Summary: This story picks up near the very end of the aired episode. The Judge has been removed from power, but was he working alone? Escorted by the Cartwrights and the freed prisoners, the journey home begins.
Rating:  PG  (79,180 words)

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The Brandsters have included this author in our project: Preserving Their Legacy. To preserve the legacy of the author, we have decided to give their work a home in the Bonanza Brand Fanfiction Library.  The author will always be the owner of this work of fanfiction, and should they wish us to remove their story, we will.

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Author’s Notes:

A recap of the original aired episode (from season 12)
Ben, Hoss, Joe, Candy and a hired hand, young Billie, take a short cut home on horseback after completing a long cattle drive. Their route takes them through the high mountains with puts them directly into the path of a prison camp which is being run by a vicious, tyrannical man, known as The Judge. The Judge’s hired deputies kill young Billie and take the other four captive where they are shackled alongside other falsely imprisoned men and made to work the gold mine as slave labor. Joe escapes, throws off the scent of the dogs and doubles back to the camp. Everyone is freed and sent home.

What Happened Instead
Adam replaces Candy — Joe’s Injury has been changed.
This is my 1st fan fiction and, as such, all medical, geographical, historical & timeline accounts have been subjected to this author’s whims. Special thanks to my brilliant beta readers for their invaluable contributions and use of their eagle eyes, which helped keep me on the realistic side.

ENJOY

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KINGDOM OF FEAR

Monday -Noon – An Awfully Long Lunch Break

Hatch smiled. He was going to enjoy this. He had hated the trouble making Cartwrights ever since they had crossed the un-posted property lines just two days ago. The ruthless Deputy did not even bother looking for specific signs to track Joe’s escape; he just headed straight down the hilly landscape towards Glacier Lake. The lake was the first place that every escapee tried to reach. If a man could get to the lake he’d have a chance to throw the dogs off his scent and increase his odds of avoiding capture. But no escape from the prison mining camp had ever yet been done successfully.

Joe Cartwright had plans to change that. Joe had managed to slip away from the work site undetected, giving him a slight head start but knew it wouldn’t be long before the guards counted him as missing. Glacier Lake, he had learned thru whispered conversations with his fellow prisoners, was approximately three miles away, but to reach it, a person had to travel through some rough and rocky wilderness. Unlike the previous attempts of others, Joe had an advantage, the chains on his leg and arm irons had been severed which gave him the freedom and ability to run as far and as fast as he could. He believed it would make the difference.

Joe pushed himself hard, often stumbling and tripping, but racing at a top speed, which could only be achieved by a young twenty-two year old in great physical shape. He refused to look backwards. An hour later he emerged out of the low-lying brush and stumbled towards a small river inlet that, if followed long enough, would lead to the main body of the Lake. Without hesitation he waded straight into the water and traversed a bed of slippery mossy rocks until reaching a dense patch of shrubbery that grew along the right side of the river; the height of the stalks stood so tall a man could easily seclude himself from sight. It was where Joe decided to make his stand. If he were to succeed now, he would need to turn the tables from being the hunted, to the one who hunted. If he were fortunate, he would also obtain a badly needed weapon. Joe was not surprised to see that it was the superiorly arrogant Deputy Hatch who trailed him down to this river.

Picking up Joe’s trail easily at the spot where he had entered the water, Hatch smiled to himself and shook his head. Cartwright was good. He’d give him that. No other prisoner had made it this far but Hatch almost wished Cartwright had used a bit more creativity; this was going to be too easy. It was rare that his prey made the sport challenging enough to excite him. Too often these chases were little more than a short break from the boring daily grind at camp.

Cautiously, but confidently, Hatch headed downstream, walking alongside the riverbank. It did not matter to him that he could not visually see Joe. From up on the hill came the sound of barking dogs. Once the canines were let loose it would be only a measure of time before the escapee was flushed from hiding. But not too soon he hoped, first, he wanted a piece of Cartwright for himself. Joe too, heard the dogs but hoped that the doubling back he had done on his tracks would confuse the dogs enough to gain him a few precious minutes. His brother, Hoss, had taught him the old Indian trick and Joe, over the years, had perfected his skill. Joe’s breath tightened as Hatch came within a few feet of his hiding place. When the chance came, he did not hesitate, he reached out and looped his forearm tight around Hatch’s neck, pulling the Deputy back against his body increasing the choking pressure. Momentarily caught off guard Hatch’s natural reflex was to strike out and he did this by thrusting the butt of the rifle he carried backwards.

Due to the closeness of their bodies Joe was unable to dodge far enough out of the way and the solid instrument bit hard into his stomach knocking the wind from his lungs and his grip loosened slightly. Before he could readjust, Hatch delivered a second hard jab and this time managed to slip his head out of Joe’s neck hold altogether. While Hatch fought to turn and position the rifle, Joe delivered a double handed punch that sent Hatch to the ground then leapt forward pinning him down.

They fought hard knowing there would be only one winner. Joe, hindered by the weight of the iron cuffs and dangling chains, could not deliver the strength of fist that he wanted. Hatch used the length of the rifle to wedge space between them until he was able to roll Joe off him and pull himself upright enough to separate their bodies. In a hurried cowardly fashion, Hatch managed to pull the trigger of the carbine rifle. At such close range the forty-four caliber metallic round easily pierced deep into Joe’s flesh, ripping a path through hardened muscle, tendons and soft tissue. The sound of gunfire echoed loudly, the impact slamming Joe into the hard ground, his back thrown against rough stones as his hand grasped for the flaming injury. Hatch now satisfied that Joe could not retaliate looked up to the hills waiting for the dogs that would come and finish the job. Hatch’s eyes were filled with hatred at Joe for taking away the dignity of his authority. He rejoiced knowing that the sound of the echoing gunshot would be spreading fear and despair throughout the prisoners of the camp. Hatch could not wait until this man’s body was back at the camp as a souvenir. The body would serve as an example stamping out any further thought of misconduct by the prisoners. There would not be another attempted escape for a long time and Hatch’s position of authority would be greatly feared.

After the initial mind-crushing wave of pain settled, Joe opened his eyes to see Hatch glaring down at him and he began to realize that the wound itself had not been mortal, but then something other than the pain began to burn within him. The fiery hot New Orleans temper that his family so often tangled with flamed anew. Joe knew, as long as he could still move, he would continue to fight, not only for his life but also for the lives of his family. His personal comfort would have to wait. Summoning his strength, Joe lunged forward grabbing Hatch around the legs and tackling him down to the ground. In one more round they fought, Joe finally wrestling the rifle from Hatch. It was now Hatch who waited to see if Joe would fire a bullet into him. But Joe had other ideas. Killing Hatch would serve no great purpose. He could hear the dogs getting closer. In a last minute inspired thought, he commanded Hatch to trade shirts with him.

If the guard dogs wanted his scent, he would be happy to give it to them. Only later would it be discovered that the dogs had followed it to the wrong man. After the exchange Joe gave Hatch a choice. He could start running, being given the same chance that Joe had, or Joe would kill him right then and there. The large hounds had been trained for only one thing; to hunt and track the scent of prison escapees. None of the previous escapees had ever survived the dogs’ killer attacks. Hatch took the only option open to him. He ran.

Now with the dogs occupied, Joe did the unexpected, he turned to race back uphill through the same rough and hazardous terrain he had descended just an hour and a half earlier to return to the face of the enemy, praying he would make it back to the camp in time. Desperation drove Joe onward fearful that once the Judge learned of his escape and the probable death of his Deputy Hatch, he would begin extracting revenge on Joe’s family. It would not matter to the Judge that it was his own dogs that had turned on Hatch.

Joe refused to let his mind acknowledge the piercing pain that coursed through his body, a result of Hatch’s bullet lodged deep inside his lower left shoulder. Ribbons of radiating agony spread throughout his chest and up into his shoulder blade making it difficult to move his left arm. With each quickened pulse of his heartbeat, blood slipped from the open wound and penetrated deep into the cotton fibers of the shirt he now wore. The shirt did little for him except offer some protection against the rays of the burning sun. The combination of the scorching heat and the major exertion he was producing covered Joe’s slim well-muscled torso with heavy sweat. The rich red blood mingled with the perspiration of his body and plastered the shirt to his lean frame. With his sleeve, he wiped away the droplets of moisture that dripped down into his eyes obscuring his vision.

Instinctively he knew he was closing in on his destination. Even though the Cartwright family had spent little time in this part of the country, Joe’s sense of direction was a finely honed asset derived from many years of riding through miles of dense wilderness and open ranges. The landscape he was now traversing felt oddly familiar and the next bend he rounded took him directly into an empty mining field. He gave himself a moment to lean his back up against a tree trunk, desperate to catch his breath while he observed the empty site. For the past two days Joe and his family had been forced to work in this section of the gold mining camp. The multi-level site seemed strangely quiet abandoned of all workers and their guards. Just a few hours earlier, this sector of the camp had been filled with nearly every prisoner bent deep into hard labor; wielding a pickaxe or shoveling deep into the mounds of earth. Watched over by teams of appointed guards, they had mined for the Judge’s elusive gold. Joe walked alongside the iron tracks that had been laid across the hard gravel ground; used to glide the heavy mining carts as they carried away tons of unusable rock and ore. A few yards later he crossed the tracks near the spot where a cart’s heavy wheels had rolled across his leg and arm chains splitting them apart, allowing his escape. Joe kept himself low, dodging between various large pieces of mining equipment and great piles of granite stones, keeping alert for scouts that might be hidden up among the dirt ridges and thinning trees but could detect nothing suspicious. The muffled sound of voices came from up near the main camp but it was still several minutes before Joe actually saw the outline of the tattered, makeshift open shelter where he had spent the last couple of cold, sleepless nights. Stealthily he entered the camp, still wary that his progress may be impeded.

As he edged up behind an enclosed circle of outraged prisoners it became instantly clear why his entrance had gone unopposed. The inmates had been forced to stand and watch by well-armed guards as an innocent cowhand had been pulled from their ranks and viciously sentenced to an exhibition of punishment by order of the Judge. One of the Judge’s henchmen was preparing to make an example of this inmate. That prisoner was seconds from execution!

The rifle that had seemed so heavy and cumbersome just moments ago now seemed weightless with purpose. Without a moment’s hesitation, he leveled and cocked the rifle with deadly aim. The clarity of Joe’s voice rang loud and clear, commanding the guard to drop his weapon. A collective gasp rose from the group at Joe’s unexpected materialization and a parting of the crowd gave him direct aim at his target.

Joe’s interruption caused the guard to hesitate. The sudden appearance of an escaped prisoner, believed dead, apparently stunned the guard. The element of surprise had given him an edge, but it was the grim determination and set of Joe’s jaw that made the guard realize this was no ghost and his intent unmistakable. Even if one of the other positioned guards managed to take Joe down, the executioner was not fool enough to believe he had a chance against Joe’s bullet. The revolver rolled from the guard’s fingers and it dropped to hard rocky ground with a thud. Joe made a motion with the tip of the rifle barrel and the guard responded by slowly raising his arms upwards in a show of surrender. The gathered group of prisoners then added their own element of surprise. While the remaining guards tried to comprehend what had just happened, the chained prisoners broke rank and rushed the officers. In a matter of minutes the prisoners had obtained the position of superior power.

With the threat of the cowboy’s execution removed, Joe exhaled. A thought flashed through his mind and he reeled, he had almost been too late. What if that had been his Pa or one of his brothers? Suddenly he desperately needed to know where his family was. He lowered the tip of the rifle barrel down towards the ground while still maintaining control of the stock. The area in front of him swarmed with angry chained prisoners as they rioted against the guards obtaining their weaponry and taking control of the camp. Joe scanned the mass of men searching for that one head of familiar white hair. The enraged yells and chants rising from the men was deafening but one unmistakable deep baritone voice rose above it all asking for a lawful takeover. For the first time since Joe had started running he felt safe, his Pa was taking command. Ben Cartwright was one of the few men whose leadership would help restore order and justice for this assemblage. He would not condone the prisoners taking the law into their own hands, no matter how warranted the circumstances.

On the far side of the crowd, Joe also spotted a familiar tall white hat. A very faint smile crossed his facial features. If there were someone who wouldn’t listen to the reasoning of his Pa, his big brother, Hoss, would be sure to help, knocking their heads together until they saw sense.

Adam, his oldest brother, although not yet glimpsed by Joe, had observed the triumphant return from a spot just a few feet away off to the side. Still shackled in leg and arm irons, Adam took advantage of the freedom to move under his own command and came up from behind to stand on Joe’s right side. The familiar touch of a hand across the back of his shoulders and the soft deep voice left no doubt as to the man’s identity and Joe felt calmer knowing his whole family still survived.

“Only my little brother could make such a theatrical entrance.” Adam welcomed him warmly. Joe angled his head to look over his right shoulder; his breath still labored, and acknowledged Adam with a nod.

“I don’t mind telling you kid, hearing that gunfire earlier had us a bit worried.”

At the reassuring presence of his older brother, Joe began to feel the heavy weight of responsibility slipping away. Only two days ago his family had been framed and sentenced unjustly; which had led them to make a decision to challenge some incredible odds. It was a dangerous risk to all of them but one they knew had to be taken. The alternative was unacceptable. In that instant of Joe’s return, the fate of many lives had drastically changed. The gamble had paid off and they had made a difference. Joe’s face was filthy and streaked with dirt and sweat, but through the lines of heavy exhaustion his eyes glowed bright with victory.

“We did it Adam. They’re really free.” Joe slowly breathed the words. He was having trouble getting enough air into his lungs now that his adrenaline was slowing down.

“Yes . . . we’re all free now.” Adam agreed, his thought encompassed with a touch of bitterness. His vision took in the field of men that filled the camp knowing that most of these innocent men had endured great suffering in order to gain back their stolen freedom.

“If you hadn’t succeeded Joe there’s no telling when the Judge’s makeshift kingdom and his twisted delusion of wealth would have been uncovered, not to mention how many more lives may have been lost.” A small trigger of concern was rising through Adam’s consciousness as his open palm registered extremely warm heat radiating from Joe’s shoulder.

Joe’s biggest fear had been what the Judge would do to his family after he was discovered missing. He knew that even if his family survived the punishment for helping a prisoner escape, they would have been subjected to this harsh and cruel world of the Judge’s making for a long time. Family had always been Joe’s anchor and they were the reasons that had driven him to push himself, overriding the pain of his own body never stopping until he knew they were safe. But it had cost him. The life energy inside Joe was ebbing away. “Adam you can go on . . . and take them all. . . home now.”

Joe’s omission of himself in the softly spoken sentence was not lost on Adam. Having helped raise Little Joe since he was a toddler, Adam had become very astute at discerning when his brother was obscuring something and the phrasing of his words raised an eyebrow of uncertainty in Adam. The flesh under Adam’s hand was beginning to tremble. Something wasn’t right but he could not pinpoint it yet.

“Joe what’s wrong?”

There was no reason not to tell Adam the truth. Only the illogical thought that Adam would be angry with him because he got himself shot gave him pause. Memories of the long, treacherous trail drive were still fresh in his mind. The drive had taken a week longer than expected making tempers short and straining the men to their breaking points. As trail boss, Adam counted on Joe to handle a huge part of the drive’s responsibilities but there had been problems and Joe felt he always came up lacking against the impossibility high standards of expected perfection. This job too was flawed and Adam would criticize him for putting them all at risk. His older brother would never have let Hatch get the drop on him. Right now he did not feel strong enough to stand under the weight of crushing disapproval.

“You were right Adam, you should have been the one to make the run.” Joe reminded him of their argument earlier that day but his tone carried no trace of resentment. The two of them had heatedly debated over which one of them had the strongest chance to make the escape from the camp. Eventually Ben had stepped into the argument deciding that Joe, because of his youth and speed might be the better choice. The decision made, Adam’s deep concern for his little brother had turned him silent. Joe had called him a sore loser.

“You would not have blown it as bad as I did.” A streak of pain radiated down Joe’s left arm into his fingers. In reflex his hand opened, no longer able to clench the wooden end of the rifle butt. It dropped into a patch of weedy grass at his feet.

A second later, another deeper flare of pain flashed through Joe’s chest and he grabbed for the edge of a nearby table. “Adam, I’m sorry.” Joe’s knees began to buckle under him, the muscles in his legs refusing to let him stand a moment longer. Joe began sagging towards the ground. Adam quickly reached out his arm to catch Joe around the waist as he fell forward. Wrapping his arms as tight as he could around Joe, Adam silently cursed the length of chain that restricted his ability of movement. He pulled Joe’s body close to his chest to keep him upright. Still unable to see Joe’s face, Adam tilted Joe’s head back up against his left shoulder. With the muscle cords of Joe’s neck stretched taunt, rivulets of sweat began to gather in the hollow of his throat. His skin tone seemed devoid of color despite his golden-brown summer tan.

It was then for the first time that Adam saw the front of the unfamiliar shirt Joe wore. The left side panel of the cotton material stained with blood filled Adam’s senses with alarm.

Because of the restrictive chains, Adam was afraid he was going to lose his grip on his unconscious brother. Adam glanced about for a minute and called out to one of the nearest men he knew for help.

Hearing his name, a sandy haired sturdy built man, about Adam’s age, turned around and saw Joe’s slumped frame being held up in Adam’s arms. Reed hurried over to assist. “Adam, what’s wrong with Joe?”

“Looks like he got himself shot, help me with him Reed. Let’s get him over to the blankets.”

Together they lifted and carried Joe over to a spot beneath the shelter’s torn canvas top. With his foot Adam kicked together a nest of the men’s scattered, worn tattered blankets, onto which they laid Joe.

“How bad you think it is Adam?” Reed asked as he took in Joe’s very pale features. He had just started to get to know the Cartwrights and had found them extremely likeable. Reed felt saddened for the young man especially after all that Joe had risked for them.

“I don’t know yet.” Adam responded, keeping his own deep anxiety locked down. He began unbuttoning the front of Joe’s shirt but found he was obstructed when he tried to pull the fabric aside to get to the actual wound. While the wound itself was still seeping fresh blood, the excessive heat of the sun had adhered patches of Joe’s blood stained garment to his chest. Adam decided instead to just widen the hole in the shirt where the bullet had entered by ripping the fabric apart. It was very apparent from the black powder burns that surrounded the wound area; Joe had been shot at very close range. The wound was deep and angry looking. Joe had never had a chance to stop and try to clot the blood. Adam pulled a kerchief from his back pocket. It wasn’t much but it was all he had at the moment that was halfway clean. He did not dare use one of the blankets under his feet as they were so filled with dust and debris.

“Reed, you’ve got to go and find my father and Hoss. Also get a canteen.”

“Sure thing Adam, I’ll find ‘em!” Reed reassured the tall authoritative man in black; glad of an opportunity to do something to aide.

“Hang on Joe. We’re going to get you help.” Adam began talking gently to the unresponsive figure urging him to gather his strength and to hold on for just a little longer. Adam gently brushed some of the flecks of dirt from Joe’s cheek. The skin beneath his fingers felt very warm. Adam could not tell yet if it was a result of the sun or from the start of a rising fever.

A sense of guilt made Adam lower his head and close his eyes momentarily. Joe had done the impossible for them. He had not only escaped once, but twice and now was the hero for an entire camp. He did not deserve to suffer like this. Adam recalled how Joe had apologized for messing up the job.

“No Joe,” Adam whispered, his heart full of concern “you did not mess up little brother. Nobody could have pulled off what you did, not even me. I’m proud of you Joe. You need to know that. You were the right man for the job. I would give anything if this didn’t happen to you. Joe, you’ve got to stay with me now. We’re going home Joe, ALL of us.” The thin small square kerchief was already saturated beneath Adam’s left hand and the crimson fluid spread between his outstretched fingers. He firmly pushed the cloth down harder, increasing the pressure on the cloth with the heel of his hand, as if the action would seal it. Adam brushed back a wayward strand of curly brown hair from Joe’s forehead while watching the tanned face carefully for a sign of movement.

As Joe lay so very still, Adam looked at his very youthful features and could not help but recall an earlier memory of a small five-year-old boy with a very disarming grin; certainly not the image of the young man who had just proved his ability to overturn an entire prison camp.

Even as Joe had matured, his facial features had retained a boyish quality to them. He had been the only one, out of the four of them that did not now desperately need a shave. After two days of living in extremely primitive conditions, one of the things Adam desired to get a hold of was the straight edge razor he had packed away in his saddlebag. Two to three days was about all he could stand of the stubble growth before he removed it, even when out on the trail. Joe usually teased his New England born brother about his overly particular grooming habits while rejoicing that he himself did not have to be hampered by such a routine.

“You’ve grown into manhood kid when I wasn’t even looking. Adam’s throat constricted with emotion.

Although Adam saw no physical movement, he sensed Joe cradle his cheek deeper into Adam’s open palm.

Two large shadows cast themselves over the prone Cartwright son, their height blocking the day’s remaining sun.

“Joseph.” a hoarse whisper came from the elder Cartwright as he knelt down opposite Adam and reached out to touch his youngest son’s face. When Reed had told him Joe had been shot, Ben had trouble believing it. Ben looked up and across into Adam’s dark brown eyes trying to absorb the reality of what had happened to Joe. Adam wanted to say something to reassure his father but his own uncertainty held him back.

“It looks bad Adam.” Hoss knelt down beside Ben, deep frown lines creasing his forehead at the state of his younger brother.

Adam nodded not wanting to confirm his own fears. “Between the blood loss and the abuse he put his body though, he’s worn out.”

“Hard to believe he coulda climbed that mountain hurtin’ like this.” Hoss puzzled.

“I knew in my heart something was wrong when we heard that rifle fire about two hours ago.” Ben admitted. “But what I don’t understand, is that when Joe came back to the camp, he looked fine. Everyone saw him standing tall and strong with his hands very steady on that rifle.”

“He definitely wanted it to appear that way, using every ounce of determination in his being to make sure we got free. Holding that rifle in front of him blurred the wound; no one ever saw the weakness. I was closer to him than you were and I didn’t even know there was something wrong until he collapsed in my arms. Right before that he apologized for messing up.”

“What did he mean – messin’ up?” Hoss questioned. “He got back here in time to save that wrangler and git us free.”

“I think he blames himself for letting Hatch get too close and not being able to defend himself enough against an assault.” Adam tried to clarify Joe’s reasoning to his brother knowing he would never be able to properly explain it, as he himself could hardly make sense of it.

“That’s plumb crazy thinkin’ Adam. But it shore does look like Joe tried hard to fight off that Hatch fellow.” Hoss replied looking at the bruising that wrapped around Joe’s jaw line and the swelling that appeared just above his left eye.

As Ben observed his motionless son, his heart twisted hearing how Joe blamed himself. If there was blame, it fell upon his own shoulders. It was a father’s job to protect his sons and instead it was he himself who had given approval to send Joe straight into the heart of danger. Knowing logically there had been no other choice did not lessen the guilt that consumed Ben. When Ben had heard the gunfire earlier a deep chill had spread through him that he could not explain and now that chill was back. With medical attention so far out of their reach, it seemed a cruel joke that his son should be returned to him only to have to fail him again. He bowed his head praying for an answer.

“Hoss, is Dawson really the nearest town from here?” Adam inquired knowing his brother trailed this way more times than any of them and could offer the best perspective.

“Yeah, that’s why the Judge was sendin’ the guard, Sims, there to git supplies. Ain’t no other place closer. It’s about a two-day ride, one if’n you pushed really hard on a good horse. But it’s purty rough country to cross to get there. I’ve only been a couple times ‘cos it’s in the opposite direction of the Ponderosa.”

“Is there a doctor there?” Ben asked, willing to go wherever he needed to get help for his son.

“It’s a small town but there might be.” Hoss tried to recall the times he had traveled through there. “I know there’s a sheriff. Met him once, seemed pleasant enough. But there’s a young fellow here at camp, said he lived up near Dawson. We can ask him.”

Hoss noticed Reed hurrying towards them with a canteen in his hands.

“Mr. Cartwright,” Reed reluctantly cut in as he handed the canteen off to Adam. “I’m sorry to interrupt but there’s something you should know.”

“What is it Reed?” Ben asked, hardly interested in anything now other than his son’s welfare.

“Farley has got himself a gun and he’s gone after the Judge, swears he’s going to kill him. A couple of us tried to stop him but you’re the only one that he might listen to. He’ll be hanged for murder if he does.” Reed had been incarcerated into the camp shortly after Farley and his wife Sarah had been taken prisoners. Sarah had died because of the conditions here and Reed had been witness to the long years of the devastated man’s emotional turmoil.

Ben raised his head and drew a deep breath, obviously torn between the two urgencies, knowing Farley needed him as much as his son did, maybe even more at the moment.

“Pa, you want me to go with you?” Adam knew the depth of anger that Farley carried. It would not be an easy task to hold Farley back.

“No. You stay here – take care of Joe.” Ben decided.

Adam read the hesitation in his father’s eyes and hastened to reassure him. “Joe will be here when you get back.”

Ben nodded and leaned over to kiss Joe on the forehead. “Hang on son, we’re going to take care of you now.”

As Ben readied himself to go, Reed told Hoss several of the men were getting together some tools to disassemble the iron cuffs. “If you go over there they’ll help you.”

“Thanks Reed.” Hoss said appreciatively.

Reed nodded and turned, waiting for Ben to follow, and together they headed quickly out to the area where Farley was last seen.

Adam knew if his promise to his father was to be kept they had to start taking more significant action. “Hoss, I need you to go see if you can scrounge up some kind of first aid supplies. There might be some stuff we can use in one of the tents over there.”

Hoss hesitated looked down at the chains still linking his hands together. “Adam, much as I got a hankerin’ to git out of these ugly clinking chains, I’d live with ‘em another week if’n it would help our little brother get better.”

“I know you would Hoss.” Adam sympathized. “But it would be best if you had one of the men get yours off. It will make walking and carrying stuff easier and faster and you can help Joe and me with ours when you get back.”

Like Ben, Hoss was reluctant to leave Joe’s side but knew his sibling needed more than just handholding. Hoss softly laid a hand atop Joe’s unruly curls. “I’ll hurry Adam.”

Adam began to notice that the blood coming from the wound was not pushing up as hard as it had been earlier against his hand. He was glad to see the discharge was becoming minimal but did not yet want to chance removing his hand from the clotting area.

Tucking the canteen Reed had handed him between his knees, Adam pulled the stopper out and then tipped the canteen to allow some of the water to flow out onto his cupped right palm. He gently dripped the water down onto Joe’s flushed face. The water was not very cold, but it was wet. With his hand, he gently massaged the moisture into Joe’s cheeks and forehead and down around the base of Joe’s neck. Again he repeated the movements until he saw the cracked lips begin to soften up.

“Come on Joe, if you wake up, you can have a real drink of water.” Adam encouraged his brother. “I know you’ve got to be running on empty kid.”

* * *

Chapter 2 (Monday)

Monday – 5:00 pm – Keys To Freedom

Hoss walked over to join a group of men that had set up a small work area for the sole purpose of helping each other break free of the insufferable shackles. Various equipment and tools had been gathered from around the mining camp in order to accomplish this. Among those assembled was a man of powerful physique who offered the force needed to pound out the iron pins that kept the heavy manacles locked together. Dean had already broken open several of the men’s cuffs and a pile of discarded irons grew on the ground alongside him. Hoss had begun to know a bit about Dean when the guards had assigned the two of them to work together down in the rock quarry, believing that the combined muscle strength of the two biggest men would get the job done quickly.

“Dean, ya got any energy left in those brawny arms of yours?” Hoss called out to his friend.

In response, the pin Dean was hammering on came flying out and shot straight up into the air with one final swing of his hammer.

“Hoss!” Dean looked up surprised but pleased to see the familiar face. “I just heard about Joe. I’m really sorry. Don’t know how he managed it, but we sure owe him, if there’s anything we can do.”

“Thanks Dean. I appreciate that. Right now I just need ya to git me out of these darn fool things.” Hoss held his hands up slightly. “I gotta go searching for some supplies that’ll help Adam stop Joe’s bleedin’ and I can do it a mite easier if’n I didn’t have these here restrictions.”

“You just set that foot up on this rock and we’ll get you done.” Dean promised. None of the waiting men objected to Hoss moving up in line.

While Dean hammered away at the hard black metal, Charlie, a small wiry little fellow about half the size of Hoss came up to offer his services. Hoss had earlier guessed that the man had to be near sixty. Charlie’s history at the camp began almost twelve months ago. Too small and old to do much labor work, the guards had used him more as an errand boy, fetching water, washing clothes, feeding fires, etc. He had never been chained like the rest of the men, having more freedom to move about through camp and into the officer’s tents and had a fairly good idea where most of the supplies were kept.

Ten minutes later the last iron bracelet fell from Hoss’ wrist. Dean waved off Hoss’ thanks and promised him he would personally go over to help Adam and Joe next.

Charlie explained to Hoss that there was very little of interest he would find inside the tents and instead had Hoss follow him up a sharp little path on the back hillside that led to the Judge’s small log cabin.

The log cabin had been built about four years ago when the Judge began taking in the first of his prisoners. Once the Judge established no one was going to interfere with his free labor enterprise way out here in the wilderness, he began channeling some of that disposable energy into designing and building a cabin for himself.

Hoss and Charlie approached the cabin and climbed the two stone steps that took them up onto the middle of a wide-planked front porch. Just in front of them a sturdy re-enforced front door beckoned. On either side of the front door two large glass windows had been installed. Charlie did not hesitate; he just pushed open the unlocked door to enter the cabin. Crossing the threshold behind Charlie, Hoss immediately took note of the cabin’s well-constructed interior. Its chinked walls appeared snug and in good condition and the sunshine that streamed in from the two front windows flooded the cabin with light. The cabin was not overly large but it was serviceable. Directly in front of the two men sat a large rectangular table placed horizontally and it stood atop a large circular blue rag rug. Six ladder-back chairs were stationed around the table. This table was the only separation between the open kitchen and the front room. The large space on the left side of the room housed one fabric-covered chair and one rocking chair placed in front of a fireplace; it’s hearth now cold. Underneath the front room window a desk had been placed, the top of which held a few scattered papers and a ledger as well as a writing set that included an inkwell and blotter. The window above the desk allowed a complete view of the men’s campsite below.

On the backside of the living space was an open doorway. Hoss walked over to the doorframe and glanced into the back room. A double-sized bed was centered in the middle of the bedroom floor and to the right side was a nightstand topped with a kerosene lamp. Following on along the right-hand wall was a washstand with an attached oval mirror. Its top shelf housed a white ceramic washbowl and on the insert below, sat a matching water pitcher. An extra large rectangular blanket chest filled the front corner, its lid littered with books and clothing. On the opposite side of the room a single four-drawer pine dresser claimed space.

Hoss visually surveyed the space but did not enter the room. Instead he turned and crossed the length of the floorboards to the kitchen area taking note of the black wood burning stove built into the farthest back wall, its tall telescoping pipe stretching up and through a hole up the low ceiling. Next to the stove a fairly tall three-shelf hutch sat atop a two-door cabinet, the topmost of the hutch’s narrow shelves was neatly stocked with various canned and boxed food supplies. A second shelf held dishes, glassware and bowls and on the lowest shelf an assortment of vintage liquor and wine bottles; several brands that Hoss recognized as of fine quality. Finally underneath the kitchen window a sink had been built. There was no indoor pump, as no well had been dug outside, but the sunken stone basin had a small hole cut out in the corner into which the water would drain into a container below. The large window provided the same view of the men’s camp below.

“Looks like the Judge was able to keep tabs on all the camp doin’s from any part of this cabin.” Hoss surmised.

Charlie opened one of the cabinet doors, as Hoss finished looking around, and slid out a slatted wooden crate setting it down on top of the cabinet.

“Hoss I want to show you something.” Charlie pulled a black leather bag from the wooden box, which he handed over to Hoss. The bag was near the same size and type that the Cartwright’s doctor in Virginia City owned. Opening the bag, Hoss took note of the steel medical instruments and supplies laying inside, exactly like those he had too often seen Dr. Martin use including a couple of scalpels, long handled forceps and a stethoscope. Hoss felt a shiver of queasiness come over him thinking of how they might be needed for his little brother.

“How come the Judge has all this?” Hoss’ forehead wrinkled in perplexity.

“Judge bought this whole parcel of doctor stuff off a traveling peddler one day.” Charlie explained the origin of the bag to Hoss as he showed him several other medical supplies in the box including several boxes of packaged cotton rolls and clean, white dressing wraps. A variety of additional medicine bottles and ointments also claimed space in the box, a few of which his father would probably call snake oil, but a couple of containers were the same type that they had at home on the Ponderosa.

“Peddler told the Judge he might need some of this stuff if one of his workers got hurt as we’re so far away from a township. Judge just laughed, said if the worker was hurt that bad, he’d just shoot him. Frankly, I think that peddler was lucky to get out of this area before the Judge slapped chains on him and put him to work. After that Judge just mainly used the bandages and ointment stuff for the guards and himself.”

“Well it’s a purty nice set-up for a man runnin’ a slave camp.”

“I guess you can buy nice things when you’ve got free labor digging up gold dust for ya.”

“You’re right Charlie. But there’s a lot of things in here that the group can use now.” Hoss gave the cabin another cursory look, it would definitely do. “I’m gonna go git Adam and we’ll bring Joe up to this cabin. Charlie, can you start up a fire in that stove? We’ll need hot water and some extra basins. Also you think ya can find some sheets and rip ‘em up into strips for me?”

“Sure Hoss. I’ll get the water heating right now. There’s plenty of wood next to the stove and a bigger woodpile out back.”

Hoss walked straight back down the path and across the dirt compound to return to the open shelter and knelt down again by his brother’s side to describe his findings.

“Adam, I got us the perfect spot to git Joe out of the sun. Ya know the cabin the Judge was usin’, well it’s got a bed with clean blankets and everything.” Hoss pointed up the hill at the pine timbered structure. “Charlie’s gettin’ things goin’ for us.”

“That sounds fine Hoss.” Adam agreed. “Judge won’t be needing the cabin tonight. We’ll move Joe over there but I just need to check something first.” Adam slowly lifted his left hand releasing the pressure he had been applying to the wound; the underside of his hand came away thickly coated with a layer of sticky red substance. The neckerchief that Adam had used to help staunch the blood’s escape was now wedged partially into the wound. Adam did not remove it afraid the crusted clotting that had formed would break open. He seemed satisfied that the congealed wound was fairly safe to leave alone for now. Adam wiped the excess blood from his hand on the front of Joe’s already bloodied shirt.

Hoss gently lifted Joe’s bootless left ankle into his hand examining the dark pink ring of gouged flesh just above the rim of Joe’s sock. “Did it bother Joe – havin’ Dean hammerin’ those chains off’a him?”

“No I don’t think Joe felt a thing, he didn’t even flinch.” Adam assured Hoss. “Dean tried to go pretty easy with him. He said we were lucky we’d only been in these cuffs a couple days. Our sores should heal up fine but he saw others today that looked pretty nasty.”

“Adam that just don’t seem right, having a body finally git free of this place only to have something like that to deal with.”

“Well we’ll see what a doctor has to say, but I don’t think it’s the physical injuries, as much as the mental ones, that are going to leave the worst scars.” Adam put forward. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll carry him.” Hoss offered.

“You sure? It’s a bit of a walk up that trail.”

“Heck, he don’t weigh nothin’, especially on the rations they bin feedin’ us the last two days.” Hoss slipped one strong arm under Joe’s shoulders and another under his knees and cradled him easily. As he stood, Joe’s head lolled against his brother’s thick shoulder.

Adam scooped down to pick up Hatch’s rifle, the canteen and Joe’s boots and followed Hoss out of the shelter.

As they skirted the edge of the camp, Adam could feel the eyes of the milling crowd of men looking towards them, following their movements as if waiting for something. Word about Joe’s injury had spread and the men were currently giving the Cartwrights the space they needed to deal with their troubles but now that the first wave of exhilaration was dying down, Adam felt the underlying restlessness and bewilderment that came with the men’s newfound freedom. With a flash of realization, he understood what the men were waiting for.

“Hoss, have you noticed that most of the men seem to be watching us?” Adam asked in a hushed undertone.

“Yeah, they were doin’ that earlier when I was out here searchin’ around with Charlie. Thought they were just kinda curious what happened with Joe.”

“I think it’s more than that. You remember yesterday when you fought that guard and beat him. Remember how the men refused their dinner? It was because they really respected you Hoss. You gave them a sense of hope. No one had given them that in a very long time.”

“I remember Adam.”

“Well I think they are feeling the same way again about what Joe did for them. And I think because of that respect they are now looking to us to lead them out of here.”

“But Adam how’s that possible, we gotta help Little Joe.”

“I know Hoss we’ll just have to give it some thought.”

* * * * *

Reaching the cabin, they went directly to the bedroom where Hoss laid their brother down on top of the blanketed bed, his form sinking slightly into the pliable mattress. When a down filled pillow found its place under his head, Joe emitted a small moan giving them the first sign of consciousness they had seen since his collapse.

Charlie came out of the back kitchen area to acknowledge the Cartwrights.

“Water’s almost hot.” Charlie informed them. “Anything special you need me to do?”

“I’d like a bowl and a glass both full of cold water and a washcloth.” Adam answered as he laid the rifle and the canteen down on top of the dresser.

“The water in the rain barrel outside is the coldest, I’ll get some for you.” Charlie informed them as he exited the cabin.

Spotting the small wooden washstand across the room Adam walked over to it and pulled the plain white ceramic pitcher from the lower shelf. It still held some old standing water and he poured a bit of it into it’s matching basin, just enough to get his hands wet, then picked up a nearby bar of milled soap and cleansed the remnants of the blood stains from his left hand and looked ruefully for the first time at the red marks that encircled his wrists. The water became tinged with red as he rinsed his hands back in the bowl. After using the wrinkled linen towel on the side of the washstand to dry off, he returned to sit down on the side of the bed and placed his right palm against Joe’s moist forehead.

“Joe, it’s Adam. Can you hear me?” Adam hated to pull Joe into a state of consciousness where he would have to feel the pain at its full intensity. But the fever that was radiating from Joe’s flesh was rising and he knew they needed to get as much water into his system as quickly as they could.

“Joe, wake up now.” Adam slightly shook Joe’s good shoulder. He was answered by another slight whimper.

Hoss leaned slightly over Joe, making sure his voice penetrated into the layers of Joe’s subconscious. “Short shanks, c’mon now, you can do it. Adam and I are right here.”

Joe could hear his brother’s voices calling him. He sensed they needed him but the more he tried to pull himself through the blackness to get to them, the more the pain crushed him under.

Then with a sudden murmured cry, the back of Joe’s head pushed back into the pillow causing it to dent deeply and his legs shifted slightly as he started to come to.

“Hoss keep talking to him, he’s responding to you.” Adam encouraged.

Hoss continued coaxing until a pair of dull, lackluster eyes opened and looked up at his larger brother with recognition. Joe searched Hoss’ face convincing himself his brother’s image was real then shifted his vision to take in his brother Adam but he did not speak, it required too much effort. Joe’s facial features reflected the total misery he felt as the various pains coursing through his body assaulted him. Like Adam, Hoss felt badly that they had to awaken Joe.

Charlie re-entered the main room and handed Hoss the clean glass filled with fresh water. Adam pulled the liquid filled basin into his lap.

Placing his hand behind Joe’s head to ease him up slightly, Hoss held the glass to his lips urging him to drink. Obligingly, Joe opened his mouth and took a sip only to discover he liked the feeling of the moisture at the back of his parched throat. He greedily began to drink, almost gulping it until Hoss had to pull the glass from him afraid he was getting too much too quick. Progressively he returned the glass to Joe until he was able to drink about three quarters of the glass’ content before turning his head away, his eyes closing in misery.

“Just another sip Joe.” Hoss encouraged him.

“No more.” Joe whimpered feeling slightly ill now that the water had entered his stomach.

Adam took the washcloth that he had soaked in the basin of water and twisted out the excess liquid then wiped down Joe’s face and neck with it. He dunked the cloth again and repeated the motions. The third time, he draped the cloth across Joe’s forehead and left it there. Joe closed his eyes savoring the dampness that cooled his heated flesh.

“Where’s Pa?” Joe’s voice cracked as he tried to get the words out.

“He’s on his way, he’ll be here soon Joe.” Hoss reassured him. “Jest rest.”

Adam himself was beginning to worry about Ben who should have been here by now. The men in the camp would have told Ben where they had taken Joe. Adam was beginning to doubt his decision to let his Pa go alone to deal with Farley and the Judge. Usually a fair-minded law-abiding man his father’s thinking was undoubtedly clouded by the fact that his son was now seriously injured. That coupled with the fact that their young ranch hand, Billy, had been shot down and killed in cold blood on that first day when they had been arrested on false trespassing charges might be enough to put Ben over the boundary of civility. Ben would definitely be holding the Judge as accountable for Joe and Billie, as Farley was for his wife’s death.

The intense concern made Adam rise from the chair. He took the almost empty water bowl with him, and walked outside the cabin. He tossed the remnants of water into some nearby bushes. Adam stood on the hill looking down at the men’s camp visually noting the group of fallen guards had been banded with the same shackles previously worn by the prisoners and were being watched over by the now rifle-armed men. Adam could see no sign of Ben, Farley or the Judge. The fact that he had not yet heard a gunshot made him feel sure that Farley had reluctantly been persuaded to let the law handle the Judge. Adam knew it would be taking a lot of Ben’s finesse and wisdom to hold both Farley and himself in check. His father would head for the cabin as soon as he could.

Adam’s pacing took him around to the backside of the cabin. He was a bit surprised to discover that the hillside behind the cabin sloped downwards, creating a large hollow expanse of land below. It was an area hidden away from the camp to discourage attempted escapes. It had not even been seen from any of the windows inside the cabin. Nestled inside this abyss was a large corral made from split rail fencing which held about twelve horses of assorted breeds. Adam noted with relief that the Cartwright horses were among them. One large logging wagon sat nearby, its wagon tongue lying empty. A plan began to form in Adam’s mind, but first he had one very important task to do.

On his way back inside the cabin, Adam stopped at the rain barrel and cupped his hands full of water. He splashed it up on his face and down around the back of neck hoping to remove some of the dust and dirt. He longed for a more proper cleaning but that would be a long way off yet. Dipping the empty basin into the wooden oak rain barrel, he half filled it with fresh water. Adam re-entered the cabin stopping at the dining table where he picked up a chair by one of the ladder-back rungs and carried it into the bedroom placing it down beside the bed.

Setting the refilled basin down on the nightstand, Adam noticed Joe’s closed eyes.

“He’s just restin’ Adam, but he ain’t gone unconscious again.”

