Summary:  An old friend requests the Cartwrights’ help when vengeance comes calling

Rating:  T

Word Count:  4748

Hoss dug through his mid-day plate of beans, looking for the ones soft enough to eat.  The drive couldn’t end soon enough as he’d been plagued by a toothache, grown tired of Adam’s singing, and had nearly lost his enjoyment of food because the cook alternated between burned and undercooked meals.  Hoss could do without another piece of charred bacon, unlike his older brother who was the happiest of them all every morning when he got his breakfast from the chuckwagon.

“Dadburnit!”  Hoss winced and pressed a hand to his cheek.

Dropping his fork onto his plate, Joe glared at his biggest brother.  “I’ll fix that tooth if you don’t quit moaning about it.”

“Ain’t no need for that, Joe.  This toothache is a misery and these here beans don’t help.”

Ben and Adam approached with their plates.  Adam squatted and sighed before tucking into his lunch.

“Drive ends tomorrow.”  Ben pointed at his largest son with his fork.  “You get that tooth pulled.”

“Yessir,” muttered Hoss.

Adam hummed between mouthfuls of beans.

“I’m sick near to death of hearin’ that tune,” said Hoss.

Adam scraped his fork across the metal plate and hummed louder.

Hoss tapped the top of older brother’s hat.  “Sweet Betsy from Pike ain’t so sweet anymore.  Even the steers are tired of hearin’ it.”

“Yeah,” said Joe, “all that musical knowledge in your head and you can’t think of something else to sing?”

Adam stood and stretched his back.  He raised an eyebrow and said, “Neither of you complained when my singing last night kept the cattle from stampeding with that panther prowling around.”

Hoss returned his attention to his plate.  He bit down on a still hard bean and yelped.  He pressed a hand against his cheek and muttered, “That cat caterwauled because it didn’t like your singin’, either.”

Adam knocked the plate from Hoss’s hand.  “I’ll doctor you up if you don’t quit bellyaching,” he said through a tight-lipped smile.

“Boys,” said Ben in tone his sons knew well.

“You ain’t no doctor,” said Hoss.  He pushed Adam, causing his older brother to stagger and nearly fall down.

Joe, eager to be the “good one” for once, got between his brothers and tried to be the peacemaker.  It was bad timing as Adam’s swing connected with Joe’s face.

“That’s enough!” Ben grabbed Joe by the shoulders and swung him away from Adam and Hoss.

“Sorry, Pa,” said Hoss.

“Yeah,” added Adam, eyes downcast.

“Don’t ‘sorry, Pa’ me.  This has been a miserable drive and the three of you at each other’s throats is rubbing off on everyone.”

Pounding hooves mingled with shouts for “Boss.”

Anger and toothache forgotten, the four Cartwrights took in the panic-stricken face of a boy who couldn’t have been more than eight.

“Boy says he’s got a message,” said Dave, a Ponderosa hand.

“Sheriff Beecher says to come quick.”  The boy swallowed hard and scrunched his eyelids as if he were trying to recall the exact words he’d been told to say.  “A Cartwright never turns down a friend who needs helping.”

Tad Beecher had been a Ponderosa hand, one of the best, but the man had had a nose for trouble.  Despite that, the man was slick enough to talk his way out of most situations.  Except when Tad and Joe got into a fight at the Silver Dollar in Virginia City and Tad shot a man who Tad said had drawn and aimed for Joe.  Hoss believed Tad because Tad had shot to wound, not kill.  Hadn’t mattered to Pa – he sent Tad on his way with an extra month’s wages.  Since then, Tad had become a respectable lawman and settled down.

Ben addressed the boy.  “I have to get these cattle to Fort Churchill day after tomorrow.”  He sighed at the boy’s crestfallen expression.  “I can spare two of my sons.”  He fished around in his vest pocket then turned his back to everyone as he prepared the matches.  Extending his fist to his sons, he said, “Long ones go to Washoe City.”

Hoss wiped a hand on his vest.  He wanted to be free of the aching tooth but Tad was a friend.  He picked his match and held it close, waiting to see what his brothers got.

