2

The boys around Ben and one of the ones by Joe put up their knives and started gathering up rifles, guns and supplies. Unfortunately, the boys around Hoss stayed put, as did the ones threatening to cut Adam’s throat. Hoss moved his gaze back and forth between Joe and Adam, but every time he made even the slightest move in either direction, that spear would prick at his belly, putting little tears in his shirt and scraping his skin just enough to draw small bits of blood. The boy holding the spear had a sort of look in his eye, too, like he wanted to do more than just keep nicking at Hoss’s gut. He was holding back; Hoss was sure of it. The way the boy’s eyes kept moving to that older one, Hoss was also pretty sure it would take just one little nod, and then Hoss would be dead or dying no more than a second later.

When a holler Hoss couldn’t understand pulled his attention, he saw the lead boy pushing a hand against Doc Martin’s chest. Pa, standing beside the doc, gave Hoss a look that said everything Hoss felt. Here they were, five grown men, and they couldn’t do a danged thing without first getting this boy’s permission.

“Just let me see to Little Joe,” the doc was saying.

“No.” The boy held firm.

“You mean to have us go with you,” Hoss said then. “Ain’t that right?”

The lead boy nodded, an action that sent a chill through Hoss although he knew it had not been intended to allow the spear-holder to do what he clearly wanted to do.

“Then you’d better let the doc do what he needs to, ’cause Joe’s gonna have a hard time movin’ with that arrow in his arm.”

The lead boy filled his chest up with air, seeming to look like he was trying to make himself bigger. “Zee coo chee,” he said then, without turning. He said some other words, too, words that all ran together in Hoss’s head. Whatever he said, it caused another small grunt from Joe.

Hoss turned his attention so fast to his little brother that spear in his gut nicked a little deeper this time around. He suppressed a grunt of his own, and then was relieved to see the boy with Joe had done nothing more than grab him by his bad arm. He was motioning for Joe to move with him. But they weren’t headed toward the doc. They were headed right toward Hoss.

Curious and concerned, Hoss met Joe’s gaze as they approached. Joe was hurting, that was for sure, but he was also angry. It was a kind of anger Hoss was more than used to seeing, a kind that meant Joe was determined to do something to stop these boys. Trouble was, Hoss couldn’t see how any of them could do anything at all, without it causing Adam to get his throat slit, and maybe Hoss to get gutted. He shook his head. It was a gesture as tiny as one of those nods that lead boy had given to his fellas, and it said everything those nods didn’t say. Don’t try anything yet, Joe. Not yet.

“You,” the lead boy said. “Break.”

Hoss looked at him, puzzled. The boy made a gesture with his hands, like he was breaking a twig. Then he pointed to Joe, and then the arrow.

“You. Break,” the boy repeated.

Hoss turned to Doc Martin. “Doc,” he called out, cocking his head to silently draw him closer. Then he looked to the boy again. “We’ll need some things. A knife, for one.” Hoss glanced at the boys surrounding him. “And I can’t do anything standing around here like a stuck pig.”

“No!” The lead boy pushed back against the doc again. “No knife,” he said to Hoss, pronouncing the word as though it was known to him but still unfamiliar on his tongue. “You break. Break!” he repeated, once again making that gesture with his hands.

“What are you saying?” Pa said then. “You just want him to break the shaft? What about the arrowhead itself? That has to come out!”

The boy looked from Pa to Hoss, and then finally to Joe before returning his gaze to Hoss again. “No out. Break shaft. Break!”

“You can’t expect me to leave that thing in there,” Hoss argued.

The boy puffed out his chest again, and his eyes went dark. “Da boo zee!” he hollered.

This time it was Adam who grunted, only it was a strangled sort of grunt, and seeing as how that knife had been poised over Adam’s throat, the sound about froze the blood in Hoss’s veins. He looked Adam’s way, terrified at what he might see. His first glimpse of a thin, red line beneath Adam’s chin made him feel like his own heart had stopped working altogether. But then he realized it was a thin line only, a shallow cut intended to show what they could do, and maybe even would do, if Hoss didn’t meet their leader’s demands.