Adam took a seat in the chair and leaned slightly forward. He placed a hand on Hoss’ knee looking him straight in the eye. “Hoss,” Adam started keeping his voice low, “by now you probably already figured this out but we’re going to have to take that bullet out ourselves. Joe can’t travel with that bullet in him and we can’t wait four days for a doctor to get out here.”

“Yeah, I figgered some on that Adam, just don’t like the thought much.”

“I don’t think our little brother is going to like the thought much either but it’s the only choice we have.”

“We gonna do it right now?” Hoss asked uneasily. “Shouldn’t we wait for Pa?”

“Pa will be here but we need to get ready to do this as soon as possible. Sun’s going to be down in a couple of hours and we really need that daylight.”

Hoss nodded. “Adam, if’n that’s what we gotta do, I think there’s something ya’ll want to see out in the kitchen. I’ll show ya.”

Entering the kitchen they were greeted by the warmth and steam that rose from the two iron pots that sat heating on the back of the wood burning stove.

Adam was as surprised as Hoss had been at the amount of medical supplies the Judge had on hand. Adam opened the medical bag and took out some of the steel instruments, feeling the weight of them in his hand. The decision made in his mind, Adam walked up to one of the pots and dropped the steel tools into the boiling water. “Just let those boil for about fifteen minutes Charlie.”

Adam then began taking full note of everything else the kitchen had to offer. He pulled a small chinaware bowl with a blue design imprinted on it off the shelf and filled it with some boiling water, then took the bowl to the sink. As he swirled the hot water around inside the bowl to coat the interior, he asked Hoss to break the seal on one of the bottles of whiskey and then he released the water out of the bowl into the sink.

Setting the now empty bowl down on the counter top, Adam took the whiskey bottle from Hoss and began pouring it freely into the bowl until it was about a quarter full.

“Charlie, when those tools are done boiling, pour just the water out of that pot being careful not to touch the tools themselves. Then dump the tools into this bowl of alcohol.” Adam instructed. “Also I noticed there were some larger cloths out on the table where you were ripping up the sheets. When you get a chance, I’m also going to need some more of those cloths cut up into smaller pieces.”

“There’s more linen in storage.” Charlie offered. “Judge kept a lot of supplies out there.”

“How about food provisions?”

“Oh yeah, all kinds of stuff, like sacks of potatoes and coffee and flour. As you know, Judge wasn’t real generous at handin’ out the food rations, just kinda stockpiled the stuff.”

“Charlie, did you do all the cooking for the men up here?” Adam asked as he pulled another deep bowl from the shelf filling it with more hot water.

“Some of it. Don’t take much cookin’ though to heat up a plate of beans. Did most of that down over the fire pits at the camp.”

“Well it’s getting near dinner time tonight and I’d like you to start thinking about cooking up a real meal for the men. You can use any of the supplies and foodstuffs you know about here in this camp, something that will give them some energy and stick to their ribs. As soon as we get Joe settled, I’ll bring up a couple of extra men to help you.”

“That sounds real fine Mr. Adam, real fine.” Charlie’s eyes lit up. “You know I used to be a chuck wagon cook. It’ll be nice to put together a couple of the old recipes again. Been a long time. I’ll go get you some more of those cloths now.”

Returning to the bedroom, Adam moved the cold water basin to the back of the nightstand to make room for the additional bowl of hot water he had brought from the kitchen.

“Hoss, go ahead and get those filthy, muddy, pants of Joe’s off. As soon as Charlie brings me the cloths, I’ll use them to soften the dried blood and get the shirt and kerchief out of the way so that I can flush the wound a bit.”

Hoss acknowledged the request but looked hopefully towards the doorway, knowing their father’s anticipated presence would go a long way in helping to stem the restlessness that Joe was trying hard to conceal.

Adam took the stack of cut toweling that Charlie offered and placed three of them into the warm water to soak; then leaned over towards the bed and explained to Joe how he was going to clean the wound.

Joe responded with a nod of his head but he did not open his eyes, the drawn lines of his face indicating that all of his energies were concentrated on just withstanding the battering pain.

Hoss, having removed Joe’s belt and lower clothing, eased the covers and top sheet down from underneath him and then looped them back up to cover him to the waist.

Adam wrung out the warm wet towel pieces and placed them flat covering a large section of Joe’s upper left torso and shoulder. Joe took a heavy breath but did not move as the warmth seeped down and beneath the darkened kerchief fabric winding its way into the gashed flesh.

Adam rotated out the hot toweling until eventually the stiff, crusted adhesions holding the shirt and skin together were broken and large portions of fabric finally skidded free across the plain of Joe’s flat chest. Adam took hold of one corner of the sodden kerchief, lifting and prying it gently upwards while the squishing pressure immediately sent small watery ribbons trailing off in all directions. Joe’s breath hissed as his brother used a bit more force to pull on the slightly wedged cloth, finally breaking it’s connection to the torn skin. As a result, some fragmentation of the coagulated blood occurred but not as much as Adam originally feared.

“You’re okay Joe.” Adam reassured his brother giving him some time to rest. “I’m just going to get this shirt off you. Standing he reached to bend Joe’s right elbow so his arm could be slipped out of that sleeve. Then without raising him up, he slid his hand beneath Joe and worked the shirt back through to the left side. After gently pulling the rest of the damp fabric from Joe’s chest, he plucked the few loose shirt threads from the wound that had ripped loose when the initial bullet struck. With the chest uncovered, Adam could now see the full evidence of Joe’s struggle with the deputy.

“Looks like he did some heavy fightin’ with that Hatch fellow.” Hoss commented on the large bruises, already beginning to look purple, that covered a great deal of Joe’s rippled abdomen.

“I’m willing to wager that Hatch didn’t look too good either after Joe got done with him.” Adam recalled a couple of his own past quarrels with Joe that had led him to be on the receiving end of his brother’s famous double punches. Adam dipped the cloths back again into a fresh bowl of steaming water that Charlie provided.

Adam continued to gently wipe away dirt, dust and dried blood from Joe’s skin easing the rough cloth over the bruised and burned edges of skin as much as he could. When he was finished he dropped the cloth back in the basin and picked up the half empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand that he had opened earlier.

Hoss frowned knowing what his brother had in mind to do with the bottle and realized how the potent alcohol was going to affect Joe. “Adam, he ain’t gonna like that! Is that the only way?”

“Hoss, I can already see some inflammation and the wound is very deep and jagged. The best thing we can do for him is to keep the area as clean and unsoiled as much as possible.”

“But once you put that stuff on him, he’s gonna try and come off that mattress.”

“I know so it might be a good idea if you helped keep him still while I do this.”

Hoss nodded reluctantly and moved to the opposite side of the bed and sat down next to Joe. He placed one large hand on top of Joe’s right shoulder and the other he placed at Joe’s waist on the left side, hoping this would be enough to prevent Joe from turning. Hoss looked up at Adam indicating he was ready.

Joe also lifted his eyes to look up at Adam. He had heard Adam’s explanation to Hoss and had an idea of what was coming.

Adam held Joe’s glaze. “Joe, I’m sorry buddy, this is going to burn like a hot branding iron.”

“It’s okay Adam, just do it.” Joe urged his brother to get it over with.

Adam nodded and tipped the bottle gently down, keeping his angle on the bottle just a hairline below level wanting only to drizzle a small amount of the firewater into the large caliber hole.

Joe’s reaction was almost instantaneous. His head pushed back so hard that his jaw rose straight up towards the ceiling. His back arched beneath Hoss’ firm hands but he managed to silence any sound, his breath coming in fast breathless pants. The movement of his body caused the stream of whiskey to run down and across his chest, also coating the outer burned area. Adam quickly tipped the bottle back upright and grabbed a dry cloth to wipe Joe’s chest before it ran down into the linen below. It would be enough to start with.

As he passed through the doorway into the bedroom, the sight of his young son in total misery greeted Ben. In four strides, Ben was at Joe’s side, taking his son’s head and shoulders into his arms.

“Pa!” Joe managed to cry out, his eyes closing absorbing the security that held him.

Finally as the burning liquid dissipated away, Joe’s body quieted. Drained, he lay in his father’s embrace and fell into a restless doze.

“Adam, what happened?” Ben asked after laying Joe back down on the pillow.

“We had to clean the wound.” Adam explained with a calmness he hardly felt.

“But like that! He’s already suffering so much.”

“I wish there was another way but there just isn’t. The wound is already showing signs of infection and Joe’s fever is rising; that bullet has got to come out soon. I realize that you haven’t had as much time to digest this as I have, but it’s up to us to do what we can for him.”

Ben ran his hand up against his forehead and down across his face. He knew Adam spoke the truth; he just had not had enough time to think it all through. Somehow he had allowed himself to believe Joe would have help but had not fully comprehended that the only help available was his own family. They were just too far away and too isolated; no one else could reach his son in time. Like Adam had said, Joe’s life was held totally in their hands. Holding his injured son in his arms had made that perfectly clear.

Ben glanced again at Joe and made sure he was asleep then told his older sons he would like to talk to them about this in the other room. Ben crossed the living room floor to stare out the window. Ben regretted his earlier outburst. “Adam, I’m sorry son. I didn’t mean for this to fall completely on your shoulders. Calming Farley down took more time than I realized. Maybe the three of us need to talk about the reality of this situation.”

Adam came to stand beside his father, following his father’s glaze through the glass to the camp down below “Pa, those men down there, they are all going to want to leave here at first light and there is no reason why they shouldn’t be allowed to go. But they are going to need someone to guide them out of these hills and to a place where someone will listen and care about what has happened to them and the men before them for so long. Many of them are not even sure where they’ve been for the past three years, only that they’ve been in some kind of hell. It isn’t right that we ask any of them to stay here another day. When they leave here tomorrow, I believe we should be ready to go with them; all of us – including Joe.”

“It’s absurd to think that Joe will be in any condition to travel!” Ben’s voice rose again believing such an idea was ludicrous.

Adam remained un-swayed by Ben’s outburst. “He might be, if we can get that bullet out tonight.”

“Adam, that’s a huge risk.” Ben was unconvinced. “Such an unskilled operation especially in that area of the chest is just plain foolish; we don’t even know for sure that the bullet went straight in. Joe’s already exhausted from making that run and I’m not sure his body will be able to handle any more blood loss right now. Then there is the chance we’ll be opening him to additional infections.”

“Joe has a better chance of fighting off the contamination if we take the bullet out now. Even if we chose to have Joe stay here, that bullet can’t stay inside him for the next four days. It’s also a real big assumption on our part that even if there is a doctor available in Dawson that he is willing to make the trip out here. If we take Joe with us tomorrow, at least he’ll be in someone’s care in half the amount of time it would take for someone to get back here to him.”

“Adam, how you proposin’ we take Little Joe with us?” Hoss asked thinking of the prone figure back in the bed. “He’ll be real weak from us workin’ on him. How’s he supposed ta sit a horse?”

“We will have to try and find a way to make him as comfortable as possible. Look, I realize I don’t have all the details yet but it’s not like that group down there is going to be breaking any speed records out of here. I’ve seen the corral. Only a dozen horses are down there, including ours by the way, and only one wagon. With about twenty-five men in the camp plus the guards and the Judge, that means more than half of those men are going to be on foot and hardly any of them are in the best condition. I think Joe will be alright with the pace we’ll be moving.”

“I’m beginning to agree with one thing Adam.” Ben conceded. “The bullet will have to come out. I’m just doubtful about how soon that should happen. And to be truthful, I just don’t know if I have the capability to cut a bullet out of your brother.”

“I know that Pa.” Adam softened his tone understanding the emotional conflict his father was wresting with. The one thing Adam knew he had to offer his father was an unwavering strength to lean upon, something he had been doing since his early childhood. “That’s why I think it would be best if you let me do the actual procedure and you were free to calm Joe, because he is going to need you.”

Ben nodded as he weighed the consequences of letting his eldest son take on that kind of responsibility. His hand rubbed absent-mindedly across the accounting ledger’s leather cover on the desk. Adam, his responsible clear-minded son, had already seen and responded to his brother’s immediate needs, making him as comfortable as possible and now offered him a chance to make it out of this situation alive. Ben was not surprised; Adam had been taking care of both his younger brothers’ needs their whole lives.

Keenly aware of the possible cost, Ben turned to voice his decision in a clear solid tone making the conditions of his choice known. “Alright Adam, I’m prepared to go along with this but there is something you need to keep in mind – I am taking full responsibility for anything that happens here tonight. This is my decision that we go ahead with this and whatever the outcome it will rest on my shoulders. It’s important that you understand that.”

Adam nodded for the benefit of his father. He understood his father’s wish to bear the burden and spare his sons but Adam understood life’s irony better than that. If only that were possible, to have the freedom to make mistakes and have no blame laid at your feet. Adam knew only too well that if it were his hand that ended his brother’s life tonight, both he and his Pa would be forever changed.

“Adam, maybe it’s time you and I took a break outside to get some fresh air. It will be good for Joe to rest a while longer. Hoss will call us if he needs us. I’m going to send Charlie back down to the camp and ask Reed to come up here so we can discuss your thoughts on how to organize the men tonight in order to get them out of here tomorrow morning.”

* * *

Chapter 3 (Monday)

Monday – 6:30 pm – A Plan Of Action

Outside the cabin Adam led his father around back to show him the hidden corral. They stood on the edge of the slope together looking down over the hidden enclosure.

“Not much left is there Adam?” Ben ran an eye over the small amount of horses left in relation to the men at camp. “My guess is Judge sold the men’s livestock as fast as he could saving himself the expense and upkeep of the animals.

“Not to mention the extra cash he used to line his pockets.” Adam did not try to disguise his distain for the man from his father. “If he had more time, our horses would have been the next ones sold off.”

As they waited on Reed’s arrival, Adam raised the thoughts he had started to form regarding tomorrow’s departure and it wasn’t long before they saw two familiar faces coming forward to join them.

“Mr. Cartwright. Charlie said you wanted to see me.”

“Yes Reed, I did.” Ben acknowledged. “Thanks for coming up here. How’s Farley doing?”

“He seems a lot calmer now but he’s hardly said a word so I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. He went over to Sarah’s grave to say goodbye.”

“That might help. I’ll try to get down again later to see him. In the meantime Reed, I think we’ve got a whole bunch of men in this camp feeling a little lost, probably not sure what their next step should be. What do you feel is the general attitude of the men? Are they talking about just walking out of here right now?”

“I think they’re feeling kinda mixed up right now Mr. Cartwright, you know surprised, happy, scared, but no one has actually walked off.”

“What do you mean scared?”

“Well apprehensive might be a better description. They’re just not sure what they’re going to find when they get home. Some of the fellows have been gone so long they’re thinking their families might believe them dead. Those that did not have anyone at home to work their farms, well there’s a good chance their land has been sold or taken and those that did have jobs were probably replaced. So you see even though they might be free – it may not be that easy to just go home.”

“Unfortunately those are some very real possibilities and concerns Reed. We may need to ask for some extra assistance when we get to Dawson. I think the territorial governor is going to be very interested in hearing about what happened here.”

“Is that where you’re figuring on travelin’ to – Dawson? That’s where Judge used to send his deputies for supplies.”

“Hoss agrees it’s the closest town and says he talked to at least one man in this camp that lives near there, so there might be others. Would you mind asking around? We’ll need to travel there by the easiest but quickest route. Of course it’s too late to leave tonight, sun will be down in a couple of hours and trying to make our way out of the mountains tonight in the dark would be fruitless. It’s best to let the men get some sleep and leave here tomorrow morning at first light.”

“I agree with that, especially since they have already put in almost a full day at the mine. They’re tired.”

“If we do leave in the morning however, there is a lot of work that needs to be done tonight and we‘d like to ask you both for your help. Would you feel comfortable taking on that responsibility? I think the men all like and trust you Reed, especially since you share a long history with them.”

“Of course, but you do know Mr. Cartwright that you and your boys have claimed their respect don’t you? It was because of your son, Joe that we’re actually leaving here. Your family has given us all back our lives, they’ll be very happy to cooperate with anything you ask of them.”

“Then let’s help them be a part in making a success of their new freedom, to be as involved in this as they want.” Ben was glad to hear the men would be open to cooperation. “Adam has a few ideas that might help you get started.”

“I’d really like to hear them.” Reed gratefully accepted the offer.

“The first thing I think should happen is to sort the men out. See if anyone needs any special attention or medical help and we’ll try to get them taken care of as best we can.” Adam advised. “Then let’s find out what type of skills we have to work with. We’ll need men to take care of the horses down in the corral. They need to be fed and watered and checked to make sure they are in traveling condition. The wagon also needs to be checked over, make sure it’s in good repair as it’s the only way we have to carry supplies through those hills. We’ll also need to use it to transport those who can’t walk. The deputies and the Judge will require a guard crew. That crew will need to spell each other every four hours so you’ll need to pick some trustworthy men for that; men that can handle a gun if necessary.”

“In addition, we’re going to do something special tonight.” Adam recalled his earlier conversation with the cook. “Charlie has volunteered to put together a decent hot meal for everyone so he will let you know which men he’d like to help. Also Charlie, didn’t you say something earlier about there being more supplies somewhere.”

“If you have a minute I can show it to ya all right now.” Charlie led them back over to the rear wall of the cabin structure. The Cartwrights and Reed had seen no identifying outline or marks that made this section of the timbered structure any different from the other, so it was with a bit of surprise that when Charlie pushed inward on a specific area of the beam, a small door began to open allowing entry into a large interior space.

“Very clever.” Reed ran his hand over the door opening with mild surprise. “You know I worked on framing this place out along with a few other men and even I did not know this was here.”

“It’s most likely that the men who did are no longer here.” Adam added.

“Reckon only a few people did know about it.” Charlie agreed. “Judge liked hiding stuff, even from the guards. Hardly trusted no one but for some reason he didn’t seem to mind me knowin’.”

“Well for our sakes, we’re glad ‘you’re knowin’.” Ben patted the older man on the shoulder as he followed him through the small door, all of them ducking their heads except for Charlie. The space was not overly large but almost every inch of it was well utilized. With the door open, light flooded the otherwise dark cool space. Saddles, saddle blankets, bed rolls, empty rifle scabbards and other riding equipment had been tossed over into one large corner and were piled haphazardly on top of each other while reins, bridles and other accessories hung over the low crossbeams in the ceiling. Recognizing their own tack and riding equipment among the disarray Ben ran his hand over a familiar bridle trimmed with silver conchos that was twisted among several other lengths of braided leathers.

“Reed, whoever you pick to look after the horses, can come up here and start sorting through all this to make sure it’s all useable and in working order. Also, for later reference, any of the tack marked with this here pine tree brand, as well as four of the horses down in the corral, belong to my family.” Ben showed Reed the Ponderosa marking. “There might be other brands or identifying marks that some of the men can claim.”

As Charlie had promised, large sacks containing grains, potatoes, sugar, coffee, flour as well as a barrel of salt pork were set on the bottom of the shelves. The upper shelves held wool blankets, kerosene, lanterns, torches, work shirts in various sizes, a pile of tin plates, cups and forks, towels and cleaning cloths, linens, a box of soaps, and a larger assortment of canned fruits and vegetables than that found inside the cabin’s kitchen. At the very back of the shed was a rope that had been stretched between two beams and hanging down from it were dozens of black iron shackle chains. Seeing the dangling devices of enslavement sent shudders through all the men present as they wondered how many more men the Judge might have harvested into his self-appointed kingdom before he had enough.

Ben could not fathom how the Judge justified keeping so many unused supplies as the men who broke their backs for him every day barely existed on such meager rations. “Reed and Charlie, you can start thinking about how you want to divide these supplies among the men, you’ll know who needs what the most.”

“There’s one more thing I’d like you to keep in mind Charlie.” Adam added. “We have a two-day journey ahead of us and we’re going to require food and water for these men. I’d like you to tell Reed exactly what and how much you need to take and he will find space for it on the wagon. We might get lucky and actually be able to hunt down some fresh meat, but we will need some basic staples.”

“We’re happy to take care of all that but is there anything specific we can do for you Mr. Cartwright?” Reed asked.

The question caused Ben to cast a sideways glance at Adam. They both knew that the job waiting inside for them required no assistance. Adam found himself turning from his father’s look, which still carried a depth of uncertainty for their plan, and his vision shifted downwards towards the floor.

Reed read the obvious signs of uneasiness between the Cartwrights. He could not help but marvel at how these remarkable men, that in spite of their own personal turmoil, had taken time to make sure that the men in camp were being taken care of. Reed would do everything in his power to unite the men in preparing for this journey.

At first, Ben had thought to keep their troubles private but then decided that if they were to all work as a team Reed and Charlie had a right to know what was happening.

“Thank you for your offer Reed but the best thing right now is just having you help the men with their needs because we can’t. I’m afraid that what is happening to my son Joseph has become a family matter. But it’s important that you know why we’ve asked you both to take on so much responsibility. As you saw earlier, Joe was hit hard by Hatch’s bullet. Right now his condition is critical and obviously being isolated in these mountains without medical help is a serious thing. We have no choice, in order to help him, we have to remove the bullet ourselves.”

Reed nodded in sympathetic understanding. He knew only too well how the camp’s isolation had created danger for all of them over the years.

“We’ve already begun preparations.” Adam added. “The only thing we’re going to ask is that we don’t have anyone enter the cabin for the next hour. I hope that doesn’t hinder your responsibilities Charlie.”

“Don’t you worry Adam, there is plenty I can get the men working on without having access to the kitchen. And if’n the men know there is a meal comin’ their way, they’ll be more than happy to wait for it. Lots of prep work can be done over them open pits anyway. Don’t need no fancy table to peel potatoes at.”

“Thanks Charlie.” Adam appreciated the man’s helpfulness.

“As of right now, barring any major complications, we plan on joining you when the group pulls out in the morning.”

“Even Joe?” Reed asked a bit stunned by the announcement.

“Even Joe.” Something in Ben’s unwavering demeanor made Reed believe it. He would say one thing for these Cartwrights. They had grit.

“Charlie turned and pulled down a handful of towels and cloths from the shelf before they left the lean-to. “I’ll leave these in the kitchen for you and grab a couple cooking utensils that I’ll need and then the cabin will be yours until you’re ready.”

Monday – 7:00 pm – Someone’s Got To Do It

Hoss looked up from the bedside as the two older Cartwrights entered the cabin, relieved at their return. Joe still slept, his forehead covered with a cool wet washcloth, while beads of sweat danced across his cheeks. Hoss held Joe’s left wrist in his hands as he gently applied a soothing ointment to the band of redness left by the iron cuff. The ointment pulled from the medical box was a familiar one used regularly in the Cartwright home where scrapes and cuts were a common everyday occurrence on the ranch. Hoss had already washed and wrapped Joe’s ankles and opposite wrist in bands of soft cloth sealing the balm into the tender skin.

“Did he sleep the whole time Hoss?” Ben inquired.

“Pretty much, but I did git him to take in some more water.” Hoss updated them as he began wrapping the wrist he held with another bit of cotton gauze.

Adam came over to the bedside beside Hoss and lifted the white pad that lay atop Joe’s wound. The white cloth had some red staining on it but it was not saturated. The wound itself appeared unchanged since Adam’s earlier observation. “At least it hasn’t gotten any worse.”

“Pa, I was wonderin’ if you thought Joe should have some of that whiskey ‘fore we start? He’s been purty uncomfortable even though he’s sleepin’.” Hoss explained.

“I don’t think it will hurt to give him a glass, it might keep him from moving around too much.” Ben agreed knowing keeping Joe as still as possible would help not only Joe but also Adam.

Hoss reached over to pick up the bottle from the nightstand and filled a portion of Joe’s water glass with whiskey.”

Adam walked back out into the kitchen. Pots of hot water still simmered on the stove and the medical instruments he had asked Charlie to boil now soaked in a wash of alcohol. Everything was ready, everything that was except him. Adam poured some of the hot water from the stove into a small ceramic bowl he took from the hutch and carried it to the area that served as a sink. After rolling his sleeves up to just above the elbows, he reached for a nearby bar of soap and began lathering his hands and forearms loosening the streaks and specks of dirt, grime and rock dust that clung to him. As he washed he tried to push away the mental image of what he was about to do from his mind. Having failed to do so, he bowed his head and offered a prayer asking that his hands and his mind would remain steady and strong throughout this undertaking.

A hand placed at the small of his back had him opening his eyes. For a long moment as father and son stood shoulder to shoulder they found no need for words.

It was Ben who finally broke the silence. “You’re not doing this alone Adam.” Ben’s soft voice washed over tension strung nerves like a calming breeze. “I believe we will be given extra help tonight.”

Ben took the bar of soap and began a likewise scrubbing of his own hands and arms. It was a practice both Adam and Ben had seen their family doctor do on numerous occasions but one that came naturally to the Cartwrights who routinely made a practice of keeping their environment as clean as possible.

Fear was not what consumed Adam. He was neither afraid nor nervous and it was not the first time he had ever removed a bullet from a man. Bullets, guns and bloodshed were a fairly common part of living in the West. Slaughtering and hunting also were an everyday occurrence for the son of a rancher. It was just the first time he would be inflicting so much pain on someone he loved. He only hoped Joe would forgive him when it was all over.

Ben reached for the bowl of warm water and poured it down the length of both his arms and Adam’s rinsing them both free of the soap residue.

“I’m ready.” Adam exhaled shaking his hands dry over the sink and asked his Pa to empty the alcohol from the bowl containing the instruments and bring it with him.

Adam sat down on the side of the mattress near Joe’s hip facing his brother. He noticed that Ben had moved the nightstand down from the back wall by about three feet allowing space for the chair to be placed at Joe’s head. Ben had also lit the oil lamp on the nightstand and it shone extra light right across Joe’s chest. Joe’s eyes were open but they did not seem focused on Adam.

“Hoss, did he drink any of the whiskey?” Adam asked while searching Joe’s flushed face looking for a sign of recognition from his brother.

“I got about three shots in him, but I don’t think it’s agreein’ with his stomach much.” Hoss replied.

“We’ll give it a couple minutes to sink in. In the meantime Hoss, why don’t you move on down to the end of the bed and I’ll sit up here with Adam.” Ben instructed his son.

Hoss nodded and slowly moved into position. Even though his father did not voice the reason why aloud, he knew what was going to be expected of him and the thought of having to forcibly keep Joe down while his own family purposely inflicted a wealth of agony on his little brother’s already suffering body welled Hoss’ sensitivity with anguish.

Ben placed the bowl containing the cleaned tools on the nightstand next to the glass whiskey bottle and several of the smaller size cloths. Ben lowered himself down into the chair.

“Joe . . .” Adam leaned up close to Joe’s ear. “Can you hear me?”

A slight movement of Joe’s head was the response and his eyes fluttered trying to focus on his brother’s voice.

“Joe, we’re going to take the bullet out now.” Adam believed it was important that somewhere, somehow in Joe’s mind he knew that the pain he was about to experience had a purpose. “It going to hurt buddy and you’re going to have to stay as still as possible, but I’ll try to get this over quickly. I wish we didn’t have to do this to you, but it’s the only way we’re going to get you better.”

The pain seemed to lift from Joe’s hazel eyes as he sought the warmth that reflected from his brother’s deep brown ones. A wave of understanding passed between the two of them; one for what he must do; the other for what he must bear.

“Joseph, son,” Ben called softly as he gently traced a path along the side of Joe’s hardened biceps. Joe moved his head on the pillow to see his father beside him. “All three of us are here with you. You’re not alone in this.” Ben continued stroking Joe’s arm as he lifted a small piece of tightly rolled toweling so that he could see it. Joe stared at the object in his father’s hand until his dulled senses comprehended its meaning and then looked back at his father. Keeping eye contact with his father he slightly parted his lips and Ben slid the roll of cloth sideways into his mouth. Joe lightly closed his teeth together holding the cloth in place.

“We’re ready Adam.” Ben spoke as moved back allowing him access to Joe.

“I think we should swab down the wound again.” Adam said as he pulled the white cloth from Joe’s shoulder.

Ben poured some whiskey on one of the cotton pads and handed it to Adam who wiped the wound area and surrounding skin clean one final time before taking the scalpel from the bowl into his hand. He positioned the blade and then with a firm hand he cut down deep increasing the length of the wound by about an inch. Blood poured from the new cut. Joe’s head and body twisted and rose up slightly in response to this latest agony, his teeth sinking deep into the roll of cloth. Ben reached for the top of his son’s shoulder blades pushing him firmly back down onto the mattress. Hoss similarly found himself keeping a strong grip on Joe’s legs as they tried to pull out from his grasp. Ben took one of the many small cloths they had ready and wiped away the blood.

Adam tried hard not to look up at Joe, but concentrated on his job. With the flat side of the blade, he pushed the walls of the tissue aside searching, hoping to tap onto the metal cylinder. With the tip of the sharpened blade he deepened the path he believed the bullet had traveled.

Without being asked, Ben wiped the pooling blood clear for Adam. With Joe twisting so fiercely, Adam pulled the scalpel from the cavity afraid it might accidentally cut into an area not intended.

Adam dropped the blood-coated scalpel into the bowl and picked up the narrow probe.

With the blunted tip of the pencil-thin device, Adam had more freedom at compressing the soft tissue as he explored and poked about inside the cavity feeling for the unyielding hard foreign object. He had just about exhausted every inch of the opening when down in the lower right corner, he believed he might have made a valuable discovery, but there was still too much tissue in the way to be sure.

“I might have something, but I’ve got to go a bit deeper. I just hope it isn’t bone.”

Biting his lower lip, he pulled the probe out and reached again for the scalpel. He lifted the tool up slightly from the base of the bowl and waited for Ben to pour a quick wash of whiskey over the stained blade.

Ben made another swab around the wound area and threw the used cloth into the growing pile near the basin.

Adam cut once again and Ben had to grab hard onto his youngest son, his muffled cries through the roll of cloth heart wrenching and the sweat of Joe’s fever intensified creating large drops that rolled onto the pillow and sheets beneath him.

Hoss found himself having to hold tighter to Joe’s legs, surprised at exactly how much strength Joe still had inside him.

The incision was not large enough for Adam to see into. It was more by instinct that he knew he had located the desired object and he exhaled softly; they were almost there. Adam glanced up at Joe for the first time and almost wished he hadn’t. His brother’s head was pressed deep into the pillow; his neck twisted so hard with jaw clenching agony, that every cord and muscle were outlined against his skin. Tears leaked from beneath coal black eyelashes, leaving wet trails across his cheeks. Adam knew he had to finish fast.

His blood coated fingers grabbed hold of the long handled tweezers. Inserting the instrument down into the opening he rotated it back into the corner of the wound. He used heavy force to push the flesh away and clamp the tips of the tweezers down around the sides of the slippery cylinder. As he began to pull upwards, the slick coated tips of the instrument slipped losing their grip and Adam gave a gasp of frustration. He had to force the tool back into position and then squeezing the tips together with as much strength as he could, he began to gently tug the object loose from it’s buried position. Holding his breath he continued pulling until he felt it break free. He did not release his breath until the slimy silver burnished bullet was clear of the wound. He held it up allowing them all a chance to see the object that had wrecked such destruction.

“Thank you son.” The deep whispered voice of gratitude floated through the air and Adam felt the tension begin to leave his body as he dropped the bullet into the basin, hearing it clatter against the china.

“We should clean the wound again.” Adam recommended as he watched his father mop the influx of blood from his last invasion.

“I agree, let’s get it all done now so Joe can rest.” Ben threw the last two cloths into the mounting pile and handed over the bottle.

Using the same technique as before, Adam again lightly flushed out the wound using the fiery alcohol. Joe, who believed he had already reached the utmost pinnacle of pain in what they could do to him, shuddered violently and passed into inky blackness.

Ben who had been holding Joe’s shoulders down felt his son’s body collapse under his hands. For one unsure moment, Ben blanched and instantly moved his fingers to the side of Joe’s throat feeling for his pulse. When he found it, he reached up to stroke back the sweat soaked locks trying to ease the deep furrowed lines of his son’s forehead.

“He’s alright, he’s just out.” Ben reassured both of his sons noticing as he did that Adam was almost as white as Joe was.

“Adam?” Ben was now doubly concerned.

“I’m okay Pa, just a bit unnerved especially having to deepen the wound the second time.”

“It’s over son. We’ll just have to wait now, make sure his fever doesn’t go too high. Hoss, can you come over here and take Adam’s place? I’d like you to help me wrap this padding tightly in place over the wound until the bleeding slows. As long as Joe’s not moving around, we can leave the suturing till later.”

Ben threw all the bloodied rags into the instrument basin feeling a bit queasy himself as he saw the total amount of blood that had come from Joe. “Adam, let’s go in the kitchen and get cleaned up.”

As Adam went to the sink to start washing up, Ben pulled the instruments and the bullet from the bowl of dirtied towels. He tucked the bowl into the corner where later he would ask Charlie to dispose of the contents. Then joined Adam at the sink where he also washed not only his hands but also the instruments until they gleamed again with no trace of the job they had just performed.

Ben still worried about his eldest. “I’ll put some coffee on. Why don’t you go into the living room and sit down for a while.” Ben offered.

“Really Pa, I’m okay. I just need to unwind for a couple of minutes. I know you want to go be with Joe. I’ll make the coffee and bring you some when it’s ready.”

* * * * *

Adam found Hoss kneeling in front of the fireplace poking the lit kindling around encouraging the small flames to grow big enough to light the larger logs.

“Almost gives this place the illusion of a real home.” Adam remarked as he handed a cup of steaming hot black liquid to his brother.

“The smell of this coffee don’t hurt neither.” Hoss sniffed appreciatively as he set the fireplace poker back into its stand and sat down in the fabric-covered chair.

Adam walked over and lit the lamp on the desk. With both the fireplace and lamp lit, the illumination in the room seemed to chase the dark shadows from the space. A look through the window revealed that dusk was fast approaching. He watched as several groups of men began to tear apart the crumbling shelter that had been their only known home for so long. Taking the broken and split poles of wood, they tossed them onto one of several piles which were currently ablaze providing extra light and heat for the men that would spend their last night here. Adam mentally gave his approval; it was a good cleansing start of what he hoped would be a successful purification process.

A voice pulled his attention away from the outside world and Adam turned back to his brother. “Adam, I know what you did for Joe weren’t easy, it took a powerful lot of courage. Pa is mighty grateful and I’m real proud of ya.”

“Thanks Hoss, I just hope it’s enough.” Adam kept his doubts from his softhearted brother about Joe’s ability to recover in these conditions without further medical aide.

“Little Joe’s tough, you know what a fighter he is.” Hoss answered with unfailing optimism. “Heck he didn’t even pass out until that last little bit, although I kinda wish he would’a passed out earlier. That kid brother of ours has the strength of three men.” Hoss rolled his shoulders back. “How’d he git so strong anyway?”

“From trying to outdo and outrun his two big brothers.” Adam answered, smiling slightly.

“Adam you know Pa ain’t gonna leave Little Joe’s side lessen he has to.”

“And I don’t think he should, Joe needs him right now and being here in the house maybe Pa can get a little rest himself. These last two days of manual labor have been tough, he’s not even recovered from the cattle drive yet and now trying to help Joe; I’m worried he’s going to exhaust himself. Hoss, I’d like you to stay here and help him as much as possible with Joe. If you’re here, it will make it easier for me to go out and assist Reed.”

“Don’t ya worry none Adam. I’ll take good care of both of ‘em.” Hoss reassured his brother. “I just wish there was more I could do fer the others.”

“Oh you will have more than your share I think. First, you’ve got Charlie coming up here in a little bit and he’d appreciate some help. Then if there is anybody who needs extra attention tonight, I thought I’d send them up here to the cabin for you to take a look at. We’ve got all those medical supplies you can use and plenty of soap and hot water. Just put enough stuff aside for Joe for the next couple days including an extra bottle of whiskey.”

“That’s a good idea Adam. When Dean was cutting those chains off some of the men, there were some pretty bad cuts. I can use that ointment I put on Joe. In fact Adam, I’d like to put some on you too before you go out.”

“There’s no need for that Hoss, Pa and I cleaned our cuts pretty well when we scrubbed up for Joe earlier.”

“I know it’s clean, but I’d like to fix it up so it stays that’a way. So before I let you out of here, you’re gonna let me do that for ya.”

“I thought I was the big brother.”

“Only when I need ya to be, you just sit still and I’ll go get the ointment from the back room.”

Adam sighed and sat down on the edge of the desktop hooking one of his long legs over the front lip. Placing his coffee cup down on the flat surface, he absent-mindedly picked up the accounting ledger book that had been randomly tossed there as if the owner was in a hurry. Adam flipped through the pages taking note of the basic entries that outlined standard operating costs and bills of receipts, nothing of which appeared strange to Adam. Except for the fact that this particular business was run by a delusional man, Adam would have been impressed with the meticulous bookkeeping. Not even the books of the Ponderosa were this neat. The man who posted these entries obviously possessed a skill and enjoyed doing it.

Losing interest he flipped through to the back section and was about to close the cover when the written name of Cartwright caught his eye. Upon closer inspection he found that each of the four Cartwrights had their own entries. Immediately Adam’s began to give full attention to each line as he began to read in earnest.

“Hoss,” Adam called over to his brother as he re-entered the room “You’ve got to see this.”

“Yeah Adam, what is it?” Hoss put some of the strips of cloth down on the desk and began to shake the bottle of ointment in his hand.

“Look!” Adam shoved the book under Hoss’ nose using his index finger to point at a section on the page. “This book contains the names of each of the men that the Judge brought into the camp. The date he took them prisoner and a list of all the belongings they had with them. This column here shows how much money he got for each item.”

Hoss swallowed. This was a very important document. “There are so many names Adam.” Hoss ran his stout finger quickly down the list and noticed that on some of the men’s names an extra column had been added and a date. He looked at Adam for confirmation.

“Yes, I think it probably indicates the date they died here.” Adam flipped to the last page showing Hoss their own names.

“Adam if’n this column next to our stuff is blank, that means our guns, saddlebags and the bank draft are still here don’t it? You sure they weren’t in the storage room?”

“No, we did a full search in there. There’s got to be another area. We’re going to have to start searching this whole cabin. Maybe there is another hiding place Charlie knows about.”

“Well if’n we don’t find it soon, I’ll be happy to ask the Judge personal like. The way I’m feelin’ right now about what happened to Joe we’d have our answer right quick.”

“It may come to that but Hoss there is one thing that the Judge may not want to give up and that is the gold itself. After all these years of making men mine these hills, I’m sure he’s got a pretty good stash hidden somewhere and my gut feeling is that when we find our stuff, we’ll find the gold as well.”

“Well if yer’ not going to let me go bullying on the Judge right now, then you sit still and let me finish this bandagin’ so you can go tell Charlie to come back up here. I know he’ll be anxious to get back into the kitchen and I don’t mind telling ya I’m getting a mite hungry myself.”

Adam watched as Hoss knotted the last of his wrist bandages.

“I’m just going to see Pa first and show him the ledger. This book in conjunction with the men’s testimony is probably all the proof we’ll need to put the Judge away for good.”

When Adam re-entered the back room, he noticed that the chair and nightstand had been placed back into their original positions. Ben sat in the chair, his chin resting on folded hands watching Joe sleep. Adam took a seat once again on the bed and looked his brother over with an observant eye. Joe still lay motionless in the bed, the thick white pressure dressing covering all evidence of their earlier butchery; a wet cloth draped his forehead while spots of fever flushed his cheeks, the only area of color on his whitened flesh.

Ben’s brows drew together as he read over the incriminating pages. “Adam, this is incredible evidence. Once a court-appointed judge sees this, the men will have their justice. In fact it’s so important that I’m just not sure it’s a good idea to even reveal the book’s existence just yet. If the Judge knows we’ve found it he’s libel to do anything to get it back. We will need to keep this somewhere safe. What would be great for the men’s morale is if we could find some of their possessions listed here; the ones that haven’t been sold, that is, if they still exist. Just because there is not a notation doesn’t mean the Judge didn’t trade or give them away or even just forgot to write the transaction down.”

“I don’t think so, he’s been too meticulous with all of his other entries. I believe our guns are somewhere in or around this cabin especially since we haven’t been here long enough for him to have done anything with them.”

“Why don’t you talk to Reed, see if he has any ideas, Charlie too. He might know about another storage area he forgot to mention.”

“We’re going to. Hoss and I did a little talking and just to outline our plan, he’s is going to stay with you and Joe for now, making sure you get anything you need and also take care of any men I send up here that might need to be looked at.” Adam stroked his hand over the section of blanket that covered Joe’s thigh, his way of letting his brother know they were still there, still with him. “That way I can go down and help Reed for a while.”

But as he watched over his very ill brother, he doubted the wisdom of leaving his family right now and Ben read the indecision on Adam’s face. “I know your heart is with us Adam, but Reed would really appreciate your help in the camp. He’s a good man but he doesn’t have your leadership experience and I would feel more secure if you had a hand in helping get us out of here. So I don’t want you feeling guilty that you’re not here with us. Joe is not even going to be aware of anything going on around him for quite a while.”

“Fever up?”

“A bit, but we did expect that. I’m hoping over the course of the next few hours, it will drop again. I’m going to have Hoss help me change the sheets later, these are pretty much soaked through.”

Adam nodded. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen if Joe’s fever went even higher. Taking care of a sick man in his own bed was hard enough, but on horseback it would be near impossible. He had to come up with a plan. “Let’s keep the ledger in the nightstand drawer for now, nobody will bother coming in here except us.”

“Alright Adam, I’ll see you soon son.” Ben released him.

Reed came forward to greet Adam as he came down the hill to reenter the base camp.

Adam volunteered the information that Reed was almost afraid to ask. “We got the bullet, but it was rough. We just have to wait now, so I thought I’d put myself to work. Can you use an extra hand?”

“You know I could. Come on, let me introduce you properly to some of the men you may not of met yet.”

* * *

Chapter 4 (Monday)

Monday – 9:00 pm – Eve of Liberation

Charlie re-entered the cabin followed by four men, one of which was being helped up the hill by two others as he tried to hop along on one ankle.

Hoss met them at the door.

“Adam sent us, said it would be alright now.” Charlie said apprehensively.

“Yeah Charlie, I’ve been expectin’ you.” Hoss ushered the group into the living area.

“Hoss meet Earl and Tim and the fellow between them with the injured ankle is Scottie. You, of course, already know Nick.

“Nice to meet ya fellas official like. Come in and have a seat at this here table. Scottie, let’s get the weight off that ankle.”

“I be thanking you Mr. Cartwright.” The man’s accent and red hair immediately gave away the origin of his nickname.

“None of that Mr. Cartwright stuff. Name belongs to my Pa. Just plain Hoss will do.” Hoss gave each of them one of his warmest welcoming smiles. “Now Scottie looking at you limpin’ like that I figger my brother Adam sent you up here to get a bit of doctoring.”

