Summary:   Written as a Birthday challenge for one of our most devout fanfic readers.

SJS for Devonshire:  Sometimes a father’s intuition is worth its weight in gold.

Rated: K+  Word Count:  4632

 

                                                   The Hunch

 

“Pa, I’ll be fine.”

It was the last thing Joe had said to him, his voice edged with irritation as he’d hurriedly fastened his gun belt and plucked his hat from the sideboard. He’d been eager to leave; even more so than usual thanks to the hovering attention of a concerned father.

Yet Ben couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in his gut he’d felt from the moment he had awakened that morning. A feeling that something was off, or wrong, or something was going to happen, and that it would surely involve his youngest.

The morning passed without incident, and soon logic reared its head and effectively stifled the nervousness to a mere hum, easily ignored as Ben busied himself with his daily tasks. There was nothing to worry about, after all. Joe was just going into town for the mail; something he’d done a hundred times before. Nothing to worry about.

Yet a father’s instinct is a stubborn thing, and Ben found himself surrendering to the feeling of unease as the day progressed. Adam later came upon him pacing the floor and glancing anxiously at the clock. He didn’t need to be told why his father was so agitated.

“How late is he?” Adam asked quietly.

“Late,” Ben replied. “He should have been back two, three hours ago.”

“Pa, he’ll be fine,” Adam admonished. “Joe’s not a little kid anymore. You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself.”

Ben forced a smile. “I know. Old habits die hard, don’t they?”

Adam sighed. “I think I’ll head out and see if Hoss needs any help in the barn,” he said, clearly in a hurry to rid himself of the company of an over-anxious parent.

Ben picked up the newspaper and tried to concentrate on the words in front of him. Adam was right, of course he was right. It was perfectly fine for a parent to worry, but not so fine to be consumed by it. Ben knew he could go on and on listing the numerous perils that could befall his son – both real and imagined – and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurd direction of his thoughts. He’d have to tell Joe later how silly he’d been.

 

His amusement, however, was abruptly extinguished at the sound of the slamming door, and Adam’s urgent voice on its heels.

 

“Pa! PA! Come quick!” 

 

***

 

The sound of panic in his voice sent Ben’s heart racing with trepidation and throwing down his paper he quickly followed Adam back outside.

 

Immediately Ben’s stomach knotted as he halted on the veranda in mid stride and focused his eyes on Hoss who was stood in the yard holding the reins of an obviously distressed and highly agitated pinto; its eyes rolling white with fear and flecks of foam running from its mouth.  Ben recognised the rider-less horse immediately.  “Hoss what’s going on?  Where’s your brother?”

 

Hoss looked over quickly as he noted the urgency in his father’s voice.  “Ain’t no sign of Joe Pa,” he replied, returning to run a gentle soothing hand down the black and white neck which served to quieten the nervous animal.  “But Cochise came running in like the devil himself was on his tail, and by the look of the sweat on him I’d say he’d been galloping hard for miles.”

 

Ben hurriedly made towards him.  “Do you reckon he’s been thrown?”

 

Pursing his lips hard Hoss gave an emphatic nod of the head.  “I ain’t never seen a horse spooked so bad Pa.  Joe wouldn’t have stood a chance when Cooch took off.”

 

Adam stepped forward and checked the saddlebags. “Well it looks like he managed to pick up the mail without any problem,” he confirmed, visibly perplexed as he pulled out a large bundle of letters still neatly tied together.  “So whatever took place must have happened when he was returning home.”

 

Ben nodded in agreement and transferred his gaze towards a blood red sun slowly sinking low in the western sky.  “If Joe was on his way back to the Ponderosa we need to start looking for him now while there’s still enough daylight left,” he instructed, his face now etched with worry.  “He could be anywhere from here to Virginia City.”

 

Realising his father’s intuitive fear for Joe’s safety may have been well placed after all Adam exchanged a quick glance with his brother.  “Hoss you take the track down by the lake and I’ll follow the high road into town and make sure Doc Martin’s aware of the situation…just in case he’s needed,” he added without elaborating and quickly headed into the barn to saddle the horses.

 

Ignorant of his father’s earlier worried concerns Hoss looked over with a bemused expression; always the optimist.  “In case Doc’s needed?  What’s Adam goin’ on about Pa?  This ain’t the first time Joe and his horse have parted company, and knowin’ little brother he’s probably walkin’ his way back home at this very minute, the only thing hurtin’ his feet and his pride!”

 

Ben forced over the briefest of reassuring smiles in spite of his feeling of apprehension.  “I sure would like to think that son ….”

