Summary: This story is a spin off from an episode called The Tall Stranger in which Hoss proposed to Margie Owens and lost out to Mark Connors, who married Margie and then dumped her. Hoss found Margie just before she died in childbirth.

In this story Hoss is battling the worse misery of his life as he struggles to overcome a broken heart with no hope of ever seeing Margie again. He has to suffer physical anguish, and experience other peoples direst heartache, before he can bury the past and get on with his life, find happiness and return home to his family.

Rating:  T  (21,580 words)

And Afterwards

“Is there anything wrong?”

Erik Hoss Cartwright looked up and stared blankly at the pleasant face of young David Riley and blinked rather rapidly.   He shook his head and mumbled his thanks as he turned to leave the Telegraph Office. He folded the telegram he had collected into his shirt pocket and hurried down the sidewalk towards Chubb, who was slurping up some water from the trough outside Cass’ General Store. The black horse turned obediently away and allowed his rider to take him from the town and head for the open spaces of the Ponderosa.

He did not hurry. He rode slowly but not leisurely. His mind was not on leisure. However, he did not want to quicken the pace of his ride, he just wanted to go slow. He was not even sure where he wanted to ride except that, if he could have a wish granted, it would have been backwards in time.

The sun beat down upon a parched earth. The trees boughs hung as though weary of the leaves that clung on resolutely despite the heat. When Hoss raised his head and scanned the horizon to get his bearings, he could see the heat haze shimmering into the distance. He only took off his hat and wiped his sweating brow upon his sleeve and then gently urged his horse forwards. It was as though the whole earth was dying about him in the heat. Dust rose in soft clouds around Chubbs hooves as he made his way through what was usually verdant and lush, covered in wild flowers and sweetly scented.

Hoss felt the heat but did not replace his hat. He could only think about the words in the telegram, and the memories that they evoked. He paused once again.  No, not memories, more like ghosts.

He rode on a little faster, knowing now where he wanted to go, where he wanted to be.  The only place that, at this moment, could afford him a little ease and comfort from the misery that was deep in his heart like some gangrenous wound, eating away at him, shutting the real self away from the happiness of living he had so much enjoyed.

 

On the level piece of ground by Rocking Chair butte was Margie Owens grave. Little Margie whom he had loved and wanted for his wife. Little Margie who had longed to see the big wide wide world but had never gone beyond San Francisco. This was where the family had planned to build their home, Hoss and Margie Cartwrights. Instead it had become her final resting place and the name on the headstone was Margie Connors.

He left Chubb searching for some dry tufts to eat while he walked, hat in hand, very slowly towards the grave. Standing there, his head bowed, his mind drifted back to when he had brought her body, and her child, home to her father. He remembered how George Owens had wept in his arms, and how he had wept too, bitterly.  Ben had taken the baby and left the two men standing by the coffin, too distressed over their loss to care for the comfort of the little infant at that time.

But it had all worked out in the end, or so they had thought at the time. George had insisted that Margie should sleep overlooking the beautiful valley on the Ponderosa. As he had explained to them, his own life would shortly be over, it would not be fair to leave Margie so soon. The child he adopted, so that Connors would never be able to claim her and take her from him or the Owens family. Provision was made for her care with Hoss being assured that he would always have a major role in her life, as he had once shared in that of her mothers.

Hoss shivered and forced himself back to the present and he took a deep breath and took a thoughtful look at the grave. No flowers grew there, the sun had parched the land so much that nothing could blossom, not even the grass. He pushed his fingers through his hair and shook his head

“Wal, Margie, sun’s so hot I couldn’t even get to brung you any flowers and there ain’t none growin’ roundabouts.” He leaned forward and touched the headstone “Fact is, I brung you some news,” he pulled the telegram from his pocket and smoothed out the paper and squinted to read it. The suns glare on the white paper struck his eyes and he moved it into some shade “Your pa has decided to stay in Sacremento with Lucy. Reckons things are better there for her and his neice and nephew in law want to care for her. Mark Connors died, y’know. Someone from the past finally caught up with him, I guess. Leastways we don’t need to worry ‘bout him ever sniffin’ ‘round little Lucy.” He wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand and thrust the paper back into his pocket. “Wish you coulda seen her.  Last time I saw her was ten days backawhile.  She was like a little doll. Shucks, Margie, she looked jest like you musta when you were kneehigh to a prairie dog. Your pa is so proud of her.    Margie…” his large hand rested gently on the headstone, as gently as though he were just then caressing her silver blond hair.

He took a deep gulp and swallowed the thick lump of tears that hung in the back of his throat,

“Remember what I said, when you were getting married?  Aw, shucks, Margie, you looked so, so, beautiful. I said ‘Margie, you’re the prettiest girl in the world, you look fine. You look happy. I hope it’s like that for you, always,” he covered his face with his hand and took a shuddering breath “Margie, I wanted to say, you’re too beautiful, too fragile, to go with the likes of Mark Connors, and I wanted to snatch you away from him, there and then.  I so wanted you to be happy forever, and I wanted to be happy forever with you too.”

Abruptly he turned away from the grave and walked hurridly to where Chubb stood grazing on the stubble hard ground. He mounted the horse, and directed him to the Mill Road where his brothers would be waiting for him.

Never in all his life had he felt so bereft. It ate into the very fibre of his being so that he felt himself out of control of his own life, even of his own self. Now, as he rode away from Margie’s graveside, he thought again about George Owens telegram and felt a wave of self reproach sweep over him.

…………………….

“Well, what time do you call this?” Joe stopped his work and turned to survey his brother as Hoss galloped towards them.

It was obvious to anyone that the two men had been working long and hard. New fence posts were lined up and placed in position.   Holes had been dug out and posts dug in. Both of them were drenched with perspiration, and had long discarded their shirts which had become limp rags within the first hour of commencing work. Adam wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and passed it round his face and neck, before stooping down to pick up a water canteen.  He took a long gulp at it. He then passed it to his younger brother, who glared at Hoss as he passed him to take the canteen and drink from it.

“Sorry. I intended being here earlier, but -,” Hoss mumbled something under his breath and was interrupted by the younger man

“Intentions don’t get fence posts replaced, brother. If you had been here on time this would have been finished by now. I doubt if we will get it done before nightfall at this rate.”

“Quit yammering, Joe. I said I’m here now, so let’s get on with the job, if that’s what you’re bellyaching about,” Hoss picked up the heavy mallet and swung it up into the right position for use on the job.

“Quit yammering, huh? And who are you to tell me what to do, huh?” Joe strode up to his brother and glared at him, his face not only red from the heat and work, but from pent up irritation and frustration at this once amiable brother who had suddenly cut himself off from them all.

“Joe.” Adam stepped forward, making a cautionary movement with his hand to his youngest brother, a gesture to warn him to cool down and say nothing. “Do as Hoss says, and get on with the job, will you?”

Joe opened his mouth in protest, then shrugged and hauled up the next post to be hammered into place. Adam looked at Hoss, and saw the set line of his mouth and the sorrowful look in the blue eyes. Inwardly, he groaned aloud. His inability to help his brother over the past few months had left him feeling frustrated and sad, angry at himself and even angrier at Hoss. He felt as though there were a great void growing, like a chasm, between them and he just could not find the right means to draw it together again. He tried to catch his brother’s eye and give him a conciliatory smile, but Hoss avoided eye contact, something he had become adept at doing over the weeks since Margie’s death.

“Hold it steady, Adam.” Hoss said in a gruff voice.

“We do know how to do the job, you know.” Joe vented his frustration verbally.  He glowered at Hoss as the big man raised the hammer high “What I don’t understand is….ADAM!”

His yell, not quite a scream, was too late. Adam toppled sideways and fell heavily to the ground before rolling over onto his back. He gave a groan of agony and a sigh.   He was quite unconscious by the time both of them reached his side.

“You idiot!” Joe screamed at his brother “You’ve killed him.”

“Don’t talk that way, Joe, I never, I could never…” Hoss fell on his knees by his brothers side and saw too clearly where the sweep of the mallet had struck against his brothers body. “Adam? Adam?” he leaned forward and looked into his brother’s still face and swallowed back a tumult of emotions. Fear and horror were uppermost.

“I think he managed to sidestep in time to avoid the worse.” Joe whispered, passing Hoss the water canteen which his brother now used to bathe Adam’s face.

“He must have done.” Hoss said quietly “If he had not he’d be in a far worse state than this.” He bit his bottom lip to stop it trembling and then looked up at Joe who was shaking from shock “Joe, I didn’t even see him. I was so mad at you that I – I didn’t look to see where he was – I could have killed him, Joe. I could have killed Adam.”

************

Paul Martin entered the room where Adam lay and looked over at Ben and his other two sons and then walked over to the bed and looked at his patient.

“How long has he been unconscious?” he asked as he unclasped the fastener to his medical bag.

“Over two hours,” Ben said quietly.

Paul raised his eye brows and said nothing but as he began his examination Ben indicated to Joe and Hoss that it would be better if they were to leave the room. Joe excused himself and chose to go to his own room, refusing to even look in Hoss’ direction which was like a stab of a sword to the tender hearted man.  Hoss looked so forlorn that Bens own heart ached for him.

Once downstairs Hoss sat down and buried his face in his hands. If he had been feeling miserable earlier that day, it could not be compared to the misery he felt now. He glanced up at his father and then, unable to face the tender compassion on his fathers face, looked down at the floor.

“I could have killed him, Pa.”  It was a simple statement of fact, a truth.

“But you didn’t, son.” Ben’s voice was very low, very gentle and tender. He reached out a hand and clasped it over those of his son “Hoss, don’t punish yourself over this. It was an accident and on a working ranch accidents happen.”

“No need to make excuses for me, Pa. I know it was my fault and ain’t no one else to blame but me. Fact is, I had my mind on other things and I weren’t payin’ proper attention and I jest swung that mallet down in temper more’n anything else.”

“Well, can’t you tell me what it was that you had on your mind that distracted you so much?”

“I got this – from George Owens,” and he pulled out the telegram and passed it over to his father “He’s took Lucy to Sacremento, and he ain’t coming back.”

“That’s his right, Hoss,”  Ben said gently, as he slowly opened the telegram.

“But he promised that I could share in caring for her, Pa.”

“Hoss,” Ben stood up and surveyed his son sadly “Hoss, George is a dying man. He hasn’t much time to live now. He had to make the right kind of provisions for Lucy, a proper family for her. She was never yours to claim any rights to, you know that, don’t you?”

“But he took her away, Pa. He’s gone, she’s gone..jest like Margie…I jest weren’t good enough, not smart enough, not nuthin’”

“Why’d you say that, Hoss? You know that’s not true?” he sat down by his sons side and placed his arm about his shoulders. It was true that Hoss did not have Adam’s intelligence, nor Joe’s quicksilver instincts and charm, but Hoss did possess qualities that niether of them possessed. Qualities that drew many to love, respect and admire him for the man that he was;  and one of the qualities had been his good humoured humility, the ability to like himself and love everyone else about him. But it seemed that had changed, and changed drastically.

“It jest is though, Pa.  It is.” he looked at his father.  He swallowed the tears and shook his head “Pa, I always loved Margie, and I thought she loved me. Then Connors came along and heck, I ain’t never done nuthin’ like what he done. She jest saw me as a bumbling cowhand with no more sense in his head than a mavarick calf.” he shook his head from side to side, “Pa, I knew Margie nearly all her life, yet she knew him hardly anytime and didn’t want to know me anymore.”