“Alright,” Hoss said softly, his own throat tightening around any remaining arguments. “I’ll do it. I’ll break the shaft.” He met Adam’s gaze briefly, but then Adam closed his eyes. Hoss knew what that meant. Adam felt useless, held back like he was by two young bucks he’d normally be able to whoop any day of the week—two young bucks who’d not only whooped him, but who seemed as eager to slit his throat as the boy with the spear was to gut Hoss.

Only…when he started to turn his attention back to Joe, Hoss realized the boy with the spear had pulled back. Hoss was sure it wasn’t on account of the kid being any less eager to gut him; more likely it was just because it was obvious Hoss needed freedom enough to do what the lead boy had told him to do.

What he really needed was freedom enough to corral these boys and send them on back to their tribe; but Hoss figured he’d better take what he could get. Appreciating the elbow-room, he took a deep breath, and then put all of his thoughts into helping Joe as much as he could.

“This is gonna hurt, little brother,” he said, locking his gaze onto Joe’s.

Joe’s jaw-line hardened, his back drawing straight. “Just get on with it.”

Hoss gave a quick nod, and then started to examine the wound. It was ugly alright, though it might not have been all that bad if it hadn’t been for the way that kid had twisted the arrow all around. If Hoss could figure a way to anchor that arrowhead, then maybe he could avoid causing any more damage. Trouble was, the only thing he could really anchor would be Joe’s arm itself. As his eyes began to follow the trail of his thoughts, Hoss noticed the knuckles on Joe’s left hand had gone white as could be. Little Joe was putting a whole lot of effort into anchoring that arm himself—more effort than he could afford to expend if they were all going to be herded off to wherever these boys were planning to take them.

“Break shaft!” the lead-boy shouted.

“I’m gettin’ to it!” Hoss hollered back, his thoughts too focused to allow himself to realize that boy didn’t like to be argued with.

Fortunately, those focused thoughts gave him an idea. Saying nothing further, he unhooked his belt from around his waist and then brought it up to wrap it around Joe, arranging it to secure Joe’s bad arm to his upper body. After he got it positioned just right, he pulled it tight as he could and then fastened the buckle. “It’s a good thing you’re smaller than me, short shanks.”

“Just make sure you stay behind me so I don’t have to see you drop your trousers.”

The smiles they shared were small, but real enough to let Hoss start to think how silly this was all going to sound when it came time to tell the story to folks back in Virginia City. “So how you gonna explain all this to Mitch and Tuck next time you’re in town?” he asked just before setting himself to examining the arrow shaft itself.

“Explain it?” Joe said light as he could. “Are you kidding me? You don’t actually plan to tell anyone we were bested by a bunch of boys, do you?”

He really ought to get Joe to sit down, Hoss decided. But the best option for that was the log over by Adam, and Hoss knew the lead boy would never allow them to go that far.

“Not a chance, Joe,” Hoss answered. “Way I’m gonna tell it….” He got a good grip on the shaft. “These here ain’t boys at all. They’re full grown warriors, the whole lot of ’em.”

“It’d sure make a better story. You don’t think big brother over there is gonna go and ruin it for us by telling the truth, do you?”

“Way I see it….” Hoss settled his sights on what seemed to be a weak spot in the wood. “He was bested worse than either of us. He’ll be more than willing to bend the truth this time around.”

“Now that’s something I’ve got to see. Adam telling tall tale—”

Snapping that shaft seemed to snap Joe right along with it.

“Sorry, Joe,” Hoss said, catching him as his knees gave out. Hoss didn’t even think twice about it anymore, he just started guiding Joe over toward that log.

There was a whole mess of yelling going on around him, a bunch of Indian words he couldn’t make any sense of—words he didn’t care to make any sense of. But then, just as soon as Joe sat down, Hoss felt the sting of that spear again, this time in his lower back.

XxXxX

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