 

As his voice trailed to nothing, uncertainty crept into Hoss’ eyes as he searched his father’s face with an uneasy frown.  “You think somethin’ real serious has happened this time to Joe Pa?”

 

Ben heaved a vast, inward sigh and knew there was no point trying to hide his inward fears any longer.  “Yes I’m afraid I do Hoss,” he replied quietly as he recalled the sense of foreboding that had gnawed at him since early morning.  “In fact I’m certain of it.”

 

***

 

Once Adam and Hoss disappeared to search along their designated routes, Ben decided to go in a different direction on a hunch and follow a fast flowing tributary of the Truckee River as it sped its way along the bottom of a high sided ravine; the trail running parallel with it and offering just enough room for a single horse and rider to travel the path in safety.

 

 

It was not the quickest or the most well used track back and forth to the Ponderosa, but had a quiet sort of beauty and was know to be Joe’s favourite when he had things on his mind or speed and haste was not a major factor on the young man’s agenda.  And as he set off at a slow canter, Ben could well imagine the last thing the seventeen year old would have wanted to do after their morning’s bad tempered altercation was to rush home from town knowing there was a good chance he’d be subjected to further mollycoddling from an over protective father.

 

Ignoring the low cast of the evening shadows as his horse ate up the miles, Ben felt himself growing desperate; just hoping his search would be rewarded before darkness obscured his path altogether and any glimmer from the moon would be his sole source of light.  But even then he had no intention of stopping in his endeavours until Joe was found; no matter how long it took.

 

Occasionally reining Buck to a stop and sitting motionless in the saddle, Ben’s senses primed for any signs of movement or unusual noise within the forest of soaring pine and spruce which hugged the steep slopes and then disappeared over the crest of a ridge on either side.  But apart from a startled deer he came upon which turned and crashed away in terror through the undergrowth, to Ben’s immense disappointment all seemed still and for the most part silent and there was never sight nor sound of his missing son.

 

Eventually he arrived at a slow turning bend and the parting of the ways for the trail which now curved gently upwards for a couple of miles towards the Virginia City road, leaving the fast flowing stream to meander its way alone in the opposite direction to where green grassed meadows filled with herds of top prime cattle awaited its clear mountain waters.

 

Pulling Buck to a halt, Ben allowed his horse to drink its fill for a few moments while he again narrowed his gaze and scanned his eyes hopefully back and forth over the darkened landscape.  But with still no sign of Joe a spectre of doubt slowly raised its head.  What if his fatherly intuition had been wrong for once and he’d been on a wild goose chase for all these hours?  What if his son hadn’t come this way?

 

Ben heaved a heavy sigh at his seemingly futile search and was about to turn in the direction of the road when abruptly out the corner of his eye he caught sight of a familiar looking object laying several yards away by the edge of the water.

 

During his days before the mast, he’d always had the kind of eyesight that could pick up the smallest of details at long range, and thankful of it once again Ben urged the buckskin forwards and then stared down with consternation and a feeling of foreboding as he instantly recognised a black Stetson which seemed to have been discarded in a great hurry on the mud-covered ground.

 

Ben remained motionless, his gaze unblinking.  He’d been right after all….Joe had come this way.  But the worried father didn’t feel any sense of triumph or elation….only fear.

 

With his heart hammering hard within his chest Ben dismounted then squatted down; running his trembling fingers across the smooth leather brim of the hat.  Unable to stop himself just touching it was enough to swing his mind back speedily a few hours; recalling as Joe placed it on his head the edge of suppressed anger in his snappy response to what he considered was his father’s unwarranted concern for his wellbeing.  “Pa, I’ll be fine!”

 

The words were repeated soundlessly on Ben’s lips; the trickle of inevitability now becoming a torrent as it was more than apparent something serious must have happened and Joe most certainly was not fine.

 

A distant coyote barked stirring Ben from his anxious musings.  Slowly rising he automatically pulled out his Colt from its holster and rapidly fired three times into the air; the well known signal from one Cartwright to another that help and assistance was needed.  And knowing if either Adam or Hoss heard the gunfire they would make their way in his direction without delay to help with the search, Ben decided to lead Buck on a long rein and walk for a while; his stomach churning with trepidation at what he might soon find ahead.

 

He moved on and it wasn’t long before his worst fears were confirmed when to Ben’s shocked surprise his keen eyed gaze made out the shadowy outline of a man in the distance who looked to have struggled to heave himself up the slippery muddy bank, but having lost the battle now just lay motionless in a crumpled heap, half in and half out of the rapid flowing torrent.