For a moment Ben looked hard at his son, wondering what he could say that could sweep away all the pain of these past few months. Was it just rejection that was causing this strange introspective mood over his middle sons normal optimism, or was it something deeper? He gently patted his son on the hand several times before answering,

“Hoss, imagine a meadow full of spring flowers? All different kinds of flowers, all different colours and shapes.  They all  enjoy the warmth of a summers day. Well, in a way you and Margie were like that, basking together contentedly until,” he paused and looked at Hoss who was staring at him with much the same look on his face as he once had as a child and Ben would tell him stories about his voyages at sea “something happens to change the pattern of things. One of those flowers looks up to the sky at night and sees the stars and the moon. Suddenly being a flower in a field isn’t enough, because the stars and the moon are more beautiful and …and that flower kinda forgets to look down again, it just keeps looking up at the stars and wishing …”

Ben stopped talking and looked at Hoss sadly.  Hoss turned his face away and stared at the floor and thought of what a beautiful flower Margie had been

“Pa, when she chose to go with him, I thought my heart was broken. I had to go away and try and get all my feelin’s back like they should be, because all I ever wanted was for her to be happy and so I figgured that if she wanted to go and see the big wide world, with him, so long as she was happy. Then,  one day she would come back and I would see her again, even jest as friends. So long as she was happy.” A tear rolled slowly down his face and dripped forlornly from his chin, “But then she died. She was all alone there in that hospital and so frightened and so sad. I can never get her back, Pa, and I feel so..I feel so…” he thumped his chest with his fists “Here, in here,I feel so ANGRY, Pa.   I jest can’t explain or put it into fancy words like Adam would, or Joe, but I can’t get out of feeling any different.”

“Don’t you think I understand, son? After all …”

“I know, I know, Pa.” Hoss frowned and looked at Ben with his blue eyes very pale and cold “I know you had your losses, Pa. You said that time would heal.  But how long a time does it have to be?”

“That depends on you, Hoss.” Ben glanced up as he heard a door close and the sound of the doctors footsteps on the stairs. He gave Hoss a gentle slap on the back and stood up, to face the worse. Hoss, by his side, stood up also, thrust out his chin and felt his heart hammering against his ribs.

“He’s regained consciousness, Ben. He’ll be alright. Several broken ribs and severe bruising. Had it been on the other side, where the heart is, the blow would have killed him stone dead for sure.” The doctor looked at Hoss and frowned “You were both lucky today, Hoss”

“I know.” Hoss mumbled, unable to look Paul in the face he bowed his head and stared at the rug.

“If there is anything I can do to help, Hoss, you will let me know, won’t you?”

Hoss said nothing, but looked away and while his father led the doctor to the door, he very quietly mounted the stairs to Adams room.

Adam looked as though he had drunk the town drunkard under the table and was still suffering the after effects. Paul had bound up the ribs tightly and given his patient a strong sedative.  When Hoss came into the room and saw Adam propped up in bed doing a fair imitation of an Eygptian mummy he could have wept.

“I’m sorry, Adam, I didn’t mean to do it.” he mumbled in much the same manner he would have done years before as a small boy guilty of some misdemeanour or other.

“I’m really glad to hear it, Hoss. If I thought for a moment that you meant it,” Adam forced a smile to his lips and extended his hand, which Hoss took firmly between his own and shook gently “It was my fault as much as anyone’s, Hoss. Don’t blame yourself, will you?”

“Can’t bame anyone else, Adam, it was my fault, don’t bother tryin’ to pretend it wasn’t.”

“I’m not, Hoss, I saw that your mind was not on the job and should have suggested time to cool down or do something else. But I wanted to get the job done as soon as possible and I was tired of – ,” he paused, unsure  whether to mention Joe and Hoss being at odds with one another. He closed his eyes “Anyway, it isn’t as bad as it looks. I’ll be alright, Hoss, don’t worry.” He tightened his grip on his brother’s hand and wished that he could ease the burden that now weighed even more heavily upon his brother’s heart and conscience. He wanted to say more but his eyes were closing involuntarily, and before Hoss had reached the door and closed it behind him, Adam was sound asleep.

As he left his brothers room the door opposite opened, and Joe stepped out of his room. He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands on the back of his pants, as he did whenever he was nervous about anything.

“Hoss, I’m sorry.” he murmered, holding out a hand to his brother and looking up into his brother’s face “It was my fault. I should have realised you had a good reason for being late. I should never have given you such a hard time. Will you forgive me, Hoss?”

“There ain’t nuthin’ to forgive you fer, Joe.” Hoss replied with his blue eyes filling with tears and he took the youths hand in his own and gripped it tightly. “Joe, Adam doesn’t look good. If he dies, I’ll never fergive myself.”

“There’s no reason to think he’s dying, Hoss.” Joe exclaimed in horror, and his hazel eyes widened in a face already much paler than usual. The freckles that were scattered over the bridge of his nose seemed to stand out more against the pallor of his skin.

“It was my fault, Joe.” Without another word Hoss walked hurridly to his own room and closed the door.

 

The heat of the day wrapped itself around the house like a boa constrictor tightening its hold on its victim, coil upon coil, and tighter and tighter. In his room Adam groaned for water, for the windows to be opened, for air to cool him. He begged them to take away the bandages as the sweat rolled from him and it was obvious by nightfall that he was beginning to sink into fever and delirium.

In hs own room Hoss stood by the window and stared out at the night where no breath of a wind or breeze could be felt. He could hear his brothers’ feverish groans and Ben’s quiet, deep voice intermittently comforting the sick man. It was more than Hoss could bear.  He repeatedly put his hands to his face and prayed that help would come in some way, and with that help, there would be a healing and a forgiveness.

On the horizon a sudden flash of light streaked across the heavens and lit up the land. Hoss waited.   There had to be a clash of thunder and then, please God, rain! He heard only Joe’s footsteps across the landing and the door to Adam’s room opening.

“Pa, there’s an electric storm.”

“Get Hoss,” Ben replied, standing up to follow Joe from the room and down the stairs to the main room, knowing that Hoss would not be long in joining them. Indeed, he was not, for he was so close behind Joe that he almost tripped over his brother’s feet.

“Hoss, Joe, you’ll have to ride out to the camp.   Get the men rustled up and out to the timber yards. Hoss, take the east section, and patrol that area where we have the five year old saplings, and Joe, check over the west section ,” he paused and glanced upstairs.   Both his sons knew that the big man was wrestling over what was of chief concern at this moment, his eldest son or the timber.

“Pa, I’ll stay with Adam,” Hoss said gently, pausing in the very act of buckling on his gunbelt.

“No, that won’t be necessary. I need you on the east section. We’ve had such a prolonged dry spell that if lightning were to strike now there would be such a fire I doubt if even our two hundred men could control it. Just go out there and do everything you can.” He glanced at them both and forced a grim smile and nodded his head “Well, you had better get along. I’ll join you as soon as I can. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

He watched them go with a sinking feeling in his heart. Joe was so young and impetuous but he knew how to handle himself on occasions such as this.  Hoss was an expert and he could vouch for every man they had.  All the same he would have preferred to have gone along with them. He could hear the horses riding from the yard and turned to go back to Adams room when he saw Hop Sing coming towards him, his pig tail bouncing as he hurried with his shuffling trotting gait towards him,

“You not go with boys to see to timber, Mr Catlight?”

“I’m too worried about Adam, Hop Sing, I can’t leave him.”

“Why I here? I here to help. You go now. I look after Mr. Adam and you no worry about him no more. You best go now with Mr. Hoss and Mr. Joseph.”

Ben was torn as he glanced once more up towards where his sick son lay, and thought of the dangers his other sons could be riding into should there be a forest fire. He took a deep breath and shook his head,

“No, Hop Sing, I’ll sit with Adam. Make some coffee, would you?” he took another deep breath and walked towards the stairs.

 

Hoss and Joe were good at their jobs, he could trust them and timber, well, all the trees in the world would never be of as much value as the life of any one of his sons.

********

“Take the bandages off, Pa …it’s hot…too hot..”

“I know, son. It won’t be for much longer.” Ben leaned forward and wiped the wet cloth around his sons face and throat.   He looked down at him thoughtfully. If anything happened, he wondered, to Adam, what would it do to Hoss? It would be bad enough in the normal course of events, but right now when Hoss was already at such a low emotional ebb.

 

He walked over to the window and stared out and thought of his tender hearted mountain of a son. There was no doubt that Hoss was suffering and now, if anything were to happen to Adam?  Ben hung his head, closed his eyes and realised that he was tired, very tired.  It seemed as though all of them were poised on some kind of precipice the like of which he had never before encountered . He had prayed so much during the night that now his head ached from words that suddenly had become meaningless because he had uttered them so often. They were swirling round and round like a verbal kaleidascope.

A deep throated roar and crash followed the streak of lightning that blazed momentarily before him. He turned at the sound of movement from the bed and saw Adam struggling to sit up, rather drunkenly, and rushed over to grab him as he lurched sideways.

“Thunder, Pa.  A storm, got to go now.”  Adam groaned and swayed on the side of the bed.

“You’re not going anywhere, young man, except back into bed.”

“The timber.”

“Hoss and Joe are taking care of that so just settle back now. That’s right. Just settle back, there’s nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about,” he paused as a gentle sound reached his ears and he realised that it was the soft patter of rain upon the windows.  He closed his eyes with relief and looked down at his son “It’s raining, Adam.”

“Better get inside, don’t get wet.” Adam mumbled before jerking back into unconsciousness.

………………..

“Pa? Can I talk to you?”

Ben glanced up and frowned as Hoss appeared before him. Outside the rain still fell and the air now was cool and pleasant at last. Soon grass and flowers would grow again and water holes would fill up from the underground springs. The timber was safe. The cattle would find grass upon which to graze again.  Upstairs, thankfully, Adam was sleeping a healthy deep sleep.

But there was still Hoss and he stood now before his fathers desk with his round face pale and resolute and his blue eyes dark and red rimmed.

“It’s alright, Hoss, Adams going to be fine now. There’s nothing to worry about.” Ben said quietly, forcing a smile and longing to put his head down on a pillow and have a good sleep himself.

“I know that, Pa. I just stepped in to see him and he looks like he’ll be fine. But I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“Something else? What is it, Hoss? What do you want to say?”

Hoss licked his lips and then chewed them a little. He shuffled his feet and then looked appealingly at his father, before taking a deep breath,

“Pa, I need to leave the Ponderosa.”

“You want to leave the Ponderosa?” Ben sat upright, his near black eyes wide and startled and his dark eyebrows nearly disappeared altogether “But why, son?”

“I don’t mean leaving for good, Pa. I jest need to go for a little while.”

“How long is a little while, Hoss?”

“I don’t know, Pa. Mebbe a month, or two.”

They stared at one another, both wanting to find the words to say everything and change everything.   But no words came to mind and eventually Ben stood up and rubbed the back of his neck. He shook his head and sighed,

“Hoss, is it this thing with Margie still? Is that what is eating into you?”

“Mebbe. I ain’t sure what it is anymore. I jest needs to go and find out I guess.”

“You went away before, when she decided to marry Connors.”

“Yeah, but then there was always the thought that she might come back, with or without him, and we would still be friends.  Now she ain’t never gonna come back, Pa, never.  And I ain’t gonna be able to see Lucy either.” he frowned and shuffled his feet again, and bit his lip “It’s hard fer me to find the right words, Pa, but I jest gotta go.”

“Have you told Joe? Or Adam?” Ben enquired, as his mind raced for something to say that would prevent this gentle sad man from leaving them.

“I talked to Adam jest now, Pa.” Hoss replied honestly.

“And?”

“And he reckoned that I should go if I felt I needed to thet much.” Hoss’ face went a little pink as he recalled the few minutes he had spent with Adam. It had ended with a strong handshake which was some solace for them both.

“And Joe?”

“Cain’t you explain to him, Pa?” Hoss squirmed and looked uncomfortable.

“I can’t explain what I don’t fully understand myself, Hoss.”

“Please, Pa?”

Ben nodded and walked up to his son and embraced him tightly

“Don’t take too long about coming home, Hoss.”

Hoss said nothing to that request. He had no definite idea as to where exactly he was going to go but he knew that he had to put some distance between himself, his family and these things that he loved. He felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest and that now was the time to find it, heal it and then come home a whole man once again  .

 

***********

The stagecoach tumbled along at a fair pace.   The six horses were already lathered and sweating.  Pete, the driver, cursed and complained volubly whilst his companion, riding shot gun, bore the brunt of his complaints without a word, although his jaw moved faster as he chewed on his wad of tobacco, a stream of yellow juice being spat out regularly towards the horses’ rumps

Inside the stage coach and getting well jolted as well as liberally covered in dust, sat several uncomplaining, and the occasional complaining, passengers. Mr and Mrs Hanratty, were squashed together on one seat while a tall thin young man sat at ease at the end.

