Ben paced backwards and forwards beside the bed where his unconscious son lay.  Joe hadn’t moved a muscle since being brought to the hotel by his brothers, followed by Doc Martin, his anxious father and Fred Harding.

Ben wanted Paul to talk to him.  Tell him what was wrong with Joseph.  He knew the doctor was trying his best, but that didn’t do his nerves any good.  They were already shot to pieces.

Paul Martin could see his old friend pacing back and forth from worry.  He was concerned himself about Little Joe’s pale face and the lack of response he was getting.  He smiled briefly to himself.  If there was one thing that remained constant in this world, it was Ben Cartwrights worry about his sons and about his youngest in particular.  Paul knew it wouldn’t matter how old Little Joe got, Ben would still worry every time the young man was physically hurt or struggling with something mentally.

Paul admonished himself and he road of nostalgia and reminded himself that he had a young patient to care for right now.  He dug around in his little black bag and pulled out a small cylindrical tube containing dark mustard-coloured powder.

The doctor was careful enough with the powder to make sure that he didn’t remove the cap before it was close enough to the patient.   The tube was only small in size and the quantity of powder equally small, but Paul didn’t want any of the other people in the room being overcome by the powerful fumes that were about to exude from it.

He held the tube expertly and at just the right distance underneath Little Joe’s nose to have the right effect.  He uncorked the cork stopper from the tube with his thumb and very slowly brought the tube back and forth underneath both nostrils.

Paul didn’t need to wait long to see the results.   Almost immediately Joe was pulled harshly from his unconscious state by the acrid smell of the smelling salts.  Once he had taken a second inhalation of the powder, he quickly diverted his head to avoid the smell that was invading his senses.  He almost felt sick to his stomach.

The tube was removed and the cork replaced at the neck.   Everyone in the room remained silent now as they waited for Joe to regain his bearings.

Joe could almost feel the silence in the room.  He turned his head to the front again and came face to face with the snow-white hair of Doctor Martin.  The smile in return was warm and friendly enough, but Joe could also read the offer of pity and understanding that he didn’t need right at the moment.  He looked upwards and slightly to the left of Doc Martin and saw his father, who, too had a similar look on his face, though the worry was a little more evident on him than it had been on Paul.  Joe looked about the room and could see the same expressions on his brothers and Fred Harding.  Everybody wanted to tell him that everything was going to be alright again.   He felt like he was almost suffocating.

Joe turned his face away from them all and tried to hold in the emotions he was feeling.   As the light from the room shone on his face, Ben and the others saw a single tear slip down his cheek and soak into the pillow.

“I think I need to examine my patient alone for a moment,” Paul now suggested seeing Joe’s distress.  “I’ll talk to you in a few minutes when I have had a chance to check him over properly.”

Everyone in the room complied with the simple request.   They were all anxious to hear what Paul had to say about Joe and how he was coping.  They all wanted to ask the one question that kept plaguing their minds: What had scared him so much back at the courthouse?

Paul now smiled back at Joe once everyone had left and tried to drum up idle conversation to take Joe’s mind on whatever else was bothering him.

“Now, let’s see wrong with you, Little Joe,” Paul said innocently.

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Joe said through clenched teeth as he held onto his frustration about everybody treating him like he was a five-year-old.  Why couldn’t people just come out and say things in plain terms?  Just because he fainted didn’t mean he was in the mood to be babied.

“Can you tell me why you fainted then, Joseph?” Paul now asked, playing along with Joe rather than trying to fight against him.

“I don’t know.  Just got uncomfortable answering all of those questions, I guess, that’s all, Doc,” Joe lied.   His mind went back to the alleyway and the moment Butch Thomas had grabbed him around the throat and hissed threats at him.  His body began to tremble again at the memory and he suddenly felt cold in the room.  He tried to hide his body’s tremors by pulling the quilt from the bed over him.

Paul frowned a little at this exercise, particularly when he was trying to examine a reluctant patient.  It didn’t help any if the patient was being particularly difficult and preventing the doctor from checking him over.  He could see the frightened look return to Joe’s eyes and feel the small tremors running through his limbs as he gently tried to talk Joe into co-operating a little more.  Paul decided not to pressure the young man too much.  It was obvious that his being difficult wasn’t entirely his own fault.

Paul finally declared to Joe that he was finished his examination.  Joe looked up dubiously at the doctor as he knew there hadn’t been much poking and probing done.  He didn’t say anything, though.  He wasn’t about to invite the doctor to conduct any more tests on him.  He just wanted to be left alone to sort out the shouting voices in his head.  He wanted to get a handle on what had happened today and work out what he was going to do tomorrow.

“I’ll probably see you tomorrow, Joe.  You get some rest now,” Paul said, as he walked out of Joe’s room through the adjoining door to Fred Harding’s suite where everybody else was waiting.

Joe nodded his head in acknowledgement, but knew that there was not chance of his mind letting him rest tonight or anytime in the near future.  His mind was just racing, as was his heart beat and blood pressure.  The fear within him was growing that much he was certain of.  If he couldn’t find a way to confront his fears, they would take over and make him hide away from the world and his family and friends forever.

Back in the other room, the four people waiting in Fred Harding’s suite now gathered around together, as Paul Martin came through the doorway and prepared to tell them about Joe’s diagnosis.

“How is he, Paul?” Ben asked before anything could be said.  He couldn’t wait any longer.  He wanted to know how his son was.

“Physically, he’s as good as can be expected.  He’s a little fatigued and his leg is still aching a little, but other than that and some lack of colour he is holding up physically well.  Mentally, on the other hand, that’s another issue altogether.  I couldn’t do much of an examination because Joe just refused to talk to me.  He grunted and gasped in pain a couple of times when I examined his leg which indicates he was still feeling some pain. But he refused to talk about what was scaring him so much or anything at all about what happened back at the courthouse,” Paul now explained.

“Did you ask him what happened, Doc?” Hoss now asked.

“Yes, Hoss, I did, but he said there was nothing wrong with him and that it was just the questions that got to him in the end.  Though I partly believe that to be true, I doubt that was the real reason behind his fainting spell.   He is in a very fragile state at the moment.  If we push too hard, he is going to withdraw into himself even more; if we treat him with kid-gloves any more than we are at the moment, we are only going to end up with a very rebellious and angry teenager.”

“What do you suppose we do about tomorrow and the trial?” Fred Harding now asked.  He wasn’t willing to risk Joe’s physical or mental condition for the sake of convicting Griffiths, but he also needed to be prepared to give the Judge some background information in the morning in his application to have the matter adjourned to another date.

“I think its too early to say just yet.  Let’s let Joe get some rest overnight, and I will take a look at him tomorrow morning and see what his mental attitude is again.  At the moment his attitude is very sullen and moody.  I doubt whether you will get a straight answer from him at the moment were you to put him back in that witness box with his current state of mind.”

“Are there any instructions for us tonight, Paul, about what we should do for him?” Ben asked.

“No, Ben.  The best advice I can give you at the moment is just to be there for him.  He is feeling all alone and very vulnerable at the moment so I think we need to show him that he is loved,”  Paul replied.  “You know where I will be if you need me,” he added at the end and gathered his bag ready to depart back to his own office.

The four men now had talked for the next hour about some of the things that had come out in the trial from Joe today.   Adam and Hoss both had angered looks about them when they remembered how Joe had been lured  into thinking that somebody was hurt along the road on his way to school.   Both brothers knew that it was in Joe’s nature to stop and help someone else if he could.  They couldn’t fault him because they probably would have done the same thing.

Ben had wanted to go back into their own suite where Joe was resting as soon as Paul had left.  But a great deal of self-restraint was used when he realised that his son probably would like some time to himself.  If he was resting as the doctor suggested he do, Ben didn’t want to disturb that much needed rest even if it was to put a stop to his own fears and worries.

“I can’t say how sorry I am about Joe being put through all of this, Ben,” Fred now said to his long-time friend as the conversation between them all but dried up.

“Don’t be, Fred. These things that are happening are not your fault and can’t be helped.  I just wish I knew some way to get through to Joseph.  His fear seems to be his main barrier at the moment.  If we could just find a way to persuade him to tell us who was responsible for this, I think it would help to put his mind at ease as well as ours.  I wish I knew what to say to help him gain that confidence.”

Ben now excused himself from the others so that he could go and check on his son.  He quietly and carefully opened the door, not knowing if Joe had fallen asleep or not.

Joe had heard the creak from the door, signalling that somebody was entering the room.  Up until now he had been awake, trying not to think about what Butch Thomas had said.  He now closed his eyes and evened out his breathing, feigning sleep.   Somehow he could tell it was Pa in the room.  He would never be able to explain to someone how he knew this;  only that he knew.

Ben walked around the bed and now sat on a chair beside his sleeping son.   At the moment his son’s face seemed relaxed and peaceful.  It was still slightly pale, as Paul had stated, with the dark circles of fatigue more visible than normally.  He gently caressed his son’s cheek, hoping somehow his son would feel the touch and know that his father was there for him.  If Ben could find a way to instil his own strength and confidence within Joe, he wouldn’t hesitate for a second.

“Oh, Joseph.  I wish I knew a way to help you son,” Ben said with heart-felt sounding words.

Joe heard his father’s words and part of him wanted to open his eyes and allow his father to take him into his embrace and give him the security he craved for.  The other part of him, some would say the selfish part, reminded Joe that he wanted to be on his own.  The selfish part won out in the long run, and Joe lay silently listening to his fathers words, but never acknowledging that he heard them.

“I wish I knew how to take all the pain and hurt away, son,” Ben said, as he gently stroked Joe’s arm that lay limply alongside of him on the bed.  “I wish I could have been there to stop those men taking you away from me.  I hope someday you will forgive me for not being there when you needed me.  I am so sorry, son.  So sorry.”

Ben’s words were interrupted by Adam gently knocking on the doorway between the two suites.  He got up and answered the rap, leaving his son to continue his slumber.

“Pa, sorry to disturb you, but Hoss and I thought it might be a good idea to order some room service from downstairs in case Joe wakes later and wants something to eat,” Adam said.  He couldn’t help but see Ben wipe a stray tear from his face on his sleeve as he answered the door.

“Alright, Adam, I think that is a good idea.  I don’t know when he will wake but he really should have something to eat when he does,” Ben replied.  “I think I will leave him for now to get some decent rest,” he added now as he glanced back over towards the figure on the bed.  Ben then joined Adam in Fred Harding’s suite and closed the door behind him.

Once he heard the door closed, Joe could no longer hold in the tide of emotion that washed over his tired body.  The tears fell freely down his face as he thought about the words his father had said.  After a while though he started to talk to himself harshly.

He thought about all of the events over the last month or so.  How he was taken and what had happened back at the abandoned shack.  How his family had been there to find him and bring him home and nurse him back to health.  Apart from the times that they were prevented being with him, they had been there.  Through thick and thin they had sat by his bedside and cared for his injuries.  They had offered for him to talk to them about what might be troubling him.   All the time they were holding out hands to help, he was slapping them away in refusal and turning his back on them.

The threats from Butch Thomas still echoed in his head, but now they started to mingle with the words his father had said and the words that Adam and Hoss had said over the last few weeks.  He was very confused about what was the right thing to do.   He was afraid for what would happen if he did tell somebody about what happened.

After an enormous amount of thought, he finally decided that there was one person that could help him the most at the moment.  That person was in the other room at the moment.  He would need to wait until later tonight to talk to Fred when the rest of his family thought him to be asleep.

There was a tiredness that was creeping over him now, and he didn’t try to fight it.  He knew that if he was going to carry out the task he intended tomorrow he was going to need to be fully rested to do so.  He now closed his eyes for real and let the pull of sleep claim him.

Adam had checked on Joe a few hours later, hoping that his brother would be awake to take in a much needed meal.  He was a little concerned when it seemed that Joe was sleeping a lot more than they all expected.  Ben had assured the boys that Joe was both physically and emotionally exhausted at the moment and that they were bound to take their toll on his young body.

Joe’s sleep wasn’t disturbed at all that evening. He could have a hearty breakfast in the morning to make up for it if he was feeling up to it.   After 10 pm Ben and his boys settled in their own room with Joe and allowed Fred to retire in his own suite and get some rest as well.

At about 1 am that night, Joe woke with a slight start.  He didn’t make any noise as he looked around the pitch-black room and tried to work out what time it was.  He knew it must be very late and rubbed at his eyes to try and bring himself more alert.

Joe then looked around the room to make sure that the rest of his family were still asleep.  Hoss was snoring loudly on the other side of the room.  Adam and Ben were in single beds not far from him.  Hopefully Hoss’s snoring would muffle his footsteps across the floor a little.

Joe gently eased back the covers on his own bed and very gingerly placed his bare feet onto the floor.  He saw that somebody had propped his crutches up against the walk beside his bed.  They were in reaching distance, and he placed them under his arms and used them to support his still injured leg from any more jarring as he made his way across the floor in the suite.

Thankfully, being a carpeted suite, the crutches were muffled even more by the thick pile of the patterned carpet.  He made his way as silently as possible over to the doorway between the two suites.  At one stage he thought he heard one of his family waking behind him and he stopped dead in his tracks until he was certain that the coast was clear.

The doorway between the two suites wasn’t locked, and Joe very quietly turned the handle on the door and opened it.  He cursed inwardly when the door creaked slightly at the movement.  He walked into Fred Harding’s suite and then closed the door silently behind him.   He didn’t want to risk knocking on the door and have somebody hear his efforts.

On the other side of the door he could see Fred Harding’s bed and the slumbering figure of the prosecutor on it.  He felt incredibly guilty about disturbing the man at this time of the night, but he thought it important enough to do so.

“Mr Harding,” Joe whispered as he gently shook the middle-aged man’s shoulder.  The first attempt to wake the lawyer didn’t work so he had to try a little harder and repeat the attempt.  “Mr Harding,” he said again and shook a little more vigorously this time.

“What, who?” Fred said, as he woke with a start.  He frowned at first to try and focus on the figure bent over him and the bed.  He couldn’t quite work out who it was.  He pushed himself up into a sitting position and put on his glasses that had been resting on the bedside table.

