Summary:  Three Vignettes, which were originally posted separately in the Old Brand Library; where the reader gets to figure out TWO of the brothers.

Part One – A Brother:  He lay there; wishing for all that he was worth that it was just the sound of thunder that was pounding in his head.   His body wanted to give into its exhaustion but the sounds wouldn’t let him.  And so there he laid; praying for a rescue, hoping above hope that it all would stop.

Part Two – The Other Brother:  Pa had assigned the jobs and now… another brother waits for rescue or for it all to just stop.

Part Three – The Final Brother:  You’ve read of two of the brothers, now comes the final brother.  Or rather, it began like this…

Rating:  K+ (4,840 words)

May the Thunder Roll – A Brother

 He lay there; wishing for all that he was worth that it was just the sound of thunder that was pounding in his head.   His body wanted to give into its exhaustion, but the sounds wouldn’t let him.  And so there he laid; praying for a rescue, hoping above hope that it all would stop.

*****

The day had started before the sun tinged the sky.   Forgoing breakfast, he grabbed a cup of coffee and after taking a tentative sip, thanked Hop Sing for the foresight to brew it stronger than normal.  With the cup placed in the sink, he returned to the front door to gather his gun belt and hat, and without a backwards glance was out the door.

*****

The night before he and his brothers had listened to their father lament the fact that the hands hand reported a large break in the north pasture fencing and he was ordered to see to returning any and all strays to the proper side of the boundary.  Begrudging the fact that it was the peak of summer, he elected to get an early start in an effort to be back home before the heat of the day struck.

It couldn’t be helped that one brother was sick and the other was required to go to another section of the ranch to check on the condition of a stream-fed watering hole that was always prone to damming by beavers.  It was a toss-up as to which brother had been assigned the worst job.

*****

With fifteen head of cattle still counted as missing, his jacket that had been required during the early morning hours had long been tied to the back of his saddle as the sun reached the noon mark.   He’d rechecked the underbrush and the various copses of trees nearby.  He ranged deep into a few arroyos and found several head bearing the Ponderosa brand within.  He ranged farther afield and rode with his shirt unbuttoned, in hopes the breeze he created as he loped his horse along would help evaporate the sweat that coursed down his chest in an effort to cool himself.  By the time the count was down to five head missing, his canteen was nearing empty as he dismounted his horse and allowed it to stand fetlock deep in the creek that cut through the open range; both satiating their thirst as the sun beat down from overhead.

Once remounted, the lowing sound was faint but insistent.  And so he followed and found five head bogged down in a section of the creek where it pooled wider before narrowing again.

He cursed the cattle as he stepped to the ground and retrieved his lariat from his saddle.  The first cow was highly cooperative after he roped her and his horse pulled her to terra firma.  The second cow presented a slightly different circumstance, not as deeply sunk; however, she was unwilling to leave her calf.  So, he decided to rescue the calf in hopes that the mother would rescue herself.

With no luck in pulling the calf out using the rope, he hung his head.  In a controlled descent, he flopped on the ground to tug off his boots and socks.  Rolling up his pant legs, he returned to the scene of the crime.  He stepped cautiously into the mire and thrust his arms deep and grabbed hold of the calf’s front leg before he reached over to grab up the second front leg, extricating both from their entrapment.  Moving to the rear of the bovine, he pulled out the tail with a prayer it would incite the animal to move on its own.  The cow stood nearby, bawling as if telling the human, “My baby!  Don’t hurt my baby!”

“Well momma, if you’d taught this youngster right; WE wouldn’t be here, now… would we?”

He rued the fact that he was actually talking to such a stupid animal.  With an effort, he grabbed the calf’s haunches and after a mighty heave the bull calf flopped free on its side.  Flanks heaving, it lay where it landed.

The man rolled his head around on his neck as if begging, “Come on… Give me a break!  I’ve done all the work.  Move your scrawny…” But he refrained from speaking the rest and went to work hauling the exhausted animal to the dry bank; the mother happily plodding along behind them.

Returning to his horse, he repositioned his partner in order to rescue the fourth animal of the day.  With a deft flick of his wrist, the loop landed around the cow’s neck and with a subtle shifting of his weight the horse carefully backed.  The loop tightened and gave just enough purchase for the animal to heave their full weight against the rope, managing to propel itself free and clear.

