Summary:  WHN for The Magnificent Adah.  Joe was assaulted by one of Ben’s rivals.  Hoss dealt with the gentleman and the episode ends with Ben, Hoss, and Adam returning from the saloon to check on Joe.

(I spent quite a while attempting to find and correct all answers.  I hope you enjoy the story!  I had a great time writing this WHN!!)

13,957 words   Rating:  K+ (has some description of physical assault)

The Pain and the Fury

 

Joe awoke to the sound of someone moaning, not realizing that it was his own voice disturbing the silence of the room. The pain that flared across his face was nothing he had experienced before and Joe could not control the whimpers and moans that rose from deep within his chest.

“Shh, son. I’m here. Everything is going to be fine. Settle down now,” came the familiar, soothing voice. The young man tried to open his eyes only to find that his eyelids would not move. An overwhelming fear set in and brought with it responses that only increased his emotional reaction.

“Pa, Pa, get him off me. I can’t see him, Pa. I can’t open my eyes!” Joe shouted between lips that were swollen and felt as if they did not belong to him. “Oh God, help me please,” he moaned, continuing to fight an unseen enemy. The movement sent tremendous stabs of pain to the base of his skull and across both shoulders taking his breath and intensifying his struggle.

“Pa, let me have him,” Adam said as he rushed in to the room. He noted the look of concern on his father’s face as he tried to calm the boy who lay injured and fighting with the little strength he had remaining in his battered body. Adam felt as if he should be doing more to help his brother, but he did not know what that would be considering Joe’s injuries.

“No, don’t restrain him; he’ll just fight harder,” Hoss said. Joe continued to pull at the bandages covering his eyes while his Pa and brothers attempted to calm him. He only knew that he was afraid and in pain and in the dark. Wanting to open his eyes, Joe pulled at whatever held them closed, finding it a wasted effort.

“Joseph, there are bandages over your eyes, son. You’re going to be fine, but you have to stop fighting. You’re at the hotel with me and your brothers,” Pa said as Adam reached for Joe’s arms to keep him from fighting. “Adam, don’t hold him down. Joseph, listen to me and stop fighting right now.”

That was an order from the voice Joe was used to hearing and he began to respond to his father’s requests. As he worked to get his breathing under control, the nausea that he had been ignoring made its presence known and in full force. “Pa, I’m gonna . . . .”

“Get the basin, Adam,” Ben said. However, it was too late as a severe bout of vomiting began and wracked the already injured boy. The contents of his stomach found their way onto the quilt and in Ben’s lap as he tried to comfort his son. Joe’s stomach continued to spasm until dry heaving indicated that his belly was empty. The dry heaving continued, creating pain and discomfort that moved throughout his body. To make the situation worse, Joe’s nose began bleeding, adding to the nausea and violent heaving of his stomach, thereby increasing the pain that flared across his chest and back.

“Pa, I’ll get Paul,” Adam said as he left the room. He continued to hear Joe’s struggle as he entered the hallway, making his flight even more urgent. Adam thundered through the hallway and down the stairs, nearly running in to Dr. Martin.

“Paul, Joe’s having a hard time right now and we need you in his room,” Adam explained as he found the town doctor on his way up the stairs.

“I felt that he would begin showing signs of concussion when he woke this morning. That’s why I’m on my way up to his room. How long has he been awake?” Paul asked.

“A short time actually. He woke up fighting and by the time Pa got him settled he started vomiting, then his nose started bleeding,” Adam explained as he opened the door to the suite of rooms they shared at the hotel.

“Paul, hurry!” Ben shouted from the bedroom. The concerned father was consoling his injured son; attempting to control the blood that flowed freely from Joe’s injured nose.

Dr. Paul Martin found his patient lying across his father’s arms and appeared to be quite miserable. Hoss carried a basin and bed linen from the room, indicating the extent of Joe’s sickness. Paul dropped his black bag on the table closest to the bed, took a seat and began his work. Looking at his patient, Dr. Martin observed, again, the severity of Joe’s condition and began making rapid mental notes regarding his care.

“Ben, let me have him,” Paul said as he eased Joe from his father’s lap, cradled his head carefully and slowly laid him on the pillows. “Adam, let’s keep a basin close by in case he gets sick again. Joe, this is Pau and I need you to listen to me. I‘m going to work on getting your nose to stop bleeding and then we’ll see about making you more comfortable.”

“My head hurts bad, Paul. What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Joe, don’t worry, son. You’re going to be fine. You have a concussion and that’s why you were so sick when you woke up and that’s why you have a headache. I may give you something for that later, but right now, I want you to settle down and let me take care of you. Understand?”

“Yes Sir. My eyes, Paul?” Joe asked quietly. His question was muffled by the cloth Dr. Martin used to stop the nosebleed.   Joe felt miserable and helpless as the family friend work to get him sorted out.

“Yes, your eyes will be just fine. You have to follow my orders, understand? Now, you lay there quietly and let me take care of this nose and then I’ll look at your eyes,” Paul said as he patiently worked to stop the blood that flowed freely from Joe’s nose. Paul thought about how violent a man must be to attack a young man as small as Joe. The size of the bruises on Joe’s body and the extent of his injuries were indicators of the strength of the attacker.

“That’s it, son. We got the nose to stop bleeding and now let’s take a close look at your eyes,” Paul said as he spoke quietly to his patient. Removing the bandages, Paul noticed that both eyes were swollen and the areas beneath the bandages had taken on a myriad of colors. “Joe, try to open your eyes for me if you can.”

“Owww, it hurts,” Joe whined as he struggled to move his eyelids. He slowly opened them to tiny slits and Dr. Martin opened them more. Peering in Joe’s eyes, Paul made his assessment and determined that the bandages should be replaced. Knowing this patient and his lack of patience regarding recovery from injuries, Paul decided upon the quickest means and methods to bring about the removal of the bandages.

“Joe, I’m afraid you’re going to have to wear the bandages a few days before I feel your eyes will begin to recover. We need to let them rest and heal for a while. You will have to rely on your Pa and brothers until I remove the bandages, understand?” Paul asked. He didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

“Fine, they hurt too much anyway,” Joe whisper. “Just let me go back to sleep,” he said with a slur in his voice. “Leave me alone.”

“I will certainly leave you alone when I’m finished with you, you impatient little thing,” Paul said chuckling at the pout on Joe’s face. “Do you feel sick right now, Joe?” Paul asked as he finished his work and patted his young patient on the arm.

“Mmmm, yes. I’ll just go to sleep,” Joe mumbled. He turned his head away from everyone and began to drift away. “Please, go away.”

The men in the room watched the battered young man as he settled down and went to sleep. They listened to Joe as he mumbled and repeatedly asked them to stop touching him, go away and leave him alone. Not sure if he was talking to the people in the room, Dr. Martin wanted to see if he was sleeping or awake.

“Joe, are you awake?” Paul asked in a whisper and received no response. “Joseph, can you hear me?” he asked and again, received no answer.

“I think he was asleep, but I’m not sure. Watch for his reactions when he wakes. We have to be prepared for his response when he begins to remember what happened to him in that alley. Some of the things he mumbled indicated his level of fear and apprehension. Joe will be fine, physically, but you have to be ready for the emotional damage he suffered. We won’t know what that is for a while and it may surface immediately or much later,” Paul said as he turned and looked at the other battered Cartwright. “Hoss, you need to get some rest, too. Joe has your Pa and brother to sit with him. Get to bed,” Paul ordered and smiled up at the big man hovering so close to the head of the bed.

“I will, Doc. Jest wanna make sure Joe’s all right,” Hoss said. The big man’s heart broke as he thought about what Joe experienced in that dark alley. “I jest don’t see why Regan felt the need to pound on Joe like this. Joe ain’t big as nothin’ and Regan was so . . . . .” Hoss said as he remembered last night’s fight. He shook his head to clear away the images of Joe at the hands of the powerful fighter. “It’s a wonder he didn’t kill ‘im.”

“Go back to bed, Hoss,” Adam said. “Joe’s going to be fine and you took care of Regan last night.”

