Summary:  A WHN and WHI for ‘The Code’, where both Hoss and Joe struggle with the outcome.

Rated K (4,120 words)

 

A Brother’s Code

Hoss was still scared.

As he knelt beside his brother offering what comfort he could, he kept thinking back to what Joe had said to him the night he was defending his friend Johnny Chapman in a heated debate with his family. Johnny had been humiliated and accused of being scared when he wouldn’t stand up to a gunfighter in the Saloon and Hoss had tried to diffuse the discussion by suggesting that Johnny would get over it. But Joe claimed Hoss didn’t understand.

“How would you know, you’ve never been afraid of anything in your whole life,” Joe had spat back at Hoss with absolute certainty.

But Hoss knew better and shook his head.

“That ain’t true Joe….”

But Joe wasn’t listening.

Hoss had been scared many times, but not afraid in the way Joe was talking about. His fear was greater…much greater.
His fear was the kind that kept him up all night, scared that his kid brother might not make it through to the morning after being injured or shot. It was the kind where you were too scared to go to sleep for fear of a repeating nightmare, in which he and Adam would argue over who would care for Cochise.

Perhaps it was time, Hoss thought, to sit Joe down and talk to him about what really scared him.

Losing his kid brother.

Brought back to his senses by the sound of more retching, Hoss allowed himself to breathe, knowing that this time Joe would be okay. Or at least it appeared so.

The past twelve hours had terrified Hoss in a way he had never experienced before. So much seemed out of his control.

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

It all started quite harmlessly in the saloon, where Joe was for once trying hard not to get riled. He seemed to instinctively know he was being goaded, and didn’t want any part of it. Well, at least that was his plan.

Joe had already met the smooth talking Easterner from St. Louis, Mr. Fitts, who seemed to have a knack for drawing a crowd. But what Joe didn’t realize was that this man’s real agenda was to sucker some young, unsuspecting cowboy into a gunfight with his gun slinging partner Dan Taggart.

The plan was simple where Taggart would push every button, igniting the ego of any cowboy. Joe had tried his best, explaining that he “was just havin’ a nice friendly beer in a public bar.”

But Taggart wouldn’t back down and deliberately shoved Joe, causing him to spill his beer. Chairs were pushed back and a space became instantly available for gun play. As part of the well rehearsed plan, however, Fitts suggested the challenge be taken out on the street where innocent people were less apt to get hurt. Then, playing his role perfectly, Taggart demanded that Joe meet him at the old warehouse situated at the end of town at six-thirty the next morning.
With all eyes on him Joe felt forced to agree, living up to the “Code” of the west. A code where once you were called out you answered like a man… or retreated like a coward.

In his heart Joe knew he didn’t want anything to do with the gunfight, but the unspoken code left him no choice. And no one was going to call him a coward, especially his friends.

By the time Joe got back to ranch after unsuccessfully trying to call the whole thing off with Taggart, both Hoss and his Pa were at their wits’ end. They each tried their best to convince Joe that the gunfight was senseless and not worth dying for.

Unfortunately Adam had been away for some time, and it was moments like this where his absence was sadly missed. For three against one had often worked in the past, persuading Joe to see reason and change his mind.

Adam in the past would skillfully present the logical perspective, while Ben would impose his parental authority. Hoss, on the other hand, had always tried to get through to Joe just by being his brother, gently trying to offer another alternative.

But unlike Hoss, Joe was not always a good listener, and nor did he see things when his ego was involved.

This time Ben had tried his best, but realized he had overstepped his mark. He had wielded his authority as if speaking to a child, which he knew in his heart was the best way to convince Joe to do exactly the opposite. Ben also knew that thirty years ago if he was in Joe’s shoes he would also have done exactly the same thing; he would have risked his life in the name of honour.

The pull of a young man’s ego had a power all its own, easily willing a person to make bad choices.

As the evening wore on, Ben worried that his authority had only fueled Joe’s determination to live up to the code, so when Hoss offered to talk to Joe…Ben was agreeable.