Mr and Mrs Hanratty obviously shared much in common. One of the things they enjoyed together was a passion for food and this was evidenced by the expanse of their individual girths and the numerous number of chins. Their bright little eyes were like bright beads set in dough. When they laughed or smiled these little beads seemed to disappear entirely in folds of flesh. Normally they would have been comfortably spread out on the seat but the tall thin man with the low slung gun belts made them change a habit of a life time and ‘squeeze up together’.

The reaons why the gun man had chosen to take possession of the seat with the Hanrattys and therefore ride in a certain amount of discomfort, was because he preferred to sit facing the young woman on the other seat. Cole Bowers was a mean thinking individual who enjoyed creating problems however innocent a situation. He travelled from new town to new town, to small settlement to sprawling metropolis, always leaving in a hurry because his mean little mind and his hard twisted heart had led to too hasty a use of his guns. He took out his guns now and laid them carefully on his knees.  With a slick slowness he  began to check them for no other reason than to cause the lady discomfort.  It also amused him to see the look of curiousity and delight on her sons face. He spun the bullet chambers and checked the safety catches. Then he took out a handkerchief and began to clean them, very slowly, as though a speck of dust would ruin their awesome beauty. Every so often he would glance over at the boy, who would smile back charmingly, his eyes fixed on the silver handled revolvers as though he had never seen the like before in his whole life.

Louisa Ford watched the view changing. It seemed as though the horses were crawling along and the constant refrain through her mind was, would this journey never come to an end.  She could sense that the man seated opposite her was dangerous in a reptilean way. Every so often he would edge his foot nearer to hers and just touch the hem of her skirt, or her own foot, and she would be forced to move away, but in a careful manner so as not to provoke any comment from him.

Laurie Ford thought Bowers looked every inch how the perfect gun man should look. The fact that he and his mother could well have been at the receiving end of this perfect gunman’s temper never crossed the boys mind. To be seated opposite such a dangerous man gave this tiresome journey an exciting edge to it and provided him with something to brag about to his school mates.

“Ma’am?” Cole Bowers leaned forward “If you don’t mind my saying so, but your having been on this trip along with me sure has made it a mighty pleasant ride. Did anyone tell you that you got the face of an angel?”

Louisa blushed, not because of the compliment, but because of its source. Laurie, sadly, turned to look at her with eyes and mouth open in amused silence. He looked over at Cole and grinned,

“Have you shot anyone with them guns?” he asked in his lilting young voice.

“More than you have had hot dinners” Cole boasted.

“Wow! In duels?”

“Not so many.” Cole said coldly. He looked at the woman and frowned “Does he always talk this much?”

Louisa put a restraining hand on her son’s arm, as though warning him to be careful. She turned her head and looked out of the window. How she wished that her husband had been there. She knew that a man like Bowers could well use her little boys youthful exuberance as an excuse for making trouble. Laurie was totally ignorant of the problems he was creating, however, and when the hard faced man glared balefully at him Laurie was naive enough to it as a compliment.

“Relay station ahead.”

Jake’s yell meant that Laurie had to stick his head out of the window to see for hmself and catch a faceful of grit, sand and dust as a result. He quickly stuck his head back inside again, and spluttered something about it being about half a mile yet.

“I must admit I am rather hungry myself,” Mrs Hanratty said with a slight smile, “No doubt you must be too, Mrs Ford?”

“Yes,” Louisa replied in her  quiet mid-Eastern voice..

“I’m starving.” Laurie admitted with remorseless honesty.

………………

The lone horseman rode slowly, and paused once to scan the horizon carefully. Some distance away a black shape lay upon the dry land, surrounding it were the scavangers of the skies, vultures.

He steered his horse through the boulders and kept a close scrutiny on the tracks that were scattered in the dust. Once or twice he paused and craned his head from side to side as though listening for some clarification of the signs he was seeing. When he finally reached the mound of flesh rotting in the sun he dismounted and with Chubbs reins in one hand he gingerly approached the sad remains of the dead beast. The vultures had fed well, but still begrudged sharing with this stranger to the feast. They were too well fed to fly but raised their wings and stalked backwards and forwards as though threatening the man to touch their repast.

Hoss spent some minutes scanning the area about the horse. The saddle and harness were still in position, though torn and bloodied now. He pushed his hat to the back of his head and scratched his neck thoughtfully. It was obvious that there had been some other reason for the creatures death and if he were not careful, he and Chubb could be next on the men.

…….

“Here we are, everyone.”

Pete clambered down from the hard seat of the stage coach and rubbed his hands together, whilst he walked towards the relay stations main house. Jake pulled the door open and let down the steps so that the passengers could alight to the ground. Laurie clambered down and turned to help his mother who was more than grateful for his assistance, having noticed that Bowers was hurrying to provide his services. The thought of touching the mans loathesome hand was more than she could have borne.

The door of the house opened and a tall, gangly woman with pale brown hair caught in a tidy knot at the nape of her neck, stepped out onto the verandah. She was wiping her hands on her apron and watching the passengers with the calculating eye of a housewife hopeful that she had sufficient in the way of provisions for her guests. She smiled and nodded at Pete and Jake, who asked her for the whereabouts of her husband.

“He rode out yesterday early, hasn’t been back since.”

She replied as though it were natural for a man to ride away from his woman and leave her to wile away the hours of his absence with nothing but the wilderness and coyotes to keep her company.

“Why’s that? He knows he should be here when there’s a stage passing through.” Jake replied with an irritated edge to his voice.

“He knows that, he’ll be back,” she replied and stepped to one side as the passengers came into the house.

After a momentary glance about to get their bearings in the shadows of the room into which they had stepped from out of the suns glare, the passengers began to take their seats at the table.

“Coffee’s in the pot, already brewed” she said and began to count out the mugs “Fact is,” she said quietly to Pete who lingered near the stove “there’s a mountain cat about the place. We saw its mark around the corral a few days ago and Lloyd said he was too close for comfort,” she cast a swift look over her shoulder at the passengers, “Anyhow, the next evening there was a right noise out there, so Lloyd went out and the cat had got one of the colts” she frowned and lifted the coffee pot up in one hand and a jug of milk in the other “So Lloyd said it wasn’t any good having a cat that size hanging around, next time it would be bolder and go for the other horses. Lloyds a good man, he’ll be back.”

“If he isn’t back by evening, we had better go and see if we can find him ourselves. Never can tell with mountain cats. Big one did you say?”

“By the look of its paw print Lloyd said it was one of the biggest he had ever seen. Probably young and feisty as well.” She frowned “No point in saying anything to the passengers, the ladies may get scared and panic a mite!”

“I’ll go and look outside.” Pete said quietly, and as he passed the shot gun rider, Jake, Pete signalled to him to join him.

“What’s going on?” Bowers asked

“Nothing to worry about.” Mrs Muller said, and she set down the coffee and milk, and returned again to the table with the mugs “There may be a slight delay though, my man isn’t here to hitch up.”

“Is there anything to eat here?” Hanratty asked “Only my wife is quite faint from hunger.”

“I’ve a good meal ready. Shouldn’t be long.” Mrs Muller replied without even looking at the speaker, “And I’ve some doughnuts.”

“Doughnuts!” Laurie exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear “Great!”

“I’m partial to doughnuts myself.” Hanratty muttered.

………………………Chapter 5

 

Hoss Cartwright searched the dry ground and eventually found the marks for which he was searching. He slowly followed them, leading Chubb behind him, as he did so the vultures screeched their way back to their grisly feast.

 

He followed the tracks into the boulders, the tracks of an obviously frightened man, for they were scuffed and disordered and here and there a hand print emerged indicating that several times in his haste to get to the safety of the boulders he had slipped. Just occasionally the large paw print of the cat was seen.

 

“Blood.” he murmered to himself as the scarlet splash revealed itself on the rocks. He stood erect and shading his eyes scanned the rocks and boulders but everywhere was silent and the sun beat down upon him mercilessly.

 

*************

 

Lloyd Muller sensed, rather than saw, the approach of the man as he scrambled carefully over the boulders to reach where he had hidden away for safety from the wild cats yellow eyes. His first sight of her had been when she had suddenly, horrificially, reared into view from the rocks as he had ridden beneath them. The horse had shrieked in fear, but the cat had out run him, and thrown herself at the poor creatures neck, hauling the horse and rider down onto the ground. Lloyd had lain momentarily stunned whilst the battle between the animals had been fought in a cloud of dust and with terrible shrieks and snarls only inches from him.

He had scrambled then to his feet and only realised, as he sought to flee to some safety, that the cat had clawed his leg when she had hurled herself at the horse. As the realisation of the pain surged through his body and the endomorphines sought to combat the pain, and adrenalin urged him to flee onwards, Lloyd had the presence of mind to grab at his rifle that had fallen close to hand.  Growing weaker by the second, he had staggered to the ridges of boulders that rose and fell ahead of him.

He had fired the fatal shot to kill the horse and spare it further pain. The cat had skipped back then, as though suddenly made aware of his presence.After a baleful glare of her golden eyes and a low throated roar, she had then fallen back onto the animal and commenced her blood soaked meal.

 

He had fired several shots at her. One had touched her on the foot and sent her snarling and spitting in the air, to land gracefully, but in pain, some feet from the horse. She had looked, with her large beautiful malevolent eyes towards him and had stared at him. Her eyes were fixated upon the white terrified face of the human that had inflicted pain upon her.

 

She, beautiful in her prime, magnificent in her power,felt the urgent desire to kill her enemy. Instinct however sent her a more cautious message and she slunk back onto her haunches, her tail sweeping back and forth in pain and fury. It was the pain that had to be assauged first. She could smell the human’s fear and knew that when she returned, he would still be there.  It would be his fear, not her,  that would destroy him.

 

Lloyd had not been sure what to do next. His leg was burning from his wounds and the blood seeping through his clothes. Fear fought panic which in itself battled with shock and pain. Combined together they eventually drove him into unconsciousness. He awoke but did not dare to open his eyes even as he heard the man approaching him and a hand touched his arm. He felt the water touch his lips and drank, but his greatest fear was that when he opened his eyes he would find himself staring into the brilliant golden yellow eyes of the cat.

 

Hoss poured water onto a cloth and attempted to staunch the blood that seeped from the jagged flesh of the mans injured leg. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, mister,” he murmured.

 

“The cat attacked us.” Lloyd whispered, clinging now to the strong hands that held him up and supported him “I wounded it, but it could be anywhere around here now.”

 

Hoss frowned.  The man’s eyes had flickered open and the white face was slick now with perspiration. He knew that the man would die if he had not the chance of some form of care. “Do you live far from here?”

 

“The relay station.” Lloyd whispered

 

Hoss frowned, he had not realised that there was a relay station this far east of Virginia City. He looked at the man again and leaned down as very gently he lifted him up into his arms, much like a father would lift a sleeping child from its bed. “How far is it?”

 

“Five miles due east of here” Lloyd groaned “The cat……”

 

“Best forget about the cat for now. The important thing is to get you home.” Hoss said very quietly and began to pick his way round the rocks back to Chubb. It took only a few minutes to get Lloyd into the saddle. Taking the reins in his hands, Hoss took the direction the man had indicated and began to walk the five miles to the relay station.

 

The trail that Lloyd had made the previous day was clear to follow and presented no problems. The difficulty of the journey was in the mans poor state of health.  Hoss found himself having to stop quite often to give him some water to drink, and to secure him more firmly in the saddle. Every time he stopped he looked about him nervously, anticipating the appearance of the wounded cat. It was as though the relay station masters fear of the beast had now transferred itself to his rescuer.

……….

********

 

Hanratty had fallen into a cat nap again.    His head and several chins wobbled up and down upon his chest. He yawned noisily and then settled back down into the rocking chair. The sun was sinking.  The warmth of the day was rapidly fading and the night promised to be a cold one. Mrs Muller was bringing in wood from the stock pile to keep the fires in the station house burning.

 

Mrs Ford sat by the fire and watched her son as he paced around the room, his face screwed up in a scowl of discontent. Boredom was Laurie’s greatest enemy and to be cooped up inside this building with his fellow passengers was totally undesirable. He glanced over at his mother and sighed his protest. She shook her head and smiled for there was nothing she could do to change  the situation.

 

“Pete said they were going to go and look for the station master, can I go too, ma?”  Laurie asked in a whine of a voice.

 

“No.”  came his mother’s stern reply.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I would prefer you to stay here. Mr Bowers is going with them, so it would be much more sensible for you to stay here.”  Louisea  gave the boy a stern look to emphasise that she meant what she said.