 

With clouds unhelpfully obscuring the rising moon, even in the gloom of twilight Ben recognised the grey-jacketed figure and immediately dropped the hat; rushing to Joe’s side and dragging his seemingly lifeless body onto dry land.

 

Unsure if he was alive or dead Ben’s mouth went dry as he sank down by his son’s side and fearfully felt for a pulse; unconsciously holding his breath until eventually he found one.  However as he expelled the air Ben’s relief was short lived as he realised the beat was far too faint and irregular to be considered healthy; a clear indication Joe’s survival prospects were less than low and he was probably as near to death as anyone would be after laying for any length of time in the ice cold waters.

 

From his years of experience at sea Ben knew the only chance he had of saving Joe’s life was to find some way of warming and raising his body temperature as quickly as possible before he literally froze to death in front of his eyes.   He thought of building a fire to create instant heat, but immediately dismissed the idea, knowing it would take too long.   So instead Ben rushed towards Buck who was standing obediently nearby; hurriedly unfastening a bedroll secured to the saddle then returning to tear off Joe’s soaking wet jacket and replace it with his own.

 

Wrapping the thickly woven blanket tight around his son’s body Ben then eased down by his side and rested his back on an old gnarled tree stump.   Pulling Joe gently towards him and settling him face down on his broad chest he then imparted his own bodily warmth instantly in a bear-hugging embrace, all the while stroking Joe’s back and urging, imploring, insisting he wake.

 

But with only the sound of the gurgling water for company as it rushed unceasingly by, Ben’s voice echoed plaintively within the otherwise silent forest, and as the minutes past to his immense disappointment and alarm Joe remained still and unresponsive.

 

Ben swallowed hard while unconsciously blinking back a tear.  Had he found Joe too late to save him?  And with his moistened eyes stricken and feeling impotent, his sense of possible loss compacted as images of his youngest son over the years flashed into his mind.  Was he never to hear Joe’s laughter again?  See his smile?

 

Nearly choking on the tightness in his throat Ben stubbornly refused to contemplate such a nightmarish scenario and as a last resort he readily sought higher counsel.

 

“Please God.  Let him be all right.”

 

More time passed then Ben’s silent prayer was suddenly answered when not a moment too soon Joe began to shake uncontrollably in his arms; in fact so hard Ben had to tighten his grip.

 

To the untrained eye the frenzied shaking would have been a frightening sight to behold; probably thought of as the final death throes of the young man.   But to Ben it was the blessed sign there was a good chance The Grim Reaper had been cheated of another victim once again as Joe’s natural defences instinctively kicked into gear and his body took over to heat his hypothermic frame.

 

An uplifting surge of hope filled Ben’s heart as he hugged even tighter than before; continuing to pass over his life-saving warmth for what seemed an age until Joe’s uncontrollable trembling turned into an occasional shudder and the crisis was finally over.

 

Tears of joy now replaced tears of despair as Ben wiped his face dry on the sleeve of his shirt.   He took a deep calming breath to pull himself together then tenderly patted Joe’s back in an attempt to bring him round as quickly as possible after his traumatic experience.

 

“Joe,” he whispered softly in his ear.   There was no immediate response so Ben decided on a different tack to hasten the process…louder and more insistent.   “Joseph!  It’s time to get up!”

 

Responding to his father’s command the young man slowly stirred, obediently mumbling a well-used reply as he answered in his semi-comatose state.  “Yeah Pa.  I’m awake.”

 

Ben smiled and felt himself shudder with relief then way in the distance came the unmistakable echo of three quickly fired shots.  Taking out his gun Ben emptied the barrel into the dark sky; answering its call.  “You hear that Joe?  Sounds like one or both of your brothers are only a few miles away now.   We’ll soon have you home and warmed up and then you’ll feel a whole lot better.”

 

Although still slightly disorientated Joe showed more awareness of his surroundings as he gave out a faint murmur of understanding.  Ben continued to hold him in his arms, but knowing Joe was clearly on the road to recovery allowed his mind to wander as he considered for the first time if Hoss had been correct in his assumption and Joe’s horse had thrown him.  But if so for what reason?   And with no obvious sign of broken bones to hinder him, why had Joe been unable to escape from the potentially deadly freezing mountain waters?

 

Absently Ben rubbed a hand across his son’s bare neck, noting how unusually warm his skin now felt as he pondered his silent questions, when suddenly out of the blue the now conscious Joe let out an unexpected cry of pain.