Scottie could not help but warm immediately to the larger man. “He did at that Mr. Cart.., Hoss. Told him I’d be fine, I just twisted it a bit, but he insisted.”

“Your brother is definitely someone you don’t want to mess with.” Earl added. “I told him this cut on my thigh was already a couple days old and next thing I know I’m here.”

“Yeah, older brother kin be a bit head-strong, but turns out most’a the time he’s right; so why don’t we see about getting you all fixed up best we kin and what about you Nick?” Hoss addressed the quiet young man who hadn’t even reached his nineteenth birthday yet, standing next to Charlie. “Adam send you up here too?”

“No. So far I’ve been one of the lucky ones, but Adam did say to tell you he would be sending up more men later.”

“I asked Nick to help me get this dinner served.” Charlie explained. “Ever since Reed told the men they had extra vittles comin’ tonight, they’ve been flutterin’ around me like bees to honey.”

“Then let’s not keep ‘em waiting any longer. The kitchen is all yours.” Hoss offered with a wave of his hand. “Adam made a pot of coffee earlier, there might be some left that we could offer these fellows.”

“If not, I’ll make some more. You sure there is nothing your Pa needs before I get started.” Charlie looked across the room to the closed door.

“Not for a while.” Hoss reassured the cook. “But I’m goin’ need a fresh bowl of cold water to soak Scottie’s ankle in and another for cleanin’ out some of these injuries. We should probably jest keep that big pot of water heatin’ on back of the stove.”

Hoss looked over the tabletop that was littered with cut up strips of sheeting material and cloths and the strewn contents of the medical box from the kitchen but he had a feeling they were going to need more. He handed a pair of scissors to Earl and asked him to continue cutting up strips of sheets while he lifted Scottie’s ankle up onto the chair next to him and carefully eased off his boot.

* * * * *

During the course of the next couple hours, the front part of the cabin turned into a makeshift clinic. Hoss and Charlie dished out food and coffee, cleaned wounds and applied ointments, then wrapped dozens of cuts of all shapes and sizes all in a wide range of bodily locations. Hoss recognized that several of them needed the skilled hand of a doctor and most likely prescribed medication. But Hoss did what he could, concentrating on the fact that these men were getting a chance at life again. The men thanked Hoss and Charlie gratefully but no one accepted their offer to stay up in the cabin. Their spirits were soaring with their new freedom and they longed to be part of the excitement building down in the camp. After being fed and tended to and warmed by the large fires ignited around camp they seemed to stand straighter and hold their heads higher. Being silenced for so long, it was soon apparent that very little sleep would happen that night. The buzz of life all around them was too stimulating.

* * * * *

“Adam, you’ve done all you could for them now. They’ve got everything they need at the moment including full bellies, clean shirts and blankets and a way home.” Reed told his exhausted friend. “You need to go up to the cabin, rest and be with your family until daybreak.”

“Not just yet. I’ve still got some unfinished business with one man first.” The cold flat tone of Adam’s voice caught Reed by surprise, something Reed had not witnessed in Adam before.

“Adam that man is not going anywhere. You set up the guard detail yourself. You’ve got him completely isolated from everyone else.”

“That’s exactly why I need to talk to him right now.”

“Alright but I’m going with you.” Reed found he had to turn quickly as Adam had already started walking towards the desired tent.

“Wait out here.” Adam firmly told Reed as he lifted the tent flap and walked into the interior of the small canvas structure.

Raising the lantern in his hand, a circle of light illuminated the space through which Adam saw the Judge laying down on the cot, the only item left in the tent. Now Adam even regretted his decision to leave that. This man should be laying in the dirt the same way he had made so many men do over the years.

The Judge knew Adam was inside the tent but he did not bother to sit up. Adam moved closer so he could see the Judge’s face. Just looking at the man’s features made Adam’s skin crawl. He had not realized how much more his hatred had grown for this man over just the course of the past few hours. Not only had his own family been terrorized by this one vile human but so many good decent men had had their lives and their family’s lives stolen all for the price of a few lousy dollars. It made Adam burn even hotter with disgust and anger but his calm stoic appearance revealed nothing.

“Where is it?” Adam kept his voice controlled.

Adam’s demand was met with only silence.

“I asked you where it was.” Adam repeated.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?”

“NO and I would never tell you anyway.”

“The game is over Harkins.” Adam pronounced the name with a specific coiled emphasis. “You’re through here. There are no more men who will work or slave or even die for you. Between all of those men outside, there is more than enough testimony to put you away for life or possibly the alternative.”

Dark eyes blazed at Adam upon the mention of his true surname and he pulled himself upright to sit on the edge of the cot, his own blood beginning to boil as Adam reminded him of the repercussions of being caught. Until now all of his energies had been on plans of escape, not on some far off consequences. Knowing his gold was still well hidden; he believed if he could just get to it, he would have enough money to just disappear. He wished he had never laid eyes on the whole damn interfering Cartwright family. It was bad enough they had destroyed his camp and killed his top deputy; now they wanted his gold too. He felt more trapped than ever before. He was a man who thrived on control and now found himself completely at the mercy of others. “If I wasn’t in these chains…” The angry man said menacingly.

“I can easily have them removed for you.” Adam offered with a wry smile.

“And give you an excuse to kill me. No thanks, I’d have a better chance with some fast talking lawyer and if you’re thinking of interrogating my deputies, you’ll find it’s a waste of time.”

“If your deputies knew where you kept the gold, they’d talk fast enough if only to save their own hides. But those pitiful souls who were more than willing to do your killing for you for a fair share now know that their boss means to keep it all for himself. They’ll be only too happy to testify to taking your direct orders.”

“Shut-up!” Harkins lashed out once again being confronted with consequences.

“It doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not Harkins, because I’ve got twenty odd men out there who come morning, will rip that little cabin of yours apart timber by timber until we find everything we are looking for. I’m sure your little treasure chest will soon be added to the pile of interesting items we’ve put together so far.”

“Go ahead,” A hissed challenge was the glowering response. “You’ll never find anything.”

Until that moment Adam had not been one hundred percent sure, but now he knew with certainty that the gold was somewhere inside the cabin. The heightened degree of anger just displayed by the Judge was only a mask for fear of his adversary’s discovery. But there were only a few short hours left until daybreak to find it. Adam turned on his heel and started for the opening.

A chain looped around his neck had him gasping for breath and his hand went instinctively to the throat to try and loosen the pressure.

“You’re not going anywhere. You Cartwrights are going to pay for ruining my business and you can be the next to join your brother.”

Spots were beginning to dance in front of Adam’s eyes as the chain tightened against his windpipe. He dropped the lantern to the ground freeing his other hand to pull at the chain. Harkins was so focused on what he was doing, that he did not even notice when the flap flew open and an iron fist flew into his jaw, sending him reeling over backwards, taking Adam with him but as the chain came loose, Adam rolled away.

Sitting up, Harkins found himself facing the gleaming barrels of two aimed rifles and he did not move further.

“Adam, you alright?” Reed asked in concern as he lent the tall, muscular Cartwright a hand in standing up.

Adam shook off Reed’s arm and walked outside the tent too angry with himself to respond. It was his own fault; he should never have turned his back. Reed picked up the lantern and closely followed Adam out of the tent.

“We need more guards.” Adam’s self control was returning.

“I’d put more guards on duty, but we just don’t have any more gun power.” Reed explained. “We’re stretched thin between the two tents.”

“Then let’s rotate the security schedule more frequently. We can’t afford to be caught off-guard with him.”

In the resuming dark interior of the tent John Harkins smiled. That had felt good. There was still a chance these Cartwrights could be taken. The bars of his cage had opened a bit; it wasn’t as finished as he feared. Even if Adam did find the gold, he still had two days, two days in which these cowhands would become open targets on the trail. His deputies may be of no use but his partners were still viable assets and they were now several days overdue. The minute they discovered him missing, they would come looking for their profits. Only one thing burned at the back of his mind, Adam’s use of his real name. How had he known? He had never even revealed his true identity to his own deputies. What exactly was Adam referring to when he mentioned the pile of interesting items? What had Adam found? Unless . . . and then with a sickening thought he knew . . . that book must never reach Dawson!

* * * * *

“HOSS!” A loud shout came from the bedroom and Hoss and Charlie immediately arose from the front table to respond to the call.

Hoss noticed the look of distress on Ben’s face. “What is it Pa?

“I need some help. Joe just got sick all over himself, everything’s soiled, the sheets, the pillows and the blankets. It just came on so fast, he woke up suddenly and it happened.”

“I’ll go get some stuff to help you clean up the mess Mr. Cartwright.” Charlie offered. “Hoss, there are fresh sheets and linen in that blanket chest in the corner.”

Adam walked through the front door just as Charlie emerged from the bedroom. Charlie motioned Adam to go straight on back to the other room.

Ben looked up from his seat next to Joe taking note of Adam’s appearance. The exhaust and fatigue clearly showed on his son’s face and his dark clothes seemed to be covered with more dirt and debris than ever. Among the layers of dust and filth on the front of his black shirt were stiffened streaks of Joe’s dried blood that had turned dark purple in color.

“What’s going on?” Adam took note of the bedding being stripped away from the mattress his brother was lying on and Ben washing down the side of Joe’s face while pressing the bandage down again hard over the wound.

“Joe woke up a few minutes ago very nauseous and sick to his stomach, it just came out all over everything. All that movement twisted him up pretty bad and he started bleeding again. We’re trying to get him cleaned up but I don’t think the nausea is over just yet.” Ben watched his pale son struggle with short gasps as his chest seemed to tighten and his flat stomach muscles contracted inward. A series of heaving gags left them all feeling helpless.

“Hoss, help Pa turn him on his side, otherwise he’s going to choke.”

“But Adam that ‘ill put too much pressure on his wound.”

“Just turn him partway and hold him there. Pa can hold the wound steady to minimize the bleeding.

Acting quickly Charlie put a towel down under Joe’s mouth and chin to catch the foul liquid before it stained through to the bare ticking beneath him.

Charlie reminded Ben so much of Hop Sing, always doing the little things that were needed before anyone asked. Ben suddenly missed the little Chinese cook and would give anything to have Joe home now under Hop Sing’s wing, clucking furiously at Ben for allowing his favorite boy to be in such shape.

The worst of the retching was quickly over, Joe’s stomach having emptied what little food he had consumed that morning along with the latter combined intakes of whiskey and water. But it was another ten minutes before the dry heaving loosened it’s grip enough for Hoss to be able to turn his worn out body again onto his back. Because of the pressure Ben had kept up on the wound, this time the bleeding was minimal.

“Maybe getting that stuff out of his system will help reduce the fever some more.” Ben reasoned out loud. “It was actually starting to come down a while ago before this happened.”

“Pa . . . stomach hurts.” Joe murmured lightly.

“I know son. You’ve got to try and relax.” Ben kept his right hand tight to the bandage and with his left he reached over and began rubbing his hand over Joe’s stomach in soft circular motions, massaging the twisted, knotted muscles mindful of the deep bruising spread over his abdomen.

“Pa we’ve got to get that wound stitched up pretty soon.” Adam advised. “I’ll get the suturing kit from the doctor’s bag. I would do it but I’m filthy again and I don’t want to get him dirty.

“Adam, I think I can actually handle that part if Hoss is here to keep Joe still. Why don’t you go out to the kitchen and get washed up a bit? You look like you’ve been putting this camp back together single handedly. I’ll wager you haven’t even taken time to eat yet.”

“I’ll make sure he gets something hot inside him Mr. Cartwright.” Charlie picked up the soiled sheets and towel and headed for the door. “Come on Adam, your Pa doesn’t need two sons to worry about right now.”

“Adam, take that shirt off and let me wash it out for you. I’ll find you a replacement.

At the sink, he unbuttoned the sweat streaked black shirt and literally peeled it from his muscled torso. With the fresh supply of hot water Charlie provided him, he washed not only his hands and arms but swilled the soaped wet washrag over his face, neck, sides and broad-shouldered, softly haired chest as best he could, breaking loose the caked on grime. The rest of him would have to wait until he got to a bathhouse in Dawson. Taking the damp rag, he also wiped down the front and back legs of the pants he wore.

Having consumed the plate of hot food that Charlie prepared for him, Adam sat at the table actually beginning to feel a bit better than he had for quite a while. Sipping from the cup of coffee in his hand, he began studying the cabin’s interior hoping for a sign that would tell him just where the Judge would have hidden his gold. But with too many thoughts distracting him, he decided to rejoin his family.

Charlie was exiting the bedroom as Adam returned. His job done for now, he pulled the bedroom door shut behind him giving the family a bit of privacy.

Adam noted Joe was asleep once more, tucked into clean sheets, the cold compress once more draped across his forehead. “He looks a lot more comfortable.” Adam commented as he took up his previous position at Joe’s side. “The stitching go alright?”

“Yes, but he’s so exhausted he hardly even flinched. When you have the right tools, it’s amazing how easy the job can be. I can recall plenty of times during my days aboard ship when we did not.”

“I don’t think you ever mentioned that before Pa.” Hoss tossed a folded sheet that was not needed back into the blanket chest. He lowered the hinged cover and then took a seat on the chest’s flat lid hoping his Pa would explain further. He always liked hearing about his Pa’s early days when he commanded the clipper ships. When the boys were smaller Ben used to tell them stories all the time but now it seemed as if those stories had become a rarity.

“I probably left that part out as it’s not exactly the glory part of the sailing business. Unfortunately it was a hazard of the job. Practically every day some fool got some kind of knife cut or ended up on the wrong side of someone’s knuckles. But it couldn’t always be blamed on the sailors. With so much ship movement it did seem we took almost as many hooks out of men’s flesh as we did out of the fish they caught.” Ben reminisced. “I certainly have never acquired a taste for doing it, especially on my own son, but it isn’t the first time I’ve stitched one of you up either. Hoss you probably don’t remember when you were about four years old and you fell out of a tree right in our own yard.”

“Yeah, I do recall that, I was chasin’ some kind of critter. I think it was a cat.”

“Oh, it was a cat alright, a small bobcat that had decided to take a shortcut across our land. You climbed right up that skinny little tree after him but the branch you climbed on broke off and you fell about five feet. Probably would have been fine except for the jagged rock you fell onto. It put a gash in the side of your calf.”

“I still got a small scar there.”

“I wasn’t sure what we were going to do, the cut wouldn’t stop bleeding. There was no doctor in the territory then, so I just got out your mother’s sewing kit and took a few stitches with her embroidery needle. You would hardly hold still, all you were worried about was that darn bobcat. A couple hours later you were back out trying to track down that poor animal again.”

“Fortunately that was the only time I had to use my own sewing skills on you kids. Adam, of course, had way too much sense to climb trees that wouldn’t hold his weight and by the time Joe was born, we had Dr. Martin practicing in Virginia City.”

“I wish we had Dr. Martin here right now.” Hoss expressed.

“So do I Hoss.” Ben softly agreed. “So do I . . .”

Adam told his father and brother about his evening ending with his run-in with the Judge.

“I dun told you I’d be more than happy to go down and take care of that miserable beast Adam.” Hoss vehemently reminded his older brother of his earlier offer.

Ben was not happy to hear about the attack on Adam. “Let’s just make sure the guard teams you’ve set up tomorrow keep that man isolated as much as we can from the main group, don’t want him pulling any more crazy stunts and managing to get someone else hurt.”

“I don’t know how much more I can stand lookin’ at that man!” Hoss’ anger brought him to his feet. “The things he’s done and continues to do. I wish there was a way we didn’t have to take him with us.”

“Please sit down son.” Ben soothed. “I understand exactly how you’re feeling Hoss. I, too, wish there was someone else to hand him over to but until we get to Dawson, he is our responsibility. It’s important that this family remain unified not only for our sakes but also for those men who have lost even more than we have and we won’t be able to do that if we let our emotions get in the way of our duty.”

“It just ain’t right Pa, so much destruction from one man!” Hoss’ anger was reflected in the hard way that he retook his seat on top of the chest. As soon as he plopped down, a loud splintering crack was heard and the chest lurched to one side under the impact of his heavy body weight. Hoss quickly regained his feet to survey the damage. The first thing he noticed was that one of the front three-inch peg legs of the chest had broken off and the chest now sat a lopsided angle.

“I shore didn’t mean to do that.” Hoss felt a bit embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about it Hoss, just leave it.” Adam told him.

“I think if I just put the leg back under the chest, it will at least sit upright.” Hoss snatched up the broken leg and lifted the chest easily from underneath; it’s weight nothing in the hand of the strapping man. As he hefted the furniture he heard another tearing sound as the panel that made up the bottom of chest tore away from the frame and dropped to the floor.

“Who made this thing?” Hoss muttered, now realizing the damage was way beyond an easy fix. “Darn thing won’t even sit upright now.”

“There’s something in the way Hoss.” From his perspective on the bed, Adam could see some thick brown fiber that had caught between the dropped thin panel and the floor. “Here, I’ll get it.” Adam offered realizing Hoss couldn’t see it and knowing his brother wouldn’t stop fussing with the chest until he at least had it upright. Adam reached under the chest and tugged on the brown material, but the bulky object seemed to be stuck. “Hoss tilt this chest over onto its side.” Adam now was as determined as Hoss to fix this thing. With the panel exposed, Hoss and Adam together finished breaking away the thin layer of wood. Two drawstring bags jammed full of a lumpy substance and a black billfold rolled out of the space to fall at their feet and they noted that the panel had been serving as a false bottom to the chest.

Adam and Hoss exchanged looks of amazement. They each picked up one of the canvas bags and pulled the drawstrings open. Adam had an idea of what was inside but it wasn’t until he actually viewed the contents he believed it. Hoss unlike Adam’s calm reaction went wild-eyed with excitement.

“Well would ya look at what was under this here chest.” He held out the opened sack for his father.

“The Judge’s gold.” Ben affirmed quietly as he began examining the various sizes of nuggets. “There must be several thousand dollars worth.”

“That’s not all.” Adam handed him the black billfold. Ben flipped it open to reveal a large amount of paper money as well as a familiar looking white bank draft.

“I think the credit goes to Hoss on this one.” Adam admitted.

“Bet yer’ glad it were me sittin’ on that there chest and not our skinny little brother’s butt.” Hoss joked. “You’d still be looking for it.”

“Maybe I should have you go around and sit on the rest of the furniture, you might turn up our guns and saddlebags.” Adam wryly suggested.

“Well ain’t no way our stuff is hidin’ inside that chest, it’s too small. It’s gotta be somewhere else.”

A train of thought began to construe in Adam’s mind. “Reed said Harkins designed and supervised the building of this cabin. We know he built on that hidden back room and now we find that he built a false bottom on this blanket chest. This guy’s got some kind of background in either construction or carpentry.”

“What ya gettin’ at Adam?” Hoss wondered.

“After my little conversation with John Harkins I know that our things are definitely inside this building. There must be another area that is large enough to hold all those possessions.”

“I talked with Charlie, he said he doesn’t know about any other hidden rooms and I checked the inside walls, they are not thick enough to hide anything in.” Ben added.

“That’s just it, I don’t think it’s another room. I think there is some place underneath the cabin.

“Like a cellar?”

“I don’t think it would be that deep because the cabin is built on mountain rock, so he couldn’t have dug down too deep but he could have framed out a section of the foundation.

“How we gonna find out without ripping up the whole floor, not that I won’t do it?” Hoss inquired.

Adam’s architectural mind began to chart the space and then with a burst of inspiration he knew.

“Hoss, come with me.” Adam ordered as he hurried out the door and into the front room while Hoss looked questioningly at his father as if he had missed something.

“I think you better go with him Hoss.” Ben tilted his head to indicate the way. “In fact, he’s got me fairly curious myself.” Ben rose and followed Hoss on the path of Adam’s heels.

They found Adam standing on one side of the table trying to swivel it around to the side. Ben and Hoss both picked up the other end and helped move the table clear of the rug.

Charlie’s curiosity brought him from in front of the fireplace to stand alongside Ben.

As soon as they had the table turned, Adam got on his knees and started rolling up the blue rag rug. He began scrutinizing the flooring until one of the pine wood knots embedded in a wood plank caught his attention. He poked at it until it popped free giving him the handhold he was looking for. Sticking his hand into the hole he pulled up on the piece of wood and a whole section of joined wood planks began to rise up. Adam could hardly keep the triumphant grin off his face.

Hoss stared in total amazement as his brother began to push the wood covering aside and then quickly bent down to help him. The four of them found themselves staring down into an area roughly measuring about four feet wide by six feet long and two feet deep. The sunken timber-lined interior was filled with all types of material possessions and firearms. The Cartwrights immediately began to identify and pull their own belongings from the pile.

“How did ya know it was here Adam?” Hoss asked as he unwound his gunbelt from the pile and pulled it free. He pulled the revolver from the holster and checked it over. Everything seemed to be in good shape.

“I can’t really explain it, I just suddenly knew. Here’s your saddlebag Pa.” Adam tossed the worn leather pouches over to his father, then reached back in to pull out another familiar one. “And here’s Joes.”

“At least we’ve got some extra clothes for him now.” Ben was relieved at one less problem for his son.

“Here’s your rifle Adam, and Joe’s Colt.” Hoss pulled the ivory handled six-shooter out of the mix searching for the distinct left-handed holster that went with it.

Having recovered all of their gear, they looked over the rather large collection of items still left. Tossed among the larger tools and weaponry were billfolds and documents, pocket watches, knick-knacks and even some jewelry pieces.

“How are we gonna know who this all belongs to?”

“Let’s have Reed come up here at first light with a couple of men and they can handle the distribution. If anything is in doubt or dispute, we’ll just hold onto it until later. It should help get everyone off to a good start.”

“Charlie, you alright?” Hoss suddenly noticed how still and quiet the older man had become next to him. Charlie was staring intently down at something he held gently in his hands.

“I’m alright Hoss. Just can’t believe this is still here.” Charlie opened the palm of his hand to show the Cartwright family. It was a carved toy horse made from soft pinewood exquisite in its detail especially the mane and tail.

“It’s beautiful Charlie.” Hoss recognized the fine workmanship of a skilled craftsman having toyed himself in the art of whittling. He had a fair enough hand but knew he would never be a master at it. “Is it yours?”

“Yes, it was going to be a gift for my granddaughter.” Charlie announced simply.

Hoss whistled, “You mean you made that!”

“How old is your granddaughter Charlie?” Ben asked.

“I was going to give this to Jenny on her fourth birthday so she’d probably be about five by now. She is the prettiest little girl you ever saw with big blue eyes and long blonde hair and she absolutely loves her horses. That’s why I made this for her. My son and his wife live over in Carson City and I was on my way there when I was taken. They must think I’m dead now.” Charlie said remorsefully.

“Well we’re gonna make sure you get there Charlie. That little girl is goin’ see her grandpa again, I guarantee ya.” Hoss promised.

Charlie nodded his thanks to this family for being so kind to him and helping him recover a very precious part of his life.

“Let’s put the cover back on this hole for now and take our stuff into the bedroom so we know where it is.” Ben advised. “I want to get back to Joe and Adam I also want to discuss your plans for us in the morning.

“Adam, I’d like to offer the men breakfast in the morning, nothing special, just coffee, canned fruit, salt pork and biscuits. We could set up an area on the porch to dish out the food when the men come up here in the morning to see if any of that stuff belongs to them.”

“Charlie, that’s a great idea. Now please try and get some rest, we really only have a couple hours left and it’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” Ben touched Charlie on the shoulder as he headed for the bedroom.

“Mr. Cartwright, would you please keep this in your saddlebag for me?” Charlie asked almost reluctant to give up the carved horse.

“Of course Charlie, anytime you want it, we’ll get it for you.”

On the way into the bedroom, Hoss had picked up one of the dining room chairs and brought it with him.

“Don’t want no more accidents.” Hoss explained as he set the chair down next to his fathers.

Ben reached out and held his hand to the forehead of his still sleeping son checking on the strength of his fever.

“Holding steady,” Ben advised his other sons. “Still a little warm but doesn’t seem to have risen any more.”

“Hoss, you know Nick, the young kid who came up here earlier to help Charlie?” Adam asked as he stretched out his legs on the side of the bed opposite Joe, being careful not to jostle him, and leaned back against the headboard.

“Yeah, he’s the one that lives out near Dawson.”

“I finally got a chance to talk to him some more about Dawson tonight. Seems his family has a small farm on the outskirts of town. They’ve lived there most of his life. His brother is actually one of the acting deputies for the sheriff, so his family knows just about everybody. He said they do have a doctor in town, been there about five years, a Dr. Wilson I believe.”

“That is good news Adam.” Ben sighed in relief.

“He also said there are about three other men in this camp who are from Dawson, although I haven’t met them yet. One of them is a Mr. Banks, an older man, who used to be a court clerk there.

“Well based on what yer saying Adam we should have no problem gettin’ the folk in Dawson ta help us when we all come strollin’ in.”

“Yes, once they get over the shock, which is what I want to talk to you about Pa. How would you feel if I had Hoss and Nick ride on ahead? With luck, they could reach Dawson almost a full day ahead of us and make some preparations for our arrival. If Nick agrees to go with Hoss there should be no problem getting the sheriff to believe our story. The only drawback is that Hoss won’t be here to help you and Joe.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem if Joe continues to improve.” Ben affirmed.

“It’s a great idea Adam. Nick can ride Cochise and if’n we get there early enough, maybe we can talk the townsfolk inta sendin’ some additional horses and wagons out to meet the group.” Hoss suggested. “It won’t be like Pa is alone, yer’ gonna be there Adam and Charlie will help. Who are you thinking of putting in the wagon ‘sides Joe and Pa?”

“Well at first I thought I was going to put the Judge’s deputies in there as they would probably slow us down going over the mountains, but I’ve changed my mind. With all the supplies we’ll have on board and laying Joe down, there isn’t going to be that much room left. A couple of them really need to ride, like Scottie with that bum ankle. I originally was planning on having you drive the wagon Hoss, but now I think I’ll put your friend Dean up there as the driver, with his background as a livery owner and blacksmith, he can handle the team just fine over the pass and then I’ll put Charlie alongside him riding shotgun. The horses I haven’t totally figured out yet. After I take Sport and give Reed Buck, there are only four riding stock horses left. Reed also told me we’re short a few saddles.”

“You might just have to wait till tomorrow and see how it all pans out.” Ben advised.

“That’s exactly the point I’m at.” Adam agreed. “But I’d like Hoss to personally go down to the corral early tomorrow morning and make sure all the Ponderosa horses get saddled with their own gear and our saddlebags. Not that I don’t trust the men, but no one knows our horses like you do Hoss and it will give you a chance to look them over. I didn’t get the chance to do that tonight before it got dark.”

“I sure will Adam and I’ll also help Charlie and Dean pack the food supplies in the wagon and lay out a spot for Joe so that is somethin’ ya won’t have to worry about.”

The Cartwright family stayed together for the short remainder of the night.

* * *

Chapter 5 (Tuesday)

Tuesday – 5:00 am – Let’s Get This Show On The Road

Adam and Hoss left the cabin slightly before dawn, parting their ways as Hoss headed down to the horse corral and Adam to the guard tents.

Reed took note of Adam’s freshly shaved face and clean black shirt as well as the rifle Adam now carried in his hand and the black gun belt he wore as easily as his own skin, the dulled tooled leather blending perfectly against the black fabric of his pants. “You look like a new man this morning Adam and you’ve got some new accessories.”

“I’m beginning to feel like one too. Adam quickly explained their findings last night, and the new plans his family had drawn up; purposely omitting the discovery of the mined gold. It was a family decision that the existence of both the gold and the ledger book be kept undisclosed for now.

“That’s terrific Adam. Now that we’ve got some more fire power to hand out, we can increase the number of guards.”

“Yes, but I’d still appreciate your recommendations on just which men you trust because as we know just because a man owns a rifle, it doesn’t make him trustworthy with a trigger.”

“I’ll give you my best choices but we’ve still got some angry men. Let’s hope nobody decides to take on their own brand of justice. Suppose they’ll get their chance to prove themselves during the next couple days. After we finish here, I’ll head up to the cabin and set up the distribution; that should bring a few extra smiles today.”

* * * * *

The Cartwright horses raised their heads seemingly happy to see Hoss; Chubb especially, as he nosed at Hoss’ vest pocket looking for a treat from his owner. Hoss petted and checked over the Ponderosa stock until he was satisfied that all four horses were still sound and in good condition. All of their riding paraphernalia had been accounted for and had been delivered down to the corral. Hoss gave special attention to Billie’s horse recalling how excited and anxious their young ranch hand had been at getting home as fast as they could from the cattle drive in order to move up the date of his wedding and now Hoss wondered sadly how he was going to tell pretty little Katie that Billie wasn’t coming home; that he had been shot down in cold blood by these men. At least, Hoss thought bitter sweetly there would be some justice for Billie. Hoss personally finished saddling each of their horses and then tethered them to the back of the wagon.

From the remaining riding stock only one was claimed by a freed prisoner. He like, the Cartwrights, had been brought into camp recently and was counting himself fortunate that his stock and gear had not yet been sold.

The balance of the animals belonged to John Harkins which included two more riding stock and two harness horses. All of these were underfed and unkempt, apparently had been over a long period of time but Dean, who oversaw their preparation this morning declared there was no reason why they could not make the trip. Nick helped the blacksmith fasten the wagon traces over the wide haunches of the pulling team.

Hoss patted down the withers of the gray harness horse. “If you fellows are about done here, I’d like to take Nick to help me bring down some blankets and whatever Charlie has ready to go.”

“We’ll both give you a hand.” Dean offered as he buckled the last bridle into place.

The smell of fried pork and hot coffee greeted them as the three men walked back up the hill to the front of the cabin. In the morning sunlight, the porch was a buzz with activity. The table from inside the cabin had been moved out onto the porch and the gear that had been buried under the flooring was laid out on display. Rifles and tools lined the porch wall. Only a handful of men were still rummaging through the table items making claims for themselves or recognizing the belongings of someone they specifically knew while others came to grips with the understanding that their cherished items were probably gone forever.

The men who had sorted through the table goods milled about on the narrow strip of front yard conversing while juggling a cup of coffee and a tin plate of food. Ben leaned up against one of the porch pillars talking with a couple of the men watching the morning proceedings. He, like Adam, had taken a fresh shave earlier that morning and put on a clean blue shirt under his tan leather vest. His carved gun belt hung snugly around his hips. Except for the dark circles under his eyes, which were hidden by the brim of his hat, he looked more like the Ben Cartwright most people knew. He lifted his chin to acknowledge Hoss’ return. Accepting an offered cup of coffee from someone, Hoss crossed the front porch to join his father, his boot heels clicking across the dry, gray-weathered wood planks.

“Looks like most of the stuff is being claimed,” Hoss commented as he got a closer view of the table’s now slimmer pickings.

“Yes, it seems to be giving everyone an extra boost this morning. I know there are some who are disappointed but hopefully there’s nothing that can’t be replaced. If there is anything left over that’s not of a personal nature, Reed’s just going to have a free-for-all.”

One of the men standing alongside Ben showed off a finely honed hunting knife that was sheathed in a worn leather casing. “My best friend gave this me this here knife just before he headed up to Oregon, haven’t ever been without it till now. Frank was always pesterin’ me to go up there with him and now I’m standin’ here wonderin’ why in heavens name I didn’t, more I think on it more it’s soundin’ like a mighty good idea. Kinda lost my taste for this territory anyway.”

“Beautiful country, Oregon,” Ben confirmed as Nick and Dean joined the small group. “I think your friend would welcome your company.”

“Look what I found Hoss!” Nick held up a razor sharp authentic Indian arrowhead, his young face beaming with excitement. “I was just a kid when my brothers took me on my first trip to an Indian settlement and I was so excited when I found this. It was almost as fun to find it over there on the table and I also got my dad’s old pistol back. He’ll be real happy to know I haven’t lost it.”

“I think your Pa is just going to be happy to have his son back again.” Ben could only imagine the grief this young man’s father must have gone through the past four months.

Ben turned to his own son, “Hoss, are we about ready to go?”

“Just about Pa, but I need some extra blankets, to try and cushion that hard wagon bed a bit. Thought about using the hay down at the corral but it ain’t too clean.”

“What about all those blankets Reed and Adam handed out last night, the new ones they found in storage. You could keep them in the wagon and hand them back tonight when we make camp.

“Yeah, that otta work, give us more than enough padding.”

“Actually Hoss,” one of the men offered. “Reed had someone gather those up from us this morning, maybe he was thinking something just like that.”

“You can go check with Reed in a minute.” Ben told Hoss. “I’d like you to come on inside. There are a few things I want to show you first.”

In the cabin, four crates of supplies had already been bundled up and stacked in the corner. “These supplies here are what Charlie put together for the wagon.” Ben explained, before pointing at a separate pile. “These things here can go with Joe.” The pile included Joe’s saddlebag, his hat, gun belt and couple of the Cartwright canteens. “I filled his saddlebag with fresh bandages, clean cloths, some medical tools and a small flask of whiskey.”

Hoss looked over everything then turned to Nick and Dean. “Fellows, you can start takin’ all this down ta the wagon. Dean, when you see Reed, ask him about the blankets and remind him to tell anyone who’s got a canteen to git it filled ‘fore we leave. You can let him know we got a small barrel of water on board for cookin’ and drinkin’.”

“We’ve got it covered Hoss, go on and help your Pa with your brother.”

“Thanks fellows. Tell Adam we’ll be down in about fifteen minutes.”

Ben had laid out Joe’s extra set of clean clothes on the bed, waiting as long as possible before waking his son knowing that there would be little chance of rest on the bumpy trail but now, they needed to leave.

“Joe, son,” Ben called as he caressed the side of his son’s face running his thumb in a gentle sweep over the chiseled cheekbone. Joe turned his head slightly moving into his father’s hand, his eyes still un-open. Ben called again this time slightly shaking Joe’s good arm. “Joe, you’ve got to wake up now, time to get dressed.” Joe’s leg moved slightly as his body responded to his father’s call. A few moments later, Joe’s eyes opened but still doped with sleep quickly fluttered shut again.

The word dressed did not make any sense to his dulled brain. He did not even have the strength to move and when he did, it caused severe waves of discomfort. He felt the blankets being pulled aside exposing his near naked flesh to the cold air in the room.

“No . . .” was the only word Joe had the energy to express for all the things he was feeling.

“Little Joe, you got a lot of men outside waitin’ on ya.” Hoss encouraged his brother while hating the fact that they had to do this to him. He picked up a pair of Joe’s clean socks and quickly slipped them on Joe’s bare feet. Together Hoss and his father each took one of Joe’s pant legs and eased them on and up over his slim hips. Joe bit his lip trying to stifle his cries at being moved about.

“I left his belt in his saddlebag,” Ben explained. “He doesn’t need it, the less constriction on his stomach the better. I also changed the dressing and tightened the bandage strips so they should be alright for a while longer.”

Ben unfolded the clean tan shirt he held in his hands and slipped the left sleeve up and over Joe’s left arm bringing it to the shoulder.

Just that little bit of movement in his left arm sent a fierce pain shooting through him quickly replacing Joe’s sleepiness.

“Joe, I’ve got to lift you up a bit now to slip the shirt under you.” Ben slid his arm under his son’s shoulders lifting him from the bed and awkwardly leaned him against his own shoulder for support. This time Joe’s could not bite back his cry and it cut through Ben like a knife.

“Sorry Joe.” Ben tried to steel himself against his own emotions. He could not afford to turn soft now; it was only the beginning of a very long day. He pulled the shirt around Joe’s back and finished slipping his other arm into it and then lowered him back to the bed. Leaving the shirt un-tucked, he pulled the two front panels together and began buttoning the garment upwards until the thickness of the bandages impeded his progress.

The pain the movement had caused left Joe panting and breathless.

“Let him rest for a minute.” Ben told Hoss knowing there was not much else he could offer his son in terms of comfort. “Hoss, I want to give you these telegrams I wrote out last night. Once you get to Dawson, I’d like you to send them as soon as you can, especially the one to the Territorial Governor.”

“I will Pa.” Hoss folded the written telegrams carefully and placed them in his inside vest pocket.

“And Hoss, Adam packed your saddlebag just like we talked about last night.” Hoss sensed Ben was still unhappy with the decision.

“Pa, it’s safer this way for all of you.”

“I’m not sure I’m convinced yet but I do know you are still my son and I’m going to worry about you until I see you again in two days.”

“Hoss smiled. “I think ya got another son who is gonna be demandin’ mosta your attention, you aren’t gonna have any time left over to worry.”

“I’ve had a lifetime of worrying about all three of my boys, I’m not about to stop now.”

A knock at the bedroom door brought their conversation to an end, which Hoss opened to reveal a waiting Dean and Charlie.

“We’re about ready Hoss.” Dean informed him. “Anything else you want us to do?”

“Yeah, actually there is. Charlie, if you could help Pa with those rifles on the bed and Dean, if’n you would help me with Joe. I figure between the two of us we kin manage to get him down to the wagon.”

Hoss squatted down alongside the mattress.

Joe looked up trustingly at his larger brother. He had been awake enough now to comprehend a little of what was happening. They were leaving and he was going with them. His body quavered at the thought of being moved again but his mind was glad to be leaving this territory with its ugly memories at last.

“Ready to get out of here?” Hoss asked his brother, hoping the excitement of leaving would overshadow the discomfort of the move.

“I can walk Hoss.” Joe declared mortified of his brother’s intentions when he felt a strong arm slide beneath the small of his back. He was acutely aware of the two visitors in the room.

“I know ya can.” Hoss humored him as he assisted him to a sitting position. “Just hopin’ you wanted the pleasure of my company while we made our way down to the wagon, seein’ as how yer goin’ be missin’ me somethin’ awful the next two days.”

Joe looked up at Hoss anxiously, afraid something had gone wrong again in the camp. “Where you going Hoss?”

Hoss quickly averted his worries. “Now just settle yerself. I’m gonna go bring us back some help and some more horses. Jest ‘cause Adam’s lettin’ you ride in that nice cushy wagon don’t mean the rest of the men gotta like walkin’ does it?”

Joe sighed and relaxed, Hoss was going to come back. Reassured, he indicated to Hoss he was ready.

Draping Joe’s right arm securely around his shoulders, Hoss pulled Joe to a standing position. Instantly lightheaded he began to tremble unsteadily until his brother immediately pulled him tight to his side providing a solid pillar to lean against. Dean moved to lend support on Joe’s left side being careful not to touch the tender arm that Ben had encased in a silk sling he found among the medical supplies.

“Joe, are ya alright?” Hoss voiced his concern looking at his brother’s pale features, wanting very much to just pick Joe up and be done with it but knowing how Joe would feel about being carried through the throng of men stationed outside.

“Nothing is going to make it any easier, let’s just go.” Ben said picking up the saddlebags belonging to Hoss and himself.

Stepping out onto the porch into the still milling crowd of men, a welcoming round of raised voices greeted them.

“Hear that Joe?” Hoss asked, stopping for a minute to let Joe take in the men’s spontaneous display of gratitude. “The men are sayin’ good morning to you.”

Even though Joe could do little more than render half a nod, he did feel buoyed by the wash of encouragement.

Reed had asked the men to wait at the cabin until he gave the direction to move. He and Adam had thought it would be less confusion to get Hoss and Nick on their way first.

Hoss and Dean slowly descended the small but steep hill with Joe between them, each labored step washing more color from his face as they made their way to the corral with Charlie and Ben trailing behind. Adam was up in the wagon, perched on a side panel, talking with Nick.

At the wagon Dean and Hoss chair lifted Joe aboard where Adam assisted him down onto the blankets that had been set crosswise down behind the driver’s seat and eased a small pillow up behind his head.

Checking to make sure the short trip had caused no additional damage, he patted Joe’s arm. “Sounded like you got quite the curtain call up there this morning,” Adam remarked as he grabbed up one of the loose blankets and draped it over his brother.

“Was nice,” Joe nodded slowly. “But not … need thanks.”

“Well if’n you don’t want thanks, maybe ya’ll settle for a purty nursemaid instead.” Hoss countered. “I’ll see what I can rustle up when I get inta town.”

Joe shook his head. “You’re … purty … e’nuff Hoss.”

Hoss grinned. “Adam, ya better hurry and git this young’un to that doctor. Wound’s affectin’ his eyesight.”

Ben tied Hoss’ saddlebag to the back of his saddle and slipped the Winchester rifles belonging to Joe and Hoss into the empty sheaths that were affixed to their saddles then climbed into the wagon bed.

Adam showed Ben how he had nailed the side of a blanket along the top edge of the driver’s backrest. “Pa, you can stretch this blanket down to those two nails embedded on either side of the wagon frame and it’ll create a slanted shade canopy.”

“Thank you son. Now that Joe’s set, I think it’s time for Hoss and Nick to get underway. Either of you need anything?”

“No sir. I’m just real grateful you’re letting me go with Hoss. I’ll take real good care of Joe’s horse I promise.”

“That is one promise we all need you to keep,” Adam said in mock seriousness. “If you don’t we will never hear the end of it.”

“Puts a little pressure on a guy doesn’t it?” Nick responded good-heartedly.

“Well yer’re the one we’re gonna be grateful to when we finally reach Dawson.” Hoss ruffled the light brown hair of the young man standing next to him.

Ben shook the young man’s hand and then Hoss’ while clasping the top part of his arm, “Take care son. We’ll be looking for you on the other side.”

Hoss pursed his lips together hard until the bottom of his chin crumpled up. It was harder than he thought it was going to be to leave his family, especially Joe.

Hoss and Nick walked to the end of the wagon and un-tethered Chubb and Cochise. Hoss reined his black Morgan to a stop on the side of the wagon where Joe’s head lay. “You get better little brother, don’t ya be no problem to Pa and Adam now. I love ya.”

And then Hoss followed by Nick guided his horse down the road and was out of sight.

* * * * *

Leaning on forearms that crossed his saddle horn, reins in hand, Adam waited off to the side of the small rocky road, as the collection of men began to move forward. Many things had tried to impede their progress this morning but, finally, they were underway.

Riding point was Hank, a roughly bearded mountain man with long straight black hair held back by a cuff of rawhide. Under his soiled deerskin shirt, his skin was weathered from having constantly battled the elements of nature. Hank had been specifically chosen as lead man, as he was familiar with passageways that would best suit this odd collection of travelers; his knowledge gained from ten years of trapping and hunting this part of the territory.

Adam and Reed had to talk hard and fast to even get Hank to stay on and take the job. He had been more than ready to walk the moment his shackles were dropped. Six months of capture had only enhanced his desire to return to his solitary lifestyle. But with no one else familiar to the mountain region this side of Dawson, Adam negotiated a deal. In exchange for Hank’s services as a guide, Adam would stake him with a new pack mule and supplies when they reached Dawson.