 

“But why?” he whined.

 

“Because, Laurie, there is a wild cat about and we shall need some protection here. You don’t think Mr Hanratty would be any help do you?”

 

“No,I guess not!” Laurie sulked.

 

Mrs Muller closed the door behind her and set down the wood near the hearth. She wiped her hands on her apron and then looked at the woman and her son. They were a handsome pair, she thought, and she envied them. Kathleen Muller assumed, wrongly, that Mrs Ford had never done a days work in her life and had never known what it was like to struggle against the odds with nothing but ones own physical strength to rely upon. That and one’s husbands. She sighed, wiped her hands again and walked to the kitchen area to prepare the evening meal. She thought of the time she had had a son too, but he had died of some sickness. They had been too poor to pay for the doctor, and she had sat by the cot and watched the child as he had struggled to live. Then, afterwards, Lloyd had suggested a move to the gold fields.    Then he was offered this job.  The salary was not much but they had a house provided, and a wagon with horses.  A steady wage, an honest job, and the wilderness all about them. It meant heat and cold, insects the like she had never seen before, coyotes and indians. She sighed and pulled up her sleeves

 

“Can I help?”

 

She turned and looked at the woman in her smart travelling dress and her blonde hair and blue eyes and shook her head resentfully.

 

“No, it’s alright, it’s my job,”  she replied brusquely.

 

“But you were not expecting us to stay so long, Mrs Muller, and you’re tired,” she smiled at the woman kindly “I’ve sent Laurie to chop up more wood so the least I can do is help prepare this meal. Shall I ask Mrs Hanratty to arrange the table?”

 

Mrs Muller reddened around the neck and nodded. She resented this womans interference, and her help.   Yet, she was honest enough to admit,that she would have resented her equally as much had she sat in her chair and done nothing.

 

“How long have you been here?” Mrs Ford asked as she donned a worn and faded apron.

 

“18 months now. It’s hard work but Lloyd is a good man. You can see that for yourself, his not being here, chasing after that cat!”

 

“Do you have any children, Mrs Muller?”  she picked up a knife and a potato.

 

“I had a son. He died of a sickness back in Brooklyn. This place is so different from Brooklyn. Sometimes I hate it.” She stabbed at a potato “Other times it’s so beautiful I hate it for being so beautiful.”

 

There was a sound of a door opening and mens feet on the boards. Pete came into the kitchen.

 

“There’s someone coming, walking, leading a horse. Looks like he’s found your husband, Mrs Muller.”

 

Mrs Muller’s face drained white and then was suffused with red as the blood rushed back. Was Lloyd dead and if he were, what would she do? She ran from the kitchen, wiping her hands frantically on her apron, her face a picture of misery with its sad trembling mouth and wobbling chin and the eyes misted with tears. Louisa followed.

 

It seemed everyone was crowding out, spilling out of the relay station and out to the yard where the mountain of a man finally came to a standstill in front of them.

 

“Hoss Cartwright!” Pete exclaimed “Dagburn it, boy, what you doing this far out of Virginia City?”

 

“Oh, nuthin’ much, Pete.     Jest brung this gent back home is all.” Hoss grinned although his face was wet with perspiration which rolled in beads down his red face and his shirt stuck to his flesh it was so wet. The five miles in the sun had been hard going for a man carrying so much weight as he did, and even the cooling air of approaching night had done little to refresh him.

 

Laurence Ford stepped out of the wood shed to see what the commotion was all about, and watched as the mountain sized man gently lifted the injured man from the saddle of the big black horse to place him into the arms of the other men who had rushed forward to help.

 

“Is he dead? Is he dead?” Mrs Muller sobbed, she held her apron close to her mouth and the tears spilled over, splashed down her cheeks as she watched Pete and Jake carry the man gently into the house.

 

From his position at the door of the wood shed Laurie watched as they took the man inside. He saw the awful blood stained garments and the lacerated flesh.  His stomach turned over in revolt. He looked at the face of the man who had stayed by his horse watching them take care of his charge.  He watched as his mother took Mrs Muller by the arm and led her into the house.  The woman’s sobs were suddenly cut short as the door closed.

 

Laurie walked over to the man who had led his horse to the water trough, “What happened to him?” he asked, his large eyes looked into the blue eyes of the young man who glanced back to the house and then looked thoughtfully down at him.

 

“Mountain cat got him. Killed his horse.” Hoss replied.   His blue eyes took in the boy. About 9 years old, he reckoned, sandy coloured hair and blue grey eyes, and all over with freckles. Hoss turned aside as a picture of another 9 year old flashed into his mind, that of a boy with unruly chestnut hair, big hazel eyes and all over with freckles and as full of curiousity as fit to burst, just like this young ‘un.

 

“Is he dead? He looked dead to me.”

 

“No.”   Hoss permitted a ghost of a smile to flit across his round face.   He stroked his horses neck and watched him drink from the water and then looked again at the boy “He isn’t dead, and he’ll be alright now he’s home. He’s quite strong really, he won’t die.”

 

“His leg looked……..all chewed up.” Laurie stared into the big man’s face, watching to see any change of expression that could embellish his words.  He had a child’s fascination with the things that scared him the most.

 

“Wal, I guess,” Hoss looked down at the ground and grimaced “It is.”

 

“Oh.” Laurie looked over at the door and wondered what was happening that he was missing out on. He looked at Hoss “I guess you’d like something to drink?”

 

“I would, thanks! Are you their son?”

 

“No, just one of the passengers.” He pointed to the vehicle with a jerk of his thumb “We’re going to Virginia City. My pa works there.”

 

“Who is we?”

 

“Me and my ma!” he replied with his eyes looking up into the blue eyes of this new hero.

 

Hoss opened his mouth and then quickly closed it again. He shook his head and followed the boy into the relay station.  He took off his hat when he entered the room and looked about him in the semi darkness. He saw a fat man fighting curiousity not too strenuously from the comfort of a rocking chair near a blazing fire.A plump woman with a cheap line of clothes and with a strange hat perched on top of bright ginger hair stood by his side.  The look on her face one of obvious distaste, horror and pity for she was wringing her hands anxiously as she listened to the sounds coming from the other room.

 

A tall thin man with a gunbelt slung low across narrow hips, dressed in a once fashionable well cut suit, lounged against the door frame.   His lean face now turned towards the newcomer as though the scene in the other room had passed his interest.  His reptilean eyes glanced rapidly over Hoss, and dismissed him immediately, to return to view a more attractive sight.

 

Hoss now saw a woman, the woman who had accompanied the wife of the injured man.  She was setting a coffee pot onto the stove, looked up and smiled at him and Laurie.

 

“I thought you would like some coffee.   You’ve had a long walk and look very tired and hot.”

 

“Thanks, ma’am.” Hoss blushed and then felt annoyed at himself for reddening up in front of the people there.   He glanced down at the floor self consciously and then walked over to the table to take the cup of coffee that she held out to him. “Thank you, ma’am.” he said again.

 

“Laurie, tell Pete that the gentleman who brought Mr Muller home is here now.” She smiled at her son and then looked at Hoss “There’s some supper, will you join us?”

 

“Thanks agin! I sure could do with some home cooking.” He grinned and pulled up a chair and realised that it was quite impossible not to smile back when this lady smiled. She was one of the prettiest women he had seen with blue eyes and blonde hair. She was tall and slender, probably about ten years older than himself. He watched her as she walked back to the kitchen and did not even realise that a certain other blue eyed blonde had not entered his mind.

 

Laurie whispered to Pete the message his mother had given him, and then chose to linger a little bit by the bedside of the injured man who was now being smothered to death by the caresses and hugs of his wife who was still sobbing, but now with relief. Laurie was enthralled at the sight of the injured leg and strove to see as much of the sight as he could, until he suddenly realised that perhaps the sight and smell were not as appealing as he thought for his stomach began to heave a little.  Supper had suddenly lost its appeal.

 

“Is he going to be alright?” he asked Pete, following behind the stagecoach driver to the other room.

 

“I think so.” Pete replied and he looked over at Hoss who was cradlling his mug of sweet coffee in his big hands “Where did you find him?”

 

“About five miles from here, up beyond the mesa,”  he glanced over at the gunman, still lounging against the doorframe and picking at his teeth with a toothpick. “He’s lost a lot of blood but the wounds aren’t as bad as they could have been.”

 

“Well, Hoss, I dunno what you’re doing so far from the Ponderosa, but you sure rode by at the right time for Muller, and there’s no mistake about that,” Pete hauled back a chair and sat down, taking a mug of coffee from Louisa with a nod of thanks “Folks, this here is Hoss Cartwright. His pa owns the biggest spread in Nevada, the Ponderosa.”

 

Everyone murmered some form of greeting, except Bowers, who merely narrowed his eyes and looked more keenly at the young man. They say opposites attract but in this instance Bowers saw instinctively all that was good about the younger man, and was repelled by it. His own mean nature recognised a man not only built generously, but of a generous nature, and his first thoughts about him were how best to rile him. He decided to bide his time, of which they all had plenty.

 

“Best get the horses corralled and set up a guard.  That cat has had a taste of horse flesh and could be back for more.” Hoss said quietly “Muller said he had fired off a shot at it and thought it was injured. You know the only thing worse than a wild mountain cat is an injured mountain cat.”

 

“Sure, I was thinking of doing that anyhows.” Pete nodded and looked over at Jake who also affirmed it with a nod of the head.

 

Hoss glanced at the women.   Mrs Hanratty had sunk anxiously into a chair beside her husband while Louisa was carefully pouring coffee into several mugs. Perhaps, Hoss reasoned, talk of the cat would frighten them, so he said nothing more but put down his cup and smiled when Louisa picked it up and asked him if he would like another.

 

“Do you think the cat will come back here?” she asked him, her blue eyes looking so directly into his own that Hoss felt the colour creeping back under his collar.

 

“It seems to have made this area his or her territory. Food is available and without too much trouble. It doesn’t need to hunt so it’s lazy, but it’s young and strong too.   It may not come back tonight, but it will come back.”

 

“Will you go and look for it?”  her eyes held his gaze steadily.  She may look frail, Hoss thought, but she was far tougher than  most would think.

 

“It may well be the best thing to do.” Hoss replied and turned away from the direct blue gaze to drink his cup of coffee and to think things over in his own mind.

*******

Chapter 6

 

The meal was pleasant. Mrs Muller fed her husband beef broth very tenderly and then, as he slept, came and sat down with them, having thanked Hoss profusely for all the help he had given to them “You saved his life. I shall never forget that, Mr Cartwright.” Mrs Muller said gravely, taking one of his hands into her own and clasping hold tightly.

 

“Folks around here call me Hos,” the big man mumbled shyly.

 

“Hoss Cartwright.” she took his hand and shook it “I’ll mention you in my prayers every day. God bless you, young man!”

 

Hoss looked embarressed and glanced away. As he looked up he noticed Louisa looking at him, and for an instant they just looked at one another, then she smiled and turned to talk to her son. Mr Mullers injuries were not critical, but nor were they superficial. His weak state and the loss of blood he had sustained, along with the shock of his ordeal, soon sent him into a raging fever leaving his wife nervously tending to him and lamenting yet again about the cruelty of their location, the distance from any doctor …not, she bitterly added, that one could guarantee any available when needed anyway.

 

As the passengers settled down to find beds for the night, Mrs Muller closed the door to her room in order to care for her husband. Louisa and Mrs Hanratty were to share the other guest room and the men to make up beds where they could.

 

“I’m going to bed down close to Hoss, Ma.” Laurie whispered when his mother had enquired of her son as to where he would sleep. She smiled, relieved to see that his hero worship had been so quickly diverted from the gunfighter.

 

The night was cool and a slight breeze wafted gently through the air and she pulled a shawl around her shoulders and very quietly stepped out into the yard. She could hear the snorts and shuffling of the horses in the corral and stepped out towards them. She hadn’t gone beyond the porch however when a tight grip on her wrist arrested her movements and when she turned she was horrified to find herself face to face with Cole Bowers. His thin lips curled away from his yellowing teeth like those of a wolfs and his eyes narrowed as he lowered his head towards her face.

.

