Chapter Six

Sounds mingled in the darkness and his mind had long since given up trying to chase them. The flames licked at his face and he tried desperately to turn from them. Something held him fast and he wanted to shout. To cry out for somebody to come, but his mind couldn’t find the name he wanted. Somewhere in the depths of the darkness he knew the truth. If he called the name, his brother wouldn’t come. He was already dead. Harrison had already killed Adam and left him lying in the dirt somewhere.

Ben traced a finger down his son’s cheek and waited for a response. For a moment he had thought that Joe was coming to, but once again he was sorely disappointed. It had been at least twenty minutes since they had caught up to Adam and his heart was still pounding. When he first caught sight of Adam stumbling up a rocky incline with his youngest brother’s body in his arms, Ben had thought his heart may stop in his chest. There was no sign that Joe was still alive and he could not recall seeing his son so still and lifeless before. Even when he was sick, Little Joe was somehow still in motion.

“Come on, Son. Just a little more.” He wrapped his thumb and finger across the bottom of Joe’s jaw as Hoss slowly dribbled water from the canteen. It was what Adam had been doing repeatedly and he’d said it was the only way to get water into Joe and keep it there. Ben knew only too well the dangers of dehydration and for somebody of such small stature it was an even greater danger. He could feel the heat radiating off Joe’s skin and was alarmed at the lack of sweat. It meant he was dangerously close to the edge and Ben prayed he wasn’t about to fall right over it.

Eventually Ben lifted his son into his arms and moved off once again towards where they had left the horses. Adam was barely a hand’s width from his father’s side and he kept a close eye on Joe’s face. His gut was churning with fear as Joe had not uttered a sound or shown a hint of life since he’d found him. If it were not for the raspy intake of breath, he would have thought that Joe was already gone.

He had no idea of the passage of time as they finally reached the horses. Hoss and Carl rounded up the various ones that had wandered in search of grass and Adam helped his father get Joe onto his horse before climbing up behind him. The other three hands that had been with them to search the canyon had already been sent on ahead to fetch Doc Martin and alert the sheriff to call off the search. Ben took the reins and wrapped an arm around his son’s chest. As Joe dropped back against him, Ben found himself praying under his breath. He was terrified his son was not going to make it back to the ranch in time to need Paul’s help.

Paul Martin had spent many hours patching up the youngest of Ben’s boys, but never like this. He had smiled when Joe relayed how he just had to find out what the view was like from the top of a tree and he’d slipped on the way down, breaking his arm. He had outright laughed after pulling prickly pear spines from his fingers after Joe’s outrageous explanation about chasing a pair of rabbits and not seeing the huge cactus in front of him. He had spooned more than his fair share of medicine into the boy over the years, but none of it compared to what he saw now. The child on the bed was close to death and he wasn’t sure of his ability to pull him back. He didn’t need the sordid details to see the injuries for himself and he found his jaw clenched in anger. As he wrapped a strip of clean linen around Joe’s left wrist, Paul felt himself struggling to control himself. He’d seen all measure of violence play out over the years. It went with the territory of being a frontier doctor. The mangled flesh underneath the bandage bore witness to something entirely different and he could not reconcile how any man could cause such injury to a child. The skin would heal eventually, but he knew the inner scars would take much more time to see them close over. Provided his patient lived long enough for that to happen.

As he stepped out onto the landing to call Joe’s family, he wasn’t surprised to see them all gathered at the bottom of the stairs.

“Paul?” The expression on Ben’s face conveyed the collective concern and the doctor slowly descended the stairs and gratefully accepted the cup of coffee that Hop Sing pressed into his hand. He wasn’t surprised to see Roy Coffee seated on the couch and waiting with the family for news. As he dropped onto a chair, he licked at his lip and tried to think where to begin. Encouragement seemed like a good starting point.

“You sure do breed tough boys, Ben. That young fella of yours is made of stern stuff.”

It was meant to bring hope, but as Paul glanced across at Adam, all he saw was guilt. He hurried on in the hope of easing that somewhat.

“You’ll need to be vigilant about getting more water into him. Just like you’ve been doing, because it’s working. He’s running a fever from the sunstroke and the only cure for that is water and time. He’s got a nasty gash on the back of his head. I won’t know if there’s any lasting affect from that until he wakes up and I examine him again. Other than that, his wrists have been dressed and he needs plenty of rest.”

It sounded too simple. Water and rest. Adam pushed off from the bannister he’d been leaning against and started up the stairs without saying a word. Paul saw the hunched set of his shoulders and knew the young man well enough to know he was carrying a world of guilt.

“Adam.”

He paused on the step and slowly turned back towards the doctor’s voice.

“You saved his life, son. He didn’t have a whole lot more time left out there.”