“I’m going, I’m going. I don’t think I did enough,” Hoss mumbled as he smoothed Joe’s curls before leaving his bedside. “I didn’t do nearly enough and I have a mind to go find him and finish what I started,” he said leaving the room.

“You’ll do no such thing, young man. You just go to sleep and we’ll wake you for lunch,” Ben said as he chastised this over protective brother. He smiled and shook his head as he watched Hoss lumber out of the room with his big, powerful fists tucked into the front pockets of his pants.

“I ought to go find him and pound the daylights outta him . . . . . again,” was the last reply as Ben heard the door to the other bedroom in the suite slam shut. He knew then that Hoss was following the doctor’s instructions.

“We’re gonna have to keep our eyes on that one,” Ben said chuckling.   “If not, Paul, you’ll need to have another visit with John C. Regan.”

“Paul, is it safe to move Joe to one of other rooms?” Adam asked remembering that they had stripped the bed of its linen and blankets.

“Yes and Ben, you may want to get yourself cleaned up as well. You reek!” Paul answered and smiled as he left the room. “Oh, you Cartwrights will not worry my patience today. See you later this afternoon,” he said as he shook his head and left this family of men to their own vices.

Ben and Adam settled Joe in an adjoining room and began their vigil at his bedside. Paul had assured them that Joe would sleep for the remainder of the day and that they should have no problems until the next morning.

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

Ben watched as Joe tossed on the bed, moaning through his dream. His son had slept the entire day, waking briefly then drifting back to sleep. Ben and his other sons sat in the room and watched the young man sleep; fearful of leaving him alone. The sounds of fear and pain were clear as Joe fought an unseen monster. Ben took Joe’s hands and whispered quietly to him in hopes of calming his injured son.

“Joseph, you’re fine. Wake up for me, now,” Ben said. “Come on, wake up.” Ben rubbed the back of Joe’s hands as his son continued to cry out and struggle in his sleep. “Adam, get the basin. I think we may need it when Joe wakes. He’s tossing his head to much to not be sick,” Ben said. He lifted Joe from the pillows and held him close. This brought Joe to full wakefulness. “Joe, shhh. It’s me; you’re fine, shhh,” Ben said as he soothed his son’s fears.

“Pa?”

“Yes, son. Just stay here for a few minutes. I don’t want to move you too fast,” Ben said. Adam stacked the pillows behind Joe’s back and waited for his father to lay him down. Ben slowly lowered his youngest until he rested against the stack of pillows. “How do you feel, son? Do you feel sick at all?”

“All right. I don’t feel sick; I just hurt and I’m hungry,” Joe answered, touching the sore areas on his face. His father took his son’s hand down and patted them gently.

“Adam, take care of him for a while. I’m going to see about getting some breakfast up here,” Ben said as he stood and stretched. Spending the night in the chair made him a little stiff and sore. Some fresh air is what he needed and would include a walk to Roy Coffee’s office. As he opened the door to enter the hallway, Ben was greeted by Hop Sing and one of his many cousins.

“Good morning Mr. Cartlight. Hop Sing and Number 2 cousin bring breakfast for family. Hop Sing know that Number 3 Son hurt bad and bring good broth and medicine from Chun Li. Good Chinese medicine help Little Joe feel much better vely, vely fast,” the cook and family friend said as he bustled into the room.

“Well, Hop Sing I thank you for coming,” Ben said shaking his head as a stream of Chinese men entered the room carrying packages and containers of food. “This is a lot of food, Hop Sing.”

“Mr. Hoss and Mr. Adam here; they eat much food. Hop Sing bring vely much food. Mr. Hoss vely hungry. Hop Sing take care of Mr. Hoss,” he responded as he moved quickly through the suite. The Chinese cook barked orders to his countrymen in their native tongue and they began arranging the furniture in preparation of breakfast for the Cartwright family.

“Pa, I thought I smelled Hop Sing’s cooking,” Hoss said as he entered the room. “I knew I weren’t dreaming. Howdy Hop Sing. Boy am I glad to see ya. Look at them flapjacks, Pa,” Hoss said rubbing his hands together and smacking his lips. “Eggs, bacon, and ‘taters, too.   Mmmmm. Hey Adam!”

“Hoss, stop shouting or you’ll make your brother’s headache worse,” Ben said admonishing Hoss’ enthusiastic response to finding Hop Sing’s breakfast.

“He’s already complaining about that,” Adam said from the bedroom door. “Hop Sing, I think that broth you mentioned will be the thing Joe needs right now. I’m glad to see you.”

“Hop Sing take care of Number 3. You eat now.” Hop Sing entered the room and found his favorite Cartwright son with bandages over his eyes and around his ribs. The cuts and scratches on his face were visible and the bruising showed the damage done and the severity of the assault. “Hop Sing take care of Little Joe, now. You drink broth; has good medicine, make head stop spinning and you feel betta lickety split,” Hop Sing said as he spooned the broth into Joe’s mouth.

“I can do it myself. Thanks Hop Sing,” Joe said taking the cup and sipping noisily. “Where is everyone?” he asked as he tried to make his damaged lips work correctly. Small amounts of the healing broth landed on his chest and the bed linen.

“Hop Sing bring breakfast for family. When you feel betta, Hop Sing have breakfast for you. If you want more broth, Hop Sing have plenty. Little boy hurt bad. Big man attack you on street and pull into alley. Number 1 cousin see and tell Mr. Hoss and Mr. Adam. Hop Sing sorry you hurt,” he said as he touched Joe’s arm. “Hop Sing use special medicine to heal and make betta.”

“Thank you and tell your cousins I appreciate their help,” Joe said sipping the broth as quickly as his injured mouth would allow. To his amazement, the broth stopped the feeling of nausea and his stomach settled quickly. “Hmmmm, Hop Sing, that was so good. What was in it? I feel better already.”

“Good Chinese medicine work fast,” the family friend answered. Knowing the contents of the broth, Hop Sing watched while Joe began to relax and breathe easier.

I think I’ll go to sleep for a while.” Joe began drifting off to sleep when Hop Sing sat slowly on the side of the bed, watching as the young man attempted to find comfort on the unfamiliar bed.

“Joseph, the man who did this to you will see very few sunrises,” Hop Sing said. Gone was the Chinese accent that Joe had grown accustomed to over the years. It was replaced by a clear statement that brokered no argument.

Confused by the sound of his friend’s voice, Joe began reaching for an anchor that would let him know his was in the same place. “Hop Sing, is that you?” he asked reaching blindly into the air.

“Yes, Joseph. It is me. You go to sleep now and let me take care of everything. I will make you whole and dispatch the monster who thought it wise to hurt my son this way. Go to sleep,” Hop Sing said in perfect English. Holding the hand that sought the person he knew was there, Hop Sing watched Joe drift off to sleep and listened for the breathing that indicated that his loved one was resting. Moving to stand in front of the window, the China man made eye contact and nodded slightly at his cousin who waited across the street from the hotel. “He will not see another sunrise,” Hop Sing whispered as he returned to the chair beside the bed. Smoothing the covers over Joe, he silently brushed the wayward curl from his brow and patted the top of the young man’s head. “Just rest, Joseph. It is done.”

The cousin moved like a shadow down the street, passed several of Virginia’s citizens who ignored the him, as usual. He had a job to do that required contact with only one person.

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

“What was the last thing you remember, Joe?” Paul asked as he leaned closer to the boy while bandaging his eyes. Paul recalled the many events that found him caring for this young man over the last several years. Watching Joe struggle to remember, Paul gained more details about his patient’s injuries. He made a mental note of this response that indicated some memory loss.

“Ahmmm, I was with Miss Adah in her room and . . . . ohhh,” Joe said and Paul noted the blush of color that rose in Joe’s neck and the part of his face that was visible. “And, and, ahmm, with Hoss in the saloon. I woke up here with all this pain and darkness and I’m afraid,” Joe said as the pace of his breathing increased. “I don’t know what happened to me. Why don’t I know, Paul?” Joe asked as he became increasingly upset. “Pa, Pa,” Joe shouted as his fear began to take control.

“Joe, take it easy,” Paul said. “You can’t remember because you have a concussion. Your memory will return and it seems to me that the only thing you can’t recall is exactly what happened after you left the saloon,” Paul said as the door to the room swung open and Ben strode quickly to his son’s side with the two big brothers crowding the room.