Joe turned the lamp in the room a little higher for Mr Harding to see.  “Hello, Mr Harding.  Its only me, Joe Cartwright.  I am sorry to disturb you at such a late hour,” he now said apologetically.

Fred could now distinguish the outline of the crutches Joe was leaning on and establish the intruder’s identity. “Joe, are you alright?  Has something happened to your father?” he began asking.  He knew that the boy had a terrible time yesterday, and as far as he knew, up until now he had been asleep.  The boy hadn’t even woken up for supper, so if he was standing over his bed in the middle of the night, something must be dreadfully important.

“No, everybody is fine, Mr Harding.  I just really needed to talk to you about what happened today in the courtroom and what is going to happen tomorrow,” Joe now said.

Fred now got out of bed and led Joe over to the small dining room table in the room.  “Come and sit down, Joe.  If you have something important to tell me, I would rather be more alert when you did so.”

“Thank you, Mr Harding,” Joe said, unable to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

“Are you sure you don’t want one of your family present when you talk to me, Joe?” Fred asked.

“No, Mr Harding.  What I am about to tell you is going to be hard enough, so I would rather that they didn’t hear what I have to say until I say it tomorrow.”

Fred was now a little more than curious and a little worried about that statement.

“You see, Mr Harding……………” Joe began.  His voice was quite restricted and his words were not flowing as smoothly as he would have liked.  Fred was patient enough though to allow his client all the time he needed to say whatever was troubling him.

Joe now proceeded to tell Mr Harding about why he was reluctant to tell anybody about what had happened to him.   He was very careful not to give too many details away.  He never gave Fred specifics about what had happened, just a rough outline.  He told Fred about the threats and the fears that Joe had held since being brought home by his family.  Again he made sure that he left out names and places, never wanting to relinquish the names of his assailants.

At the end of the very difficult but revealing conversation, Fred sat silent in thought for a moment as he pondered how best to tackle the problem.

“I want to tell the truth, Mr Harding. I really do.  But I am afraid about what hearing such things might do to my family and what fate might befall them or me if I should reveal their identity.”

“Joe, here’s what I propose to do,” Fred now suggested.  He and Joe spoke for the next two hours, carefully working out a plan of attack for the courtroom the next day.  Fred told Joe about the approach he would take from the outset and that Joe would have to bear with him at first when the questions began in the morning.

He told Joe that he would need to be particularly strong when reliving his story.  He didn’t have any misgivings about how hard it was going to be to tell these things in an open court, especially when his family had never heard any of the hard details about what Joe had been through.

“I can only tell this story once, Mr Harding, so we have to get it right the first time.  I can’t promise how I am going to be tomorrow.  I can’t hide the fact that I am almost too scared to go through with this.  But after what I heard my Pa say earlier this afternoon, I owe to my family to tell the truth and make sure they know that there wasn’t anything else they could have done to prevent those men from doing what they did.”

“I think you had better get back to your room before you are missed, young man,” Fred now said in lighter conversation.  He helped Joe to his feet and secured the crutches under his arms enough for him to manage to the doorway on his own.  He watched from behind as Joe made he way across the room.

“And, Joe…….,” he said, waiting for Joe to turn around before he continued the comment,  “when this is all over tomorrow and your father finds out, please make sure that there is a fast horse waiting at the stable for my escape.  If there is one thing I would rather avoid, it’s that infamous temper of Ben Cartwright when it comes to protecting one of his own.  You have nothing to worry about, and he can’t possibly be mad at you.  But me, that’s a whole different story.”

“On second thought, Mr Harding, I think I will make sure that there is one for you and me.  I don’t think I want to be there to hear what Pa says about our little midnight rendezvous, either,” Joe said with a genuine smile.

Joe now crept back into his room and climbed back into bed without making any noise to alert his family.  He wasn’t able to tell if they had awoken while he was out of the room, but if they hadn’t come looking for him, it was safe enough to assume that they didn’t know he had been in the other room.

There were only a few more hours to daylight.  Joe was tired and didn’t find it difficult to fall back to sleep, but his mind was still plagued by what was going to transpire tomorrow.  He just hoped he and Mr Harding were doing the right thing.  His very life may depend on it.

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

The next morning Ben looked over the brim of his coffee cup at the slumbering figure of his youngest son on the other side of the room.  He frowned a little at the thought that he would need to wake the boy shortly to gauge whether or not the trial would proceed today.

Ben didn’t need to wait too long, though, as Joe started to stir a little in the bed as the chambermaid came to take away the breakfast dishes.  One tray and coffee pot were left for the still slumbering teenager.

At first Joe seemed to have trouble waking up.  It was as though his eyes were too heavy and it was too much of an effort.  The sound of knocking at the door by Fred Harding soon brought the boy around a little more.  He pulled himself up into a sitting position and rubbed tiredly at his eyes before looking about the room and the faces that were watching him from the other side of the room.

“Did you sleep alright, son?” Ben asked trying not to be too invasive first up and allowing the boy to become more alert before deciding what the agenda for the day would be.

“Yeah, sort of,” Joe said in a drone voice.  The voice sounded thick as though he hadn’t gotten enough sleep though and his blood-shot eyes portrayed a similar picture to the others in the room.  They knew that it must be the stress of yesterday getting to Joe.  As far as they all knew, he had slept through the night without so much as stirring until just now.

Ben walked a little closer towards the bed.  He gently squeezed Little Joe’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“I feel as though I haven’t slept very much at all,” Joe said, being evasive about the previous night’s rendezvous, but being honest enough about how he felt physically because of it.

“I am sure you will feel much better after you have something to eat, Joseph.  You didn’t eat anything last night for supper,” Ben now said to his son.

Joe now found a tray of breakfast thrust in front of him.  He looked at it and then at the worried faces in the room.  He knew he would have to eat something to ease their minds a little about his physical well-being.  Inside his stomach was already growing into knots about what was going to happen today.   Fifteen minutes later he had managed to eat a small amount of scrambled eggs and toast to satisfy his family.  He pushed the tray aside and sipped slowly at the lukewarm cup of coffee.

Halfway through his cup of coffee, there was a knock at the door of the suite.  Adam opened the door and greeted Doc Martin as he entered the room, medical bag in hand.

“Good morning, Adam, Ben and everyone,” he said in a cheery voice.  His eyes though could help but focus on the figure he could see sitting up in bed.

“I thought I would check you over today, Joe, before you and your family make a decision about the trial,” Paul said, as he explained his presence.

“Doc, I have already made up my mind to go back into the courtroom today,” Joe said in a casual voice. The reaction he got from his family and the doctor was anything but casual.  Fred Harding had just been entering the Cartwrights’ suite when he heard Joe say the sentence.  He had to hide his on his face when he saw Ben’s face.

“Your what?” Ben said, not meaning to put so much power into his voice.  He was now staring at his youngest son with a very puzzled look on his face.  He was looking the boy over with his eyes, trying to scrutinize whether the boy was feeling alright or still undergoing stress from the day before.  Adam and Hoss together with the doctor had equally curious looks on their faces.  Doc Martin thought he would really need to work on Joe’s confidence this morning to get the boy to even talk about what had happened yesterday.

Joe put his coffee cup down and looked at his family for a half a minute before answering his father’s question.  When he was sure that he had everyone’s attention he told them what he thought.

“I can’t say that I am not scared, because you know I am.  I can’t say that I am going to handle today any better than I did yesterday.  Everything is so jumbled up in my head that it aches sometimes just trying to work it out for myself.  But after all the hard work Mr Harding has put into this case, I can’t just turn my back on it, no matter how sick in the stomach I feel when I am in that courtroom.

“Are you sure you’re alright, son?” Ben asked.  It was a little hard not to be sceptical about how his son would cope for a second day under such pressuring conditions.

“Mr Harding, if you ask the questions, I promise to answer them as best I can,” Joe said now, turning towards the prosecutor to reassure his family.

“That’s just fine, Joe.  I am sure you will do just fine,” Fred replied simply, so as not to alert the others in the room to  the conversation that he and Joe had had in the early hours of the morning.

“Paul, I still would like your opinion on this and how Joe is.   No matter what Joe says, if you say he’s not well enough, then I won’t allow him to be put through the whole ordeal again today,” Ben now said in all seriousness.

Paul nodded his head in acknowledgement and now set his bag down on the bedside table and pulled out his equipment to carry out the examination.  Joe sighed inwardly, but allowed the intrusion to take place to the time being.  As much as he hated the doctor’s well-meant check up, he knew that his father would be adamant enough to stop him from telling his story today if he even suspected he was unwell.

After about ten minutes of total silence in the room, Paul stood up, ready to give his verdict on whether or not things would proceed as Fred and Joe hoped they would.

“Well, I must say you still look a might tired ,Little Joe, especially after your Pa says you slept from when I left yesterday until just a little while ago.  But I suppose, given the unusual circumstances, that can’t be helped a lot.  Other than that and the ache I still know is in your leg,”

Joe looked at him before he could finish the sentence, wondering how the doctor had known about the pain he was still experiencing, but trying hard to hide as best he could from his family.

“Yes, Joseph, I can still hear those small gasps of pain that escape under your breath when I touched your bandages just a few minutes ago.    I want you to promise me that you will take things a lot slower and easier today if you can.  Other than that, I think you will be fine.  I am going to stay in the courtroom like yesterday, though, just to make sure there are no problems,” Paul now added.

Ben’s worry didn’t dissipate altogether after the doctor’s visit, but it was eased some by Joe’s confession of feeling alright and the doctor’s confirmation of that except for the injured leg and remnants of tiredness from the day before. Adam and Hoss also made a mental note to keep a closer eye on their younger sibling today in case he needed them.

By 9.00 am they were all back seated in the courtroom.  Sheriff Roy Coffee had brought the prisoner, Danny Griffiths, back in handcuffs and he was once again sitting in the dock awaiting the trial to begin.

Fred was just finishing shuffling through his papers when the Bailiff announced the Judge’s entrance into the courtroom.  He looked over towards Joe in the witness box and gave him a sly wink to reassure his young client that everything would work out alright.  Ben saw the wan smile in return from Joe, but wasn’t exactly sure what secret messages were going on between them.

“All rise.  Judge Collins presiding,” the Court Bailiff said, as the Judge walked into the room.

Judge Collins put all of his books and paperwork down on his desk first and then turned his attention to Little Joe sitting in the witness box.  He wanted to get his own opinion before the lawyers were given their chance to speak.

“How are you today, son?”

“A little better, Your Honour.  Not much, but a little” Joe said in reply trying to keep his voice calm and even.

“Are we ready to proceed this morning, gentlemen?” the Judge asked, turning towards Mr Simpson and Fred Harding.  Simpson and his client Danny Griffiths seemed to be the only ones in the room uninterested in Joe Cartwrights well being.

Simpson had been surprised to even see the kid show up.  He threw a brief glance towards the witness box and then shrugged his shoulders.  He somehow suspected the kid would crack under the pressure today as he had done yesterday.  If the prosecution wanted to drag this out a little more for the young man to endure, he was willing to comply.

“Ready, Your Honour.”

“Ready to proceed this morning, Your Honour.  As you can see our witness has put on a brave front and presented himself here again this morning,” Fred Harding said, as he addressed the Judge.

“Alright, Mr Harding, but if we need to break at any stage today, Mr Cartwright only need to whisper in my ear again, understood?  I will permit any of his family to approach him if necessary as well as Doctor Martin.”

All involved nodded their heads in agreement, the Cartwrights thankful that they had a Judge with a little compassion for such a young, impressionable and vulnerable witnesses.

“Joe, I want to begin by asking you about your testimony yesterday.  Can you tell me if what you said yesterday was truthful?”

“Some of it was and some of it wasn’t exactly the truth,” Joe answered, trying to avoid his father’s gaze for the disappointment he expected to find on Ben’s face.

Ben was a little surprised at Joe’s admittance of not telling the truth.  He knew he still needed to remained supportive, no matter what Joe said he had done.

“So you lied,” Fred put it bluntly.  “How much of what you said was true and how much was false?”

“I told the truth about finding the man lying on the road.  I didn’t exactly tell the truth about seeing Mr Griffiths before,” Joe now said.  His heart was thumping as he gave the first real indication to the courtroom about knowing the defendant sitting on the other side of the room.

“Alright, let’s start again at the beginning shall we.  You promise to tell the absolute truth this time, Joe?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Let’s start of with something a little more recent to test your adherence to the truth.  Where were you last night?”

Ben and his boys raised his eyebrows at Fred more than a little at this question.  Ben narrowed them in suspicion and waited for his son to answer.  As far as he, Adam and Hoss knew, Joseph had been asleep for the entire night.  Or had he?

“I was in the hotel room.”

“Did you remain in your room the entire night, Joe?”

“No, I woke with a start about 1 am.  It was still dark inside the room.  My Pa and brothers were still asleep.”

“Did you go back to sleep?”

“Not until about 4.30 this morning,” Joe admitted.

Ben ran a hand down his face and now realised why his son looked so tired this morning.  All he needed now was the truth about where the boy was between 1 am and 4.30 am.

“Where were you during those early morning hours?”

“I went into your room, Mr Harding.”

Ben could scarcely believe his ears at Joe’s confession.  Fred had known all along that Joe had been awake last night, but chose not to say anything to the family.  Not even this morning when he entered the room when Paul was there.  It was now obvious that Fred had something to do with Joe’s change of heart about taking the witness stand today.

“Joe, thank you for being honest.  Now, I want to go right back to the beginning of this story and start again from the morning you left to go to school but didn’t quite make it.  You said yesterday that you didn’t know Mr Griffiths when he was pretending to be hurt on the road?”

“No, not at that stage.  When I came across him on my way to school, that was the first time I had ever seen him. I saw him a lot afterwards when they took me away.”

“Your Honour, before we go any further.  Some of the details that are going to follow may become a little more graphic.  The witness and I have agreed that instead of using people’s names in this story, we are going to call the main offender Mr X.  Hopefully this will help Mr Cartwrights fear of telling the court the truth about what happened without him thinking about this man the whole time.  Once we reach the conclusion, it is our intention then to reveal the real identity of Mr X.  At this stage not even I am privy to that information.  I assure you that Mr Cartwright is the only one in this courtroom who knows the identity of Mr X.”

