They left him for dead on the side of the road, where the foothills meet the high desert. It was a lonely place to die, but the bandits knew that. Nobody would be traveling along that road for days and days… By that time, it would be too late.

Sprawled in the dirt like that, Ben tried opening his eyes, but they were sealed shut with dust and unshed tears. He could taste blood in his mouth, and he swallowed. Didn’t have the strength to spit. He must have lain like that, somewhere between the dead and the living, for hours. Could it be days? For a time, he could feel the sun on his face, then he felt the cold dark spread over him like a pall, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes to confirm it. Ben knew what he knew. It was night, and he slept.

When he awoke, it was almost dawn. He still couldn’t open his eyes, but he could feel it. Morning – time to start a new day. He grunted at the thought. His own boys would just now be waking. Ben had always been a punctual man, and he had tried to raise his boys to be the same. Even as a child, Ben had rarely needed waking. Adam was very much the same way, and Hoss tried so hard, no one really minded when he was late. This made it all the more difficult to cope with his youngest son and his seeming inability to be anywhere at the correct time. Adam had taken to tinkering with the family’s clock, letting everyone but Joe know that the time was now set a good half hour too fast. Of course it didn’t do a bit of good, and it didn’t take long before Joe let them know that Adam’s ploy wasn’t going to work. Sowing his oats like he’d been lately, Joe took the extra time as a gift. He dawdled on his own terms and in his own good time…

Even covered with blood and grit, Ben had to smile ruefully at that ongoing irritation. His boys had a way of bringing him back to life, even when there was so much distance between them. 

And he was already so far away… 

Ben knew the signs, and they weren’t good. He was numb upon first waking, but then the pain had come raging in. He was shaking, and not only because he was cold. The pain at the back of his head told its own story. The larger bandit – the dark one who had ordered him off his horse – had been the one who raised his gun and brought it down hard on the back of his head. It had been hard enough to kill. Ben had always joked that all Cartwrights had hard heads, and this proved it. Ben had no doubt that the bushwhackers had every intention of killing him. But they’d gotten what they wanted – an easy two thousand dollars in cash – they were in the middle of nowhere, and besides…it was as easy to let him die slowly as put more work into a killing. One way or another, it didn’t matter much to them. They might as well save a bullet.

Lord, he was thirsty. He needed water and needed it fast. Couldn’t afford to lie here helplessly any longer. Ben decided that he had to open his eyes. He rubbed at them, until little by little, he managed to rub away the dirt and filth. He felt like a newborn, blinking his way back to life again. It wasn’t much, but Ben just kept on blinking. Little by little, the world came back into focus. It was a bleak awakening. He was lying way off the side of the road, between clumps of sage and the butte. The bandits must have dragged him there after they’d knocked him out. Ben felt a gnash against his cheek and realized he was resting on a branch of chaparral. It made a poor pillow, and Ben managed to snag it, tossing it out of the way, and his face came to rest on rocks instead. That, at least, was an improvement. Of course, his own warm feather bed would be even better, but he couldn’t afford to be thinking about home. A man could drift away to death, yearning for past luxuries. And yet, how could he stop himself?

He had been trying to get back home. Back to unfinished business. His boys would be home, eating breakfast and downing their last cups of coffee. He imagined them around the table, maybe glaring impatiently up the stairs. Was Joseph still in bed? Someone would have to wake him, before Hoss finished off the rest of the ham and eggs. They would have a busy day waiting for them. Someone would need to finish up with fencing the north section, and of course, they needed to be done with the branding. The round up had to happen next week, so they’d be set to drive the herd to Salt Lake City. Ben had already wired home that his negotiations had been successful. The buyers in Utah were eager and willing to buy Ponderosa beeves, and they’d been willing to pay him well to back it up. His saddlebags had been packed with a flush deposit. It had been a risk, riding back alone to the Ponderosa while carrying so much cash. He’d have given his boys an earful if they’d been fool enough to do the same. But the roads had been relatively safe since the Calvary had started patrolling the area, looking out for renegade Indian parties. Ben had been sure everything would be just fine, and he had been especially eager to get back home this time…

But he wasn’t fine, and the sun was rising. He remembered that it was morning, and he needed to stay awake. Ben tried to push himself up, just for a moment to look around, but the marrow of his bones apparently had turned to liquid while he’d been out. He couldn’t hold his position, and he fell back to the ground even harder. This time he managed to spit out the blood that pooled inside his mouth. He slept.

