere for him. I put my hand to his forehead, checking for signs of a fever – so far so good. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” Hoss rasped, trying to joke. He looked around for a moment before looking back at me. “How’s Joe?”

God help me, I couldn’t meet his eyes when I answered. “Not so good. He’s got a bad wound to his back and chest. He hasn’t stirred much since I got here.”

Hoss’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment. His breathing was harsh and lines of pain had formed on his face.

“And what about—” Hoss started to ask, but I interrupted before he could finish.

“They’re dead – there was nothing I could do to help.”

“I-I know there wasn’t, Adam. I—” he stopped speaking and turned away from me. I placed a hand on his shoulder, offering what comfort I could. There would be plenty to time later to talk.

“Hoss, I need you to watch Joe for me,” I said while Hoss struggled to keep his pain hidden from me. I hoped this task would keep him focused on something besides the death of our friends. “I need to…take care of a few things. I’ll be back as quickly as possible.”

He didn’t say anything but nodded his head. Cursing myself for not thinking of it sooner, I head back into the bedrooms looking for pillows and decided to take the mattress, too. Joe and Hoss would need something soft besides a hard floor for sleeping. I headed back to my brothers with what I had found.

I placed the bedding away from the blood on the floor and, taking the rag I had discarded, cleaned up the area as best I could. I didn’t want them to sleep in their own blood. After I had gotten the bedding in place, I helped Hoss maneuver on to it before getting Joe. I tried to be gentle when I picked him, but from his whimpers I wasn’t successful. He was pale, and the trail of blood still came from his mouth. I hoped we’d have enough bandages to last the night – his already had a patch of red seeping through.

“I’ll be done as soon as I can, okay?” I looked at my brother as I stood up. “Just keep an eye on him, and don’t you move either.”

I wasn’t sure how long I worked at burying the bodies. By the time I had finished, the moon was rising and the first stars were visible. I took care of the horses while I was outside. I had been glad to see a wagon in the barn, and a good team of horses in the corral. It’d make my job of getting my brothers to a doctor sooner much easier.

I grabbed our saddlebags, bedrolls, and canteens and headed back to the house. Entering the home, I tossed everything down by the door and bolted us in for the night. I turned and could see Joe was still out. I knelt next to him, and he felt cool to my hand. Hoss had passed out and, when I felt his forehead, was beginning to run a temperature. I went back for the blankets and carefully covered my brothers.

I settled myself down next to the mattress. It was going to be a long night.

* * * * *

A soft noise near dawn woke me from my light doze. Glancing at Hoss, he didn’t seem to have moved since I’d last checked him. I moved my gaze back to Joe and was startled to see a pair of tired green eyes staring back at me.

I found a smile somewhere and leaned towards Joe. I wiped at the blood that had dried on his chin. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

His mouth moved but no words came out. I reached for one of our canteens and lifted his head. Carefully, I poured water into his mouth, and he drank a few swallows. “Want more?”

He weakly shook his head, and I replaced the cork. I lay him back on the pile of pillows, careful to not jar him and start the bleeding again. I had finally gotten it under control a couple of hours earlier.

“Happened?” he breathed.

“I don’t know – I heard shots and when I got here you and Hoss were hurt. I didn’t see anyone riding away.” A bit of movement flashed out of the corner of my eye, and I reached out to grasp his hand in mine. “You’ll be alright once I get you to Doc Martin.”

Even as I said the words, I knew what a lie they were. Joe’s breathing was becoming more labored and there was no color left in his face. It would be a miracle for Joe to survive this one. We needed a miracle, and I wasn’t above begging for one either.

He smiled at me and weakly squeezed my hand as if letting me know he would be fine – one way or another. My heart constricted at the thought. His eyes closed, and his lolled to one side. I reached out and felt for a pulse and found one.

I lay back down but didn’t relinquish my hold on Joe. I waited for dawn, counting the breaths my younger brother made.

The next couple of hours passed slowly. I was thankful for every soft inhalation Joe took. Hoss’s fever continued to rise, and the wet clothes on his forehead seemed to do little to help. He called out for Joe and our pa at times. More often than not, he simply mumbled incoherently.

When I saw the first streaks of light crossing the sky, I hurried outside to hitch up the wagon. We needed to get an early start – at best we were four hours from the nearest town. I looked through the barn, searching for the cover to the buckboard. I didn’t need for my brother’s to get a sunburn or worse on top of everything else. Finding what I looked for, I quickly had the tarp covering the bed of the wagon.