Joe and Adam drew and held their matches forth between thumb and forefinger.  Hoss felt the disappointment coming off his older brother.  Running his tongue over the offending tooth, Hoss silently promised not to gripe about his misery.

Hoss patted the boy’s thigh.  “You go on back and tell the sheriff me and my brother will be there shortly.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving in Washoe City, Hoss couldn’t help but think it looked to be a deserted town.  An old-timer or two usually occupied the bench outside the mercantile, watching the comings and goings of people sunrise to sunset. No tinny piano music drifted out of the Golden Cur Saloon.

Hoss brushed a palm against the back of his neck – the fine hairs were standing on end.  Pa called that a sixth sense but Mama Marie had had a French word for it.

Adam looked up and saw the glint of a rifle barrel.  “Men are on the roofs.”

Tad Beecher stepped out of a house midway down the street.  The tin badge on his vest gleamed in the late afternoon sun.  He casually held a rifle, barrel pointed to the street.

Hoss and Adam dismounted and settled their horses over to the hitching rail.

“I sure am glad to see you boys,” the lawman said.

“You look like you haven’t slept in a month,” said Hoss.

“Feels that long.  Let’s go inside and you’ll see why I asked you to come.”

The three men stepped into the small house.  Hoss and Adam doffed their hats as they greeted Tad’s wife, Lupita, who was setting the table.

“You should be resting,” said Tad to his heavily pregnant wife.

Lupita smiled at her husband. “Who will cook and clean, mi amor?”  She extended her hands to greet Hoss and Adam; Hoss kissed her cheek while Adam kissed her hand.  Niceties out of the way, she said, “I’ll make more tortillas,” then waddled for the kitchen, a hand pressed against her lower back.

Hoss took a long whiff of the aromas drifting from the kitchen.  Woman-cooked beans were bound to be far better than what they’d had on the drive.

Tad extended a hand towards the table.  “Take a seat, boys, I’ll tell you the whole miserable tale.”

“Two weeks ago, Saturday, there was an all-out brawl in the Golden Cur.  When men come to town to get drunk the littlest thing can set someone off.  A man ran into my office, said Irv, the bartender at the Cur, sent him to fetch me to come break up a fight.  I figured Irv had tried everything he knew without success so he thought folks would respect the badge.  You boys know me – I try talking first.  I stepped in the saloon and a chair hit the wall too close for comfort.”  One corner of Tad’s mouth turned up as he snorted.  “Reminded me of that time Little Joe and I busted up the Silver Dollar.”

“Talking didn’t work?” asked Adam.

Tad shook his head.  “I fired a shot into the ceiling and got everyone’s attention.  Then the bickering started.  Several men claimed Jack Greenwood, the meanest drunk I ever saw, started it when he slapped Greta McAllen for not paying near enough attention to him, said she was no better than a whore to dally with every man who bought her a drink.  Every man but him.”

“McAllen?” asked Adam.

“Kin to Fritz?” asked Hoss.

“Yeah, the same man wanted for robbery and murder on both sides of the Sierra Nevada,” Tad said softly before taking a sip of water.  “Maybe Jack started the ruckus, maybe he didn’t, but everyone was itching to beat the stuffing out of Jack and his slapping Greta was as good a reason as any.  I figured it made the most sense to lock up Jack for the night, let him sleep it off while everyone else cooled down.  But Jack didn’t see it that way.  I thought I could haul him off without slapping cuffs on him if I dazed him with a tap upside the head with my pistol.  That was my mistake.”  Tad’s lips pursed as he blew out a breath.  “Don’t know how much he’d drank but the liquor had made him as ornery as a bronc new to the saddle.  I wrapped my arms around Jack but he twisted and turned and stomped at my boots.  Next thing he got an arm free and tried clawing the pistol from my hand.  Gun went off and a woman fell to the floor screaming.  Greta. I let go of Jack and went to her. I tried staunching the blood coming from her belly but it wouldn’t stop.  Jack shouted everyone was a witness, it was my bullet that killed her if she died.”

Lupita set two extra plates on the table then rested her hands on her husband’s shoulders.  Tad reached up and covered one of her hands with his.