“Very well, Mr Harding.  I must say this is a little unorthodox.  But given the youth of the witness and what happened yesterday, I am willing to let you have a little more freedom with your examination.”

“Joe, after the man has stopped pretending to be hurt and has pulled the gun on you, what happened next?”

“Danny Griffiths then whistled, signalling for the other men to come out from the bushes that were nearby.”

“Did you see these other men?”

“Not at first.  While he was waiting for them to come out, I tried to turn around and run.  I thought that if I could just make it to my horse I might be able to get away.”

“Continue.”

“Well, like I said I tried to run, but I didn’t get very far.  I fell over and hurt my knee on a rock.  I was just starting to get up again and try to make a second run when I felt a pair of hands grab me from behind and start dragging me into the bushes.”

“Did you make it clear to these men that you didn’t want to go with them?”

“Yes, I started to scream for somebody to help me, but then somebody put their hand over my mouth very hard.  I could scarcely breath.”

Ben’s heart was aching with every word as Joe relived the story of his abduction.  Ben cursed himself for not being there to protect his young son from such monsters.   Adam and Hoss were having an equally bad time at hearing such details from their younger brother.  Both of them wanted to know who this mystery Mr X was and break his neck.

“What happened next, Joe?”

“Well, they kept dragging me further into the trees.  I could see Mr Griffiths taking Cochise’s reins and leading her into the trees as well.  I tried to get away.  I was kicking and trying to get free, but there were two of them, and they were just too strong for me.   Once we got into the trees where we couldn’t be seen from the roadway, I was pushed up against a large tree and held there.”

“Did you say anything then, Joe?”

“No, because the hand was still over my mouth then.   Mr X took the hand away and started to tie my hands together with a piece of rope.   I tried to scream for help again when he didn’t have his hand over my mouth, but all he did was slap me very hard across the face.  It stung.”

Hoss found himself wringing his hands together to work out the frustration he was feeling at hearing his brother’s heartfelt story.  He wanted so bad to slap these men back for his brother.  How dare they strike a young teenager without cause?  The mere thought made his blood boil.

“You’re doing just fine, Joe,” Fred now reassured his witness as he saw the strain beginning to show on Joe’s face.  The kid was still holding up well, but the eyes held all the expression of fear and anxiety.

“What happened after they tied your hands together?”

“The other man asked what they were going to do with me now.   Mr X told him that they were going to take me to a place until my Pa did what they said.”

“Mr X said that it was time for me to go to sleep then,” Joe said, as he felt a shiver go up his spine as he recalled the rag being placed over his face.  “He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.  It had a strange smell to it.  I didn’t like the smell and tried to turn my face away before he could place it over my mouth and nose, but he grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced my face towards the strange-smelling cloth.”

“Do you remember anything after that about how you might have gotten to the place where you were being held at, Joe?”

“No, I tried to fight against the smell, but after a few minutes I must have passed out because I don’t remember anything else until after I woke up in the shack.”

Adam’s face was like a mask of stone as he listened to his brother’s story of pain and anguish.  He wanted to take all the hurt and memories away for Joe.  He couldn’t have imagined how frightened Joe must have been of this Mr X as he was told he was being taken away from his family by force.

“You’re doing very well, Joseph.  I know this is extremely difficult and I admire your courage and I really need you to keep being so brave for just a little while longer,” Fred now said sympathetically to the young man.   Truth be known, he knew that there was a very long way to go, but maybe the thought of it all ending would help Joe a little.

“What’s the next thing you remember, Joseph, after you were taken by these three men?”

“The next thing I remember is hurting all over.  My mind was still very fuzzy from that stuff they used so I had to stop and think for a few minutes about where I was.  The ground was awfully hard.  Somehow my ankles were now tied up as well as my hands.  I don’t remember them doing that back at the tree so they must have tied them after I passed out.”

“Could  you describe the surroundings you found yourself in a little better, please, Joseph?”

“I can’t tell you what the room looked like if that’s what you’re asking,” Joe now said, his voice becoming distinctly soft in volume.

“Why is that, Joe?”

“Because the men had tied a blindfold over my eyes so I couldn’t see where I was,” Joe said and turned his attention to his feet to hide his anxiety.

Ben gave his son a reassuring smile as the boy lifted his head slightly.  He knew that the boy was going through a terrible time at the moment reliving something he would rather not.  Ben couldn’t help but feel a stab to his heart though every time Joe uttered a piece to the puzzle he was yet to hear.

“What did you do when you realised that you were blindfolded and couldn’t see?”

“For a while I just lay there scared.  Not knowing where I was, where my family was.  Not knowing if any of them even knew that I was missing yet.  I couldn’t tell how long had passed between being on the roadway and waking up in the shack.  It seemed like a long time, but it could have only been a few hours.”

“Go on, Joe.”

“Well, after a while I tried to get the blindfold off so I could see where I was.”

“How did you achieve this when your hands and feet were tied together?”

“I used the hard ground and rubbed the side of my face backwards and forwards, trying to get the blindfold to move upwards or downwards on my face.”

“That must have hurt some, Joe.”

“Not much.  I felt a little sting, but I couldn’t see or feel any blood on my face.”

Ben sighed inwardly to himself and looked towards Adam with recognition in his eyes.  Both of them had seen the scratches on the side of Joe’s face when they had first taken him to his room.  When they had first found Joe there were too many other more serious injuries to worry about.  With the strong glow of the lantern in his bedroom, both men remembered seeing the abrasions on Joe’s pale skin and wondering how they had come about.

“Once you were able to remove the blindfold, were you able to see better your forced surroundings?”

“Not really, it was pretty dark inside the room and it was a very small space towards the back of the shack.  There was no window in the room, just a door that led into the other room from the front door.”

“Were there any objects like furniture in the room that you could make out, Joseph?”

“If there was, I didn’t see it.  I didn’t get much of a chance to look around the room anyway once the blindfold was off.”

“And why was that, Joe?”

“Because that’s when Mr X came to the door,” Joe said and swallowed heavily as he remembered the voice speaking to him as he lay on the hard cold ground in the darkened room.

“What did Mr X say to you?”

“He said there were a few things he wanted to explain to me.”

“About?”

“About what was going to happen to me while I was there, I suppose.  He really didn’t explain things very much at all.”

“What happened next?”

“He took me out of the smaller room into the larger one.”

“How did you do this?  Did they untie your legs?  Did they carry you?”

“No, they didn’t untie my legs.  Mr X grabbed one of my arms and started to drag me across the floor before I even had the chance to get up.”

Hoss Cartwrights eyes were like two pieces of blue crystal at the moment.  Both of them cold and hard as he heard his brother’s soft voice almost breaking at the ordeal that he was forced to endure.  For a brief moment, the flame of revenge could be seen to flicker in the very centre of those blue eyes.

“What happened once you were taken into the larger room of the shack, Joe?”

“Mr X threw me harshly into a chair that was there.  I closed my eyes because of the light from the lanterns.  My eyes were sore after being in the dark for so long.  I had to open them slowly and allow them adjust to the room so they didn’t hurt so much.”

“Did you say anything to your kidnappers at this time, Joe?”

“No, once I let my eyes adjust to the light in the room, I started to look around for some way to escape.”

“What was the next thing that Mr X did whilst you were seated in that chair, Joe?”

“Hit me hard across the face when he saw that I was looking around the room for a way out.  He came right up to my face and said I would regret it if I tried to get away and he caught up with me.  He told me a whole lot of other things, too.  Threats about what would happen if I didn’t listen to everything they said to me and told me to do.  Told me about not speaking unless I was told I could.”

“Did you answer any of the threats against you from Mr X?”

“I told him that I understood and that’s when he hit me hard again for talking out of line,” Joe said grimly and without even thinking of it, his hand went to the spot of the slap across the face, and he rubbed at the area in memory.

Ben’s blood was almost at boiling point inside. He could scarcely sit still in the chair long enough to take in what had happened to his son.  He swore that Mr X would pay for every single cry of pain he caused his son.  He would see justice served one way or the other.

Adam was like Hoss and sat in stony silence as his brother recalled the events.  It was very difficult for all of them to hear what Joe was saying happened to them.  None of them had any idea of the torment and pain the youngest Cartwright had gone through.  Joe had certainly kept some very dark secrets to himself about what had happened.

How many more dark secrets did the boy hold onto?

“Was Mr X responsible for making most of the threats at this stage, Joe?”

“Yes. The other two just stood behind him, watching it all and then laughing.  I remember Mr X hitting me in the stomach.  I fell out of the chair onto the floor because of the pain.  I could scarcely breathe.  Mr X grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and held me upright.  If he hadn’t been holding onto my shirt, I would still be on the floor. My legs just wouldn’t hold me up anymore.”

“What did you do then, Joe?”

“He held me there for a few seconds and laughed at my pain.  The other two men started laughing at me harder as well.  That’s when I started to get mad inside.   I was angry at being hit for no reason.  Angry that they thought I was something just to punch and leave in the dirt.”

Ben and Adam had to smirk a little at Joe’s temper.  If there was one thing certain in this world it was Joe Cartwrights temper, even if he was in the worst situation possible like this, sometimes there was just no holding him back. All of them had been on the receiving end of Joe’s hot tongue on numerous occasions when he thought he was being victimised.  His brothers had even been on the receiving end of a few mistimed punches of Joe’s own when he really got wound up about something he thought was unfair.  They had to be thankful to a certain degree because it was that same volatile temper that had seen him through some very narrow scrapes in the past.

“What did you do when he made you angry, Joe?” Fred asked.

“Do I have to say it out loud?” Joe asked, a little embarrassed and a little guilty about what his Pa and brothers would think about where he had kicked Butch Thomas.

“Don’t worry, son, nobody in this room is going to think any less of you.  You have nothing to fear here about what you might have done to try and safe your life.  You can it out loud without fear of retribution from anybody in this room.”

“I kicked him in the crotch,” Joe said in a barely audible whisper with his head almost down in his lap.  Almost nobody in the room heard his answer.

“Sorry, son, you will have to speak up so everybody hears you.”

“I kicked him between his legs,” Joe said in a louder voice and then immediately diverted his gaze from his family, not wanting to see any disapproving looks that may be present.

What Joe heard was the exact opposite.  There was a few whispers amongst the back rows in the courtroom.  Adam turned around and gave a stern look to those responsible causing those responsible to fall into silence once again. Hoss on the other hand thought it was the most daring thing he had ever heard Joe do.  He also thought it was the most danged funniest thing he had heard.  He was happy that his little brother had been able to extract a little pain and suffering from his captors.

Hoss laughed loudly enough for everyone to hear.  Even the Judge himself had to hide a chuckle at the boy’s brash actions.  Hoss settled himself down and gave his brother the biggest grin he could muster.  He definitely needed to pat his little brother on the back when they returned home.

Ben wasn’t disapproving of Joe’s actions.  He just never thought his son was capable of doing something like that. He too was glad that there had been a little streak of rebelliousness in his son at a time when he needed it most.

The laughter soon stopped suddenly, though, when everybody waited to hear Joe’s painful recollection of what happened as a result of that aimed kick.

“Were you able to escape as a result of your kick to Mr X, Joe?”

“Almost.  My feet were still tied together so I had to hop to the front door.  I managed to get a hand on the doorknob, but those other two fellows then grabbed me and pulled me back away from the door.  They kicked me in the ribs a couple of times and then threw me back into the chair in front of Mr X.”

“What did Mr X do next, Joe?” Fred asked, regretting to hear what he already suspected had happened.

“He pulled me upright again by the front of my shirt this time and held me out in front of him about arm’s length away. Then he just let loose with fists of fury.  The first punch to my stomach was so hard I thought I was going to be physically sick.  I was going to try and say something to him to make him stop, but before I could even look up, he hit me again.  Over and over again, he hit me.  I don’t know how many times he hit me but after a while I don’t  remember any more.  I think I must have been knocked out from the punches.”

By the time Joe finished this portion of testimony he was physically shaking.  Doc Martin walked over to him and knelt in front of him, clearly concerned for the boy’s well-being.

Ben also went to his son, but he quickly wiped away the tears that he couldn’t stop after what Joe had just told them.   He could scarcely find words to speak to his son about how he felt about such vicious and cruel treatment being taken out on him.

Doc Martin handed Joe a glass of cool water, which was accepted gratefully.  “Are you alright, Little Joe?”

Joe continued to sip from the glass for a few more seconds.  When he handed it back to the doctor, his face was still pale and his eyes showed some signs of fatigue setting in.

“I can’t stop now, Pa, or I will never get this finished,” Joe said, as he answered Paul’s question to his father.

“What do you say, Paul?  Is it advisable for him to continue?” Ben now asked his friend.  Even though he knew the court needed to continue, he wasn’t prepared to risk his son’s health and have him collapse in front of everybody like he done yesterday, no matter how strong the protests about him being allowed to continue.

“You’re starting to look a little tired, there Joe,” Paul said, voicing out loud his observations of the boy’s condition.   “Are you sure you don’t want a small break, even just for a few minutes?”

“If I stop now, these thoughts going around and around in my head are going to make my go crazy, Doc,” Joe answered honestly.  “I need to get them out and then I can rest.  I don’t think I would be able to rest very well at the moment, anyway.  My head is so full of flashbacks and memories that it is difficult to tell my nightmares from reality at the moment.  Please, I need to continue and finish this.”

Joe’s emerald green eyes held the pleading look that convinced Paul that he needed to do exactly that.

“Alright, but you say when you have had enough,” Paul said making sure that Joe took note of his advice.

“Your Honour, the witness is getting fatigued very quickly, but has requested that he be allowed to continue.  I will allow him to continue at this stage, but I will be checking on him regularly throughout the rest of the morning.  If I feel he is risking his health again, like yesterday, I will request a break on medical grounds,” Paul said, as he addressed the Judge.

The Judge acknowledged the doctor’s sound advice with a nod of his head and a glance at the young witness beside him.  He had much admiration for a young man, so determined to put things right but so full of painful memories that nobody should have to go through.

