Summary:  From the Pinecone No 4 challenge this story grew into a WHN for The Truckee Strip.  Some Joe suffering again, but it’s what I like best!

Rated: K+  Word Count:  2272

                                                                        Never Too Old

The sky was pale above the Truckee Strip and by the fading light of evening Ben Cartwright and his two eldest sons pulled their mounts to a halt on a piece of high ground which rose from the edge of a vast lake of shimmering water.

Hidden from view within a stand of mingled fir and Ponderosa Pine they stared towards a tributary creek where they could just make out an instantly recognizable paint horse standing patiently and contentedly as it chomped at a small patch of green and luscious grass.  Meanwhile its rider, almost motionless and oblivious to the pairs of eyes focused on him, sat feet away with his back resting on the trunk of an old weather-beaten and gnarled oak tree.

With knees pulled under his chin and head bent forward, the only sign of life from the young man was the shudder of his slight frame and the occasional wiping of a tear-streaked face on the sleeve of his jacket.   His anguish was pitiful to see and to those watching the reason unashamedly obvious.

All three men felt impotent and useless and slightly uncomfortable as they viewed the distressing scene.   But unable to tear their gaze away they continued to stare at the much cherished figure until somewhere in the gloom of the forest a timber wolf yapped shrilly and broke the silent bond between them.  Without warning Hoss’ voice sounded out quietly and almost reverentially in the eerie landscape of dusk.

“I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.”

Two pairs of brown eyes widened in both surprise and delight.  “I didn’t realise you were familiar with the works of Tennyson Hoss?” Adam gently smiled in genuine admiration.  “Guess there’s more to my big brother than meets the eye!”

Blushing slightly Hoss cleared his throat in embarrassment.  “It’s just something I remember reading in one of them there poetry books Joe used to bring home from school.  You know, when he had to do extra homework for Miss Jones.  Don’t know why it stuck in my mind…it just did.  And it seemed appropriate to quote it somehow, given what little brother seems to be going through at the moment.”

“I really believe never a truer word was written,” Ben stated softly, his gaze never leaving his weeping son. “And I’m sure given time Joseph would agree.  But by the looks of it no matter what he’s been telling us over the past few weeks, he’s still not over losing Amy. Far from it in fact.”

Inwardly chiding himself for being taken in by Joe’s openly cheery façade Ben cast his eyes down for several long moments before raising his head with a heartfelt sigh. Exhaling loudly his mind momentarily flew back to relive a late night conversation with his youngest son a couple of months before.  “I remember Joe saying how he and Amy first met around here, just after all that trouble with Luther started.  Joe even mentioned he hoped to build a cabin near the creek and live there after they were married.  I never realised this was also the place he’s been disappearing to so he could grieve alone and without any of us knowing.”

Adam gave a sympathetic sigh then shook his head in disbelief.  “I really thought I knew my little brother inside out but looks like I was wrong.  He kept telling me everything was okay and he was coping well and I believed him without question.  He sure pulled the wool over my eyes.”

With his confusion mounting apace Hoss furrowed his brow.  “But if he’s still grieving so much for that little gal why’s he been pretending he was fine all this time?” he burst out.  “It never does anyone no good and certainly don’t make the pain go away any faster.  Why not tell us how he was feeling instead of keeping that pent up hurt inside until he was away from us all?”

One corner of Adam’s mouth lifted in a sardonic little half smile.  “He probably thought by hiding his feelings away we’d stop handling him with kid gloves and allow life to get back to normal.  But something just doesn’t sit right about this,” he pondered, lifting his black Stetson and scratching his head absently in bewilderment.  “Joe didn’t hide his feelings away when Julia Bulette died.  In fact he said later being able to openly grieve really helped him get over her death.  So why be so secretive this time?”

Showing an equal look of puzzlement on his broad face Hoss let a breath out in an audible hiss.  “Well something is making Joe act real strange and out of character,” he muttered before raising a questioning eyebrow as a worrying thought suddenly struck him.  “Dadburn it, you don’t reckon in some way little brother is holdin’ himself responsible for Amy being killed, do ya?  ‘Cause everybody, even Mr Bishop, said Joe did everything he could to save her and the only one to be blamed was that no good Jessup.”

Mulling over what Hoss had said Ben’s heart hammered painfully as he imagined the long nights of fretful sleep Joe may well have suffered in the privacy of his own room while agonising over the events leading to Amy’s death.

“Joe never did go into much detail about the fight he had in Luther’s barn.  In fact come to think of it he shied away from the subject every time it was brought up,” Ben finally acknowledged.  “He may well have been thinking if he’d only done things in a different way Amy might still be alive today.  And if that’s what’s bothering him I’m at a loss for once to know what to do.”

Ben’s head dropped down again and Adam watched him carefully for a few moments, instinctively realising the distress his father was feeling over his youngest son.   He exchanged an intuitive look with his brother behind their Pa’s back and a tiny light of collusion and understanding sparked in Hoss’ eyes.

Adam cleared his throat.  “Well there isn’t any one more stubborn than Joe when he gets a certain idea in his head.  And if he is holding himself accountable I know for a fact there’s nothing I could do or say that would persuade him otherwise.”