“I’m here, Joseph. Calm down, now. Just breathe and take it easy. That’s it. Adam, get me some water for him and Hoss you find someplace to settle down,” he said taking charge as he always did.

The water felt cool on Joe’s parched lips and some spilled onto his bare chest.

Pa, what happened to me?” Joe asked. “How did I get hurt like this?”

“Joseph, we’ll talk about that later. Right now I want you to lay back and go to sleep. The important thing is for you to rest and recover your health,” Paul answered standing behind Ben Cartwright as he took care of his youngest. “I’ll be back later this evening before I turn in to check on you. If things look better in the morning, we may be able to let you go home. Two days resting here should be enough time for you to begin regaining your strength,” Paul said.

“Who hurt me like this, Pa? My body hurts all over,” Joe said as he relaxed and began feeling the injuries that he received at the hands of a vicious man. Small whimpers escaped his lips as he tried to settle into a position that would not require that he lay on the numerous bruises on his back.

“Can’t you give him something?” Adam asked. It was difficult for him to watch his brother in pain and this logical brother could not understand the need for his brother to suffer from his injuries.

“Not right now. I want to wait to see how he is this evening as far as the concussion is concerned. I don’t’ want to prescribe something that would continue making him sleep for extended periods of time. This evening at around 7:00, I will stop by and give him something to make him more comfortable and help him sleep through the night,” Paul explained as he checked the pocket watch he always carried with him.

“Pa tell me what happened to me, please.”

“We’ll talk about that later. Right now what you need to know is that your eyes will be fine as will the rest of you. Paul said he’ll take the bandages off tomorrow and we will take you home to rest in your bed. Your eyes are swollen and need to rest as does the remainder of that body of yours. Now take a sip of water and go back to sleep. Adam and I will be here when you wake up,” Pa said helping Joe take a drink of water.

“Where’s Hoss. I heard him a few minutes ago,” Joe said with a pronounced slur already forming. He could not figure out if he was sleepy or if it was the way his lips weren’t working.  “Hoss sounded kinda funny when he was here a few minutes ago.”

“Hoss had something he dealt with a couple of nights ago and he’s right here. There’s nothing wrong with him that some additional sleep won’t help. Oh, and you sound kinda funny yourself,” Adam said with a slight smile.

“That’s right, Punkin. Ole Hoss ain’t napping yet; he’s just fine. You gone ahead and rest now,” Hoss said as he lay his hand on the top of Joe’s head. “Go to sleep, little brother. Hoss took care of things real fine.” That was the last thing Joe heard as he drifted off to sleep and the last thing he felt was Pa’s arms around him, Adam squeezing his leg, and the gentle weight of Hoss’ hand as he smoothed the curly hair that he inherited from his mother. “I must be in bad shape,” was the last thought Joe had before he knew nothing else.

The Cartwright men left Joe sleeping soundly and moved their discussion to the outer room. They entered the ornately decorated parlor and Adam poured drinks for the three of them.

“Here, Pa. I think you could use this,” Adam said handing his father a drink of brandy to settle him down. “I know how you worry and fret over Joe and seeing him in this condition must be hard.”

“Yes, it’s extremely hard, especially when it was totally unnecessary. What was the point of injuring the boy the way he did?” Ben asked in frustration. “Will Joe always be a target of any man who is angry with me about something?” he pondered aloud as he paced in front of the fireplace. “I’ll be back in a while, boys. Take care of Joe. I just need to get some air,” Ben said as he grabbed his hat from the credenza near the door.

Shaking his head and watching his Pa leave the room, Hoss leaned back in the chair and thought about what his father said. Looking at Adam, he saw a light shine from his big brother’s eyes that let Hoss know that Adam was thinking the same thing.

“Well, Hoss, when Joe is back on his feet, there are some things we have to take care of,” Adam said rubbing his chin.

“You betcha. Joe’s gotta learn to take care of hisself better than either one of us. He’s still young, but old enough to come to town and move around without us following him. We gotta figure this one out, Adam, ‘cause somebody else could hurt ‘im bad again and he’s so small . . . .” Hoss said as his concern for his brother became the focus of his thoughts. Tears clouded the big man’s vision as he thought about his brother being defenseless again and in the hand of some brutal man.

“Settle down, Hoss. We’ll work out some things and see if we can’t help him with that,” Adam answered. “I’ve got a few ideas in mind to teach that little brother to properly handle himself in any situation.”

Ben Cartwright wandered down the dusty main street of Virginia City, with his thoughts back in the hotel bedroom with his youngest. He headed toward Roy Coffee’s office to have a chat with the lawman and his best friend.   His thoughts were interrupted by a call from the alley next to the sheriff’s office.

“Ben, I need to see you over here for a few minutes,” Roy shouted as he waved his friend over. Roy walked briskly to meet Ben in the middle of the street and taking him by the arm, led his friend to the office door. “You’ll never guess what I found about twenty minutes ago,” Roy said as he ushered Ben into the office.

“I don’t know, Roy. I only have my injured son on my mind right now. I just left Joe with his brothers and Hop Sing. Every time I look at my son, I can’t believe how that man abused him. Roy, I can’t stand to think about what Joe was feeling when that monster was pounding on him. Roy, I can’t . . . . .”

“Ben, I just found that monster, as you call him, dead in the alley,” Roy say taking his friend by the arm.

“What? Dead in the alley?” Ben questioned. “What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t shot or anything. He’s just dead. I’ll have Paul take a look at him to see if he can figure out what happened. Ben, where have you and your boys been for the last hour or so?” Roy asked. “The body’s still warm so this has happened just a short while ago,” he said.

“Do you think one of us left Joe’s side to kill John Regan in an alley? You know where we’ve been, Roy. We’ve been taking care of our youngest who was nearly beaten to death by that man.   I really don’t care what happened to him. My sons and I have been together since Saturday night, in that hotel room with Joe. Dr. Martin, Hop Sing, and several of his cousins are the only visitors we’ve had. Now if you don’t mind, I think you have work to do. But let me warn you, Roy, don’t come looking at me or my sons as suspects in the murder of that monster. We had our chance to kill him if we had a mind. I’m going back to my son.”

And with that final comment, the angered father opened the door, turned and fixed Sheriff Roy Coffee with a stare that would slay most men. He slammed the door, rattling the guns in the gun rack and headed back to the hotel. From the alley across the street, one lone Chinaman stood, stoically, and watched Hop Sing’s boss leave the sheriff’s office. He waited until Mr. Cartwright entered the hotel, then changed his location to the area across the street from the hotel room window. The Chinaman watched the curtain open, nodded curtly then moved silently up the street.

Hop Sing stood in the window looking down on the street below. Across the street stood one of his many cousins, who nodded his head slightly then walked up the street, raising no dust and making not a sound. “He will not see another sunrise,” Hop Sing whispered as he let the curtain fall back in place.

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

“Let me sleep; I’m not awake yet,” Joe said through the sleep that clouded his mind. He tried to open his eyes, but it didn’t work and fear grabbed the young man’s heart again. Pain was all he felt as Joe struggled to clear his head and open his eyes. His face felt as if it was too big and his head felt like a large stone from the river. “What’s wrong with me,” Joe shouted, fighting the hands that attempted to stop him from pulling the bandages from his eyes. “Let me go, don’t hurt me,” he shouted. “Pa, Pa!”

“Joseph, its Dr. Martin. Stop fighting, son,” Ben said.

“No,” he shouted back. “Take your hands off me; let me go!”

“Punkin, you got to settle down now,” came Hoss’ voice from somewhere in the room. “You gonna hurt yourself if you keep fighting.”

“Hoss, help me. I can’t get him off. He’s so heavy, Hoss, please,” Joe said. He suddenly felt weak and tired, with no energy left to fight the demon that had taken up residency in his mind.

“I’m here, Joe. Take it easy and let ole Doc here help ya, now,” Hoss said as he attempted to calm his brother.

