Summary:   A Camp in the Pines story.

Joe decides to take Adam’s advice and turns to a journal to work through something that is weighing on his soul.

Word Count: 14,277  Rated: K+

                                                           Joe’s Journal

Author’s Chapter Notes:

In the world of Bonanza there is no such thing as a set date for each season. Cheaux questioned me about the year I was using in relation to the season I was starting with. I couldn’t understand it at first until I saw an episode that made her comment make sense and the time of Bonanza even less.

My reasoning for the year I’m using is this:

Season 1 = 1859 Joe is 17

Season 2 = 1860 Joe is 18

Season 3 = 1861 Joe is 19

Season 4 = 1862 Joe is 20

Season 5 = 1863 Joe is 21

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Joe’s Journal

August 16, 1863

A few years ago I asked Adam why he kept a journal and he told me something about recording memories. I couldn’t understand why he needed to do that. Aren’t our memories in our heads, our minds, that’s why they’re memories? He had laughed at me, which made me feel pretty darn stupid at the time and I wanted to put my fist through his face. Apparently, he could see I was upset ( geesh, upset was putting it mildly!). Anyhow, he explained it to me some more. He said he did it because he didn’t ever want to forget them because they were too precious and as a person gets older he makes more memories and some of the older ones might be lost. Of course I took the opportunity to make a crack about his advanced age. After he finished scowling at me, he told me keeping a journal could help work out problems I couldn’t resolve. A journal could help me figure out something that was eating away at me. Back then I thought it was a pretty silly idea and a complete waste of time; time I could be doing something else like breaking one of those wild horses, running Cochise through a meadow, walking in the moonlight with a pretty girl. Why the heck would I want to sit and do something that was just so . . . Adam?

Now years later I can understand how this might help. I’ve had something rolling around in my head . . . and in my heart; something  I feel I can’t talk to anyone about.  I just have to work it in my own time. So I thought I’d take Adam’s advice for once and try this writing thing. Maybe, just maybe, putting my thoughts on paper will release some of the anger, hurt and disappointment I feel. God knows I want it to. I can’t go on feeling like this, but I can’t talk to anyone about it either. I just can’t. You would think after all these years they would have figured that there are times I need to handle things on my own and to stop pushing, but apparently they haven’t. Hoss wheedles, Adam more or less demands, and Pa, he’s the worst in so many ways. Pa tries to comfort, says he’ll understand, that I can talk to him. But how do I talk to him about something that centers mostly on him? No, I have to work this out alone.

Just a few days ago Pa went missing; Buck had come home with blood on his saddle and Pa’s favorite rifle was missing. It was the one my brothers and I chipped in together to get him. It had an inlaid silver “C” and it sure was a beaut. Hoss was able to trace Buck back to an abandoned camp where we found more tracks and a fragment of a Huntsville Prison uniform. I wanted to follow the trail, but my brothers thought the right thing to do was report what we found to the proper authorities.

When we reached town we went straight to Roy’s office, told him our story and gave him the scrap of cloth. What did Roy do? He said he’d wire the prison to see if there were any escaped prisoners and while he waited for an answer he would get up a posse. I really don’t know how I held it all together that day, but I did.  It didn’t sit well with any of us the way Roy seemed to be dragging his feet. Adam told Roy that we weren’t waiting around. We left town and went back to the camp to pick up the trail which led us to this relay station. It took patience and some money from Adam to get the little man talking. Now if I would have had my way I would have beat it out of him, but Adam did it the right way. The station agent told us that three men had stopped to water their horses and get some vittles. The man said he noticed something wrapped in an oil skin when he was watering the horses. He took a peek and said it was the prettiest darn rifle he’d ever saw. We didn’t need him to describe it. We knew it was Pa’s. It took some more money to find out where the men had gone. According to that—that extortionist—they went in three different directions. We each picked a man and split up.

I got lucky. My man had headed for Coby. I figured it would be a piece of cake finding him, but I didn’t count on one man owning the whole town and its residents. Everyone I asked didn’t know anything, and I was getting nowhere fast. That was alright; I took a chapter from Adam’s book and wrote out a draft worth $5000 to anyone who could tell me where to find the man I was looking for. I figured I’d have more than one taker, after all it was $5000, and who could pass that up? Who could was everyone in that God forsaken town.

I was knocked out and when I regained consciousness I found myself in a clearing staring at my father’s rifle. As my eyes focused I finally laid eyes on the man who killed my father. Before I could get to him, however, I was hauled over to an older man who punched me unceremoniously in the face before he announced he was Colonel Abel Chapin and demanded to know what I wanted with his son Billy. Although loopy from both the knock on the head and the fist to the face, I looked the man in the eyes, and in a voice filled with hatred told him I wanted to kill his son for murdering my father.  I could see in his eyes that he believed me, but he still wouldn’t hand over his son. Instead, he ordered his men to remove me from his land and warned me to stay away or be killed, then he left.

Billy told the other men to let me go and get out of there. I knew what he was going to do. He was going to make sure I never came after him again, and he was going to do it with my father’s rifle. Needless to say I had different thoughts on the subject. A doozy of a fight followed which concluded with me pointing Pa’s rifle at him, my finger on the trigger, but I didn’t kill him. I took him to his father, who after hearing not just from me, but his men also, promised to hold him until Roy could get there to take him into custody.

I headed straight to Virginia City. I told Roy everything and that the Colonel was expecting him. Then Roy gave me the best news I have ever heard in my life—Pa was alive! I couldn’t believe it. My legs must have given out on me because the next thing I knew I was sitting in a chair and Roy was pressing a glass of whiskey into my hand. When I was finally able to focus my thoughts I shot out of that office like a bullet from a gun. I started home at a run, but common sense finally took over and I slowed down. Cochise had had a long ride already, and no matter how anxious I was to see Pa I also didn’t want to kill my horse.

On the way back to the ranch I thought about Billy Chapin and myself. We both had been given a lot in this world, but we were so different from each other, or at least I hope we are. Both of us grew up never having to struggle for anything, and yet Billy had already done a term in prison, and he had shot a man and left him to die. The way he spoke to those men, as if they were nothing and he was the lord and master over them astounded me; I would never put on airs like that. I can only attribute it to the way we were raised. Pa never handed anything to me on a silver platter. I had to work the same as the rest of the men on the ranch; he also would never cover for me like Billy’s father did. Pa was a just man, and even though it would kill him to do it, he would let the law do its job. Like my brothers we were brought up to believe we were no better than anyone else, even if our name is Cartwright  . . . especially since our name is Cartwright.

When I came riding around the corner of the barn Pa and my brothers were standing there waiting for me. I almost lost it right then and there when I saw Pa. My breath caught when I saw his arm in a sling, but he was alive. The rifle in my hand announced to everyone that I had found my man. In order to get some kind of control over myself, I took my time securing Cochise to the hitching rail before I slowly made my way over to Pa. He looked tired, really tired, but there was something else, something I was afraid to recognize. I clasped his arm when I finally stood in front of him and told him I couldn’t believe it when Roy said he was alive. How lame was there? Here I am standing before the man I thought was dead and all I could say was what Roy told me. Hoss had taken the rifle out of my hand and when Adam commented that I found my man, I realized what the look in Pa’s eyes was.