Hoss was more than happy to see if he could change Joe’s mind and was somewhat perplexed by the fact that his Pa had suggested he would have been in the same predicament if he was thirty years younger.

Hoss simply valued life differently. He understood the Code and the importance of self respect-but at what cost? For him nothing was that important; he cherished life completely.

Up in Joe’s room Hoss was careful not to upset or argue against his brother, and agreed that Joe was caught between a rock and a hard place.
A man’s honour could drive you into a corner real fast-and Joe was stuck good.

“Dad burnit Joe, it ain’t worth getting killed over.”

He could see Joe was struggling and even offered to head into town and give Taggart a piece of his mind, but Joe felt strongly that his “big brother” help would only make matters worse.

Hoss hoped that while Joe explained he was still “thinkin on it,” he would also consider his family. For in Hoss’s mind there was more at stake than Joe’s pride.

Sitting quietly, Joe looked quite lost, but he knew with Hoss he was blessed with something that no one could ever take away.

“Thanks,” Joe said quietly.

“For what?” Hoss questioned.

“For being my brother.”

With that, Hoss slowly moved to the door, hoping that Joe was considering his family after all. But as he said goodnight to his brother, one thing Hoss knew for sure; he would get little relief from the knot in his stomach that night.

Lying back on his bed, Joe stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. Surely an answer would come to him. Sitting up, he stroked his gun belt, contemplating how foolish it was to willingly go up against a known gunslinger. He had heard rumours that this man Taggart had his share of “notches”, a term used sarcastically by Fritz in the saloon.

Joe also knew there was no honour in killing a man, but he also couldn’t bear to be called a coward. And he couldn’t seem to separate the two. So having reached an impasse, his frustration got the better of him and he quickly wrote his family a note, just in case he never made it home. But he was tired and distraught, and the words just wouldn’t come; the useless note was crushed and slammed back at his desk.

“What’s the use,” thought Joe, and before he knew it he had his gun belt on and was heading to the warehouse at the edge of town.

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

The morning ride to town was bitterly cold and Joe could feel the effects of having not slept throughout the night. He knew there was a good chance his reflexes would be slow, and wondered again why he was doing something so foolish. But he kept moving, spurred on by his ego.

As he got closer to town, Joe had to keep his wits about him. It disturbed him to see so many people up early to witness the gun fight.

“Oh, God, what am I doing here?”

It became pretty clear to Joe that the townsfolk weren’t there because they cared about him; the only ones who cared were at home.

The cheers were not for Joe, but rather to signal the gunfight would go on as planned. Joe was living up to the expectations of the Code, and that was all that mattered. No one seemed concerned about what his arrival really meant-someone was about to be shot.

As he got closer his pride and his ego, were finally being challenged by the love of his family. Doubt was creeping in. Joe’s chest began to heave in sheer panic, realizing that his life could be over in a matter of minutes. And for what?

“This can’t be happening…Pa.”

Soon the townsfolk had surrounded his horse, egging him on with words of encouragement. Words that had brought him to this place.

Dismounting Joe was forced to turn his thoughts away from his family and what might have been. His choice had been made and the code had been upheld.

He could see Taggart flexing his hand as if following some ritual warm-up and his custom made holster didn’t go unnoticed, either. Joe instinctively knew the longer he waited the worse the outcome.

And in a moment when all things ceased to exist, Joe’s reflexes responded with deadly certainty. Taggert fell to his knees shot in the arm, while Joe swayed standing up, dazed by cheers erupting around him.

“What happened?” he thought.

Joe continued to stand rooted to his spot, his chest heaving as adrenalin coursed through his body. Sucking in as much air as he could he wasn’t certain what to do next. He was vaguely aware of some money being shoved into his hands, but could have cared less. Confused and hurt by his friends, Joe threw the cash to the ground. He was exhausted and not even sure if he could make the ride home, for reality had settled in and Joe felt numb.