Thirty minutes later he poked and prodded, pulled and swatted before the last cow was heading back towards her home range, the others following suit.

Looking down, he loathed the mud and muck and the smell that now clung to him.  Grabbing his boots and socks, he walked up the stream where he did his best to clean off his limbs and clothes.  Feet in socks, and socks in boots, he returned to his horse who gave him a wary eye as he approached but held still for his rider to mount.  Wearily he neck reined his horse to follow the cattle.

*****

The hands sitting on the tailgate of the wagon laughed at his appearance, cackling with good-hearted mirth at his expense.

“Just get the fence finished before Pa comes out here.”

With an hour to ride home, he signaled his horse into a ground covering lope, changing into a trot to conserve the animal’s strength.

The sun had set by the time he exited the barn, horse groomed, tack cleaned; eager to make his way to the bathhouse and a long, hot bath.

Hop Sing declared he would bring his charge clean clothes; he didn’t want dried mud all over the house.  And so he made his way out the back of the kitchen, to find his brother already in the copper tub singing atrociously some bawdy song he’d evidently heard at the saloon.  The singing only stopped when a series of sneezes let loose, indicating this brother was still not over his cold.  It appeared that he would not be in a position to help again tomorrow.

*****

With his brother’s dirty bath water drained, his muscles protested as he assisted Hop Sing in carrying fresh hot water.  He finally dismissed the small man.

His hands knew each button and without conscious thought he shucked off his shirt, followed by his pants and undergarments.  Slowly he eased his body into the water and felt it work to relax his sore muscles.  Waking quickly as he began to slip below the waters, he reached for the rag and soap, and began to clean his body.

*****

The family retired to the great room after supper.  His head bobbed forward as his eyes slipped closed.

“I think I’ll head to bed.”

“Me too…”

“Same here.”

“Goodnight, boys.”

*****

And now, hours later, body pleading for sleep, he lay in his bed, his mind arguing with his desires.  ‘Why couldn’t it be thunder?   I can sleep through a storm.’  He was so tired he was on the verge of tears.    Laying there, praying for a rescue, hoping above hope that it all would stop.   ‘Just go down the hall and place the pillow over his face…’

And like the eventual passing of a storm, the snoring stopped and he fell to sleep… blessed, perfect, welcoming sleep.

Three quick raps on his door and it opened to reveal bright blue eyes, “Hey, come on, time to rise and shine.  Pa sent me up here to get you.  It’s gonna be a glorious day, I finally got rid a my cold.  Guess all that sleep yesterday and last night done the trick.”

When he finally entered the hallway he ground his teeth and announced, “I’m gonna smother him tonight.”

“Not if I get to him first,” claimed the other brother as he struggled to stand upright against the doorway to his room, eyes bleary from a lack of sleep too.

Author’s note:  So you know at least one brother.

~ B ~ O ~ N ~ A ~ N ~ Z ~ A ~

May the Thunder Roll …the other brother

He lay there; begrudging the torment of someone hammering within in his skull.   His body was desperate to give into its exhaustion and abuse, but the pervasive sounds wouldn’t let him.  All his senses were on high alert, picking up on anything minute and transforming it into sensory overload.  He tried to relax, but just couldn’t harness the stillness within; he dared pray for rescue or for it to just stop.

*****

His day had started before the sun tinged the sky.

“Why me?” the rider moaned to his horse as reached the halfway point of his trip out to the primary stream that fed one of their larger ponds in the pasture south of the homestead.  “He gets to go out and play cowboy,” rolling his eyes as he thought, “it isn’t that hard to round up missing cattle and head them back to our range…  A beaver, Pa said.  A beaver!  Bet you I get to wrangle a beaver dam.”

The rider halted his horse at a creek, allowing the animal to drink while he removed his jacket.  He’d left home shortly before sunrise, but sometime after his brother had already left to see about the broken fence line and the scattered herd.  Twisting around, he tied his jacket to the cantle of his saddle before picking up the reins and signaling his horse onward.