“’Evenin’, Mrs Ford, a pleasant evenin’.” he said quietly, but the words held a sibilient hiss and she shivered “Cold, ma’am? Here let me…”

 

“No, it’s alright.” she flinched back as his other hand came towards her “I need to go inside now, if you don’t mind, Mr Bowers.”

 

“But you only jest stepped outa the house, ma’am. You talk like thet and I’m likely to think you ain’t wanting my company.” he smiled again, but not a pleasant smile merely a tight grimace that made her shiver again

 

“I really would like you to release my arm, Mr Bowers.” she said firmly.

 

“Now, ma’am, I really am beginnin’ to think you ain’t friendly at all. Fact is…”

 

“The fact is” Hoss said very close to Bowers ear “that the lady wants to go on inside, so why not jest let go of her arm as she’s asked you and let her go?”

 

Bowers froze. He glared at Louisa and promptly released her. Rubbing her arm, and throwing a grateful look of thanks at Hoss, she quicky ran back into the house. Bowers turned now and faced Hoss, his hand hovering close to his gun butt,

 

“Sorry, Bowers, I ain’t wearing any hardware jest now.” Hoss said quietly, and with a thrust of his big hand he pushed the thin man away. Bowers had to stagger back a few steps to maintain his balance.

 

“There’ll be another time, Cartwright.” Cole Bowers hissed.

 

Hoss paused by the door and turned to look at the gunman and then sighed “I guess so.” he replied very quietly.

 

Louisa Ford was still shivering as she stood by the fire and Hoss walked towards her. He surveyed her thoughtfully, before asking her if she would like a drink to calm her. Louisa smiled and shook her head, “Thank you, Mr Cartwright, but I’ll be alright in a moment. It was just such a peaceful evening and I guess I was rather stupid going out there with a man like Bowers here.”

 

“Yes, ma’am, with all due respect, p’raps that’s so.”

 

She turned to face him and smiled at the kindly face that looked down at her “Do you always find yourself stepping in rescuing people, Mr Cartwright?”

 

“Shucks, guess it is kinda getting’ to be a habit. Twice in one day,” he chuckled and she laughed softly as well.

 

“I am grateful, Mr Cartwright”

 

“Shucks, ma’am, t’weren’t nuthin’” Hoss replied, swallowing the lump that had suddenly heaved into his throat.

 

“My husband wrote to me about the Cartwrights. He said that you were the wealthiest family in Nevada. Is that right?”

 

“Mebbe, then agin, mebbe not! Folks are findin’ gold and silver an’ such at a fair rate thar, could be quite a few wealthier than us.” Hoss replied honestly.

 

“Luke said that your Pa is very important in the town. You were among the first settlers,weren’t you?”

 

“Wal, the Grosch brothers had been panning the Washoe for years afore we got thar, and there were others too. It was called Eagle Station then, thet’s where they built Carson City now, although I guess it don’t seem much like a city to folk from the East like yourself, ma’am.” he smiled down at her. “So, who is your husband, ma’am?”

 

“ Luke Ford. I daresay you must know him quite well. He said that Roy Coffee was always talking about the Cartwrights and the Ponderosa.”

 

“When did you last see your husband, ma’am?” Hoss said very quietly, looking now at the dying embers of the fire and trying to think out any answers he may have to give to questions that the woman could, perhaps, soon be asking him.

 

“Two years ago. But he writes almost every month. He owes me several letters now, as a matter of fact, which is why I’ve come”

 

“You worried about him, Mrs Ford?” he looked at her face and saw the concern etch itself in light lines over her face and then drift away as she turned from him

 

“Yes, I am, as a matter of fact. He always wrote so regularly, you see.”

 

Hoss said nothing to that, but looked thoughtfully down at the fire and picked up the poker and gave it a prod. Luke Ford! The name sounded familiar that was true, but he had certainly never met the man. He looked back at her as she walked to her room and closed the door behind her.

 

He made his bed from his saddle as a pillow and a blanket and was glad to be near a wall as far away from Cole Bowers as possible. Laurie slept lightly close by his side. Hoss looked at the boy thoughtfully before pulling his own blanket around his shoulders and settling down to sleep. Luke Ford? Who was this Luke Ford?

 

He slipped into the easy sleep of the young grown weary from a days hard travail, outside the wind began to whisper around the station. Inside there was a small concerto being played of snorts and snores and plenty of heavy breathing. Now and then a burnt out log disintegrated into ash which fell with a light whoooosh and a shower of sparks………

 

********

 

Laurence Ford woke up wondering momentarily where he was. The floor boards of the relay station were neither clean nor comfortable, and he had had so little sleep that when, in the early hours of the morning, he had finally managed to fall asleep he had gone into a sleep so deep that he woke up as stiff as one of the boards he had slept upon.

 

Bacon was sizzling in a pan on the stove and Mrs Hanratty was cheerfully dispensing coffee around the table and then bustling back to the stove to crack eggs into the skillet, turn over the bacon and see to the bread. Louisa smiled over at her son and placed a plate of food down in front of him and sat beside him.

 

Cole Bowers was scowling over his plate and comparing the few rashers with Mr Hanrattys plate of plenty, whilst Mr Hanratty was dipping toast into egg yolk with a happy, fulfilled look upon his fat face. Laurie frowned and looked at his mother

 

“I thought all this was a bad dream, ma” he complained in the thin whine of a typical adolescent.

 

“Well, as you can see, it isn’t.” Louisa smiled at him, and stroked his hair.

 

“Where’s Hoss?” the boy asked next, looking around for his new hero.

 

“He’s seeing to his horse.” Bowers said “Fine breakfast, ma’am. Thank you, pity there wasn’t more of it” and he scowled over at Hanratty.

 

Hoss opened the door and closed it quietly behind him. He noticed the scowls he received from Bowers but chose to ignore them. Pete and Jake glanced up and Hoss nodded,

 

“The horses are all ready, I got them harnessed up for you”

 

“Good, we’ll get moving then after we’ve eaten.” Jake said to Pete who nodded. There was little point in hanging around now. “What do you intend doing, Hoss? You kin always hitch a ride with us, if’n you’ve a mind to.”

 

“Thanks, Jake, but I thought I’d make sure that cat can’t do no more damage first. If you see Pa or my brothers in town will you tell them I’ll be home shortly.”

 

“Will do that fer yer,” Pete said and gave the big man a slap on the back as he passed him. The door opened and closed again behind them, and Hoss began to eat his meal.

 

“Are you going to be safe hunting down that cat on your own, Hoss?”

 

He did look up now, and the look of concern in her blue eyes made him swallow more than he had intended, but he nodded anyway and then continued to eat. He paused only to ask her if she knew how Mr Muller was and she told him quietly that the station master was well, and no longer in as much pain. All the while Hoss was conscious of Bowers glaring balefully at him, and fingering his gun, and obviously with a lot on his mind. He looked over at the man and frowned

 

“What you intending to do, Bowers?” he asked.

 

“I’ve things to do in Virginia City,” Bowers drawled slowly “I don’t intend to go pussy cat hunting if that’s what you’re meanin.’”

 

“Nope, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.” Hoss replied honestly.

 

Hoss drank his coffee and thanked Mrs Hanratty when a platter of bread was placed by his elbow. Opposite him Hanratty belched loudly and wiped a smear of egg yolk from his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

Hoss smiled over at Laurie who was fingering Hoss’ gun belt and gun with tentative curiousity, and then narrowed his eyes and looked thoughtfully at the two men “D’you reckon you could beat Mr Bowers to the draw, Mr Hoss?”

 

Immediately a chill descended upon them all, as though a cold breeze had drifted past them and made their back bones shiver. Hoss glanced over at Cole who had straightened his back as though ready for the challenge, but Hoss shrugged

 

“Mr Bowers profession is with the gun, Laurie. I’m jest a cowboy, that’s all. I prefer to keep my gun in its holster, unused.”

 

“Thought I saw me a streak of yella down that back of your’n.” Cole drawled “Seeing how broad yer back is, no one’s likely to miss out on seein’ it.”

 

Hoss frowned and glanced over at the Hanratty’s who were making very rapid attempts to leave as quickly as possible. Mrs Ford had drawn Laurence away, and was quickly assembling her belongings. She looked over at Hoss and smiled prettily, “Hoss, you don’t have to prove anything to us. You’ll always be a hero, to us and to the Mullers.”

 

Hoss grinned and dimpled and took a deep breath and stood up. He looked down at Bowers and raised his eyebrows and drew up his sleeves, which exposed his arms, each one of which was bigger than both Cole’s put together

 

“Cause, Mr Bowers, you could always show us how good you are at arm wrasslin’?” he grinned.

 

“I don’t make that a profession of mine,” Bowers said coldly and stepped back. He looked Hoss up and down as though taking the measure of him and without another word left the building.

 

Kathleen Muller stepped forward now. She approached them and put out a hand to Hoss “Mr Cartwright, my man would like to talk to you.” she said and then she looked at Louisa and smiled “Thanks for your help, missus.”

 

Louisa merely smiled and taking Laurie by the arm took her leave, pausing only to look back at Hoss as he walked into the other room. “Come on, Laurie, hurry up” she urged.

 

“Aw, ma, it weren’t me on the drag….” Laurie scowled

 

 

Lloyd Muller looked up at the big man and closed his eyes and then looked again. He forced a smile and extended his hand which Hoss accepted with a firm grip and shake. Lloyd glanced over at his wife and she quietly left the room “I only wanted to add my thanks to hers, mister,” he said gruffly.

 

“It was jest a good thing I was riding that way. I saw the buzzards circling and wondered what had happened.” Hoss replied, the blue eyes looking at the injured man with some concern.

 

“I think I winged her, problem is –“ Lloyd frowned “I don’t like the thought of being stuck in bed with my wife having to run this place single handed and that cat out there. She’s mean and as angry as a hornet.”

 

“I intended to go and find her today.” Hoss replied quietly and he stepped back from the bed. He looked at the man and realised that Lloyd Muller was still only in his twenties, and already he looked worn and thin and so much older “Mr Muller, you reckon on this job being the right thing for you and your wife? It’s a lonely place to be living, particularly for a woman.”

 

“Kathy don’t mind the loneliness, Mr Cartwright. She’s a hard worker and since our boy died, likes to be on her own.” He sighed and leaned back and closed his eyes, as though the matter of Kathy Muller was hardly one he wanted to contemplate at that point of time.

 

Hoss frowned and left the man on his sick bed. He returned to the other room where Kathy Muller was clearing away the dishes from the breakfast things. Hoss looked at her thoughtfully, a woman barely in her mid twenties who had lost a child already and now looked like a woman losing her youth and looks in the middle of nowhere.He picked up his hat and gun belt and made preparations to leave and she turned and looked at him and smiled. Her smile was like the warm sun peeking through clouds on a cool day, and it lit up her face and showed the prettiness behind the brittle mask she normally wore.

 

“Ready to go then, Mr Hoss?”

 

“I thought I’d go and see about that cat. I don’t want it causing you no harm, ma’am.”

 

“I thank you for that, mister” she walked to the door, wiping her hands on her apron in a way that Hoss knew was becoming a habit and one he would now always associate with her. He paused at the step and turned to look at her

 

“Ma’am, are you happy here?”

 

“I hate it here, Hoss.” She said simply “But the fact is my man loves it, and he likes the work here, and I love him.” she shrugged “Nuthin’ else rightly matters anyhows, apart from him and me’s being together.”

 

He smiled then and nodded and thought ‘Like Margie and I should have been” then he frowned at the realisation that he had not thought of Margie for nearly a week. This was the first time her name had trickled into his thoughts and it did not even leave a pang in his heart, just an emptiness that he knew he could live with now.

 

He put his big hat on his head and glanced over to where the stagecoach had left a pall of dust hanging in the air. He could still hear it rumbling away in the distance towards Virginia City. He took a deep breath and looked at her kindly, his blue eyes large and gentle, “I hope it all goes well for you, ma’am.” he whispered.

 

“I reckon.” She smiled again, and a soft glow flushed on her cheeks “Fact is, as soon as you’ve gone and I’ve done him a good strong cup of coffee, I’ve some news for him.” And she placed her hand gently upon her skirts, just under the waistband and smiled a dreamy soft smile “Next time you drift by, Mr Cartwright, there should be three of us …”

 

“Wal, ain’t that grand,” Hoss sighed and shook his head “I reckon Lloyd will be jest about tickled pink at that.”