It took all his strength to mount Cochise and as he rode away from the crowd his body trembled reminding him how close he had come to the unthinkable. Joe couldn’t wait to see Hoss and his Pa.

Luckily he didn’t have to wait long, for as he rounded the corner he practically ran into his anxious family. The moment was charged with relief with no one quite certain of what to say or do. Joe’s eyes reached out, but was unable to find what he sought; the welcome he desperately needed was not there. No words were exchanged… simply a nod as the horses were pulled round and all three of them galloped out of town.

With both Hoss and his Pa behind him, Joe felt an overwhelming need to apologize, but still no words were exchanged. He sensed the physical tension as he tried to focus on the road ahead.

Joe was convinced his Pa was holding himself together until he got home. The lecture would be inevitable. Hoss, on the other hand, looked angry, and kept a conspicuous distance.

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

Hoss had really hoped that his talk with his brother had made a difference, but when he discovered that morning that Joe had left he knew he had failed. Joe’s ego had won the debate. A debate as far as Hoss was concerned never seemed to factor in his family.

Telling his Pa that Joe had gone was just another reason why Hoss wasn’t feelin’ overly friendly as he rode behind Joe.

“Always leaving me to break bad news to Pa, ain’t ya little brother,” Hoss thought to himself.

It was just outside an hour ago that Hoss recalled watching his Pa almost slip down the stairs in his haste to get to town, once he realized Joe had left. And Hoss also knew for certain that his Pa felt responsible, unable to change Joe’s mind. But Hoss didn’t feel guilty; he knew it was difficult to compete with Joe’s ego. His Pa didn’t stand a chance.

Seeing the exhaustion etching new lines on his Pa’s face made it even more difficult for Hoss to shake his resentment. Worry wouldn’t bury his Pa, but if Joe didn’t learn how to temper his ways, his Pa’s health would suffer. Hoss was sure of it.

A parent can only manage so much.

When Hoss and his Pa had both heard the gunshots, it was like someone had sucked the oxygen out of their air. Gasping they both charged their horses dangerously down the street. How could Joe have such total disregard for the feelings of others, left to worry in the path of his self-destruction?

Although there was a part of Hoss that just wanted to reach out and squeeze his brother’s arm, he just couldn’t, not this time.

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

For Joe the ride home was exhausting; his hands wouldn’t warm up, making it hard to hold onto the reins. He just wanted to sleep and retreat into the warm confines of his bed, where his world wasn’t so complicated. Now and again his head would bob up, startled by that moment when you almost fall asleep.

As Joe continued riding he began to sense something wasn’t quite right. The path ahead was beginning to blur and the niggling pain in his side just didn’t seem to want to go away.

Trying to sit up straight he swallowed continuously, quietly cursing the notion of throwing up. In his mind it was humiliating, a sign of weakness.

Pulling Cochise to the side of the road Joe stopped abruptly, knowing his family wasn’t far behind. He waved at them signaling he was okay, but he could see Hoss was getting ready to dismount as well.

The effort to get off Cochise was excruciating, but nothing compared to the pain he suffered each time he retched into the bushes. Groaning Joe fell to his knees… feeling like he was going to pass out.

“I’ve got you Joe. Lean back…”

Joe could feel the warmth of his brother’s body and wished he could call it a day…. right there and then. He’d needed this closeness and took it gladly…whatever Hoss had to offer.

“Thanks, Hoss…my side hurts like the blazes.”

Reaching inside his jacket, Joe gently felt the offending area.

“Well, I guess my reflexes weren’t as good as I thought.”

Joe’s attempt at humour was short-lived as he withdrew his bloodied hand. Gently pulling Joe’s arm away, Hoss could now see the wound that was well hidden by his jacket. How could they have missed it? Joe had looked just fine as he met up with them on his horse.

But then pride had a way of concealing the truth and Hoss knew instantly that Joe would have never let on that he was hurt in front of the town.