 

Flinching at the sound as it broke into his silent reverie Ben gently propped Joe into a sitting position then reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a match.  Striking it on his boot he pulled back and took a moment to study Joe’s features more intently for the first time; letting out a short gasp of dismay at what he now saw in the soft muted glow of the flickering flame.

 

He’d expected Joe’s complexion to be back to a normal colour again, but instead the youthfully handsome face was reddened and swollen in an unnaturally grotesque fashion; in fact every inch of visible skin on Joe’s neck, arms and chest was bloated and strangely discoloured.  Stunned at the sight Ben was left confused and shocked as to what could be the cause but as he absently flicked away a few dead insects lying within the folds of Joe’s dampened shirt and in his hair he suddenly realised the exact reason for his son’s desperate condition.

 

Then the flame went out and with no more matches available Ben leaned over close in the darkness.  “Looks like you managed to have one heck of an argument with quite a few angry wasps today son,” he said with a sympathetic sigh.  “How are you feeling?”

 

Joe let out another moan as he felt the burning sensation of the potent venom that he’d been blessedly oblivious to in his unconscious state.  Unable to open his eyes fully due to the puffiness of his eyelids he sought out his father’s hand for reassurance, grasping it with all the strength he could muster.  “Wish I could say I was fine Pa,” he croaked.  “But truth is I’ve never felt so much pain before in my whole life.”

 

Ben gently stroked the inflamed fingers swollen with stings in an attempt to comfort and help him through his suffering.  “I can see you’re hurting son but once we get you home I’ll make sure Paul gives you some laudanum and that’ll help straightaway.”

 

Gritting his teeth against his discomfort Joe nodded as Ben rose and located the canteen on his horses’ saddle in the darkness.  Taking off his bandana he soaked it with some of the water before returning to his son’s side.  “I’ll say this for you Joseph, when it comes to finding trouble you’re in a class of your own,” he admitted with the faintest hint of amusement as he tenderly bathed Joe’s heated skin.  “Do you feel like telling me what happened?”

 

Although he hurt like hell Joe willingly recalled his ordeal.  “The largest swarm of yellow jackets I’ve ever seen suddenly appeared out of nowhere and attacked me and Cooch Pa,” he informed with a shudder.  “I got thrown then those wasps came after me.  Couldn’t get away from them; they just kept buzzing round my head, stinging me over and over.”

 

The slight edge of fear in his voice was unmistakable as Ben nodded with understanding. It was hardly surprising Cochise had dislodged his rider then fled the scene in such a panic he reasoned as he tried to imagine Joe flailing around in an attempt to fight off the unprovoked assault; wondered at the feeling of terror he must have experienced as the swarm darted him from all directions on every exposed inch of flesh.

 

He’d heard of other victims over the years; men, women and children who’d been subjected to similar life-threatening frenzied attacks from thousands of the fiercely aggressive and territorial insects as they sought to protect their disturbed colony.

But thankfully at least Joe was young and strong and had lived to tell the tale; others hadn’t been so lucky Ben mused as his son croakily continued with his story.

 

“I couldn’t see where I was going and so when I fell into the stream I took a chance and just held my breath under the water as long as I could to try and escape the swarm.  But every time I surfaced they were still there so by the time they decided to call it a day and disappeared I was so cold I couldn’t even find the strength to climb up onto the bank.  Thought I was gonna drown for sure ‘cause I just kept sliding back into that freezing water again and again. Everything else is fuzzy after that so I guess I must have passed out as I don’t remember much about anything until I heard you yelling at me to get up.”

 

Ben nodded with a concerned smile.  “I needed you to wake up quickly and it was the only way I could think of to get your attention,” he explained.

 

“Oh I’m not complaining,” Joe replied hoarsely then tentatively touched his burning forehead and cheeks with a fingertip and drew in a sharp intake of breath.   “What’s wrong with my face Pa?” he asked in a panicky whisper.  “Why is it all swelled up so much?”

 

Ben gently soothed.   “Shush son….take it easy.  It’s just the effect from the wasps’ stings,” he told him gently in an attempt to pacify.  “But I know an old remedy using vinegar and onions that’ll soon bring down all the swelling and after a few days you’ll be as good as new. I guarantee it.”

 

This reassurance seemed to do the trick and Joe visibly relaxed.  “Just make sure Hoss don’t mistake me for a snack when he takes a whiff of me,” he huskily joked through his misery.  “Knowing his appetite he might think me an extra meal.”

 

“You’ve got my word,” Ben chuckled.  “Would you like a drink?  Your throat sounded mighty dry and sore.”