“Joseph, I’m going to take the bandages from your eyes. I think that will keep you a little calmer each time you wake. I’m afraid you’re going to injure yourself if you wake up in this kind of struggle,” Dr. Martin said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them,” he said. As he recognized the voices in the room, Joe began to calm down and the rapid thumping in his chest began to diminish. When Joe regained control of his breathing, Dr. Martin carefully unwrapped the bandages that had kept him in the dark for two days.

“Open your eyes slowly now,” Dr. Martin said. “Let’s keep the room dark. Joe, your eyes will be very sensitive to light and it may take a while for them to adjust. By the time you go home tomorrow, you should be fine with just some minor sensitivity. Now let’s see what happens when you open your eyes.”

Joe slowly opened his eyes; following Dr. Martin’s instructions. The room was dark and the young man had a difficult time focusing his eyes on one particular thing. “Joseph, look directly at me, son,” Dr. Martin said as he gently held the sides of Joe’s face to assist him in focusing on the doctor’s face only. “How’s that? What does my face look like?” he asked.

“Blurry. Hazy. Like there’s smoke in the room,” Joe answered. “My eyes hurt.”

“That’s to be expected. They are still sore from the injuries and I’m sure the blurred vision will clear up over time. Ben, let’s keep him in dim light for the next hour or so and then gradually increase the brightness of the lamps. That will help when he leaves the hotel tomorrow morning. I want to see him early, then you can set off for home just after sunrise,” Paul said as he put his instruments away. “You’re going to be fine, son and I’ll see you early in the morning.”

“Are you feeling pain anywhere else Joseph?” Paul asked as he finished.

“Feeling pain? I feel nothing but pain,” Joe shot back. “I hurt all over. My face feels like it three times bigger than it’s supposed to be, my mouth hurts, and every breath I take hurts,” Joe complained. Paul looked at his patient with raised eyebrows because this one usually does not whine when he’s not well; he tries to hide it. Not this time. Joseph Cartwright was hurt and appeared, to the family doctor, to be very angry.

“Who did this to me? Why can’t I remember what happened?” Joe said as he covered his eyes.

“Joe, you have a concussion and experienced a trauma. That’s why you can’t remember what happened to you. Your memory will return as you continue to heal. Just give it time; you will need plenty of rest and care from your family until you are well,” Paul said. “Ben get him settled, feed him, and put him to bed. He’ll have a long day tomorrow,” Paul ordered as he left the room. “See you in the morning, boys.”

“Pa, tell me what happened to me,” Joe said shifting positions on the bed. He attempted to sit up on his own but found it difficult. Adam rushed to put pillows behind his brother’s back to prop him up in the bed and help Joe find a comfortable spot. “I wanna know who did this to me and why.”

“Joe . . . .” Ben started, but then thought twice about sharing the information Joe requested.

“You might as well tell ‘im,” Hoss said. “There ain’t no need keepin’ ‘im guessin’ and frettin’ when all we have to do is answer his questions.” This big brother, always protective, wanted to remove any thing that caused Joe any discomfort.

Taking a deep breath, Ben sat on the side of the bed and took Joe’s hand in his. The hand looked smaller to the angry father and he remembered Joe reaching for him Saturday night. Ben began rubbing small circles on the back of the hand he held. “Joe, does the name John C. Regan mean anything to you?” Ben asked.

Shaking his head made the dizziness return and Joe took a deep breath. “No, Pa, I don’t remember the name.” He took deep breaths in hopes that the room would settle and continued thinking about the name. Ignoring the slight throb in his head, Joe pushed through until he made a connection with the name that was a vague memory.

“Wait, wait. John. C. Regan. So you can tell your Pa,” Joe repeated slowly. A sharp intake of breath from the bed let the men in the room know that Joe was remembering the attack. “He hit me and hit me.   It was dark and I couldn’t see. He was beating me and hitting me so hard,” Joe said as he began drawing his knees to his chest. Ben pulled his son into his arms and held him close to calm the rising tide of fear. “I can’t see, Pa. I can’t see. Please, get him off,” Joe shouted. His breathing became erratic and labored as he fought against his father’s hands. His injured mind took Joe back to the darkened alley, increasing the young man’s fear. Joe increased his struggle to get away from the arms that held him; not knowing that it was his father. “No, no, no! Get off me, don’t, don’t,” Joe continued to cry out and fight his father. Hysteria was taking hold of the young man’s being and no amount of cajoling would calm him.

“Adam, get Paul back here,” Ben said as he tried to contain his son. Joe fought and attempted to throw Ben off by rolling from side to side on the bed. “Get off, let me go,” Joe shouted.

Adam ran swiftly out into the street; finding Dr. Martin about to enter his office. “Paul, we need you back at the hotel. Joe remembered what happened and is out of control,” Adam said as he turned and ran back toward the hotel.

“Adam, boy, is everything alright?” Roy asked as he watched Adam rush by him without even a hello. The sheriff watched as Paul walked quickly by him as well; Roy knew there was a problem with the youngest Cartwright. He did not follow the two men, as they would have their hands full and the room would not accommodate another person. He’d check with his friends later to make sure all was well.

Entering the room, Paul and Adam found Joe being held by his father. “It’s alright, son. We’re here and he won’t hurt you again,” Ben said. “Paul, I think he’s fine. Just take a look to make sure he hasn’t made his injuries worse.”

“I’ll be glad to do that, old friend, but you have to lay him down,” Paul said smiling at the scene in front of him. He knew that Joe would find comfort in his father’s arms and was relieved to see that a sedative would not be necessary. He examined his patient for the second time in less than an hour and found him none the worse for wear.

“He has completely exhausted himself, certainly. There’s been no further damage, but I want to give him a little something to help him sleep. His heart rate is elevated and we need to calm him down,” Paul said mixing a slight amount of powder in the glass of water on the bedside table. “Joseph, I want you to sip this slowly. It won’t make you sleep for long, but is just enough to help you rest right now.”

“Yes, Sir,” Joe responded sounding like a hurt little boy. Following the doctor’s directions and lying back on the pillows, Joe’s eyes slowly slipped closed. “Pa . . . . John C. Regan,” were the last words Ben heard as he watched his son relax a drift off to sleep.

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

The morning sunlight caused pain in Joe’s eyes as he awoke the next morning. Soreness in his body accompanied the grumble in his stomach, indicating that breakfast was needed.

“Good morning, Joe,” Hoss said. “We’ve got breakfast ready and soon as you finish we’ll bundle you up and head for home. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good. Can ya getta outta here for a few minutes. I gotta pee,” Joe said laughing. “Oww, don’t make me laugh; it hurts.”

“I ain’t makin ya laugh, youngin. You’s the one who woke up with a grin on his face. Musta been dreamin’ about girls.  Do ya need any help handling anything?”

“No, I can handle everything. Just git outta the room,” Joe laughed through the pain in his body. Quickly taking care of his needs, Joe eased himself back toward the bed. Holding on to the furniture every step of the way, he made his way back and sat down gingerly as the room tilted at an odd angle and the feeling of nausea returned full force.

“Well, Punkin, here’s that breakfast I promised ya,” Hoss said returning to the room with eggs, bacon, fried potatoes and a cup of milk.

“Hoss, no I can’t. . . .” were the only words Joe was able to say before the he began vomiting in his lap.

“Pa, I need some help in here,” Hoss shouted as he tried to find a place to put the tray.

“Hoss, take the tray out; it’s adding to the nausea,” Ben said as he placed a bowl in Joe’s lap. He placed a cool cloth on the back of Joe’s neck in hopes of relieving the sickness his son was feeling. The patriarch watched as the heaving took hold of his youngest until there was nothing left in his belly.   Removing the bowl he eased Joe back on the bed and continued bathing his forehead and chest. The cool cloth did what was necessary to help Joe regain control of the vomiting that interrupted the morning.

“I’m sorry, Hoss, Pa. I didn’t mean to make such a mess,” Joe said as he watched his family members strip him and the bed.  “I was feeling so much betta when I woke up,” Joe moaned. They made quick work of the cleanup and chattered with Joe to alleviate his embarrassment at having his father give him a quick wash up.