It was fear and his next word broke my heart. All he said was my name, but that was enough to convey all his doubts about me. After everything, after all these years and he still thinks I could kill a man in cold blood. Apparently by the way my brothers were watching me, they thought the same thing. They really must think I’m incapable of learning anything at all. I may have occasionally strayed from the path Pa brought us up on, but I always came back to it before it was too late. I made up my mind right then and there—If they wanted to think like that, then who was I to stop them. I uttered some inane comment about it being Pa’s rifle that stopped me and they seemed happy . . . and relieved. I tried to push the anger and disappointment I felt aside, to try and just rejoice in the fact that Pa was alive and well. I tried I really did, but this time it just wouldn’t go away.

Pa started to talk to me, something about me looking tired, but then this stranger, whom I hadn’t noticed before, climbed up onto his wagon in order to leave and Pa turned away from me. And that was it. I was forgotten about. Pa talked to that man for a while, later I found out he was a traveling peddler who had found and helped Pa. After he left Pa put his arm around Hoss and with Adam they walked just slightly ahead of me and into the house. Once we were inside, Adam and Hoss insisted on Pa going to bed. I was left standing by the door alone, watching as my brothers personally escorted Pa up to bed.  I don’t mean to sound like everything should revolve around me; it’s just that after all that had happened—after believing I’d lost my Pa forever—I just wanted some more time with him. I guess Pa was right, I was tired, so I headed for bed myself.

Furthermore I didn’t feel up to dealing with my brothers at that moment. I also wanted some time to myself so I could lick my wounds, to try and push them out of sight, but I couldn’t. Like all wounds left untreated, they began to fester. My feelings of hurt and disappointment just grew and I couldn’t bury them deep down and forget about them anymore. I also couldn’t talk to my family about them. I tried to put on a mask and pretend all was well, but apparently I didn’t do a very good job. I hate the fact that I can’t hide my feelings like Adam. Everything I feel is right there on my face for all to see. Usually my family tries to wait me out; to give me time to come to terms with what’s bothering me, but for some reason it’s different this time, especially with Pa. He seems to be on a mission to discover everything that I’m feeling, everything I’m thinking. It’s like he’s trying to figure out who I am.

Pa’s calling me down for dinner. He’s saying if I don’t get down there right now then Hop Sing was going to quit and go back to China. I have to laugh at that. What Pa, Adam, and especially Hoss don’t know is that Hop Sing would never leave us. Over the years we have had quite a few conversations about just about everything. He has taught me a lot, not that I have always listened. Maybe if I had my butt would have been saved from Pa’s necessary talks. Hop Sing says that he’d never be happy if he left us, we’re more of a family to him than any of his numerous cousins. I have to try really hard not to laugh when Hop Sing goes on one of his rampages. I’m the only one who knows what my friend is saying in Cantonese. Oh, if they only knew. There goes Pa again; I best get down there before he sends one of my brothers up, or Heaven forbid, he comes up himself.

August 17, 1863

Well, it seems to go from bad to worse. I was out mending fences with Hoss today when he started in on me about what was wrong. He wasn’t as subtle as he normally is. He sounded more like Adam this time, and I sure didn’t need that! I kept telling him to lay off, but would he listen? Heck no! He just kept nagging and nagging. Needless to say, I lost my temper. I sure did. Believe me, it wasn’t just a little explosion either. I ain’t proud to say it, but I hit my big brother. Not just once but twice! I had to leave because if I would’ve stayed more might have happened, and deep down under all this anger, I didn’t want that to happen. I took myself off to town and to the Bucket of Blood. On the ride in I pretty much calmed down, thank God, or I think I would of drunk myself into oblivion; If that would have happened I don’t think my hide would’ve been safe from Pa.

Once I felt it was safe, I headed home. After bedding Cochise down for the night, I quietly snuck into the house long after my family should have been asleep. I know I should have expected it, but I just about jumped out of my skin when Pa called out to me as I put my foot on the first step. What followed was one of the worse lectures I’ve had in a long time. What could I say in self-defense? Sorry, Pa but I’m mad at all of you? Or I’m disappointed that you all think so little of me? I can’t do that; I just can’t say anything to him now. Not until I figure it out for myself. I don’t wannna say anything that I’d regret later, so instead I kept my eyes plastered to the floor. I can’t believe it, I’m trying to do what they always tell me, think before you act. Well I am thinking!

August 18, 1863

I never want a repeat of what happened at breakfast this morning. The looks that Hoss kept giving me just about broke my heart. Adam just sat there glaring at me. Then there was Pa. I hate seeing the disappointment in his eyes. And that’s what this is all about, disappointment.  No nott disappointment but . . . Actually it is about disappointment, but not Pa’s disappointment in me, it’s my disappointment in Pa for his lack of faith in me. After all these years I would think he’d have more confidence in me. I guess I was wrong. He acted like he did all those years ago when I headed out after Red Twilight. What did they expect? I was only eighteen and Twilight almost killed Hoss. At the time I actually thought that Hoss was really gonna die. Then to add insult to injury, he tried to kill Adam. Would I have killed Twilight if Adam hadn’t talked me out of it? I honestly don’t think I would have done it. Between my blustering and Adam’s words, I had enough time to cool that hot temper of mine so I could think straight. Yet it wasn’t just Pa who thought that way, it was Hoss too. He said to me that he was glad that I didn’t kill Twilight. Does he actually think I would do that? It hurt then that Pa and Hoss would believe I could murder another man, and it still hurts. To this day, I’m still not sure about what Adam actually thought I would do. Maybe they think they have a reason to think that, but if they had some faith in me they would realize there wasn’t anything to fear.

August 21, 1863

Everything’s been quiet lately, which kind of unnerves me. Pa, Adam and Hoss had pushed so hard and now they ain’t asking a thing. We just go about our work, but that’s it. It seems like they’re all watching what they say to me, scared that they might say the wrong thing and set me off. That sure don’t help my mood any. I was so on edge that I found myself losing my temper even more often than not.

For a while there I couldn’t even escape to the barn to just talk to Cooch. It seemed like every time I did one of them was sneaking up behind me. The only time I was able to be me was when I’m out working alone or just out for a run with Cooch.  Heck, I couldn’t even go visit Mama without one of them showing up. It felt like they was watching and following me every time I walked out the door, hoping to catch me in an unguarded moment talking to Cooch or Mama. I was constantly having to look over my shoulder.

Now they’re doing the complete opposite. I still look over my shoulder when I’m out, constantly checking the other side of the barn door, expecting to see one of them there. But I haven’t even seen a puff of dust. The silence and disregard are even more annoying. Hell, it’s got me tied in knots, not knowing what to expect.

August 23, 1863

I was so mad after last night that I could barely tolerate sitting through church services this morning with them. As soon as services were over I was on Cochise and gone. I couldn’t look any of them in the face without the fear of letting go of everything. Never did I realize my family could be so conniving . . . I guess I completely forgot about the time that Pa had been scheming against Hoss when he was helping Jock Henry. I’ll tell you, the look on everyone’s face when that sorry looking, little mare beat Gatlin, Ellery Watson’s horse, by a mile was priceless. Not only did Pa finally beat Mr. Watson in a horse race, but he got Jock to quit his job as assistant tax collector. The last laugh was on Pa, though. Jock’s job was only temporary.  Well, this time they put all their manipulative skills to work against me.