“What’s the next thing you remember after being punched over and over by Mr X, Joe?” Fred asked in a very compassionate voice.  He had never had a witness before who had been so victimised or hurt.  He doubted he would have one ever again that had gone through as much as Joe Cartwright.

“The next thing I remember is waking up with pain.  Lots of it.  It was really hard at first to tell where it was coming from.  The punches that Mr X threw seemed to land everywhere on me.  When I started to come to, I was lying on the floor.  That’s where I must have landed when I passed out.”

“Can you describe what sort of pain you were feeling, Joseph, and where you think it might have been coming from?”

“It was different from when I woke up in the other room.  When I woke up in there, it was just mainly stiffness from my hands and ankles being tied up for so long and the awkward position I was lying in.  When I woke up the second time, the pain was more distinct and very sharp in some places like my ribs and chest.  I couldn’t even move a inch on the floor to try and sit up to see where I was hurting without feeling some sort of pain.”

“Please continue, Joe, about what happened after you came to on the floor.”

Joe swallowed hard and looked towards his family.  No matter how hard the story had been to tell so far, the next part was going to be somewhat harder still because these where the incidents that had truly driven the fear into Joe.  What happened next was why he had been waking up screaming from his nightmares once he was returned home.  These were some of the biggest secrets he had ever dared to keep from his family, and he wasn’t sure how they would react once they heard the entire details.

Ben saw the look on Joe’s face and knew that his son was battling again to keep it all together.  He saw his son’s reluctance to reveal the details he had kept to himself for so long.   He continued to show his son compassion,  understanding and love through his dark brown eyes.  If it was security and a sense of safety Joseph needed to feel right now, he need look no further than his family, sitting only a short distance from him.  They would led him through the darkness and pain into the light and comfort.

After all they had heard so far, nobody, including Judge Collins, was willing to rush the young man.  They sat in complete silence and waited until he was ready to start telling the story again.

“The next thing that I remember was Mr X lifting me up by the front of my shirt again and throwing me back into the chair.  I thought he was going to start the punishment all over again.    I tried to push myself away from his reach, but he came up close to my face again and told me that I would regret doing what I had done.  He said that he would make me learn the lessons the hard way.”

“What did Mr X mean by this statement, Joe?”

He told Danny Griffiths over there to start making a noose out of some rope.  Danny went to his saddlebags and pulled out some thick rope and started to knot it together.”

All eyes suddenly diverted to the prisoner sitting in the dock as it became clearer that he had a much larger part to play in this sickening act than first thought.  Griffiths could feel the cold eyes of steel from almost every man and woman in the courtroom, and was at least grateful for the fact of the slight barricade of the dock being between him and them at the moment.  It wasn’t much protection from an angry mob, but it was all he had.

“Do you mean to tell this court, Joe, that Mr X instructed the defendant in the box over there to start making a loop out of rope?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Did Mr X give any indication what the loop of rope was to be used for?” Fred asked, knowing it sounded like a stupid question before he even asked it.

“Um, he said a lot of things, really.  Some I remember, some I don’t.  Some of it didn’t really sink in at the time. I was too afraid and too trying to deal with the pain I was feeling,” Joe replied.  Although he was prepared to give honest answers in the courtroom today,  the words that Butch Thomas had spoken to him that day about him being is worst fear and always being in his dreams was something that he was not prepared to ever repeat again.  The words had been echoing in his head since he had returned home and they still haunted him today.

Fred saw the reluctance in Joe to fully give the words spoken, but didn’t think they were critical to the whole case as this stage.

Ben also saw Joe’s hesitation and wondered whether they would ever know what this monster of evil had said to his son that was so encrusted into the boy’s mind.  Whatever he had said had poisoned Joe’s mind and soul with fear.

“He said he was going to knock some of the fight out of me,” Joe now answered truthfully.

“How did he intend to do that, Joseph?”

“He grabbed me by the front of my shirt again and pulled me to my feet again.  I thought he was going to start hitting me again. But he didn’t.    He just started lifting me higher into the air until I couldn’t feel my feet touching the floor anymore.   He lifted me higher and higher, and then forced me to stand on the seat of the chair.”

The tears were spilling down Joe’s cheeks now as he relived those terrifying moments, but he kept his voice as steady as possible and continued the story.

“I tried to pull away from his grip a few more times but he hit me a couple of times again.   He then let one of the hands holding on to me loose.  Danny had thrown the long rope with the noose at the end over one of the beams close to the ceiling of the room.  The noose was just above my head when Mr X let go with one hand.”

Ben found it very difficult to sit and listen to the words his son spoke at the moment.  It was not difficult to work out why someone would tie a noose in a rope for someone.  What made it harder to take was that this Mr X seemed to enjoy dragging the torment on for his son.   Dragging out his punishment and pain until the boy was broken both physically and mentally.

Adam had contemplated on taking a walk outside on a number of occasions so he didn’t have to listen to the too painful recollection of events from his brother.  A walk into the fresh air might clear his head and prevent him from hearing anymore than he could stand but he told himself that he needed to be there not only showing support to his brother when he needed it most but also because his father and younger brother were finding this as hard to listen to as he was.   They had to stand together as a family.

“Mr X was trying to put the noose of the rope over my head.  I kept shaking my head around a little and moving it from side to side to make it harder for him, but eventually he got tired of fighting against me and yanked my head still by grabbing a fistful of my hair.   Once the rope was around my neck, he tightened it until I could almost not breathe.  He made sure that the knot was directly behind my neck.”

“Did you say anything to try and stop him from trying to hurt you any further?” Fred asked.  He wanted to try and avoid using the words ‘hang’ or ‘hanging’ as much as possible for the sake of the witness and the family.

“Yes,” Joe replied and chewed his lip a little.  “I tried to tell him that he couldn’t do it.  I was begging him, pleading for my life, because I thought he was really going to kill me right then and there.  But no matter how much I pleaded, he told me that he could and there would be no witnesses to see it.”

“Mr X let go of my shirt then, and Danny tied the other end of the rope off to the side of the room.  He pulled it so tight that I had to stand on tippee toes to reach the chair.  I kept trying to move my head and loosen the rope, but it didn’t work.  The roped only dug deeper into my neck and starting irritating the skin around my neck.”

“How many men were in the room now, Joe, when this was all happening?”

“Three.  Mr X, Danny Griffiths and somebody else.  I knew his name, but I forget it just now.  I’ll remember it later.  They all stood on the other side of the room closest to the front door.”

“Mr X then told the other two that they needed some shooting practice and that they could start practicing on the legs of the chair that I was standing on.”

Joe reached for the glass of water that had been left beside him and drank long and gratefully, trying to hide his emotions that were threatening to get the better of him again.  As he drank, he looked over the rim of the glass and got to see the distressed look on the faces of his father and brothers as well as the fearful looks on some of the other people sitting behind them.  His father looked very pale and a little tired himself to Joe.

“Did they start shooting at the chair, Joe?” Fred asked, hoping that by some miracle that something else had intervened and stopped this act of sheer violence.

“Mr X told them he would take the first shot just to show them what to do,” Joe answered and placed the almost empty glass back on the ledge of the witness box beside him.

“Which leg did Mr X aim at, Joe?”

“I don’t know, I couldn’t see from where I was standing.  But I heard the gunshot and then felt the front of the chair start to tip forward, so it must have been one of the front legs that he hit with the bullet.  I had to move my feet towards the back of the chair to stop it from falling over and the rope from pulling any tighter around my neck.   It took a couple of attempts to get the chair from rocking back and forth.”

Fred looked at Joe as if to ask the next question of what happened next.  He didn’t need to, though, and Joe took this as his cue to keep the story flowing as much as possible.  He was beginning to look a little more tired and haggard in his facial features.  Fred could see Doctor Paul Martin still keeping a close eye on him from nearby.

“Mr X told them to make it quick for me and for both of them to shoot at the other legs together.”

“What was the next thing you heard to saw, Joe?”

“I heard three shots.  Two together, at first, which must have been from Griffiths and the other fellow, but I swore, as I felt the chair fall out from under me and the rope start to get tighter, that I head a third shot.  I don’t know who fired it.  It must have been one of the men in the room, there was no one else who could have done it but I didn’t see anything else.  The only thing I could recall at this time was the sensation of falling as the rope got tighter and tighter.  I couldn’t breathe and think I must have passed out again before I hit the floor.”

“What were your thoughts as you felt yourself falling from the chair, Joe?”

“That I was dying,” Joe said honestly.  “That this was so unfair and I was going to die right there and then without my family even knowing where I was or that I was dead.”

Ben and Hoss had to wipe away fresh tears from their eyes at the conclusion of Joe’s statement.  It was now becoming clearer by the minute to all of them why Joe had kept all of these thoughts and feelings to himself over these weeks.  How he had done it without torturing himself further, they didn’t know.

They all knew that although they were hearing every detail of what had happened to Joe today for the very first time, none of them would ever experience exactly how Joe felt at any given time during his captivity.  Joe could describe the pain he was feeling and they could see the physical injuries and scars that were to be left behind,  but nobody would ever be able to fully appreciate what terrible monsters these men had been to do this to Joe.

Fred could scarcely put the words together as he knew he had to ask his young and already tormented witness to keep describing the ordeal that he went through.

“Can you tell us what happened next, Joe?”

“Well, the next time I can too I was a little confused.  I didn’t know whether I was alive or dead.  I didn’t know how much time had passed between then and when I had fallen off the chair.  Then the pain in my ankles and wrists started to get very bad again so I knew that somehow I was still alive.”

“Could you  tell what time of day it was when you woke up again?”

“No, everything was really hazy then.  I could barely lift my head off the floor without it pounding from the headache that I had.  I never looked out the window to see if the sun was up or not.”

“Was all that happened in the shack, Joe?” Fred asked, hoping that that was it, but knowing deep inside that there had been more.

“No.  I guess they must have heard me when I woke up.  I must have been moaning from the pain.  I heard Mr X come into the room again.  I tried to pretend that I was still asleep, but he didn’t believe it for a minute.  He picked me up and pulled me in front of him again.  He told me it was time to play the next game.”

“Did you try and plead with him again to stop hurting you, Joe?”

“Not really.  I was feeling pretty miserable by this time.  When he was telling me that there was more pain and hurt in store for me I just told him to get it over with and kill me.”

Ben felt the blood drain from his face as his son uttered these words.  Paul had seen the paleness of his old friend’s face and could scarcely believe that somebody would be evil enough to cause enough hurt and pain for the boy to feel like there was no reason at all left to live.  Ben assured Paul that he was alright, but he found his stomach tied in knots with the worry he was experiencing.

“What was this other sick game that Mr X devised, Joe?” Fred asked, knowing he was stepping over the boundaries a little when he made the comment, but not really caring about protocol at this point in time.

“They dragged me over to another chair in the room.  I didn’t have enough strength to fight them.  I hadn’t had any food or water the whole time, and my legs wouldn’t hold me up anymore.   Mr X then pulled out his gun and emptied the shells out onto the floor.  My mind counted them as they fell one by one to the floor.  I thought he was just going to shoot me and it would be all over.”

“How many bullets were emptied onto the floor, Joe?”

“Six.  Four that were still good and two that had been fired.  And that’s when I realised that he did have something else in mind because there weren’t any bullets left in the barrel to shoot me then.”

“What did Mr X do next?”

“He picked up one of the good bullets and cleaned the dust off with his shirt.  Then he loaded it into one of the chambers in the gun.  He closed the barrel and then begun spinning it around and around.”

Adam looked at his brother.  It didn’t take a genius to work out what the game was that this monster wanted to play with Joe.  Russian roulette was a very old and deadly game.  It had been played many times in saloons and bars all over the world.   He just never thought that his brother’s life would be the ultimate price for such a gamble.

Fred asked the question that everybody in the room already knew the answer to, “Do you know what Mr X intended to do with the bullet and the gun, Joe?”

“He intended to play Russian roulette.” Joe said without any emotion in his voice.

“Did he tell you how he intended to play out these nasty deeds?”

“Yes, he said that he would spin the barrel first and then shoot and if the chamber was empty and I was still alive, I would get to spin the barrel next.  We were to keep taking turns until my luck ran out, I guess.”

“What was his next step?”

“He put the barrel of his gun against my temple and pressed hard,” Joe said.  He was looking at the floor as he spoke, trying to avoid his family’s reaction.  He didn’t see Paul Martin and Ben look at each other and realise, for the first time since they saw it, what had made the perfectly round bruise on Joe’s temple when his injuries were first being assessed.

Up until now Paul had no idea what had made such a mark on the boy.  He had even testified to the fact yesterday that he drew a blank at the instrument that might have been used.  He had never thought, in all his professional years as a doctor that he could start feel hatred for someone he had never even met.

“Joe, everybody here knows what a terrible time you were put through.  To save you from some stress and unwanted memories, I think it is safe to say that when the gun was fired, the chamber was empty.”

“Yes.  The first time and the second time,” Joe replied, making sure that they all knew that the scene had been played out more than once.

“You mean Mr X spun the barrel a second time and pulled the trigger again?” Fred said a little dismayed at the man’s obvious efforts to totally break the boy’s mental and physical spirit.

“No,” Joe said sharply as he lifted his head and saying the word with definition on his face.

Fred had a confused look on his face that said he wanted Joe to explain his answer.

“What I mean is that yes, the gun was fired a second time, but Mr X didn’t do it the second time.  He made me spin it the second time and forced me to pull the trigger myself when the barrel was against my head.  My hands were still tied together and shaking so much that I could barely get the barrel to spin properly.”

“Oh, Joe,” Fred said in a very sorrowful voice.  He really didn’t know what else to say.

“I guess somebody must have been watching over me,” Joe said with a little false laughter at the end.  He knew that everybody felt sorry for him about what happened, but his fierce sense of independence wanted them all to forget what had happened just like he had to try and do.

Ben had a fairly good idea who Joe thought was watching over him that day and he turned his face towards the ceiling and sent a silent prayer to the Lord above and to his wife Marie.

Joe asked for another glass of water.  Hoss was only happy to oblige his younger brother.  At least this way he thought he was doing something useful.  He had promised his father and Marie that he would always be there for Joe when he needed him.   After hearing his brother’s horrific story of self-reliance and survival, he had never felt that he had let his brother down so strongly before.