And there was a good chance that Joe simply didn’t notice.

Hoss carefully eased Joe to the ground, knowing that his younger brother was now hurting in earnest.

“Always full of surprises, aren’t you little brother. Let me have a look at ya.”

Gently, Hoss removed Joe’s jacket to get a better look at the wound. Removing his bandana Hoss applied as much pressure as he could to stop the bleeding, but still there was more blood than he would have liked and the ride out of town hadn’t helped.

However, Joe wasn’t Hoss’s only concern; the other was running in his direction. He had seen his Pa dismount instantly once he realized that Joe wasn’t just sick to his stomach.

“What is it…what’s wrong?”
.
“It looks like Joe didn’t escape uninjured as we thought, Pa. Let’s get him up on your horse, and then I’ll head back to town and fetch Doc.”

It took some doing, but Hoss eventually got Joe positioned in front of his Pa to continue the long ride home. He wasn’t sure who he was more worried for, Joe, who continued to drift in and out, or his Pa who clutched his son.

By the time Hoss returned with Doc Martin, Joe was settled in his own bed and Hop Sing was orbiting the scene as he had done so many times in the past. Sitting comfortably beside Joe, Hoss couldn’t remember how many times he had sat with his brother. He loved him…there was no doubt about that, and as usual he clung to the Doc’s prognosis that everything would be alright. Hoss was used to meeting the needs of his brother, but he could never get used to seeing his brother suffer.

Holding Joe’s left hand, Hoss figured he knew every callous that suggested this hand was accustomed to holding a gun. And thank God this hand was fast enough.

But staring at his brother’s still form, Hoss’s anger just wouldn’t let go. He knew that Joe’s injuries were sometimes the result of great courage and sometimes just plain bad luck. However this time Hoss believed his brother’s injuries might have been avoided. They were the result of his own action.

The Code only had the power you gave it.

Hoss recalled telling Joe he understood why he felt he had to follow through with gunfight, he also remembered telling Joe he didn’t like it. Didn’t that count for something?

Joe was not the only victim; his family suffered too.

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

Over the next three days Joe recovered predictably, but was encouraged to stay in bed. And although Joe felt much better, he remained confused with Hoss’s behavior. He seemed to be avoiding him and on more than one occasion Hoss had found an excuse why he couldn’t play checkers; a pastime welcomed when bedridden.

It seemed this time Hoss couldn’t quite forgive Joe for causing his family so much worry. He needed Joe to realize that sometimes his actions had consequences that didn’t just affect him.

But sadly rather than confronting Joe, Hoss simply avoided him; leaving Joe with the impression he just didn’t care.

To make matters worse, Joe began to have doubts about his friends, who were all too prepared to wager his life in a gunfight. Eventually Joe took Hoss aside, for he couldn’t stand to be at odds with the one person he truly counted on as a friend.

“What’s eatin’ you, brother? I told ya I was sorry I caused Pa to worry. I survived didn’t I? Heck, Hoss, Pa ain’t mad, so why are you?”

But Hoss knew very well why his Pa had let the gunfight go. Ben believed he had handled the issue poorly, and given that he would have done the same thing as Joe, he didn’t feel he was in any position to pass judgment.

“You just don’t get it, do you little brother? You never know when enough is enough. You always want to push things to the limit, even when it affects us all…especially Pa. ”

But Joe still wasn’t buying it, so Hoss laid it out on the table.

“Why couldn’t you have just walked away, isn’t it enough to know that your family is proud of you….why do you always have to prove something?” yelled Hoss.

“You wouldn’t understand,” pleaded Joe.

And with that Joe left the house and headed for the barn.

Nothing more was said for some time, and Hoss was convinced that Joe would continue as always-pushing back hard at all the dangers life had to offer.

Walking away was never enough.

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

Warm weather had a way of letting things pass, and eventually Hoss and Joe were able to share once again what they both cherished most; their friendship. But Hoss would never completely relax when it came to Joe’s welfare. For he knew in his heart that Joe’s passion ruled his actions and common sense didn’t stand a chance.