The supply wagon had been strategically placed at the front of the line not only to set the pace for the rest of the group but also to guide Hank in making any determinations regarding the width and steepness of the trails he chose. Behind the wagon, the men gathered, a small group of armed volunteer guards kept the apprehended deputies closely surrounded; the heavy chains having been replaced with the lighter rope binding. At the rear, John Harkins sat stiffly atop one of his own horses being bound both hand and foot into his saddle; two mounted guards rode on either side of him. Reed gave one final check to the bindings of the camp’s fallen leader and then mounted Ben’s horse, Buck. Riding ramrod, he made himself available as a third guard. With everyone in position, Adam was left to ride and mingle freely anywhere along the line wherever he might be needed.

By ten o’clock the group had already navigated some very difficult climbs but as yet there had not been one complaint. All of the men were completely focused on helping each other make it along and teamwork was very apparent everywhere that Adam looked. After a lengthy cooling down break, and a change of guards, the men rose again more than ready to move on.

Ben, still concerned about Farley’s state of mind had tried to keep him as close to them today as he could; asking Adam to even let Farley ride in the wagon. Ben had been relieved to observe that Farley appeared much calmer than yesterday. So far Farley had not mentioned the Judge once, it was almost as if he had purposely erased his mind clean of the man who had thoroughly devastated his life. In deference to Farley’s wishes Ben stayed clear of any reference to the man and while Joe had slept, he had talked to Ben about his wife Sara and the life they had together before coming out West. Ben learned that Farley still had family back in Missouri including a couple of brothers and he was thinking about going back home. Still Ben felt something wasn’t right, he felt that maybe this subdued frame of mind was possibly a tactic Farley was resorting back to; a trick he used just to mentally stay alive in the camp. Nothing short of time and justice would be able to bring real peace to this man’s soul.

Ben would not mind a little bit of that justice himself as he checked on Joe. Joe had slept a good portion of the morning, despite the rocking motion of the wagon and was actually doing better than they had all expected. The low-grade fever was still present but it had not risen. Around one o’clock when the group had stopped for a well-deserved mid-day break, Joe woke up. His eyes were clear and unclouded as he began surfacing into the world around him. Beneath the shade canopy affixed over Joe’s makeshift bed patches of bright sunlight filtered through the cracks. He could hear his Pa’s voice on the other side of the covering talking to someone. Feeling a bit suffocated by the sweltering heat that had built up inside the shelter Joe used his right hand to push the blanket down from his body and called to his father. Ben unfastened the ends of the canopy and flipped it open to fall back behind the driver’s backrest.

“Thanks.” Joe said appreciatively now able to see the blue-sky overhead and realizing they must have traveled some distance since he was taken to the wagon earlier that day.

“Well, look who’s awake.” Adam said as he rode up to the side of the wagon and noticed Joe drinking heavily from the canteen their father held for him.

“Hey Adam,” Joe acknowledged as his father took the canteen. “Where are we?”

“We’re heading for a place called Dawson.” Adam answered. “Be there sometime tomorrow. How’s that wagon treating you?”

“Fine, I guess, but I’ve mostly been asleep.”

“I have noticed it’s been rather quiet this trip.”

“Adam . . .” Ben interjected.

“Sorry Joe.” Adam apologized realizing the repartee that he had started was only a disguise on how relieved he felt at seeing how alert Joe looked. “Really, how are you feeling kid?”

“Okay if I could just get my chest and my arm numbed up. If you see a saloon somewhere along the way, maybe you can drop me off.”

“The only drink you are going to have young man is whatever medicine the Doctor prescribes for you.” Ben looked at his son sternly although in the back of his mind he knew he would not hesitate to give Joe a shot of whiskey from the flash he had tucked away if he believed Joe really needed it. He had been planning on giving him some tonight anyway.

“Charlie seems to have fed everybody.” Ben noticed looking around at the scattered groups of men who held small full plates in their hands, “Any problems?”

“No, none. It’s a cooperative group of men. There hasn’t been one complaint and the guards we chose have been fairly diligent with their duties. Wouldn’t mind hiring some extra help to take back to the Ponderosa.”

“You just want to get out of harvesting that hay when we get home.” Ben replied knowing the job was not a favorite among any of his sons or himself for that matter.

“Can’t blame a man for trying.”

Reed rode up to the wagon to have a word with Adam and, shortly thereafter, they rode off together to take care of something.

“Pa, can you help me sit up for a while.” Joe asked, not wanting to tell his father that pains were radiating around his side and down under his back; pains that he knew were just an extension from his wounded shoulder. He felt if he could just adjust his position, he might be able to route some of the sharper trails to a point that were more manageable.

“Joe, I don’t think that is such a good idea. It would be best if you just try and go back to sleep.”

“I only want to take a look around, see how the men are getting along, then I’ll try and sleep again in a little bit.”

Ben nodded in understanding. His son had certainly earned the right to see what he had accomplished. “Alright, we’ll lean the pillow up against the side of the wagon and I’ll help you scoot up against it, but that’s as far as you’re going.”

Once the move had been accomplished and the pressure lifted causing the back pain to lessen for the time being, Joe gratefully thanked his father.

In spite of the doubts Ben had at moving his son about, receiving that smile alone was worth it.

Tuesday – 3:00 pm –You Never Know Who’s Watching

High on a hilltop under cover of scrub brush, two men lay on their bellies watching the road below. From their view they were able to see several miles in either direction.

“There’s a heap of movement and dust comin’ up that mountain pass. Too far away to make ‘em out yet but ain’t no way we can travel on the road till they’ve passed. You ain’t supposin’ all those men out there are gunnin’ for us?” Walt asked suspiciously.

Sean sighed with frustration, his patience waning thin. “No, but if you don’t settle down you’re gonna draw their attention and then you will have something to be jumpy about. You know as well as I do there hasn’t been a single sign for the past two days that anyone from Virginia City followed us up into these mountains. That big crew down there on the road is no posse. You ever see a posse walking like that?”

“No. I reckon yer right, but with that bunch holdin’ us up like this, we ain’t gonna make it up to the Judge’s camp, git those extra men and git back to Virginia City before the circuit judge comes round.” Walt’s voiced skepticism grated further into Sean’s frayed nerves. “Steve was just plain dumb getting himself caught like that. There were too many witnesses to us robbin’ that bank.”

“One more word like that and I’ll leave you rotting in that cell in Steve’s place and you won’t have to worry about your cut of the money.” Sean snapped. If it has not been for the insistence and pleading of his younger brother, Sean would never have included Walt in any of their recent activities. He had never fully trusted the drifter and after the bungled heist back at the bank, not only had proved his nagging doubts, but he now had the additional burden of keeping both of them clear of the pursing lawmen while Steve paid the consequences of his friend’s ineptness.

“Didn’t mean nothing by it Sean.” Walt answered contritely.

Sean decided to just let the matter go, he needed Walt’s help too much for now and turned his attention back to the oncoming caravan. “I just wonder what that group is up to? It sort of looks like they’re transporting supplies but even that cargo wagon up front just has more men in it.”

“Makes me scratch having that many men under our nose.”

“If you don’t like scratchin’, you should a backed out before we took out that bank in Reno.”

“I can take care of myself, just wanna know who they are and what they’re doing way out here?” Walt lowered his voice as the group began passing on the road almost directly beneath them.

“You know some of those fellows are lookin’ kinda familiar.” Sean lifted his head suddenly more alert. “It can’t be; it just can’t be! It’s impossible.”

“What’s the matter Sean?” Walt poked his head up trying to get a better view.

“See those four guys coming by right now near the end of the group?” Sean pointed out. “That’s the Judge and his deputies and they ain’t being taken friendly like. Hell – this ain’t good. Men holdin’ rifles on ‘em are the same ones used to be prisoners up at the camp.”

“Somethin’ bad musta happened up there, to let all them prisoners free. They’ll turn the Judge in for sure and if’n they do they might find out we’ve been doin’ business with him. It ain’t just bank robbin’ they’ll be wanting our necks for. What we goin’ do Sean? We gotta stop ‘em.”

“Use your brains stupid, how are we goin’ stop twenty five, thirty men?”

“I don’t know.” Walt shrugged.

“Then hush up, I gotta think this here though, wouldn’t be no point going up to the mining camp now. We’re going to have to follow them men down there for a spell till we can figure this out. Can’t let them haul the Judge into no law office that’s for darn sure.”

Tuesday – 6:00 pm –Are We There Yet?

The procession had just descended one of the steepest hills so far. At the bottom of the decent, on the right side of the wide trail, the land leveled out creating a few acres of fairly even ground.

Adam instructed Dean to stop, which caused the group to bunch up behind the wagon. As the last of the riders closed the gap, Reed spurred his heel to the flank of his horse and rode up alongside the stopped leaders.

“How are we doing on time Hank?” Adam inquired from the trail guide.

“Pace we’re going, it’s probably another nine-ten hours to reach Dawson. But the good news is the hardest part is behind us, from here on out the hills are a lot easier to get over.”

“What do you think Adam – time to call it a night?” Reed sought direction for their next move.

“I don’t believe we’ll find a more suitable area for a campsite.” Adam affirmed. “And if we do stop now the extra rest will help us get on the road tomorrow at a decent time. We might even be able to reach Dawson by early afternoon. Men tasted freedom today and that kept them moving quickly; but they’re exhausted even if they won’t admit it.”

“Hey, I have no problem admitting it.” Reed replied enthusiastically. “I’m bushed and this place is a garden compared to what we left. Don’t suppose there’s much of a water source around here but between what the men got in their canteens and what we got on the wagon, should be enough. Plenty of provisions on board too, no reason to waste more energy tracking game.”

“Let’s just get them settled then. Dean, pull that wagon into that grove.”

* * * * *

By the seven o’clock hour camp had been made. Accustomed to an outdoor life, this crew had very little trouble making the hard ground into a comfortable workable setting for the evening.

Reed set several men to task gathering firewood from the perimeter of the site. Wood was needed for Charlie’s cooking fires and to create several littler warming ones that would be spaced among the men.

To Charlie’s surprise, Farley came forward and offered assistance in getting supper started. Charlie, not one to refuse any offer of help, soon put him to work unpacking supplies and beginning supper preparations that would feed the group of hungry, well-exercised men.

When Reed returned to fetch a portion of the blankets for distribution, Joe took the opportunity to see if his father would allow him to climb down from the wagon, knowing his request was going to be met with resistance.

Ben shook his head, as Joe had known he would. “Absolutely not, moving around is the last thing you need to be doing.” Ben helped his son slide his arms into the sleeves of his green corduroy jacket.

“Pa, it’s not like I’m going to run a race or anything.” Joe persisted when Ben also refused to hand Joe his boots. “I just want to stand up for a couple of minutes. I’m all cramped up from being in this wagon box.”

“Joe I let you sit up against my better judgment.”

“And I did fine, didn’t I? And you’ve checked me for fever so many times I think you’ve worn the skin off my forehead.” Joe instantly regretted his flippant remark, he knew his father was worried about him, but the constant never-ending circulation of pain throughout his chest and left arm had made him edgy to the point he was barely able to focus on anything other than getting through the next few minutes without expressing his distress. Usually so fiercely self-reliant, he was also having a hard time allowing all these men to witness him in such a weakened state and the more his father hovered the more frustrated he was feeling with his own limited mobility.

“You’re doing a lot better than I would have believed.” Ben grudgingly admitted although he remained dead set against the idea. “But Joe, your body has been through tremendous stress, you need rest.”

Joe figured he’d have to appeal to Ben’s practical nature if he was going to have any hope of swaying his father.

“Pa, it will be a lot warmer if we move over near Charlie’s station.” And as if he had summoned it to emphasize his appeal, a blast of wind rose up, rippling it’s way across the open land, laying touch to everything within it’s path and leaving behind a bitter iciness that chilled them to their very core.

Ben had to concede that Joe had a point as he tightened his own tan overcoat. Originally he thought the wagon would make a smoother surface for a bed than the rocky ground but was quickly realizing that not even the raised side panels would do much to block the elements of nature. Being able to draw from the warmth of the fire would be a much better choice in terms of comfort.

“When Reed comes back he can help me lift you out of the wagon.”

“No!” Immediately Joe’s streak of independence flared. “I can do this on my own.” And in an effort to prove something more to himself than his father, Joe began to slowly scoot along the wagon floor using his bent legs and hips to propel him forward, each movement creating strong pressure throughout his tender abdomen and chest. In an effort to still the internal ache, Joe stopped to cradle his left arm closer to his chest holding it in place with his right hand.

“Joe, if you just let me help you.” Ben tried again.

“I can do this.” Joe beseeched for more time.

“What’s going on here Pa?” Joe instantly recognized the voice and became further irritated.

“Nothing Adam, I’m fine!” The inflection of Joe’s voice did nothing to hide his pain and frustration. He could not understand how come it was so difficult to cross a few feet of lumber without turning into a trembling leaf.

Adam glanced sideways at his father for an explanation to Joe’s outburst.

“I agreed to make up a bed for Joe closer to the cook fire.” Ben explained to Adam. “But he insists on getting out of the wagon by himself.”

Of course he does Adam thought to himself, all too familiar with Joe’s reluctance to admit he needed help of any kind. “Pa, go lay out the blankets and I’ll bring him over.”

Adam knew that reasoning with Joe at this point was usually a fruitless effort. Instead he just reached in and pulled him down to the open end of the wagon before he had a chance to react, then stretched back in to grab up his discarded boots. The youngest Cartwright closed his eyes in aggravated embarrassment while he waited for Adam to slide them on for him. “Okay Joe, you want some assistance to walk over to the fire or shall I just throw you over my shoulder?” Adam asked knowing full well which choice he was going to make despite his unwillingness to accept the offer.

“I’ll walk.” Joe answered testily; acutely aware that his heightened irritability was on display for several of the nearby men, but he didn’t care. “As far as I know my legs aren’t broke.”

Tuesday 6:30 pm – Pass The Binoculars

Sean and Walt tied their horses several yards away from the camp using the cover of the trees to keep themselves out of view. Silently they observed the travelers’ activities as they settled down for the night while assessing who the main leaders were. The tall, straight-shouldered, man dressed in dark clothing seemed to walk the camp with an air of authority; the same way he had ridden his horse along the road procession. This man’s face was unfamiliar to them but they had seen the person who walked beside him many times before. He was one of the Judge’s longest surviving prisoners.

“Awful lot of security Sean.” Walt observed the separate area where the Judge and his three deputies had been clustered, their feet now tied as well as their hands and the three guards who stood watch.

“Security isn’t what I’m worried about. It’s getting our hands on those extra horses; without ‘em there’d be no point in breaking the Judge loose. Our own nags are done in after we out rode that Virginia City posse; they can’t handle any extra passengers.”

“That ain’t so easy Sean, all them horses are tethered down behind that wagon and they’ve all been unsaddled. Ain’t gonna git far without no saddles.”

Sean’s sat back on his heels unconcerned and pulled his pistol from his holster. “How’s your ammunition holding?”

“You’re crazy Sean,” Walt snapped. “There’s too many of them and a good lot are toting, they’ll take us out before we even get to the Judge.”

Sean calmly replied to his partner’s outburst. “I suppose we’ll have to make a few bargains then.”

“That tall guy looks like he’s a handful Sean.” Walt replied knowing where Sean’s thoughts were headed. “It’s the third time he’s checked around the camp since we’ve been here. He ain’t missin’ nothing.”

“Eventually he’ll settle down. Now that his little chickens are all tucked in, he’s spending more and more time back at the wagon talking to that older fellow. Seems like he’s got a real interest in them. I’ll wager he’s our best bargaining chip, but we’re gonna have to wait until after dark to play this game out, might as well make yourself comfortable.”

Tuesday – 9:30 pm –A Pot Stirred

Heavy dense clouds had rolled-in with the setting of the sun obscuring the night sky and pitching the region into almost total blackness. It was only by the glow of the various campfires that the men were able to even make out the shadowy forms of each other.

“Dark night; can’t even see my own hands.” Reed commented as Adam came by to collect the dinner tins they had used to feed their prisoners.

“Cold too,” Adam agreed, although he knew he was luckier than most; his warm coat having been located among their found possessions. He instructed the two guards working with Reed to go over to Charlie’s campfire and get their last cup of coffee before it was tossed out. Grateful for the invitation, they offered to take the dirty dishes back with them.

“Hard to believe we were all complaining about the heat a few hours ago.” Reed wrung his hands together blowing on them slightly. “You’d think with it being the middle of July we’d be enjoying a nice summer evening but tonight even the stars are barely visible.”

“It was a good decision to bring those blankets, most of the men have already taken advantage of them. Between last night’s late celebration and the long march today, they’re done in.” Adam surveyed the camp observing the outline of several men already asleep.

“All except our friends here,” Reed tossed a nod over at the four men who sat on the ground within a small, specified area. On either side of the clustered men two long poles topped with wood burning torches had been staked into the ground. Illuminated by the flickering flames, the irises of the prisoners’ pupils glowed eerily. They were silently surveying every movement and shadow that was taking place in the main body of the camp and occasionally looking back at the men who had placed them there. “They’ll be watching us tonight like hawks.”

“You double check the ropes again after dinner?” Adam asked.

“Not yet. I was just about to do that before you came over. You want to help me?”

“Yes.” Adam knew he’d feel better if he could just feel the knots himself. Confirming the first of the ex-deputies restraints to be sound, he moved over to the Judge. Despite Adam’s usual level of self-control, he felt a hot sour distaste rise within him just being in the proximity of the man. Yanking none too gently on the leg ropes to test their tautness, he stiffened when Harkins’ hellacious laugh burst forth.

“Cartwright, ain’t no little rope going to hold me for long.” He jeered.

“As long as it holds ‘till Dawson, that is all I care about. After that you’ll have to make do with a set of bars.” Adam answered simply as he pulled the knots together even tighter, then moved back around Harkins to check the ropes that bound the man’s wrists.

So intent on ignoring the insults that burst from his adversary’s mouth, Adam never heard the approach.

A heavy object pushed against the back of his head and a whisper in his ear immobilized any further movement. Adam had been caught awkwardly in a kneeling position and the intruder easily removed the gun from his holster leaving him unarmed.

Reed just as quickly found himself at the mercy of a secondary invader.

“One sound out of either of you and the other one is history, all I need is one of you alive.” Sean growled low in warning.

Walt’s sharp Bowie knife made short work of the thick bindings and as soon as the Judge and his deputies were cut free, Sean handed Adam’s revolver over to the Judge and Reed’s to Luke.

“Never reckoned you’d be the one cutting me free Sean,” Judge expressed his surprise. “You got something specific in mind to get us out of here?”

“Figured we start with taking these two hostages under our belt,” he answered as he forced Adam and Reed to their feet.

Even in the dark, Adam could see the anger that burned deep behind the malevolence dark eyes. “Just the ones I woulda picked.” Harkins hissed under his breath. “I got unfinished business with Cartwright.”

“Judge whatever you got in mind, it’s gonna have to wait till we get ourselves some extra horseflesh unless you want to high-tail it out of here on foot. Sean kept the gun pressed up against Adam using it to propel him forward. “Let’s go – MOVE! Over towards the wagon.”

Quickly apparent to Adam and Reed was the fact Sean had no plans to try and keep their appearance hidden. The two guards Adam had sent for coffee were the first to notice the unusual movement and puzzled at why Adam and Reed would be moving the prisoners without asking for help, but as their vision adjusted, they instinctively reached towards their holsters.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the ruthless voice of Sean warned, “Unless you’d like to see your friends here used for target practice.”

Both guards dropped their hands away clearly convinced that the pistol held against the back of Adam’s neck was far too real.

“Wise decision,” Sean commended their action. “Now unbuckle them gun belts and drop ‘em on the ground.”

Luke stepped forward to pick up the discarded holsters and passed them back to the Judge’s other two deputies so that each man now wielded their own individual form of defense.

With the retreat of Adam’s guards, Sean continued pushing unhindered towards the wagon and the nearby horses. Gradually men in the camp were becoming acutely aware of the developing situation and began intently surveying the prisoner’s movements but were uncertain of what assistance they could contribute.

The caravan’s horses had been tied to a picket line in a small area back behind the wagon and stacked on the ground, directly in front of each horse, lay an individual bundle containing the appropriate saddle and gear for that mount. Sean instructed the Judge’s deputies to begin preparing several of the riding mounts then jerked on Adam’s arm bringing him to a halt at the end of the wagon and pushed Reed up next to him.

Ben had been observing the startling breakaway of the Judge and his deputies with the same astonishment as the rest of the camp but that surprise had quickly turned to deep concern, when he realized it was his eldest and the camp leader that the Judge seemed to favor as their replacements.

Now less than twenty feet away Ben found himself unable to break eye contact from his hostage-held son; his own motions strained with helplessness as he stepped protectively closer to Joe.

Harkins did not miss the look between the two, also taking notice of Joe who was angrily struggling to his feet from his place on the open bedroll. Judge smirked watching Joe’s strained movements knowing how harmless that one had been rendered. “Cartwright, looks like you need to find yourself a better rescue team than an old man and a wounded cub. I might be a bit more concerned if that good size brother of yours was around but you seem to have made the mistake of sending him on ahead for help and as far as the rest of the men, they won’t help you now. They know all too well the consequences of interference, so now I should have no problems taking rightful repossession of my gold.”

Sean’s eyes widened at hearing the claim for the first time. The Judge’s capture and disbandment of the prison camp had been bad enough but the money part was different; having a large personal stake in the proceeds from the mining operation. “Is that correct Cartwright?” Adam felt the steel barrel of a pistol pushed up hard into his chest. “You take the Judge’s gold?”

“We don’t have any gold.” Adam answered flatly.

“We ain’t got time for games Cartwright.” Sean threw Adam up against the side of the wagon. A deep angled punch into Adam’s ribcage had him bending double and before he could catch his breath, a second jab to the side of Adam’s face was delivered, followed by four more deep undercuts.

Ben had to grab Joe by the arm as he tried to surge forward towards Adam’s aide. “Joe NO!” Ben commanded in a low voice.

Adam spit the blood that ran into his mouth from his split lip. “Still having other men do your dirty work Harkins?”

“My son is telling the truth.” Ben spoke up trying to stop the punishing cruelty while still maintaining his grip on Joe. “There is no gold here.”

“You better hope it is here old man, otherwise I’m going to turn your sons into orphans real quick. Should’ve taken care of the whole lot of you Cartwrights back at the mining camp like we did your friend, Billie,” Judge spat out the last name with emphasis.

Joe bristled again remembering how they had killed Billie in less than a minute, without any signs of remorse.

Harkins could feel his partner’s impatience at the delay. “The gold is here Sean and we’re not leaving here without it.”

“I’ll look for it Judge.” Luke offered driven by his own fervent desire. He had invested as much time and energy into the mining operation as the Judge and risked and sacrificed too much of himself to just ride off without it. The gold from the mine was his ticket to an outside life free of the mines’ daily drudgeries and the commands of a self- pretentious man.

With help from Walt and the other deputies Luke began ransacking every barrel and parcel both in the wagon and down at the campfire. Finally several minutes later he threw one empty crate down in disgust splintering the thin wood slats. “It ain’t here Judge.”

“We’re not waitin’ any longer.” Sean commanded feeling the many sets of anxious, restless eyes boring through the dark at them. It wouldn’t be long before the element of surprise and shock evaporated and they dared to strike. He knew he was sitting on a powder keg with a lit fuse. “You’re gonna have to get it later.”

But the Judge wasn’t ready. He needed to make one last attempt. “Luke, kill Ben Cartwright.”

Luke automatically raised up his gun, instilled by years of doing the Judge’s commands without question, a silver-bluish tint glistening slightly from the octagonal eight inch metal barrel.

“NO!” Joe Cartwright yelled as he moved to pull his father out of the line of fire.

In that instant, several distinct rounds of gunfire began to discharge from all directions erupting the site into chaos. The bullet from Luke’s gun missed its target but the two Cartwrights were now in the midst of crossfire.

The Judge’s deputies, using their newly acquired weapons, began returning the shots of the valiant men in camp who tried to come to the Cartwrights’ rescue. As the array of shots continued the deputies began spreading out in an effort to force the hidden men out from wherever they had taken cover while Luke focused on re-aiming at his original target.

After dodging the almost fatal shot Ben managed to pull his own pistol and discharge a few back towards Luke but he was more concerned about leading Joe away from the wagon where the heaviest volume of shots was happening. Even though it was open ground in any direction they headed, additional cover was provided by the shots daringly fired up towards the wagon from the body of the camp.

But the attempt proved futile. No sooner than they had gotten a small distance away, when one of Luke’s repetitive shots finally found its mark. The blast sent Ben’s body jerking backwards and his movements suddenly ceased as he fell heavily against Joe’s slighter frame, a wide streak of blood running through the head of white hair.

“PA!” A single strangled cry of anguish rose but was never heard above the riotous volley of exploding gunpowder.

For a while longer the deafening noise continued until Luke and Walt finally managed to sweep in behind Farley and Dean and a few others, none to gently flushing them out into the open to appear in front of the Judge. It was shortly afterwards that all guns in the camp became quiet.

“Judge, these are some of the men who’ve been drawing down on us. They’re responsible for this.” Walt dropped Hector’s body, in front of the Judge. “Marcus is back in the trees but he’s not gonna be able to ride for a while.”

“Farley.” Judge spoke the name of his oldest prisoner with a flare of great disappointment. “This is the second time you’ve disillusioned me. I always thought that you were the most promising of the bunch. Was that your bullet that did that?” Harkins indicated the fallen deputy.

“No, but I wouldn’t be sorry if it was.” Farley answered. “There was no way we were going to let you shoot Ben Cartwright down in cold blood.”

Harkins smirked as he looked towards Joe kneeling down beside Ben. “Looks like all that heroism may have been wasted Farley. Luke, go over there and check it out.”

Joe was unaware of when the gunfire had ceased. Having been unable to produce a response from his father, Joe seemed to fall into a frozen state of distress, his green eyes locked onto the motionless face, staring at the blood that trickled down from above Ben’s ear, spreading deep into the shirt collar. All around him sounds of the camp had been reduced to a faint buzzing. Even when Luke came to check the damage as Harkins requested, he found he could not move. Luke ignored Joe as he first jostled Ben’s still body with the toe of his boot then reached down to test for signs of life. Satisfied he lifted his head towards the Judge. “Dead!” Luke stated loudly as a matter of fact.

The callous pronouncement made Adam’s heart wrench as the scene unrealistically unfolded in front of him but he was heavily restrained from going to his brother.

“Well, at least now I have retribution for the life of my deputy. Farley, I’m glad it wasn’t you. These men here seem to be putting fancy ideas in your head making you believe I’m the enemy. You and I, Farley, we go way back. We’ve always understood each other. I’m going to give you another chance to do things my way. You’ll join us. Walt, bring two of them horses over here.”

Adam watched mutely as Farley was directed up onto one of the horses, but when the Judge ordered Luke to hoist Joe onto the other, he pulled vehemently against the hands that restrained him.

“What good would he do you – he can’t ride.” Adam angrily objected.

“He’ll do it if he wants to stay alive.” Harkins retorted. “Now if your own father’s death isn’t enough, we can just start convincing you with another demonstration right here.” Judge coldly ran the tip of his barrel down Reed’s cheek.

Dead. It was the only word that had seeped into his brain and all Joe could retain. Even when hands grabbed for him, lifting him up his body had no will, it was as limp as a rag doll.

Farley placed the reins into Joe’s hand. Joe looked at them absently and then back down at the thick black mane that covered the horse’s neck – the golden color and shape somehow strangely comforting. Then he recalled – this was his father’s horse.

Farley leaned over to whisper a message. “Just hang on Joe. That’s all you gotta do is just hang on.”

Several feet away, Sean motioned for Adam to mount the horse they brought him. How he had been fortunate enough to end up on his own mount, he did not question, but silently accepted the familiarity of his own saddle. It was only his brother that he gave any thought to now as he watched Joe swaying unnaturally in the saddle. He knew in his heart that’s all his father would have asked of him but that was not all that Adam needed. Harkins glanced down at the remaining men, among them Dean, Reed and Charlie, still not sure if he should just shoot them all for just standing there, then decided he had a better use. “Give a message to those lawmen in Dawson. Tell them we’ll be coming for the gold and hostages don’t last forever.”

Tuesday -11:00 pm –Homecoming At Westfield Farm

“Hoss, the turnoff for our farm is just around that bend. Even in the dark I can tell exactly where we are and it feels so good, so familiar.” The raised excitement in Nick’s voice was catching. Hoss could not help but smile at the kid’s exuberance; it was a great feeling to be able to put this terrific kid back in the arms of his family. Even though it had been a long and strenuous day’s ride, the two of them had never once showed a sign of slowing down and they had pushed themselves and their horses hard. Between the boy’s youth and Hoss’ determination they had continued on, stopping only for slight periods to give their mounts rest and water. Both men were anxious to make their destination as quickly as possible for varying reasons. Since Nick’s farm was about half an hour outside the city of Dawson, it stood to reason they would pull up there first.

“You better just get ready fer that mama of yours to be fawning all over you.” Hoss warned Nick teasingly.

“If she doesn’t faint dead away first, but I don’t mind telling you I’m a bit nervous.”

“You ain’t got nothin’ to be nervous about boy. Yer’ going home to the place where you belong. Ain’t no feelin’ like it in the whole world.”

“I’m just real glad you’re with me Hoss. Not sure I know how to really explain it all to them. They might think it was all some yarn I’d made up or something.”

“I think they’re gonna believe every word.”

“Up ahead Hoss, I can see lights in the windows, somebody’s still up.” Nick sat up straighter in his saddle despite his tired leg muscles as they made their way into the front yard.

* * * * *

In the stillness of the quiet summer night Margaret and Craig Westfield sat in the main living room enjoying the first cool breezes that blew through the house after having dealt with the day’s high heat. Craig had finished getting the last of his hay field stacked tonight and was enjoying the evening paper after a particularly fine dinner. Margaret sat in a chair at the dinner table which had been cleared of it’s dirty dishes and replaced with her mending basket as she took care of a seam her husband had worked loose in his shirt.

“You hear something Margaret?” Craig pulled his newspaper away from his face to look towards the window.

“Probably just Robert finishing up in the barn, it was real nice of him to come out here today to help you finish up with the haying.”

“It wasn’t me he wanted to help – it was just some of his mama’s good food he was after.” Craig teased his wife. “You know those meals they bring over to the jail house for the Sheriff’s crew aren’t always the most tempting.”

“Now Craig, the hotel does a fairly decent job considering they don’t have a lot of business right now.”

“But there is no replacement for his mama’s apple pie and you sure outdid yourself on that batch tonight.” Craig rubbed his stomach.

Margaret blushed under her husband’s compliments.

A few moments later the unmistakable sound of horses being ridden into the front yard caught their attention.

“Sounds like we’ve got company.”

“Who could that be at this time of night?”

“Someone’s probably looking for their escaped town deputy. I believe he was supposed to be back on duty in town a couple of hours ago. I’m not sure they’d understand that the grown man’s mama needed to keep him at home for a while longer.”

They both could now hear Robert’s voice, which was growing in pitch but the words were unclear. It was quickly followed by a fevered excited yell “PA, MA!”

“What’s going on out there?” Craig stood up tossing his paper on the chair and headed for the doorway. Just as he pulled it open, he was brought to a dead halt by the sight in front of him leaving him totally speechless. All he could do was stare.

“Craig, what is it?” Margaret walked to stand behind her husband peering out from under his tall shoulder. The lamp light from inside the house was just enough to illuminate the man’s face.

In disbelief, Margaret found herself catching her breath and placing her hand at her heart… “Nick.” The word finally slipping softly from her lips.

Then she was through the door her arms wrapped tightly around her youngest son. “NICK, OH NICK.”

When she finally released him, she had tears rolling down her cheeks. She stood back from him just enough to drink in his features.

“A father would like to get a hug around here too.” Craig managed to grab up his boy firmly patting him on the back until Nick found himself spluttering for breath. “Come in, come in this house boy. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do. Who’s this?” Craig saw for the first time the big man standing a few paces back from the family reunion.

“Pa, this here is Hoss Cartwright, his family were the ones who rescued me and all the other men.”

A deep frown furrowed in Craig’s brow at the word rescued, just where had his son been that he needed rescuing? “Please Mr. Cartwright, come in. It seems we have a few things to talk about.”

“Yes sir.” Hoss took off his tall white hat nodding gratefully to the boy’s parents. “I’m mighty pleased to meet you folks and glad that I could help bring yer boy home to you.”

Slowly they made their way again into the front room where Margaret made Nick sit on the settee, then sat down beside him giving him another hug, before holding his face within the palms of her hands.

“Ma, it’s alright, I’m okay.” Nick felt so guilty at the tears and worry he knew he had put his parents though the past four months, especially his ma.

Craig pulled a couple of chairs up from the dining table and placed them near the boy and his mother.

“Son, I think you have some explaining to do. Do you know how many search parties we put together looking for you? How much grief and fear your mother and I have been through. We never believed you’d be one to run away.”

“I know Pa. I’m sorry you’ve had to worry so much. I would’ve given anything to get word to you. There was just nothing I could do honest.” Nick stumbled over the words trying to get them out fast enough to explain but the whole experience of what had happened to him was so unreal. He wasn’t sure his Pa would ever believe him. He looked to Hoss for help.

Over an hour later Nick and Hoss had managed to tell the whole story and answer dozens of questions as best they could.

Craig’s head lowered at the unbelievable cruelty his son had been made a part of. He could not help but heap some reproach on himself. Seeing his son again he wondered how he could ever of let folks suggest to him that Nick had perhaps just wanted to spread his wings for a while, that he’d be home when he was done sowing his wild oats. He had never truly believed that but after hundreds of hours of searching and trailing leads, it was better than thinking on the alternative and it had kept hope alive for his family.

“There really weren’t nothing you could’a done Mr. Westfield. John Harkins and his guards had the perfect operation goin’ up there. No one could’ve found it less’n they was taken right to it, like my family was.”

“I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done for my boy, especially bringing him home to his mama and me. But I’m going to be the first one to volunteer myself, my wagon and my horses to head back out there tomorrow with you to help bring in the rest of those men.

“Pa, I know it’s late but how about we ride into town tonight and fill Sheriff Higgins in on all this. He’s waiting for me to come in and relieve him tonight anyway. I know there are several people who will want to help us put together a rescue team and if we can spread the word tonight, the earlier we can ride out in the morning.”

“Robert, you’re not going anywhere until I get some food into these boys.” Margaret declared. “Our son is skinny as a rail and I’m sure Hoss would appreciate a good meal.”

Hoss and Nick looked up at each other, their empty stomachs more than ready to accept the invitation.

“If’n it ain’t too much trouble ma’am.”

“No trouble at all, if you don’t mind our dinner leftovers. I’ve got plenty of cold fried chicken, potato salad and apple pie.”

With a full stomach and the safety and security of his family now cloaked around him, Nick caught himself as he began to nod off. Craig Westfield chuckled as he poured a second cup of coffee for Hoss and himself. “Better get that one tucked off into bed Margaret before he ends up face down on his plate.”

“No Pa, I want to go with you into Dawson.” Nick yawned heavily.

“Not tonight.” Craig stood and kissed the top of his son’s head. “Tonight you belong to your mama. Tomorrow you can help get this town ready for those new friends of yours. I’m glad you’re home son.”

While Nick and Hoss finished dinner Robert had saddled three fresh horses and put Chubb and Cochise up for the night.

A few hours later, Hoss returned to the Westfield farm with Craig. Hoss’ head dropped wearily onto the guest room pillow. Tonight he had been relieved of much of his burden. The sheriff’s safe now held the ledger and the Judge’s gold and with the Westfield’s help, the call for help had spread quickly through the small town. Even on such short notice, many people had readily agreed to be at the Westfield home in the morning offering the use of their wagons and assistance.

Hoss’ last thought that night was of his own family.

* * *

Chapter 6 – (Wednesday)

Wednesday – 1:00 am – Even Bad Guys Need Their Rest

Through the dark night the unusual collection of men rode, their unwilling hostages tightly beside them. With no moon to steer by, there was no choice but to hold the horses to a slower pace. The lack of overhead illumination might have hampered them further if not for the fact that Sean and Walt had recently made their way over this same terrain and were aided by a couple of torches taken from the wagon.

For several hours Joe barely even felt the saddle move beneath him, his mind numbed by shock. It was only by natural instinct, he was able to keep himself centered in position. But by midnight the attacks of nausea and dizziness that continually assaulted his body had taken their toll. His face lay buried down against Buck’s long neck only wishing to slip quietly from the saddle.

“Why are we pulling up here Sean? You looking for something particular?” Harkins asked testily as they rode up under a natural cliff overhang, which provided relief from the cutting wind. Having faces and hands so chilled they stung had done nothing to curb the short-tempers at the disappointment of how the night’s events had turned out.

“Judge, that’s one hell-raising bunch of mutineers we stirred up back there.” Sean’s retort was edged with anger. “Where’d they get all that ammo anyway?”

“From the cache I hadn’t gotten around to selling off yet.” Harkins answered vehemently. “Don’t know how they found it, but I’m convinced that if they did that much digging around they’ve got the gold too.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to go back for the gold later. After they gunned down those two deputies of yours, there’s no way I was sticking around until someone got lucky and caught us in their sights. Last couple days have been bad enough, got some problems of my own, hadn’t counted on expending extra energy to pull your butt out of the fire today. I thought it was going to be the other way around.”

“Why were you out there tonight Sean, you haven’t exactly made that part clear?” the Judge questioned the oldest Cole Brother. “By my calculations, you were supposed to be up at the mine a couple days ago and where’s Steve?”

“Let’s get off these nags and we’ll talk.” Sean suggested, then turned and ordered Walt to start up a fire.”

“Why can’t Luke do it?” was the tart response.

“Because I told you to, now git to it and scrounge us up something to eat. Luke, you can get those men down off those horses and sit ‘em up against that rock wall. Make sure those ropes are good and tight.”

Wednesday – 5:30 am Let’s Go Get ‘Em

“But Pa, I want to go. Those men are counting on me as much as they are Hoss.” Nick said in irritation at the breakfast table with his father. “I feel like you’re leaving me behind like some little kid.”

“Son, sometimes there are different types of responsibilities and today I need you to go with your mother into town and help organize for the arrival of the men from the camp. That’s just as important, if not more so than making sure they have a ride.”

“I guess so Pa. It’s just that I really want to help.”

Hoss emerged from the back room where he had taken Margaret up on her offer to use the bath and while he had bathed, his clothes had been brushed clean. He was feeling better than he had in several days. The smell of coffee soon brought him to the dining table where he caught the tail end of the conversation.

“Nick, there is somethin’ you can do for me today that would be real helpful.”

“Of course Hoss, anything,” Nick readily agreed.

“I got some real important telegrams that need ta be sent out today. Would you mind takin’ care of it?” Hoss reached into his vest pocket and pulled the telegrams Ben had written.

“Sure thing Hoss,” Nick’s eyes widened at being chosen for the responsibility. “I’ll do it first thing this morning.”

“And you tell the operator that if any answers come in, he’s to get those to ya straight away.”

Margaret entered the room and put a fresh bowl of piping hot porridge in front of Hoss. “Nick, when you’re finished with your breakfast, please hitch up the buggy for us. I want to get into town as soon as possible and get the women started on baking some extra food. Sounds like we’re going to have a few extra mouths in town today and that little hotel of ours isn’t quite capable of handling that much overflow.”

“Ma, I’ll have it ready in just a few shakes.” Nick took off like a shot out the door.

“Thanks Hoss.” Craig offered after his son had left through the front door. “You just made him feel like he had the most important job in the world.”

“Well it weren’t that hard. Those telegrams actually are pretty important. One of them is to the territorial governor, a little outline about this whole operation.”

“The governor is going to be interested in what’s going on in Dawson?” Craig’s eyes widened.

“I think he will be. The Governor is a friend of my father.”

“You think he might actually come out here?” Margaret asked.

“He would if’n it were important enough.” Hoss assured them.

“Oh my, I’m not sure if we have a place fancy enough for him to stay.” Margaret fretted.

Hoss laughed. “Don’t you worry none, he ain’t no high-faluting type of man. He’s real easy to talk to. I know cause I get along with him just fine.”

“Margaret, let’s just wait until we hear from the man before you go building him a royal palace.” Craig said firmly bringing her back to earth.

“Alright,” she agreed as she tied her bonnet on under her chin, “But I’m going to at least let the ladies know so they can polish up their recipes.”

“You know Hoss, I think the best advertisement we can give the people of Dawson today is to have Margaret walking around town with Nick under her wing. She’s so happy to have her son home again that she’s going to stir up everyone in town. So, if you’re ready, there’s a whole crew waiting on us outside. I think it’s time to go bring those men back here so they can enjoy some of Dawson’s hospitality.”

Wednesday – 5:30 am – Hangover

For the men to have had justice held so tightly in their hand and then to have it, yet again, wrenched cruelly from their grasp was a crushing heavy emotional blow. Sleep had once again come in short supply as the night played itself out. Worries became to build – not that the Judge would return to their camp that evening or even the next day, they truly believed he would try to get away as far and as fast as he could but that he was now free to begin inflicting fresh new terrors and he had insured the fact that those terrors had already begun with the taking of the hostages. A few stouthearted men talked intently about putting together a search and rescue party come daybreak and approached Reed about it. Reed wanted as much as these men to start out come morning, but with Adam’s absence and Ben drifting in and out, it was clear Reed was now fully in charge of this group. His first responsibility was to make sure everyone was delivered to Dawson before putting together any type of rescue mission and hopefully enlisting the badly needed help of some local law officials. That responsibility along with the fact that they did not even have the horses or supplies to set out on such a mission made him reluctantly have to say they were all going to continue on to Dawson.

Reed with the help of Charlie, Hank and Dean got a hot morning meal together for the men and slightly reorganized the group’s structure. Ben was placed into the space Joe had previously occupied upon the collected blankets, his facial coloring looking much better this morning. Charlie and Hank had sat up with him most of the night. Ben had actually awoken several times during the night becoming agitated each time as he remembered the events that had happened. It was only when Charlie regrettably confirmed the Judge did take both Adam and Joe that Ben tried to rise as in an effort to go after them but it was a short-lived struggle before he quickly tired and fell back asleep.

With a much heavier heart than yesterday, the group moved forward taking their next step on the journey to freedom.