“Did anything else happen after that, Joe?”

“I don’t really remember anything else.  I had my eyes closed, too scared to open then and see the bullet that was about to kill me.   The next thing I felt was a hit to the back of my head with something hard.  I don’t know what he used, but it hurt and all I saw was blackness.”

“Is that the last time you saw, Mr X?”

“Yes and no” Joe answered simply.  But not the last time I heard him or saw him in my dreams, he thought silently to himself.

“I am afraid you will have to expand on that double answer, Joe.”

“Yes, it is the last time I seen him at the shack.  Its not the last time I have seen him since I was brought home.”

Fred made a mental note to explore that answer in detail a little later on.

“Can you tell us how you managed to escape from the shack, Joe?”

“I came to back in the smaller room in the shack.  My head hurt so bad I could barely sit up.   It took a long time for me to be able to focus enough to look around.  The room was very dark and it was hard even to make out any basic shapes.  My feet and hands were still tied together.  They were starting to go numb from the blood not circulating through them.”

“For a long time I just tried to loosen the rope around my hands and feet.  The ropes were very tight, and I didn’t think I was going to do it.   After a long time I felt the ropes on my ankles stretch a little, not much but a little.  I took off my shoes.   When my shoes were off it was fairly easy to pull my feet through the rope.  Then I started on my hands.   They also took a lot of time to stretch the rope.  My hands stung from the skin being almost rubbed away in some places.”

“My eyes must have adjusted to the darkness in the room some, and I could see a cup of water sitting on the floor a little way from me.  When I got to it I drank a little of it and then poured the rest of it over my hands to try and stop the pain and stinging from the rope.  I poured a little on my ankles, but they were not as raw because I had long trousers on.  The rope hadn’t rubbed against the skin so much around my ankles.”

“I started to look around the room for some way to get out.  I couldn’t have gone through the front door because they would have caught me again.   I tried to find another way out.  I kept stopping, though, because I thought I heard them coming towards the door.”

“I moved to the furthest corner in the room where I thought the sound would be heard the least.  I started to feel around the boards of the walls for ones that might be a little loose and I could get my hands underneath.   When I felt the ground underneath the boards, it was very wet and muddy from the rain outside.  I could feel the bottom of the boards were wet, too.   I put my feet against them and grabbed a hold of one of them and started to pull from the bottom.  I was lucky and the first one broke fairly easily.”

“How many of them did you have to break to make a hole big enough to escape?”

“Four.   I still hadn’t had anything to eat so I was a bit skinny.   When I had crawled through the hole and got to the other side, the front of my shirt was covered in mud.”

“What time of the day was it outside now, Joe, are you able to tell us?”

“I didn’t stay still very long to look at the sky, Mr Harding, but I think it was a few hours before sunrise.  There was a little light just above the horizon.   After I started running, I didn’t look at the sky very much at all.   I just wanted to get away from there before they found out I was missing.”

“Did you have any idea about the direction you were headed in when you started to run?”

“No.  I just wanted to get away.   I think I headed towards the light.”

“Did the landmarks start to become familiar to you as you escaped, Joe?”

“No, after a while I couldn’t run anymore because the pain in my chest and side were just too bad.  I had a headache that was really bad, too.   All of the trees looked the same to me.   I had to stop quite a lot to catch my breath. My lungs were burning so that I thought I must have something wrong with my ribs, maybe from all of the kicks and punches.”

“Did you start to recognize things a little easier once the sun rose higher?”

“Yes and no.  I still didn’t recognize where I was.   I came across some muddy water and took a small drink from it. I thought I might get sick if I drank too much.”

“What happened next?”

“After a while walking I came across a stream.   Only a small one, not very wide.  Only a few steps to the other side. I put my foot into the water and couldn’t believe how cold it was.  I almost stopped myself from going any further, but there wasn’t anywhere else that was any shallower to cross.  I didn’t know if I had the time to search for a narrower crossing further up or downstream.   I thought Mr X and the others must have found me missing by now.”

“After that I don’t remember anything else until I woke up with Pa beside me back in my room,” Joe said.

“You don’t remember anything about stepping on the rusty trap in the stream and being found unconscious by your family some time later?”

“No.  Nothing.  The only thing I felt when I woke up next was being cold,” Joe admitted.

Ben nodded his head at this statement as he remembered how cold his son’s body had been when they found it in the stream and how his son had asked for blankets to warm him when he woke up.

Joe had started to force himself to relax a little over the last half an hour or so.   Although the memories in his head were still very vivid, he couldn’t believe how much relief he actually got from telling things out in the open.   It was as if the weight he had been feeling on his shoulders was beginning to lift ever so slowly.

That false sense of security was short-lived as the sound of footsteps could be heard entering the courtroom.   Joe looked up and saw two men enter the room.   His eyes only focused on one of them.  He could feel his chest and throat begin to constrict with the fear that he felt.  He felt as though he could scarcely breathe.  This couldn’t be happening, he told himself, but the scene before him told him that his silent nightmare was about to come reality.

Joe had diverted his face and head from the two men as they walked across the room and sat only a few rows behind the defence lawyer.  It was Henry Williams, shouldered by Butch Thomas.    Thomas smirked silently as he saw the face of his young victim as he entered.  It had been just the reaction he was looking for.

Butch Thomas and Henry Williams had not heard the majority of what Joe had said.   Butch Thomas told himself that he could watch the trial without fear of being identified.  The kid wasn’t going to talk if he knew what was best for him.   He carefully noted the position of various people in the room.   He looked over and looked casually at Danny Griffiths in the prisoner dock, careful not to allow any sign of recognition to cross his face and give their acquaintance away.

Thomas also made a mental note of where the Sheriff was standing in the room as well as the kid’s family.  He was lucky enough to recognize the black-haired brother he had seen before he took the kid.  He assumed the large man sitting beside him and the silver-haired man in the same row must have been the boy’s family.   He recognized the doctor he had spoken to after the boy had been found and returned home.  He didn’t pay any attention to Fred Harding, the prosecutor.

Thomas’s glance caught a glimpse of the only firearm he could see in the room, on the Sheriff.  He had concealed a small pistol inside the coat of his jacket.  Nobody would even know it was there. Williams had been suspicious about the whole thing of going to the courtroom and gloating secretly in front of everyone.   Thomas had been a little more persuading, though, and told Williams that everything would work out as long as he acted like a concerned citizen like the other people in the courtroom.

Paul Martin and Ben Cartwright had noticed an immediate change in Joe.   They had seen two unknown men walk into the room and take a seat at the back of the courtroom, but they had no reason to suspect that they were the cause for Joe’s sudden pallor and loss of composure.

They both approached Joe again with concern clearly on their faces.  They knew that something was very wrong with Joe at the moment.   The boy was trembling slightly again and the paleness of his skin alarmed them the most.

“Joe, are you alright?” Paul asked, reaching out a gentle hand and trying to reassure the boy that everything was alright.  They had all heard the harrowing version of events given by the boy only a short time ago.   Although he seemed to be as strong as everybody had expected throughout the whole story, maybe now the emotions of what had happened where truly beginning to catch up with him as he listened to his own words and remembered the pain that he had endured.

Joe fought against his fear, telling himself that he had to finish this, no matter how hard it was.  His eyes kept trying to pull his attention to Butch Thomas sitting in the room.   His mind was screaming at him that the man was there to hurt him again.  To possibly take him away from his family again.

It took all Joe’s willpower to keep his eyes focused on the floor in front of him.  He had barely taken any notice of the questions asked of him by Doc Martin or his father.  He looked up and found them awaiting an answer to a question he hadn’t heard.

“Sorry, Pa, I didn’t hear what you said,” Joe said in a small voice.

Ben was patient enough to repeat the question for his son, “The doctor asked if you were alright, Joseph?”

“I need to finish this, Pa,” Joe replied with a pleading look in his eyes.  “I have told almost all there is to know.  I can’t tell all of that and then just turn away when I am almost at the end.   I just can’t, Pa.”

Ben knew this statement to be completely true.  His son had shown more courage and bravery than he had seen in most men twice his son’s age by geting up on this witness stand today and telling the story they had all just heard.  He couldn’t expect his son to recover just because he had shared his experiences.   Part of the healing process involved the completion and closure from the court.  If Joe didn’t get that closure, his pain and mental anguish might never go away.

Ben now looked at the doctor beside him and saw the same thoughts on his face.  He, too held the same belief that the boy needed closure to the matter in his own peace of mind.  Paul was still worried, though, about Joe’s physical well-being.

In addition to Joe having looked dreadfully tired over the last hour or so, he couldn’t help but take note of Joe’s slight winces of pain that were evidence on his face as the young man bent down to try and rub at the bandages around his injured ankle.  The doctor was pretty sure that the ankle had been causing him trouble throughout the whole day, but had only become to their attention because of Joe’s distraction because of the throbbing.

“Joe, I am getting really worried about you sitting here for so long.  You need to rest.  You need to have your injuries looked at.”

“I can’t rest until this is finished, Doc,” Joe said bluntly.

Doc Martin nodded his head in acknowledgement.  Joe was probably more right than he knew.  If they did break for him to rest, the boy probably wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway.  He had been plagued by nightmares and dreams since he had been found in the stream by his family.

“Half an hour, Joe and that’s it,” Doc Martin said coming up with a compromise that he thought was suitable to all.  He know turned and got Fred Harding’s attention and then proceeded to address the Judge as a doctor.

“Your Honour, although it is against my better judgment, I am going to allow this questioning to continue.  But only for a further 30 minutes.  Joe is dangerously close to causing more unnecessary damage to his injuries from lack of rest.  He is very tired, and I cannot allow this to go on for much longer as a doctor and a friend to him.  I am aware of Joe’s pleas to be allowed to go on and respect them, but only for a while longer.”

“Very well then, Doctor, in thirty minutes we will adjourn until tomorrow morning at your request,” the Judge replied.  “Are you sure you don’t want to break now, Joe?” he asked, as he turned to the boy and asked him directly what his wishes were.

“I can go on,” Joe said with determination in his voice.  It was a little hard to believe him, though, as the signs of fatigue and pain began to show on his young and handsome face.

“Mr Harding, you have a further half an hour to ask the rest of your questions for today.”

Fred nodded in agreement and was secretly relieved that this would soon come to an end for Joe.  He hoped he could get all of the questions out within this time, and Joe wouldn’t need to come back and go through any more tomorrow.

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

Ben and Doc Martin reluctantly took their respective places back behind Fred Harding.  Both of them never took their eyes of Joe.   The young man’s posture gave away further his pain and feeling of fatigue.  His shoulders were slumped and hunched forward.  His head hung low as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up straight.

Little did either of them know that Joe’s head hung low for another reason entirely.  At the moment he was battling as hard as he could not to look in Butch Thomas’s direction.   The battle was getting harder and harder.

As hard as he tried, though, there was something about Thomas’s dark brooding eyes that drew his attention towards the man.  Joe turned his head and looked into those eyes.  He almost felt like Thomas was able to look into his soul.   He could feel any of the confidence and self-esteem that he had gained from his family’s presence and support being drained away by Thomas’s stare.

Butch Thomas kept his composure throughout.  He gave secret and sly smirks at the young man as he found that the young man unable to divert his eyes.  He knew that Joe feared him.  It was very evident on his face what he was feeling.   He was determined not to give his identity away and he was just as determined not to allow the boy to tell the court anything about what had happened back at the shack.   He was unaware that Joe had already spoken about his experiences.

Thomas looked about, making sure that nobody was taking particular notice of him or the fact that he held the young man’s attention.  He placed his right hand over his heart, making the shape of a pistol with his thumb and index finger to alert Joe to the fact that he had a concealed gun under his jacket.

The gesture wasn’t missed by Joe.  He could scarcely draw his eyes away from the fingers and the fact that they made the shape of a gun.  Joe had taken particular note that Thomas had dressed himself formally for the court in order to fool the rest of Virginia City about his true intentions of being there today.  Thomas would not have been allowed to enter the courtroom with a gun belt strapped to his waist.

Joe didn’t think for one moment though that Thomas had come unarmed, either.  He had shown back at the shack and over the last two weeks that he was prepared to take almost any measure to stop Joe from telling anybody who was responsible for taking him from his family.

Joe fully realised what the gun gesture meant.   Thomas would be able to shoot anybody in this room if he so chose, even somebody from his family.

Joe felt the sweat start to bead on his forehead.  His heart was slamming against the wall of his chest, as he thought about the hidden gun.  The man’s menace knew no boundaries.

Emotionally and mentally, Joe was at the end of his tether.  He wanted so much for his family and the other people in the courtroom to know that the man who had done these torturous deeds to him was sitting right now amongst them.  Joe was afraid, though, of what Thomas might do even in front of all these witnesses.   He knew that he couldn’t do this on his own anymore.

Little Joe told himself that somehow he had to tell one of his family of Thomas’s presence without saying the words or without giving undue attention to Thomas.  He looked back and forth between his family and Doc Martin, trying to size up who would note the subtle signals and understand their meaning.  This family member would need to keep that information to himself as well until Joe decided that it was the right moment to identify his kidnapper.

Joe now raised his head and looked intently at his older brother Adam.  He was sure that if Hoss knew about Thomas’s presence, he would be out to get retribution as soon as he knew.   His father would want to alert Roy Coffee to the man’s presence and in doing so he might put many people in the courtroom at risk of harm including his family.   He couldn’t afford to risk that.

Joe told himself that he needed someone level-headed and cool in a crisis situation.  Adam was the name that first came into his head.  Adam would be alarmed and possibly even concerned, but he wouldn’t fly off the handle like Hoss would be likely to do, and he would try and help Joe discreetly rather than alerting everyone to the situation.

Adam didn’t miss the long stare that he was receiving from his young sibling.  He knew as their eyes locked that it wasn’t merely a look that asked for his support and understanding.  Joe was trying to tell him something.  Joe’s eyes had always been the most expressive part about him.  Joe had never been very good at hiding anything or keeping his feelings from his feelings from his family too long.  As soon as he tried, his eyes told them all they wanted to know.