As he rode along, he remembered supper the evening before, he and his brothers had listened to their father lament the fact that one of the hands hand reported he had seen numerous signs of a beaver near the stream that fed the southern watering hole.  He withheld his groan when his father assigned him this task, “Make sure the stream is cleared,” Pa stated, pointing directly to him.   As he accepted the order, he regretted the fact that there were no burning matchsticks to assign the chore this time.

‘Great, just great’ he had silently cursed, knowing that he had been assigned the worst job on the ranch, as he made his way up the stairs to bed later that night.  He worried about which transgression might have been discovered by his father in order for him to draw this job.

*****

Knowing it was the height of summer and the day would be another scorcher, he had elected to get an early start in an effort to return home before the arrival of the heat of the day.

He thanked Hop Sing for the strong brew of coffee in the pre-dawn hour.  Grabbing two warm, golden-brown biscuits from the baking sheet, he bit off a large chunk from one as he hurried out of the way of the ever threatening wooden spoon.

“I’ll be back after lunch,” was stated after quickly swallowing the biscuit in his mouth.

*****

“A beaver my a…” the rider’s head sank forward, resting his chin to his chest as he fumed at the sight in front of him.  ‘There’s no way one beaver constructed that…’  He ground his teeth in frustration.

Stepping from the saddle he unfastened the cinch and stripped the saddle from his horse’s back.  From his saddlebags he fetched the hobbles and tied them around his horse’s pasterns, thus allowing the horse to roam and graze while he cleared out the blockage; this was going to take some time.

“At least you’ll have an easy day,” he stated as he gave a firm pat to his horse’s neck.

Before he plopped down on the still lush grass, he unfastened his gunbelt from around his waist, buckled it, and draped it over the saddle horn.  Next, he removed his boots and socks, and rolled his pant legs up above his knees while he began to assess the best way to begin.

He knew it was a job that had to be completed and couldn’t be put off, or else their cattle could get bogged down behind the dam as it blocked the flow of water and would ultimately turn the area into an unusable marshland for months to come

After walking the circumference of the pile of brush several times, and from both directions, he identified what he felt was the weakest location. Grabbing a large branch with both hands and heftily pulling, he was not prepared for the ease in which it moved.  Ruing that he had not tested his beliefs, his efforts sent the log flying over his head allowing his arms to windmill around, all in a futile effort to save himself from falling backwards.

SPLATSH!  The material of his pants was a poor barrier against the water that oozed through to his skin as well as making its way down his waist line. Flinging the mud from his hands, he worked to unbutton his shirt and removed the mud-sodden garment.  Gaining his feet, he cursed as he walked to a clear portion of the stream and rinsed out his shirt.

As he proceeded to the stand of trees where he had left his saddle, he looked to his horse…“Don’t look at me like that,” he sarcastically called out as he hung his shirt to dry, before returning to his task.

*****

Limb by limb, branch by branch he worked to clear away the debris used to construct the ever dwindling dwelling.  By the time he finally breached the inner sanctum, he wished he had his gun with him to dispatch the two beavers that dove beneath the water to swim out the hidden exit.

*****

The sun was well past noon and was probably closer to two o’clock when he finally reached below the waterline to pull out pieces from the foundation of the structure.  As he pulled up, the suction from the mud gave way and the branch rocketed from the water, striking him across the cheekbone, startling him into momentarily seeing stars.

Gently rubbing his cheek bone he mused, “That’s going to leave a mark.”

Sweat glistened across his tanned skin as he laboriously worked; not one to shirk responsibilities as part owner of the Ponderosa, he knew he had a duty to his family and the land.  But that didn’t stop him from grumbling about the job at hand and why it was him out there.

*****

By the time he had heaped the branches into a pile, it had grown too late to set them ablaze.

“Maybe I’ll bring a wagon tomorrow and collect all this for firewood,” he said to no one.

*****

Feet in socks and socks in boots, he slipped his arms into the stiff shirt before buttoning it.  With the hobbles removed and his horse saddled, wearily he pulled himself into the saddle and slowly threw his leg over to the other side.  Patting his holster strapped to his thigh, he reined his horse for home, mumbling something about being prepared tomorrow if the beavers dared show their scrawny hides.

The tempo of his mount’s trot did nothing to alleviate his aches and pains, or the stiffness of his pants caused by the soaking mud having dried.  So, he signaled his mount into an easy lope in hopes of reaching home and a bath, sooner.