Wednesday – 6:30 am – Let’s Spend The Day Together

As tired as they were, it was a sleepless night. Joe’s physical discomfort and mental anguish over his father had kept his mind in a state of constant revolution. He had curled up into himself, hoping for nothing more than an escape that would allow himself to give into the grief that now totally consumed him. Visions of his father ran through his mind like wildfire. He lay watching the men’s morning activities with a simmering rage he knew he was powerless to do anything about. Wanting nothing more than to strike back the first chance he got. He looked over at his brother hoping to find affirmation and cohesion to his own dark thoughts but the ally Joe was looking for was not found in Adam’s stanch rigid appearance, which as usual gave nothing away. He noticed Adam exchange a few words with Farley before they were all dragged to and pushed roughly up on their horses, no one having bothered to unsaddle the mounts from last night. There was no mention of food this morning; the only pressing thought in the men’s minds seemed to be in getting the horses moving and as many miles behind them as possible.

Wednesday – 11:00 am – What Do You Want First, The Good News or The Bad?

A loud cheer went up among the men at the sight of the approaching wagons with Hoss and Craig leading the pack. The moment it sunk in that the approaching modes of transportation were actually coming for them, the men on foot came to a halt more than willing to let the other group come the rest of the way.

Seeing the exuberance of the men, Hoss could not help but offer up a broad grin. He was happy he played a part in creating such an elated reaction. Wanting to share the joy with his brother, he scanned the faces of the quickly converging crowd but grew puzzled by the seeming absence of the dark haired leader. Failing to seek him out, Hoss decided his best course of action might be to check with his father and urged his horse to the back of the line, drawing up alongside the old battered prison camp wagon but he was taken back at the rearrangement that had occurred. His Pa now lay quietly atop the same blankets that Joe had laid on not that long ago and his younger sibling was as absent as his older one. Observing the strip of white cloth around his father’s head, an unexpected cold chill began to wrap itself around Hoss’ spine. A spot of blood colored the cloth just above Ben’s left ear. Something was very wrong and the chill of misgiving finished running straight down to the soles of his boots.

“Charlie, what happened to Pa?” Hoss ventured as he climbed off his mount.

“Oh Hoss, I’m mighty glad to see you.” Charlie’s relief was evident now that he finally had someone to share the responsibility of Ben’s welfare. “We had some bad trouble last night.”

The answer only served to escalate Hoss’ level of concern. “Where are Adam and Joe?”

“Taken hostage,” A nearby voice flatly replied.

Hoss looked up to see Reed standing beside the wagon. Reed had been making his way over to Hoss since the two groups had met, anticipating Hoss’ growing need for answers. There was no easy way to describe the events of last night and Reed dreaded being the one to break the news. Even now it seemed unbelievable that only two men could have wracked such havoc on a much larger group of well-armed men.

“HOSTAGE?” Hoss bellowed. “Reed, you’d better start explainin’ and fast?”

Sheriff Higgins as well as Craig and Robert Westfield had made their way over to the wagon just in time to listen with disbelief as Charlie and Reed managed to pour the whole story out.

“Ya mean to tell me my brothers are back in the hands of that monster! Why didn’t someone stop ‘em?”

“Hoss, we all wanted to – but we would’ve just gotten more innocent people killed. When the Judge told Luke to kill your Pa so that Adam would give him the information about the gold, Joe tried to protect him but your Pa still ended up taking a bullet across the scalp for it. After that, no one dared try anything because these men were aiming to kill if they were provoked for any reason, sure they would have enjoyed it. And with the Judge having so much hate against you Cartwrights, it just would have made it worse for Joe and Adam.”

“I don’t see how it could get any worse.” Dejectedly Hoss closed his eyes finally resigning himself to the fact that this had truly happened. This horrific nightmare never seemed to end.

“Hoss . . . ” A familiar low voice came from inside the wagon.

“Your Pa is waking up.” Charlie announced. “He’ll be wanting to speak with you.”

“Pa. I’m here.” Hoss turned back to the wagon frame reassuring his father. “How ya doing?”

“Judge took Adam and Joe. You have to go after them Hoss. Take some men, go after them.”

“Pa, I promise ya I’m gonna find ‘em. There ain’t gonna be no rock big enough fer the Judge or them thieves ta hide under when I git through with ‘em!” Hoss’ anger was reaching a fevered pitch just thinking of how he was going to serve up a little of his own justice.

Watching the rage that was beginning to build inside this usually mild mannered man made each man there shiver a bit. They definitely did not want to be in the Judge’s shoes when this man’s full wrath was unleashed.

Suddenly Ben slipped back to the blankets, turned his head and was asleep making Hoss turn to Charlie for an answer.

“He’s been doing that a lot ever since the bullet hit him, drifting in and out like that.” Charlie explained. “Other than that, he seems to be thinking straight. Always makes sense when he wakes, just can’t seem to stay awake long.”

“Hoss, I know right now you’re only thinking about mounting that horse of yours and riding after them.” Reed said in a manner similar to the logic Adam usually displayed, but Hoss was pretty sure that even Adam would not be thinking logically at this point. “It just isn’t that easy. First, your Pa needs attention. We have got to get him to the doctor in Dawson, I’m not sure how bad the injury is, he is probably concussed but we need to make sure he’s okay. And that is wild country up there, you can’t go alone and you’ll need fresh horses and supplies. We’re only a few hours now from Dawson. Let’s go back, have your Pa taken care of and get equipped and devise a plan.

“I’ll get you all the manpower you need back in Dawson son.” Sheriff Higgins offered, but this fellow here is right. “You’ve got to get your Pa settled or you won’t be able to go anywhere with a clear head.”

Hoss nodded then mounted his horse. “Alright, let’s git these men home.”

12:30 pm – Paranoia is a Symptom of Blood Loss

A loud shot from behind them made everyone jerk upright in their saddles. Sean’s horse skidded sideways at the sudden noise and he had to draw up before turning round to see where the shot had come from.

“Missed,” Walt muttered under his breath.

“What are you playing at back there Walt?” Sean yelled.

“Just shootin’ at some game,” Walt retorted. “We still gotta eat – didn’t even have no breakfast this morning!”

“This ain’t no hunting trip stupid!” was the sharp retort. “Shooting like that is bound to be heard by somebody.”

“You still think someone’s following us?” Walt said with a haughty laugh. “There is no way them prisoner men of the judges are gonna risk their necks to save these guys, not when they can smell their own freedom. They ain’t that brave, they’ll be too scared to try and track us, afraid they might get shackled up again, right Luke?”

“Maybe . . . but Walt’s right about one thing, we’re getting hungry. We ain’t ate much in two days now.” Luke agreed.

“Maybe a small break would be in order.” Judge agreed. “Horses could use a rest.”

The last one to be untied from his horse was Joe. As Walt reached up to undo the restraints that secured the younger Cartwright’s hands to the saddle horn; Joe’s reaction was instinctive for escape. In a thrust of energy, he plunged the hard heels of his boots deep into his horse’s side and yelled out a command. His father’s horse, well used to the familiar voice, immediately gathered its powerful muscles and bolted forward at a speed that had Joe fighting to retain his balance. It was an easy thing for Joe to reach forward and grab up the reins, which Walt had loosely draped over the horse’s neck. A fairly straight path lay ahead and Joe saw the possibility of gaining a good lead before someone began pursuing him. It did not concern him that he had no idea where he was going or how to get there. His only goal was escape; escape from the waking horror of the past four days, escape from his current enemies and escape from the never-ending torture of his own body. He just wanted it all to stop.

Luke, who had just barely dismounted himself when the commotion arose glanced up and quickly assessed the situation. In a flash he was remounted and whipping the reins of his own horse to follow the direction Joe had taken. As he rode, he reached down to grab hold of the coiled lariat that hung from the front end of the saddle. A strong kick to the side of his horse had him gaining some on Joe’s lead. The surprise of Joe’s getaway over, Walt moved to his own horse and rode out behind Luke; all three sets of hoofs raising vast amounts of dust in their wake veiling the view of the audience left behind.

Luke’s mount, built more for speed than Buck managed to shorten the distance between the two geldings to only a few lengths. With a flick of his right wrist Luke began whirling the thin rope above his head until the loop opening adjusted to the size he desired. A darkened shadow on the ground made Joe glance over his shoulder; he would not go back. Leaning further down over Buck’s neck he squeezed the horse’s ribcage with his knees and issued a firm command, the horse pulled forward, but it was not enough. The rope descended with a swish and the breadth of Joe’s shoulders was encircled. A moment later the rope snapped tight and Joe was caught within its snare, his body aggressively wrenched backwards in the saddle, while an inferno of pain erupted from beneath the vice that now trapped his arm and chest together. As he struggled between catching his breath and emitting a cry of torment, the support beneath him vanished altogether and his body flew backwards through the air while the horse continuing on without him. The intensity with which he hit the ground on his left hip had his teeth gnashing together while his spine suffered a vicious jarring. Joe’s adrenaline spent, he collapsed on the ground.

Walt rode on past the downed Joe to catch the now riderless horse. By the time he returned with the elder Cartwright’s steed, Luke had hauled the dust covered young Cartwright up to his wavering feet forcing him to walk ahead, an obvious limp in his stride as they came back down the trail to the awaiting Judge. For Luke, retrieving an escaping prisoner was just part of the routine he usually performed back at the prison camp, while the redness in Walt’s face displayed the anger and humiliation he bore towards Joe.

Adam, whose heart had dropped to his stomach, watching the stupid stunt that had almost gotten Joe killed, tried to move forward to help his brother but was met with the barrel of a gun in his face.

“Tie them up against those trees NOW!” The Judge ordered, fighting desperately to keep his elevated temper under control.

In minutes, the prisoners were stood roughly with their backs thrust up against three nearby thick trunks, and their arms forced unnaturally back behind them and tied together. Adam took this time to observe Joe’s movements looking for evidence of further injury. Outwardly the damage appeared minimal, other than the fact Joe seemed to be favoring his left leg, but what concerned the older sibling more was what was probably going on beneath the now ripped and dirtied shirt.

The Judge came forward to stand in front of Adam with a look on his face that they had seen many times before in the prison camp, just before he doled out a punishment for some type of transgression committed by one of the men. It was the look that gave the Judge his name.

“Cartwright, I believe I have made my standing on attempted escapes quite clear but apparently your brother seems to think that the rules do not apply to him. He has been insolent from the first.”

“Then why did you choose to bring him?” Adam asked with an eerie calmness. “You’re not the sort of man who drags trouble around with him without a reason. You could have brought anyone you wanted, why him – why not my father who knew more about your talent for keeping account books?” Adam watched the Judge go green at the reminder of the unaccounted for ledger, filled with incriminating evidence. “If you had brought my father along and left Joe behind you’d have given yourself a much better bargaining chip and you’d definitely be traveling much faster.”

The question that Adam put to the Judge had only been an underlying expression of his concern that Joe be spared the enforced physical agony of this journey but the few words Joe managed to overhear left him feeling confused, his muddled mind unable to understand why Adam wished that it were him that had been killed and left behind instead of their father?

As Joe began dwelling on the thought the more he realized that with Ben gone Adam had no need to hide his real feelings any longer. He’d always known Adam just tolerated him, a young, reckless, willful kid that was always getting mixed up in some kind of trouble; much like the brainless act he had just executed. Sure Adam had removed the bullet, which had saved his life, but probably only to prove to their father that it was once again Adam that could be trusted, Adam that was the perfect son. Wasn’t it Adam who had begged his father to be the one to do it? He had probably enjoyed those tortuous moments, glad there was no pain medicine. Ever since they had been taken from the campsite, Adam had been projecting a cold hardness, barely even acknowledging him, as if blaming him for their father’s death. The silent accusation rang loudly inside his head and dismally he knew his brother was right. Pa could have saved himself if he hadn’t been trying to save me. The very truth of it began churning like hot acid in his stomach that had nothing to do with the constant throbbing of his shoulder that was pulled back almost beyond endurance with the tightened ropes. His world seemed so very dark and he wanted his father so much that the pain almost made him sick.

Adam caught a glimpse of the distress that spread over Joe’s face and knew he had to continue keeping Harkins’ attention focused in his own direction, so that his brother’s physical weakness would go unnoticed. It had taken all of Adam’s willpower to stop himself from reaching out to comfort and ease Joe’s mental and physical pain but he knew the price these ruthless men would extract from both of them if he did. His only thought was to continue keeping Joe alive, it was all he cared about, all that was important not only for his father but for himself. As much as Joe sometimes managed to drive Adam’s patience to the extreme, it was Joe’s zest, enthusiasm and playful spirit for life that kept Adam from being wrapped up too tight in the dark cloak of harsh reality, a garment that had been given to him very early in his life, a garment that he swore, would never be a hand-me-down.

For one anxious moment Adam thought he had lost Harkins’ attention as it slowly drifted towards the adjacent tree trunk.

“He’s young and foolish Judge but he’ll learn.” Adam hated reverting back to the usage of the unearned title but it was vitally important that Harkins was triggered into believing Adam was giving him respect while indicating he would take personal responsibility for the younger man’s actions.

“Oh he’ll learn all right.” Harkins turned back to Adam. “and he’ll learn his actions have consequences.” Without hesitation, Harkins hoisted up the butt end of the rifle and jammed it down into Adam’s left ribcage, right in the same spot that had been deeply bruised by Sean’s fist last night. Before the groan had even passed from between Adam’s lips, the Judge struck a second time. The top half of Adam’s body folded down as far as the binding ropes would let him. “You make sure he stays in line or you’ll both find that the price goes higher.” Joe’s breath caught in his throat at the unexpected torment of his brother and then he quickly looked away.

As an extension of punishment the Judge ordered that none of the prisoners be fed other than one cup of water apiece. It was a command that bothered neither Adam nor Joe.

Wednesday – 1:00 pm – Dawson Rolls Out The Red Carpet

The next thing Ben Cartwright remembered was waking up on a cot covered with a white sheet. The cot was situated in a darkened corner but around the edge of a short wall he could make out streams of daylight and an undercurrent of noise. The throbbing in his head seemed to match perfectly to the beat of his pulse.

Gingerly he raised his hand to his head and felt the area that the pain radiated from. He grimaced from the tenderness his touch produced and quickly pulled his fingertips away feeling the sticky bandage. At first he seemed bewildered then suddenly with a flash his memories came flooding back. Two questions immediately pressed into his mind, how long ago had that happened and where was he? Ben swung his legs over the cot only to find that his equilibrium was severely off balance and his world tilted but the desire for answers was driving him to push through it.

“Whoa, Mr. Cartwright, please no, lay down.” A melodious voice encouraged. “Doctor, I need you over here.”

Before Ben could move any further off the cot, both the lady and another set of hands were pushing him back onto the pillow. Ben could feel someone grabbing hold of his wrist and taking his pulse as he felt his own system begin to rebalance itself.

“Just lay quietly Mr. Cartwright, you’re going to be fine but you’ve got to take it easy for a bit. You’ve taken quite a hit to the head and things are going to be, shall we say, quite wavy, for a while.”

Ben opened his eyes to see a poised younger man sitting next to him with a stethoscope draped around his neck.

“Doctor?” Ben questioned even though this man seemed barely above school age.

“Yes, I’m Doctor Wilson.” The young man assured him seeing the uncertainty. “Don’t let my youthful looks deceive you. I have all the proper degrees on my wall that allow me to officially tell you that if you try to stand up Mr. Cartwright, you are going to fall down.” The diagnosis was followed by a friendly smile. “But I do have to say that your eyes are a lot less dilated than they were when you were brought in here a couple hours ago. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.” Ben answered without thought.

“That’s good as well as the fact that you’ve responded to your name. I don’t suppose you remember too much about what happened after you got grazed by the bullet?”

Ben shook his head and was immediately regretful for the action. “No, but I remember everything up until that point and that’s why I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Pa, you’re not going anywhere, not until the Doc says you can.”

“Hoss,” the sigh of relief evident in Ben’s voice. Suddenly he had a connection to this strange place.

“Hoss, your father seems to be coming around reasonably well. There is no skull fracture, mostly just a deep crease which I’ve taken care of with a couple of stitches. So far, he’s shown no signs of amnesia or nausea, but he still is going to need to take it easy for a while. He’ll be dizzy for quite some time yet so no riding for a couple days. I’m going to watch him for another hour or so and then if he still seems stable with no signs of concussion, I’ll give him some headache powders.

“That’s good news doctor. Thank you. Do ya mind if I sit with him?”

“That will be fine but don’t keep him talking too long. The best thing for him is sleep.”

* * * * *

Hoss sat with his father for the next half hour filling him in on the shortened version of what had transpired since last night beginning with his first stop at the Westfield farm up until their arrival in the town of Dawson.

“Pa, this town has really opened itself up to the men. They’ve welcomed ‘em here just like they were family. When we arrived they had fixed up the saloon to use as a gatherin’ place and stocked it up with all kinds of food and drink that the local womenfolk put together. The doctor that’s been lookin’ after you set up a room so he could tend to those who needed his help; yer’ in the back section of the room right now. Doc wanted to keep ya out of the light and noise as much as possible. There’s even a bathhouse next door where the men are getting their first real hot bath in months. Everyone in town has tired to give somethin’. The barber is givin’ free shaves and the general store donated clothes and boots and stuff. Men are smellin’ purty sweet now. The sheriff even organized volunteers to take statements that we can save for the circuit judge and other people are helping to send telegrams to the men’s families. Nick’s family has been terrific, of course his mama will barely let him outta her sight and poor Mrs. Banks wife, she just keeps on cryin’ lookin’ at Mr. Banks like he’s gonna disappear again. They’re all having such a good time of it and I can’t help but feel real happy for ‘em Pa.” Hoss admitted.

“I know.” Ben reaffirmed understanding how much their own private anguish was overshadowing what should be a very joyous outcome. “It’s sounds like the whole town has responded and opened their hearts to these men, men who right now are in so much need of nourishment; both in body and soul. Perhaps it would be wisest now on our part to try and limit any future discussions about our intended plans for going after Adam, Joe and Farley to just the sheriff and ourselves.”

“I been kinda thinking along those same lines Pa. Lots of the men have offered ta go with me. I know they’re feelin’ real grateful and all but it’s time they start getting’ their own lives back together, they’ve got families and loved ones waitin’ on ‘em.”

“Yes Hoss, it is what Adam and Joe would want too; what we all fought so hard to help bring about. Continue to do whatever you can to help but I don’t want to wait any longer to start preparations for leaving. See if the sheriff will come over here and talk to us.”

“I’ll take care of it. Get yourself some rest now like the doc ordered and I’ll be back a bit later.” Hoss pulled the sheet up over his Pa’s shoulder as Ben wearily closed his eyes. It was at that moment Hoss realized just how worn out his Pa looked between the worrying and the injury and just how much of the responsibility for finding his brothers was now falling directly on his own shoulders.

“I’ll get ‘em back Pa, I promise,” Hoss whispered.

* * * * *

As Hoss emerged from the back room, his thoughts were interrupted by the commotion-taking place inside the main saloon. One of the cowboys was standing up on top of a table jumping and hollering and waving his hat while everyone else cheered.

“What’s going on Sam?” Hoss called over to the black-vested man behind the bar as he approached the open end of the ten-foot long, highly polished countertop. Earlier, when the group first arrived and were getting settled down, Hoss had assisted Sam with bringing in extra supplies from the back storeroom. Immediately, Sam had taken a genuine liking to the big man, observing how carefully he handled his injured Pa and how the men seemed to respond to his easy leadership.

Sam moved down a few feet to stand alongside Hoss and bring him up-to-date. “Fellow just got a telegram from his fiancée. Turns out she’s still waiting for him down in Tucson, never gave up hoping he’d return, said to get his self down there as fast as he could. It’s the most excitement this town has seen in a while.”

“That’s real nice.” Hoss genuinely smiled but Sam saw the worry behind those blue eyes and the dejected way Hoss leaned himself forward onto his elbows as if his thoughts were a million miles away.

“What’s the matter, your Pa ain’t worse is he?” The barkeeper slid one of the extra beers in front of the disheartened man but Hoss showed no interest in the golden colored ale.

“No, doc says he was lucky, ain’t gonna be any permanent damage, but recovery’s gonna take a while. In the meantime, best way I can help him is to get up inta those mountains and find my brothers.”

The bartender nodded in empathy, already having heard many versions of last night’s events from the men themselves. “Hoss, I’m sure that posse is going to be ready to go real soon. In fact, Sheriff Higgins left word for you to go over to his office soon as you’re free.”

“Yep, that’s exactly where I was headed but I need to find Hank first, you know the tracker, long hair, pulled back with a piece of rawhide.”

“Sure, I met him. He’s right over there.” Sam pointed to a table of men relaxing in several of the bar’s barrel style chairs, talking freely, as they sipped a second round of fresh beers.

Hoss cast a glance at the indicated side of the room, shortly after which, his facial expression registered a bit of surprise. Thanking the bartender, Hoss made his way over to the table of men, many of them having been outfitted with new garments.

“Hank, I’m glad ya kept most of that beard or I might not a recognized you all spruced up like you are.”

“Ah now Hoss, don’t hurt a man to get his whiskers trimmed and sport some new duds every couple of years or so.” The wilderness man puffed out his chest. “Course in my line of work the animals don’t really care that much, but even a snake sheds his skin every once in a while.”

“Well, you look real fine Hank. Listen, I got something I’d like to talk to ya about. You got a few minutes?”

“Sure, what you got in mind Hoss?”

“Sheriff says he wants to see me. Thought you might be interested in tagging along.”

Hank readily agreed to join Hoss. Although he was curious he did not voice any questions aloud and placed his unfinished beer down on the table.

They met up with Robert on the walk across the street to the sheriff’s office.

Sheriff Higgins welcomed the trio into the office. “Hoss, how’s your Pa doing?”

“Doc Wilson says he’s gonna come ‘round but says it’ll be a few days ‘fore he’s able to move about.”

“I’m sure you’re relieved to hear that.”

“Yes sir,” Hoss answered while removing his tall white hat. “Sam told me ya wanted to see me.”

“Please take a seat gentlemen. Hoss, I’ve just received a couple telegrams. You, of course, will have special interest in them. The first was just a routine answer informing me that the circuit judge is due to be in Dawson next week and that I should continue holding the guard that worked for John Harkins in custody until he arrives here. He hopes that in that time frame, we will be able to also locate and arrest John Harkins himself.

Hoss nodded although arresting Harkins was the last thing he had on his mind for the Judge.

“The second one was from Roy Coffee.” Higgins watched as Hoss leaned forward in his chair, extremely interested in any message from his own hometown sheriff. One of the messages Hoss had sent earlier that day had been to Roy briefly outlining Billie’s death and the trouble they were involved in and that it might be several more days before they were able to make it home. “He wanted me to deliver this information to your family personally because he knows it’s going to come as a shock. While you’ve been away, the Virginia City bank was robbed.”

“What!” Hoss burst out in total disbelief, “When?”

“About three days ago. He said there was no way to get word to you as you’d been on the trail drive for the past couple weeks.”

Hoss’ head fell into his hands. It was all too unthinkable. How was he supposed to tell his father this in addition to everything else?

“Does he have any leads?” Hank inquired on Hoss behalf.

“It was a three man job. They have one man in jail, a Steve Cole. Does the name mean anything to you Hoss?”

“No.” Hoss shook his head, and then wiped his hands slowly down the length of his lap.

Sheriff Higgins paused for a moment then carefully dropped the next piece of information. “He has a brother named Sean.”

“Sean?” Hoss echoed as his head immediately flew up to look directly at Sheriff Higgins. “Ya don’t think?”

“Every man in this room is thinking it Hoss.” Hank reaffirmed. “Sean Cole, the bank robber, is probably the same man that took your brothers and Farley hostage. It all sorta fits. When the bank robbery went bad, Sean and his partner rode over to see their friend the Judge for some help and on the way stumbled across our little freedom camp.”

“They might be headed back again towards Virginia City.” Robert construed. “A man like Sean Cole isn’t going to let his brother sit in jail without trying to break him free and now he’s got hostages and help that will give him extra leverage.”

“I’ve got several descriptions of this Sean fellow from the statements we took. But they’re all somewhat vague because it was dark when the attack happened. I think we should gather them together and see what we come up with then send a sample over to Roy Coffee. See if anything fits. Hoss, I gather you haven’t filled Roy in yet on your brothers. There was no mention of them in Roy’s telegram.” The sheriff asked looking for affirmation.

“No, I sent the cable ‘fore I knew what had happened to ‘em.”

“I’ll do that for you when I send the next one. It sounds like he’d want to know, especially if those fellows are coming back his way.” Sheriff Higgins offered. “At the very least he’ll know which way to head the posse now.”

“If they are traveling over those mountains back to Virginia City, it sounds like somebody in that bunch knows the terrain and there aren’t many men who do. It’s pretty rough country up there, hardly any trails, but if you know where you’re going you can cut off a couple days ride.” Hank commented.

“But you know it don’t you Hank?” Hoss turned his head finally getting the chance to ask the question that had been burning inside him.

“Yeah, been my backyard for many years.”

“Ya think you might be able to figure the route they’re taking from here so that we wouldn’t have to backtrack to the campsite.”

Hank nodded having a feeling he knew where Hoss was going with this line of questioning. “Think so.”

“I need you to guide me up there Hank. Would ya be willin’?”

“Wait a minute now fellows.” Sheriff Higgins cautioned. “You two cannot just go after those men by yourselves, they’re dangerous. We need to put together a formal posse.”

“Sheriff, I really do appreciate the offer but that’s gonna take time and I don’t know how many men are willin’ to give up a week’s worth of work to go chasing a cold trail that may not even exist. Leastwise we know where they’re headed and Roy’s gonna have a posse on the other side.”

“What about your Pa?”

“Doc said Pa can’t ride for two or three days yet. We ain’t got that kinda time. My little brother is hurt bad. He needs help right now. I know Pa’s gonna want me ta do whatever it takes to get to him.”

“I can’t stop you from going on ahead, only advise against it. Just be assured that we will do anything we can for the men you brought here today and I’m still going to organize a posse to go back out to the campsite and see if we can’t pick up some sort of trail. When are you thinking of leaving?”

“Soon as I get a few things together sheriff and get Hank a mount,” Hoss rose from his seat.

Robert quickly stepped forward. “That’s one thing I know my Pa’s going to want to help you with Hoss. We’ve got a couple extra trail mounts you can borrow for as long as you need, out at the farm and we’ll take care of yours; give them a good rest. He’s been wondering how we can repay you for all your family’s done. Having Nick back again has totally brought the joy back into our home. And Ma is going to want your Pa to come out and stay at their place until he’s better.”

“Robert, that would truly be a weight off’n my mind if yer’ sure she’ll have him.”

“Better yet, go check with the doctor. If he’ll release your Pa, I’ll have Nick bring the buggy around and we can all go back to the farm together. I’ll also take Hank over to the general store and have him pick out any traveling gear you’ll need.”

Hoss nodded with gratefulness and then left, to do the last and hardest thing.

* * * * *

Hoss found his Pa awake when he arrived and outlined what had transpired in the sheriff’s office. As he watched his father’s spirit collapse at the news of the Virginia City bank, Hoss knew he was making the right decision. In order to give his family a chance at getting their lives back together again, these men were going to be held accountable and Hoss was going to make sure that happened.

“Pa, the Westfield’s are gonna take real good care of you.” Hoss finished. “And they’re invitin’ Charlie out to the farm too.”

“Don’t worry about me son. I just need you to be careful up there. We both know the type of men you’re dealing with and I want all three of my sons to be home when I get there.”

“Sheriff Higgins has promised to have any telegrams or news he gets from Roy sent out to you at the Westfield’s farm.”

“Hoss, I have a feeling Roy is sparing us a lot of details. The citizens of Virginia City must be in an uproar by now. They’ve had three days now to stew about this; a lot of their livelihoods were tied up in that bank and they’re probably ready to string up Steve Cole just to get some answers. I hope Sean can be found before that happens or Roy is going to have a full scale riot on his hands.”

“I know Pa. I’ll do everything I can to find ‘em but I can’t help but mostly want to do it for Adam and Joe’s sake.”

“Of course, that’s where your heart is, both of ours. Hoss, make sure you take those extra medical supplies that I packed in Joe’s saddlebag. I’m not in denial about how bad Joe probably is right now, but I’m praying that with Adam’s help, he’s going to be able to make it through this.”

“I’ve been doin’ a lot of that Pa; fer all three of ‘em.”

Wednesday – 4:00 pm – Help Wanted –Must Have Valid Tracker’s License

Hoss and Hank rode together easily. Hank had explained to Hoss that it would be quite a while before they reached any trails that might intersect with the paths the outlaws may have taken, maybe even a whole day before that happened.

“I worked this whole upper patch of wilderness for almost ten years now. I’ve taken the trails many times that come out on the backside of Virginia City but you do have to know how and where to cross through the high country because if you miss any of the identifying landmarks, you would easily get quite confused and very lost. It’s obviously not the most desired route, it can be treacherous in places, but if this is the passageway they’ve decided to take to get back there, it’s because they believe no one would have the guts or the know how to follow them up here. It’s the perfect way for them to get across country without drawing too much attention and they’d have countless places to hide out if and when they need to.”

“But with his brother sitting in Roy’s jail my guess is Sean ain’t gonna be wasting much time on the trail,” Hoss responded. “Like Sheriff Higgins said, he’s got plenty of reason to git back ‘fore the circuit judge arrives in town. I think, if anything, with ‘em being in such a gosh durn hurry it will only increase our chances of findin’ ‘em as they ain’t gonna be none too careful with details.”

“I’m just having a hard time figuring how they think they’re going to get away with all this. Even if we don’t catch them in time, they’re gonna be running right into another posse on the other end?”

“I don’t understand it either Hank but I do know this. The Judge and his friends are gonna stand a much better chance of staying alive if Roy catches ‘em instead of us.” Hoss replied; his statement laced with more than a touch of venom.

Wednesday – 6:00 pm – An Unbreakable Bond

Joe felt there would never be an end to this misery and wretchedness. Every bone in his body demanded rest. The muscles in his left arm screamed for release from the restraints that kept him tied to the saddle horn and the discomfort in his left hip spread all the way up into his lower back. He barely even heard the whispered expressions of encouragement that drifted his way from either Farley or Adam.

They stopped and made camp earlier than usual that night.

“Luke, I’m putting you in charge of our guests, it’s time they started earning their keep.” Judge announced as he dismounted. “Make sure they get these horses unsaddled and gather up plenty of firewood. If it’s as cold tonight as it was last night, we’ll need heat and Sean, we can start warming up by breaking out that bottle I know you got stashed somewhere in your saddlebag.”

* * * * *

“Adam, can we get help in Virginia City?” Farley whispered as he bent down to pick up a particularly large branch with a density that would give them several hours of burning time.

“Yes, but we’re still a long way from getting there.” Adam responded assuredly. “Right now we just have to concentrate on getting there alive.”

“Joe sure tested that idea earlier today when he tried to ride off.”

“I know. He’s exhausted and he’s not thinking clearly. At this moment I’m not even sure if he cares if he survives. He hasn’t said two words today. Joe usually fights his way though anything but with Pa gone it might be too much. I need some time to get through to him.”

Adam chanced a glance up from their conversation trying to give an indifferent outward appearance to anyone who might be looking in their direction. But the deception was unwarranted as the men were growing lax from the affects of the watered down alcohol being passed amongst themselves, truly believing their captives had no where to escape to. Adam was still baffled as to why the Judge was not pressuring him about the gold. It would be the perfect opportunity, but for the most part as long as they stayed in line, their treatment was tolerable.

“Look Farley, give me those smaller pieces you’ve collected there and I’ll take it over to Joe and get a cook fire going. Then drag the bigger pieces over to that warming fire our watchdogs started. If we can keep them cozy enough where they are, we may be able to keep their company at bay for a bit longer.”

“Got it Adam,” Farley nodded as he understood Adam’s wish to spend some time with Joe.

Adam turned, ready to check up on his brother, who he had left sitting on a log in the center of camp, but the log had been vacated. A quick glance around revealed his sibling standing at the outer edge of the camp area where the unsaddled horses had been picketed, all of them finally being given the rest they deserved. Joe was holding out a handful of long summer grasses to Buck. The gelding slowly, but continually was feeding from the edible offering. A momentary frown crossed Adam’s facial features as he wondered if his brother might be planning a repeat performance of his earlier escapade, but a harder look instantly dispelled that thought; his brother’s stance was one of total defeat.

Adam walked towards the middle of the camp where he dumped the armload of wood he carried onto the ground next to the few meager supplies that had been unpacked from the horses before making his way towards Joe. Even though Luke no longer hovered directly over them, having left to join his cohorts after uttering a warning about false moves, Adam knew they were warily being watched from across the campsite and that he would be stopped immediately for any behavior that was deemed out of line.

“Joe, I told you to sit down.” Adam was surprised to find the tone of his own voice was sharper than he wanted, his concern weighing heavily.

Joe shook his head in disbelief. “Still given orders, aren’t you Adam, even when there’s nothing left for you to be in charge of. Even with a gun to your head, you just can’t keep from trying to be the boss.” Joe said resignedly as he tossed the rooted ends of the grasses away and then reached out to pat Buck’s forehead when the horse nudged him for more.

“Joe, please we need to talk.” Adam moved closer to his brother’s smaller frame.

“Why?” Joe said indifferently, pulling slightly away from Adam’s touch. “Are you going to tell me I shouldn’t try to escape again?”

“No, you already know that wasn’t the smartest thing.” Adam replied patiently.

“It’s better than just sitting here waiting for them to kill us.”

“They won’t do anything until they have the gold.”

Joe responded with a single laugh of disgust. “Yeah, like they didn’t do anything to Pa.”

Adam waited until the tension strung moment died away, then tried again. “Joe, you’re my main concern right now.”

“Nothing for you to be concerned about.” Joe answered coolly, turning away to pluck another bunch of fresh grasses from the ground with his right hand even though the price his chest muscles paid was nearly unbearable but he did not want Adam to see the tears on his cheeks.

“Joe, Pa wouldn’t want you to give up. He’d want you to keep pushing through this.” Adam took a chance, “If not for me – then for Hoss. Just think what Hoss must be going through. By now, I’m sure he has joined up with Reed and found out what happened. He’s got to be frantic with worry about us. You know how much it takes to rile Hoss but I’m sure this has put him at the boiling point. I just don’t want him doing something crazy like bringing the gold back to the Judge.”

Joe didn’t answer or look at Adam but he could not keep the words from being mulled over in his mind. Hoss was alone trying to deal with Pa’s death. Even though he knew it was not their fault, Joe felt like they had abandoned their brother in the cruelest of ways. They should all be together now, no matter their differences, they were all Ben Cartwright’s sons.

“Adam,” Joe started as he scuffed the toe of his boot in the soft dirt. “Hoss needs us.”

Adam closed his eyes. It was a small admission but a powerful one.

“Yes he does but he’s not the only one Joe.” Adam encircled Joe’s upraised hand at the wrist, and stepped in front of Buck, forcing Joe to look at him instead. A pair of misty green eyes finally met his. “I know I’ve told you this before, but I’m not sure when you’re going to believe it. I need you too.”

Joe heard the anxiety in Adam’s voice and saw it in every angle of his expression, realizing that Adam was hurting as much emotionally as he was. Contritely, he wondered how he could have ever thought otherwise. “Hoss won’t give them the gold will he Adam?”

“I don’t know.” Adam answered truthfully. Hoss, very much like his father, would do about anything it took to get Joe and Adam back and if he had to steal the gold back from the Dawson Sheriff, Adam knew Hoss was more than capable of doing just that. “In the meantime it’s going to be up to us to try to get out of this.”

“Whatever you want to do, I’ll help.”

It was a step in the right direction and Adam felt a tinge of relief at the shift in Joe’s manner. But Adam did not express his own thoughts aloud as to how he mostly wanted Joe to help. Just stay alive, little brother.

Instead he asked Joe if the fall he took from the horse hurt his shoulder more.

“It hurts some, especially my arm, but it’s not really bleeding anymore. My hip got really bruised up though, I landed on it pretty hard but I can walk okay.”

“I’ll take a look at your shoulder after I get the fire started, just try not to use it too much. Paul will fix you up when we get to Virginia City. Right now come over and sit down, you’ve got to get some rest.”

Joe did not need any more encouragement; he was more than ready to begin trusting that his brother would be there next to him, watching, protecting.

Wednesday – 8:00 pm – Always Thank Your Hostess

“Ben, you really should go back to the guest room and lay down again.” Margaret urged while removing the dinner plate that sat untouched in front of Ben. “I should not have let you talk me into getting up. Next time, I’ll just bring you a tray.”

But Ben did not seem to notice her fluttering about the small round table where he, Charlie and the Westfield family members were gathered, his mind a hundred miles away looking out the front room window. It wasn’t until she refilled his coffee cup that he even really noticed her presence.

“Thanks Margaret,” he said appreciatively. “Do you mind if I take this coffee outside for a while?”

Margaret looked across the table at her husband as if to ask him for his opinion but Craig only gave her half a nod in response. He knew what having one son missing did to a man; he could not begin to imagine what it was like having two sons in total peril and another one headed in the same direction.

“Go ahead then Ben, but don’t be too long. The doctor said you need to rest and that charm of yours is only going to get you so far.”

Ben gave a warm smile to his concerned hostess. Even for his advanced years, Ben Cartwright was still a very distinguished looking man. “I won’t be long Margaret.” He promised her.

Ben stood at the fence post that bordered the Westfield property looking over the acres and acres of tall strong crops that still filled the land. In the background he saw where the hay fields had been recently cleared and stacked. It reminded Ben that the haying fields of the Ponderosa were overdue to be harvested. He had wanted to take care of it before they had left on the trail drive, but too many things had kept taking precedence. Now he wondered if his sons would ever see this year’s haying season, not that they would miss the activity itself. It always was a hot, sticky, hard job and usually did not bring out the best in their personalities but the job was necessary to the survival of the livestock through the winter season. It was after the haying season was completed that Ben usually gave everyone a couple weeks off.

Ben assumed Craig would be harvesting the rest of his crops soon. Farming was not an easy life; constantly worrying about weather and soil conditions, insects, varmints and winged creatures but then again neither was ranching. But of the two choices, Ben always knew he had made the right choice for himself. He could not imagine the Ponderosa ever reaching its full potential if he had chosen farming. Because of the type of land he had built on, he had been able to diversify from raising cattle into several different ventures like timber and horse breeding and even investing some shares in the silver mining industry. The land had given his sons the ability to choose areas that held special interest to them and had helped them grow into strong, responsible, fine young men. Now as he watched the sun slowly sink down, taking the last rays of light with it, Ben prayed his sons would be able to make it safely home.

* * * * *

“Ben, Margaret’s getting a mite worried. You’ve been out here over an hour.” Charlie appeared at his shoulder.

Ben looked up at Charlie but did not offer apologies for his absence. “You want to walk me over to the barn?”

“Sure Ben, any special reason?”

“Just one.” But Ben did not elaborate.

In the barn, Ben found the two Ponderosa horses, Chubb and Cochise stabled together. Ben ran an experienced hand over each of them as if they connected him directly to his sons.

Cochise especially seemed to push up against him as if seeking Ben’s familiarity. “I know Cooch, I want him too.” Ben ran a tired hand down the muzzle of the horse.

“Ben, it looks like the Westfield’s are taking real good care of them.” Charlie stated still confused as to what exactly Ben wanted to do.

“Yes, they have and I need to thank them. They’ve got them in good enough shape that I think they can make the trip now.”

“The trip?” Charlie was as confused as ever. “Who’s going somewhere?”

“We are. Tonight, that is if you feel up to it?”

“Ben, your brains must still be scrambled from that head wound. You’re talking crazy. Maybe Margaret is right, you’d better go back in the house and lay down.”

“No Charlie, I’m not crazy but I am desperate to get back to Virginia City as soon as possible. And as reckless as my idea is, I realize I can’t do this by myself, I’d really like you to come with me.”

“Ben, even if I did agree to it – the Westfield’s will never let you go. They’re feeling very responsible for you right now.”

“I know and if this were Joseph, I’d lock him up in his room for such foolishness, but it is because of Joseph that I need to get back. It’s just something my heart commands that I do and I know it’s a lot to ask – but will you come with me Charlie?”

“When do we leave?”

“A little after midnight, everyone in the house should be asleep by then. But I’ll leave a note. I don’t want them to worry them anymore than we need to.”

“All right. But until then Ben, will you please go make a pretense of getting some rest for Margaret’s sake.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile. If Joseph ever found out his own Pa was sneaking out after dark, he’d never hear the end of it. Ben fervently hoped Joe would get that opportunity.

* * * * *

“Ben, you’re awfully jumpy. I swear that’s the tenth time you’ve looked over your shoulder since we left the Westfield farm. There’s no one back there.” Charlie addressed his riding partner.

Ben did not answer. Instead he held up his finger to his lips and pointed over to a strand of foliage indicating Charlie should silently follow him. Doubtfully, Charlie obligingly followed Ben by pulling on Chubb’s reins and trailing Cochise’s hindquarters into the bush.

Approximately fifteen minutes later Charlie realized Ben’s intuitiveness was still intact despite the head injury as the silhouette of a lone rider could be seen coming up slowly along the road as if in no apparent hurry. Together they watched the rider come even closer until the moonlight was able to fully illuminate him.

“It’s Nick!” Charlie said in surprise. “Looks like he’s alone. You don’t suppose Craig sent him all this way just to bring us back?”

“The pace of Nick’s riding indicates he’s been following us rather than trying to catch up with us. Think if we want answers, we’re just going to have to go out there and ask him.” Ben urged Cochise back into the open. Nick realizing he’d been spotted rode forward to greet them.

“Hello Nick. Up a little late aren’t you?” Ben started easily.

Nick grinned sheepishly, “No later than you sir.”

“You alone or should we be expecting company?” Charlie asked.

“No, it’s just me, Pa doesn’t know that you’ve left the farm if that’s what you mean. My folks were still sleeping when I left to follow you.”

“Wouldn’t be because you were worried about two old men now, were you?”

“Maybe just a little,” Nick easily tossed back. “I’m sorry sir but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Charlie in the barn earlier tonight. I was up in the loft finishing some chores and heard the two of you talking. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone. I just want to come with you.”

“Nick, thank you for the offer but I can’t let you leave your family especially after we just got you back home.”

“Mr. Cartwright, I figure they’ll be a little upset with me for leaving but they’ll be a LOT more upset with me if I didn’t help you. Like you, I left them a note. I told them I’d send a telegram as soon as we got to Virginia City.”

“Kid’s got a point. I think the Westfield’s will actually worry less about you Ben if you have a couple traveling companions.” Charlie granted.

“And I know you were planning to have Billie’s horse picked up later, but this way his family won’t have to wait.” Nick patted the brown mare gently on the side of her long neck.

Charlie and Ben nodded. They had thought about bringing the extra horse with them but decided it might slow them down more than they wanted.