 

“I reckon,” was all she said and her smile became that of a shy woman as she turned and closed the door gently behind her.

*******

 

Chapter 7

 

Hoss rode most of the day backtracking on his trail to where he recalled finding the dead horse, and then rode on to where he had found Lloyd.  Later he had a hasty meal by the river, washed down with cool water which he felt was sufficient as he was becoming increasingly aware of an agitation in the pit of his gut,  as though the job had to be done quickly because close behind him something sinister was lurking, waiting to pounce when he least expected it.

 

He had often said to his brothers that his head itched something awful whenever he was followed. It had always been a reliable rule of thumb and now his head was itching so much that he began to get twitchy. He loosened his gun in its holster and eased the rifle from its sheath, and looked very carefully all around him. Silence was so heavy that even the song birds were mute.

 

“Reckon that old cats got us in her sights, Chubb,” he whispered and the horse opened its dark brown eyes wider as though to say ‘Well, I can’t see it.”

 

Evening was gathering now and he knew that it would be impossible to find any more fresh tracks. As it was the tracks he had found were days old. All he had confirmed was that the cat stayed in its territory and the journey to the relay station had been a new venture. However, new or not, a pattern had been set that it could repeat and Hoss knew that the cat had obviously developed a taste for horse flesh.

 

He was about to strike the match to light the camp fire when he heard a rustle in the shrubs that came close to the boulders about him. He paused and glanced over at Chubb who although not exactly panic stricken was yanking at his reins in an effort to go some place else. Reaching out his hand Hoss very slowly picked up the rifle and crept towards his horse and to the safety of some boulders. There was a rasping sound, and a panting, as though someone had ran too far and was now gasping for breath.  Hoss lowered his head and narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see beyond the gathering gloom of the twilight.

 

It appeared with such an abrupt suddenness and gave such a throaty roar that Hoss stepped back involuntarily.  His rifle discharged a shot uselessly into the air. The cat raised its head and screamed its anger at its two legged enemy and cringed down upon its belly.  With a powerful lunge of its back legs it propelled itself forwards.

 

She seemed to fly. How something so powerful and so heavy could appear to glide so effortlessly from one boulder and towards him Hoss did not know. He barely had time to raise the rifle to his shoulder to aim and fire. As his shoulder jolted back from the thrust of rifle shot, he felt a thud, like a physical blow, in his back. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, the cat had disappeared.

 

He looked at the horse and the horse looked back at him and tossed its head, and flared its nostrils and then Hoss heard the sound of foot steps behind him. He half turned and in moving at an angle realised that there was pain in his chest. He looked down and saw a dark shadow spreading across his shirt. When he touched it with his fingers it was warm and sticky to his touch. He could feel an itchy trickling sensation down his back and the thought occurred to him that the cat must have got him.

 

Got him? It didn’t make sense, how could the cat have ‘ got him’?  But the evidence was there.  Blood was streaming now from a wound that had appeared from somewhere and while he was thinking, wondering, there was such an intense pain that he had to lean against the boulder to stand upright.

 

He heard movement behind him and tried to turn. He swung the rifle round, but his fingers were slowly turning to putty and there was no longer any sensation in them. Slowly the weapon dropped from his hands and cluttered down the rocks.

“I’m going to fall.” he thought and tried to stretch out a hand to steady himself.   Although his mind gave the command there was no response and he saw the rocks coming towards him, very slowly, it seemed at first. Then, suddenly, he felt more pain.   And then,  he was aware of nothing at all.

……………………..

 

Pete had never driven the stagecoach so fast before as it was a company policy to keep to a steady pace for the comfort of all the passengers, but he felt such an urgency to get to Virginia City that he drove like Jehu would his chariot in going to war against the enemies of Israel.

He careered through the towns main street and sent people scattering for their lives and wagons veered down into side alleys to avoid a collision with him. He pulled up the horses and applied the brakes only when he saw a young man strolling rather thoughtfully down the sidewalk, eating an apple and fiddling with the string of his green jacket.

“Little Joe, am I glad to see you.” Pete yelled as he descended from the stagecoach “You’ve got to do something quick, Joe..  That brother of yours is in big trouble.”

“What?” Joe stared at Pete as though he were not seeing him at first and then he blinked and looked more than aware of what the driver was saying for he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards him “What did you say? You’ve seen Hoss? Where?”

“At the relay station, the new one..Muller runs it…it’s near on 10 hours ride from here. Look, Joe, there’s a man called Bowers, he’s a gun man, and he’s gone out to kill your brother.”

“To kill Hoss?”

“I jest said so, didn’t I? He was one of the passengers but when we left Mullers place he got off and said he had some unfinished business to attend to, and went back.  Seems he and Hoss had an altercation back there and not only that, Hoss went off by himself to get the mountain cat.”

Joe stared at Pete as though the man was mad. Already a crowd of people were beginning to gather around, wondering why the stage had stopped in the middle of the town instead of at the depot. The passengers were dismounting and Little Joe was conscious of the fact that not everything Pete was gabbling about made sense. He pulled the driver back against the wall of the General Store

“Right, just tell me exactly where you last saw my brother and what direction he was headed?” he demanded.

Chapter 8

Roy Coffee paused in the act of pouring a drink into the cup held by a young man clad all in black who was reclining on a chair with his feet on the desk and the chair tilted onto its back legs. Both men turned to the door when it was pushed open and both rose to their feet when a young woman, accompanied by a young boy, stepped inside and glanced shyly from one to the other of them.  Finally, mustering up boldness she stepped forward with her hand outstreatched towards Roy “You must  be Sheriff Coffee?”

Roy accepted her hand and shook it gently “Yes, ma’am, I’m sheriff Coffee.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve heard so much about you and assumed that you would have known who I am. I’m Louise Ford.” she smiled at them both, “This is my son, Laurie.”

The young man returned her smile pleasantly and nodded a greeting to them both, then looked at Roy and quirked an eyebrow, and Roy, puzzled and perplexed, looked back at him and raised both his!  Louisa cleared her throat “MRS Louise Ford.” she repeated while she gripped her purse in her hands and looked at them both, from one to the other, with an attempt to suppress her anxiety.

“Well now, Mrs Ford, it’s right nice of you to call in and make our acquaintance but I don’t have the faintest notion as to who you are…” Roy mumbled in his amiable slow way, he pushed his spectacles further up his nose to peer at her more closely.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.” Louise stammered, while the colour mantled her cheeks as the  younger man pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows and glanced at Roy to see what reply would be forthcoming from the venerable lawman.

“Guess I’m real sorry about that, ma’am, but that kinda leaves us both confused on account of I don’t rightly knows what’s going on here.”  Roy frowned, “Have you come to report a crime?  A complaint of some kind?   You’re new to town, ain’t’cha?”

“But I’m Louise Ford, this is my son, Laurie… My husband is Luke Ford, your deputy sheriff.”

The two men looked at one another again and both frowned and then turned to observe her, she felt panic rising and began to feel her heart beat racing faster so placed a hand upon her chest as though to slow it down “He’s  been your deputy for two years now.”

“I’m real sorry, ma’am, but I don’t rightly know how to tell  you this, but the fact being that there ain’t no Luke Ford ever been deputy sheriff here.”

Adam moved in time to get the chair in the appropriate place for her to sink into, he would have advised that the child be removed from the office but Laurie clung tight to his mother so all he could do was put water into a glass and hand it to her. She waved it aside while she stared woodenly at the desk as though it would inspire her with some solution to this mystery.  Finally she opened her purse and took out a small pocket book from which she produced a picture which she handed to the sheriff.

“This is my husband, Luke Ford.   Now tell me you don’t know who he is!”

Roy stared at the photograph and then passed it to Adam who looked at it thoughtfully before he returned it to the woman, Roy shook his head and then with a sigh asked her whether she had heard from her husband recently.

“No, that’s why I’m here.  He stopped writing to me a few months ago.  He had always been regular in writing every month.  Please tell me that he’s alright.”

“Well, ma’am, fact is -” Roy chewed on his moustache and glanced at the boy, “Perhaps you had best tell the lad to wait for you outside.”

Laurie was having none of that, he clung closer to his mother who grabbed at his hand as though he were her life line “Say what you have to say, Laurie would have to know sooner or later.  Best he hears right from the start… if you have bad news … ”  her voice faltered and she looked at Adam who was regarding her with such sympathy on his face that she knew for certain that the news would not be good.

“Well, in that case, ma’am, I really am sorry to tell  you this but the fact of the matter is that your Luke Ford – your husband – was known to us as Mark Sloan.”

“I’m sorry,” she stared at the old man, her blue eyes filled with tears and she shook her head slightly as though to scatter away the clouds that fogged her brain, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Mark SLoan was a gambler, a regular at the saloons here in town.” Adam explained gently in deep, measured tones, his dark brown eyes lingered on her face, at the distress and horror that were now changing to abject misery, “Some months ago he was killed during  a poker game when he was accused of cheating.”

Laurie blurted out immediately “My Pa ain’t no cheat.”

“Luke never cheated anyone in his life.” she echoed although her voice was a soft shiver of words.

“I did say he was accused of cheating, not actually cheating.” Adam said quietly.

“Anyhows, the man who shot your husband was arrested and charged for his murder.  Your husband didn’t even have the the time to draw a gun, had he possessed one.  I am sorry, Mrs Ford, but your husband died and was buried in the towns cemetary.  If you would like me to take you there I would be more than happy to oblige…” Roys voice faded into nothing, unsure now that he was saying the right thing.

“He’s dead.” she intoned as though the words had to be hammered into her brain by its repetition “He’s dead.”

“I’m real sorry, ma’am, but there jest ain’t no other way to tell you than how it is..” Roy glanced at Adam, looking acutely embarrassed by the  young womans emotion.

Laurie clung to his mother, his face was ashen, his eyes bright with tears which he was struggling, for his mother’s sake, not to let fall. “What shall I do? What about my children?” she whispered and buried her face in her hands and began to cry forlornly while her son clutched at her arm and now allowed the tears to fall.

Adam was about to offer some practical help, some sympathetic consolation when the door burst open  as Pete

crashed his way into the sheriffs office. It was as though the momentum of driving the stagecoach at speed was still driving him, for every action of his was at least four times faster than usual.

“Adam, I jest saw Joe. Told him about Hoss –,” he gasped.

“About Hoss? What about Hoss?” Adam cried, standing up so abruptly that Roy was almost toppled over as Adams elbow caught him in the chest.

“Your brother, Joe, he’s gone hurtling off to find him.”

“Joe’s gone? Where to?” and without pausing to say another word either to Roy or Pete, Adam Cartwright grabbed his black hat and disappeared out of the door, followed by Pete who was yelling details of Bowers, the mountain cat and the Mullers relay station in a muddled jumble of words.

********

Hoss stirred and opened his eyes and tried to move. There was no pain now, just a total heaviness that seemed to weigh him down so that movement was impossible. Even to open his eyes took more energy than normal, and when he did open his eyes, he wished that he had not for he was surrounded by total darkness. He remembered that he had been wounded somehow, and raised his hand to touch the wound but as he did so a warm and small hand arrested his, and a gentle voice told him to drink something that was held now to his lips. It was an effort to comply and water slopped down his chin and face and neck, but that was somehow refreshing.

He had never felt so weak nor so hot. He wanted to speak but only a groan passed his lips. A cool wet cloth was placed upon his forehead and that sent shivers trickling though his veins. He wondered whether he were at home and called out for his pa, but that also came out only as a muffled moan.

Dawn streaked the sky in colours of fiery red and orange and faintest blues and the sun rose slowly from above the mesa as though it too was starting the day with a yawn.

Hoss opened his eyes and looked around him. He felt stiff and sore and there was a nagging pain in the shoulder area but apart from that he was feeling surprisingly alert. He took a deep breath and then felt a stab of pain actually sear across his chest, so very slowly he released it again and closed his eyes. He had had so many strange dreams, all interconnected but fragmented. Faces had hovered too and fro like giant balloons. Those of his family, friends old and new. They all had mouths that kept opening and shutting before they drifted away to be replaced by someone else, but not one of them had eyes. That puzzled him somewhat and he spent a few minutes to mull it over before the smell of food cooking awakened another of his senses.