“Someone fetched the doc.  He said only thing he could do was ease the pain of dying.  Poor girl lingered for two days.”

“You were doing your job,” said Adam.  “I know that sounds cold but it wasn’t your fault.”

Tad continued. “Jack must have thought he could save his hide if got to McAllen first and told them I killed Greta, not him.  A horse walked into town this morning with Jack tied in the saddle.  Jack was wearing a duster too big for him and a death threat was pinned to the back of it.”  He pulled the piece of paper from his vest pocket and set it in front of Adam and Hoss.  The note said ‘a woman for a woman’.  “When the doc and I took that duster off Jack it looked like five men had emptied their pistols into him.”  Tad took a deep breath and squeezed his wife’s hand.

“That why nobody was on the street when we rode in?” asked Hoss.

“My husband told people they should leave but no one would go.”

“Folks figure if Lupita stays, they ought to do the same.”

“By the way, how’d you know our whereabouts?” asked Hoss.

“A couple days ago, a few boys ignored their chores to go fishing.  They came back talking about a cattle drive and how someday they wanted to be giving orders like the fellah in the green jacket on the paint.  I know only one man who wears a green jacket and rides a paint.  Billy was one of those boys, so I sent him with orders to look for the dust cloud and find Mr. Cartwright.”

“Pa an’ Little Joe are finishing the drive so looks like you’re stuck with us,” said Hoss with a wink for Lupita.

“I know I can trust you both to protect my wife. And our baby.”

“Couldn’t help but notice men on roofs as we came in,” said Adam.  “They want to keep their town safe, too.”

Tad looked Adam square in the eye. “I know you won’t scare easy when the lead starts flying.”

Lupita gasped then smiled down at her husband as he looked up at her with worry on his face.  She pressed a hand to her swollen belly.  “Your son kicks like a mule.”  She placed a gentle kiss against Tad’s forehead then said, “I’ll get supper on the table.”

“I’d be right pleased to help, ma’am,” said Hoss as he followed Lupita to the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~

After supper was eaten Hoss helped Lupita with the cleaning up despite her insistence he relax with another cup of coffee.  Adam, accompanied by Tad, led Sport and Chubb to the livery.  Afterwards, the two men walked the town, in the pastel glow of the sunset.  Adam noted the layout of the streets and the alleys where darkness could swallow up a man.

“I know McAllen and his men are out there, biding their time.”

Adam gave Tad’s belly a pat with the back of his hand.  “You get some sleep tonight.  Hoss and I will keep watch.  Tell me where you want me to walk or if I should just sit in your office.”

Tad shook his head.  “I’ve told everyone to stay inside after dark.  I’ll sleep easier with an extra pair of eyes watching the street.”

“A pot of coffee will do and any cookies if Lupita has any made.  Hoss finds night watch hungry work.”