Hurrying back into the house, I went about making coffee and breakfast. I needed something easy for Joe and Hoss to eat. I settled for a broth made from beef jerky and beans. It wouldn’t be very good but would keep their strength up for the journey home.

I put the soup in cups I’d found and went back to the living room. Hoss was awake and seemed to be alert. I knelt next to him, helping him sit up. “I know this isn’t as good as that mesquite beans recipe you’re known for, but it’ll have to do for now.”

His fevered eyes focused on me, and he let out a harsh laugh. “You ain’t never gonna let me live that down, are ya?”

“Would you let me or Joe live it down?” I asked, helping him eat the soup since he only had one free arm.

“Aw, now, you know I’d never breathe a word to nobody about it.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” A weak voice startled both of us as Hoss finished his breakfast. I grinned at the larger man and moved to Joe’s side.

“You feel like eating some broth before we head out? I promise not a mesquite bean in sight.” My sad attempt at a joke got a twitch of Joe’s lips. I propped him up with pillows and spooned the soup into him. After a few mouthfuls, he turned his head away. I’d always known when to pick my battles and this just wasn’t worth the cost.

“Okay you two, I need to change the bandages before getting the mattress in the back of the wagon.”

I gathered my strength and supplies. By the time I was finished, all of us were sweating. Hoss’s wound looked angry in its redness, streaks of infection radiating out from the center. Joe’s injuries didn’t show any signs of becoming infected. I wasn’t sure he could handle that on top of the damage already caused by the gunshots.

I helped them to settle on the floor as comfortably as possible while I loaded the back of the buckboard. With our meager gear, it didn’t take long. I was glad Hoss was awake because it made it a bit easier to get him settle on the mattress. Joe, however, I wished had been unconscious. I gathered him to me, and he let out a low yelp of pain. Every step I took, he moaned. I found myself whispering nonsensical words, praying he would be alright.

I wasn’t sure I would be okay after this. Once I had him situated on the bedding, I looked at his makeshift dressing. It had started bleeding again and red was seeping through the material. The small trickle of blood was back, too. Bitter curses welled in me at the sight, and I couldn’t suppress them. I tried to find calmness to deal with this but found myself wishing Pa was here, instead.

“Hoss, I need to help me keep an eye on him. Give a yell if you need anything back, you hear?” I watched him nod his head in agreement. I patted the arm near me and backed out of the wagon.

“Adam…” the weak voice of Joe stopped me just as I was about to jump down. I hurried back and knelt by him. He reached a hand towards me, and I didn’t hesitate as I grasped it. “You’ll be just fine. Just wait and see.”

His gripped loosened in mine. He was unconscious again and that, I suppose, was a blessing. Tucking his arm under the blanket again, I said, “You’re right. We’ll be as right as rain in no time.”

I left Hoss to keep watch, and I jumped out of back of the buckboard. After tying our horses to the back of the wagon, I moved to climb into the driver’s seat. Snapping the reins, we got off to a slightly rocky start as the team pulled us forward. The movement evened out, and we were on our way home.

* * * * *

After the first few miles, I’d made it a habit to stop and check on Hoss and Joe. Hoss’s fever had begun to climb again, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to call out for help should either of them need it. We’d finally passed the border of the Ponderosa, but I decided to head straight for Virginia City. I hoped we would meet a ranch hand to send for Pa. So far, we hadn’t found anyone, and I wasn’t willing to make the detour.

Hopping down from the driver’s seat for our next stop, I climbed in back. Hoss was unconscious again. His skin felt papery to the touch when I felt it to gauge his fever. I lifted his head and carefully let water trickle into his mouth. When he’d drank what I considered a good amount, I eased him back down and moved to Joe.

Joe, bless him, was still with us. I’d had to change his bandages two more times since we’d left the Bynum ranch, but he was still hanging on. I wiped at the persistent bit of blood coming from his mouth. He hadn’t regain consciousness since I’d put him back here – in a way I was grateful. He was pain free but there wasn’t the reassurance of his voice, either.

“Joe, it’s just a few more miles. You’ll be at Doc’s office, and Pa will be there, too.” I reached behind me for the canteen when I heard his voice.

“Adam…A-Adam…” he breathed. Canteen forgotten, I turned around to face him. I leaned over him, resting my hand on his shoulder.

“Joe? Do you need something? Water?”