When he woke up, it was morning again. The sun was even lower in the sky than it had been before; he must have slept through at least another day. Ben knew he didn’t have much time. He wondered if his sons were already worried. Did they know he was gone? Lord only knew how much time had passed. Somehow, he managed a smile. Once they figured there was trouble, Joseph would want to start a search party right away. His youngest son was only sixteen, but he used up all the air in a room when his emotions were running high. His smile faded, thinking of Joseph, remembering the last time they’d spoken together. But Ben couldn’t think of that now. He had to conserve his strength. Focus on getting better so that he could sort out what was between them. Adam would know how to keep Joseph constrained and under control. Sometimes, Adam was even better than Ben at exercising his authority. Adam. His oldest son would make a fine father someday. Ben started to close his eyes…

And like that, he jerked them open again. It came to him that he was very close to death, closer than he had ever been before. Nothing seemed to hurt any more. The trials of the past couple days, the pain in his head, the shock, the blood – they all seemed to be passing. There was something inside Ben that was almost willing to see them go. He was not afraid of death. He knew what was waiting for him on the other side. A smile drifted across his dry lips. He was tempted to follow that smile where it might lead. Even to the other life.

Too soon, too soon! He jarred himself awake. The beating of his heart seemed to be reminding him. He had worked so hard, had so much left to do. How could he be ready to leave it all behind? His work was still unfinished. This world still had a hold on him. Almost against his own volition, he felt himself clenching the ground underneath him, clawing at the dirt until he felt pain again. He allowed himself a grim sense of satisfaction. He needed to feel pain, to remind himself that life was worth fighting for. Ben fought the coming darkness to think of his boys. What would they do without him? 

He thought of Adam first. It was only appropriate. This was his firstborn, the one who survived all his father’s mistakes and even shouldered them. He remembered Adam as a child. He was a serious boy with a stoic acceptance of whatever hardship befell them. Adam’s habit of careful observation must have been born during those difficult hungry years. Adam, even still, was always watching. His oldest son was young, but he had grown into a fine intelligent man. Knowing Adam would take care of things was an enormous comfort. Ben almost had to close his eyes. He wanted to sleep. The sun was so bright, and his head hurt so much, it would have been easy to just go to sleep. But he kept his eyes open, locked on the top of the butte. Stay awake, stay awake, he ordered himself. It was a matter of discipline. And yet the voice in his head sounded more like Adam’s than his own. How much did he owe to his oldest boy? Perhaps, he would never really know.

But there was more he wanted for Adam – a lot more. Would it be wrong to admit he longed to see the day when his son met someone he loved and started a life of his own? Adam was twenty-eight years old, and as far as Ben knew, had only been in love once. She had died too young, and Adam had never really gotten over it. Ben didn’t know if he ever would. Ben knew all about love and grief, yet, he had managed to carry on. But Adam was different. He took things hard in his quiet way. Although Ben didn’t think about it often, given the circumstances, he figured he could indulge himself with a few regrets. Lying there even with his own blood dried on his skin, he could even think of the grandchildren he’d always wished for. Wistfully, Ben thought about what a blessing it would be to have little ones in the house again. Ah, but he was getting ahead of himself… as it was, he’d be fortunate to live until nightfall, let alone to see another generation grow up on the Ponderosa. Ben needed to ride herd on the challenges that were in front of him – not always be chasing the ones that got away.