Looking at Joe’s emerald green eyes now, Adam could see fear like no other.  Over the past few weeks he had known Joe to show this level of fear when he was talking about or remembering only one person.  As Adam looked at Joe with his own warm brown eyes, he realized Joe was trying to give him something about the person he feared, and then he suddenly understood that Mr. X must be nearby, even in this room.

Joe had held up particularly well over the last six hours or so whilst he gave his terrifying version of events back at the abandoned shack.   Joe had only just started to lose his composure to fear within the last twenty minutes or so.

Joe almost cried out loud in relief when he recognized the message in his brother’s return gaze.  He knew that Adam now understood that his tormentor was in the room somewhere.  He couldn’t give away the man’s exact position without fear of putting himself, his family or everyone else at risk of Thomas’s fury.  He trusted that Adam would somehow alert his family about what was going on.

Adam adjusted his head slightly, barely noticeably to anybody else sitting nearby and whispered into his father’s ear what information he had learned from Joe.

Ben almost gasped out loud with the words he was hearing from Adam.  It took all of Ben’s willpower not to start scanning the people immediately behind him to see if he could recognize a stranger sitting amongst them.   He could scarcely believe that the man who had done such terrible things to his son was still brazen enough to turn up at the courtroom and terrify his son some more.

Over the next few minutes Adam was able to discreetly alert his brother Hoss, Doc Martin and Fred Harding, with the help of his father, to the fact that Joe’s kidnapper was in the room somewhere.   Adam had taken a particular point of holding firmly onto Hoss’s arm out of sight as he told him.   Hoss’s brow quickly turned into a frown as he fought against the urge inside him to pull this animal out of his hiding place and make a public example out of him for Little Joe.

All of them knew the precarious situation that they were all in, especially Little Joe.  They all knew that he was expecting them all to keep his secret just that until the moment was a little better.  None of them were aware of the firearm that Thomas had concealed in his jacket.

Fred Harding took it upon himself to make sure that he could word his questions in such a manner as to draw the man out in the open and incriminate himself in the process.  Hopefully this would prevent the messy business of Joe having to point a finger at the man and thereby putting himself in danger from the man who still threatened him.

“Joe,” Fred began with a cough to hide his nervousness.  “A little over a week ago, your father tells me, you fainted in your bedroom.  Can you tell the courtroom a little more about what made you faint that day.  Was it because of the injuries you had received from your abductors?”

“No,” Joe said, as he saw Thomas shift around in his chair.   He knew that Thomas was becoming aware that he had told all to the court.

“No?  Can you add a little more, please, Joe?”

“I fainted because of something that was placed in my bedroom by Mr X”.

“You mean that Mr X returned to your bedroom after you where brought home by your family?”

“Yes, he came back twice,” Joe said, keeping an uneasy eye on Thomas as he saw the man move again in his chair.  He could feel the man’s eyes burning into his skin as they got darker and darker with anger.  He started to tremble slightly at the thought of what the man was going to do.

Butch Thomas couldn’t do anything to avoid alerting anybody to his true identity.  Beside him, Henry Williams had looked at him anxiously a couple of times as Joe and the prosecutor spoke about this Mr X.   Thomas had to laugh a little at the boy’s tactics of dreaming up an imaginary name for him.

The boy was ingenious, if nothing else.   If the boy wanted to play games, he was willing to play along for a time  He thought that he had made it abundantly clear that the boy was never to tell anybody about who he was or what had happened back at the shack.  Once the game was ended, he would make sure that the boy paid dearly for his indiscretion.

“He came back when he put me in the closet, but he came back before that,” Joe said, his voice almost a whisper again.

“How do you know it was Mr X that came back the first time, Joe?  It could have been somebody else that came into your house without you or your family knowing.”

“No, it had to be him because nobody else could have left the object that he left on my bedside table.  He knew how scared I would be when I saw it.  That’s why he left it there in the first place.”

“What was this special item that he placed there, Joe?  What did he leave that he knew would make you remember what had happened to you?”

“He left one of the bullets from his gun,” Joe replied and then looked back towards the ground again to try and hide the redness that was rising on his face.

Ben and his family still couldn’t believe the words that they were hearing from his son.  Joe had known all along that this Mr X had been in the house before the closet incident.  How was this boy able to keep such horrible secrets from the ones that loved him for so long?  They couldn’t help but feel hatred towards this man who had terrified Joe so much that he thought he needed to hide things from his family and not tell them when he was being threatened.

Fred looked at his watch and knew he had to keep going.  There wasn’t much of those thirty minutes left and any minute now Doc Martin was going to put an end to today’s proceedings.

“Yesterday, Joe, when you were in the courtroom, are you able to tell us what made you faint then?   Were you in too much pain from your injuries or was the questioning getting to be too much of a burden?”

“Neither.  I admit that my leg was hurting some before I asked for a break and went outside.  As for the questions, well, I was trying to avoid answering them as much as possible as I said this morning.”

“Well then what is your explanation?”

“Well, you see, when I got outside and started to head towards the outhouse, I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders from behind.  I was going to call out for somebody in here to help me, but the man put a hand over my mouth before I could scream and then dragged me into the alleyway so nobody would be able to see or hear what was going on.”

Joe could feel the redness starting to rise from the base of his neck again and travel upwards towards his head.  He could feel the beginning of a headache starting to surface.

There were many whispers and shocks amongst the people in the courtroom about what had happened to Joe when he went outside the courtroom.  None of them ever imagined that the boy had been assaulted again.

Fred asked the question that everybody seemed to already know the answer to, “Can you tell us who this man was that grabbed you and tried to silence your calls for help?”

“At first I didn’t know who it was.  I was just scared and trying to get free.  Once he had dragged me far enough into the alleyway he turned me around to face me so I could see who he was.    It was Mr X”

A hush now fell over the crowded courtroom as Joe uttered who the assailant was.   The Judge was appalled and it clearly showed on his face.  He made a promise to himself, as a overseer of justice, and to the young man sitting beside him who had suffered and endured so much pain and torment.  Whoever this Mr X was, he would face the full wrath of the law when his identity became known.

Doc Martin had a look on his face that said he now knew why Little Joe had faltered in his step when he came back into the room.  They had all been able to see the terror and fear in the young man’s eyes.  He had been trembling from fear and it all became too much for his mind and body to handle.  His body had already been under enough stress over the last few weeks and was only part way healed.

Fred knew he really only had time for one or two more questions.  He was going to make damn sure that they counted for Little Joe.

“Joe, we have been referring all day to this man as Mr X.  The time has now come for you to tell us his true name. Do you know what his name is, Joe?”

“Yes,” Joe said in a barely audible whisper.  His gaze once again wandered to a few rows behind where his family were sitting.  He could see Thomas’s face, his eyes now dark as coal from the anger that was present.  Joe was under no false impressions.  He knew that if Thomas managed to get a hand on him now, he may very well kill him with his bare hands.

Joe’s mind once again travelled over all of the torture and pain he had been forced to endure during those days of captivity.   He remembered the anguished looks on the faces of his father and brothers every time he woke them with a nightmare when he had been brought home.  How often they had sat by his beside and lovingly nursed him back to health?  They had hoped that he would open up to them and tell them about what had happened to him.

It seemed that the last month or so was all a very bad theatrical performance by Joe.  His life had been one big puppet show with his strings being pulled by Thomas.  Thomas was the director, and Joe found himself doing just what he was told because of the fear that he felt towards this man and the threats that had been made to him over and over.

Joe told himself that it was time to break free of those restraints, no matter what the cost, and come out and tell the court who this man was.  He wanted to make sure that his man was put away so he could never do any harm to anybody else like he had done to him.

With all the courage he could possibly muster, and that wasn’t very much at the moment, he looked directly and purposefully at Butch Thomas to utter his next words.  He wanted to see the man’s face when he revealed his identity.  He wanted Thomas to know what it was like to be afraid.  Afraid of what was going to happen to him, prison or maybe even death by hanging.  He deserved no less.

“The man who did all of this to me is….Butch Thomas,” Joe said, the effort to get those two words out almost too much.   He would never have believed that it would be so hard to say somebody’s name.

Before anybody else had time to react to Joe’s words, though, Thomas jumped up out of his seat with a roar of pure hatred and primal rage.  “You little whelp.   I warned you what would happen if you told anybody about me,” Thomas spat.”

Thomas now reached into his jacket and pulled out the small concealed pistol and aimed it directly at Joe.  Everything in the room seemed to happen in slow motion now.

Joe saw Thomas fire the gun.  He had tried to manoeuvre his body out of the way but was restricted to a slower pace due to his injured leg.  He was still trying to escape from the witness box when he felt a red hot searing pain in his side.  The pain that erupted in his chest took his breath away and all he could get out was a half-strangled cry as he felt himself topple sideways towards the floor.   He put his hand to his side where the pain felt the worst.  When he pulled his hand away, it was stained bright red with his blood.

Thomas fired the pistol at Joe just a fraction of a second before Hoss barrelled into the man with his full weight.   Hoss landed on top of the man and started punching him without mercy.  Now that he knew the identity of Joe’s kidnapper, he was about to extract some of his own for his little brother.

Hoss’s fists stopped, though, as he heard an anguished cry from his father.  He had almost forgotten about the gun being fired and now turned around to see what the stray bullet had struck.   He could scarcely hold back the tears from his eyes as he saw his father and older brother now kneeling beside the crumpled form of his little brother.

“JOSEPH!” Ben had cried as he saw a man behind him raise a small pistol and aim it directly at his young and vulnerable son.  He saw the boy gasp in pain and knew that the bullet had struck him somewhere.  He took a brief second to glance around and see Hoss grab hold of the man who had fired the gun while seated behind them and start punching into him.  He didn’t even give the man a second thought for the time being.

Ben and Doc Martin had reached the stricken youth at about the same time.  The courtroom was in chaos as people heard a gunshot and tried to flee out of the nearest exits.

“Quickly, get some cloths or rags to try and stop this bleeding!” Doc Martin shouted to anybody that was nearby.   He was quickly handed some towels from somewhere, he didn’t stop to take the time to thank the person.

Doc Martin now used pressure together with the towel to try and slow the flow of blood pouring from Joe’s side that was torn open by the bullet.  The boy was still conscious, and this gave the doctor a little hope that the pain and the wound itself maybe weren’t as bad as they looked.

Joe grimaced in pain as the world around him began to become fuzzy and disorientated.  He didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to stay awake so he needed to say things now while there was still time.

He couldn’t tell if the wound was fatal or not.  By the worried looks of the faces above and around him, he judged that it must be bad.

“Everything is going to be fine, son.  You just hold on now.   Doc Martin and I will take good care of you.  You just lay back and rest,” Ben now said soothingly to his son.  He was trying to keep the boy’s mind from drifting off and trying to distract him from the pain that was evident on his pale face.

Ben and the others turned around briefly as they heard a heated argument behind them.

“Are you crazy?  What did you go and do that for?   You just couldn’t leave things alone, could you?  You thought you could play it out to the end all on your own.  Now you have gone and hung yourself because of your own greed and own self-glory.”   Everyone was shocked to hear these words coming from Henry Williams as he accused his partner in crime.  He had not been happy about going to the courtroom at all, but now, with the kid being shot in front of everyone, Williams knew that everything was going to come out in the open.

Roy Coffee now walked over towards Williams and gripped him by the upper arm “Now what would you know about all that has been going on here, Mr Williams?” he asked, already hearing Williams own confession of involvement.

Williams hung his head in shame as he knew that he was up to his neck in trouble for his association with Thomas.   At first he had gone along with the whole idea of kidnapping Joe for the lumber contract and ransom.  Then, as Thomas’s deeds had become much more than that Williams found his association a forced one, but nobody in this room was going to believe that.  He hadn’t wanted to see the boy hurt, but things had gone a little beyond that stage now with the boy now lying in a pool of his own blood.

“Adam, could you help me get this other scumbag over to the jailhouse?” Roy now asked.  He knew that Adam was concerned with the plight of his younger brother.   Looking over at the man Joe had identified as Butch Thomas, Roy knew that the man wouldn’t be coming to in a hurry.

The man’s face was now a colourful shade of black and purple as a result of alternating left and right hand blows from Hoss.  Roy almost felt like taking a swing at the man himself, even if he was out cold.   By not doing so, he showed more compassion than Thomas had afforded Little Joe Cartwright all that time he was in captivity.

“Its alright, Adam, the blood has slowed a little.  I will get your father and Hoss here to help move Joe across to my office to see what further damage has been caused.  You can meet us over there after you finish helping Roy,” Doc Martin now said, as he saw the hesitation on Adam’s face.  The older Cartwright was being pulled between his love and concern for his seriously injured brother and the need to help Sheriff Coffee.

“Did you get him, Pa?” Joe now asked with his eyes closed.  He needed to know what had happened to Thomas.

“Your brother did, Joe.  Hoss really gave him a working over.  I don’t think he is going to be a threat to anyone anymore,” Ben said, as he answered his son’s question.  He could see that Joe needed that reassurance before he could start to try and relax or rest.

“Thanks, Hoss,” Joe mumbled.

“You’re welcome, short shanks,” Hoss said, trying not to sound too upset as he neared his brother.

“Pa,” Joe now said, as he forced his eyes open to just a crack.  He had a few more words to say to his father before he could let himself fall into the perpetual darkness that was tugging at the edges of his mind.

“Joe, you need to keep your strength.  You can say whatever you want once you are patched up.  Right now I want you to take it easy and let us take care of you for a while.”

“I need to tell you something first, Pa,” Joe said, his voice getting softer and softer as he spoke.

Ben found himself leaning over closer to his son just to hear what the boy was saying. “What is it that you wanted to tell me?”

“I’m sorry,” Joe said simply, the tears welling up in his eyes as he looked to his father for forgiveness.

“Sorry for what, Joe?” Ben replied as he fought against his own emotions and brushed the stray tears away from his son’s cheek.

“About all the things that I said back at the hotel the other afternoon.   I am sorry, Pa.  I didn’t mean what I said.  I was just scared about Thomas.  I was trying to push you, Adam and Hoss away when all you wanted to do was protect me.”