Last night there was a dance in Virginia City, and I had asked Becky Ranford to go. We were having a great time. Becky looked wonderful in that blue dress she wore. I convinced her to go outside to talk, and maybe a little more, if I were lucky. Becky wanted to talk alright. She started asking me how I’d been, how things were going at home. Then she made a comment about seeing me in town the other day and that I seemed really upset. That should have clued me in on what was going to happen, but I never thought that sweet Becky would be part of their conspiracy. She continued to press me about what was wrong because I seemed upset to her. There was nothing wrong with me last night. I was there to have fun, dance, and maybe steal a kiss from a pretty girl. Right then and there I knew I had been had. My family had gotten to Becky and pulled her in to their plans. I was so mad that I did something I had never done before—I walked away from my date, telling her to have Adam take her home. Being that Adam didn’t have a date, he had ridden Sport to the dance. Well, he may have come with Sport, but Sport was leaving with me.

I didn’t go home right away. I took off for the lake, not Mama’s grave, but another spot that I had found where they couldn’t find me. I stayed there for quite some time. This time when I went home I didn’t go in through the front door, but instead used my window. I knew Pa would be sitting down there waiting, and there was no way I was going to talk to him.

I came down this morning, dressed in my Sunday best, just as everyone was finishing breakfast. Instead of joining them I walked straight out the door to saddle Cochise for church. As they came out of the house I was already on my horse and on my way. I could hear Pa call out to me, but I kept going, pretending not to hear him. When they finally made it to church I was already in my seat, staring straight ahead waiting for service to start. My family took their seats with Pa sitting next to me. An old habit from when I was little and he had to try and keep me still. Poor Pa, that was almost an impossible feat back then. I could tell that Pa wanted to talk when he cleared his throat and turned toward me. He said my name, but before I got myself in further trouble by not answering, the organ signaled the start of the first hymn.

After services I hightailed it home, stuffed a few things in my saddle bags, and left a note saying that I would be back after I worked things out, asking them to please let me be. When it started to get dark I finally made camp for the night next to a small stream. Here I now sit with nothing but this here journal to keep me company. I had to glance up at Cochise, grateful he couldn’t read or I’d have someone else upset with me, and this time it would be deserved.

August 24, 1863

Another day of thinking and I’m getting nowhere with any of this. I’m sitting in front of my campfire again, in a different spot on the ranch. I never planned on leaving the ranch, but I needed to keep moving. You know, it’s pretty easy to hide when you’re roaming around a thousand square acres.  As I rode through the majestic wonders—majestic wonders? Adam must really be rubbing off on me. First a journal, now poetry-like words; next thing I’ll be doing is quoting Shakespeare. Anyhow, I didn’t even notice any of the beauty as Cochise set his own path with very little guidance from me; I was too deep into my own little world for anything to register. Now that I was alone with nothing else to do or concentrate on, things from the past keep coming back to me, times when they treated me as if I didn’t have a brain in my head.

Not too long ago I had a difficult decision to make about one of my good friends Seth. I was on my way to see him when I heard an explosion coming from the mine that he worked with Sara’s father. When I got there Sara’s father was buried under what seemed to be a ton of ruble. Seth was standing over him with a beam in his hand and his soon to be father-in-law was dead. Seth said it was a mercy killing. That the older man was begging him to put him out of his misery. My first thought was to go to the sheriff, but Seth talked me out of it. He didn’t want Sara to know. Well—being a good friend I went along with Seth’s story. I still don’t know why I did what I did. It was eating away at me. Especially after I heard that Seth was in an all-night poker game. I went to town to confront him and he told me that he was going to San Francisco to have an assay done on some of the rock from the mine. Needless to say this didn’t set well with me. Seth seemed like he wasn’t upset at all. He asked me to watch over Sara while he was gone. I was able to convince her to stay at the ranch until Seth returned, which she agreed to do. We, Sara and I, had a nice time remembering adventures from our childhood. We had some emotional moments, but what did I expect, sunshine and puppy dog tails? Seth came back and Sara went home. The house had seemed so empty without her.

After all that my conscience began eating away at me. I started having nightmares and waking the family, God, how I hate that. Pa came up to talk to me one evening and I sorta explained what happened. But I didn’t use names or what really happened. Pa said I was wrong about what I thought, that something like that was up to Mother Nature. When I told him that I didn’t know the difference between right and wrong I could tell he was disappointed in me. He just couldn’t understand my view and no matter what I said, I was wrong. . .

August 25, 1863

I’m at one of my favorite spots on the ranch, a spot they have yet to find. Sitting in a small meadow overlooking the lake, I’m shaded from the sun by the trees, listening to the water lapping against the shore, and find that it’s helping to calm my soul. I’m still not ready to go home. I need more time to think through things, to clear my mind, and let go of the past hurts before I can even try to deal with this latest one.

I fell asleep by the fire last night and didn’t even finish my thoughts on the Seth. I knew back then that I had to face everything in order to have some closure, some peace. I told Pa that I wanted to go away for a while to think things through. At first I felt like he was treating me like a kid, then he wanted me to combine business with it and go look at some trees. That would help tremendously, lots of work and no time to think. Before I could respond he thought better of it, but still asked me to ride out with Adam looking for strays. What could I say? I nodded my head in response and Pa left my room, leaving me feeling smaller than before. I knew why he was sending me with Adam. Adam was going to drill me all day as to what was wrong. So what happens? I had another of my famous nightmares and who should come into my room? No one other than Adam. Could it get any worse? It did.

Adam started picking at me bit by bit and I finally confessed. So what does my eldest brother, the one I have always looked up to, say? Same thing as Pa. They are right and I’m completely wrong. The little boy can’t figure out right from wrong by himself. Needless to say I was feeling pretty bad about myself. After Adam and I got back, I rode out to see Seth. I was going to tell him we needed to do the right thing. He wasn’t at the mine so I stopped by Sara’s house. To rub salt into the wound, she was trying on her wedding dress. Lord, did she ever look beautiful. Seeing Sara as much as I had been at the time, left me with some very conflicting feelings. I had to get out of there, get away from Sara and my feelings. I told her not to bother telling Seth I was there. I had changed my mind and would keep Seth’s secret. I just couldn’t hurt Sara like that.

I was now on a mission. I was going to leave for a while and get my head straight. I was packing my bag and who happens to walk in? Adam! Once again I got the lecture about right and wrong. He then tells me that he told Pa. My temper had already started to get out of hand, and that statement was the last straw. I was sure Pa would have gone out to see Sara. I didn’t want that to happen. Adam stopped me before I could walk out of my room and told me that “two wrongs don’t make a right.” But does one man, okay make it two men, make it right just because they believe otherwise? I knocked him aside and stormed out before it was too late. I had to find Pa.

The look on Pa’s face as he came out of the barn wasn’t very encouraging, and that’s putting it mildly. Pa was mad and he was disappointed in me. He more or less ordered me to change my opinion and set the record straight. It was clear neither Pa nor Adam believed I was mature enough to make the right decision. The thing was, I had pretty much come to the same conclusion on my own. I headed out to the mine to see Seth and words were said. It actually came down to murder. Seth had found a big vein of silver and everything that had happened came out. Sara’s father didn’t like him and didn’t want him to marry Sara. The explosion was the perfect opportunity for Seth to rid himself of the one obstacle that stood in his way of obtaining everything he ever wanted—wealth. When he realized that I was going to tell the truth, I became the new obstacle and Seth wasn’t about to let that happen. Let’s just say I was sore for days, but Seth was in jail where he belonged. Sara moved to San Francisco and I was left feeling . . . What was I feeling? Used, betrayed, and a fool.  Here I was 21 and I felt like a child again, I was a disappointment to my family.