Always chasing the ones that got away… Ben smiled. That was something he’d heard Hoss say the week before he left. Hoss had been giving Joe advice over some sort of heartbreak that Joseph was sure he’d never get over, and Hoss was just as sure that he would. Between the girls and everything else, Joseph had been keeping them all on edge. It had taken a toll on the family, but Hoss had a way of making things better. What Ben would give to have Hoss right beside him again… 

Ben was alone in a wilderness, but Hoss could always spot the life in desolation. A solitary squirrel, a scatter of jays, a startled deer. Hoss saw the way that light lifted the shadows of a canyon. Nothing was too small or insignificant to escape his notice. He just couldn’t always put it to words. Some people who didn’t know better regarded Hoss as a simple man. But his family knew that words didn’t always matter as much as truth. And if that made Hoss a simple man, Lord grant it that they should all be so simple. 

There was so much that he could have said to Hoss each and every day. So much that he never said, because his middle son just seemed to know. I’m proud of you, son. I know who you are – I know you. Ben would have said the words out loud, in hopes that Hoss would somehow hear, but the words just seemed to wither in his throat. Hoss would have understood any way. Words weren’t necessary. That’s the way it was with Hoss.

Overhead, a hawk was soaring up and over and then it was gone. Ben watched the space it left behind for a long time after. He had gone too long without water. He held his hands in front of him, and saw that the sun had burnt the places that weren’t torn and bleeding. He no longer had a young man’s hands. It wasn’t the sort of thing he often took the time to notice. That’s how he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. The days that were marked out for him seemed to be coming to an end. Honestly, it came as a surprise. He had no idea it would happen this soon. 

Too soon. His other boys would forgive their father an early death, but Joe would never get over it. Not with the way things had been between them. The fact hit him harder than any physical pain, and Ben was suddenly sure of it. Joseph was not really a boy but hardly a man. He was sixteen, and lately he’d been committing many of the errors in judgment that a young man could make. Even dying under the desert sun, Ben rolled his eyes. Joseph. It was both irritating and humbling how much he had left to teach this son and how much Joe had left to learn. And yet they seemed to have run out of time.

The wind was picking up, scattering dust and debris over him. Ben was too tired to brush it away. The strange desire to close his eyes came over him again. It would be so easy to listen to the song of the wind and follow it away, if it weren’t for his sons. So many things had been left unsaid. It was tempting to believe his fate was already decided. After all, his own strength was fading fast. They would have to go on without him. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do. He’d done what he could. They would be all right. They would make do without him. He had faith in Adam and Hoss. He had done his best as their father, and he could leave them without undue worry. Adam would take care of things, even at the expense of his own hopes and dreams. Hoss would mourn. Yet, even in sadness, he would live out what he had been taught. Adam and Hoss were both good men who had already learned that death was an unwelcome guest that didn’t always stick to schedule. They would grieve but they would let him go. They would move on.

But Joseph… Ben fought to keep his eyes open, despite the wind, despite the pain. He had to force himself to remember what he wished he could forget. The last time they’d spoken to each other, they had each been angry. To say they hadn’t parted on good terms was an understatement if ever there was one. Never let the sun go down on your anger. He’d raised his boys with that tenet, and yet he hadn’t followed it himself. 

Lately, things had not been easy with Joseph. He had been getting into trouble, fighting and drinking in town, and the girls he had chosen to keep company with… well, their unsuitability could go unmentioned. Adam and Hoss seemed to take it in stride. Claimed that Joe would come around. Rebellion had a time and place, and this was only a season. Ben wasn’t so sure. Joe hadn’t been coming around, as far as he could tell. In fact, the morning that Ben left for Salt Lake City, things between them had never been worse. 

The night before he was set to leave, Ben had caught his youngest son drinking rotgut with friends behind the Virginia City livery. It had been a long hard night of buying supplies for the trip and making last minute arrangements, and Ben was already exhausted. He’d wanted nothing more than to ride home and climb into his own bed, but instead he had to deal with yet another of Joseph’s transgressions. Exhausted and infuriated, Ben had shouted more than he cared to remember. To his shock, Joe had yelled right back. It was the first time Ben remembered his son actually raising his voice to him. In a much quieter voice, Ben had ordered Joe to get his horse and ride home with him. 

Joe had glanced over his shoulder at his drunken friends. They were stock-still in the yellowed lamplight – when angered, Ben Cartwright was a formidable man. They, at least, had the common sense to be terrified.