Nick smiled knowing the argument was definitely moving in his favor. “And,” he pointed to a heavy sack slung over the back of his saddle. “I bring gifts of food, gonna be a long ride on an empty stomach.”

“Well, maybe it will be all right.” Ben finally grudgingly agreed knowing from vast fatherly experience that he had just been smoothly slickered.

“But young man, the minute we hit Virginia City . . . .”

“I promise,” Nick hurried to reassure him. “Now what do you say we put some miles under these hooves.”

* * *

Chapter 7 – (Thursday)

Thursday – 6:30 am – Never Say Good-Bye

“Come on, git up. We’re leaving.” The side of a heavy boot connected with Adam’s bruised ribs and that act produced a deep inward groan. Adam had not meant to fall asleep, but the last four days of sleep deprivation and his over-worked system demanded its share of attention and he had inadvertently nodded off. His hand moved instinctively to his mid-section to try and still the radiating shards of pain that remained a souvenir delivered from the blow of the Judge’s rifle butt the previous day. Slowly, mindful of the internal ache, he moved up into a sitting position. The early dawn of the day threw lengthy shadows along the granite wall but their beacons brought no warmth. Adam glanced at Farley who had also been roughly kicked awake and the grim response he received told him Farley expected this to be just the first in a long line of unpleasant surprises for the day. So far Farley had been following Adam’s lead in retaining a controlled but primed outlook ready to use any opportunity to change their standings.

“You doing okay?” Adam whispered under his breath.

“Better than you probably, but I’ve got the advantage; had years of practice at this.” Farley replied, lowering his head a bit so the guards would not notice their conversation. “Had a nice little dream of freedom going on there for a while but now I’m back in the real world. You just do what you have to do to keep your brother safe.” He motioned towards the sleeping man’s curled up frame.

Adam had tried to keep a close vigil on Joe during the night in order to wake him when his unwanted dreams began actively tossing him about but a frown crossed Adam’s brow as the morning light revealed several dewy drops dotting Joe’s facial features indicating an elevation in the underlying fever that had up till now remained fairly dormant.

“Joe, come on, you’ve got to get up.” Adam whispered unable to physically help because of the restrictive ropes.

“I’m ready.” Joe mumbled as he rose up on his right elbow, struggling to disguise the aching of his body but Adam noticed the weakening of Joe’s strength. The small amount of improvement Joe had gained two days ago had long ago faded away and been replaced with an almost lifeless animation. But Joe’s determination was not aimed at himself, he only knew he wanted to help Adam.

The three were given a plate of cold beans and lukewarm coffee as the men finished gearing up for the ride. Joe just stared at the plate in his hands, the cold congealed mound of food looked about as large as the lump in his throat. Over and over his mind kept replaying the scene of his Pa lying there in the dirt, the ribbon of blood running from his temple and the numbing words that came from Luke as he pronounced him dead.

“Alright, that’s ‘nough, git on your feet.” The rough hand grabbed the plates away and dumped the non-eaten contents on the ground.

Adam awkwardly tried to help Joe stand, feeling his brother swaying against him. He walked beside Joe towards the horses as the stumbling steps gave further witness to his brother’s deteriorating state.

“Judge,” Adam shouted. “There is no way my brother can sit the saddle another day.”

“You just git him on there, we’ll tie him over the saddle if we have to.” Sean ordered.

“Let me take him on my horse.” Adam argued. “I assume you want him alive for some reason. Then you won’t have to worry about him keeping up.”

Harkins seemed to mull it over for a moment and then surprisingly agreed.

“I don’t git it!” Sean loudly complained to the Judge, voicing disapproval of the decision. “What can you possibly need that cripple for, he’s just slowing us down. We should have been a lot further along by now. Let’s just leave him here.”

“He’ll ride with his brother.” Harkins’ determination was firm and brooked no room for debate. “And untie both the Cartwrights, there’s no where they can go.”

Adam was puzzled by the unexpected approval of his request but he had gotten what he’d asked for. It was not the first time Adam had been witness to such a strange concession from the man. When in control of a situation, there was something in the man’s mind that needed his decisions to be justified as fair; perhaps even some strange touch of pride associated with his self-appointed name. Such as the time he gave Hoss permission to fight alone with the guard letting no one else interfere. Even when the guard had lost to Hoss, the Judge did not make retribution. But Adam knew dealing with the man was a fine line such as when the man lost his position of power, another side of him came to the forefront and Adam could still feel the pull of the chains around his throat.

Adam helped Joe up onto Sport and then mounted himself, gasping as the wide movement of his hips caused his ribs to take added pressure.

Adam whispered to Joe, “Just lean back against me and try to sleep.”

* * * * *

Three hours later, the trail began to narrow and the incline grew steeper. Tempers, already fueled by lack of sleep, food and anxiety, grew shorter as they found themselves roasting again under the rays of another day’s hot summer sun; the fiery orb not yet even risen to its full height. Adam, who earlier that morning had draped his own coat over Joe’s lighter weight green one as extra warmth, now helped Joe remove both of them and tied the garments to the back of his saddle.

Sean who was leading Adam’s horse up the constricting path began to have trouble controlling the footing of his own horse and pulled too hard on Sport’s lead reins. As Sean‘s horse felt the extra weight tugging on him from behind, the more skittish he became. Adam’s sure-footed gelding sensed the lead horse’s nervousness and began to pull back, moving off to the side fighting hard to pick his own path up the rocky pathway. Sensing loss of control on both horses, Sean yanked even harder on Sport’s reins trying to move the gelding up closer. Adam had to struggle to keep both Joe and himself upright in the saddle. Unable to have his head, Sean’s weary horse began to slide and stumble backwards over several small half-buried rocks; his haunches almost squatted beneath him. Sean jumped from the saddle to avoid a fall. Yelling while jerking hard on the reins only frightened the horse more, his huge eyes rolled wild with terror as he began slipping further down the trail in the sandy soil. Sean dropped Sport’s reins and followed his own horse downwards until the sliding stopped. Even with the reins dropped Adam still had no chance for escape caught on the trail in between the party of gunmen.

Angry but with his mount now under control, Sean walked his horse back up alongside Sport.

Walt by now had descended to check out the commotion.

“What’s going on Sean?”

“Darn fool horse, that’s what’s going on. Finish taking these yahoos up to the top Walt. Tell Judge I want to talk to him. I’ll meet you up there.” Sean demanded as he remounted.

At the top of the high trail, the group found themselves stationed at the entrance to a densely wooded section of mountain. Huge sixty-foot tall pine trees covered this upper landscape, grown thick and full with un-harvested forestry.

Judge waited until Sean rode up over the last of the hill and drew alongside him facing away from the others.

“What happened down there?” Judge demanded.

“Judge, they’re holding us back. We’d get a lot further if we weren’t riding with all that dead weight. I say we toss the kid off, like I wanted to earlier. What are you holding on to him for anyway? We got a right to know why you’ve got us taking such a risk with this fool notion of yours.” Sean’s short temper began rising in frustration.

“I’ve got my reasons.” Judge continued flatly, unwilling to explain further.

“Well they can’t be good enough to justify slowing us down so much we don’t make it back to Virginia City in time to get Steve out of jail. I say the rest of us have a say in this.”

Sean turned in his saddle no longer caring about the Judge’s opinion. “Walt and Luke, we’re taking a vote.” He yelled out, “I say we leave the kid here. Trail’s only going to get rougher and we need to start moving ifn we’re goin’ to make Virginia City by tomorrow. Judge, here has some weird idea we need the stupid kid for somethin’ but I don’t agree, seems to me two hostages are more than enough.”

Adam’s heart pounded in his chest and he instinctively folded his arm a little tighter about Joe. Farley looked over anxiously at Adam.

“I agree Judge, lessen you’re willin’ to share this big idea of yours with us, I don’t see no point in hangin’ on to him. Getting Sean’s brother out before they sentence him is more important than that gold right now especially since you can’t even prove Cartwright’s got it. For all you know it’s still back in the cabin.”

“They got it alright.” Judge answered with a firm resolution. “And if you want your share of it, you’d better hang on to that kid.”

Like the others, Adam, himself, still could not figure Harkin’s angle. Why had he let Joe come this far? Why had he even taken him from the camp? They were the questions Adam had asked himself over and over. Harkins knew Joe was no good to anyone; no good to anyone except . . .me. And then suddenly with a flash Adam partially understood. Harkins did not need to do any dirty work, he was letting nature do it all for him. As Joe deteriorated in his own arms, Adam would reach out anyway he could to save his own brother. The Judge was a man who played head games. It was the way he ran his prison. The blood of brotherhood was going to be a stronger lure for Harkins than the blood produced by a bullet. While Adam would otherwise be impossible to crack without using severe means, he would openly give anything to save his own brother’s life, including the vital information direct to Harkins to get his gold back. But Harkins was finding that with no camp full of prisoners to stand behind he was not the only decision maker in this party, he had competition in running the show.

Adam threw out an alternative play for Harkins to mull over. “Judge, why don’t you let them go on ahead? You can take Joe and I with you. They don’t need your help. One hostage is all they need if they want to do a prisoner exchange.”

Sean shockingly watched the Judge actually think about the idea and Adam knew instantly he was right. “Judge he’s just trying to break us up. If you bail on us now, we won’t forget it. No one here will help you fight to get that gold back. It’s not worth losing us over them especially since I know what’s even more important to you than the gold – that stinkin’ book. Together we can get it back, but if something happens to Steve then I’m not going to be able to help you.”

Harkins felt his grip on his scheme loosening. It should have worked but they were ripping his plans out from under him. Even if he did get Adam to break, he would never be able to recover his possessions alone. He needed Sean and the others. He would have to find another means of persuading the tough Cartwright.

“’Sides,” Sean pushed the advantage of the indecision Harkins was dealing with. “Roy Coffee ain’t no push over, he ain’t gonna just let Steve go. Like I told you when we started out Cartwrights are powerful, rich men Judge and I’m sure they got a lot of influence with the sheriff. Wouldn’t be surprised if they keep his back pocket well padded.”

“Yeah and a lot of it is my gold.” Harkins fired back.

“Judge, you help me get Joe to Virginia City and I’ll see that you are well paid.” Adam offered.

“That really funny Cartwright, you take my gold and then offer to pay me. Hardly makes sense now does it especially since Sean probably has a heap of Cartwright money from your little old bank right in his saddlebag. And don’t tell me again you don’t have my gold; you’re too smart. It’s the only reason you’re still alive Cartwright. If I really believed you didn’t know where that gold is at this very minute, you would be dying just as slow a death as your brother is. At least Hatch did something right before he turned useless.”

“All right,” Harkins finally conceded. “Pull him from the saddle.”

“You do this Harkins and you’ll never see the other side of this mountain.” Adam’s threat came deep and low, the use of the Judge’s real name deliberate now, stripping away all pretenses of authority.

Harkins just shrugged, his purpose for keeping one Cartwright alive had vanished.

Sean reached up grabbing Joe’s upper right arm to pull him from Adam, the movement jerking Joe sideways. Sean suddenly felt the toe of a black boot impacting with his stomach. Before he could recover, the leg was drawn back and swung forward again with double the force. Bending deep to protect himself Sean felt an immense weight land across his back. Seconds later the two men tumbled to the ground in one fighting, kicking ball of energy. Sean was not anywhere as tall as Adam but the rough survival skills bred from being an outlaw, made him a tough competitor. Luke started to dismount but the Judge’s touch on his arm indicated the time was not yet. Joe watched helplessly from the saddle cursing his weakness as he struggled to bring his injured left leg up so that he could dismount. A punch to Sean’s jaw flattened him and Adam pushed the advantage, his fists flying with fury at the downed man determined to make the most of the opportunity before it was gone. At Harkins signal Luke and Walt dismounted and grabbed up Adam’s arms from behind tightly constraining the struggling, angry, powerful mass of muscle in their grip. Freed of his relentless assailant, Sean rose from the ground, spitting the metallic taste of blood from his mouth. With eyes savoring the idea of retribution he began pummeling the captive Adam deep into his side and ribs. Shortly after, Adam heard the first crack and he knew instantly one of his already bruised ribs had broken. A powerful punch took out a second and Adam no longer had the ability to stand on his own.

Smugly Harkins sat atop his saddle relishing the sentence being brought about to one of the individuals so responsible for his loss of power.

Anger and concern motivated Joe to finally break free of the saddle. Heedlessly, he wedged himself between Sean and his brother, who had now fallen to his knees. The momentum of the curled fist, meant for Adam, landed instead just above Joe’s left eye; the velocity of it hurtling him face down into the dirt, blood trickling from the split skin.

Luke released his now superfluous hold on Adam, moving to snatch Joe up into his rough grasp.

“Isn’t that sweet? Your little brother’s come to help you Cartwright. It’s a pity you won’t be able to return the favor.” Luke pulled his gun and held it to Joe’s temple. “Now go get up on your horse or we can just end his misery right now.”

Adam looked up into Joe’s face; he understood the gunman’s threat was extremely real. There was no reason for them to keep him alive any longer. Adam had no choice; he would not let his brother be killed right in front of him. But if Joe was left here, it might be the last time he would ever see his brother alive. As the infection continued to catch hold Joe was growing noticeably weaker. It would take a miracle for his brother to survive alone out here in the middle of the wilderness without help. But Adam had to give him that small chance no matter how slim. Adam swore he would find a way to break free and return. Adam was hauled to his feet and pulled carelessly towards his horse. Passing by his brother’s side Adam strained hard against the hands that held him.

“Joe, hang on. I’ll be back,” was Adam’s distinct promise.

Joe lifted his head and nodded indicating he understood.

As Adam remounted Sport and his hands were tied harshly to the saddle horn, his heart tore at the thought of this possibly being the last time he might ever see his brother. He knew he’d never be able to explain to Hoss why he was unable to protect their sick brother or to himself. To his Pa and to Joe’s mother, Marie, he silently pleaded forgiveness.

Sean practically dragged Joe to a pile of boulders; where Joe slid down to sit with his back against the rocks still not fully comprehending what was happening, his dulled senses told him his brother was in trouble but all the voices seemed so distant, so far away.

“At least be human enough to give him a canteen.” Adam begged.

“Ain’t any use in wasting good water.” Sean vetoed snidely as he grabbed up Adam’s reins and then mounted his own horse.

A command to ride had the group moving on.

Adam kept Joe in sight for as long as he could, before the trees hid the open spot from view. He fought hard to hide the rage that threatened to overflow induced by the act of such callous abandonment and the remorse of his own unintended cruelty ripped through him like a hot blaze.

Joe, I swear I’ll find a way.

Thursday – 11:00 am – Carried On The Wind

When Joe awoke almost an hour later, he found himself lying alone on the hot dusty trail, disoriented by very unfamiliar territory. He fought to recall how he had come to be there, finally remembering his brother’s words saying he’d be back; but back from where, where had Adam gone and why had Adam left him here in the hot sun? His mouth was parched and his tongue as dry as sandpaper, bringing his focus on water. Joe looked towards the side of the road where the foliage deepened and the image of Adam’s chestnut horse disappearing into the cover of the forest arose in his mind, but that seemed like such a long time ago. Joe reached up automatically with his left hand to wipe a trickle of sweat from above his eye and simple action sent rockets of pain coursing through his shoulder and chest. Immediately his right arm went protectively to the shoulder to still the pain. The panting that the pain had created only enhanced his thirst and soon water became the consuming thought. First water, then Adam. Gotta be a stream in those trees somewhere. Just gotta go look, can’t stay here. Too hot. Joe pulled his right hand away from his shoulder and noticed the palm had been tinted red. For the first time that day Joe lifted the front panel of his shirt and stared almost unattached at the dressing that had been absorbing the blood from the wound where the stressed stitches had finally given way during the morning ride. It really didn’t look all that bad, not like it had the last time. Must be getting better. Joe used the back of the boulder to help push himself up against it until he was able to gain his feet. He waited until the dots in front of his eyes cleared and the trees ahead came back into focus. Concentrating on putting just one foot in front of the other he slowly began moving forward finding a struggling stride. He tucked his left arm into the slot between the buttons on his shirt preventing the shoulder from swaying. Frequently the back of his right hand found it’s way to his brow, wiping away the drops of perspiration that gathered there as well as the small gnats that were drawn to the smell of the man’s sweat. The heels of his boots caught often on bits of exposed tree roots, pinecones, stones and other protruding objects causing him to stumble. Some time later, swarms of buzzing black flies made Joe take notice of a large pile of horse droppings in his path. It was just further proof to Joe that his brother had gone this way and it encouraged him onwards. Even when his lungs burned with lack of oxygen and his limbs trembled he kept going.

At first, it was a bit hard to distinguish from the ringing in his ears but as he ambled forward, the intensity of the volume increased letting him know he was close. A wobbling in his knees made him grab onto the trunk of a nearby tree for support. Straightening himself upright he pushed on as if drawn by an invisible hand. The sight made him blink with relief, a small rushing stream cascaded down hard over a series of three rocky steps, the clear transparent liquid beckoning him. He could almost feel the coolness from where he stood. He bit the corner of his lower lip in anticipation of the needed refreshment. Now a few feet from the wet mossy bank, his foot slipped and he fell. No! Get up, he commanded himself in frustration while his body fought another round of spiraling dizziness that laid him totally flat. Please, I can do this. Unbidden tears, fraught with helplessness, came as Joe stretched out his right hand and began to pull himself along the ground but the pressure on his torso and chest was immense. Even as he dragged himself just those few inches he felt a cocoon of darkness begin to encase so tightly around him that he knew he was going to lose the battle he was so determined to win. Desolately, his head finally fell upon his outstretched arm as he surrendered himself to the warm earth of the forest floor. But before his fragile hold on the world was relinquished, a single breath formed the whispered word. Pa!

No one heard the lone plea as it was carried away on a puff of light wind, spiraling noiselessly upwards and dispersing itself among the deep green far spreading branches of the colossal pines.

Thursday-1:30 pm – Filtered Rays of Light

“Some more activity took place up here.” Hank observed as he reached the top of their last ascent. He pointed out the boot prints mingled amongst the equine impressions. “Probably had something to do with that horse backsliding on the trail below.”

“These markings here next to Sport’s prints are from Joe’s boots.” Hoss instantly recognized the size and shape of the boot prints that were as familiar to him as his own.

“Also appears there was quite a big scuffle.” Hank pointed out more of his findings. “Two sets of prints lead out of that jumble and head over to these rocks, looks like some of ‘em belong to Joe. Might be what the fight was about.”

Hoss followed the line of disturbed soil when he spotted something that made him drop suddenly to his knee and pick up a small quantity of dirt rubbing it between his fingers, feeling the texture on his fingertips.

“What did you find?” Hank asked noticing the frown that crossed the big man’s face.

Hoss looked down again at the substance that coated his fingers. “Blood,” he answered flatly.

Although both men knew Joe was injured, it was the first evidence they had come across.

“Looks like the group rode off and left him here.” Hank verified the further direction of the tracks.

Hoss’ heart sank. He had no way of reasoning why his brother had been abandoned, all he knew was that if Adam could have stopped them he would have, which indicated that Adam was in just as much trouble as Joe. “We’ve gotta find Joe.” Hoss’ anxiety was rising with fear of what two days in the saddle had done to Joe’s frail state of health. Hoss stepped up into the stirrup and swung onto his borrowed horse’s broad back feeling the need to start moving as fast as possible.

“We will.” Hank reassured the troubled man. “We should take the fact that he’s able to move as a good sign but he couldn’t have gone far being injured and on foot.”

“He’ll probably get farther than we’re thinkin’.” Hoss confirmed. “Little Joe’s got a strong will all his own and if’n Adam’s in trouble, Joe’s headin’ straight for it.”

“I never would’ve believed how much stamina that kid has unless I’d seen it myself.” Hank said appreciatively mounting back on his horse. “Running up that mountain with a bullet in him just to rescue us all from that prison camp. Ain’t never seen anything like it in sheer determination and I’d really like to return the favor.”

Knowing they could not afford now to miss any clues along the trail, they kept their horses at a walk watching the ground for any type of sign and began their entrance into the thickening woods heading straight for the vast mountain ranges of trees that loomed up ahead of them.

During the next sixty minutes they made their way deeper and deeper inside the boundless territory of virgin forestland trying to keep their search patterns as wide as possible.

Hoss pulled his mount to a halt taking a moment to rest his eyes from the tedious work. “How far do you reckon we are from Virginia City?” Hoss queried.

“From here, without messing around, about twelve hours.” Hank answered as he indicated some flattened bushes underneath a medium sized cypress.

Hoss studied the nearby ground where Hank pointed then let his eyes drift upwards to the actual trunk of the tree. A strange marking made him steer his horse closer to the tree for examination. It was then that his heart skipped a beat. Four short parallel lines of blood streaked across the smooth brown bark.

Hoss reined his horse to walk around the base of the wide tree trunk and forward through a dense patch of prickly scrub brush. Once through he found himself inside a large clearing of softly covered ground. Tall trees bordered the open land but here in the middle of the patch, unfiltered rays of afternoon sun made their way down, unhindered, to bathe and warm the earth. The sound of a fast running brook, who’s origins came from way back in the trees was the first thing that caught Hoss’ attention. It was over in this back section that his eyes grew wide at a discovery. Stretched out flat on the ground just a few yards ahead of him he spotted a set of light brown boots that protruded from underneath a pair of soft gray pants, the colors of the clothing blending seamlessly with the hue of the stacked granite rocks and deep rich earth. The figure’s upper torso was hidden behind the next set of boulders but it was an outline that Hoss would recognize anywhere.

Joe! Hoss’ mind reeled at the sight. He dismounted and began running forward his heart in his throat. Please Joe, a fervent prayer on his breath. Please, still be alive… Hoss knelt down beside Joe’s frame, which was folded over onto his right side to the point Hoss could not see Joe’s face or chest. Shakily Hoss reached down and placed two fingers along the cords on the side of Joe’s neck feeling frantically for a pulse. Hoss tried to keep panic from rising in his throat when his probing fingertips were met with an awful stillness. Gently but quickly Hoss rolled Joe over onto his back, Joe’s head flopping into Hoss larger hand revealing a ghostly whiteness of flesh. Don’t you dare be gone Joe, don’t you dare. Hoss threw his ear down to listen to Joe’s chest disregarding the blood stained shirt. If there was no heartbeat, Joe’s injuries would not matter. It seemed as time hovered in this spot as Hoss closed his eyes and listened hard, willing his brother’s chest to rise beneath him. Hank unwrapped a canteen from around his own saddle horn and walked over as the gentle large man checked his younger brother for signs of life and felt an overwhelming apprehension wash over him.

When Hoss finally sat back upright on his heels and lifted his eyes heavenward, releasing his breath through pursed lips, the air seemed to stir again, giving him a draft of hope. Hoss now took time to get a closer look at Joe. He could feel the heat of Joe’s fever even without touching him. Joe’s entire body was covered in a fine sheen of moisture and large patches of wetness soaked through Joe’s shirt especially noticeable down the middle of his back and under his arms. When Hoss had last seen Joe, he had been in a lot of pain and exhaustion; but he had not looked as if he was only one breath from fading away as he did now.

“Little brother, you’re giving me some right good worries. Pa sent me to fetch you and Adam both back to him so you hang on with everything ya got. You hear me Joe? There ain’t gonna be no livin’ with Adam if he blames himself for this. I need ya to help me find Adam and show him yer’ gonna be okay so we can all go home.” Hoss pleaded aloud hoping to reach the deep recesses of Joe’s subconscious mind.

“Looks like he was trying to make it to the stream.” Hank observed the fistful of dirt still clutched in Joe’s outstretched arm as he kneeled on the opposite side of Joe across from Hoss. “He musta been powerful thirsty. We’re going to need to get some water into him somehow.”

Hoss reached up and pulled Joe’s extended arm into his hands, unclenched Joe’s fist, letting the dirt fall from his palm then placed Joe’s arm down next to his right side, after which he took the opened canteen Hank held out to him.

With his fingers, Hoss applied wetness to the outside of Joe’s cracked and dry lips. “Hank, they give you a clean neckerchief back in Dawson? I never did replace mine.”

Hank pulled one from his vest pocket and handed it over to Hoss who drenched it in water and pinched off the excess before gently easing the folded fabric between Joe’s lips. “Joe, you ain’t gotta try anymore to make it to the water hole, I’ve got plenty for you right here; you just gotta wake up and you can have all ya want.”

While the material worked to coat the inside of Joe’s mouth and loosen his dried tongue with desperately needed liquid, Hoss took his hand and applied liberal amounts to the dirt caked face and neck.

“We gotta look at that wound.” Hank encouraged, knowing it was a hard thing for Hoss to have to do but vital if they were going to be of any real help to Joe.

Hoss nodded and stood, stepping to the running stream he washed the trail dust from his hands. Upon opening Joe’s shirt they determined that the filthy, twisted, sweat-soaked cloth bandage that looped over Joe’s shoulder and wound back around his chest was beyond salvaging. Pulling a knife from his boot Hank sliced the binding open.

Gingerly Hoss pulled away the soiled cotton, which was filled with both fresh and encrusted blood as well as mixture of other oozing substances. Upon revealing the puckered, slightly open wound, which was already beginning to show signs of closing, Hoss grimaced. Tails of broken black thread stemmed the perimeter of the hole, the sewn stitches having broken a long time ago. The injured tissue was angry and raw from which several red streaks spread outward across a background of deep purple and orange bruising.

“I can tell from the bandage and from his shirt that he’s been bleeding fer some time, but somehow I thought there’d be more blood than this.” Hoss said puzzled.

“It’s the infection.” Hank explained. “It’s blocking everything else out. The wound is filled with so much pus and contamination the blood can’t run free. It’s probably what saved him from bleeding too much in the saddle, but it’s also the thing that will most likely kill him. Without a doctor and proper medicine all we can do is try and slow down the spread of blood poisoning by draining and cleaning it out best we can.”

“Can you get my saddlebag?” Hoss requested. “I’ve got extra bandages and supplies in there.”

Hank quickly retrieved the double-ended leather cases and handed them to Hoss who placed the set of brown rawhide pouches on the ground beside him and unbuckled one of the large pockets. Several items spilled towards the opening including a rectangular shaped roll made of black velvet that was tied together with an attached narrow black ribbon. Hoss reached for this item and unrolled the soft velvet case in his hand. When opened it revealed a set of gleaming metal tools including the scalpel Adam had used earlier to remove the bullet.

“I’m glad your Pa thought to pack those doctor tools. The scalpel is exactly what we need to reopen the wound and let it drain.” Hank’s relief came from the fact they would not need to use their large hunting knives for the delicate surgery, which would probably result in making the nasty wound even worse. Hank looked over at Hoss. Hoss was holding the delicate instrument lightly in his palm and thinking how easily he could snap it in two with his own large clumsy hand. What if he could not hold back on his strength, if he applied too much pressure? Hoss could not help but recall how steadily Adam had been able to wield the exact same tool just three days ago and wondered if Adam had ever had these same doubts. Adam, of course, never outwardly showed any lack of self-confidence but in some connected way Hoss knew his older brother had wrestled with his own fears, made more vivid by the fact that this was their own brother that they had to keep hurting.

Hank read the troubled look on Hoss face. “I’ll do it if you need me to.”

Before Hoss’ decision was voiced, a soft groan made both of them look upward at their patient’s sign of returning consciousness. Several more groans were emitted as Joe’s reawakening senses began to comprehend just how much misery his body was in.

Hoss began to encourage Joe to push through to the final stage of awakening. “Joe, yer’ okay now, ole Hoss has got ya.”

Joe finally managed to open his eyes, which glistened with fever, and looked towards the sound of the voice that called him. He recognized the tone – familiar and comforting. Though his vision was blurred, the figure was large enough for Joe to focus on.

“Hoss,” Joe said simply, the chapped lips working in conjunction with the image his mind recognized.

“Yeah Joe, it’s me. You just lay quiet now. I’m gonna take care of you but first I need ya to drink some water.” Hoss held the canteen to Joe’s mouth determined to get as much as he could into his fevered flesh before he passed out again. Joe took a few deep draughts from the canteen while bits and fragments of the past days flashed through his memory but the pieces were too disjointed to string them together coherently. The one memory that Joe seemed to have the strongest recollection of was of his Pa falling against him while ribbons of red blood streaked through a head of gray hair. As Hoss laid Joe’s head gently back down on the ground, tears began to well up heavily in his eyes.

“Joe?” Hoss was alarmed but confused, as a few of the tears broke loose and rolled down Joe’s left cheek. Hoss looked Joe’s frame over quickly but Joe was not indicating the source of any debilitating pain. The tears seemed to come from something that was hurting him deeper than his own body. Hoss’ first frantic thought was their missing brother. As much as Hoss hated to do it he pressed Joe for answers. “Joe, what is it? Is it Adam?”

Surprisingly Joe lightly shook his head and his eyes welled up again with a fresh batch of tears. He lowered his lids to try and hold the watery droplets back but they began seeping out from beneath the two lines of long black eyelashes. Hoss didn’t know. Joe didn’t have enough strength to explain.

“Pa . . . Pa’s . . . dead Hoss.” Joe finally said flatly and then tried to curl back over onto his side and roll up within himself, the pain so great in his heart that he did not even seem to notice the agony that traveled through his own arm.

Hoss quickly reached out and stopped Joe’s movement, pinning him in place while he took a moment to comprehend how Joe had come to that startling conclusion.

“Reed said Joe was with your Pa when he was shot but that the Judge took him away right after it happened.” Hank remembered. “He probably never got a chance to find out what came about afterwards.”

“If’n Joe thinks Pa is gone, then its probably likely that Adam does too.”

“Poor kid, thinking all this time his Pa is dead.” Hank sympathized.

Hoss suddenly became extremely aware of how crucial it was that Joe be made to understand the truth. If Joe did not believe his father was alive, his disheartened spirit would never give him the will to fight through his own life threatening injuries.

“Joe,” Hoss pulled his little brother back flat onto the ground. Cupping his hand under Joe’s jaw Hoss turned Joe’s grief-stricken face until they were looking directly at each other. “This is very important. I need you to hear me Joe. Pa is NOT dead! I saw Pa after you and Adam were taken. He’s gonna be all right, the bullet just grazed him. He’s NOT dead Joe. Do ya understand?”

Joe locked eyes with his brother, searching for any sign of mistruth but those blue eyes were ones Joe had trusted from the time he had been born. “Not dead . . .?” The voice was a whisper.

“Not dead Joe,” Hoss confirmed solemnly. “He’s alive. The doctor in Dawson said he’s gonna be fine but right now he’s awfully worried about you and Adam.”

“They took Adam. He said he’d come back for me but he hasn’t. Where’d he go Hoss?”

“I don’t know Joe, but we’re gonna go find him just as soon as we get you patched up again.” Hoss explained.

“Can’t ride . . . Adam had to help me.” Hoss knew Joe’s admission of having accepted assistance proved just how tired and ill his brother was, the thick walls of self-pride completely torn away.

“I know he did and now I’m gonna help ya Joe, but first thing we need to do is tend to that wound of yours. It’s festerin’ Joe, makin’ you sick. I have to cut it open and let the poison drain out. It won’t be as bad as when Adam took the bullet out but it’s gonna hurt plenty.”

“It’s all right Hoss, you’re good at fixin’ things . . . you can make it better.”

Animals are one thing, little brother, yer’ a whole different story and even with those critters I usually got me some type of proper medicine. Hoss picked up the scalpel again but this time he knew he had the determination to do what needed to be done.

Hoss sliced through the patchy layer of wafer thin scabbing that had begun to crust over the top of the open wound and immediately a combination of yellowy tinged pus, dark rusty blood and a clear liquid drained out. Hank quickly wiped away the foul fluids with one of the cotton pads. Joe cried aloud at the further intrusion into his flesh but he tried hard to remain still for Hoss. Hoss cut away a few small sections of tissue near the surface that were totally infected. It wasn’t until Joe saw Hoss pull the flask of alcohol out of the bag that his eyes grew large with panic. He remembered only too well the last two times his wound had been doused with the fire liquid.

“I’m sorry Joe. Ain’t no help fer it.” Hoss apologized remorsefully having laid witness to the previous episodes. “Hank, you might want ta grab hold of Joe when I do this. We ain’t had real good experiences with this treatment.” True to Hoss’ prediction, as the burning liquid hit and soaked into the raw inflamed flesh, Joe’s back bowed deeply upwards and he twisted violently as the pain exploded like fireworks into his brain. A couple minutes later his body slackened in mid-air and he thumped back to earth unconscious.

“Pretty rough stuff on the kid,” Hank commented a bit taken back by the scene.

“And this is the third time we’ve had to do it him.” Hoss agreed. “And with what I’ve got in mind it ain’t goin’ get much better.”

“What are you thinking Hoss?”

“Well I ain’t sure if’n it’s gonna work but like you said we gotta keep the wound open and draining, yet we gotta keep it closed tight for when we’re ridin’ or he’ll lose more blood. So I’m thinkin’ we take some small pieces of this gauzy store bought bandage stuff here and soak ‘em real good in alcohol. We stuff ‘em down deep into the hole. That will lock in the alcohol and keep the wound clean. If we leave a bit peekin’ out of the top, the wound can’t close, but we could still push the skin together real tight when we chest wrap him and that should help keep him from bleeding too much.”

“It might just work.” Hank agreed in the validity of the idea. “But you’ll have to change the gauze stuff every two to three hours or the alcohol might dry up and not do any good.”

“Or get dried to the inside which would be a real mess.” Hoss admitted. “I guess we ain’t gonna know until we try it, but I don’t have any other ideas have you?”

“It’s not gonna hurt none to try it.”

“Well it ain’t gonna hurt us none but I ain’t looking forward to goin’ through this with Joe every time.” Hoss admitted. “If we ever find Adam, I bet he’ll come up with somethin’ real fine.”

“Right now Hoss, your Pa and Adam would say Joe is in no better hands.” Hank assured him knowing that half of Joe’s battle was already won just from being with one who cared about him so deeply.

Hoss mounted first taking his place behind the saddle and then let Hank lift Joe up into his arms. Joe had still not regained consciousness and Hoss was partially relieved hoping it would be a while yet before the boy did come to. They needed a few hours of serious tracking time before the light began to fade too much.

* * *

Chapter 8 – (Thursday Evening)

Thursday– 6:00 pm – Cave-Dwellers

Several hours later the pair of trackers with Joe in hand began descending the steep summit following the dozens of switchbacks and zigzagging trails, sometimes so narrow, they wondered if mountain goats ever ventured through here. About half way down this side of the mountain a trail fork presented itself and Hank pointed to the path on the right as the one they needed to take.

Hoss visually noted the indicated area but what he saw imprinted on the downward trail to Virginia City trail puzzled him. When it finally registered that the smudged hoof prints he was looking at were backwards, he understood there were now additional riders involved. “Lookie here,” Hoss motioned back to the division in the trail where a jumble of curved markings came together in the dirt. “All these new prints mesh up at the fork with Adam’s group and continue on up the mountain instead of goin’ back ta town. What do you s’ppose it means?”

“Those additional tracks look fresh, can’t be more than an hour old. Someone is either following the Judge like we are or they’ve got reinforcements joining them and I don’t care for the latter.”

“I’m sure hope’n it’s the following them choice myself.” Hoss spoke. “I know it might be too much to wish, but I sure wouldn’t complain if those prints belonged to Roy’s posse.”

Hank stretched out his arm as a guide. “Couple miles up that way, at the base of that upper cliff, there’s a large cave. It would be a great place for someone to hang out tonight as the trails get kinda treacherous with dark coming on.”

“If Adam is up there I sure want to know about it and if’n Roy’s onto ‘em, he’s goin’ to need help.”

“There’s only one way for us to find out. We’ll take that trail as far as we dare, leave the horses and go in on foot until we figure out what we’re dealing with. But light’s going to be fading soon so we need to get moving.”

* * * * *

Adam and Farley were pulled from their horses and pushed roughly through the narrow mouth of the cave. Surprisingly, once through the entrance, they found they could stand upright without stooping. Two torches were taken from a crevice in the cave wall, left from some past visitor and lit. With the glow from the flames the rough interior walls of the cave came into focus. The space was actually a lot larger than it first appeared with an unexpected high ceiling and room for about a dozen men. A rifle tip was pushed into Farley’s back urging him to keep moving until they reached the middle of the cave where a circle of rocks, centered on the cave floor, showed evidence of previously burned fires. The back area of the cave consisted of scattered boulders and deep crevices steeped in such utter darkness it was hard to tell exactly how far back it went.

“It’s near freezing in this place.” Sean shivered. “Walt, you and Luke start hauling some wood in here.”

“I’m getting darn sick of your orders Sean.” Walt snapped back exhibiting the exhaustion they all were feeling. “Why don’t you do some of the chores for a change?”

“Keep up the attitude Walt, certainly don’t mind splitting the money one less way.”

“Come on Walt, it won’t take long.” Luke offered with more on his mind than just the idea of cooling Walt off.

* * * * *

Roy’s approach to the cave, on foot, was cautionary, but when no posted outlooks presented themselves he got the sense the outlaws were feeling fairly safe up here. In fact the only evidence that anyone was even in the area was the group of horses that stood still saddled and tied several yards from the entrance of the cave; among them Ben and Adam’s familiar mounts. Roy had no plans to show his hand just yet. His only strategy was to find out exactly who was inside the cave and what they were up to.

The first clue came minutes later when two trail dusty men emerged from the cave. Roy motioned to his two deputies to duck for cover and keep quiet, planning only on observing the men’s actions at this point. Exhibiting no sense of urgency in their pace, the men walked towards a small patch of ground that was littered with fallen tree growth and began to half-heartedly gather up chunks and split pieces of wood. Totally immersed in their own plans, Luke and Walt seemed oblivious to the fact that just a few steps away, a silently watching posse were within earshot of their entire conversation.

“Walt,” Luke cautiously began not exactly sure how much he was ready to trust Sean’s partner. As seconds-in-command, the two men had only had minimal dealings with each other. “How bad do you want to go back to Virginia City?”

Walt was a bit startled as if Luke had somehow been reading his thoughts. “Not much at all.” He finally confided. “Don’t mind telling ya I’m getting more and more ready to just take off. Sean’s bossiness is getting under my skin. I know he’s worried about his brother and all but why do I gotta risk my own neck?”

“What about the money – don’t you want your split?” Luke asked in surprise.

“Sure I do – but I can’t spend it if I’m sitting behind bars. Shoulda figured things were going downhill when we found you and the Judge being hauled back to Dawson. And I’ve been thinking that if’n we do get hauled in for the bank robbery – they’ll also say we helped Sean kill that Cartwright fellow.”

“Yeah,” Luke agreed. “I ain’t so anxious to stick my head into that noose either and once they start nosing around they’ll find I’ve got more notches on my belt than just Cartwright.”

“What about the Judge – he swears he’s going to get the gold back.”

“It’s just what he wants to believe. There’s no evidence Cartwright even knows where the gold is. Judge ain’t been able to break him yet. I figure the gold will surface sooner or later and I’ll go after it then. But if you’re ready to make a split from Sean, it’s got to be tonight.”

Hearing the references of the Cartwright name in the men’s confession made the hair on the back of Roy’s neck stand up. Although Walt’s description matched up as one of the known bank robbers, this was the first sign, other than the horses, that linked both these men to Adam and Joe’s abduction. At least, Roy thought gratefully, he knew from Sheriff Higgins that Ben Cartwright had survived the shooting.

Walt nodded. The thought of bailing had been circling around inside his head all day but he had figured, that, alone, he wouldn’t stand a chance against Sean’s wrath. This surprise addition of an ally now made retreat a real possibility. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Let’s do it. Later tonight we can make some excuse to look after the horses and just ride off.”

“Before we leave though I’d like to get my hands on some of that bank money, not too much, so Sean wouldn’t notice it was missing till later.” Luke proposed.

“Won’t be easy. Sean keeps a close eye on it.” Walt could visualize how angry Sean would get over finding the money gone. Killin’ mad Walt ruefully thought but then realized Sean wouldn’t be able to do anything about it till he got his brother free from jail and by then he and Luke would be long gone.

“Come on, let’s get back inside with this firewood. Don’t want them thinking we’ve been out here jawing too long.”

Roy motioned his deputies to stay where they were as they watched the two outlaws head back towards the cave’s entrance.

* * * * *

A short time later, having chosen to take the high trail back at the fork, Hank led Hoss into an area strewn with large rocks and boulders. “This is as far as we go with the horses.” Hank said as he dismounted and helped take Joe from Hoss’ saddle. They walked him over to a nearby boulder and let him recline back against a slanted slab of hardened slate. Hoss bundled up his coat and slipped it behind Joe’s head.

“Hoss,” Joe’s thin voice was weak but determined. “You gotta help Ad’m.”

Hoss was a bit taken back at the level of Joe’s coherency as he had mostly been drifting in and out of a half sleep as they had rode and, except for the one time they had stopped to change Joe’s dressing, he had said very few words. “Now Joe, ya know Adam does a pretty good job of lookin’ after hisself.”

“No . . .” Joe couldn’t get enough breath but was desperate to make Hoss understand. “Adam hurt . . .”

“Hurt?” Hoss was a bit startled at the thought but then realized he had had no way of knowing and Joe had been too out of it to mention it before. “How hurt is he Joe?”

“Beat him . . . bad . . . couldn’t help.” Hoss caught the remorseful trembling in Joe’s voice as it trailed off and Hoss knew he had used his energy to speak for his brother.

“Now Shortshanks, Adam knows you wanted to help him. He’s gonna be alright, don’t ya fret none.”

Joe looked up knowingly at Hoss, “Careful . . . .”

Hoss nodded, hefted up his rifle and with Hank began to wind their way through a patch of protective rocks until they found themselves on a small rise that overlooked the area directly below. From their vantage point, the opening of the cave was clearly visible as well as the figure of a very familiar lawman and Hoss breathed in relief.

* * * * *

Together Hoss and Hank picked their way down the rocky cliff side keeping cover among the brush filled terrain. Hoss did not want to risk calling out to the sheriff, afraid it might alert the cave’s inhabitants. Edging his way further through thorn covered branches he came up almost directly behind the hidden man tucked up aside a large rock. Hoss quietly called out Roy’s name letting him know of his advance.

“Hoss!” The surprise in Roy’s voice was uncontained. “I sure am glad to see ya.”

“I reckon that makes two of us.” Hoss remarked. “What have you found out so far?”

“I haven’t been here that long but about fifteen minutes ago a couple of them men poked themselves outside. Recognized one of them as Sean’s man. There was some talk between them about Sean so I’m sure he’s here. Two of your family’s horses are over there so I’m assuming your brothers are with them. Don’t know whom else,” Roy capsulated the events in the interest of time. “The main thing we gotta do now is find a way ta look inside that cave.”