August 26, 1863

I continue to move around the ranch and the memories keep coming back. Times when I felt the pang of injustice from the way my family treated me. One of those times happened in Martinsville, a ghost town I literally stumbled into. I can still remember it like it was yesterday; waking up to find my horse gone and not a drop of water in sight. When I finally made it to my feet all I saw was desert, nothing but miles upon miles of hot, sandy, desolate, endless desert. I couldn’t figure out which way to go, my mind had felt so muddled and fuzzy. That man—I can think of a lot harsher words to use, but all I can hear is Pa admonishing me for my language; and if he ever read this that’s exactly what would happen—that man must have hit me pretty hard because I could barely tell up from down. That’s what I get for being concerned about other people, and on my birthday of all days. I turned 21 that day. 21, I was legally a man, no longer a child. No longer someone to have his head patted and dismissed like a ten-year old.  Yeah, sure I was a man alright, but only in my mind and my mind alone.

I really thought I was going to die that day as I wandered through the desert with nothing on the horizon. I figured I was a goner that is until I saw that little town up ahead. I can still feel the despair that coursed through me when I realized that Martinville was nothing but a ghost town. That last bit of hope collapsed as I did. When I woke up I found myself in a bed with a cold cloth on my head, and an older man and young woman, Louise, sitting next to me. They were real, I swear to this day, and I’ll continue to swear it to my grave that they were real. I helped that town gain their freedom from a gang of outlaws who were terrorizing them. Wouldn’t you know that Pa and my brothers would show up when everything was over. They found me in the rocks outside of town where I had had the final showdown with Mathews. They kept trying to convince me that it wasn’t real.

Adam, ever the logical one, told me it was my imagination cause by the lump on my head, being in the sun for so long and going without water. Then what did Pa do? He hands me this line about a man knowing something deep down the he doesn’t need to argue or prove it. Just knowing is enough. What a crock of . . . Pa was doing what he always did; pats me on the head and agrees with me, just to pacify me so I can’t prove my point. “It’s okay, Little Joe, I believe you think you saw a whole town of people.” That’s it, it was over as far as Pa was concerned. I saw Hoss and Adam shake their heads and look at each other as if to say, “There he goes again with another of his wild stories.” Right then and there I decided I would never utter another word about Martinville. Can you imagine what they would have thought if I told them about Louise especially about kissing her? They would have had me committed faster than Hoss can polish off a plate of Hop Sing’s doughnuts.

Martinville was just one more reason to feel justified in their convictions of thinking of me as still being a child.

August 27, 1863

A funny thing ran through my head today as I rode along the lake. I remembered the time Adam and Hoss had bought themselves a thoroughbred horse, all the way from Kentucky. When I finally heard what they had done, I couldn’t believe they had the nerve to do it knowing how Pa felt about stock that couldn’t pull their weight. There was no possible way that horse could cut cattle or do any of the things that were necessary on a ranch. My brothers were positive that the horse, or giraffe as Pa called him, would win the annual Virginia City race. It was a sure thing, Adam had said. And they thought I had some hair-brained ideas! When they came to see me at Mr. Milford’s ranch, where I was breaking horses, I got the whole story. Hoss had used the horse as security for $160 in a poker game with Lafe at the livery stable, and lost it all. I’ll tell you, Adam was a bit cranky that day when they got home, and now I can understand why.  I knew it the moment he yanked his new rifle out of my hands while I was admiring it. Boy, was it a beauty, too.  Good thing it wasn’t loaded or I might have shot my foot off! I had my feet up on the settee again, and Pa promptly reminded his “little boy” to get his feet off the furniture.

That’s when Pa got the letter from Mr. Milford asking if he could send one of us down to help with  breaking some of his horses. It turned out he was offering quite a bit of money–$12 a head. Naturally, Adam and Hoss started discussing which of them should go since Pa could only spare one of us. It was like I wasn’t even in the room and they were the only two people on the ranch that could break horses. Finally I had had enough and spoke up since no one seemed willing to count me in on the action, including Pa. I piped up and said that I could sit a horse as well as they could—well you should have seen the looks I got. My brothers weren’t happy, that’s for sure. Pa had us draw matches, longest got to go. Lady Luck was with me that day, I pulled the longest, and I didn’t even have to cheat to do it. Then it was open season on my money saving habits.

Okay, I’ll agree, at the time they weren’t the best. Whenever I had any money, I was either playing poker, or courting a pretty girl. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t change, especially after seeing Adam’s new rifle. I had been admiring that one for a long time in the shop window, but I was always short on cash, and when I had some I never thought about saving for something. It was always the here and now. You know, Pa even agreed with them about it. I may be the youngest and I may be the shortest, but that’s no call for them to talk over my head like I wasn’t even in the room.

I left for the Milfords and I was determined to prove them wrong. When I found out how many Mr. Milford had tried to break, I knew I had my work cut out or me. I figured there was no time like the present to start working on my money skills. I told Mr. Milford that I would charge him $12 a head for the ones that hadn’t been ridden, and $15 a head for the ones that had thrown him already. He asked if Pa put me up to that, like I didn’t have a mind of my own. To be honest, it didn’t really rub me the wrong way like it does when my family says it.

After a couple weeks working there, Adam and Hoss showed up out of the blue. I knew right away they were up to something, just not what it was. After a little prodding and some cutting remarks, they finally came out with it. They wanted to borrow $160 so they could get the horse back. Since they were the ones give me so much grief about my money habits, I decided to give it right back. I sure didn’t understand their reaction when I asked them for security, which I would have known at the time, it would’ve made the whole conversation that much more enjoyable. We argued quite a bit about it, but I stood firm. Then Adam just had to throw out that half-brother thing. We’ve never used that against each other. As far as I was concerned we were full brothers, it didn’t matter to me that we had different mothers. It hurt when Adam said that, but it also strengthen my resolve and made me hit where it would hurt the most. They asked me what I wanted. Boy, was that a loaded question.

I told them I wanted Hoss’ new saddle and Adam’s new rifle. Nope, they sure weren’t happy, not happy at all. They offered me a third of the winnings and a third of the horse. How could they expect me to take that as security? The race hadn’t been won, and I knew that no matter how good the horse was, there could always be another horse that was better. Once again I thought of Ellery’s horse, Gatlin, and how that sorry little mare beat him. No, nothing was a shoe in. We finally agreed that I would get one-third of the horse and winnings if their horse won. If their horse lost I got all of the horse and Adam’s new rifle. They weren’t happy about it, especially Adam, but I sure was. This was actually a no lose situation for me, one way or another I would profit from it.

To sweeten the pot more for me, Mr. Milford made me an offer. He thought that one of the horses I broke, Blackie, was good enough to beat my brother’s horse and all others. Here again was another so called shoe in. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse . . . Well I couldn’t refuse once I made a few changes. If I rode Blackie and he won I’d get $500, all of Adam and Hoss’ horse and Adam’s new rifle. If their horse won I’d get a third of the horse and a third of the winnings. If neither horse won I got all of the horse and the rifle. No matter what I came out a winner.

I had to laugh when Mr. Milford showed me the English saddle he had. He said it would give me an advantage because of its light weight. It was light alright, it hardly weighed anything at all. The only thing we had to do was keep this a secret from not only Adam and Hoss, but from Mrs. Milford, too.