“Go get your horse, Joseph.” Ben hated repeating himself, and he kept himself from clenching his fists by holding them loosely at his side.

But Joe gamely shrugged, turned back to his father, and said, “No, sir.”

It was as simple and complicated as that. Little Joe Cartwright wasn’t going home. Not that night. Joe tipped his hat to his pa, even with his jaw set in anger, and walked away down the alley.

It took every bit of self-control Ben possessed not to charge into the shadows after his boy, take him hard by the arm, and let loose with threats, the likes of which Virginia City had never seen. He was certainly capable of overcoming his slightly built son. He could force him onto that horse. He could make him ride home. But it was never that simple, was it? 

“Don’t leave it like this, Joe,” Ben had called after him. It was not quite a threat, not even a warning. But Joe didn’t look back. Ben never intended those to be his last words to his son. 

Deeply troubled, Ben rode home by himself, half believing that Joseph would have snuck back to his horse, ridden home fast, and made it back to the ranch before him. But the pinto’s stall was empty; Joe had made good of his promise. He wasn’t coming home. No sir, he had said. Ben was supposed to leave in the morning for Utah. The trip had been planned for weeks. It was an important contract for the Ponderosa. The buyer in Salt Lake City was still unsure about the deal and wanted a face-to-face meeting before he signed. Ben couldn’t afford any delay. Quietly, Ben stood in front of Joe’s darkened bedroom. Thinking. Deciding. 

“You need to go.” 

Ben had startled at Adam’s quiet voice. He’d come up so quietly. Ben had figured his oldest son had already gone to bed.

“He didn’t come home,” Ben said unnecessarily. Any fool could see that Joseph’s room was empty.

“He will,” Adam said calmly. “He always does.”

“He’s never stayed out all night before. Not like this.”

Hoss’s door creaked open, and Hoss sidled into the hall, still rubbing his bleary eyes.

“Little Joe ain’t back yet?” he mumbled, in the middle of a yawn.

Ben sighed and leaned against the doorway. He was so tired, so very, very tired. He didn’t know what to do. He supposed he should ride back into town and haul Joseph home. Why did being this boy’s father have to be so difficult? 

“I found him in town. He’d been drinking, and I told him to get on home. He said he wasn’t going to come home, and he stormed off.”

“At least he’s a man of his word,” Adam cracked with a sidelong glance at Hoss, and Ben felt his temper rile up again.

“I’m glad you think this is amusing,” he glowered at his son.

“I don’t, Pa,” Adam drawled, and put an arm around his father’s shoulders. “And it isn’t. But it will be all right. Pa, you need to get some sleep and leave in the morning, just like you planned. Don’t worry about Joe.”

Leaning against the doorway, Hoss nodded. “We’ll go on and find Little Joe in the morning. Don’t you worry none, Pa. You get some shut-eye. Me and Adam can take care of Little Joe.”

With another sigh, Ben looked hard at Adam and nodded. Perhaps, he was too old for this. “I am tired. Sometimes, I think your younger brother is going to be the death of me.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll kill him off ourselves before that happens.” Adam nudged Hoss in the ribs with his elbow, and they both grinned at each other, shaking their heads. It was easier to be a big brother than a father.

For some reason, for the first time since he’d fought with Joseph, Ben felt himself relax. He took a deep breath and shook his head. There were things within his control, things outside of it, and Joseph was everything in between. The trouble between them could wait a week or two to sort itself out. Adam and Hoss would take care of their little brother until then. As for Ben, perhaps he needed some time alone to gain some perspective. If this was a season, it was a hard one. Maybe it would be a good idea for he and Joseph to give each other time to simmer down…

“All right, I’ll go,” Ben said, “but you have my permission to hog-tie your younger brother until I get back, if necessary.”

“Only if necessary,” Adam said with a smile.

And they left it at that. And things would likely have been just fine, had everything gone as planned. But two armed bandits had been enough to take his plans and nearly heave them off the face of this earth. 