*****

Upon arriving home and his horse taken care of, he was disheartened to hear his brother singing some off-key bawdy saloon song in the bath house.  He didn’t have the patience or the strength to wait, so he proceeded to the bunk house for his bath.

The tin tub rattled around as he lost control of it while setting it to the floor.  He was thankful for the cistern they had built on to the back of the bunkhouse for the men to have access to readily warmed water as he opened the spigot and allowed the water to flow.  He tossed his soiled and smelly clothes aside as he stripped.

Not waiting for the tub to fill entirely, he gave a mighty sigh as he sat down and leaned back.  As the water continued to flow, he enjoyed the warmth that penetrated his aching muscles.  With the water inches from the edge, he used his foot to turn off the spigot.  He woke as the water cooled, he decided now was the time to lather up.

*****

After supper, the family retired to the great room, the warmth from the fire teased him with sleep.  His head tilted forward as his eyes momentarily slipped closed.

His head bobbed up when he heard, “I think I’ll head to bed.”

Followed by, “Me too…”

“Same here,” he replied as he yawned.

“Goodnight, boys,” their father called.

*****

And now, hours later, pleading for sleep, he lay in his bed, his body too tired to obey his desires.  It didn’t matter what commands his brain pleaded, the instructions were ignored and the sounds continued to batter his head; resonating as if echoing off the dark mountains in the distance, building one on top of another in a never ending sequence.  And so he lay there, praying for a rescue, hoping above hope that it all would just stop.  His mind continually begged, ‘Just go next door and place a pillow over his face…’  Twenty-four hours after he had last woke… quiet, allowing his fatigue to conquer his over-wrought senses and win.

There were no raps on his door, just a voice too cheery, next to his ear, proclaiming, “Hey, wake up, time to rise and shine,” with a resounding smack on his upturned backside.  “Pa sent me to get you.  Guess what?  I finally got rid a my cold.  Guess all that sleep yesterday and last night done the trick.”

He tried to go back to sleep, but heard three raps on the door down the hall and that all too cheery brother, and knew there was no option other than to obey.

*****

When he finally entered the hallway; leaning against the door jamb for support, rubbing his assaulted backside, he looked up when he heard his other brother mumble, “I’m gonna smother him tonight.”

“Not if I get to him first,” he claimed, his black eye boldly glaring after his brother who had disappeared down the stairs.

Author’s Note:  For those who inquired, ‘Which brother?’ after May the Thunder Roll… I had hoped this story would answer your question.  But… I must apologize, my muse conspired against you; however, there are subtle clues.  Regardless, I guess it’s up to your imagination which brother suffered which task.

Again one brother is clearly identified, and if you read closely, there is at least one clue within this chapter to identify a second brother.

 ~ B ~ O ~ N ~ A ~ N ~ Z ~ A ~

May the Thunder Roll …the final brother

Hop Sing, the long-time factotum for the Cartwright family set the table; all the while he listened for the first sounds that his family was waking for the day.  The weekend that had just concluded had been as long and as difficult as any weekend following the conclusion of a cattle drive.

*****

The chuck and supply wagons were unloaded while the horses were unharnessed and turned out in the corral; their leather tack was checked thoroughly as it was cleaned before being put away.  Boxes of unused supplies were returned to the kitchen and to the cold cellar below the house.  Tarps and gear still wet from the rain earlier in the day were hung to dry in the barn

Saddles were stripped from the backs of the riding horses before their mounts were curried and gone over to confirm they were sound.  Any loose shoes were immediately pulled and plans made to trim the hooves and reset the shoes in the coming days.   Saddles and bridles were cleaned and checked for needed repairs before being returned to the assigned places.

By the time the family had returned to the house, all were walking slower and a little more deliberately.  After a filling supper and time in the wash house, all turned in a little earlier than normal.

*****

A sound from the second floor indicated that the senior Cartwright was soon to make his appearance for the morning; walking down the staircase while tying his neck kerchief as he descended.  The small oriental man smiled, knowing his employer would soon appreciate the hearty breakfast he was preparing. But first, a strong cup of coffee would be set in front of the man.

Pleasantries had been exchanged and Ben had taken the first sip from the coffee cup, “Thank you Hop Sing.  I really needed this.”