“None of that matters anymore, son, it was all forgotten about.  I know you didn’t mean the things you said.  I know how scared you have been, or I have tried to understand.  Until today, I don’t really think I did understand how scared you were.”

“And you know the part that hurts the most about all of this, Pa?” Joe said.  His words were beginning to become slurred and incoherent.  He was fighting against the pull of unconsciousness and knew that he didn’t have enough strength to hold out much longer.

“What’s that, Joe?” Ben said, as he softly caressed his son’s unruly curls.  He could see that Paul was handling the medical side of things so he just concerned himself with talking to his son and trying to keep him calm and relaxed as the doctor worked.

“This is what I get for telling the truth,” Joe said bitterly.  With the burden of Thomas now off his chest and the guilt about the harsh words he had shouted at his father now over with, he could no longer fight the fatigue and pain that were battering him all over.  He just wanted to curl up and forget about everything for a while.

“I love you, Pa……,” Joe said in a thick voice as the room above him began to spin.

Joe’s eyes now started flickering closed and seemed to roll back into his head as the boy’s body became very limp.   His head lolled to one side and a soft puff of air escaped his lips in a sigh.

“Paul!” Ben yelled out in alarm.  He didn’t know if his son lived or not.  His heart was in his throat.  He couldn’t lose Joe now.  They had come so far now and it seemed unfair that his son’s young life should be cut short now when he had already been through so much.   Ben found himself scarcely able to breathe as he gazed down as his youngest son.

“He is still alive, Ben,” Paul assured his friend as he put two fingers to Joe’s neck and felt the pulse beating steadily within.  “The pulse is a little weak and racy, but it is there.  His body has just had enough.   He was already weak to begin with, and now there’s this added bullet wound.   Let’s get him over to my office now,” he said, as he gave Ben’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Ben, can you hold that towel against the wound and press it as hard as you can while Hoss and I carry him?  Hoss you take his feet, I will lift his shoulders.  Be careful of that leg, too, Hoss, I don’t want to cause more injury to it.”

Three men now very carefully and very slowly lifted Joe’s prone floor from the floor and started towards the front doorway of the courtroom.  Paul supported Joe’s shoulders and upper body as agreed whilst Hoss took the younger man’s legs and lower body.

It was an agonising trip across the street to the Doc Martin’s office. The distance was only short, but with every step, no matter how careful they were, Joe would emit a loan moan in the back of his throat from the pain he was feeling as they moved.

Once they got to Paul’s office, Hoss was asked to wait outside while the doctor and his Pa worked on Joe.   Hoss spent an hour pacing up and down the floor of the doctor’s waiting room before Adam walked in.

“How is he?” Adam asked before he even closed the door.

“I don’t know dadburnit,’ Adam.  They have been in there for ages.  I have not heard anything from Paul or the Doc about how Little Joe is.  Its just about driving me crazy, waiting.”

“I am sure they are doing the best they can, Hoss,” Adam said, as he gave his younger brother a comforting slap on the back.

“How did you go, anyway?” Hoss now asked, as he remembered that Adam had been given the inevitable task of taking Butch Thomas back to the jailhouse.   Henry Williams had gone along with the Sheriff with very little protest.

“Alright, I guess.  He was still out when I dumped him in the cell.  But Lord knows he is probably doing a lot better right now than Joe is,” Adam said, as he felt the anger start to burn within him again.   It had taken all of his strength and willpower not to extract some vengeance of his own for Joe when he saw Thomas lying in the cell.

The conversation between Hoss and Adam was interrupted by Paul as he opened the door to the surgery and walked out with Ben not too far behind him.    Hoss paled a little as he saw the front of the doctor’s surgical gown covered in blood.  He couldn’t help but know that the blood staining the doctor’s garment was flowing in his little brother not so long ago.

“He’s a tough one, that’s for sure,” Paul said, trying to relieve the tension in the room before giving his diagnosis of Joe’s condition.  “Your brother is going to be fine, after a lot of rest and recovery.   The bullet nicked his side, but thankfully there was not a lot of blood loss, as you saw.  Joe is very weak.  He will be barely able to lift his head off the pillow for the next two days until his body replenishes the blood that he lost.  His leg didn’t suffer any further damage and is looking very pleasing at the moment.  If he didn’t have this other problem from the shooting I’d say he might be able to stand on his leg again within about three weeks.”

Adam and Hoss couldn’t help but slap each other on the back in relief.   They looked towards their father and saw only relief on Ben’s tired face as well.

“When will we be able to take him home, Doc?” Hoss asked a little prematurely, but it was hard for him to hide his excitement to the news that he just heard that Joe was going to be alright.  The man who had caused his brother such pain and suffering was now securely locked up in the jailhouse along with the other man involved.  There truly was a lot to celebrate at the moment and be thankful for.

“Now just hold your horses a bit there, Hoss,” Paul said in mock sternness.  “I said he was going to be alright, but we still need to keep a good eye on that boy for the next week or so.  I want to make sure that there are no signs of infection or any other complications from the bullet wound.   He is going to need constant rest over the next two weeks and lots of good food to help him regain his strength.”

“I don’t want to go against your diagnosis, Doctor, but seeing the torment that Joe has been put through over the last two days and few weeks before that, I thought it would be best if he could be brought home to recover in his own familiar surroundings as soon as he is able to travel safely,” Adam now suggested.

“I understand what you are saying, Adam, and to tell you the truth, I am not totally against the idea,” Paul said to everyone’s amazement.  Even Ben had a slightly shocked expression on his face at the doctor’s agreement to Joe’s recovery taking place back at the Ponderosa as soon as possible.  “And I will tell you why.   At the moment his biggest battle is the physical injuries again.  Until that bullet wound starts to heal on its own and he starts to get his strength back, his health and physical well-being are the only things we need to concern ourselves with at the moment.”

“However, once those physical injuries start to heal and he starts to be up and about again and allowed to go back to a normal routine, there is no doubt that the biggest hurdle he will have to face is himself again.   There will that fear of Thomas still for some time to come, and the nightmares at night may continue for an extended length of time.   Joe is going to need the support of his family and friends,” Paul explained.

“How long do you expect that fear to still exist Paul, now that Joe knows Thomas is behind bars?” Adam asked.

“Its very hard to tell.  Just because Joe knows about Thomas not being able to get anywhere near him, that is no reason to suspect that Joe’s fear of the man will lessen to any great degree.  Time is the only solution to Joe’s fear of his attacker and the acceptance of what has happened to him – time and that his family is there to prevent it happening again.  Time for the wounds, both physical and mental to heal.   Both he and you all will need to take things one day at a time for a while until things start to improve for him.”

“Ben, I am going to clean Joe up and get him settled into a proper bed for the night.  I will keep a close eye on him for the rest of the night.  If, by morning, there seems to be no sign of a fever or any other problems, I will probably give him a strong dose of painkillers and allow you to take him home in a padded wagon.   I suggest for tonight that you and your sons get some rest because Joe is probably going to keep you awake for much of tomorrow with his on-going care.   You are welcome to use the other beds I have so you can still be close to Joe.   I promise to wake you if there is any change in Joe’s condition at all during the night,” Paul explained.

“But I want to — ” Ben started to say before the Doctor cut him off again.

“No, Ben Cartwright.  I can see by your face that you are ready to collapse yourself.  I want Adam and Hoss there to make sure that you eat a decent meal, have a hot bath and then maybe after all of that you can come and say goodnight to Joe before you get a good night’s sleep,” Paul said admonishingly to his old friend.    He knew that Ben would want to stay with Joe as long as needed, but Joe’s care was going to be a slow process over the next couple of weeks, and he needed to make sure that Ben and his boys were taking good care of themselves as well as of Joseph.

Ben smiled sheepishly at the doctor’s advice and nodded his head in agreement of a hot meal and bath before returning to Joe.  He did, however, intend to stay with Joe for the night, no matter how hard the Doctor tried to shift him.  “Alright, Paul, something to eat and a bath.”

Paul was a little surprised that Ben had given in so easily to his demands, but his friend really did look tired from all of the stress and pressure he had been under.  There was just no telling Ben that he couldn’t worry when it came to his youngest son.

“Don’t worry, Doc, we will make sure he does what he is told,” Hoss said, as he and Adam both flanked their father as he prepared to head back to the hotel.

“Don’t forget yourselves, too,” Paul said and gently closed the door behind them.

The doctor then returned to his surgery and found his young patient in the same position as before thanks mainly to the dose of laudanum he had been given shortly after being placed on the operating table.

“You have a very worried family there, young man.  I hope you have enough sense about you when you start to heal to accept their help graciously.   Lord knows you have taken ten years off my life,” Paul said to a still sleeping Joe as he brushed back a stray lock of hair as Ben would have done if he were there.

By the time Ben and his boys returned to see Joe, the doctor had cleaned him up after surgery and was just about to move him to the bed.  He accepted Adam’s help to move the sleeping youth.  Hoss did what he could and pulled back the covers as Adam and Paul gently lowered Joe onto the clean sheets.

Joe never looked like stirring under their administrations and Paul told them this was to due to the dose of laudanum that he had given before the surgery.  He expected that Joe would sleep through the night until the next morning without much difficulty.  At the moment the wound was still sealed and the stitches were holding nicely together.  Paul had been satisfied as he had checked the bandages again for signs of fresh bleeding after Joe was placed in the bed.

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

Much to Paul’s dismay, Ben had fallen asleep awkwardly in the chair beside his son.  He didn’t have the heart to wake Ben and move him into a bed.  He just hoped that his friend would get as much rest as his son tonight.  They both needed it desperately.

At about 3.00 am that night, Ben was woken suddenly by a sound.  It wasn’t until he sat up in the chair and tried to rub some of the stiffness out of his neck that he saw that the noise had come from his son.   Joe’s eyes were still closed, but his sleep was far from peaceful.  The young man was moving about on the bed, and Ben was worried that his son would undo all of the doctor’s good work.

Paul was soon at Joe’s side, checking the young man over.   There was a slight fever present, not much to be too concerned about.  Joe seemed to settle back to sleep a little easier as a soft dampened cloth was laid across his forehead.   He mumbled something incoherently and then his movements became less and less until there were none at all.

Paul and Ben looked at each other silently but knew that Joe’s restless sleep was not entirely from his injury.  Joe still found himself locked within nightmares where he was once again back in Thomas’s clutches and there was nobody around to help him.  This time he hadn’t woken up screaming like other nights, but they had to keep an eye on him and make sure that he didn’t move around too much to cause any damage to the stitches in his side.

At 7.00 am the next morning when Adam and Hoss came into the room where Joe was sleeping, they found their brother still sleeping.  Ben had told them about the nightmare during the night.

“Hoss, you and Adam go down to the livery stable and organise a wagon from Charlie.  Try and find as many blankets and pillows as you can as well, and we will start getting things ready to take your brother home this morning.”

Joe’s brothers were only too happy to do their father’s bidding.  Both of them knew the best place for Joe to recover was at home on the ranch.

Joe had awoken briefly after they had left.  Not for long, though   He was very unfocused and didn’t understand where he was.  He could feel the pain in his side and gasped out loud as he tried to breathe in and out.  The doctor warned him that he had to take slow, deep breaths and let them out slowly in order for the pain to become more bearable.  Joe accepted some water from a glass as it was held to his lips and even swallowed a few spoonfuls of very thin broth as it was offered to him.

Within minutes of waking, though, the young man was tiring again and he could scarcely keep his eyes open.

“Its going to be alright, Joe,” Ben said, as he caressed the boy’s forehead and watched the boy’s eyes slid closed again in slumber.

“Once you get him home, Ben, you will need to try and get some food into him when you can.  Just thin broth to begin with, but a least three times a day.  You may have to wake him up to do it, but without regular food he won’t get any of his strength back.  After the second day you may find he will be awake a little more and you can try something a little solider.  Make sure you keep the fluids up to him to make up for the blood that he lost.”

“I will give you some laudanum.  Make sure you use it sparingly, though.   I think he will be tired enough to rest on his own but he may be in some considerable pain for a few days because of the wound where the bullet struck.  I will be out every day to check on him until I think the visits can be further apart.  If there is anything you need, just let me know.  If there is any change in his condition or he develops a fever, come for me straight away,” Paul instructed Ben.

Adam and Hoss now returned and informed them that the wagon was all prepared and ready for its passenger.

“Make sure that wagon goes as slow as possible over that road, Hoss,” Paul warned them.  “Any unnecessary jarring from some of those ruts may cause the stitches to break or the wound to open up and bleed.  Make sure you check the bandages once he is home, Ben, for any sign of bleeding.”

Ben assured Paul that he and the boys would take every precaution for Joe’s sake.  He knew that Paul considered Joe like a son to him.   “See you tomorrow, Paul,” he said, as they left.

Adam and Hoss carried their precious burden as carefully as they could down the stairs from the doctor’s surgery and out into the waiting wagon.  Once they placed the still sleeping Joe on the mattresses and blankets, Ben was immediately beside him, covering his son with further blankets to stop the boy becoming chilled from the trip home.

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

As the wagon bumped along the road back towards the Ponderosa, Ben Cartwright looked down at his sixteen-year-old son, who was laying down beside him in a deep sleep. The sleep was not a natural one, however. It came as the result of the drug combination that Doc Martin had administered only a few hours ago. It was supposed to help Joe not feel any physical pain from the injuries he had sustained.

But what about the emotional and mental scars that had been left behind? What about them, Ben asked himself.  How long would they take to heal? Would they ever heal? Would his young son ever recover from the torment that he had suffered at the hands of Butch Thomas over the last month?

If he could turn back the hands of time over the last few weeks and foresee what would befall his youngest son, Ben would have taken the boy out of harms way. He would have simply packed up Joseph and one of his other sons, Adam or Hoss, if necessary, and made sure that Joe was safe in another town away from the dangers that lurked.

Ben caressed the boy’s soft curls, but his son didn’t respond to his touch. It was like a brick wall had been built between them, and it was getting harder and harder to reach in and find the real Little Joe.