Ben opened his eyes. The pain was back again, but the sun was nearly set. Night again. He had to find the strength to roll over.

“Got to make it to the road,” he heard himself say, although the voice certainly did not sound like his own. Little by little, inexorably slowly, Ben pushed himself to his hands and knees. And he started to crawl. 

It was the smallest movement possible, but then again, it was the small things that mattered. The smell of coffee in the morning. Sweat and hard work – a job well done. Breaking bread together at supper, a son’s remembered smile. The way Hoss turned bright red when he was embarrassed, and the way Adam and Joe liked to embarrass him as often as possible, just to see it happen again.

Ben kept crawling. It was a small thing, but it was something he could do. His work wasn’t finished. If he died, Adam and Hoss would surely manage. They would take Joseph in hand, denying themselves what they needed to. Adam and Hoss would handle the Ponderosa – make decent lives for themselves and for others. They were good men.

Joe, on the other hand, might not get over it. He might never forgive his father for leaving him without the chance to work things out. At sixteen, this kind of ending would be too much to bear. No sir. Ben had forgiven his son those words before he’d made it half way home, but Joe wouldn’t know that. It took a lot of life experience to take grace for what it was. Two drunken words could never come between them. Joe was going to grow up to be a good man – he was sure of it. Ben wasn’t about to let his death get in the way. He needed more time to teach his boy how to be forgiven.

Ben was almost to the road. He didn’t know if he would make it, but he kept crawling anyway. He was working hard to hear over the sound of the wind through the canyon, so he could answer his boys when they called for him.

********

They found him on the side of the road. Hoss didn’t think he could be alive, just a shadow of the man he’d been when he left for his trip just a couple weeks earlier. Adam practically fell out of his saddle, collapsed to his knees, before resting his hand on his father’s heart.

“He’s alive,” Adam breathed.

Hoss started to cry, something he hadn’t done since he was a boy. He dropped beside his brother. Placed his hand on his father’s chest. Nobody could convince Hoss that his pa was still breathing until he felt it for himself.

Joyfully, Hoss turned and said, “It’s true, Little Joe. It’s all right. Pa’s all right. Come here now. See for yourself.”

But Joe didn’t come down from his saddle. Surely, he was lost for good. Pale and terrified, Joe shook his head. He would never forget the long days of searching the road. The dust in his throat. The unbearable knowledge that things might never be all right again. Joe could still taste the bitterness of his brothers’ quiet assurance that they would find him. That everything would be all right. Then there was the moment they found Pa’s half-starved horse, living off mesquite and chaparral… Joe wasn’t sure he would ever get over that.

Joe wasn’t a man. He wasn’t good enough to come alongside his brothers. How could he ever expect to be forgiven? Every treasure he’d been hoarding for himself meant nothing compared to this. His pa was alive. What more could he hope to ask for?

But Ben opened his eyes. Found Adam first, then Hoss. Struggled to talk, and Adam tucked his hand behind his pa’s neck and held up his head. Touched the canteen to his lips. Release like cool water flowing over and down….

“About time,” Ben whispered after he’d had enough, and he tried to smile, but it was hard. “I’ve been waiting on you boys forever.” 

“Easy, now,” Adam said, the words catching in his throat. 

Hoss reached to touch his pa’s ravaged face. “We’ll have you home in no time, Pa.”

“Joseph?” Ben called out, almost desert blind, but his boys moved aside, until he could see his youngest son still hunched in the saddle, unable to meet his eyes. Joe was crying.

“Come here, Joe,” Adam called over his shoulder. “Pa wants you.”

It wasn’t a request. It was an order, and Joe swung down from the saddle. Ben wasn’t surprised. It was apparent that his faith in his oldest sons hadn’t been misplaced. Adam was in control, and Hoss was backing him. If they’d had to live the rest of their lives without him, they’d have been just fine.

But Joe was kneeling between his brothers. They were keeping him upright, and he had a lot to learn, but there was time. Joe reached out his hand, and Ben caught it. 

Before his youngest son could say a word, his pa whispered, “I know, Joseph. I already know.”

The End