Both men chuckled as they headed back for the Beecher’s house.

~~~~~~~~~~

Adam padded into the sitting room, wiping sleep from his eyes.  He yawned and said, “Figure it’s about time to relieve you.”

Hoss swallowed the last of his coffee and left his hand of Solitaire unfinished.  “It’ll feel right good to lay on a soft bed, even if you’ve already been in it.”

Adam noticed a small bottle on the table and picked it up.  He read the label by the dim light of the lamp.  “Teething medicine?”

“Miss Lupita put it up for the baby.  She figured I oughta dose my toothache with it.  Works sure enough.”

“You better sleep like a baby.  Wouldn’t want your snoring to wake the whole town.”

Hoss stretched out his arms as his mouth gaped open in a yawn.  “Pot on the stove is nearly empty.”  He headed off to the spare bed, rubbing the back of his neck.  Sleep didn’t come easy once he settled into the mattress.  He pictured the house’s rooms and judged which corners would offer the most safety for Lupita when the shooting started. The dining table would make a sturdy barricade.  He and Adam would need to be in sight of the front and back doors but have a window to fire through.  “Sure wish Pa and Little Joe were here,” he mumbled before he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hoss awoke to breakfast smells.  He ambled into the living room like a still-groggy bear leaving its den after hibernation.  Neither Adam nor Tad was at the table.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes’m.  A fellah couldn’t ask for a softer bed after weeks of sleepin’ on the ground.”

She poured steaming coffee and added a splash of milk without asking if that was how her guest took it.  “You believe those men will come, verdad?”

“I sure do, ma’am.  Men like that live on anger and revenge.”  He gently laid a hand on her arm.  “Me and my brother are gonna make sure nothing happens to you or the baby.  You have my word.”

Lupita drew in a ragged breath.  “Words are easily forgotten.”

“Ma’am, a Cartwright’s word is a binding oath.”  He gave her arm a light squeeze.  “Now let me show you how I like my bacon.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Hoss was on his fourth biscuit when the front door opened and Adam poked his head in.  The large man excused himself from the table and went out to the front porch, biscuit in hand.

Adam, wearing his yellow coat to stave off the morning chill, scratched at his cheek then leaned against the porch rail.  Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a box of bullets and handed it over. “We cleaned out the store this morning.”

After a look over Hoss’s shoulder, Adam lowered his voice.  “Men who watched from the rooftops yesterday are refusing to support Tad.  One man said Tad should just hand Lupita over ‘cause McAllen won’t hurt her when he sees her condition.”

Hoss snorted and shook his head.  He took in the red clouds streaking across the morning sky and recalled Pa’s oft-said ‘sailor take warning’ on days like this.

“What was that word Mama Marie used to say when she had a feeling of spiders crawling up her spine?”

“Frisson.”

Hoss nodded.  “That’s what I got.”

Adam plucked the remainder of the biscuit from Hoss’s fingers and popped it in his mouth.  “Lupita will be safer in the jail.  Masonry walls stop bullets better than wood.”

Hoss frowned at the crumbs speckling his fingers.  “Reckon so.  Front windows and two doors.”

A groan caught their attention and they went in the house.  Lupita leaned against the table, a hand pressed to her lower belly.

“Not now, mijo,” she said as the color faded from her cheeks.

Hoss took her by the shoulders.  “Our little brother, Joe, was the same way, ma’am.  Mighty eager to get into the world but not so impressed with it when he arrived.”

Lupita laughed before her body tensed again.

“You come with us, ma’am.  We’re taking you over to the jail.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You’ll be safer there,” said Adam.  He caught Hoss’s eye.

“Ma’am? “We’re gonna do everything we can to make sure nothing happens to you or the baby.  Or Tad.”

Lupita wiped the heel of a hand below each eye and drew herself up to her full height of five foot nothing.  “I won’t have my baby born in a jail.  Would you have him grow up to be like those men who want to kill me?”

Hoss reached for her arm, determined to take her to the jail by force, but she slapped his hand away.

Adam blew a hard breath from his nose and asked, “When have you ever won an argument with a woman?”

Hoss shook his head and muttered under his breath as he left the room.  He returned moments later with the mattress from Lupita’s bed.  Jamming it against the living area wall, he said “You come on and get settled.”  He held tight to her hands as he lowered her onto the moss-stuffed bedding, her back supported against the wall.

“Let’s get this table turned over,” said Adam.

They put the table on its side, a crude shield to protect their friend’s wife.

“I’ll replace the windowpanes, ma’am,” said Hoss as he busted them out of the front windows with the rifle barrel.  Despite his best attempt to shield his face, warm trickles oozed down his unshaved cheeks.

Adam pulled a book from a slender shelf, nestled into the corner by the window, and tried to read.  Hoss noticed his brother hadn’t made any progress after five minutes.

Lupita moaned and panted.  Hoss squatted down between the gap in the wall and table.  “Ma’am, if you can at all, try your best to be silent.”  He flinched at her glare, a blazing look that made the room feel a mite hotter.  She moaned again and pressed both hands against her belly, as if she could will her body to refuse to birth her baby.

There’ll be death and birth this day, thought Hoss as he got to his feet.

~~~~~~~~~~

An hour had passed without so much as a mouse in the street.  The air was still, the house growing hotter despite the open windows.  Lupita’s moans hadn’t subsided but Hoss knew babies could take hours or more than a day once a woman’s labor came on.