“Roy . . . Adam is in that cave being held hostage by that bunch, but we found Joe a while back. Problem is he won’t be able to help us, he’s hurt.”

“You’ve got Joe?” Roy asked incredulously. “Well I’m mighty relieved to hear that. Now we need to concentrate on getting Adam out of there too. Hoss, you know my deputies, Taylor and Jacobs, from town?”

Hoss nodded in acknowledgement but it was followed by a deep frown. “Roy, I thought ya’d have a few more men sworn in. These are some dangerous outlaws you’re trying to take on here.”

“Yup, I got four more men in our group, but we split up this morning when we found us a couple of different trails. They were still out searching when we got the tip to come up here. I left word in town fer them to join us, but I don’t think they’re going to make it on time. Taylor and Jacobs have both been up here before and were just describing the inside of this here cave, it’s seems purty basic.”

“Then you fellows probably know there is a rear entrance to this place that we should check out.” Hank commented.

“When was the last time you used it?” Hoss questioned.

“Couple of years ago. If the scrub brush hasn’t grown up too bad, we should still be able to get through there.” Hank replied.

“It’s worth takin’ a look into,” Roy agreed. “Hoss, I’d like for you to stay out front here with Taylor and Jacobs. I’ll go around back with Hank.”

The opening at the rear of the cave was nothing more than a wide slit, just big enough for a man to slide through sideways.

“How far inward can we go ‘fore anyone might see us?” Roy asked.

“About a hundred feet,” Hank responded. “But there are enough thick formations that it’s pretty hard to be seen.”

Stealthily Hank led the way inside and through the darkened back corners of the cave. Up ahead the glow from the lit wall torches indicated they had nearly reached the main interior of the cave. Peering around the corner of a large stone slab they got their first glimpse of the cave’s inhabitants. It was a fairly relaxed group of outlaws that gathered. The odd thing they did note was that Adam and Farley were untied, just sitting quietly up against a sidewall; Farley had his arms wrapped around his knees and his head bowed forward. Adam, however, was unobtrusively watching every move his captors made, his spirit far from being squelched, making Hank wonder, not for the first time just how much gumption this Cartwright family was endowed with. If only he could get Adam’s attention. Using his hand he felt around on the ground until he found what he was searching for. A moment later a perfectly aimed throw placed the small pebble at the side of Adam’s boot. Without even raising his head, Adam began searching the path the pebble had taken until he silently located Hank’s presence. Even though Adam could not make out the darkened man’s identity, he instinctively knew it was an offer of help. In acknowledgement, Adam gave the tiniest of nods. Having seen enough, Roy indicated they should go back outside and placed his hand up in a crevice of a larger rock to pull himself upright where several smaller embedded stones broke loose and loudly rolled their way across the hardened floor. The sound instantly brought everyone’s attention to the rear of the cave.

“Hey, somebody back there!” Walt called out as he immediately stood pulling his gun from his holster.

Sean and the others also instantly alert gained their feet.

“You, in the back, show yourself.” Judge ordered sharply. “Come on out or we’ll blast you out.”

Hank and Roy had each readied their own pistols but hesitated in using them. Ricocheted bullets were a major concern with Adam and Farley in the midst of the commotion. But now that their presence had been made known – they were going to have to play their hand and when a few shots came too close for comfort, Roy and Hank had no choice but to return a few of their own in order to protect themselves.

The sound of the gunfire alerted the men stationed out front. Hoss wanted nothing more than to charge inside but kept himself in check. Roy’s deputies, however, decided that as appointed lawmen, it was their duty to take some type of action and headed for the entrance.

“Wait!” Hoss called out all too aware of the front line danger they were heading into, but in their zeal to assist, his warnings went unheeded.

As feared, the almost immediate sighting of Taylor and Jacobs set a new barrage of bullets flying that quickly had both men fleeing back outside but not before shiny flashes of silver caught Luke’s attention, raising his earlier fears about the end of a noose. “Those men are part of some posse and I ain’t planning on waiting around to find out which one. I’m getting out of here. Walt ya coming?”

“Neither of you are going anywhere.” Sean commanded. “We’re going to fight this out.”

“Like heck we are. Our horses are just outside. We can make it.” Luke peered back towards the front entrance.

“Don’t be a fool! Those men out front will cut you down and and even if you manage to make it to the horses, racing down those trails this time of night will just get you killed.”

“You’re the one with the bank money, that’s what they want. They won’t come after us till they get that back and by then we will have lost them in the dark.” Luke explained.

“I said you’re not going anywhere.”

A stray shot came whistling near Luke’s upper arm.

“Well I’m not staying here to get shot down by some gun happy posse.” Luke retorted.

“I think you’re right Luke.” Adam interjected wisely trying to widen the dissention they had started among themselves. “Posse just wants their money back, they don’t care about you and the Judge. Chances are you could make a break for it and they won’t even try and stop you. After all, what do you need the bank money for, you’ve got your own stash of gold somewhere else don’t you?”

“Oh don’t worry Cartwright,” Luke glowered at Adam’s bit of sarcasm. “We’re going to meet again, we’ve still got unfinished business.”

“Luke, their shots are getting awfully close.” Walt whispered as he rubbed his sweaty forehead with the back of his shirtsleeve. “If we’re going to do this, we should do it now.”

“I agree. We’re sitting ducks in here. Just lucky nobody’s been able to get off a straight shot in here.” Luke said as someone’s shot exploded a fragment of rock into dust near his elbow this time.

Firing off several rounds of bullets towards the rear of the cave to cover themselves, they ran fast finally gaining the cave entrance.

The retreating figures of their own men had Harkins realizing he and Sean were now alone in this fight. Angrily he pulled up the revolver he held and aimed it towards Farley. “Cartwright, this is your chance to speak up or I swear I will throw Farley to those men out front.” From inside the cave they all could hear the shouting and gunfire that was taking place beyond the cave entrance. “They’ll cut him down in no time thinking he’s just another one of the gang trying to escape.”

“You’ll never be able to retrieve the gold without us.”

“You maybe, but Farley’s dispensable.” Harkins pushed Farley closer to the cave entrance.

Harkins had just about made it to the opening when Adam raged forward directly ramming himself into the back of the Judge. Both the Judge and Farley went sprawling as well as Adam’s gun. In a mad scramble for the weapon, several fists flew and blows were exchanged. Farley managed to actually grab up the walnut gripped revolver and tried to aim it but the tangled bodies were too close together to risk a shot. Rolling over and over trying to gain control, they ended up back near the fire pit where Judge grabbed up a half charred heavy piece of log.

“Adam, watch out.” Farley cried in warning. Adam ducked and rolled just as the large club hit the ground an inch from his head. As the Judge lifted up his arms to take a second strike Farley saw an opening, lifted the gun and fired. Even though his aim was wobbly it was true and John Harkins found himself freezing with a look of disbelief before falling face down to the ground; instantly dead.

Sean looked at the mess, realizing that he now stood alone and was way outnumbered. Despite the heavy fire he heard beyond the cave’s access way, he knew his only chance lay in getting past the lawmen outside. He grabbed up the money sacks and headed towards the entry. Adam saw him flee and rose despite the intense pain that tore across his mid-section.

“Farley, it’s over, it’s all right.” Adam took a moment to reassure the man who had just realized what he had done. Placing his hand on top of Farley’s shaking one, Adam took the still smoking handgun from Farley’s frozen grip.

Farley looked up at Adam as if through a haze. “He was really going to kill you Adam.”

“You did what you had to.” Roy stated as he appeared beside them. “We saw the whole thing.”

Adam nodded at the family friend. “Roy, I’m not sure how you found us, but I’m real glad that you did.” Roy’s appearance was the first real affirmation he had that he was actually entering his home territory.

“Well aside from searching for Sean Cole ever since the bank robbery, I promised your father I’d go looking for his sons.”

The reference to his Pa made Adam flinch but he did not pursue the comment. “Well, if it’s the bank money you’re looking for, Sean just snatched it up and took off.”

As they both looked towards the front of the cave, they saw Taylor winding his way back inside. He was out of breath, apparently having struggled with something or someone. “Sean’s escaping up the hill and Hoss is going after him. Wanted to help him out but we got our hands full with those two galoots outside.”

“Hoss?” Adam asked dubiously not certain he had heard Taylor correctly. He turned to Roy with a confused look. Only one person carried that name and his brother was miles away in Dawson. There was no way he could be here but Adam did not wait to hear the impossible affirmed.

“Taylor, get the rest of those men secured in this cave right away.” Roy commanded his deputy. “I’m going after the money.”

Roy caught up with Adam just outside the mouth of the cave where he had paused momentarily to look across the rocky terrain, observing the trails of dust that were rising from the two figures heading for the steep cliffside.

“Looks like Hoss is going to catch up to him soon but I still need to get over there for back up. You stay here Adam, you’re not in any shape to make that climb.” Roy commanded as he caught sight of the eldest Cartwright son waver on his feet.

“Roy, I’m going.” Adam’s determination and the tone of his voice were undeniable. Roy had seen that look many times over the years in Adam Cartwright’s eyes and knew from experience he was going to have very little impact on him.

“Well I can’t stop you but you make sure you stay back out of the way.”

“I’ve already lost one brother because of that lunatic – I’m not about to lose another.” Adam countered.

“You just let me do my job Adam.” Roy turned and left knowing full well he had no more ability to stop the eldest Cartwright son than he did the wind. He just hoped he and Hoss would be able to reach Sean first. An injured, worried Adam was bad enough but an angered one was a threat no man should tangle with.

Sean had had a head start and was moving fast up the side of the cliff. Hoss crossed the lower rocks that led to the area he and Hank had descended earlier and caught a glimpse of Sean’s movements as he began scaling the rise heading towards the trail. Hoss pulled his sidearm and fired a few warning shots but they only bounced off the rocks. Sean was scrambling quickly up the hill but Hoss was keeping pace, his heart in his throat. If Sean succeeded in making the climb without being stopped, he would find not only horses for himself but he would also find Joe!

Thursday– 8:00 pm – A Promise Kept

As Sean reached the top and climbed over the last rock, he found himself nearly choking on the shock of seeing Joe again. “You sure are one dang gritty cowpoke, I’ll give ya that, but I think that lucky charm of yours has finally run out.” Wrapping an iron grip around Joe’s left arm, Sean hauled him to his feet in a move so hard that it pulled Joe’s forearm clear of the sling Hoss had fashioned. The cruelly wrenched wound sent razor sharp streaks of pain blasting throughout his slim frame. Sean ignored Joe’s outcry as he maneuvered him into position to shield his own body and still leave his gun arm free while backing up towards the horses. Awkwardly off balance Joe tried to get his feet under him to take the pressure off his upper body but his knees bowed unable to hold his weight.

Hoss had not been fast enough. He saw Sean jerk Joe up and his heart sank while he watched helplessly as the new hostage situation unfolded. His face paled at the sight of his injured brother being so roughly manhandled and winced at the groans Joe was trying so hard to contain. Hoss immediately lowered his gun to ward off the impression of any threats that would result in an unsavory action. “Let him go Sean. It’s over.” Hoss tried to keep his voice neutral even though every fiber in his body was seething; wanting nothing more than to have this man all to himself for just two minutes.

Sean shook his head with a sadistic grin. “It ain’t over. Not by a long shot.”

“Ya can’t go nowhere with him. He’ll just hold you back like he did before.”

“I’m still working out the details.”

“If it’s a hostage you want, I’ll trade places with him, just let the boy go.” Hoss was going to try and keep the outlaw focused on him and to give Roy an opportunity to take some type of action.

“Oh that’s funny big one and just how far do you think I’d get with you in my saddle.”

“No!” Joe’s minute plea for his brother made him push back against his foe straining for release. But the dull roar in Joe’s ears and the blood draining from his head made it impossible for Joe to clearly hear his brother’s response, only that his brother had spoken. Joe knew he was very close to passing out and his body sagged uselessly. These symptoms had become familiar warning signs. Sean had no other choice but to try and readjust his grip on Joe or let him drop altogether. As Sean arched forward to joggle his hold on Joe, the weight of the heavy moneybags thrown over his right shoulder threw him off balance and he carelessly dropped his gun arm down to his side away from Joe.

In that very instant a sharp hard object pressed deep into Sean’s lower back that made him instantly freeze; but it wasn’t the rigid steel of the forty-four caliber revolver that made Sean’s blood run cold, it was the icy chill of the deep voice that accompanied the weapon.

“Move one inch and I will splinter your backbone! Drop the gun.”

Several notions began to run through Sean’s frantic brain but all of them ended in the same scenario. He tried to stall for time but when Hank and one of Roy’s deputies appeared over the ridge, he conceded the odds were stacked gravely against him. There’d be another time. He released his pistol and it thumped to the ground.

While keeping the end of the rounded barrel pressed firmly in place as a reminder, Adam reached his arm around Sean and ensnared Joe by the waist pulling him from the arm of his enemy and into the warmth and safety of a comforting brother.

The moment Joe was free of danger; a blur of motion had Roy calling out in warning.

“Hoss, NO!” But the heed fell upon deaf ears.

Two large meaty fists had grabbed Sean up by the front of his shirt and he found himself not only dangling off the ground by several inches but also staring into two of the most darkened, enraged, eyes he had ever seen.

Anger steamed from the very center of Hoss’ core. It was his chance to finally destroy this worthless piece of flesh that had traumatized and hurt his entire family. Sean instinctively knew if this bull of a man was allowed to be let loose, he would never make it off the mountain alive.

Transfixed, Adam watched his incensed brother building up for what he knew was going to be the first blow. But even as his own anger wanted nothing more than to hear that satisfying bone-crunching strike of his brother’s fist against their enemy; Adam faltered; a reminder that his own body was not sound enough to support his waning burden and Adam sunk down to his knees with Joe in his arms.

Hoss, out of the corner of his eye saw Adam fold in weakness. Glancing between the two scenes, he suddenly knew Sean wasn’t important enough. His energies were desperately needed elsewhere. Hoss threw Sean away from him with a thunderous force that sent the outlaw sprawling to the ground.

Sean was rushed and pulled away, handcuffed by Sheriff Coffee and taken back to the cave accompanied by Roy’s deputy.

The fading illumination of the evening sky was just enough to highlight their brother’s youthful features. “I knew you’d come back for me Adam.” Joe’s belief in his older brother’s ability to protect him was unwavering.

“I promised you we would get through this together.” Adam stated knowing he would have searched as long as it took to find Joe. He knew as eldest, the weight of responsibility to protect his younger brothers would always be a part of him.

“I want to go home.” Joe whispered as Hoss knelt down beside them running his hand gently across the top of Joe’s head. They both could see the light beginning to fade from Joe’s eyes.

Adam looked at Hoss. Home without Pa was not ever going to be home again. Home had been a subject Adam had been pushing to the back of his mind afraid that dwelling on his father’s death would render him useless, so he deliberately had pushed it down deep into the recesses of his thoughts to be dealt with when everyone else was safe. He owed his father at least that much.

Having just witnessed that same look in Joe a few short hours ago Hoss hastened to reassure him. “Adam, it’s okay, Pa’s gonna be alright, it was just a graze. He’s in Dawson right now.”

Like Joe, it took a while for Adam’s thinking to come around, his memory so stuffed with the horror of that moment. “He’s alive?”

“Yeah, I was with Pa for almost a whole day before we left to start tracking, but he’s crazy with worry about you both. I told Joe about Pa, he understands. So yeah Joe, you, Adam and me, we’re goin’ home, but Pa will want you to stay strong ‘til he can come. Can ya promise us you’ll do that for him?”

The idea seemed to bring a sense of peace to Joe, “Yes . . . just need to sleep . . . for a while.” Beginning to feel safe and assured he allowed himself to pass from his spinning world into a soft dark place where weariness and pain had no hold on him.

“Adam, there is something you should know.” Hoss filled Adam in. “The doctor in Dawson said Pa couldn’t ride fer several days, so he ain’t gonna get back to Virginia City for a while.”

“Maybe its enough Joe knows Pa’s alive and he’s coming. It’s been hard on him believing he’d never see Pa again.”

“I think it’s been just as hard on you Adam.” Hoss threw a glance over Adam’s bruised and exhausted face knowing the last of Adam’s strength had been extracted in order to save Joe. After I get ya both delivered to Dr. Martin tomorrow, I’ll send a telegram over to Dawson. In the meantime we’ve got to get you two back to the cave.”

“Hoss, there’s a good trail further up the road that goes straight down to the front entrance.” Hank offered stepping forward. “That way we don’t have to climb back down over all these rocks. Let’s get Joe up again with you and I’ll take Adam.”

By the time they returned to the cave, Roy’s deputies had managed to put some semblance to the interior of the cave. The body of John Harkins had been covered and moved to the back of the cave. Walt and Luke had been clustered together on the other side of the fire pit in full restraints and Roy had placed Sean in next to them.

Bedrolls were fetched from the saddles of the gathered horses and unrolled to try and gain a bit of comfort on the hard ground.

Hank settled Joe on one while Hoss eased Adam down to sit against the cave wall. “How ya doin’ Adam?” Hoss asked, his forehead furrowed with concern as he watched his older brother slowly expel a chest full of pent-up air now that the assaulting pains in his abdomen were finally allowed to simmer. “We gotta git those ribs wrapped.”

“Later, after Joe . . .” Adam started to refuse and tried to rise but the pain of the jabbing ribs cut through him like a knife and he dropped back to the ground frustrated at the fruitlessness of his attempt.

“Adam, now quit moving around until I can check ya over.” Hoss half pinned Adam back using more force in both his voice and his hands than he would’ve liked to hold his brother still. Adam finally sat back in defeat against his brother’s commands.

“Joe’s taken care of for now.” Hoss reassured Adam. “It’s your turn, I just hope I have ‘nough rolled bandages to wrap those ribs with. Might be I gotta rip up an undershirt from someone.”

“As long as it isn’t yours Hoss. It might take Paul an extra week to peel away that many layers.”

“Now don’t make me go and wish I hadn’t rescued ya.” Hoss teasingly threatened.

“Well I’ll give you points for trying but that last part could use a bit more work.”

“Yeah, I ‘reckon Joe and I might have to keep you around a might longer at that.” Hoss conceded, as he had Adam lean forward so he could unbutton the ripped and filthy shirt from around his ribcage. “Thanks for what ya did out there Adam, but I think it cost you some.” Hoss had felt the damage and could tell the breakage was bad. Adam’s breathing was erratic and he seemed to have a lot of trouble getting his breath. Hoss located the last roll of bandages from his saddlebag and began encasing Adam’s chest but he had to pull hard in order to fasten it. Adam gasped, as the bones were pulled inward and fixed into place. “Sorry… I know that’s has to hurt.”

“Enough to see a few stars. Just make it as tight as you can Hoss, the binding will loosen up on the ride tomorrow.”

“Ain’t much cloth there to loosen and I want ya to be able to keep yer breathin’ as even as possible.”

“It’ll be fine… really.”

“How are they doing Hoss?” Roy asked as he made his way back over to the Cartwright brothers after having secured their temporary quarters for the night.

“Settled down as much as possible fer now but we need to get ‘em to Virginia City real soon though.”

“I’ll send Jacobs on ahead first thing in the morning. With luck, he might get back with a wagon to meet us at the base of the mountain.”

“What I want to know Roy is how you found us?” Adam tried to sit up straighter and paid the consequences.

“Well once we got it figured that the men who abducted you were in cahoots with the men who robbed the bank, it got a mite easier. And when Sean’s brother, Steve found out the circuit judge was on his way to Virginia City, he seemed to want ta start talking. Said there was no way he was going to take the full rap for the bank robbery; that his brother and Walt should be sharing the trouble, that Sean was the one who masterminded the whole thing and once Steve started jawin’, he didn’t stop. Even told us about this cave, seems they’ve used it before when crossing over the mountains. When I found out Taylor and Jacobs knew exactly where the cave was and how to get to it, we started up here straight away. Almost at the same time Hoss and Hank showed up.”

“Well speaking of getting here fast, Hoss you must not of stepped out of the saddle much from the time you left Dawson.” Farley noted.

“Not much. It’s only ‘cause Hank knows these trails so well we made it as quick as we did.”

“I may know the land, but Hoss found the trail that led to Joe.” Hank spoke up. “Adam, your brother is one of the finest trackers I ever met.”

“I know.” Adam confirmed still shuddering to think where Joe would be right now if Hoss had not found him.

“Roy, was all the stolen bank money in them sack bags?” Hoss asked.

“Appears to be. Won’t rightly know until the bank manager, Bert Parker gets a look at it. It could be they stashed some elsewhere but so far it seems to match the description of what was taken. In fact, I think there is actually more money there than Parker described.”

“I might be able to help you with that sheriff.” Farley interjected. “Seems Sean and his friends would just sometimes forget Adam, Joe and I were actually there listening to everything that they talked about among themselves. It would appear they pulled off another bank robbery over in Reno couple weeks ago.”

“Sounds like I’m going to have plenty of first-hand evidence from you all in helping me get some of these crimes wrapped up fairly quickly. I still don’t figure on how the prison camp and the bank robberies tie together.”

“I’ve got a ledger book locked up in Dawson that will probably help prove there was a connection.” Adam stated.

“Maybe ya all better start filling me in on exactly what happened in that prison camp.”

The four of them shared their individual stories with Roy including Joe’s escape from the camp and all that had happened afterwards. Adam, for the first time, heard how Hoss and Hank had found Joe and how Hoss had performed the procedure on him. By the time they had finished, Roy was overwhelmed at the utter disregard for human life that these outlaws had. But it did not surprise Roy in the slightest at how hard the Cartwright family had fought to overtake the odds. It was evident by listening to Hank and Farley just what Ben and his sons had sacrificed to give the men back their freedom. Roy looked at the worn, haggard faces of his friend’s sons. They had done everything they could for others – now he was going to make sure that these boys made it home.

“It’s time ya all tried to get some rest. I’ll wager not one of you has slept more than a couple hours in the last four days.” Roy finally called a halt to the informal inquest and stood to go and help his deputies while Farley and Hank returned to their own bedrolls leaving the Cartwright brothers alone.

“Hoss, thanks for doing what you did today for Joe. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

“I jest pretended I was you Adam. It was the only way I could do it.”

Adam nodded his head knowingly. “Hey you need to get some sleep, you’ve got some big responsibilities trying to get us off this mountain tomorrow.”

“I would but I need to check on Joe in a couple hours.”

“I’ll spell you. Body hurts too much right now to get much rest anyway.” Adam knew Hoss would sit up all night without hesitation if he let him.

“If Joe wakes, try to get some water into him.”

“I will, we’ll be fine.” Adam reassured him until Hoss settled down on the other side of Joe.

Adam found himself trying out a dozen different positions that night trying to get relief from a ribcage that was relentless in it’s throbbing. Any unintentional deep breaths would find him pulling in a sharp intake of air and gritting his teeth. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where the rolling pains were coming from only the general area. He had a feeling something was wrong other than the broken ribs but he had no intension of worrying Hoss any further.

Joe had not moved or squirmed at all since they had moved him from the clearing. Light drops of moisture seemed to seep from every pore of Joe’s skin and Adam believed the infection had anchored itself again.

The alcohol treatments Hoss had performed had managed to keep the fever under control for a while but now it looked as if they were not enough. Adam picked up some nearby remnants of fabric and soaked them in water. The water was not cold but Adam held the wet cloth to Joe’s forehead, to his surprise Joe awoke with a slight shiver.

“Where …?” Joe started.

“We’re inside a cave Joe, it’s still night. In a few hours we’ll head for Virginia City.”

“Oh.” In his foggy mind it really didn’t make much difference. “Cold…” Joe shivered again.

Adam looked at the flushed skin tones of his brother and was once again amazed at how the human body could run two entirely different temperatures at the same time. “Joe, you need to drink.”

“No… too tired,” was the muttered response.

Adam felt for his brother as they were both stretched out on the same hard, cold cave floor and both so spent by pain and exhaustion it was hard to think properly. But Adam’s mind was not muddled by a consuming fever and he had the ability to offer his brother the comfort of a softer pillow. Adam reached down ignoring the terrible pain that pulled across his ribs and lifted Joe’s head and shoulders up into his lap and adjusted the blanket around him. Joe’s body heat began immediately soaking through the fabric of his trousers.

“Better?”

Joe nodded and now obediently parted his lips when Adam presented the canister of water.

Hoss found them just that way several hours later both asleep, Adam finally having nodded off; his chin dropped to his chest with Joe’s head cradled in one arm and a damp cloth in the other.

Adam awoke as Hoss tried to take Joe from him. “It okay Hoss, you can leave him.”

“I’ve got to remove that gauze now or it’s goin’ dry into his wound and your legs must be asleep with that extra weight on them.”

“To tell you the truth I wish other parts of my body were as numb. Hoss, I think the gauze treatment has stopped working, his fever has come back pretty strong,”

“I kin see that but there’s nothing more we can do, we’re out of alcohol. All I can do now is keep the wound closed so the bleedin’ don’t start up again and hope Dr. Martin is in Virginia City when we get there.

Joe did not wake even as Hoss re-adjusted the dressing. “Now Adam try and go back to sleep. We only got about two hours till we leave.”

* * *

Chapter 9 (Friday)

Friday – AM Early – Steep Grade Ahead

With sufficient manpower now on hand to guard the remaining prisoners, Roy had Jacobs ride ahead to Virginia City to prepare for their arrival. As a result, when the small group reached the bottom of the mountain, the rest of the sheriff’s posse, eager to escort the stolen money back home, were on hand to meet them. Adam sat back against a rolled section of mattress padding that lined the bed of the wagon appreciating the fact that the nightmare of having his insides jostled about was almost over but it was overshadowed by the concern he and Hoss were having for their younger sibling. Joe had not fully awakened since Adam had tended him last night and his fever had spiked further upwards. Even with Roy leading the double-ridden horse, Hoss found it challenging, even with two hands, to maintain a firm grip on the restless and writhing, slick-coated flesh seated in front of him, the effort of which, soon had the front of his own shirt limp with musky wetness. Despite offers to trade off, Hoss would not release his sick brother to anyone else until he laid him flat in the wagon within the care of Adam’s arms.

“It’s not far now Joe.” Adam whispered.

Friday – 12:00 pm – The Decision

An hour and a half later the wagon finally pulled up outside the doctor’s office. Hoss instantly felt a wave of relief wash over him as the familiar white-haired, long-time family doctor quickly descended the short set of front steps to greet them.

“Hoss, Adam.” Doctor Martin gave a quick cursory glance at the various conditions of Ben Cartwright’s sons. “I got a message saying you were coming in and that Joe had a bullet wound that’s infected, so I got back here as soon as I could.” The doctor leaned over the side panel of the wagon to take Joe’s pulse and a fleeting look of concern crossed his face “You two,” he pointed to Hank and Farley, “Take Joe inside quickly.”

“Can you walk Adam?” the doctor inquired seeing the wide linen that strapped Adam’s chest.

“Yes, just need a bit of support. It’s Joe who needs you most.”

“Alright, Hoss help Adam inside and put him in the spare room. Then wait for me there, I’m going to have some questions later.”

Hoss paced back and forth inside the small space that was equipped with only a single size bed and a chair. Sunlight filtered softly into the room from the side window but to the worried brothers, it brought no cheer.

* * * * *

It was almost forty minutes later before the doctor finally joined them; taking a seat on the bed beside Adam.

“How long has Joe been unconscious?” Dr. Martin asked.

“Off and on since he was shot but he always came out of it.” Adam reaffirmed. “The last time he was awake was late last night.” Together they proceeded to give the doctor a shortened version of the entire story including the treatment Hoss had done to try and halt the spreading infection.

It never failed to amaze the Cartwrights’ long time physician at just how much resilience Joe Cartwright managed to produce. “Adam, you did the right thing in removing the bullet, it’s just unfortunate that you weren’t able to get medical help sooner. And Hoss, if it wasn’t for what you did out on the trail, the contamination would most likely have spread beyond my control by now.”

Hoss looked up hopefully. “Doc, does that mean ya can help him?”

Paul took a deep breath. “Joe’s condition is serious but you both already know that. Right now Joe’s blood pressure is very low and his entire system is weakened by the high fever and fatigue so there isn’t much left for his body to fight with. There is a chance he can improve if I remove some of that infection through surgery, but if I operate now in his current state, the risk is life-threatening. Do you have any idea when Ben is going to be back here?”

“No.” Hoss answered suddenly more than a bit alarmed at the way the doctor was phrasing his words. “I sent a telegram over ta Dawson but we ain’t heard back yet.”

“There really isn’t a choice here is there?” Adam said resolutely. “If you don’t do the surgery, you are saying the infection is going to take him anyway.”

The doctor took in each of the haggard long faces. He hated times like these, when he was unable to give any kind of desperately wanted reassurance other than the bare honest truth. “What I’m saying Adam is if I operate, there is a strong chance he won’t survive the invasion or the method I use to put him to sleep. If I don’t operate, Joe could come around again and at least you’d be able to talk to him to offer him some peace.”

“You want him to wake up just so we can say GOOD-BYE is that it?” Hoss stood up angrily from the bedside, his voice booming. “I WON’T do it! We’ve already saved him so many times just to get him to you and now yer’ saying ya can’t help him!”

Dr. Martin didn’t like this anymore than Hoss and Adam did. Paul just happened to care very much what happened to the youngest Cartwright. Joe had become a very important part of Paul’s life ever since he delivered the tiny child into the world on the first day of his practice twenty-two years ago here in Virginia City. “I know this is a heavy burden to place on either of you but the decision will need to be made soon. Each minute we wait, that slim chance gets smaller. I just want to stress that neither of you did anything to make this happen.” The doctor re-emphasized as he watched the older Cartwright sons finally come to grips with the reality of the situation.

“Cain’t you do the surgery without puttin’ him out? I mean, if’n that’s the problem . . . .” Hoss trailed off blanching at his own question knowing that what he was asking was to once again submit his brother to yet another round of torturous agony.

But Dr. Martin understood the reasoning behind the seemingly irregular question and did not dismiss it lightly. “I know you boys had to do that in order to remove the bullet but Joe’s blood pressure was able to withstand it at that time. Now it’s so low, his heart may not be able to stand additional invasion.”

“Paul,” Adam had learned to respect the learned physician’s opinion years ago. “What would you do?”

“As hard as the outcome might be to live with, I’d take the surgery and know I had done everything I could for Joe.”

Adam watched Hoss walk over to the softly draped window that looked out over the back garden of the Martin house. He did not see the softly swaying leaves of the lemon tree or the red geraniums in full bloom, he only saw the horror of the present moment.

“Can Hoss and I have a minute Paul?”

“Of course, I’m going to get Joe ready just in case.” The doctor cupped Adam on the shoulder and left the room.

“Hoss . . .” Adam received no answer from the slumped shoulders but he continued anyway knowing his brother would hear him. “you said it yourself up at the cabin…Joe’s a fighter, but he can’t fight unless we give him that opportunity. I don’t know if it’s a Cartwright blessing or a curse but all of us seem to have it ingrained in us to never give up until we’ve exhausted all our options. We both know Joe has inherited more than his share of that fiery blessing. I really believe it is the only choice any of us would make. And Hoss…” Adam added softly, “We have to remember there really is a chance he can beat this.”

Hoss finally turned away from the window, his bulk outlined by the early afternoon sun. He was about to speak when a soft rap sounded on the door, then gently opened. It was Kate, the lady who assisted Paul when he needed extra help. “I’m sorry to interrupt but this telegram was just dropped off for you both.” After Kate had left the room, closing the door again behind her, Adam unfolded the note and quickly scanned the typeset verbiage.

“It’s from the sheriff in Dawson. Mainly it says Pa left there on Wednesday night shortly after midnight with Charlie and they are riding towards Virginia City. Pa seemed to be in a hurry, he didn’t want to wait for the stage, which would not be there until tomorrow. The sheriff apologizes but says there is no way to get our message to him.”

“I shoulda known Pa would jump ship. Why do you figure he’s in such an all fire hurry to come home? He don’t even know we’re here yet.”

“I’ve never figured out how he does it but somehow he always knows. He’ll be moving fast but even so it’s a thirty-hour ride on the main road without any stops. If he doesn’t have any set-backs, he might be here tonight but not until very late.”

“It’s ain’t soon enough is it Adam?” Hoss words were more of a statement than a question.

“No.” Adam confirmed.

“Do you think Paul will let us see Joe ‘fore he operates?”

“I’m quite certain he’ll insist on it. We’ll go to him now.”

Dr. Martin looked up upon seeing the two older sons enter the examination room. He did not need to ask, he could tell their decision by their faces, and he and Kate moved away allowing them access to the narrow table. Joe had been cleaned up, the dirtied shirt and ragged bloodied bandages were gone and he now lay covered by a crisp clean sheet, the padded pressure dressing peeking out just above the seam binding. Cradling his head was a small firm pillow; his dark brown curls a stark contrast to the pale skin and equally white linen. There was an unearthly stillness to Joe that if it were not for the fine sheen of moisture that coated his flesh, they might have believed he had already left them.

“Ten minutes . . . then we need to get started.” The physician said as he exited the room behind his assistant.

But the lump in Hoss’ throat and the tears that swelled unbidden in his eyes threatened to overpower him. Ten minutes wasn’t enough. He reached under the sheet for Joe’s hand and squeezed. Bringing him back into focus was the sound of his older brother’s voice.

“Joe, it’s Adam.” The softly spoken announcement was made as he laid an open palm gently against the right side of the young pallid face while leaning his left hip up against the side of the examining table to balance himself. It was obvious Joe’s condition had plummeted even more since they had last been with him. Dr. Martin was right, there was nothing left for him to wage a battle with. The odds had spiraled out of his control, despite the fact he had fought so courageously. But while the sight and touch of his fading brother had Adam’s heart constricting and his mind told him Joe deserved only to be embraced now, his own mix of Yankee born Cartwright blood raged against it. Adam knew he would argue with his brother even in this.

“You made a promise to us Joe. You said you’d be strong until Pa got here and I’m expecting you to keep that promise. You can call me bossy all you want later but right now I have a job I need you to do. There’s one more hill for you to climb Joe. I know you’re exhausted and hurting and you want to give up and rest but we’re not letting you quit, not until you get to the top of the hill. You hear me Joe? Pa, Hoss and I . . . we’ll all be waiting there for you, so Joe I’m ordering you not to wander off . . . .” Knowing his voice was about to break from the onslaught of emotion that was building, he slid his hand down to Joe’s shoulder feeling that if he broke contact he would allow his brother to go free. A whispered plea followed, “Hang on Joe. I love you kid.” And then the hand released him.

As Hoss listened to Adam’s unusual words, he knew immediately what Adam was doing. He had an insight with both his brothers that few ever mastered. Hopefully the spark Adam was igniting would be enough. Hoss chose to add his own embers; to bank the fire before it was extinguished.

“Punkin’, I know it does sound like ole’ Adam is bossin’ ya ‘round again but he’s right this time. Ya gotta try hard Joe to come back to us. But Joe, you’ll like it up here at the top of hill, there’s a nice cool creek where you won’t be hot no more and, maybe, together we could sorta help Adam axi-dentally fall into it.” Hoss took just a second to steal an upward glance and was rewarded with a small twitch of his older brother’s lip line. Hoss swallowed and continued. “Then after Adam gits out of that creek all soakin’ wet like, you and I, we can go fishin’, that is, if big brother ain’t scared away all the good ones . . . I love ya Joe.” As he straightened up, he used the back of his sleeve to wipe the moisture that had begun to cloud his vision.

Adam closed his eyes while grasping the edge of the metal table to keep himself upright. His breathing had become rapid and he knew he was having trouble getting enough air into his lungs.

“Hoss, we need to go so Paul can get started. Come and lend me a shoulder.”

* * * * *

A little under two hours later, the door to the spare room opened and Dr. Martin joined them. He went straight to the side of the bed and sat down. Adam studied the learned physician’s face for some kind of clue but it was schooled in non-emotion. Hoss was not so willing to wait for the answer and came over from the chair he’d been sitting in.

“Doc?”

“The surgery went pretty much the way I expected. I believe that I have cleaned out most all of the infected area and I did not see any evidence of it spreading into other regions. I also sewed up a torn muscle that must have been giving him a lot of trouble.”

“You said most of the infected area, what about the areas ya didn’t get?”

“If Joe’s immune system was stronger he would have no problems fighting that small amount of infection off. Once he comes around I can start using several medicines to try and help, but I won’t be able to start those until he wakes up and his breathing improves.”

“What is the average time it takes for someone to come back around?” Adam asked.

“Depends upon how much they’ve inhaled, but most people start to stir in as little as half an hour but in this case, well I just can’t say. His respiratory levels are dangerously low. The bottom line is he’s got to come awake before I can begin any type of treatment.”

“Can we see him?” Hoss asked anxiously.

“Kate’s in the room now but you can go and sit with him Hoss while I take a look at Adam.”

* * * * *

Adam rigidly submitted as the doctor palpated the distressed mid-region of his chest, the taunt, muscled skin marred by ugly discoloration and struggled to take the requested breaths as Paul utilized the steel stethoscope in an array of various patterns along his upper body.

“Now cough, as hard as you can.” Dr. Martin prompted.

Adam’s first attempt was barely even discernable. A second try also proved weak.

“I know it hurts, but again, harder.” Dr. Martin pressed on the instrument while still listening for sounds only he could interpret.

Aggravated by his lack of ability to carry out such a simple request, Adam redoubled his efforts and finally managed to issue a small audible cough. The reward for his labor was a string of painful spasms that rippled unmercifully through his chest. He sank back against the pillow defeated; his arm wrapped tightly to his stomach as he tried to catch his breath.

Paul pulled the tubing from his ears. “Have you coughed any blood since this happened?”

Adam gave a slight nod. “A little, shortly after the fight. Once we started riding I had a couple bouts of nausea and then choked up a small mouthful of blood, which I spat out. I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you much about it as my eyes were closed pretty tight against the pain at the time.”

“Yes I can well imagine it was not particularly comfortable to be on horseback with these ribs.” Paul sympathized. “How about black-outs, have you had any?”

“You’re not missing a trick are you Paul?” Adam answered noting how quickly the problem was being assessed.

“It’s not that hard to figure out – those broken ribs on your left side are pushing inward, impeding your breathing. I’m amazed at how you’ve managed to stay upright so long.”

“Probably because the spells haven’t lasted more than a minute or two. I guess I was fortunate to be tied to the saddle a good deal, but the only episode that actually unnerved me was the one I had coming back down the mountain this morning.”

“I’d say you were lucky you didn’t fall off and break your neck. I take it you did not mention it to your brother.”

Adam shook his head. “He had his hands full.”

“Well as far as I can tell, you have one rib on your right side that is badly battered, possibly a hairline splinter but that alone is not the problem. It’s the two ribs on the left that are broken. I suspect they may have been cracked when you were hit with the rifle and it wouldn’t have been that hard for them to be fractured later during the fight. The complication is coming from the fact that the lung underneath is not fully inflating, there is a strong possibility there is a contusion on the lung itself. We’re going to have to watch you for a while, make sure you do not expel any more blood or have that lung collapse.”

Adam sighed. “I figured something like that because just regular breathing hurts like the devil. But Paul, I don’t want to worry Hoss with this, at least not yet, not while Joe is . . .”

“Well, for now, I’ll let you decide how much information you want to divulge but if the situation worsens he will have to be told. It’s not an injury you can easily conceal Adam and since I want you to routinely take as many deep breaths as possible, I’m not going to chest wrap those ribs very tight and, as you are already aware, with the chest unrestricted, the additional freedom of movement intensifies the discomfort.”

“Oh is that what we’re calling it?” Adam said cheekily as he bit his lower lip and shifted in response to a razor edged sharpness that flashed deep inside him.

“I would normally give you something for the pain but the medicine contains an ingredient that will make you drowsy and I need you awake right now so that we can force those lungs to cough as often as possible. I’m sorry Adam, I know you were hoping for some relief soon but we’ve got to fight this or you could easily wind up with pneumonia. I’ll see you get some more pillows to sit up against, as you won’t be able to lie down flat for a while. If there is no further issue in the next five or six hours, I’ll let you sleep for a while. In the meantime, you can either stay in this bed or sit over in Joe’s room for short periods of time. Being under this kind of stress right now can trigger another black out spell at any time.”

Saturday Early 2:30 am – Anybody Seen A Sheriff?

It was almost two-thirty in the morning when three very weary riders pulled their horses up outside Sheriff Coffee’s office. The town was dark and quiet with the exception of a few scattered lamps that still burned from a window or two. Ben still did not fully understand what had driven him to get back to Virginia City only that he could not rest until he had. It was foolish to think anyone had heard yet from Hoss or Hank; it was too soon. They would need time to trail Joe and Adam’s abductors and the bank thieves through the endless hills. The citizens of Dawson were good people and no doubt would be very concerned for him right now. They had done a lot for him and for the men of the camp but home was where Ben needed to be, when any news did come.

Roughly Ben banged on the old wooden door of the jailhouse. Receiving no answer, he impatiently pounded his fist even harder. Now that he had made it here he wanted as many answers as possible, no matter what the time of night. A few minutes later a loud voice called out from behind the closed door telling them to hang on.

“BEN!” The look of surprise on the deputy was clear as the half dressed man adjusted a suspender. “I thought you were still in Dawson.”

“Clem, I’m looking for Roy. Is he around?” Ben did not waste any time with civilities.

“Well yah – but he’s over at his house, probably asleep. I told him I’d take the night shift as he’s been going full swing since he got back this afternoon.”

“Back from where?”

The deputy rubbed the back of his neck trying to figure the easiest way to break all the relevant news to Ben, then decided maybe the sheriff might be a better choice. “Ben, I’ll just go over and get Roy. I think the news might be better coming from him.”

Ben’s weary eyes shot open at the word news and his heart dropped in his chest. What kind of news could there be that Clem didn’t want to tell him? Ben already knew about the robbery to the bank so the only other thing was his sons.

“Never mind Clem.” Ben had already turned away. “I’ll go over to Roy’s myself.” Ben turned to cross the street. Charlie and Nick, sensing some sort of trouble, hurried to catch up to him. They had been by his side for too long now, through too much and they were not about to leave him. They trailed Ben’s fast paced footsteps down the vacant sidewalk for about a block before stopping at a small cottage style home. Ben, without hesitation, walked right up to the front door and repeated the same fist pounding technique used earlier at the jailhouse.

* * * * *

“I jest don’t know Ben.” The aged sheriff shook his head in answer to Ben’s probing questions as he sat on the edge of a old, tuff-backed slipper chair wishing he could give a more agreeable account of what had happened since finding Ben’s sons yesterday. “You now know as much as I do.”