Adam felt bitter bile rising up from the pit of his stomach and he turned again without speaking. Saved him? He had possibly cost his brother his life!

Joe lay curled up on his side while the stark white bandage wrapped around his head contrasted cruelly with the redness of his blistered cheek. Adam knelt down beside the bed, afraid to reach out a hand and touch his brother in case he broke. He suddenly seemed so very young and fragile. His fingers lay splayed across the edge of the pillow and Adam stared at the bandage around his wrist. Adam closed his eyes as he recalled the sight of Joe’s wrists bound behind a tree and the bruising and damage that had been done to him. He was completely unaware as his father and brother entered the room until Ben laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Paul said we need to get some more water into him. Adam can you give me a hand to get him more upright?” Ben watched as Adam seemed to freeze for a moment before climbing up onto the bed and gently rolling Joe into his arms. As he leaned his brother’s head against his chest, Ben dribbled water from a glass. It was a painstakingly slow process, but it was working. Eventually he had drained the glass and he set it back on the dresser. Adam made no move to release his brother and Ben noted that Hoss had wriggled across from the foot of the bed. If his brothers’ proximity was any measure of things, Joe was going to be just fine.

It was some hours later that Ben found himself alone in Joe’s room, listening to the rasping sound of his youngest breathing. Paul had told him that Joe’s throat was scrubbed raw and he had flinched at the implication. His son had screamed for help that never came. He shifted forward and reached once again to stroke his son’s face. It was difficult to find a spot that didn’t look red and tender and he felt the anger rising again. For the first time in hours, he thought he detected movement and he leaned closer. Even though no sound accompanied it, Joe’s lips were definitely moving. His eyes rolled under the puffy eyelids and Ben wondered if he was dreaming.

The dust swirled around him, choking out sound and vision as the light withdrew from him. Darkness seemed to be his only companion and he almost smiled because the darkness also swallowed up the nightmare image of his brother’s dead body. It wasn’t right! Adam was invincible. Unstoppable. As he called his brother’s name, silence rolled back at him. He wished he could tell Adam how sorry he was. How much he wanted to make up for all the stupid things he’d said. Only he’d run out of time to do that.

Adam leaned against the doorframe and watched. His father had finally succumbed to his fatigue and slept fitfully, slumped against the back of the chair. A washcloth and bowl of water sat on the dresser and Adam walked across to retrieve them both. He slipped the bowl down onto the floor beside the bed and gently settled himself on the side of the bed. It was a good sign that Joe had a faint sheen of sweat across his face and Adam used the damp cloth to wipe it away. He eased the edge of the sheet down and began to wash down his brother’s torso, hoping he was doing something to bring comfort. Joe shivered under his hand and he watched intently to see if he did anything else. A moment later he could see his brother’s lips moving although no sound came out. He leaned closer in case he was missing something and Joe suddenly shifted on the bed. He cried out, a rasping, almost strangled cry that tore at Adam and woke Ben from his sleep.

“Joe? Can you hear me? You’re safe, Joe!” As he reached out a hand to steady his brother, Joe bucked under his hand.

“Joseph,” Ben always seemed to revert to his son’s full name when things were more serious and Adam could hear the fear in his father’s voice as he tried to calm his son. He had no idea if Joe could hear either of them, but he continued to strain against them both and Adam was afraid they would hurt him if they tried to hold him down. Joe’s eyes rolled open and for a brief moment, Adam thought he had gotten through. The murky haze instead of the usual spark frightened him and he knew that Joe was no more aware of his presence than he had been all day.

Without really stopping to think why, Adam leaned closer and began humming a tune. The words didn’t seem to want to come out as his brain strained against fatigue and fear, but the music was still there. Slowly, a few words dropped into place and he repeated the chorus several times. He didn’t know if it was the song, or Joe had just run out of fight, but his brother seemed to settle back against the pillow and his facial expression eased into less of a grimace.

The voice was back. The one that wrapped itself around him and made him feel safe. If only Adam had been kept safe by the voice. As he drifted back into the dark, he felt his heart breaking all over again.

Ben listened as his eldest son struggled to recall the song that Marie had used on her infant son and he prayed that her presence in the song would be enough to call her son back to them. He watched as Joe seemed to relax and was stunned to see a tear leak out from under his eyelashes. It tracked its way down his blistered cheek and was quickly followed by another. As Adam continued to sing, Ben reacted on memory and reached out to gather his son into his arms. He was so focused that he had no idea Hoss had even entered the room.

Adam was dead.

“‘m sorry.”

Ben had thought Joe was trying to talk before, but now he was certain of it. He leaned his ear closer and tried to hear whatever it was his son was mumbling.

“Joe? Can you hear me, Son?”