“You have nothin’ to apologize for, little brother. Ya cain’t help if you got sick. Now hush up and go back to sleep. We’ll getcha ready to go home in a few minutes,” Hoss said as he hauled the linen out of the room.

With Joe nodding off, Ben continued preparing their things to leave the hotel. Adam entered the room, announcing that the wagon to take Joe home was ready. Glancing sideways, he noted that Joe was sleeping and gave a slight smile.

“Has Sleeping Beauty there had his breakfast?” Adam asked. He wrinkled his brow as he noticed that Joe was dressed and sleeping without a cover on a bed with no sheets. Many questions crossed his mind and he finally settled on the reason for this odd arrangement. Adam’s father confirmed his suspicions.

“No, when Hoss brought the tray in your brother became violently ill. He made a mess of himself, the bed and the floor. I guess it just kinda wore the boy out because he fell asleep after we got him cleaned up and dressed,” Ben answered. “Let’s get this one home so we can take care of him properly,” he said as he headed for the door.

“Yes, sir. I think that’s the best thing for him right now. We’re ready when you are.”

“Hoss, come get your . . . .”

“Right here, Pa,” Hoss said brushing quickly pass his father to Joe’s beside. “Paul gave me this packet for Joe if we need it. He wants him to try to get home without taking anything but if he starts to feel sick, Paul said go ahead and give it to him.”

“Pa, with the condition of the road right now and the bouncing around in the wagon, don’t you think we may want to go ahead and take care of that now rather than later?” Adam asked.

“Let’s give him a try first,” Ben answered. “I have a plan in mind that may make the journey a little easier on him and avoid giving him the painkiller. Adam, you ride in the back with your brother and make sure his head is not bounced around and that he stays as still as possible. The canopy over the wagon should assist with that as well,” Ben explained.

“That’s fine, Pa. I had planned to do that anyway. Hoss can drive the team and I’ll sit with Joe,” Adam said. “Let’s go then.”

Hoss had Joe downstairs and in the wagon by the time Ben and Adam left the hotel. Adam crawled into the wagon and snuggled into the covers next to his brother. He placed his arm around Joe, drawing him close to him and rested his head on top of Joe’s curls. Adam smiled as he remembered times gone by when Joe could only be comforted when held by his big brother. “It’s amazing how things change and how they stay the same,” he thought aloud.

“Hmmm, Adam. This feels so good,” Joe said as he snuggled deeper into his brother’s embrace. Taking a deep breath, Joe inhaled the aroma of Bay Rum that took him back many years. He just held on to his brother’s shirt and relished the feeling of security, warmth, and comfort. The wagon lurched and the Cartwrights headed for home.

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

“Little Joe room ready for him. Hop Sing have good medicine to help heal fast,” Hop Sing said as he rushed out of the kitchen to meet the wagon.

“Thank you Hop Sing. I just want something to eat and some water,” Joe said. Adam helped him from the wagon, preparing to catch his brother if needed. He watched Joe walk slowly toward the front door and saw his brother’s knees buckle. Adam caught Joe before he hit the ground and very easily swung him into his arms and hauled him upstairs.

“Not quite ready for that, little brother,” Adam said as he carried Joe to his room.

“I can walk, Adam,” Joe whined.

“You know, you’ve been saying that to me since you were two years old and yet today, you can’t walk,” Adam smiled as he teased Joe. “I don’t mind, brother. You ain’t heavy.”

“What’s the matter, Punkin? Couldn’t ya make it up stairs?” Hoss asked. “Adam I coulda brought him up.”

“I got him, Hoss. It’s my turn to carry him a bit,” Adam said as he laid Joe on the bed. The two brothers made quick work of stripping Joe down and sliding a night shirt over his head.

“I wanna bath before I go to bed,” Joe said. “I’m not sleepy at all.”

“Hop Sing have bath ready for Little Joe. Hop Sing always know what boy needs and what Number 3 wants,” came a response from the bedroom door. Joe smiled the best he could and winked his good eye at his friend.

“You two heard the man. My bath awaits,” Joe said.

“Well, I guess you’s feelin’ a might betta. Getting’ kinda cheeky, ain’t he, Adam?” Hoss said putting on an air of hurt feelings. With that, Hoss scooped his brother up and carried him downstairs to the bathhouse.

“Go away, now. Hop Sing take care of Number 3. Use good medicine to make heal fast. Will call when bath finish.”

Glancing over their shoulders as they left, the two brothers realized Joe was in good hands as they watched him settle down in the warm bath. Hop Sing busied himself with different Chinese herbs and medicines to help Joe’s recovery. With a sigh, Adam closed the door behind him and followed Hoss to the kitchen.

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

 

“To answer the question you asked at the hotel, Joseph, I knew him. His name was John C. Regan as you said. He was a very jealous friend of Miss Menken and a dangerous man. He attacked you to get even with me or to draw me into a fight with him. We had words earlier in the week when he warned me to stay away from Adah and threatened to do me harm if I did not. I knew that he was a brutal with his fists and I refused to fight him; letting him know, instead, that I would prefer to use my gun when dealing with him. So to get me to fight, he attacked and brutalized you in that alley. Your brothers would not let me tangle with him; Hoss chose to do so while Adam physically restrained me,” Ben explained with his head down, remembering the condition of his youngest as he lay on the settee. He seemed to be reliving the events of a few days ago and the pain and anger were visible to all in the room.

“Hoss fought him? Is he hurt? Pa that man hit so hard. Did he hurt Hoss?” Joe asked, fearful for his brother’s safety. Since regaining his senses, Joe had not noticed his brother’s injuries.

“Your brother is a little bruised here and there, but he took care of Regan that’s for sure. Humph, that Hoss is one tough customer, you know that? I thought Regan would put him down but Hoss rallied when Adam started shouting instructions and he brought John C. Regan to his knees,” Ben said proudly.

“Yea, Punkin, I’m fine,” Hoss said as he sat on the other side of the bed. Joe turned and took notice of his brother’s face and the bruises that colored Hoss’ face were evidence of how his big brother took care of things.  “Hoss, he hurt you, too,” Joe said.

“He did at that. It took all I had to take him down, but down he went. And he’ll never put his hands on you again. No one will ever hurt you like that without having to answer to me. As a matter of fact, I ain’t lettin’ you out of my sight anymore when we’re in town,” he said protectively. Hoss drew his brother into his arms like he did when Joe was a small boy, but this time Hoss felt Joe tremble in his arms.

“Let me go. Let me go now,” Joe said as the shaking worsened. He felt as though he was being held down by the monster that attacked him and began struggling to get free. “Let me go, get off, get off!” Joe shouted.

“What’s the matter, Joe? It’s me, Hoss.”

“Get away from me, get away,” Joe said holding his arms out in front of him as Hoss retreated.

“Pa, I didn’t mean to hurt him, “Hoss said as he looked to his father in confusion and dismay.  “Pa . . . . . Joe, I’m sorry,” he said as tears formed in his eyes. Hoss did not understand his brother’s fear of him and it broke his heart to see that the brother he adored did not want him near. Joe, whose comfort relied upon the closeness of each family member; who drew his strength from them, did not want him near. Looking at Adam, Hoss’ face displayed the pain of the situation.

“It’s not you, Hoss,” Adam answered attempting to ease his brother’s pain. “Joe’s probably afraid of everything right now. Let’s give him some room for a few minutes. Pa, call me if you need help,” Adam said patting Hoss on the back. I’ll take care of this one. Let’s go Hoss.”

“I’ll see you later, Joe,” Hoss said looking down at his brother. Joe buried his head deeper in his father’s shoulder and held on with all in him in hopes of stilling the fear.

“Don’t’ go; I’m sorry, Hoss. I wish I was like you or Adam. I felt so small and weak. Regan hit me in the back first and I couldn’t breathe. Then he started just pounding on me and pounding on me and I couldn’t stop him. Everything around me was dark; I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t make him stop. It hurt so bad; he was sitting on my chest and I couldn’t . . . . . .get him off. . . . he pinned my arms . . . . and kept hitting me,” Joe cried in his father’s arms and Ben rocked him like a child. The feeling of safety was what he needed and his father’s strength was enough to chase away the fear.