 

Although finding it painful to speak Joe shook his head.  “No thanks Pa.  Had more than my fill of water today,” he murmured with a grimace of disgust and then his tone changed slightly.  “But I wouldn’t mind a glass or two of your best brandy later, purely for medicinal purposes of course.”

 

Ben gave an amused grin just as the clouds above cleared away to leave a full moon shining down on the land.  He focused his eyes again on Joe’s face; the sight leaving an unsettling feeling of nausea churning his stomach.  But careful not to unduly alarm Ben said nothing and he continued to press the wetted bandana gently on the reddened flesh again.

 

Appreciating the coolness of the cloth as the heat on his skin started to ebb away Joe remained motionless and quiet for several minutes.  Ben thought he’d fallen asleep but then Joe gave out a heartfelt apologetic sigh, breaking the spell of stillness between them.   “Sorry about sounding off at you this morning Pa, I….”  Joe paused uncomfortably.  “Truth is I was out of line and had no right….no right at all considering the mess I’ve got myself into today.”

 

Ben’s face softened.  “That’s okay son.  It’s forgotten. I’m just relieved you’re all right now.”

 

Recalling again the horror of his ordeal hours before, a chill ran up along Joe’s spine.  “Don’t suppose I’d have stood a chance if I’d stayed in those freezing waters much longer,” he said and gave an involuntary shiver.  “Guess I was real lucky you just happened to be riding by and found me when you did.”

 

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Ben admitted as the corners of his eyes crinkled into a knowing smile.  “When your horse arrived home alone I came this way purposefully to search for you.  And just thank God I was able to find you in time and before it was too late.”

 

“I won’t argue with that,” Joe replied through his swollen lips, then sucked in a deep breath.  “But without meaning any disrespect Pa, I don’t reckon The Lord is the only one I should be grateful to for helping to save my life.”

 

Joe’s inference was clear and he tried to smile his heartfelt thanks, though wasn’t sure if he was successful through his bloated features.   But his gesture was understood and appreciated as Ben felt his eyes mist.  “It was a life worth saving,” he said simply as he gave Joe’s hand a gentle squeeze.

 

Suddenly the pain from the stings intensified and Joe began to shift uneasily within his father’s hold.  “How much longer before we get out of here Pa?” he asked fretfully, plainly feeling an urgent need to get home.  “I sure could do with some of Doc Martin’s formula as my whole body’s burning up like it’s on fire.”

 

Knowing patience was not one of his son’s virtues Ben nodded encouragingly.  “Shouldn’t be long now,” he answered, aware of Joe’s discomfort as he tenderly wrapped the loosened blanket tighter around his shoulders.  “Just take it easy and try to rest till your brothers arrive.”

 

Letting out a sigh of exasperation Joe sank back wearily when suddenly a thought came to him.  He raised his head slightly and through his swollen lids stared up into his father’s face with a quizzical look.   “How did you know to come looking for me along this trail Pa?” he asked in a husky whisper.  “Don’t often use it and only decided to at the last minute when I was leaving town.”

 

Ben returned his gaze.  “Oh just call it a niggling hunch that I’d find you if I came this way,” he said with a certainty that took Joe by surprise.

 

For a few moments, frowning with concentration, Joe pondered thoughtfully as his mind slipped back over time.  “Was it a niggling hunch that made you go out in that snow storm a few years back when you thought Adam was in trouble and you eventually found him lying up to his neck in a snowdrift, half frozen with a broken arm?” he asked eventually.

 

Ben nodded.

 

“And remember the time Hoss went off hunting alone and he got caught in that bear trap?  The only reason he survived to tell the tale was because you found him not long after he’d been snared.”  Joe paused and took a deep breath as the vision of his big brother returning home pale faced, badly injured but very much alive rose before him.  “You never did say why you suddenly decided to follow his trail Pa.  Was that due to a niggling hunch something was going to happen to him as well?”

 

Ben swallowed hard at the memory then nodded again without comment.

 

“So I’m guessing its the same niggling hunch that made you think something was going to happen to me this morning even though I kept telling you I’d be fine,” Joe stated wonderingly.

 

Ben smiled softly and rested his chin on the mass of curly brown hair.  “Yes son.  The exact same.”

 

Joe grew silent for a moment.   “Well in that case,” he responded at last.  “I reckon there ain’t no better thing for a father to possess than a niggling hunch sometimes,” he murmured as he snuggled down again into the protective embrace.

 

As Ben thought on the times he’d so nearly lost one of his sons his face darkened soberly, unconsciously tightening his grip as he listened to the reassuring sound of his youngest’s deep, easy breathing.   “No Joseph…I don’t reckon there is.”

 

 

 

The End