On the day of the race my brothers showed up and found me and Mr. Milford grooming Blackie. It didn’t take long for them to put two and two together and figure out what I was up to. The looks they gave me caused me shrink back and feel like a child all over again. Once I was on that horse I knew I wasn’t a child anymore. I was confident and knew I could win that race. At the starting line I took some guff from Adam about the saddle, but if it made a difference I decided I would take anything he handed out. There was some debate with Clem about the legality of the saddle, but Pa backed Mr. Milford. Or maybe he was backing me. When the gun went off I kept Blackie at an even pace, but I never let Adam get too far ahead of me. Once we rounded the oak tree, I let Blackie go. Adam and I kept it pretty even for a while, that is until we reached town. I bent low over Blackie and let him fly. To Adam’s surprise crossed the finish line a good length ahead of him. Later, my brothers couldn’t believe that I traded the thoroughbred to Mr. Milford for Blackie. He wanted that horse so bad I couldn’t say no to him. Besides, like I told Pa, Blackie was working stock, he’d earn his keep.

The only thing better than Adam handing over his rifle to me that day, was the look on his face when he found out Hoss had placed a bet on me and not him. For once his anger wasn’t turned on me. Pa and I stood there and had a good chuckle watching Hoss running down the street with Adam in pursuit. When Pa and I were talking later about everything that had happened with the horses, I found out that he asked them for security when they wanted the money for the entry fee and side bets. For once I was one up on my brothers.  And it felt good!

August 28, 1863

I rode up to Boulder Bay today. It’s so peaceful here, all the rock formations makes you feel like you’re alone in the world. I’ve climbed to one of my favorite spots where the rocks hang out over the lake. I was feeling really relaxed and soaking up the sun when I started to remember another time that Pa thought I would seek out vengeance on someone. Duke Miller had it coming, and I know I talked a big game at the time. Heck, I even came unglued at the trial and almost found myself in jail for quite a while. But just like the time when Red Twilight shot Hoss, and just recently when I tracked Billy Chapin down, Pa thought I’d do the unthinkable—kill a man in cold blood.

Sometimes all the doubt that I see around me starts to eat away at what I thought I knew until I’m not sure if I would have killed Twilight or not. It makes me question if it was Adam’s words or my sense of right and wrong that stopped me. The same happened with the whole Duke Miller incident. Was it me that pulled it together, or was it Pa’s words this time? No, I know what it was, it was me. I didn’t have anyone with me when I had that rifle aimed at Chapin, and my finger on the trigger; it was the same with Duke Miller in the barber shop. It would have been easy to kill him, but I couldn’t. I know right from wrong, and to take a man’s life by cold blooded murder is wrong. I know deep down where it counts that it’s wrong. Even though the bible says an “An eye for an eye,” it also says “Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.”  Vengeance belongs to God, and I know that, but in the meantime the law would handle it. I know what is right and I don’t need to be reminded like I’m a child.

Duke Miller was a bad one, worse than any before, but not as bad as Chapin. Chapin shot Pa and left him for dead. Heck, as far as we knew, he was dead. Miller on the other killed a friend in cold blood and got away with it! And all over a dang hair-cut. He couldn’t wait his turn, thinking he was better than everyone else.  Then there was Carlos, he had to prove a point and wouldn’t let Miller bully him. . . It ended up costing him his life. I tried to reason with them, to protect Carlos from what was bound to happen and ended up being knocked out cold.  What is it with people knocking me out constantly? I’m going to be witless before I’m 25. I wasn’t out long, maybe just seconds before I came to. Unfortunately it was long enough for Miller to kill Carlos. It was such a horrific turn of events. One minute I’m in the barber shop waiting my turn and kidding with Roy about his lack of hair; then after Roy left and I sat down Miller walked in and demanded the chair. How could it change that fast? An enjoyable afternoon turned deadly. Now Carlos was dead, Sam and Frank were scared stiff, and there sat Miller as calm as could be in the barber chair, demanding a haircut and shave.

Roy arrested Miller and his two friends and they stood trial, but because of some fancy footwork by their high-priced attorney to confuse Sam and Frank and making my testimony irrelevant because I was out cold when the shot was fired, they got off scot-free. Boy did I lose it. I went after Miller and it took Pa and a few others to pull me off of him. Needless to say, the judge wasn’t happy and my mouth made it even worse. I just couldn’t stop myself. The injustice of it all, the failure of the justice system was just too much. By the time Pa did get me to close my big mouth, the judge had sentenced me to 30 days. Only because of some quick finagling by Pa I didn’t have to serve the time. But the judge warned everyone that no was to put a bullet into Miller, and if anyone did the judge would make sure he was hung by the neck until dead. I was beyond reason, and I sure wasn’t going to let the judge threatened me. Pa had to drag me out of there and he sure wasn’t happy. I know I really disappointed him and made him feel ashamed of me that day, buy my rage and hate were at such a height that I didn’t care.

Looking back, there were three things that drove me; the senseless murder of a friend, the justice system letting everyone down, and one of my worst fears, a young boy being left fatherless. That is a fear that has haunted me ever since Mama died.  Paco, like me had already lost his mother. Now, his father was gone and he was left all alone except for his grandparent in Mexico. Paco and I had always gotten along. He was a good kid and had always looked up to me, the same way I look up to Adam and Hoss. Now he was looking to me for guidance, and in my thirst for vengeance I led him down the wrong road.

Pa tore into me that night. I was cleaning my gun, and trying to think of a way to avenge Carlos when he came out of the kitchen and gave me the tongue lashing of my life. I was still angry, and hadn’t had a chance to cool off enough to think rationally, when Pa spoke his peace. He really drove his point home when he told me to tell Paco that the Sacred Book lies; that vengeance belongs to Joe Cartwright and Paco Rodriguez. That Men have the God given right to turn themselves into jungle animals. He thought that that I hadn’t learned anything that he had taught me over the years. He was disappointed that I didn’t know what was wrong and what was right, but he was wrong, I knew what was right, I’d always known that, but I was too pig-headed to admit it to him. I was still filled with rage, hatred, and disappointment at being let down by the legal system that I had always put so much faith into, I just wanted some kind of justice for Carlos and Paco.

Somehow I had to put my feelings aside and convince Paco that vengeance on our part was wrong, that it wasn’t up to us to decide on the fate of another person.  Even in the dim lighting I could see the hate smoldering in his dark eyes, telling me that I wasn’t doing a very good job. Paco wanted revenge. He remembered that I had said I was going to kill Miller and he asked me if I still meant it. I couldn’t meet the boy’s eyes, a sure sign as everyone knew that what was going to come out of my mouth was going to be a lie; for I did want the man dead, just not by my hand. I wanted the law to do its job and do it right. I tried to make him understand that I sometimes say things when I’m angry and forget about the truths that I was taught when I was a child. Even though the court said Miller was innocent, even though we knew different, we had to understand that the courts aren’t perfect, but God is. I told him he had to believe that God would punish Miller, we had to believe and trust in God.

Paco asked me if I wanted him to go to his grandparents in Juarez and leave vengeance to God, and that’s when I caught a movement in the corner of my eye. Pa was standing in the doorway listening, and he didn’t look too happy. I hated when he had his arms cross like he did and that look on his face . . . I had to look away from Paco before I told him that that was what I wanted. Paco told me he’d go if I took him. I glanced at Pa again and it seemed like he knew what I was going to say and was disappointed in me. I made up an excuse as to why I couldn’t do it and told him that Adam or Hoss would take him.