“Mr. Cartwright vely welcome.  Breakfast be ready soon.”  The small man returned to his domain as the second door opened and closed from the floor above.

As a father of three grown sons, Ben knew which son to expect to make his presence known next; and he wasn’t surprised to see his eldest slowly making his way down the stairs.  Even though he was immaculately and completely dressed for the day, it didn’t stop the yawn that forced its way out.

“Sorry, Pa,” Adam stated as he settled into his chair at the end of the table, carefully taking the hot cup of coffee that Hop Sing handed to the man.  “Smells good.”

“Drink slowly, coffee hot, wake numba one son.”

“Thank you, Hop Sing.  I hope you’ve brewed another pot.  I think we’re going to need it today.”

“Always brew plenty coffee, keep family wake after hard trip.”

“Did you sleep well, son?” Ben inquired.

“As good as I could… even though I’ve looked forward to sleeping in my own bed ever since our first night out it still took a while to get used to the fact that it was so comfortable.”

“Did you hear anything of your brothers before you came down?”

“I think I heard Joe,” Adam answered briefly as another yawn broke forth.  “Sorry.”

Ben nodded and turned back to fill his own cup of coffee, but his attention was immediately focused on the staircase and seeing his youngest sprawling on his backside as he slid down to the middle landing.  Ben half stood as he called, “Joseph, are you okay?”

“Uh… sure Pa,” Joe answered, rising slowly, taking hold of the banister.

“What happened?” Adam asked as Joe slipped into his seat at the table.

“Boy, not talk, boy drink coffee, boy wake up,” Hop Sing stated as he set another China cup to the table, steam drifting lazily from within.

“Thank you, Hop Sing,” Joe answered after sipping and relishing the warmth that trickled down his throat.  “By the way, I’m not a boy.”

“Eighteen still boy!  Always be boy, even when thirty!” answered the housekeeper as he turned to leave the room.

“Are you okay son?” Ben asked, noticing the movement of his youngest as he slightly squirmed in his seat.

“Just my pride Pa, only my pride.”

Joe’s innocent expression caused Adam to laugh, “Would you like a pillow?”

“Do you think you can find one to fit my saddle?” Joe answered back, in good humor.

Sounds emanated from the kitchen, indicating that Hop Sing was taking up their breakfast from the stove and placing it into the serving dishes.

“Joe, would you kindly go back upstairs and encourage your brother to join us for breakfast?  And maybe coming back down you can make a more graceful entrance,” Ben stated.

“That’s a change,” Adam grinned.

“Huh?” Joe gulped his coffee.

“Just go tell Hoss that…”

“ACHOOOO!” rumbled from the second floor.

“Yī…” (One)

“ACHOOOOO!”

“Èr…” (Two)

“ACHOOOOO!”

“Sān…” (Three)

“ACHOOOO!”

“Sì…” (Four) Hop Sing silently counted from the kitchen as each sneeze reverberated through the house.  He waited, his work of taking food from the stove temporarily forgotten, until no more sneezes were heard.

The chandelier over the table swung slightly and the windows behind their father rattled in their panes as feet stumbling from bed pounded on the floor in cadence to the sneezes.

“Please no,” Adam whispered as he lowered his head after the last sneeze.

“Oh no,” Joe mirrored his brother’s sentiments.

“I was afraid of that, after trying to retrieve Cookie’s favorite pan from the river and falling in…”

“Not to mention yesterday’s rain,” Adam added.

“You two know what this means,” Ben stated.

“Yes sir,” Adam replied.  “We just assumed Hoss’ chores.”

Joe slumped backwards and slipped downward in his chair, “And it’s only Monday morning…”

~The End

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Translation via Google Translation.  My apologies for any errors.

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May the Thunder Roll was inspired by the Seedling Challenge:  Thunder

May the Thunder Roll – the Other Brother was written as a follow-up story to answer the question of which brother.  It does not contain a Seedling Challenge word.

May the Thunder Roll – the Final Brother was inspired by the Seedling Challenge:  Monday Morning.

Story Tags: Adam Cartwright, Ben Cartwright, Hoss Cartwright, Joe / Little Joe Cartwright, multiple stories

The final page contains the reviews/comments left on the old BonanzaBrand Library.