“I’m sorry, Hoss,” he said again. Ben handed his son a kerchief from the bedside table. Blowing his nose and gently wiping his sore, swollen eyes, Joe righted himself and his father eased him back down on the pillows. Hop Sing came bustling in to bring Joe’s lunch and the conversation changed quickly as Hoss and Pa focused on getting the patient to eat.

The evening ended with Hoss snoring in the chair beside the bed; refusing to leave Joe, who just watched. Joe thought about how lucky he was to have brothers who would fight for him when he couldn’t defend himself. Adam walked into the room, smiled at the snoring brother and eased himself down on the side of the bed.

“How are you feeling, Joe?” Adam asked rubbing his brother’s leg. “You know, Paul and Pa paid attention to your abdomen and your head, but I saw that horrible bruise between your shoulders. Lean forward and let me take a look at it,” he said as he assisted Joe with changing position on the bed. Adam poked and prodded his brother’s back and made noises that sounded like he was in pain. “Did any of that hurt?” Adam asked laying Joe back down.

“Just sore and if you don’t poke it, it don’t hurt,” Joe smiled, hurting his bruised and split lips. “Adam, when I’m on my feet again, I want to be better at using my gun to defend myself against men like Regan. I know I’m a little smaller than most men around here and I can’t be a target whenever you and Hoss are not around to protect me. I don’t want to always need someone to protect me anyway,” he said letting the anger raise its head again. “I thought I could take care of myself pretty well ‘til that man dragged me into that alley. Adam, he straddled my chest and just . . . . .”

“Joe, it’s all right,” Adam said as he pulled the youngest Cartwright into his arms. “Just settle down and get some sleep.”

Huh, what’s going on? Is Joe alright?” Hoss asked as he woke from the nap he had taken while sitting with Joe.

“Yea, Joe’s alright. He just can’t sleep because of the racket you’re making,” Adam said. “Go to bed, I’ll get Joe settled.”

“Well, you make sure you call me if he needs anything. Good night, Punkin,” Hoss said as he tweaked Little Joe’s toe.

“Good night, Hoss,” Joe responded with a slight smile. “Adam, where is Regan? Is he still in town?” Joe asked.

“Well, don’t you worry about that right now,” Adam answered pulling the quilt up to Joe’s chin. Patting the top of his brother’s head, he smiled kindly in an attempt to divert Joe’s mind from the current situation. “That’s not something you need to be concerned about. That’s been taken care of and you don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“Stop babying me!” Joe shouted and pushed Adam away. “What does that even mean? I won’t have to worry about him.” In a flash, Joe flipped the covers off and stumbled to stand in front of the mirror. For the first time since the attack, he saw his reflection and was horrified at the condition of his face. “My God, Adam. Look what he to me.” Dropping his head, Joe turned away from the mirror and let the tears roll down his face. All of you have babied me and looked out for me and now I can’t take care of myself,” he shouted. “Look at me, Adam. Look at what he did to me!” Joe let go of all the anger, fear and frustration at one time and swept everything off the dresser and onto the floor. Glass flew everywhere when the cup and saucer hit the floor splashing Adam’s coffee against the wall. “I can’t tell you everything he did to me in that alley, Adam. I’m so ashamed, I can’t tell you,” he cried as his brother pulled Joe close to his chest. Pa and Hoss came charging into the room and witnessed Adam attempting to calm the angry young man.

“What’s wrong?” Pa said.

“Punkin you ain’t hurt are ya?” was Hoss’ question. “What happened, Joe? Didya fall?” he asked.

“I’m here, buddy. I’m here. Just let it all out. I know you’re angry and you should be. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Joe, nothing at all. I’ll help you anyway I can; for anything you need,” Adam said. “He’s fine, Pa. Joe just threw a big temper tantrum, but he’s alright,” Adam answered as he held Joe and rubbed his back. Adam just stood there in the middle of the floor holding on to Joe as he tried to gather himself; like an anchor for a ship in the middle of a storm. He was what the youngest needed and Joe knew the Adam was his rock.

“Adam, I’m so sorry. I made a mess of the floor. Pa, I’m afraid of him. I don’t know where he is. What if he wants to hurt me again,” Joe sobbed as Adam held him. “I, I can’t live in fear of every big man who threatens me. But that’s how I feel right now. What if another man challenges me or hits me; what can I do to take care of myself?” Joe asked sounding like the little boy being bullied during recess. In Joe’s mind, he felt like he had taken a bad beating from the school yard bully and his big brother took care of the menace.

“Regan is dead, Joe,” Ben said. “Roy told me that John Regan was found dead in an alley the night before we left town.”

“What happened to him? One of you didn’t . . . .” Joe asked pulling himself from this brother’s arms.

“No, son. We were all working to make you comfortable and provide the protection you needed. At that point, Hoss had taken care of the man for us and we were no longer concerned with him,” Ben answered. “We don’t know what happened or how. Besides, that’s not for you to worry about now; we have to make you healthy again.”

Joe looked at his brothers, who nodded in agreement with their father’s decree. There was something, though, a small something in the back of his mind that bothered the young man, but he could not put his finger on it. There was a small thing that he just couldn’t figure out.

“Get some rest, Joe. After that spit of temper you just threw, I know you have to be tired. We’ll see you for lunch. If you feel up to it, maybe you can join us at the table. Pa, what do you think?” think we might give that a try. Take a nap and I’ll see you later, son,” Ben said as he brushed the curls aside that lay gently on his son’s forehead. As he turned to leave, Hop Sing padded quietly into the room.

“I take care of mess little boy make on floor,” Hop Sing said as Ben left the room.

“Thank you, Hop Sing.”

“Hop Sing listen at door when you speak with brothers this morning. Hop Sing and my people know about living among big men and always being afraid of what they could do to small Chinese men. Hop Sing help Little Joe with how to defend against bigger man. Hop Sing help make small body strong and mind sharp. Big man not hurt Little Joe again.

“Thank you, Hop Sing, for wanting to help me,” Joe said as his eyelids drifted closed to the sound of the scurry of Hop Sing’s feet as he picked up the glass from the floor. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up, Hop Sing. You don’t have to do that.”

“Hop Sing will take care of Number 3 Son. I don’t like to see you hurt. I know about living in places with very big men; very dangerous men. I will take care of you, Little Joe; make your body strong, and your mind sharp. I will cook good food for you; make you heal fast then teach you to defend yourself against a bigger opponent,” Hop Sing whispered.

Joseph Cartwright nodded off to the sound of his friend’s different voice that sounded less like a Chinaman. “Hop Sing, is that you?” he said as he listened to the odd sounding voice. That was the small thing that came back to his mind earlier. Hop Sing could speak perfectly good English.

 

After three weeks of convalescing, Joe found himself on light work details around the yard. He was back to normal with a little stiffness and soreness in his body that prevented heavy lifting or long work hours. Joe’s damaged ribs made riding out of the question; so he was firmly attached to the house and barn all day. It was one of those days that Joe worked in the tack room, organizing the riding gear used by the family. He worked with his back to the door, enjoying the view out the window of Cochise and Spade playing in the corral.

“Pretty soon I’ll be out there playin’ with ya, Cooch,” Joe said aloud through the window. His horse responded with a toss of his head and a loud whiny. Joe did not hear the approach of Tim Wilson, the new hand Adam hired when he was injured.

“Hey, boy, where’s ya brotha at?” Wilson said.

Joe turned suddenly, causing a stabbing pain to lance through his chest. He felt the color drain from his face. His breathing increased as he backed away from the man, holding his arms out in front as if to push the intruder away. The room began to spin as Joe continued to back into the corner of the tack room.

Tim Wilson saw the fear rise in the young man and tried to settle him down like he would a skittish colt. “I ain’t aiming to hurt cha none, boy,” Tim said. He moved closer to Joe who stared in fear as memories of the attacked surfaced and pulled him into the darkness of the alley.

“Get away from me,” Joe shouted.  His voice rose in volume as he screamed out his fear. Tim Wilson slowly backed away from the terrified young man, not understanding what had upset him. “Get away, don’t hurt me, please,” Joe continued verbalizing his fear as Hop Sing ran into the barn.