“Are you awake, Mr Hoss?”

He opened his eyes wide and stared at the woman who was squatting beside him with a concerned look on her face. He glanced around to see if there was anyone else there, but so far as he could see, she was quite alone.

“Mrs Muller?” he muttered “What in the name of Sam Hill are you doing here?”

“Cooking breakfast.” She smiled and looked at him thoughtfully “Do you feel strong enough to eat?”

“I always feel strong enough to eat, ma’am” he grinned at her and she smiled back, that perfect smile that lit up her eyes and she nodded and got up and walked over to the fire.

She was dressed in a mans pair of pants and jacket and she wore a battered felt hat over her hair. Hoss noticed the rifle that she held in one hand with comfortable ease although she put it down to tend to the food. Once more he wondered what she was doing along on the mesa, with him.

“Ma’am .. should you be here?” he asked as she passed him a plate of steaming food and a mug of coffee placed at hands reach. “I mean, shouldn’t you be with your husband?”

“Lloyd sent me here.” She replied simply and pushed the hat from off her head so that her hair fell now about her shoulders. She began to eat the food with a hearty appetite and Hoss certainly did not need to be given any hints on getting started. After a moment of silence had elapsed she spoke once again “I was tending to Lloyd when I heard someone outside and when I went out to take a look there was that Cole Bowers riding out of the yard on one of our horses and the spare saddle. He must have gotten off the stage some bit upaways and decided on stealing a horse and following on after you.”

“Dadburn it!” Hoss exclaimed, nearly biting his tongue in the process.

“I told Lloyd and he reckoned the same. That Cole was out to git you, Mr Hoss. Wal, he was going to come himself but was too weak an’ all, so he said ‘Honey, you have to go and help Hoss Cartwright yersel’ becos if’n ya don’t an’ that hombre does kill ‘im, niether one of us would ever sleep sound in our beds agin’ So I got my things set up and came out rightaway. Fact is, he had a good lead on me and so I didn’t ketch up with you until he had shot you down and left you fer dead.”

“I thought it was the cat that had got me,” Hoss exclaimed in surprise.

“Shucks no, mister Hoss, it was Cole Bowers. Shot you in the back and then rode off without a backward glance. Prob’ly a good thing cos he didn’t see me.”

“You came all this way to help me, even though there was a wild cat loose and a mad man as well?” Hoss looked at her admiringly, knowing that quite a few men would have hesitated to have done so much.

“Fact is, Mister Hoss, you saved my husbands life. We owes you thet…”

“But what if…”

“Ya can’t live a life ‘what iffing’, mister Hoss.” She gulped down some of the coffee and then wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and smiled at him “Lloyd taught me to shoot a gun and a rifle, and lord knows I’ve had plenty of time on my hands to practise with both. I daresay I could even teach that Belle Trask a thing or two by now. And when I found you, I thought fer sure you were dead, but the bullet had passed right through, so I had no worries about pokin’ around for it. Some indian friends of ours taught us a lot about healing herbs and sich, so I jest plugged your wound up with some moss like they shewed me and gave you massive doses of willowbark. You had a bad fever but I reckon the wound was clean enough not to have caused you no blood poisoning. You slept sound after a while and I kin see you have a right healthy appetite.” she smiled again and her eyes twinkled “Some more?”

“Them words is music to my ears, ma’am!” Hoss declared heartily.

He watched her as she walked over to the camp fire and refilled the plate with good hot food. It touched his heart to think that she, a lone woman who until the previous day had been a complete stranger, should have gone to such lengths to save his life, to even be prepared to protect his life against all odds. It made him feel ashamed and yet so full of gratitude that life suddenly meant a considerable deal more than it had for some time.

She brought over the food and sat down again to drink her coffee, a slight frown on her brow “You talked a lot in yer sleep” she muttered.

“Shucks, so Joe tells me.”

“You seemed right worried about a Margie woman,” she stared down into her mug as she spoke “No need to say anything, if’n you prefer not” she added hurridly.

“Oh, Margie was a –,” Hoss paused then decided to be honest and tell this brave woman about Margie, “I wanted to marry her but she married someone else and died not so long ago.”

“It happens.” Kathy said quietly “We all have our losses, that’s part of life, ain’t it? Can’t carry it around all the time or life gets too bitter and too twisted for it to be decent after a while. I thought I was goin’ to go crazy after my boy died. I felt that guilty not bringin’ in a doc to care for him, but I had no money and Lloyd did all he could to help but in the end it weren’t to be and that put me at the cross roads of whether to go on living or jest give up. And I ain’t never bin a quitter!” she sighed and tossed the dregs to one side “Lloyd brought me out here and I’ve hated it . 24 hours day and night I hated it. But then you can’t live yer life hating either.” she smiled slowly “When I thought Lloyd was dead I was that skeered and then last night, sitting here an’ all, and watchin’ the sun rise  I realised that I didn’t want ever to leave it. This is our only chance to be happy now.” Her voice faded a little and her hands caressed the slight mound of her belly where the unborn lay.

Hoss sighed and finished his drink and then closed his eyes. He was so tired that he could have slept forever. But his mind was alert and he wanted to think about Margie. It had occurred to him, while Kathy was talking, that Margie, whom he had loved so much, would never have done for him, what this woman had during the past 24 hours. Margie was the prettiest little girl in Nevada but he now realised that she would never have married him.  Even if Connors had never ridden into their lives, it would have been someone else. Perhaps that someone else would have given her all she wanted.

Hoss knew now that he could never have given her what she wanted.  Margie suited the dining room, and the tea parties and the town goings on, but for the life he would have provided for her, no…not ever. He felt the sadness still, the memory of her in that hospital, and the hardship she had endured during her last months, they still hurt. But he knew that his love was just the desire to protect the vulnerable, the timid pretty thing that she was. It was hardly the love that made a man and woman one whole person, ready to take on the world despite any hardship.

“Was she special then?” Kathy asked quietly.

“I guess she was, ma’am, in her own way, I guess she was!”

 

********

Little Joe gulped down fresh clean water from the canteen and after swilling it round his mouth spat down into the dust that rose in clouds around the wheels of the wagon that Muller had insisted they take on this leg of the journey. He glanced over at his brother who was galloping beside the wagon on Sport, his face looking terse and grim.

“How long now?” he asked and Adam glanced over at his brother and shrugged

“Anytime I should think…..” came the reply.

“I still reckon we should have carried on last night.   We wasted time stopping at the relay station”

Adam frowned, and wished his little brother would stop going over the same subject all the time. They had discussed it, rather heatedly, the previous evening when the relay station had come into view, or rather, the light from its windows had been like a beacon on a dark night. Then it had been discussed rather volubly before they bedded down and again before they left. He turned to survey his brother who was staring fixedly at the rumps of the four horses that Muller had insisted they took, as four horses pulling a wagon was equal, if not better, to one horse at a gallop.

“Look, Joe, what was the point? We’d been riding over six hours and knew the trail would start from the relay station. We could have ridden on and lost the trail altogether in the dark, and ended up hours distance from it, instead of being able to pick it up fresh this morning. If Bowers has gunned down Hoss, then we would have been too late anyway.”

“Great.” Joe glowered at his brother before turning his attention back to the horses “And why did we have to be lumbered with this contraption anyway. I don’t like the thought of leaving Cochise behind.”

“We drew for it, Joe. You jest happened to draw the short straw,” and Adam gave a sly grin to himself at the memory. So far he still managed to pull off a few stunts which his brothers had yet to catch up on.

Joe said nothing to that, after all, it was logical to take a wagon whether Hoss was dead or injured or niether.  There was the woman to consider as well. He thought about Mrs Muller and what kind of woman she was to have gone out to help Hoss. Undeterred by the thought of the wild cat lingering around.

He glanced about now, the memory of the cat suddenly recalled to his mind that, yes, indeed, there was a vicious four legged creature out there, as well as the two legged rat they would be seeking if anything had happened to Hoss.

“Hey, over there,” he yelled and pointed to a cloud dust approaching them fast.

Adam squinted and watched as the dust cloud drew nearer.  It was a riderless horse, unsaddled but still with its bridle and the reins streaming behind it. He spurred Sport forward and met with the beast, grabbing at the reins. After riding alongside it for a few minutes he finally drew it to a sweating heaving halt beside the wagon. He dismounted and walked around the horse slowly, before running a gloved hand down its foam streaked neck and heaving flanks. He took the water canteen that Joe handed him and filled his hat with water and proffered it to the beast. Rather nervously the horse  began to drink as though its life depended on it. Joe watched and observed that the horse had scratch marks down its left rear flank,

“They’re fresh but not deep.” Adam remarked after checking them over. “There’s been no blood drawn but she was scared enough to bolt, that’s for sure.”

“Do you think it’s the womans?”

“I hope not, Joe, because if it is we could be bringing home two bodies ,” he did not need to add to the comment, Joe clearly understood what he meant and tried to divorce himself from the painful emotion that trickled through him at that moment.

“Could be Bowers?” he said hastily.

“Mmm, could be.” Adam narrowed his eyes and glanced up at the sun.  His eyes scanned the horizon and then scanned the ground to pick up any fresh sign that they were on the right track. He looked at the spare horse and stroked its neck,

“She’s ran herself to a standstill, and sweating enough to get a fever. Get me the blanket from the wagon, Joe, we need to see to her before we go any further.”

“Shucks, at this rate,” Joe began to protest, even as he pulled the blanket from the wagon.

“At this rate, Joe, whatevers happened has already happened and whether we get there sooner or later won’t make much difference. Here..give me that …” and he grabbed at the blanket that Joe techily tossed down to him.

“It’s only an old nag.” Joe grumbled.

“I’ll forget you said that, young man,” Adam said testily and gave his brother a stern look from under his dark brows, “You’ve been taught to know better than that.”

Joe scowled, chewed his thumb and wanted to apologise because he knew that he had been wrong, but because it was Adam putting him right, again, he kept silent. He waited until the horse had been blanketed and calmed and given a little soothing before being tethered to the back of the wagon. At last they could set off again heading towards the mesa where the trail led them.

…………………

“Guess I’ll change that dressing now.” Kathy Muller said quietly to the big man who was half asleep by the camp fire. “How do you feel now, Mr Hoss?”

“Tired,” Hoss mumbled and flinched a little as she began to take away the dressing from the wound.  Then he relaxed as he sensed that she was being very gentle and careful, bathing the wound with warm salted water and cleaning it out before reapplying fresh plugs of moss and dressing . “Thanks, ma’am,” he accepted another drink of hot water with some herbs added to it “You’d make a good nurse.”

“I’d probably not be such a good nurse as folks would want in their towns, Mr Hoss. I reckon on some of them indian remedies as being a whole lot more effective than some of that stuff the docs want us to pour down our throats! “

“You seem to have learned a lot in the short time you’ve been here” he said drowsily.

“Wal, seems to me if you do one good turn to an indian the whole tribe wants to repay you. They helped us through a bad winter and been good friends ever since.” She put more wood onto the fire and pulled the blanket up to his chest “Sure, they taught me a lot, and I’m more’n grateful to them fer it, especially now, seeing how quick you seem to be healing.”

“I’m more’n grateful,” he muttered and watched as she walked to a tree opposite him.  She sat down with her back against its weathered old trunk. She looked like a young boy as she sat there, with the rifle across her knees.  He smiled to himself as he thought that he would probably never have seen Margie dressed like that, nor nursing a rifle so casually and so competently.

“I’ll check you when it’s time to eat. Best thing now is fer you to sleep. Sleep is the best cure-all an’ that’s a fact.” she pulled her hat back onto her head, shoving locks of dark hair beneath it and looking more like a boy than ever as a result “If’n you’re fit enough then, we could start riding back.  Don’t reckon much on being out here in open country with a wild cat on the loose.”

Hoss said something along the lines that it would suit him fine, but his eyes were already closing. He could not remember ever being so tired.

……………….

The cat licked along the length of her side where the bullet had traced a bloody wound. This was the second time the two legged beasts had suceeded in wounding her and the pains from both wounds were making her short fused temper even shorter. She had followed one of them as he had ridden away from the mesa and had stalked around the area where he had intended making camp for the night.