He barely shook his head, and tried to focus on me. His breathing was shallower than I remembered, and it scared me. I heard the one sound I never wanted to hear from one of my brothers: a death rattle. I’d heard it many times in my life and never wanted to associate it with Hoss or Joe.

“Joe?” I asked after the continued silence from him. The blood from his mouth was flowing more freely, and I hoped we’d get to Paul’s office soon.

His hand twitched, and I moved my hand from his shoulder to grasp it tightly. I could feel a lump form in my throat and could barely breathe around it. I let my other hand rest in his hair – almost in benediction.

“It’ll be okay, Adam, you’ll see,” he said, trying his best to reassure me. His breathing was coming in shorter and shorter gasps. “Adam…”

“Joe?” I choked on his name. I lifted him, hoping to ease his breathing. I didn’t want to hear this from him – it sounded like the words of a dying man. I watched as he took a slightly deeper breath before exhaling on a sigh. His hand became limp in mine and no inhalation followed. His eyes stared ahead, and I reached a trembling hand out to close them.

I could feel the tears burn my eyes but couldn’t let them fall. Gently, as if it mattered now, I placed him back on his small pile of pillows and covered him with the blanket. ‘How do I tell Pa and Hoss?’ I glanced behind me and was thankful Hoss was still out.

I started when I heard a voice coming from the end of the wagon. I turned to see Pete standing in the opening.

“Mr. Cartwright, is everything okay?” he asked, looking at Joe and Hoss before meeting my eyes.

I wanted scream at him that nothing would be okay but didn’t. I grated out, “No, I need for you to ride and get Pa. Tell him Hoss and Joe have been shot, and I’m taking them into town.”

I watched the younger man turn away and mount his horse. He quickly spurred the animal in the direction of home and was gone from sight a moment later. I checked on Hoss a final time and moved out of the back. I couldn’t be near Joe much longer and keep my composure intact. I climbed into the driver’s seat and continued on to Virginia City.

Pa. How was I going to tell him? Only two sons were coming home. Bitter regret blurred my eyes.

The miles passed in a haze, my mind throwing images at me from years long gone. Joe as a smiling baby; him as a small child running from some real or imagined fright; and Joe turning into a fine young man – someone I was proud to call brother. The dull edge of grief suddenly turned sharp once again.

I was grateful when we pulled up in front of Paul’s office. I yelled for him and jumped off the seat. I was going around back when he came out of his office.

“Adam, who needs help?” the other man called out as I climbed in the back with my brothers.

“Hoss has been shot in the shoulder – the bullet’s still in there,” I said, shifting around so he could get a better look at him. Paul removed the bandages, and the wound looked worse than I remembered. He started calling out orders for someone to help move Hoss to the surgery.

Hands appeared from a gray nowhere and pulled Hoss from the buckboard.

“Adam, where’s Joe?”

I felt a touch on my arm and looked up to see Paul staring at me. I turned to look behind me. I heard his sharp inhalation at the sight of the covered body.  I heard him speaking softly to someone. A gentle touch on my shoulder, and he was gone. There was no longer a need for him here.

Another voiced sounded nearby – Roy was kneeling next to me. His eyes held tears that I couldn’t allow for myself. I wanted to shut out the sight but forced myself to meet his gaze.

“Son, what happened?” he asked, his voice none too steady.

What could I say? I still didn’t know the full truth of what had happened. I could only tell him what I knew – hoping it would be enough for now. Questions remained, but he didn’t ask them. He offered me the only bit of comfort he could at the moment.

“Why don’t you go inside and wait for your pa. I-I’ll get a couple of the boys to help me take care of Joe.”

I felt a tugging on my arm and allowed myself to be pulled from Joe’s side. I was led inside and told to rest. After that, I was left alone to my thoughts. The enormity of what had happened began to seep in. I couldn’t understand how a person could be here one second and gone the next – as if they’d never existed. All our tomorrows were filled with a void. All our yesterdays were hollow comfort. I felt as if a hand was squeezing my heart, and I could barely breathe for the pain of it.

I could hear the sound of raised voices outside – the door to Paul’s waiting room opened.  The steady approach of footsteps caused me to look up. My father’s pale face stared back at me. His voice shook when he spoke.

“Adam? Is Paul still with your brothers?”

The hope in his eyes was my undoing. The desperate control I had fought so long to maintain deserted me.

“Pa. I need to tell you something.”

-The End-

Next Story in the Wavering Series:

Silence
Whispers