Adam slouched by the window but had given up on the book.  Instead, he rolled the cylinder of his pistol back and forth across one knee. He’d shed his jacket and it was crumpled nearby on the floor.

“Where’s Tad?” Lupita asked for the fourth time.

“He’s where he needs to be,” said Hoss.

Silence descended again but was broken shortly by Lupita’s groans and gasps as her labor pains grew more intense.

“I don’t mean to worry you none, Miss Lupita, but sometimes a mare thinks it’s time for her foal to come but it’s just a false start.”

Hoss didn’t understand her words but he got the gist of what Lupita said.

“I suggest you don’t compare her to a horse again,” said Adam, unsuccessfully hiding his smirk.

A group of eight men, guns in hand, trotted their mounts down the street.  One man stood apart from the rest.  Fritz McAllen, dressed in a black frock coat and white shirt, looked more akin to a modest preacher but his rig, studded in silver, belied his ill-gotten wealth.

“Hand over the woman!”

“Can’t do that.”

“Tad,” said Lupita in a tone of combined hope and relief.

Neither Hoss nor Adam had a clear view of the entire street length and they didn’t know where Tad was holed up.

“You give her to us or we burn her out.”

A strangled gasp escaped Lupita’s throat.  “You’ll be all right, ma’am,” whispered Hoss.

A bullet slammed into the window frame, splintering fine pieces of wood into projectiles.  Hoss’s hand took the brunt of it.

“You okay?” asked Adam.

“I’ve had worse bee stings,” said Hoss.

“Fifteen minutes, your choice.”  McAllen and his men galloped out of town.

Lupita’s sobs gave way to moans.

Hoss tossed his brother’s coat over the table.  “You bite down hard on that when the pains get strong.”  He merely shrugged a shoulder in response to the question on his brother’s face.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hoss checked the mantle clock for the tenth time in thirteen minutes.  “Think McAllen is all bluff?”

Adam shook his head.

Both men looked up at the sound of boots on the roof.  Adam cocked his head, listening, then aimed his rifle at the ceiling.

Lupita stifled a scream at the noise within the room.

They were rewarded with a voice yelling out curses and the sound of a body hitting the ground out back.

“And you and Joe thought it a waste all those times I played billiards,” said Adam, a smile lighting up his face.

“Good to know figurin’ angles is good for something,” said Hoss as a barrage of bullets slammed into the front door.

Hoss and Adam returned fire, shooting blindly where they figured McAllen and his men had to be.

At a lull in the gunfire, Hoss crawled on hands and knees over to Lupita’s hiding place, ignoring the glass fragments grinding into his palms.  Her eyes were scrunched in concentration as she bit the sleeve of Adam’s coat.  Hoss figured her labor pains hadn’t changed since the intensity of her moans hadn’t increased.

Adam hissed as a bullet smacked into the back wall.  Hoss crawled back to his station and asked, “You okay?”

“Just a bit of hide,” said Adam as he pulled his bandana from his back pocket and wound it around his forearm.

A man stepped far enough out of the shadows and Hoss drew a bead on him.  “I may not shoot as fancy but I hit my mark,” said Hoss as the man fell, blood on his chest blossoming like fresh-opened rose petals.