Hoss pointedly shifted in his saddle, the creaking of the leather sounding loud in the quiet of the night.  “He wouldn’t listen to me either Adam,” he admitted, following his elder brother’s train of thought.  “I’ve never known such a mulish individual as Joe when the fit takes him.  And after all these years I still haven’t worked out how to get him to change his mind when it needed changing.”

Ben spoke up without thinking.  “He certainly has inherited a lot of his mother in him,” he murmured distractedly.  “She could be as obstinate as the day is long some times as well.  Guess Joe is just the same.”

Hoss nodded.  “Reckon you’re right Pa.  But there might be one way to get to know just what our little brother is thinking,” he declared, giving his father a quick glance to see if he was listening.  “He might open up if he had a little help from another quarter…”

The big man’s voice trailed off as he awaited a response, his penetrating gaze never leaving his father’s face.

Shaken from his private reverie and conscious of the blue eyes now staring at him Ben frowned, his fatherly instincts telling him his sons were up to something.  He took a deep breath before giving a faint smile of apprehension.  “Come on then Hoss, spit it out.  What are you getting at?”

Hoss cleared his throat.  “Little Joe sure looks like he could do with some comforting right now and no mistake Pa,” he replied. “So if he is packing all the blame for Amy’s death in that mixed-up head of his, I reckon you’re the one to go and talk some sense into him right now.  He’ll listen to you.”

Ben pondered the suggestion for a few moments then almost reluctantly he shook his head.  “I don’t think so Hoss. If he’d wanted to talk your brother would have said something to me a long while ago.  But Joe’s made it very clear by his actions that he wants to be left alone and until he says different we should respect his decision.”

Hoss slapped his hand down on his knee in a frustrated gesture.  “But Pa I can’t bear to see Joe like this.   He’s hurtin’ so much and maybe blaming himself for no good reason.  It just ain’t fair!”

Leaning forward in his saddle Ben rested a hand lightly on his son’s shoulder. It pained him greatly to see the sadness in his eyes, hear the anguish in his voice.  “Hoss, I know how you’re feeling.  And believe me there’s nothing more I want to do than go down there and put my arms around Joseph like I did when he was a five year old grieving for his mother.  But…”

Ben paused and took a deep breath as an icy shiver ran up his spine at the memory.  He shuddered again before continuing.   “But Joe’s not a child anymore. He’s way past eighteen and deemed a man now.  He knows where I am if he needs me and I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate me interfering in his life, not any more.”

Refusing to accept his decision Hoss shook his head resolutely. “I’m sorry Pa but for once I reckon you’re dead wrong,” he said with rock-solid certainty.  “Knowing little brother like we do I guarantee whatever age he is Joe’s never gonna be too old to wish you were around to talk to when something’s troubling him, no matter how much he says different.  And only a fool would think otherwise.”

Adam eyed his father tenderly.  “Hoss is right Pa.   And none of us would call it interfering.  We’d call it caring.”

For a few moments Ben said nothing, just staring blankly into the distance as the sureness and affection in the tone of his son’s voices echoed around his head.

“I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn Pa, but I had to say what was on my mind or I’d bust a gut,” Hoss added with certainty.  “But I didn’t mean any offence by it.  You do know that, don’t you?”

Ben met his middle son’s gaze head-on.   “Of course I do son and no offence taken,” he said as he wiped a hand quickly across his moistened eyes.  “Just promise me no matter how cantankerous and bull-headed your Pa gets in the future, under no circumstances will you ever stop letting him know that he’s never too old to be told what needs telling.”

Hoss grinned crookedly as Ben exchanged a warm smile with him.  Then giving a look of thanks to the two men, touched a hand to the brim of his hat in farewell and gathered his reins.  “I’ll see you later at the house boys.  Just make sure Hop Sing keeps the dinner warm for when I get back with your brother.”

Although there was no sign of a moon to guide the weary traveller home, without protestation Adam and Hoss nodded then quietly urged their mounts slowly away through the trees in the direction of the Ponderosa, deep in thought about the sibling they’d left behind.

Ben waited until they’d disappeared from sight then moved off at a quicker pace and minutes later pulled his buckskin to stop feet away from where Joe was sitting.

Conscious of the fact his son was watching him Ben dismounted and after securing his horse studied the face staring at him.  Joe looked exhausted; his eyes rimmed red and his pallor paler than usual which didn’t go unnoticed by the observant father.

“You once told me you found it harder to talk now you weren’t a kid anymore Joseph,” Ben said with a faint degree of apprehension. ”But a wise brother of yours just told me he was sure you were in need of some urgent conversation and company right now.  However if you don’t want me to stay just say the word and I’ll leave you in peace; that’s a promise.”

Without a second thought Joe shook his head and smiled a flicker of welcome. Ben squatted down by his son’s side as Joe gave a loud sniff; searching his father’s beloved weathered face filled with sympathy and understanding like a little boy lost.   For a moment he thought he saw tears also brimming in the caring brown eyes and a momentary expression of relief flashed across Joe’s face as he intuitively sensed his father knew the true reason for his continued heartache.

“I’m glad you stopped by Pa.  I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to talk to you for a long while,” he whispered.  “It’s been going round and round in my head till I was dizzy, about the fight with Jessup and whether I could have saved Amy that day.”

Ben smiled and laid a loving hand on his son’s arm.  “I know Joe,” he soothed quietly, tightening his grip.  “And I’m here now to listen.  I’ll always be here for as long as you need me.”

The End