Wouldn’t you know it, the boy called my bluff; he wanted to know what things I had to do. I looked at him and saw the doubt in his eyes. I glanced back at Pa and sure enough there was the disappointment I had expected. I couldn’t take them both on so I gave in and told Paco I’d take him to Juarez. After I agreed to go I said goodnight and walked over to the door, I took a last look at the boy, but I barely glanced at Pa I told him we were leaving the next day before I brushed past him. By that point I understood that Pa was right, but the fact that he stood there listening to every word I said hurt; it just spoke of how much he didn’t trust me.

After some sleep, and time to really think, I knew I was wrong to act as I did. Someday I’ll learn to get that temper of mine under control. Pa and my brothers keep telling me if I don’t I’ll end up paying to price for it, and it’ll really cost me. Again, I’ve got to learn to think first and act later.

We packed up almost everything from Paco’s home, but before I could finish tying everything down Pa pulled me away from the others. He wanted my word that I’d go straight to Juarez and then back home, I wasn’t to go after Miller. I gave him my word, but Pa questioned me about it, there was that doubt again. I assured him I wouldn’t go after Miller, and to make him feel more at ease I told him that I understood he actually wanted me to talk things out with myself more than with Paco. I collected Paco and we headed for town; I had a bank draft to cash before heading for Mexico.

When Paco and I got to the bank Sam ran up to tell us that Miller was back and had gone into the barber shop. That’s when it really hit me about how wrong my words of vengeance were. Paco grabbed the rifle and wanted to avenge his father. I was able to talk him out of it and told him to stay put. I thought I had made my point, but I thought wrong. He might have stayed put and let it go if Sam hadn’t been there calling me a coward and going on about letting Miller get away with it. Paco, to protect my name and avenge his father, grabbed the rifle and as I walked out of the bank I saw him running into the barber shop. My heart became wedged in my throat and I ran after him. Just as I reached the door I heard the gun go off. When I charged into the shop, to my relief I found the boy unharmed, but I also found a gun to my head. I was able to get them to let Paco go, but when I turned to leave I found my way blocked. Miller wanted me to stay, he wanted to make sure I remembered him.

The fight that followed sure was a humdinger, and to this day I have no idea how I took on all three of them and came out ahead. I also got my revenge. Now knowing how vain Miller was I had Frank shave his head, then I pushed him out into the street. That revenge was so much sweeter than killing the man. Paco jumped the man and took out his hurt and anger on him, and I let him go for a bit before I pulled him off. I knew the boy had to get it out of his system before he could move forward, and he did; besides, I had already had my go at him, it was only fair that Paco was allowed to get his licks in. We left Miller on the ground begging to be left alone and the good people of Virginia City having a good laugh at his expense. Killing him would have been too fast and too easy, humiliating him was so much better. I know Pa found out about this, how could he not, but he never said a word when I returned from Mexico. I thought, no I hoped, he would. I wanted some kind of recognition that I had actually controlled myself and didn’t do something stupid. I heard it from everyone else, even Roy, but never from my family.

August 28, 1863 Evening

I decided to make camp here at Boulder Bay, why ride on when this is as good of a spot as any. It’s a beautiful, clear night, if it wasn’t for having to eat something and being able to see, I wouldn’t have even bothered with a fire, instead I would have laid there in the dark star-gazing. But here I sit again writing out my thoughts and feelings. It’s done me a lot of good to write this all out, all of the things that have been bothering me over the years, but didn’t dare talk to anyone about, and I still don’t dare. I feel that if I did they would think I was being childish for holding on to these feelings for so long, that they aren’t worth the paper I’m writing them on, but to me they’re worth something and I still feel each one of them. That’s why this time away is so important.

Adam and I have always argued about the Civil War. A few years ago before the war even started we actually came to blows about it and Adam decided to leave home in order to avoid tearing the family apart. Thanks to Pa, I finally woke up and realized what was at stake. I went after Adam to convince him to come home. The only problem was that he still thought I was a southern sympathizer. This really came to a head when Nevada had to make a choice, either join the Union or become part of the Confederacy. I was courting Morvath Terry at the time and her father, Judge Terry, was a strong supporter of the South.

Adam being Adam didn’t think I had a brain in my head and was easily swayed to the South because of her. I tried to explain to him that I was seeing Morvath not her father or his political views, but Adam wouldn’t listen. He kept insisting they were one in the same. We almost came to blows over it, but Pa walked into the barn just in time. Adam decided this was a good time to take a trip so we could all cool off. He took Hoss with him and they left the next morning. Pa was supposed to leave soon after that to represent the Ponderosa at the statehood convention, then Judge Terry pulled a slick one. With Adam and Hoss gone, and me being the only other Cartwright at home, he lodged a protest stating that because the Ponderosa was so large it should have two representatives. He believed that I would vote against statehood and let Nevada become a confederate state.

Funny thing is, that was what everyone thought. Pa never pushed me which way to go, he just told me to do what I believed in. Adam and Hoss showed up just before the vote having some important information to share about the actor Walter Craigsmuir, who turned out to be a British spy. Boy, I bet that stuck in Adam’s craw. Older Brother sure was surprised that I spoke up in his defense and allowed him to have his say. Nevada became a state, but I lost Morvath. Judge Terry was going back home to the South and she felt it was her duty to go with him. I don’t even think my family realized what I lost that day. Adam didn’t even recognize that I had a will of my own and wasn’t easily led around by some pretty girl. That’s what hurts, he was fast to condemn me, but won’t admit he was wrong and give me some credit.

August 29, 1863

I should do this more often, I’m seeing parts of the Ponderosa that I haven’t seen in a long time. I’m reminded of the beauty of this land and my love for it. Sometimes I feel restless and I want to see something beyond the boundaries of the ranch, to see the world, but now I realize that everything I want and need is right here. There’s nothing that can equal the beauty of the bluff over the lake where Mama is. This is where I was born, and this is where I’ll die.

Thinking on it, I believe that the feeling of restlessness comes from feeling that I’m not an equal to my brothers. Like I told Pa once, I feel that I’ll never be old enough, good enough or smart enough to do things. It’s really not about proving myself to them, it’s proving myself to me. Proving I can do something on my own, without someone following behind me ready to pick up the pieces. You would think I’d learn. I’ve done this twice already; once when I decided to go up against Will Poavey for a timber contract and once when I decided to play sheriff. Pa, Adam, and Hoss decided it wasn’t worth it since the closest place that had the required timber was Buckhorn Meadow. It’s hard country there and wouldn’t be easy to get wagons up and down the cost was more than what it was worth.

At that time in my life I was rebelling, and I do mean rebelling. I wasn’t pulling my weight on the ranch; I spent most of my time in town drinking, playing poker and fighting. Three things that Pa didn’t think highly of; he also didn’t think much of the company I kept—Dave Donovan. At the time I thought he was everything I wanted to be. He didn’t need anyone and didn’t rely on anyone either. He drank hard and played even harder. In his opinion a family would only let you down. And sadly enough I agreed with him at the time. I felt like Hoss and Adam were constantly following me around and sticking their noses in my business. I finally had had it when they jumped into a fight I was having with Dave. We had a bet that I couldn’t stick with him for four rounds. I was well on my way until my brothers walked in and pulled me away and knocked poor Dave to the ground. I showed them how I felt about that. They each felt my left hook! Pa had sent them to find me and bring me home.