“Sorry, Pa.”

“Sorry for what, Joe?”

Adam had stopped singing when he realised his brother was finally coming to and he shifted closer.

“Adam.” The word was barely a whisper and Ben frowned as more tears trickled down Joe’s face.

“Adam is right here, Son.”

Joe fidgeted in his father’s arms and seemed to be rolling his face into his father’s chest. The next words were swallowed up by his shirt. As Ben reached to stroke his son’s face, he was surprised by the agony etched across his youngest child’s features.

“Joe?”

“Adam’s dead.”

Adam jolted back at the pain in his brother’s whispered response and he wondered if he had heard him correctly. Ben shifted his son up against his shoulder and tapped at his face, trying to bring him fully awake.

“No! Joe, Adam is just fine. He’s right here.”

The cloud of dust threatened to choke the breath out of his lungs. He could feel himself falling back into the darkness and he pushed against it. Hands grabbed at him and he struggled to open his eyes. He didn’t want to see anything and wanted to just fall back into oblivion.

“Joe!” Once again, Ben shifted and he was finally rewarded with his son slowly blinking at him. It was as if the light hurt his eyes and he recoiled from it. Adam remembered only too well how Joe had done that when he had the measles. As he tried to focus on his father’s face above him, Joe felt the agony washing over him again and he tried to hide once more. Acting more on instinct than anything else, Ben called Adam closer and he nudged Joe to wake him once more.

“Hey, little buddy.”

Joe felt the dam breaking inside him as he heard the words he knew he would never hear again. His mind swirled in confusion and he reached out a hand towards his brother’s face. As he made contact, he snatched it back again, afraid that he would somehow chase away the mirage.

Adam’s eyes shone with tears and now Joe knew he wasn’t real. Adam didn’t cry!

“Joe.” He had no idea why his brother had flinched at the sight of him unless he hated him for what Harrison had done. He couldn’t blame him really. Adam pulled back and Joe turned his face into his father’s chest once more. Ben was having none of it.

He leaned forward and without asking, deposited his youngest son into the arms of his eldest. As Joe finally registered the black shirt and the smell of his brother’s cologne, he could not control the cascade of emotion that rolled out of him. Tears soaked into Adam’s shirt as he grasped hold of it. Adam clung to him as if somebody had thrown a lifeline his way. He buried his face into his brother’s curls and allowed the tears to fall.

Hoss hovered behind his father, relieved to know that Joe was finally awake, but somehow feeling uncertain of what was going on. Adam was not one to show such unrestrained emotion and it left him feeling unsettled. Ben looked up to see him hopping slowly from one foot to the other and he beckoned him closer. As he came within reach, his father stood up and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Nothing had shifted in his understanding, but the simple gesture was enough to right his world once again.

The first morning that Joe made it down to breakfast by himself was cause for celebration and Hop Sing almost fell over himself trying to pile the table with food to entice them with. Joe allowed his father to fill his plate with enough food to feed Hoss twice over, but his stomach clenched in a knot. He had no idea how long it had been from when Harrison had duped him in the alleyway to the present moment, but there was still one thing he had not shared with anybody. He could not bear to think about it and he had tried to bury the images without success. Ben knew his son was still healing and he tried to allow Joe to move at whatever pace he was happy with. It was clear he had not yet come to terms with his abduction and he feared he never would. They still weren’t sure of all the details of his trial and a part of him hoped that Joe never remembered it.

“Adam?”

All eyes shifted towards him and Joe began to squirm in his seat.

“Yeah.” He could see his brother’s discomfort and thought he needed to keep things neutral and calm. He forced himself to shove a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

“Out there … I … well … I had a lotta time to think.”

Ben felt like his son had just stuck a knife into his ribs with that one simple sentence. He willed himself to breathe and not react.

“What were you thinking about, Joe?”

“Well,” Joe hung his head and tears dripped onto his lap. Before he could speak any further, Adam had swung out of his seat and crouched down in front of him, resting a hand on his knee. He smiled at his little brother, trying to draw out whatever he wanted to say.

“I got to thinking about how many times I told you I hated you. And that I wished you never came back from college.” The misery in his voice was apparent to all of them. “All I wanted to do was come back and tell you I don’t hate you. I dunno why I ever said that about you ‘cos I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, Adam.”

He frowned in confusion as once again, Adam had tears streaming down his face. He didn’t even hear whatever it was that Adam said in response before he found himself being pulled into the fiercest hug. He wrapped his arms around Adam’s neck and held on while his brother seemed intent on squeezing the breath out of him.

Time.

Give him time.

Pa had been right. Of course, none of them could have foreseen the catalyst for the changes in them both, but Adam knew that he had no question about what was important and what wasn’t.