Adam chuckled and waited for the next opportunity.

~~~~~~~~~~

Silence had fallen again.  Adam laid out what remained of their ammunition on the floor between them.  Hoss’s stomach rumbled, accustomed to being filled on schedule.  “I’d rather have a belly full of steak than lead,” he muttered while watching the street.

Lupita’s moans had subsided, so Hoss hoped the baby wasn’t on the way after all.

A gunshot tore through the still air.  One of McAllen’s men dragged Tad into the street and let him fall into the dirt.  Tad rolled onto his side and drew his knees up.

“Don’t hand her over!”

The man who’d shot Tad kicked him in the back; the lawman cried out.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Lupita asked.

“No, ma’am, he ain’t,” said Hoss.

Adam absently stroked his pistol’s hammer with his thumb.  “Two against six.  Odds have been worse.”

Hoss shook the shells out of the cylinder and plucked up three bullets from the floor.

“You got ‘til the count of ten,” Fritz ordered.  “One.  Two.  Three.”

Hoss rested his arm on the windowsill.

“Four.  Five.  Six.”

“I’ll go,” Lupita said in a shaky voice.

“No need,” said Hoss as pulled back his pistol’s hammer.

“Seven.  Eight.”

Flame belched from Hoss’s pistol. Fritz’s head snapped back as a bullet plowed through his forehead and he crumpled to the ground.  “Here you thought I never paid attention when you were at the billiards table.”

With Fritz down, townsmen emerged from their houses, willing to take on the beast now that its head had been chopped off.

Lupita screamed, “Tad.” Hoss crawled over to her hiding place.  “You’ll have to take care of things out there,” he said over his shoulder to Adam as he moved the table.

Adam didn’t object.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hoss stepped out into the late afternoon sun, wiping his hands with Lupita’s apron.  The baby had a head-full of black hair and a healthy squall. He noted the red clouds had returned but pa always said it meant all was well at the end of the day.

Adam ambled up the street, a white sling in stark contrast to his black shirt.

“Doc said the damage is more than hide.  Told me not to work it for a couple weeks.”  Adam elbowed Hoss in the ribs.  “As good an excuse as any to make Joe take over my chores.”   He wiped sweat from his forehead with his bloodied bandana.  “How are Lupita and the baby?”

“Just fine,” said Hoss.  “She’s eager to see Tad.”

“Doc said the bullet went right through Tad’s leg, didn’t hit anything vital.  Tad will be fine as long as he stays in bed until he’s healed up.”

“Speaking of fine,” said Hoss.

Tad struggled up the street on crutches so Hoss leant a hand by hoisting the man up with an arm around the waist.  “I can walk just fine,” the lawman protested.

“A newborn foal walks better than you,” said Hoss as he hauled his friend through the door.

Adam sat on the porch rail, politely greeting passersby.  Hoss returned to the porch, glowing with pride at bringing a new life into the world.

Hoofbeats caught their attention.  The cavalry had arrived too late.

Hoss rubbed teething medicine along the gum over the offending tooth then stashed the bottle in his vest pocket.

“Had a bit of trouble?” Ben asked, taking in Adam’s sling, the dried blood on Hoss’s hands, and the splintered wood of the Beecher’s front door and windows.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” said Adam.

A baby’s cry drifted out of the house.  Hoss’s face lit up and he said, “Come greet your namesake,” with a jerk of his head at the door.

Ben dismounted, his chest puffed up with pride.

Hoss led Ben and Joe to the Beecher’s spare bedroom as the mattress to their bed remained on the floor.

“Why is the table on its side?” asked Joe.

“Don’t matter,” said Hoss as he gently rapped against the door, awaiting permission to enter.

Lupita cradled the baby as Tad cooed over their child.

“I’m honored you named your son for me,” said Ben.

“Daughter.  And not just you,” said Tad.  “I’m pleased for you to meet Cartwright Beecher.”

“That’s a terrible name for a girl,” said Joe, making a face at Hoss that suggested the Beechers must be out of their minds.

“A strong name for a strong child,” Lupita said with a warm smile at Hoss.

“You’re gonna need this,” Hoss said as he set the teething medicine on the dresser.

“What did I tell you about getting that tooth pulled?” said Ben as he and his sons made their way back to the porch.

Hoss didn’t care about the tooth, not just because the medicine had dulled the pain.  The day was coming to a close and he was safe within the harbor created by his family.  A new life had entered the world amid the ugliness of vengeance masquerading as love.  Cartwright Beecher need not ever know her life could have ended on her birthday; only important thing was her parents’ love for her.  No, a strong right hook would be far more important – kids were bound to tease her about her name.

“What?” asked Hoss brought out of his thoughts by a slap to the shoulder.

“Let’s get some supper,” said Joe.

“You go on ahead.  I want to watch the sunset a mite longer.”

The End

Author’s Note:

Written for the 2021 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament.   The game was Five Card Draw and the words and/or phrases I was dealt were:

Dally
Deserted town
Toothache
Be silent
Get drunk