“Get, brothers; go now and hurry!” came a direct order from the diminutive cook. Looking over his shoulder, making sure they were alone, Hop Sing approached the cowering young man. “Joseph,” he said calmly. “Joseph, listen to me. We are alone and no one here will harm you.” The family cook spoke calmly in English then began speaking to the young man in Chinese. Joe began responding in Chinese and English, as tears streaked his face and sobs shook his small frame.

“Joe,” Adam said as he entered the barn. “Joe, I’m here. Take it easy, I’m here.” Adam reached out for his brother and Joe turned and walked into the security he needed. His big brother held him close and Joe melted into the warmth and protection provided by the strength of the man he knew loved and cared for him.

“Adam,” Joe said as he struggled to gain control of his emotions. Tears flooded his eyes and coursed down his face. His body trembled and shook under the onslaught of emotions.

“Take it easy, now. Hop Sing . . . .”

Before Adam could finish the request, Hop Sing handed him a ladle full of cool water. Adam helped his brother take slow sips from the ladle, noticing how Joe’s shoulders trembled.

Let’s get you to the house,” Adam said turning Joe toward the door. As they walked to the house, Adam noticed how wary Joe was and how he scanned the yard as though he was afraid. The older man guided his charge in to the safety of the house they both knew and closed the door. Adam watched as Joe sank down on the settee and dropped his head in his hands. The small, shaking shoulders was testament that Joe still had not regained full control. All Adam could do was sit beside his brother and place a comforting arm around his shoulders.

“Easy, now. Just let it all out, Joe,” Adam said as he pulled his brother close to him. “I’m here and everything will be fine.” Joe looked up into the eyes that he had relied upon all his life.

“I don’t think so, Adam. He scared me and I just fell apart right in front of him. I’m so ashamed. How can I face the men with them knowing what happened?” Joe said. He leaned into his brother until they were both leaning back against the settee. Adam just pulled his brother even closer to him and held Joe even tighter.

“Don’t let that worry you, Joe. We’ll take care of that when the time comes. Right now, I want you to calm down, all right?” Adam said rubbing the frightened young man’s back in small circles. He smiled remembering the number of times his brother needed this kind of support throughout their lives. Turning, Adam kissed the dampened curls on Joe’s forehead and closed his eyes.

Hop Sing walked quietly into the room and saw the two brothers resting quietly on the settee. Adam was asleep and holding his sleeping brother close to his chest. This brought back memories from years ago. Shaking his head and smiling gently, the cook covered the two sleeping brothers with a blanket and quietly left the room.

 

 

“Joe, Hoss and I will just have to teach you to use what you have. I think we could teach you to use a left hook that would put any man on his rump,” Adam said smiling. “We sorta felt you might feel a little unsure of yourself after the attack and yesterday proved us right. Little brother, we have a plan. First, we’ll have to put some muscle on that small frame of yours, some speed in that left handed draw, develop a left hook, and you are going to be just fine. So we start right now by getting some breakfast in you. I’ll ask Hop Sing to make sure you eat the right things. Hoss and I will do everything we can to beef you up a little bit and we’ll have fun doing it, too,” Adam said as he began laying out a plan to help his brother feel safer in the world.

“All right, Adam. I’ll do what you and Hoss tell me to do. Thanks for wanting to help me and I’ll do everything you say,” Joe said smiling.

“Now that’s something ole Hoss has gotta see. YOU do whatever WE say. Did I hear you right, youngin’?” Hoss asked as he grinned and rubbed his chin. “Let me see, I gotta figure out some things. This might be whatcha brother and I’s been waiting for for a long time,” he teased.

“Don’t you go getting’ ahead of yaself, Hoss,” Joe said taking up the banter. “This don’t mean I’ll be doing your chores. Adam, tell him,” Joe said looking for safety from his brother.

“Now, boys, we’ll just have to work things out a bit,” Adam said winking at Hoss. They both knew they planned to work their little brother quite a bit harder than usual and could not keep the smiles from their faces.

As his brothers promised, Joe’s training began that afternoon and continued for months. Hop Sing cooked special meals for Joe and packed his lunch with food that he didn’t give the other two brothers. Hoss and Adam gave Joe all the heavy lifting they felt he could handle and sat and watched him struggle to move things that he couldn’t lift before. The young man tossed more cattle during branding season than did his two brothers and they pushed him harder each day. The changes in Joe’s body were visible and his level of confidence returned.

“Joseph, I want you to come to town with me today. I think you need to do a little shopping, especially for shirts and pants. For some reason, yours are too tight and Hop Sing is complaining that he is constantly having to repair your trousers and shirts because you tear them every day,” Pa said at breakfast. “I’m not sure what is going on with you, I think you’re a little too old for a growth spurt.” He sipped his coffee as if he was making a casual statement. Ben was fully aware of what was happening with Joe, but continued to pretend that he did not know.

“Yes, Sir,” Joe said as the heat rose in his face. He did not look up at those two brothers; he could hear their snickers from his seat. “I’ll go saddle the horses.”

“Be careful that you don’t split those pants, Joe. I don’t know if Hop Sing fixed the ones you ripped yesterday,” Hoss said and laughed so loud Joe knew they heard him in Virginia City.

“Hoss, maybe you should let him borrow a pair of yours. Or do you think they’re too small for him?” Adam said as he joined Hoss in teasing their brother. “I think our efforts may be paying off. The little one is starting to carry a little more bulk, don’t you think?”

Gathering his hat and holster from the credenza, Joe listened as they talked about their work on building him up a bit and knew they were right. Joe, too, noticed how much muscle he was carrying and his arms and legs were so much stronger. Each night, Joe noticed the changes in his body as he prepared for bed. The tightness in his belly and the muscles there were visible. His legs were stronger and thicker. Joe noted how round the muscles in his shoulders were and the shape of his arms. There didn’t seem to be much fat left on him at all, he thought every time he took a look at his body. Those brothers of his had worked it all off and replaced it with strong, hard muscles.

“That’s fine, you two lunkheads. I’ve got the day off with Pa in town, shopping, we’ll have lunch and dinner at the hotel, I’ll check out the new girls in town and get me some new clothes to boot. See you after dinner. Be ready in a few, Pa.”

Ben laughed aloud at the banter between his three sons; thankful that Joe had regained his health. “Let me give these two their work for the day, Joseph, and I’ll be right out.”

It was great to get away from the ranch for a day. The ride in with his Pa was pleasant and easy. Joe had not been to town since the incident with Regan so he was a little nervous about being there.   “Pa, do you think many people know what happened to me the last time I was in town?” he asked quietly.

“A few of them do. There were men in the saloon when Hoss took Regan on. We didn’t say much or discuss why the two men were fighting,” Pa answered. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, son.”

“I hope you’re right, Pa,” Joe said as he felt the apprehension surge through him, taking his breath away. Joe shrugged his shoulders to relax a bit, hoping to dismiss the fear that was building inside him. The young man and his   father continued their ride to Virginia City at an even pace, stopping every now and then to enjoy the scenery. Ben understood and noted the fear on his son’s countenance and took a leisurely pace as they moved closer to town. As time progressed, Ben gauged Joe’s mood and noted the relaxed appearance on his son’s face. Ben decided it was time that they push on to their destination. By the time they arrived on the edge of town, Joe was at ease and Ben laid out the plans for the day.

“Joseph, I’ll meet you at the hotel at noon for lunch. Pick up what you want or need. It doesn’t matter how much. Just replace the clothes for work, church, whatever. You may also want to look at ordering a new suit and shirt for special events. No, son, I’m thinking the two of us could find a reason to visit San Francisco for a few weeks next month. So maybe we could wait and order suits from the tailors there,” Pa said knowing the reaction he would get from his youngest.

“Whatever you say, Pa. The tailors in San Francisco are so much better and I’ll get a chance to see the new styles. I‘ll wait on the suits. See you at noon, Pa,” Joe said as he left his father standing in front of the bank. San Francisco with his father next month sounded like a wonderful idea and the thought of having his father to himself for a while added a little extra bounce to Joe’s step as he headed to the mercantile.