In order to show them I was a man, I told them to tell Pa I would be home later. And it was much later when I finally made it home. Not a very wise decision on my part. Once again I was subjected to one of Pa’s lectures. He was right too, and after getting a few things off my chest I finally told him so. Funny thing is, Pa told me he understood how I was feeling. Once all was said and done, I apologized to him and said that things would change and I promised I would start pulling my weight around the ranch. That’s when I saw the map on the table and asked what they were doing. Pa explained about the contract and how he longed to put it to Poavey, but it just wasn’t worth the headache.

Pa went up to bed, but I was too wound up to sleep. I ended up looking at the map again and my mind started going. I sat at Pa’s desk all night putting my plans together and figuring out the cost. Before I knew it, it was morning and Pa was coming down for breakfast. I explained to him that I thought we could go after that contract, but like usual I was brushed off, as if I didn’t know what I was talking about. That was one time I wasn’t going to let Pa do that to me. I kept pushing until he finally listened to me and looked at my plans. That was when Hoss and Adam came down. Of course Adam had to make a wise-crack about that being the most papers he’d seen me with since I was in school. He also didn’t take it seriously when Pa told him that I thought I could get the Sun Mountain contract. Once they decided to listen, they also decided they could do it for me. I insisted that it was my idea, and I was going to do it alone. Before I headed out to submit my bid, Pa wanted to show me something. He gave me a bundle of kindling and asked me to break them. No sweat I thought. How hard could it be to break a bit of thin wood in two? As I found out, it was impossible. Pa told me I that as a group they couldn’t be broken; then he showed me that individually they could be broken, the same as one of us. I wonder if he ever gave that same talk to Hoss and what happened when Hoss did break the stack in two? I bet Pa sure regretted having that talk with him.

I took my bid, and my ego, over to the Sun Mountain site. When I got there I wanted to check my figures again, so I set my papers down on the back of this buckboard that this skinny, older man was sitting on. He actually helped me with the multiplication on it. . You know, if Adam would have done that I’d have taken offence, but when this man did it didn’t bother me. I don’t know if it was because it was someone other than Adam, or if it was because I didn’t have time to take offence.  He commented on the fact that my bid was so low. I told him it was probably the first honest bid Sun Mountain ever had. I also told him that the owner was probably some old money-bag that didn’t have any idea what was going on. Later, after I turned my bid in, I found out that “old money-bag” was the man who helped me. I was sure I was done before I ever started. Surprised doesn’t even begin to tell you how I felt when he said that I won. Bert Crawford protested by saying the contract called for fir, not ponderosa pine. Mr. Hawkins asked me about that and I told him I was going to supply fir.

Of course Poavy spoke up and made a comment about Buckhorn Meadow. I assured Mr. Hawkins that I had it all accounted for in my figures, and I was awarded the contract. I tell you, it seemed like everything was against me that day. Crawford told me that I had to put down $5000 as a performance bond and it was due before sun-down, which didn’t give me time to go back to the ranch and ask Pa. My only choice was to go to the bank and try to get a loan. I didn’t think I had a chance in hell blazes of getting it. When Donovan and I met with Mr. Simpson at the bank, he asked me if the flume was Adam’s idea. Being the youngest, I was always walking in Adam’s shadow, never being seen as one who could come up with something like this. It’s always Adam. Adam’s the smart one, Adam’s the calm one. Adam is . . . well he’s Adam. He’s well respected and the one everyone would assume came up with this plan. Not this time though, this time it was all me! Heck, it didn’t even cross Adam’s mind to try it. I finally got him to give me a loan on my word alone, without Pa, or Adam, cosigning.

Needless to say I made every mistake in the book, starting with making Dave my foreman. When he blew up the flume it was the last straw. We were doing so good and were almost done with it and could start sending the logs downstream, but with one big bang it was all gone. My flume, my dream, even my pride was gone. I was done.

I went home with my tail between my legs, convinced that my family was right; I wasn’t old enough, smart enough, or good enough to do something like that. I forgot all about Pa’s lesson about being unbreakable when we stood together. Pa offered to help, as did my brothers, if I wanted it. He left it to me to make the choice. I then understood the meaning of family. Even though I had one more run in with good old Dave, we finished the flume and made the deadline. I also earned some recognition from Pa.

August 30, 1863

There are times that I think I should swear off women forever. I have had nothing but bad luck with them since I discovered there was more to them then just pulling their pigtails. I seem to fall in love too easily, or think that I have fallen in love. There were women like Julia, Amy and Laura who I would have loved until my dying day; then there were ones like Tirza—exotic, mysterious and dangerous. I was still hurting over Amy when Tirza came along and I think I was trying to fill the void that had been left in my life, but Tirza wasn’t Amy and I still thank God that that didn’t last.

At least Tirza didn’t play me the fool like Sylvie Ann did; unfortunately, it wasn’t until later that I found out what a tremendous fool I was. Not knowing that Sylvie Ann was in love with Brock I kept pursing her, even going as far as copying a part of Romeo and Juliet for her. Stupid, that’s all I can say now. I realized later, after Higler beat the tar out of me, that the whole thing was a joke. I thought I had had the last laugh when I arrested him. Little did I know that the last laugh was on me when someone broke him out of my jail while I was confronting Sylvie Ann about everything. She swore she didn’t know anything about it. Luckily, she found out and told me of Brock’s plan to kill a man that was coming in on the stage.

She also told me that I was just a kid, and needed to go home to my family. Do you know how it feels to have a woman that you’re interested in call you a kid? It hurts… Brock had figured that a kid was no match for the two hired guns that he had coming into town and that’s why he hired me. Can you believe the irony of it? I left home to prove I wasn’t a kid only to end up in a place where that’s what they thought I was. I decided that if they wanted a boy for the job I would give them one. I put on performance that would have made Adam’s friend, Edwin Booth, proud. I gave them the bumbling boy they wanted. One who couldn’t even find his own horse. Unknown to me, Sylvie Ann had taken Cochise and rode out to the Ponderosa to have Pa and my brothers come to town and save me from myself. To everyone’s surprise, I had a plan to stop the whole thing, but I didn’t know if it would work or if I would even survive it. I left Pa a note trying to explain it all and convey my feelings if the worse happened. I must have been scared witless because I called Pa “Dad” in the note. I’ve never called him that. He’s always been Pa to me. Thank God my plan worked. Not only did I survive, but the man I was trying to save did too. Unfortunately for Sylvie Ann, one of the hired guns killed Brock. Pa and my brothers arrived minutes after everything was said and done. I proved a few things that day, if only to myself. I wasn’t a boy any longer and I could be successful outside of the Ponderosa if I put my mind to it. I did admit to Pa that it was harder than I thought it would be, but I also received some recognition from not only Pa, but my brothers as well. I stayed on in Rubicon as sheriff until the real one came back. It was peaceful the rest of the time, but I was grateful when I finally made my way home.

August 31, 1863

I don’t know if Pa’s been out looking for me or not, or if he sent my brothers, but if he decided to give me this time I’m grateful for it. I’ve been gone for a week now and I feel as if I’m finally starting to clear my head. I think I can go home now and sit down with Pa to explain how I feel about things, especially about him having doubts on whether or not I would kill a man in order to seek vengeance. I have to make him understand that I do know right from wrong. He needs to understand that, and also understand that I can think things through and act maturely without him, Adam, or Hoss there to protect me and take over because I’m not capable. They have to realize that I am and treat me as such.