The boy had changed so much over the past few weeks. He had been a confident young man full of energy and laughter who filled the house with love and joy.  Now the boy was sullen and withdrawn and spoke rarely unless asked a question, and even then it was a battle to get some sort of answer.

Ben swore to himself that he didn’t care how long it took, but he and his eldest two sons would be there every minute of the day and night, if necessary, to bring the boy back from the brink and back into the safe and loving arms of his family.

“He alright back there, Pa?” Hoss asked, as he guided the wagon team as slowly as he could over the rough dirt road back to the Ponderosa.

“As well as can be expected I guess, Hoss,” Ben replied in a voice that held no emotion at all.  “We will just have to see how he goes over the next couple of days. It is going to be a difficult time for us all.”

Hoss nodded and turned his attention back to the wagon team. As they pulled up outside the ranch house, Adam came outside, followed by Hop Sing. Adam had ridden on ahead of the rest of his family to make sure that everything would be ready in time when Hoss and his father arrived back with Little Joe.

Adam looked at his father before attempting to take his younger brother out of the wagon.   He hadn’t heard the tone of Ben’s voice just a few hundred metres back, but he saw the tiredness etched on his father’s face and the worry embedded deep into his father’s brown eyes.  His father looked almost a broken man. The thing that allowed the man to go on lay beside him wrapped up in the blankets. Adam didn’t want to contemplate how his father would have gone on if Joe had not come back home. He couldn’t put into words himself how he would have felt.

One sixteen-year-old boy held the magical golden key to all their hearts and kept them all united.  Now, when this same boy had fallen along the way and looked to be heading away from his family, it was up to that family to make sure that the boy knew they all loved and needed him endlessly.

The dark thunderclouds above once again threatened to bring down the heavens in torrential rain. They needed to get the boy inside and into his bed before the rain started. The last thing he needed with all his injuries at the moment was to get sick. Hoss thought back a moment and thought that it had been raining a few days before this all started to happen as well. ‘Funny how history had a way of playing on your memory, wasn’t it,’ he thought to himself.

“Take it easy, Adam,” Ben said, knowing that his eldest son was already aware of Joe’s injuries.   “We have to check that those stitches in his side are still in place when we get him settled upstairs. Heaven knew what that rough road had done to exasperate the pain and agony his son felt.

Ben managed to move the still sleeping Joe into a half-sitting position so that Adam could wrap his strong arms around the fragile boy and lift him out of the wagon. Ben could feel a little warmth emanating through the cotton shirt that Joe wore over the top of the heavy padding and bandages around his chest.

A few spits of rain began to fall just as Adam made it to the porch with Joe nestled in his strong arms. The boy had lost so much weight from injury and stress over the last few weeks that he barely weighed anything, his brother noted with dismay. Ben picked up the tails of the blankets from behind Adam and followed his eldest son, as he carried Joe into the homestead.

Adam had made sure that Joe’s room was already warm enough before the wagon had pulled up outside. He walked into the house and climbed the staircase carrying his precious burden that failed to make a single sound.

Adam laid his unconscious brother on the clean sheets, and made sure that he was resting comfortably on the pillows while his father started to take off his shoes and socks.

Hoss had volunteered to put the horses and the wagon away, but both Adam and Ben knew that it was eating the middle Cartwright up inside to see his younger brother like this. It went against the very grain of things in Hoss’s eyes that this had happened to his brother. He hated the men who had done this to Joe. He hated the Judge who had put the boy through so much humiliation in front of everyone. He hated the justice system that put it’s sole trust in the opinions of a few witnesses.  He hated himself for being so angry.

Inside, Joe had not awoken as such, but he seemed to be having a battle against unseen demons again. The demons had probably been created from the memories of the real monsters that had stalked him and then caused him so much hurt and pain. Suffering and fear that he had hidden from his family. A deep gnawing fear that bit into the boy’s very soul and stole his spirit with it.

Ben sat on the edge of the bed, forgetting all about undressing the boy. For now, the only real important thing was to let the boy know that his family was right here with him and that he was loved.

Ben spoke softly to the boy, reminding him of how much his family had missed him and how proud they had been of him over the last few days. While Ben talked, Adam went about finishing the task of undressing the boy from his good clothes that he had worn to court. The jacket had been left back at Doc Martin’s due to the damage caused to it. Ben had declared the garment beyond repair or salvage and could no longer bear to look upon it and see it stained with his youngest son’s blood.

Adam unbuttoned Joe’s trousers once the boots were removed, and had to keep his own anger in check as he saw the bruises and scratches that marred the boy’s pale flesh. The trousers had been a little stubborn at first due to the thick bandages still adorning the boy’s left shin.  The bandages would remain on for at least another month or two, Doc Martin informed them, before it could be removed and Joe be allowed to put full weight back on that leg.

Hoss had returned to the house, and now came into the bedroom, carrying the other reminders of Joe’s injuries. He propped the two wooden crutches up against the wall in the far corner of the room. It was doubtful that the boy would be leaving his bed anytime soon in the next few days.

The crutches told the story that Joe needed more than his family’s love and caring at the moment just to stand. The boy had stumbled a number of times while trying to manoeuvre back and forth from the witness stand. To Hoss and the rest of the family they only seemed to confirm their fears about how badly Little Joe had been hurt.

Joe was sleeping soundly upstairs and was probably due to stay that way for several more hours to come. After Adam had managed to get one of Ben’s shirts over the boy’s head and bandages, they tucked the blankets in around the boy. Adam and Hoss had bid their younger brother good-night and left their father to a more private time alone with his son.

Ben had continued to talk soothing words to his son as he slept. He caressed his face, then bent down and gently kissed the boy on his bruised cheek before leaving the room.

About an hour after the Cartwright’s had returned home the three eldest of them now sat downstairs in the living room. All three were lost in their own thoughts about the events that had taken place over the last month.

Ben’s mind started to take him back to a time about a month ago when everything seemed to be going fine. If only he could go back there now.

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

By the time Ben had drained the last of the whiskey from his glass, the fire was nothing but glowing embers as he stared into them.

Over the next two days the routine was very much the same.  The day after the shooting saw Joe do nothing but sleep due to his injuries.

One the morning of the second day Ben had been totally surprised to see his son awake when he entered the room with a tray of breakfast.  He smiled at his son and set the tray on the bedside table before sitting beside him on the bed.

“How are you feeling this morning, Joseph?” Ben asked, not wanting to ask a barrage of questions about what had happened at the trial.   They could talk more about what had happened at the trial when Joe felt he was able to.

“Fine,” came the reply from Joe.  The voice was thick, and Joe’s face was still paler than Ben would have liked to see.

Ben pondered what question to ask to keep the conversation going when Joe asked a question of his own.

“When will it stop, Pa?”

“What stop, Joseph?”

“When do I get to feel safe again?   Even now, with Thomas away in prison, I don’t feel safe.   I can’t help but wonder if he is going to be released some day only to come back and torment me again.   I close my eyes to sleep and all I see is a picture of his face in my head and then his fist as it swings to hit me again,” Joe said.  His voice betrayed him as the tears started to fall down his face.

Ben put his arms around his son and held him close as the boy sobbed into the front of his shirt.  The boy was hurting so much.   It wasn’t fair.

“Look at me, Joseph,” Ben now said gently as he waited for Joe to turn his face towards him.   As Joe did so, he wiped away the tear stains from his cheeks.  “I cannot tell you when the memories will stop, son.  I would give anything I owned for you to have one night of peaceful sleep, free of nightmares.   I would do anything if I could just trade that time you were with that man and have you back home safe with me.”

“All I can tell you, Joe, is that I love you more than anything else in this world, and I would do anything to protect you.   I can’t tell you enough how it breaks my heart to see you so upset or the bruises on your body and the fear in your eyes when somebody walks into the room.”

“I hope that as the days go by, you can come to believe in me again and know that your brothers and I will always be here for you when you need us.  Your brothers are just as determined as I am to show you how much they care about you.”

“I just want it all to end, Pa,” Joe said simply and curled up against his father’s chest, letting the man’s warmth and security surround him.   It was the first time in weeks that he felt truly safe.

After a while Ben could hear his son’s even and slow breathing that indicated Joe had fallen asleep again.   He gently moved his son and laid him back down on the bed, covering him with the quilts again.

On the third day, as Paul arrived for his daily visit, Ben was surprised to see Fred Harding sitting in the buggy beside him. Fred spoke to Ben while Paul examined Joe up in his room.

Fred informed Ben that Thomas was already on his way to the State Prison by prison wagon.  Once he got back to San Francisco, he would make sure that Butch Thomas was sentenced to a long jail term for his deeds.  Williams would also do some time in prison, but his charges weren’t as serious as his partner’s.

Williams would be able to successfully argue that although he knew about the kidnap plot and even footed the bill for such a crime, he had not laid a hand on the boy and had not been responsible for any of the injuries the boy sustained.   He would also be able to defend himself when it came to the two occasions on which Butch Thomas had tormented the boy on the Ponderosa.

“Do you think I could say goodbye to the boy, Ben?” Fred asked.  The boy had come to mean something to him even though they had only met a few days ago.

“Sure, come on up.   He was still feeling very depressed this morning, but hopefully now he may be in a slightly better frame of mind,” Ben said, as he led Fred up the staircase towards Joe’s bedroom.

Ben was relieved to see Joe awake and talking to Adam and Hoss when they came into the room.

“Well, its good to see you awake, son,” Ben said.

“We were just keeping him company, Pa, while the Doc checked him over.  He’s a stubborn little cuss.  Won’t barely keep still for a second for Paul to look at him properly.  I told him I was going to sit on him if he didn’t stop squirming about,” Hoss said, as laughter shone through his blue eyes.

“Is this true, Joseph?” Ben asked in mock sternness as he stood in a demanding stance with hands on his hips.

Joe looked at his father and then at the lawyer that was in the room.  He had so much to say to the man who had helped him through the trial.  But he didn’t think that right now, in front of all of these people, was the right moment.  He would write a letter just like his father wanted and express in words his gratitude and thanks.

Joe saw the lawyer there and couldn’t help but ask him about the secret plan they both worked out together.   “Mr Harding, you know those two horses are probably still waiting for us in the livery stable back in Virginia City if we wanted to make that escape.  I just need you to give me a hand getting out of this bed, and we can be on our way,” Joe said jokingly.

“Joseph Cartwright, you will not move on inch out of that bed or so help me…” Paul Martin started to say as he pointed a threatening finger at this most reluctant of patient’s.

“Oh don’t worry Paul.  I have something to say about this,” Ben said to his friend and then turned to address his son “Joseph, believe me, it is going to be a long time before you are allowed off this ranch again without me or your brothers present.   Do I make myself clear young man?  I will tell you what I told your partner in crime here,” Ben said, as he indicated Fred Harding   “You and he are restricted to the ranch until further notice.   There will a list of chores posted on the barn door for you and him to complete as part of your punishment.”

Everyone in the room laughed heartily at Ben’s words and the looks on Joe’s and Fred’s faces.   Joe had to stop laughing, though, as his side began to ache.

“Boy, Mr Harding.  How does it feel to be one of the highest paid lawyers in the state, but grounded by my Pa?” he said and laughed again whilst holding onto his side.

Joe’s family watched him intently as he joined in the laughter in the room.  It was the first real laughter they had heard coming from the boy for a very long time.  It was a very good sound to hear.  They hoped that this was the first turning step in a whole new direction for Joe.  Hopefully, if he could find laughter in himself, he could begin the healing process and eventually push the dark memories to the back of his mind.  They probably would never be gone completely, but hopefully they could be suppressed by happier memories.

Epilogue:

Over the next few weeks, Joe’s injuries began to heal as well as his mind.   There were nights where the nightmares would become real again and Joe found himself being surrounded by his family’s love in order to drive them away again.

As he was given more freedom to move about the house and then the ranch, his family could almost see the real Joe resurfacing again.  Everybody was able to relax a little more, and meal times were shared when them talking to each other again.   The Cartwright household was almost back to normal.

It was only on odd occasions when Joe would be laughing, but then fall into a deep silence as he stared out in front of him with a look that Ben knew his son still remembered.   Joe’s eyes would grow darker in thought and a shadow would cross his face as something triggered his memory.  Just as quickly as it had come, though, the mood would pass and his family would never suspect that anything had happened at all.

About a month after he had been allowed to return to light duties, Joe was in Virginia City, collecting the mail as part of his restricted duties for his father.

As he ambled back into the wagon loaded with supplies and took a look at the five envelopes in his hand, his curiosity was alerted when one of the letters held his name on the front.   He didn’t remember writing to anybody lately except Fred Harding, and he had already received a reply to that letter weeks ago.

Joe put the letters aside for the time being and drove the wagon and team home as instructed, knowing that his father would only worry if he were late.   About halfway home, though, the curiosity become just too great, and he pulled the team off to the side of the road and reached for the handwritten envelope.

He turned it over in his hand a couple of times before opening it, trying to judge from the outside who it was from.   There was no postmark on it to say where it was from and no return address on the back of the envelope.  Without giving it another thought, he slid his finger under the envelope flap and tore the top open.   There was a single-page letter inside.

As his eyes scanned the words, his hand flew to his mouth to stop the gasp that was on the tip of his tongue. He read the words again, scarcely able to believe what they said:

SOMEDAY I WILL COME BACK.   YOU AND I WILL MEET AGAIN – I PROMISE………………………………..

BUTCH THOMAS

Joe refolded the piece of paper and placed it back into the envelope and then tore both the envelope and letter into small pieces, scattering them in the wind as he went.  He knew he couldn’t let his family see such a note.

Just as he was about to start the wagon team again, a cool gust of wind blew against the nape of his neck.  He pulled his jacket close around him and looked behind him…  He shivered slightly and then gave the reins a sharp snap to start the team towards home.

THE END

 

FROM THE AUTHOR – I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS STORY – I REALLY LIKED WRITING IT.   THANKS TO ALL OF THE PEOPLE OUT THERE FOR THEIR KIND-HEARTED WORDS.  AND THANKS TO THOSE WHO ALLOWED ME TO USE THEIR IDEAS, THOUGHTS OR CHARACTERS IN MY STORY.

Special thanks to Satu for being such a pal.

JULES