The horse had obviously picked up her scent on the breezes and had bucked and reared when the man had approached her and at the first chance she had had she had ran and the cat, smarting from her own wounds, made a pounce but missed clumsily, only succeeding in raking along the horses rear flank and not even drawing blood. However, it had made her realise her own weakness and weariness and she had withdrawn among the boulders after emitting several deep throated husky roars to let the two legged beast know that she had not forgotten him!

And nor had she! She finished her grooming and sat up and stretched, cat like fashion, beautiful in the sunlight, golden and sleek and gleaming. Her claws she slowly unleashed and drew against the surface of the rock, emitting much the same sound as chalk upon a schools chalk board …she yawned widely, once , twice, and then allowed a soft rumble deep in her throat to vibrate against the morning air.

Every muscle was honed to perfection and the golden eyes were as clear as golden glass. She was young and lithe and lissome and had yet to be mated and have cubs of her own. This was her territory however, and as she walked she marked it. Usually the male cats would do that, but there were no male cats on this territory and she, disdainful of intruders, wanted to warn off anyone and anything from what was hers.

She eased her limbs elegantly into a prone position and watched as the two legged beast sat amongst the rocks. She licked her front paw casually and narrowed her golden orbs and purred, she could smell his fear, his lonesomeness and with a yawn she emitted a loud rumble of contentment, just loud enough to let him know that she was there and aware of his fear and isolation.

Cole Bowers wiped the sweat from his brow and edged back into the rocks. He cursed the fool horse for running off as it had, and he cursed his own stupidity in going on after that Cartwright. There were only two things that gave him satisfaction at that present moment and that was the thought that Cartwright was dead, and that the water canteen was full. He checked his rifle and wiped away the sweat that beaded along his eyebrows and waited.

 

********

“Hold it right thar!”

Adam drew Sport up immediately when he saw the rifle pointed in his direction and behind him.  Little Joe drew up the horses and brought the wagon to a standstill. Both men saw Hoss sitting amongst some boulders with a rather sheepish grin on his big round face and the pure joy of seeing him made both of them reckless enough to risk a bullet as they jumped down to the ground and ran towards him

“Hoss..you great galoot.” Joe howled and whooped.

“Hot diggitty, where’d you two sprung from?” Hoss cried, standing up to engulf them both in his arms “Ain’t never bin so glad to see anyone – shucks – what’re you two doin’ here anyhows?”

“We came to find you, you idiot,” Adam said, with a huge grin on his face and pushing himself away from his brothers embrace that could sometimes carry the risk of dislocation of some bones.

“Yeah, Pete told told us that you had problem.”   Joe grinned at his brother with joy beaming from his face.

“Pete?”  Hoss frowned, confused.

“Yeah, you know, Pete? The stage driver.” Joe chuckled “Hey, Hoss, what happened to you?”

“Got shot.” Hoss said lamely, his face crumpled into shame and he shook his head “Had muh back to him, didn’t even notice he was there ‘cos I was concentrating so hard on the cat.”

“Did you get her?”  Adam asked immediately.

“Reckon not.” Hoss sighed and then looked over at the woman who was still standing nearby with the rifle pointed at them “Shucks, Adam,Joe, this here is Mrs Muller, her husband is the relay station master. She came by and saved my life.”

“We met your husband last night, ma’am” Adam said, extending a hand which she took rather self consciously and shook, “He told us that you were out looking for Hoss. I can’t tell you how grateful we are that you found him, and took such good care of him.”

“Yeah” Joe grinned and shook her hand gently “He’s rather a special guy, y’know. We would have missed him if anything had happened to him.”

“ I reckon,” she murmered shyly and refastened the safety catch on the rifle with a smile.

………………

The cat watched as the man moved to another boulder. It put him into a better position for observation, although he did not realise that, and she watched him for the next ten minutes with all the languid interest any cat has in its prey. A cat watching the antics of a spider or a mouse was comparable to this game ……only in larger proportions! Finally she tired of watching and stretched her back, so that every muscle was aroused to action in that long, sensuous movement.

Bowers picked up the water canteen and took a deep gulp. It was cool and refreshing and relieved the tension that was building up around the top of his skull. He heard the slither of sand and gravel and swung round and without even aiming ……fired.

She was as beautiful in death as she had been in life. The chance random shot had sent a bullet neatly through her temple and she had fallen like a stone in mid flight towards him. Had that bullet missed, then there would have been no chance of survival for him.

 

………….

The four of them froze momentarily as the roll of the rifle shot echoed across the mesa. Then they glanced at one another and waited for two more shots to follow, to signify the distress signal but none came.

“Bowers?” Joe suggested, looking at Hoss and then at Adam.

Adam glanced about him and tried to locate through his hearing the location of the shot, then he looked at them and nodded,

“I reckon so. Do you think he’s got the cat?”

“Do you think the cat got him?” Hoss raised his eyebrows and grinned.

“Well, whatever has happened I guess we should go and find out.” Adam said very slowly. He didn’t exactly relish the thought of going to help the man who had tried to back shoot his brother,but there were humane and moral laws of conscience that dictated what a man should do in such circumstances and he looked at Joe “What do you say, Little Joe?”

“Say, you’re asking me?” Joe grinned, and the hazel eyes twinkled.

“I reckon that we get Mr Hoss on the wagon and outa here.” Kathy Muller suggested, stepping forward now and seeming to have suddenly lost her shyness “If Bowers is around, and he finds out Mr Hoss is still alive he may have another attempt.”

“Not with us around!” Joe boasted,  and going to his brother’s aid.

“I think it would be a good idea to get Hoss to your place, Mrs Muller.” Adam said, and leaned forward to help Hoss to his feet, but the effort of hauling at the big man made him wince and turn pale.   Hoss, seeing his elder brothers face contort a little, remembered what had happened just prior to his leaving home and felt shame tug at the back of his mind.

However, with the help of Mrs Muller, and Hoss finding that he had more strength in his feet than he had thought possible, they succeeded in getting him into the wagon and comfortably arranged among the blankets.

“Now, Hoss” Joe intoned with the seriousness of Dr Paul in his voice “I don’t want to hear that you’ve been up to any shenangings before I see you again, do you hear now, boy?”

“I sure do, Doc.” Hoss chuckled and then growing serious he extended his hand to Adam, who took it warmly in his own,”Adam, your ribs?  Are they…..?”

“Don’t mention them, Hoss.” Adam grinned “I’m just glad you’re safe. That’s more important to all of us just now.”

“See you soon then.” And with a wave of the hand Hoss allowed himself to be driven off, watching his two brothers as Adam mounted Sport.  Joe slipped his foot into the stirrup and mounted Chubb, who seemed quite surprised to see his stable mates master on his back. However, the load was certainly lighter and with a toss of his head the black horse leaped into action.

They had galloped over two miles when Adam slowed Sport down and signaled to Joe to pull over to his side,

“I was thinking, Joe, Bowers has no horse.”  Adam leaned upon the pommel of his saddle and pursed his lips.

“If he’s alive does that matter?  If he isn’t alive, it certainly won’t matter.” Joe grinned.

“Let’s split here, you take the high road there,”  Adam pointed to the track “If he thinks there is just one of us, he may try to get a horse “

“Kinda flush him out you mean?” Joe replied, narrowing his eyes.

“Mmmmm!” Adam nodded, and glanced around cautiously.

“Well, Adam, he doesn’t seem to be the kind of man who goes by the rules. What if he – you know – decides to shoot first?”

“Duck!” came the quiet answer.

“Duck?”

“Sure. You know how to duck, don’t you?”

“Oh sure, at the speed of a flying bullet I know how…” Joe grinned.

Adam merely smiled and watched as the younger man wheeled Chubb round and darted off towards the track. He let Joe ride until he was out of sight and then spurred Sport up the incline and along the same route.

 

Joe slowed Chubb down and took his time as he picked his way through the boulders. He could see the buzzards and vultures a little distance ahead and wondered, as he approached them, what he was about to ride upon. The thought that it could be human remains rather repelled him, so when he saw that it was the cat, he felt momentarily relieved. He turned the horse aside and continued onwards.

A bullet whined pass his head and flattened itself against the rock face and as he dove out of the saddle, Joe grabbed for his gun and unclicked the safety catch and scrambled for cover. Another bullet snickered against a rock by his foot, making him jump back and leaving him exposed with nowhere to go, for it was now patently obvious that Bowers had him covered, and the opportunity to take cover was long gone.

“I jest want your horse.” Bowers yelled, “Drop your gun, slowly, towards me.”

Joe bit his lip and did as he was to.  He felt a pang of panic as the gun rattled down and away from his reach. He looked up at Bowers who was now standing erect with the rifle pointed at him.

“Alright, Bowers, what else do you want?” Joe asked in as calm a manner as he could muster in the circumstances.

“Hh? You know my name, how’s that?”

“I know you for the skunk you are, back shooter,” Joe yelled, anger at seeing the man taking precedence over caution.

“Harsh words, mister. What proof you got to back them words up, huh?”

“You shot my brother in the back.” Joe hissed, the words passed his lips before he could think of holding them back.

“Your brother? Hoss Cartwright was it?” Bowers frowned “He’s still alive?”

“You betcha! And if you had any sense you’d better put that rifle down and toss your gun over here…otherwise -.”

“Otherwise what?” Bowers sneered, and raised the rifle to his shoulder and aimed.

“Otherwise I’ll shoot,” said a very calm voice right behind him and momentarily Bowers froze.

Bowers spun round and fired off a shot. Even as the sound rippled into nothingness it was followed by two gun shots that sent him spinning out of control and toppling over the boulders to land, in a bloodied heap, at Joe’s feet.

“I thought I told you to duck?” Adam shouted down to his little brother who grinned up at him “Is he dead?”

“Reckon so, Adam,” came the reply and Joe knelt down and turned the man over onto his back to make sure.

Cole Bowers had never been a handsome man but in the contortions of death he looked as though he were evil incarnate. Joe closed his eyes and stood up and looked at Adam .

“He’s dead alright. You got him with both bullets in the heart.”

Adam nodded thoughtfully and looked down at the man “We’ll bury him here. That’s the least we can do for a man like him.”

 

Finale

“Mr Hoss?”

“Yes, ma’am?”  Hoss glanced over at the woman standing at his side.

“D’you have any other name other than Hoss?”

“Wal, fact is, ma’am, I was named Erik – with a K – “

“Erik with a K.” she smiled dreamily and looked at Lloyd who smiled at her and took her hand,  “Mr Hoss?”

“Yes,ma’am?” Hoss paused as he was about to put his foot in the stirrup and turned to look at the couple standing by the door of the relay station

“Would you mind very much if –,” she took a deep breath, “if we have a son, could we name him after you?  Could we call him Erik with a K?”

“Shucks, ma’am, on one condition,” and he smiled and walked over and took hold of her hand “Thet I can come and visit anytime ?”

“Anytime, Hoss?”  she smiled her quiet smile and her eyes twinkled.

“Anytime, ma’am?”

The three of them shared a smile and another shake of the hands and Hoss felt his heart well up with pure delight. During the few days he had been forced to stay with the Mullers at the relay station he had not only recovered his physical health but adjusted a lot of his thinking and feeling as he watched the devoted, hard working couple go about their daily chores. This was, he knew, what marriage was all about.

He thought of the time his Pa had told them about the way a man and woman could sometimes be like a mule and an oxen, under the same yoke perhaps, but both pulling with differing strengths. However, two mules,or two oxen, working together under the same yoke, could help one another far more equally .

On the way home he paused at Rocking Chair butte and walked to the graveside and placed a bunch of wild flowers on the grave of little Margie Owens. He touched the headstone gently and smiled,

“I’ll never forgit you, Margie. I’ll always love you but not like before when it hurt so much. Now I know that when you started looking up, and seeing them thar stars, I should have jest stepped back and let you go on reaching for ‘em. Mebbe you were meant to be a star all the time. But me?   ! guess I’m meant to stay as I am.  I feel happier for it, knowing that I have my place. Even if I know you ain’t never gonna be there by my side, it don’t hurt anymore none, because I know now that being by my side weren’t the right place for you;  and,  being by your side, weren’t the right place for me.”

He turned away and walked down the slope towards where Chubb was waiting and he took a deep lungful of fresh Ponderosa air.

“Come on, Chubb,” he whispered as he swung himself into the saddle, “It’s time to be goin’ on home.”

Finis

 

Tags:  Family