With the arrival of summer, the brothers always welcomed the trips down to the lake for a late evening swim, and even with Adam away they still carried on the tradition. Sometimes their friends from neighbouring ranches joined them, and sometimes they went by themselves. But whenever there was a group of them, it didn’t take much for the challenges to begin.

This summer, even after Joe’s close call with Taggart, was no different.

Daredevil behavior was inevitable, and as usual Joe was more susceptible than most. No matter what the age, when you put a group of boisterous men together, the summer nights always brought out the youthful bravado that scorned caution.

The rope swing had been around for years-moved now and again, but always positioned perfectly so if the run was fast enough and timed just right, you could avoid the jagged rocks below.

At least that’s what they would say to their Pa when other youths had gotten seriously injured.

They would all start off slow using the lower rope to get wet. Hoss always enjoyed this initial plunge choosing to stay with the swing that wasn’t too high, and positioned safely over deep water. Like his brother, Hoss was known to do some foolish things, but for the most part he always seemed to know his boundaries.

Joe on the other hand, pushed his boundaries as far as he could; he loved the edge.

Once everyone had had a turn, the challenges began in earnest and they all climbed up to where the larger rope dangled in defiance. Not everyone felt confident enough to swing from that height and everyone knew you had to be fast. Hoss had never tried it and often wished someone would just cut the fool thing down. This swing had Joe’s ego written all over it.

For Joe this particular rope swing offered a challenge he couldn’t refuse, especially when taunted by his peers.

“Come on, Cartwright, whatcha waitin’ for, Miller’s already swung.”

Joe could see Johnny Miller in the water below shrieking his success and challenging others to beat his distance.

“I don’t know Joe…this rope looks like it’s frayed at the top pretty badly. Maybe you shouldn’t chance it. It barely held when Miller swung out. Let’s wait and get a new rope,” urged Hoss.

“Ah, Hoss, stop worryin’… he’s bigger than me…. the rope will hold.”

Hoss just stood there looking at the scene before him, as if he’d seen it play out a hundred times. He could feel his heart quicken as he saw Joe’s eyes dance with the anticipation of beating Miller’s mark. One of the fellas cautioned Joe about the sun being in his eyes, but Hoss knew Joe was already blinded by his own ego.

“Come on Joe, this is foolish.”

But Joe wasn’t listening, he was focused, judging how far back to make his run to the rope.

“We don’t have all day, Cartwright. Ya ain’t yella, are ya?”

Joe loved an audience and he looked around to make sure everyone was watching. Everyone was-everyone except Hoss.

Hoss’s face was deliberately turned away looking out towards the water…his arms clasped tightly around his chest. He felt helpless one more time. Worried and angry with his brother.

“Your turn, Joe…bet you can’t clear Miller’s mark,” they teased. “Make your family proud.”

That comment got Hoss’s attention and all his resentment of his brother’s reckless actions came flooding back.

Joe was slightly distracted by his brother’s behavior, for it hadn’t been that long since they were at odds over the guns fight with Taggart. But it took only a moment for the cheering to chase away any doubts Joe had in not meeting the challenge. He began his slow, calculated run to the rope.

For a second he glanced once more at his brother who had turned back to watch his run. Stalling ever so briefly, Joe caught the look on Hoss’s face; a look that would haunt him for years to come.

No brother should suffer like that.

And in that moment Joe realized he was the source of his brother’s pain. He stopped running as if he had hit a brick wall.

Perhaps it was maturity finally pulling up the reins of youth, but Joe didn’t bat an eyelash when all the heckling filled the air. He simply walked up to Hoss…shook some water from his hair and smiled…ever so slightly.

“Let’s go home, brother.”

Astonished, Hoss just stood there staring at Joe, who had finally made a choice that wasn’t just about him. Gently, Joe squeezed Hoss’s arm and whispered,

“I’ve had enough.”

The End