Purchasing the things he needed took Joe longer than usual. He had to try different pants to find the size that fit. They weren’t a perfect fit as they were a little shorter than Joe liked and the wrong color, but they would do. He purchased different color pants from the black that he usually wore. The young man selected tan pants and matching tan shirts. He also found a green jacket that he thought looked pretty good.

“So, I’ll look great even when I’m tossing cows and busting broncs,” Joe chuckled aloud. Grateful that he was alone and no one heard his vain comment, he preened a little more in the mirror; admiring the strength reflected back from the mirror. He found everything he needed and even threw in a new pair of boots, a tan Stetson, hair tonic to rule the mess of curls on his head, and a few other things he just wanted. His Pa was being generous and Joe didn’t want to let him down. He picked up some candies and a book about cattle breeding for Hoss and a new art book for Adam.

“Thanks for your help this morning, Mr. Dawson. I’ll be back before I leave town to pick up my packages,” Joe said as he prepared to meet his father for lunch; he didn’t want to be late on his first visit in town.

“Sure, Little Joe. Tell your Pa that his order will be in next week. I plan to have some of the boys bring it out when it arrives. The extra pants and jackets you ordered should get here about the same time. Have a good afternoon now,” Mr. Dawson replied from behind the counter.

“Thank you, sir. Please say hello to Mrs. Dawson for me and you have a good day, too,” Joe said as he left the store to go meet his father. He wanted to make sure he kept the schedule his father set for the day.

Leaving the store, Joe ran into Willis Turner. Turner was a bully when they were in school and gave the youngest Cartwright the devil on more than one occasion. He was two years older than Joe and much taller than the last time the two young men tangled in the school yard. Turner had been sent to prison a few years ago for robbing stores in Placerville and Joe guessed they let him out.

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t Little Joe Cartwright. It’s been a while, boy.” Turner said with a sneer on his face and putting emphasis on the little in Joe’s nickname; just like when they were in school.

“How are you, Turner? It has been a while. I’m sorry I don’t have time to chat, gotta meet my Pa for lunch.” Joe tried to step around Willis who stood directly in front of the smaller man.

“Wait a minute, Cartwright,” he said grabbing Joe’s arm. “You still think you too good to speak to the likes of me, don’t cha? Just like when we was in school. High and mighty Cartwright ain’t changed a bit,” Turner sneered as he looked down at Joe.

Joe felt a surge of energy move through him and he tried to control what he was feeling. “Let me go, Turner. I don’t want any trouble,” Joe said. His body trembled as the energy continued to increase. “Control it, Joseph,” came Hop Sing’s voice inside his head. “Control the energy and push it through your hands,” were the directions given by the Chinese cook when he worked with the young man at home.

“Just let me go on my way. I don’t want any trouble, Turner,” Joe said as he tried to talk his way out of the situation. “I’m just going to meet my father, so let go of my arm.”

“You telling me what to do, boy. I’ve spent the last two years of my life having someone tell me what to do. I ain’t about to take it from some sniveling, rich man’s brat like you,” Turner said.

Joe took a deep breath to settle himself and began remembering what Hop Sing taught him. He saw Turner as he raised his fist to strike and all Joe could see was John C. Regan. All of Hop Sing’s teaching came to his mind as Joe blocked the fist and punched Turner with the left hook he and Adam developed. All their teaching combined with the pain and fury over the last beating he took combined and Joe unleashed all on Willis Turner. By the time his Pa reached the fight, Joe and Turner were trading punches in the middle of the street with Turner taking the worse from Joe. The last blow Joseph Cartwright landed was the left hook again and it left Turner lying flat on his back at Joe’s feet.

“Joseph!” Ben shouted as he ran toward his son. He paused briefly and looked down in awe at Willis Turner who was still on his back with his eyes closed. “Are you all right, son?” Ben asked as he grabbed his son’s arm. He felt the tremors that coursed through his son as Joe worked to bring himself under control.

“Mr. Cartwright, that Turner boy started with Joe. I heard Joe trying to talk his way outta that fight but Turner was having none of it,” one man said. “Turner grabbed your boy by the arm and threw the first punch,” he said excitedly.

“Yea, he’s been spoiling for a fight since he got to town and I think your boy there gave Willis Turner what he was asking for,” another said. “Hey fellas, let’s go back to the saloon. This is one fight we’ll talk about for a long time. Turner threw the first punch at that little ‘un and Joe took his head right off with the last one!” he laughed.

Little Joe Cartwright ain’t so little no more!” one man said as they all chattered and headed for the saloon.

“Y’all betta watch out for that left hook he’s got!”

“Did ya see Turner’s feet leave the ground when the boy punched him? Ain’t never seen nothing like it!”

“Ben, I heard it all. Take care of Joe and stop by the office before you leave town,” Roy said. He had followed Ben up the street and saw the last punch Joe threw. “Joe, I don’t know what to say, son. You look a lot better than the last time I saw you,” Roy smiled and tipped his hat. “Now don’t go throwing that left hook around too much. I may have to lock you up,” Roy laughed.

Ben took Joe by the arm and led him up the street to the hotel. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Joe answered. His voice was trembled and his hands continued shaking.

Taking him inside the hotel, Ben got a room on the first floor, giving his son the chance to settle down and clean up a bit. He ordered lunch and helped Joe with the cut above his eye.

“I’m sorry, Pa. I tried not to fight him . . . .” Joe started; his voice still trembled.

“There’s no need for you to apologize for defending yourself. I was surprised to see Willis Turner in the condition I found him. Joe that was a strong punch I saw you throw and I hate to say this and smile, but you did a good job out there. Fine job,” Pa said smiling pulling Joe to him by the back of his neck.

“I can’t live here without being able to take care of myself,” Joe said. “All the work Adam, Hoss, and Hop Sing put me through helped, I guess.”

“Well, it seemed you got all the right kinds of help. We can talk later when we get home. Let me clean you up a bit,” Pa said as he took a cloth and began wiping the blood from a small cut on Joe’s forehead that kept bleeding. “We may need to have Paul check to see if needs stitching, son.”

A knock at the door interrupted their discussion and Roy Coffee entered the room. “Joe, Turner is locked up in jail for the rest of the day. I won’t release him until tomorrow, giving you and your Pa the opportunity to finish your business in town without worrying about him. The condition you left him in, I don’t think you have much to worry about anyway,” he said. “By the way, Joe, I stopped by the mercantile and picked these up for you. Dawson said you chose these earlier today and I feel you might need them to get outta this room. During the fight, Joe, you split the seat of your pants,” Roy smiled as he placed the packages on the bed.

Joe felt the heat of blush rush to his face as he reached for the tear in his trousers. It wasn’t as bad as he thought and fortunately, he chose to wear long johns under his too small pants this morning.

“Pa, can I have the room, please?” Joe asked somewhat embarrassed. He turned his backside away from the two men and dropped his head to keep them from seeing the redness that covered his cheeks.

“Why, of course, son. I will meet you down in the lobby when you’re ready. If these are all the things you purchased from the mercantile, you might as well clean up and change completely. I think everything you’re wearing has seen better days. Including those boots,” Ben said as he and Roy left the room.

“After that show in the street, I bet his hat is too small, too,” Roy laughed.

Joe could hear them laughing as they went down the hall. He wasn’t too sure his self-image could take another hit today, so he took his time cleaning up and preparing for the ride home. Joe unwrapped the packages and dressed himself from head to toe in his new clothes. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Joe was again, pleased with what he saw. The new duds suited him fine and except for the bruises and marks on his face, Joe felt that he cut a handsome figure. Smiling to himself, the young man shook his head and tossed the damaged clothes in the can in the room. Placing his new Stetson hat on his head at a rakish angle, he noted that the bruises made him look more grown up; even a little bit dangerous.

Joe smiled, nodded his head and left his old, fearful self in the waste can with the damaged clothes. No longer would he be easily intimidated by others and feel defenseless in situations that required him to fight. A new, more confident Joe Cartwright emerged from the battle with Willis Turner and would grace the streets of Virginia City for years to come.

 

 

Tags:  ESA, ESB, ESH, ESJ, Family, JAM, Joe / Little Joe Cartwright, JPM, Paul Martin, Roy Coffee, SAS, SJS