Not that long ago I was coming home on the stage from a buying trip, when the driver, Stubby, died while the stage was going at top speed. I was able to make it out of the window and to the top, but before I could get control of the horses the stage went over on its side. Luckily, other than the driver, everyone else was okay except for some cuts and bruises. We buried Stubby, some grudgingly, and I said a prayer for his soul. We doctored ourselves up as best as we could. We were going to start the 50 mile walk to Owl Creek when Benson mentioned we could cut through the arroyo and save a day. I agreed with him. Even though it was rough country, I knew that day would make a big difference.

Most of the other passengers weren’t cut out for making their way across the desert. Benson was the only other person who was use to something like this. The only problem with him was that he was awfully full of himself. I pretty much tolerated him. We needed him to help us out of this mess. Other than me, there was no one else who knew this country.

That first night we found an area to camp that was pretty much protected from the weather. Lory was taking things in stride and not complaining, but that Roberto, oh boy, he was a piece of work. He thought he was better than all of us because he was some kind of prince or something in his country. He was completely useless. I had to constantly tell him to take it easy on the water. We only had so much. Nora whined most of the time, but for some reason when you looked at her, you just expected it. Then there was Mr. Henshaw, he wasn’t too bad. He seemed fair enough for a while.

Everyone put a little more time in tending their wounds. Lory and I talked a bit about where we were going, and I guess there was a bit of flirting there, too. Benson was working on a walking stick to help his bum leg. He finally gave in and asked to borrow my knife so he could get the job done a bit faster. I told him it was in my saddlebags. He borrowed it alright and conveniently didn’t bother to return it, a fact that no one cared to remember later.

The second day was hard going. A wind storm kicked up and we needed to find shelter. Benson knew of an old line shack that wasn’t too far away. Saying it was old was being generous. The thing was ready to fall apart, but it did provide some shelter.

Now, Benson was the type of a man who thought he could have anything, and anyone, he wanted. He tried to have his way with Lory that night; she had gone out for some fresh air and to get away from all the bickering, but she wasn’t able to get away from Benson. Me being me, I had to step in and play the part of the knight in shining armor and rescue her. A few heated words and punches were exchanged, which would later come back to haunt me. After Benson finished insulting everyone, we all hunkered down and tried to get some sleep. Somewhere during the night, someone had killed Benson for the money he said he had on him. I found him when I woke up to secure the door that the wind had blown open. Nora woke screaming when she saw the knife in Benson’s body when I turned him over—my knife. As always with Eastern folks or foreigners everyone panicked because there was a killer among us. I may have been the voice of reason, or so I thought, but they only looked at the obvious, my knife stuck in Benson’s body. Now, if I were to kill a man I sure wouldn’t leave my knife sticking out of the body, only a complete fool would do that. But being that it was my knife, it was decided that I was the one to blame; everyone conveniently forgot that I didn’t have possession of that knife, and, of course, before I could do anything else Roberto had my gun and knocked me out cold with it. See, there it happened again! With as many times as this has happened, I’m still surprised I don’t have some serious brain damage already. When I finally came to I was tied up and propped against a wall. Lory took care of me and a little more, but when I accused Henshaw, she turned on me, she turned on me real fast.

Roberto and Henshaw demanded that I lead them out of there. They may have thought I was a murderer, but I was still good enough to take them to safety. I led them alright—I led them so far into the wilderness that they would never find their way out. I made my stand then. I told them that the real killer had to come forward or this was as far as we would go. Wouldn’t you know, it didn’t work, everyone stood their ground. They were doing pretty good of staggering the water supply, but when Henshaw offered it to me, Roberto told him I wasn’t to have any. The two argued until the canteen was thrown across the cave and started to spill. Once they got the top back on it Roberto came after me. Before I could even get my feet under me, Roberto had dished out quite a few punches, sending me rolling out of the cave. I was finally able to clear my head, and even with my hands tied, I gave as good as I got and even better. When the fight was done I was on my feet and Roberto was flat on the ground, after I had beat his self-righteous ass butt to the ground. I staggered back into the cave and slid down a wall. Lory came to me and Henshaw gave me some water. Then it came spilling out from those two. Henshaw was Lory’s father and she thought he had killed Benson and took the money, but since he was an ex-con she didn’t want to risk him going back to prison or worse being hung. He protested his innocence to her and the funny thing was he used my reasoning of why he would never have done it. He wasn’t fool enough to kill a man in a room full of people, when he could have gotten him anywhere else.

Nora and Roberto came back into the cave with a gun demanding the water. The fools were going to strike out on their own. When they left Henshaw grabbed my gun and went after them. He called out to Roberto and as both men went to fire, Nora stepped between them, taking Henshaw’s bullet. As she lay dying on the ground she confessed her love to Roberto. He told her he kept her secret all this time. He knew she had killed Benson. She was surprised and happy. But then Roberto made a fatal error. . . He asked where the money was. We all had our backs turned when a gun going off rent the air. When we turned we found Nora holding Roberto’s dead body. She had killed him because he didn’t really love her, he was only wanted the money. Nora told us that she had killed Benson because he promised to marry her but he lied. She said there never was any money, that he was a poor man who liked to pretend otherwise. She died with her arms still arm Roberto. I still can’t believe it, two people who knew the truth, and another who suspected her father but wanted to protect him. No one suspected me, I was just convenient, I was the innocent man who would go to the gallows to hide and protect everyone else.

The next morning Lory, her father and I started the long walk to Owls Point. Hoss met me there and I can’t tell you how glad I was to see him, actually he came in second. I was a lot happier to see all the water they had. He was getting ready to go out with a search party looking for us when we straggled in, we were filthy and our clothes in rags, but we were alive. After I was cleaned up and my hand taken care of, Hoss and I started for home. I don’t know who was more relieved for me to be back on the ranch, Pa or me. It was even nice to hear him tell me to take my feet off the table. It meant I was home, somewhere I wasn’t sure I would ever see again. I’ve never told him or Hoss everything that happened out there in the desert, they don’t need to know. It’s bad enough that I lived through it, but to tell them what happened to me isn’t something I want to lay on their shoulders. They didn’t need to be burdened with the knowledge of how close I came to dying out there. Even though I’m proud of myself for staying calm and not losing control of my temper, I felt I didn’t need the show of respect from Pa for how I handled it. Just having his arms around me when I walked in the door was enough for me.

****

Ben closed the journal and wiped at the moisture from his face with the back of his hand. Looking at his badly injured son lying in the bed next to him and seeing the multitude of bruises and cuts, a strong feeling of shame washed over him. Ben took the cloth from Joe’s forehead, and put it in the basin of cold water. Ringing out the excess water, he placed it back on his son’s forehead.

“I’m so sorry, Joseph, I never knew, never realized how much I’ve hurt you,” he whispered. “If—No when you’re better we’ll talk and I promise I’ll listen and not make light of anything you have to tell me.”

Chapter End Notes:

Many, many thanks to Cheaux for her tremendous help in editing and not letting me give up when I wanted to call it quits on everything. Oh, and Cheaux, I tried to condense, but I just couldn’t do it and still get what I wanted.

I want to credit the following episodes that are mentioned in this story:

• The Legacy
• Vengence
• The Quality of Mercy
• Twilight Town
• The Hayburner
• The Last Haircut
• The Quest
• The Tin Badge
• Five into the Wind

There are also small references to:

• The Julia Bulete Story
• The Truckee Strip
• Dark Star

I take my hat off to all the wonderful, writers, directors and actors who provided me with wonderful stories to draw from.