“Roy that was hours ago!” Ben stood – his anxiety over his sons unable to let him be still a moment longer.

“I’m certain I would have received word from the Doc if there were any further news.” Roy tried to calm his long-time friend even though he had been anxious for word all day himself. He was now berating himself for not stopping by the surgery earlier but between the rowdy celebrations in town over the returned money and the additional guards needed at the jail it had been almost midnight before he had stepped inside his own home. Exhausted by the events of the past twenty-four hours he had fallen asleep right there on the living room sofa, until the fierce rapping at the door brought him around.

“Well, I’m going over there.” Ben announced. “Roy, do me a favor, take Charlie and Nick to the hotel and check them in, just tell the clerk to put any charges on my account.”

“Sure Ben.” Roy was wise enough to know that the rancher needed a few minutes to himself to fully comprehend all that Roy had just told him and to prepare himself for what might lay in store.

* * * * *

Adam awoke into semi-darkness. Someone had lowered the light and he had to reach gingerly for the hurricane lamp. Raising the wick increased the intensity of the flame and an instant glow soaked into the walls, brightening the area. Faint voices drifted towards him from the other room and he wondered about the time. He knew it was well into the early morning hours as Hoss had last walked him back to his room around one o’clock. Dr. Martin had been insistent then on him retiring to his own room under the pretext they would work on some exercises for his breathing but he knew Paul was more concerned with how Joe’s unchanged condition was really affecting his state of mind, and he was absolutely correct. There was only one reason why the doctor would not have come to see him and suddenly the hairs at the base of his neck begin to bristle. Flooding with anxiety now, he twisted too quickly to get from the bed and the wrenching movements made him involuntarily gasp for more breath, which only intensified the acute pain. Grabbing the pillow he held it against his stomach to help stabilize his abdomen and then carefully he rose up from the bed.

Adam used his hands to support himself along the walls of the narrow passageway to keep his footing; which weaved against his will as he walked to the next room. The door was ajar and he leaned up against the doorframe to steady himself. It should have brought him great joy and relief and yet the sight of his own father pained him.

Inside the room Ben sat beside the bed holding Joe’s hand and stroking his limp arm as Dr. Martin provided a current assessment. Nearby Hoss sat disparagingly slouched in a chair on the other side. Pa looked old, really old, the hunched shoulders and unshaven face adding to the illusion. Adam could see Ben softly but fervently praying for his young son to wake up, if just for a while; his father’s heart-breaking words flooding him with guilt; he was the one who had instigated the final decision taking away the strongest chance Joe had for returning to consciousness. Joe would never see Pa again and it was his doing. Adam tried to catch his breath, his air supply was beginning to diminish, his heart was racing and the room began to spin and shatter.

With a father’s sense of awareness, Ben looked up just in time to see Adam’s eyes roll back into his head as he crumpled and fell hard to the ground inside the doorway.

“Adam!” Ben rushed to kneel beside this other son he had almost forgotten about so lost in his present worries.

A quick check of Adam’s vital signs by the doctor revealed a weak, rapid pulse. “Hoss, get me a blanket,” ordered Paul with a touch of urgency.

“What is it?” demanded Ben.

“Maybe it’s from his hurtin’ ribs.” Hoss guessed as he handed the doctor a folded quilt.

“It’s a contributing factor.” Paul confirmed. “Ben, there’s a possible problem that we have to talk about but Adam didn’t want me to reveal the situation until Joe wakes up.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t want to reveal it?” The timber of Ben’s voice rose filling the room with a reflection of just how worried he was. “I will not have one of my son’s sacrificing his health for the sake of the other.” Ben noticed for the first time how frightfully pale Adam was.

“Ben, Adam’s an adult. It was his decision to keep you from being concerned and to be truthful, I don’t think it’s anymore than his own father is doing.”

“That’s utter nonsense!”

“Is it Ben? I’ll bet the doctor in Dawson told you not to ride for at least a week.” Paul posed the question and knew from Ben’s upshot eyebrow that he was right. “And you did it anyway because you were worried about your sons.” Paul rolled Adam’s shoulder up till he could reach underneath him and positioned the stethoscope to better hear the sounds of the lung beneath.

“That’s different. They’re my sons.”

“And Adam has been like a second father to that youngest of yours over there for most of his life. He’s as concerned about him as you are.” Paul returned his attention to Adam who’s color seemed to be transitioning from pale into a pasty white at an alarming rate. The skin beneath his touch was growing colder.

Ben stopped to collect himself. “How bad is he Paul?”

“Adam has been having problems breathing. One of his lungs is in possible trouble, but up to now he has given me no reason to believe I needed to intervene.” Paul admitted the news although he knew he was breaking his promise to Adam but now the physician was medically concerned as Adam had yet to reach consciousness. “Hoss, can I ask you one more favor, can you take Adam into the exam room.”

“Sure doc, but Adam’s gonna be okay ain’t he?” Hoss asked apprehensively.

Doctor Martin started to answer something, and then changed his mind. “I won’t know that until I can find the cause.” Paul responded.

Ben cupped Adam’s head by the neck as Hoss lifted him, looking down into the drawn, ashen face. “Thank you Adam,” he whispered softly. “I’ll keep watch over Joe for you while you’re away and then my strong, steadfast son, I will watch over you too.”

* * * * *

The first sigh came almost an hour later. It was soft and low but Ben heard it as only a father can hear their child’s cry. Ben continued to call to his son to guide him towards the light. Joe knew the voice. It was the one that always kept him safe and gradually he drifted upwards pushing past the black waves that threatened to pull him under and then suddenly his vision focused on the image, the one he had visualized over and over again and his dry voice whispered a breathy word – “Pa.”

It was the one lyrical note that Ben needed to hear to make the coiled tension flee from his body. With a slight almost trembling smile he leaned forward. “I’m here Joe and so is Hoss. You’re going to be all right now.”

Joe nodded slightly acknowledging that he had heard.

Ben automatically reached up and laid his hand against the patient’s forehead. “Paul’s going to have to confirm it Hoss, but I think his fever is down quite a bit.”

“Pa, you’re real.” Joe searched his father’s face through hazy vision as if recalling every line. He was still having trouble shaking the after effects of a belief that had taken root so deep inside his mind that it had totally consumed him the past couple days. The small bandage above Ben’s ear bore evidence to the fact that Joe’s recollection of the event was not a dream but borne of reality.

Joe felt his father’s fingers wrap about his smaller hand as if the tightness of his grip would lend strength to his son’s fragile body. “I’m sorry you had to believe that Joe. But I’m here with you now and I’ll be with you until you’re well.”

“I done told him Pa you were okay, but I guess he just had to see fer hisself.” Hoss chuckled. “Adam’s gonna be mighty happy about ya comin’ round Joe.”

“Adam.” The name was both question and statement as Joe noticed his brother’s absence from the room.

“He’s with Paul right now Joe.” Ben decided it was too soon to tell Joe the whole truth just yet.

“He tried to help me Pa and they hurt him.” Joe’s eyes were closing, his eyelids drawn down by a force he could not stop. Unwilling to let the image of his father beside him go he kept pressing himself to stay awake, almost as if afraid he would disappear again.

“Adam is going to be all right, just like you will be.” Ben prayed fervently that both statements were going to prove true. Ben had hoped Paul would be available to assess Joe now that the barrier had been broken, but tried to content himself with the fact that he had actually made it home to witness this first small progress and have faith it would continue. Pushing aside his own seeds of worry, Ben released his son. “Go to sleep now Joe.”

* * * * *

Two hours later Ben was continuing the vigil except the bedside he now sat at was that of his eldest child. His eyes blurred with lack of sleep, but sleep was something he could not afford, not while two of his sons still fought in the arena of life and death, each one struggling against the foe of their own bodies; Joes’ laced with infection and Adam; a flailing lung.

Drawn like a magnet to the slight rise and fall of his eldest son’s chest, Ben could not tear his eyes away from the sight; afraid that if he looked away even for even a moment, the rhythmic action might suddenly cease.

Miraculously, Doctor Martin had not needed to intervene medically after Adam’s collapse. He had been able to fairly quickly assess that the lung was not collapsed but that the combined effect of the broken ribs, the sluggish lung and Adam’s extreme mental concern regarding his brother were what had sent him spiraling into the beginning stages of shock.

Not long after Doctor Martin began treating and stabilizing Adam, the sounds of the lung strengthened, returning some of his skin’s lost color. Although the doctor felt encouraged by the progress, he knew he would still have to work aggressively with Adam to prevent pneumonia but, at least, for now he felt the initial crisis had passed; he would let Adam sleep for a good while. Something he also encouraged Ben strongly to do, but the worried father had a promise to keep.

Saturday – 6:00 am – Coffee Smells Good

Just as the sun had risen the next morning, Roy sat down at his regular table at the International Hotel. After breakfast he planned to go over to Dr. Martin’s office and check in on Ben and his boys. He had news he wanted to share with them but was actually more interested in seeking a bit of good news from them. He had just picked up his first cup of coffee, when he heard a very familiar deep voice greeting him.

“Mind if I sit a spell with you Roy? Coffee smells real good.” The tall man sniffed the air as if just the scent was as good as the real thing.

“A’ course Hoss, please . . . sit down.” Roy expressed pleasant surprise and indicated the seat opposite. Roy waited until he had poured himself a cup of the steaming liquid into one of the fine china cups. Roy could not help but observe that Hoss’ larger frame was looking exceptionally lean, including a hollowness in his cheeks, bearing testament to the long weeks of trail drive and the extreme conditions they had been through the last couple weeks.

“Bet you’ll be glad to git back home to Hop-Sing’s home cooking.” Roy mentioned, knowing that it had to be one of the things Hoss missed the most about being away.

“Yes sir but I reckon I ain’t really been thinkin’ much on food lately. Ya know how Adam’s ribs were messed up? Well, it was affectin’ his breathing, he kept passing out.”

“But Adam’s going to be all right isn’t he?” Roy asked with concern.

“He’s comin’ on stronger now.”

“And Joe?” Roy added with a hint of uneasiness.

“Took him a long time to come ‘ound after Doc worked on him, but he finally did and now it’ll be a couple days ‘fore we know if’n the fever and infection are gonna clear up. Anyway Pa won’t budge from either of them. I thought if I came over to the hotel and got me a couple hours sleep, I could go back later and maybe Pa would be ready for a break.”

“Well Hoss, why don’t you stay and at least have a bite of breakfast with me. Somethin’ I’d like ta talk to ya about anyway. Then you can go and check-in upstairs.”

The two men gave their orders to the waitress and then Roy pulled out a telegram from his vest pocket.

“I got a message earlier this morning from the Circuit Judge. He’ll be in arriving in town on the noon stage tomorrow. Says he’s planning to start the trial for the bank robbery on Monday. But he also says he wants to have an informal meeting tomorrow afternoon to see how much of the trial, if any, would involve the Judge and if he had any connection to the bank robbery. He’s trying to figure out whether or not he needs to go over ta Dawson or if he can git it all settled here in Virginia City. He’ll be wantin’ to talk with yer family Hoss.”

“Well you can count on Farley, Hank and me and I’m purty sure Pa will want to be there but I wouldn’t figure much on Adam or Joe. But, there’s also two more men in town now ya might want at that meetin’; Nick and Charlie. They came in with Pa last night from Dawson and both of ‘em were a big part of the prison camp.

“Yeah, your Pa made sure we got introduced last night. It would be a good idea to ask ‘em to stay over if they can.” Roy agreed. “However, considering the hour they got in last night I doubt they’ll be risin’ very early. I’ll leave a note with the front desk clerk askin’ ‘em to come see me when they’re ready.”

“That ‘ll work fine. I’m gonna try and meet up with ‘em later, but Roy if there is anythin’ they are wantin’, would you make sure they get it. Other than that, I reckon the town folk are settled down a mite since the money was returned.”

“Parker finished checkin’ the records last night and all of the Virginia City bank money was accounted for plus some extra, so it’s purty certain that some of that cash does belong to the Reno bank. Reno wasn’t hit as hard as we were; it seems Sean was interrupted during the robbery and they only got away with a few thousand dollars. Once we formally announced the return of our town’s money, there were some pretty big celebrations around here all right and now the town’s been pretty quiet so far this morning so it’ll be a while before folks start stirring. I’m just happy the Judge is going to be ready to hear the case on Monday. Now that I’ve got all three of them thieves in my jail, some folks might start stirring up the kettle again and try to dish out a piece of their own justice.”

“Ya got enough deputies for now?”

“Jacobs and Clem are both fillin’ in fer me this morning. I ain’t really anticipatin’ any action until the saloons start going full swing tanight.”

“Well ya’ll know where to find me if ya need me Roy. Got one more favor tho’ to ask of you. Can you send a rider out to the Ponderosa to let Hop-Sing know we’re in town?”

“Already done. Your hand, Jonah, was over at the Golden Nugget last night. I sent word back with him. I expect Hop Sing will come to town this morning and head straight over ta the doctor’s office. I know that ‘ill be a help considerin’ both your brothers are laid up.”

Roy set a couple of coins on the table and together they walked through to the adjoining lobby of the hotel. Hoss picked up a room key and Roy left his messages then with a handshake the two friends parted.

* * * * *

The first thing Ben felt was the broad band of afternoon warmth that worked its way in through the window’s western exposure. The dancing beam of light swept across the back of his vest and stretched up onto the bedcovers. Upon waking it was a minute before he realized he had fallen asleep there in the bedside chair with his head lying on the side of the mattress. Drawing his arm back to assist, he straightened, the cramped and stiff muscles of his back protesting. He lifted heavy eyes up towards the head of the bed and was startled to find a pair of deep hazel ones looking back at him, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the company Pa, but I’m sure there’s got to be more comfortable sleeping accommodations around here.”

“Adam!” Ben responded, beginning to recall exactly why he was in this room. “When did you wake up son? I wanted to be here with you when you did.”

“Actually you were here Pa, not exactly upright, but you were here.” Adam watched with slight amusement as Ben squirmed a bit trying to find a position in the hard, wooden, cushionless chair. “Paul said to let you be, that he didn’t care how you slept as long as you slept.”

“Paul was here?” Ben asked in surprise.

“Oh yes, he was here alright, making me cough over and over again until I did it to his specifications. The fact that you managed to sleep through it all while that little torture session was going on was how I knew you were beyond tired.”

Ben, now fully awake, began to assess his son with fresh eyes. Although Adam was no longer soaked in an eerie pallor, he remained very pale, dark circles reflecting beneath his lower lashes. The continual pain that battered his mid-section kept his breath from being fully expanded and his speech was slightly labored. Even while he was settled back amidst half a dozen pillows, he body still appeared rigid and stiff.

“What did Paul say?” Ben asked hesitantly. “Did he explain to you what happened?”

“Yes. But he’s fairly certain it’s not going to happen again, unless I go out and get mixed up in a street fight or something. It’s just going to take time for the ribs to heal and the breathing will get easier the more deep breaths I can take.”

“Well between Paul and me, you’re going to be taking quite a few of those.”

“Great.” Adam said mockingly. “I suppose I’ll have to take him up on his bribe now. Seems if I behave, he’ll actually give me some of that medicine tonight that he likes to use so sparingly.

Sunday – 2:00 pm – Will The Real Judge Please Stand Up

“Well gentlemen, I think that concludes our meeting here today.” The Circuit Judge looked at the telling faces of the men who had just re-counted their horrific stories of time spent in the enslavement camp. “I want to thank you all for giving me a better understanding of just what happened during the time of your imprisonment. I know it’s been a long, emotional afternoon but I’m leaving here with a much clearer picture of the inhumane life you were made to endure. It takes an incredible strength of will and character to not only survive such captivity but to try and pick up the pieces of your lives from here on. I realize this small group is only a fraction of the many stories that will be told, but you are some of the lucky ones; you have survived.”

“So, after having heard the testimonies, it is my recommendation that the Territorial Governor, despite the death of John Harkins, aka The Judge, launch a full-scale investigation into this act of inhumanity and the many deaths associated from it. I will want to see and study the ledger book that the Cartwrights have secured up in Dawson as well as read the rest of the written statements that Sheriff Higgins has in his possession. It is also my finding that there is enough evidence to warrant a full trial of John Harkins’ surviving deputies. If evidence does bear out the proposed connection between both John Harkins and Sean Cole it is my order that after the trial for the Virginia City bank robbery, all four of your present prisoners Roy be placed under armed escort and taken to the town of Dawson where they will be held pending further investigation. If such further findings are justified which I believe they will be, the Governor will then join me in Dawson where we will be take further action.

“Earl Farley.”

“Yes sir,” Farley jumped at being singled out.

“It is also my judgment that you be cleared of all charges in the death and killing of John Harkins. Clearly it was a matter of self-defense on two counts and three eyewitnesses bore testimony to that effect. Roy, would you please take care of the paperwork for that?”

“Thank you sir,” Farley breathed a sigh of relief.

“But as for the rest of you, anyone who has not yet provided a statement for the period of time spent at the prison camp, you will need to have that written up and handed in to Roy Coffee’s office by Tuesday morning. Other than that, I see no further need for any of the men in this room to be present at the future trial/investigation of John Harkins. You’ve all been kept away from your real lives long enough.

Now to the subject of the Virginia City bank robbery trial. Court will begin tomorrow morning at eight o’clock sharp. Roy, you will please see to it that any of the eyewitnesses on your list are present. Following my review of the bank robbery itself, I will hear the extenuating testimony on this case from Ben Cartwright and Earl Farley. Testimony from Adam and Joe Cartwright is pending authorization from Dr. Paul Martin. The rest of you are free to go.

After the meeting had adjourned, Ben Cartwright stood up and stepped forward to shake the official’s hand. “Judge, thank you very much for your interest in this case.”

“Well, Mr. Cartwright it seems that telegram you sent to the Territorial Governor made quite an impact. I expect we will be seeing some rather quick results.”

“I hope so for the men’s sake. However, there is a suggestion I would like to make if you do not think it is interfering with the investigation.”

“I’d like to hear it, this is still an informal hearing.”

“It’s about the gold. The gold my sons and I found in the Judge’s cabin, the gold that the men themselves were forced to dig from the ground. I’d like to suggest that it be equally divided and given to the survivors, as a type of compensation. It might not be much, just a couple thousand for each man, but enough for most of them to get started again. Of course, my family and I want to be excluded from that count.”

“I find that to be an excellent suggestion Mr. Cartwright. I will definitely relay that to the Governor and we will let him make the final decision. In the meantime, I think that might be an idea that we keep between ourselves, only because I would not wish to disappoint anyone should some unforeseen obstacle bar that from happening. I will see you tomorrow then.”

“Yes, tomorrow. Good day Judge.”

* * * * *

“Pa, how’d it go?” Joe was lying in the small bed looking much more alert than he had in a long time. Paul had said that Joe had a fairly good rest and seemed to be gaining strength as the fever continued to recede but Ben needed a visual confirmation and slowly took his familiar seat at Joe’s bedside giving himself a moment to un-obtrusively check Joe’s improvements. Joe, quite used to being thoroughly reviewed under his father’s watchful eye, pretended not to notice. Satisfied, Ben gave Joe a capsulated version of the session.

“Good, in fact, very good. There is going to be a full investigation but it will happen back in Dawson. The Judge determined none of us would need to go back. And the thing I’m very happy about is that Farley has no charges against him in the death of John Harkins. But it will take him a while to learn to live with purpose again. After the trial I think he is planning on going back east to see his family, maybe they’ll be able to help.”

“Is Adam going to the trial?”

“Yes, the doctor seems to think it will be alright for a few hours, although I don’t really agree. Our lawyer, Bryton, believes it’s important that the Judge hears about what happened to you and Adam on the trail and Roy and I would like to see that Sean is held accountable. Besides the bank robbery, there’s the fact that Sean and Walt helped the Judge and his men escape, they took hostages, made physical attacks and left you alone Joe.”

“Bryton says it could be considered attempted murder.” Joe said hesitantly, not wanting to admit just how much he had overheard of an earlier conversation, when Ben believed he was asleep.

“Joe, there’s no reason for us to go into that.” Ben did not want to discuss it; the reminder of it was still too raw.

“Pa, I’d really like to go to the trial.”

“Now Joe, you know that isn’t possible.”

“Pa, it was me that Sean abandoned out on the trail. I know I wasn’t thinking very well then, but I did know I would more than likely die out there. Pa I can’t explain it. I just need to know that it’s over.”

“It is over Joe. You’re alive and you’re safe. You don’t need to sit in a courtroom to know that. The Judge said Adam’s testimony would be enough.”

“But Pa, I’m not sure if it’s enough for me.”

Ben put his joined hands together and pushed his thumbs up against his lips while exhaling a small amount of air. “Joe, we’ll talk about it when you’re stronger.”

“By then it will be too late, just let me go to court and then it will be done.”

“Joe, you can’t even step out of this bed right now without falling down. Now let’s not have any more of these foolish notions!” The anxiety in Ben’s voice rose strongly over the possibility of his son re-endangering his health.

“Ben, is there a problem in here?” Paul’s assistant opened the door a bit concerned.

“No Kate. I’m sorry I startled you. Is Paul around?”

“He went out on a couple of calls, said he’d be back in a few hours. Adam’s sleeping and Hoss went over to the hotel to meet up with your friends if you need him.” Kate walked over to the bed and adjusted the pillows behind Joe’s back for him.

“Do you want any more medicine Joe?”

“I’m fine.” Joe lied. “That stuff makes me so dopey, I can’t think straight.”

“I know but Doctor Martin says you’re to ask for it as soon as you need it. I can see though that you’re getting a bit warm again so I’m going to go get you some quinine.”

“That’s probably my fault Kate. We were having a bit of a disagreement and I probably got him over-excited and heated-up.”

“Isn’t that my job Pa?” A new voice spoke up entering the room, winking at Joe.

“Adam – I thought you were sleeping.” Ben mildly rebuked.

“Too much on my mind I guess and it is rather warm in here.” Adam fluffed his robe to emphasize his statement before easing himself down into the chair next to his father.

“Watch out Adam, or Kate will be taking your temperature next.” Joe warned his brother.

“Someone is feeling better aren’t they?”

“Yes, now if you would please explain that to Pa so he’ll let me go to court tomorrow.”

“Court! I can think of a lot of places you should be, but court isn’t one of them. Why do you want to go there when you don’t have to?” Adam shook his head, frowning at Joe’s request.

“Adam, it’s just what I need to do.” Joe said simply as he shared a look with his brother that transcended all the reasons he could have vocalized. Adam nodded, he did understand. Their experience had bonded them in a way no one else could understand.

“How about if Roy comes over tonight and interviews him for the Judge? Then at least it he will be able to have some say in the outcome.” Adam’s offered up a compromise.

Ben was still leery about upsetting Joe again this early in his recovery, but understood that in order for his son to fully heal, his emotional needs were going to need to be met as well as his physical ones. “I’ll have to talk to Paul about it first but if he agrees, I will discuss it with our lawyer when I see him shortly. Since Bryton has already spoken with several of us, he’s got a pretty good handle on the events that happened; he just wants to finalize the list of questions he’ll be asking Adam tomorrow. I’ll see if there is some additional information he’d like Roy to ask Joe about.”

“Thanks Pa.” Joe appreciated his father’s small concession.

Ben relented. “Alright, I’ll going, but Joe you tell your brother if you need anything. Adam, don’t let him stay awake long, he needs rest, and as a matter of fact, the same goes for you too.”

“We’ll be fine Pa.”

* * *

Chapter 10

Monday – 8:00 am – It’s One For The Law Books

The trial began at eight o’clock Monday morning. The courtroom was packed and it was already sixty-five degrees outside. Sean, Walt and Steve sat at the defense table with a court appointed lawyer while both the bank’s lawyer and Ben’s lawyer sat together at the prosecution table. Four rows behind them Ben, Adam, Hoss as well as Farley, Nick, Charlie and Hank had seats. The charges against Luke, including his attack on Ben, were all going to be presented at the trial in Dawson.

The morning’s agenda was filled with testimony from the day of the actual bank robbery. Mr. Parker and two of his bank clerks all quickly identified the defendants as well as several townspeople who had been just outside the bank that morning. By eleven o’clock most of the direct testimony concerning the bank robbery itself had been heard. The Judge declared a break and called for court to reassemble back at twelve.

As Ben and his party began heading up the aisle to the exit doors following the crowd, a loud shout came from the front section of the courtroom and when they looked back, they were stunned to realize Steve had somehow managed to grab one of the deputy’s guns. Raising it up into the air he pulled the trigger. Screams from several women and mayhem filled the room as citizens began ducking for cover behind chairs or ended up in the jam as they ran towards the door. Two more shots kept everyone from moving.

“Pa, we got to stop ‘em ‘fore they shoot someone.”

“Let Roy handle it Hoss.” Ben commanded pulling on his son’s vest from their position back behind the chair slats. With their side arms having been checked at the courthouse door, they were just sitting targets themselves and there was too much commotion in the lobby now to even get to them.

Making their way across the room, Walt tripped into the prosecutor’s table knocking it on its side. Documents and desk supplies went flying in all directions including a small green kerosene lamp. Startled, the two lawyers stood up from their chairs watching horrified as the flame from the lamp caught the edge of a paper document. Ben’s lawyer tried to move around the flipped tabletop to stomp it out but was pushed back by the barrel of a gun.

“You, sit down.” Steve motioned. “Nobody’s going through here, not until we’re gone.

“You fool, you’re going to start a fire.”

The lawyer’s statement was met with the most hideous smirk. “And that is supposed to mean something to me. Let it burn. Let the whole stinkin’ place burn.” And as if to further emphasize his intentions, he kicked another pile of papers on top of the burning ones and the smoke began to build and spiral upwards.

Several people decided that the additional threat of safety was worth outrunning a bullet and those who had been trapped in the room when the shooting started now stood once again ready to move towards the door including the people in Ben’s row.

At their command, Roy had no choice but to hand over his own gun and the keys to the men’s handcuffs or risk one of the lawyers being shot.

Now brandishing the acquired weapons in warning, the trio progressed up the aisle as people scurried out of the way. But when Sean caught sight of the Cartwrights, he turned to gloat.

“Sure wish Joe was here, Cartwright.” Sean gleamed evilly at Adam. “Good thing about an almost dead hostage is they don’t give ya no trouble.”

Sean never saw the thick block of fist that caught him in the jaw thrusting him to the floor, his falling body knocking several rows of chairs askew as the force took him downwards and then Adam went after him. With incensed fury as his momentum, Adam’s only needed a few well-placed blows before Sean was laid still.

As Sean’s accomplices stood stunned, the remaining Cartwrights took action. Hoss’ powerful strength made quick work of Steve while Ben knocked Walt cold on the first punch.

“That was a fool thing to do Adam.” Roy admonished his friend as he bent down to handcuff the awakening Sean Cole.

“Yeah – but it sure felt good.” Adam savored the recollection while rubbing his fist. He watched as Roy directed his deputies to escort the resisting, seized prisoners the rest of the way down the hallway and out through the front of the building requesting that the gawking citizens move along.

“Pa, that was some punch!” Hoss approved at the father’s still proven agility. “Couldn’t a done it better myself. Did ya see that Adam?”

“I saw.” Adam nodded as he lowered himself gingerly into one of the chairs.

“Adam, are you all right son?” Ben squatted down in front of him, concern replacing the moment of self-pride.

“I’m all right Pa, really. I just need to catch my breath.” But his overall posture belied his declaration; his arm wrapped tightly to his rib cage.

“It’s like those devils keep risin’ back out of the ground.” Hoss commented. “We gotta do something to make ‘em stay down.”

“Gentlemen that was some display of bravery.” The authoritative voice of the Judge caused an immediate parting of the men to enter the small circle that had formed. “Is everyone all right?”

“Yes.” Adam answered before his father’s worry could be voiced. “Judge will this keep the trial from continuing this afternoon?”

“I see no reason not to continue, however, I will require Roy to add on extra guards this afternoon. I’d like to get this case settled as quickly as possible and since the defendants have waived their right to a jury I believe that is an obtainable goal. Mr. Cartwright, do you have the statement from your son, Joseph?”

Ben shook his head. “I’m sorry Judge, we did attempt to have one drawn up for you, but by the time Roy made it over to Doctor Martin’s office last night, my son was asleep. I think Roy’s still in the lobby; maybe he can do it now. Adam, you’re coming back with me so Paul can make sure nothing’s out of place.” Ben tone of voice was such that his oldest son knew there would be no arguing. “Hoss make sure everyone else gets a bite to eat.” Ben settled his hat back on his head and taking Adam a bit forcefully by the arm, pulled him out of the chair. Stepping away from the group, they headed for the door.

Ben’s firearm was one of the few left in the cabinet being monitored by Sheriff Coffee. Pulling out a nearby chair for Adam to sit in, Ben took the offered holster and strapped it on while asking if Roy might have time to come over to Paul’s to do the inquiry for the Judge.

“Ben, I’d like to help you out, but I’m ‘fraid I jest ain’t got the time right now. We’ve got a disturbance up the street that I’ve got to send Jacobs over to check out and that only leaves me and Clem to watch the jail and round up those extra men that the Judge wants me to put on duty this afternoon and what with court being back in session in less than an hour, now it jest ain’t possible.”

“It’s alright Roy. I understand. I’m not exactly sure why the Judge feels he needs Joe’s statement for the case.” I’ll talk to our lawyer about it. Thanks anyway.” Ben waited until Adam gained his feet and then they headed outside.

* * * * *

Dr. Martin straightened after an examination of his reclining patient. He did not like the sounds he heard beneath the injured man’s ribcage. “Adam Cartwright, what did I tell you about getting in a fist fight?”

“Actually Paul, I believe the specific term you used . . . was street fight.” Adam corrected the doctor, the dry humor lost in the breath that once again labored against the new disturbance of the fractured bones.

“I would advise you not be quite so cocky with your doctor right now son, I have a good mind to withhold that pain medicine again. Those ribs are supposed to hurt for a reason.”

“What are you saying Paul?” Ben demanded an answer.

“The lung sounds sluggish again Ben. He’s going to need to stay quiet for a while, hopefully the rhythm will right itself again on its own like it did last time, but I cannot allow him to go back into the courtroom.”

“Paul, I have to go back.” Adam argued. “I’m the only one who can give the testimony for Joe and myself. Joe never did a statement and our lawyer says that even though Farley was there, his testimony might be debated as bias on account of Sarah.”

“I’m sorry Adam, but as your doctor I will not risk your life.”

“And I stand with Paul. Son this is out of your hands now. I will go see the Judge and see if we can get a postponement.” Ben affirmed. “Paul, you have my permission to tie him down if you need to.”

* * * * *

Hoss, on his way over to find out the latest update on Adam, intersected with Ben on the sidewalk and together they headed up the street to the Judge’s chambers.

Upon Ben’s request that the trial be postponed a frown crossed the Judge’s face. “Mr. Cartwright, if I do not catch the stage to Dawson tomorrow I will miss the meeting with the Territorial Governor. Are we absolutely certain that Joe cannot talk to the court, shouldn’t take more than an hour, otherwise I have no testimony from either of your sons.”

“Pa, Joe is doin’ a lot better. Doc said so last night.” Hoss added. “An hour ain’t so much and we don’t want ta hold up the Dawson investigation.”

Ben sighed at the inconceivable request; it was not the response he had hoped for. The amount of time was not what he was worried about; it was the additional extraction on his son’s fragile state of health. “I will go confer with Dr. Martin but that’s all I can promise at the moment. Judge I will get word to you.”

* * * * *

Ben couldn’t understand it. How could his son actually be excited about going over to the courtroom to testify and face those men? Yet here he was practically ready to bounce off the bed?

“When are we going Pa?”

“The Judge said he’d send word about ten minutes before you would need to take the stand. I wanted you to be the last one but the Judge thought it would be better if it went in chronological order.

The bedroom door opened and Kate entered pushing a rather large unwieldy wheelchair into the room. “Pa, what’s THAT?” Joe looked up at his father in total disgust.

“Joe, you didn’t think you were going to be able to walk all the way over to the courtroom did you?” Ben had expected the outburst even as he had planned the mode of transportation with Paul.

“There is no way! There’s no way I’m going in that.” Joe looked at the chair as if it were an alien from another planet.

“Would you rather I had a couple men carry you?” Ben offered as an alternative.

“Why can’t I just walk? I do remember how you know.”

“Joseph, watch your tone.” Ben reprimanded. “And if you want to go do this, this is the only way it’s going to happen. So you have a decision to make.”

“Pa, everyone will be watching. It’s like I’m some old cripple.”

“Joe, nearly everyone is in the courtroom. The streets are fairly empty. I’ll make you an offer. If you ride in the chair over to the courtroom, I’ll let you walk inside under your own power.”

“Does Dr. Martin have to be with us?”

“I want him in the courtroom, but maybe he can go and take his seat before we get there. Hoss said he’d save him one.”

“Are there really that many people?”

“I’ve heard that the courtroom is absolutely packed. You would think that after this morning’s episode people would be afraid to come back but it seemed to do just the opposite. It is standing room only in there.” Ben saw his son cringe at the thought of all those eyes on him. “Just focus on the lawyer’s questions Joe. Nothing else. If you need to look somewhere, look over at me.”

“All right.”

Even though Joe promised Ben he would only look at either their lawyer or at the Judge, he could still feel hundreds of eyes boring into his back as he made his way slowly up the aisle of the courtroom. Immediately he felt claustrophobic as if all the people had sucked the air right out of the room. It didn’t help that there was no air to begin with. With the sun high overhead it had heated the small windowless room to the point where it was absolutely stifling. Halfway down the aisle Ben left his side to take his saved seat beside Hoss and let Joe continue slowly on alone

“He’ll do fine Pa. He’ll use that pure stubbornness of his to git hisself through this.”

“I’ll just be glad when it’s all over and we can all get out of here.”

Ben watched as Joe was sworn in and answered some basic questions. Then prompted by their lawyer, Joe began a recounting of the days spent with Sean Cole starting with the evening that Sean freed the Judge from their camp. Up till now, Ben had only heard the overall story, he had been spared hearing most of the minute details, even the overall notes he had quickly read over from the lawyer did not reflect the actual degree of emotion but now it was coming to life and Ben flinched with each new revelation. It was hard hearing how his youngest felt as he watched his Pa get shot down right in front of him and then had to recount every stage of abuse that followed. Still he would not allow his son to see his own anguish, he focused only on being the strength his son needed. Beads of sweat had begun to form across Joe’s forehead and the family lawyer quickly offered Joe some water, which he seemed to absorb until the cup was dry. They had reached the part where Joe was being separated from the group after Adam’s brutal beating and the room became very quiet. Joe’s narrative complemented Farley’s previous one but with Joe’s emotion riding so firmly on the surface, people seemed to be drawn even deeper into their torment. Joe’s stomach was tightening as he recalled his wandering in the wilderness, those hours of total abandonment when he knew he was going to die alone. His heart was racing as he recalled it all, his breathing was getting quicker and he closed his eyes and bowed his head to just try and pull himself back into the present.

Ben leaned way forward in his seat deeply concerned. “Paul?” He whispered into the ear of the white haired man in front of him.

“Give him a minute Ben.” Dr. Martin cautioned.

The pain in his shoulder was really affecting his thinking now. Joe berated himself for telling Kate earlier he wasn’t having any pain. He did not want to be doped up during the testimony. Prickly sweat soaked the collar and the back of his new shirt. His heart would not stop racing.

The Cartwright lawyer asked Joe if he was all right to continue.

“Yes. Some more water please.”

“That’s his fifth glass since he’s been here.” Ben observed.

“He can do it Pa, I know he can. Come on Joe, just git it done.” Hoss responded.

Another fifteen minutes and the first part was over. There were some cross-examination questions from the defense lawyer and Joe Cartwright was dismissed from the stand.

Joe nodded and slowly stood to take the one step down but as he did the wood slats that made up the floor began wavering, moving about as if they were at sea. Joe lowered his leg to try and steady himself but the tender hip muscles betrayed him and the tremulous limb dissolved from beneath him; his body following and he crashed noisily to the floor.

“Joseph!” Ben was out of his seat in a flash and running towards the witness area, the physician and Hoss following behind.

Ben turned Joe over into his arms, relieved to note Joe was still conscious.

Joe’s strength was gone. He wanted to pretend this didn’t happen but he couldn’t seem to move. Dr. Martin was taking his pulse and temperature and then pressed lightly on Joe’s left shoulder, Joe involuntarily emitted a loud groan and flinched away from the touch.

“Joe, did you take any of the pain medicine this morning?” Dr. Martin asked.

Joe shook his head knowing it had been a big mistake but he wanted a clear head. He figured he could manage without it; after all he had gone several days on the trail without anything. A few hours shouldn’t make any difference.

“Hoss, can you lift him? I need to get him back to my office.”

Joe’s eyes widened in dismay and for the first time Joe found his voice. “Pa, you promised I could walk!”

“Now Joe, I think ya lost that particular privilege when you took that nose dive off the platform.” Hoss teased him while wrapping his arms under his brother’s slight frame. Joe closed his eyes and just prayed his brother would walk fast.

* * * * *

Opening the door to the spare room revealed a sight that sent immediate shivers through the silver haired man. “ADAM! Where in tarnation do you think you’re going?”

Adam did not look up from his seat on the bed but continued stealthily doing up the last of his shirt buttons, knowing he would never be able to accomplish the task of tucking his shirt tails back into the pants he still wore from his earlier visit to court. Already, his body was trembling internally with the effort of donning the garment.

“I’m going to go do what I should have done hours ago.” The low-keyed voice cloaked a wealth of hidden anger in its depth. “Joe should never have had to go through that again. It was my responsibility.” Adam finally raised his head letting his father know just what he thought of the incident at the courthouse.

“Adam, it’s over; done.” Ben shook his head unable to comprehend what would rile his son so deeply that he would endanger his health again. “Now stop this nonsense and get back in bed!”

“No! Before the Judge lays down any decision on this case, he will know EXACTLY what my brother had to endure just to survive.” The passion filled words rang loudly inside the room as his body began to quiver with controlled fury. “They won’t win – NOT this time.” Adam reached down for his boots that had been tucked up under the edge of the bed.

“Adam, they’re not going to win anything but the decision is out of your hands.” Ben could not make sense of Adam’s statement. “You’re not responsible.”

“YOU’RE WRONG! I’M THE ONLY ONE THAT IS RESPONSIBLE!” Adam snapped upright with one wayward black boot in his hand and an earthquake of pain bolted throughout his entire upper torso. The pain pulled forth a primal scream from the back of his throat and his teeth clenched hard together trying to contain the torture as it rampaged wildly within. Unable to keep it at bay, Adam slid from the bed to his knees, the tall black shank of the footwear he still held crushed between the white knuckled fists.

“Adam, stop please.” Ben begged as he crossed the room kneeing beside his son while taking the shaking shoulders back into his arms.

“Can’t breathe Pa.” The pain-ridden weary body fell back and submitted itself to the offered source of comfort.

Frightened, Ben raised a call for help, but knew he had little chance of being heard through the closed door. The decision of whether or not to leave was made when Adam slumped further down against his shoulder, his lips pressed tight while unshed tears rimmed just inside the darkened eyes.

“Slow breaths Adam, slow breaths.” Ben comforted and encouraged until the worst of it had passed.

But Adam would not be hushed – he needed to talk.

“Pa, I’m responsible for what happened. If I had convinced you to let me make the escape, Joe would never have been shot and then later he might not have been chosen as a hostage. I was the one in charge of the Judge’s security that night and I failed. I failed the men, I failed Joe and I failed you, almost got you killed. And then, I failed Joe again when they left him behind on the trail. As Hoss says it was like this nightmare that wouldn’t end. I think I started to welcome the physical pain because the mental pain was so horrendous. And now, Joe is hurt again because I couldn’t even stand up for him in court.”

Ben realized that for the first time it was not just the effects of the illness that Adam was trying to bear up under, it was the overwhelming crushing feelings of blame and guilt that he had unduly placed on his own shoulders.

“Son, no one could have predicted the events of that night, no one. We had taken every precaution for the situation, as we knew it. It was a series of events that we could not have known or predicted. You had nothing to do with the bank robbery, which led to Sean’s arrival on that road. You also had nothing to do with the fact that my revolver was damaged and not shooting straight that night. If I had checked it earlier, I might have been able to spare my two sons some of the worst burdens of their lives. And you did not put the bullet in Joe; you fought my decision to let him escape. If anyone is to blame for his injuries and all that resulted thereafter, it falls to me. You did everything within your power for your brother, you removed the bullet, you helped him on the trail and you gave him the ability to believe he could survive, no matter what. That’s why he’s alive in there now, if anything, he did not want to fail you Adam. He did an amazing job today in that courtroom; there is no way that Judge will not realize what the two of you went through. He was so proud of you. Now, please son, we need to concentrate on helping each other put this phase behind us. I expect the horror of it will eventually fade in time, but I do hope you know our love for you and for each other is what eventually allowed all of us to survive.”

Adam’s breathing by now had softened, gone was the attributing suffocating anxiety. Ben assisted his son up off the floor and gently eased him back into bed.

* * * * *

Doctor Martin entered the spare room where Ben was bent over his son, helping him adjust his position, the discomfort telling on the younger man’s face. A frown crossed the physicians face at seeing his patient’s current choice of wardrobe but pushed the question aside as both men looked up expectantly waiting for the latest news from the other room.

“He’s going to be fine, he just overdid it in the usual Joe style. I found out from Kate the last time he took the pain medicine was yesterday afternoon. I don’t think I’ll ever understand that boy’s reasoning, but I’ve got him on some laudanum and he’s asleep now. The wound is not any worse; it is still healing and I see no reason why it will not continue. I’ll even let you take him home in a couple of days.”

The stress fled Ben’s face. “Thank you Paul.”

“Can you make that pass good for two?” Adam inserted while Ben gave him an unearthly look.

“We’ll see.” Nothing in Paul’s demeanor appeared overly optimistic.

“Ben, how about giving me a few minutes with this stubborn son of yours, it looks like he has a story to tell and, in the meantime, there’s someone to see you out in the waiting room.”

* * * * *

“Judge Wilson, what brings you over here?” Ben asked in surprise.

“Hello Ben.” The Judge responded in kind. “Thought I’d drop by and see how your sons are doing? I don’t mind telling you, I feel partially responsible for what happened in court today, perhaps if we had managed to postpone the trial for a couple days . . . ”

“Judge, thank you for your concern but Paul has assured me they are both on the mend, it’s just going to take time. But I’m afraid their episodes today were just as much my fault, I know my sons and how stubborn each of them can be. Both tend to push themselves beyond their limits, especially when there is an emotional element involved. Frankly, I’m just glad to have it over with.” Ben looked at the Judge suddenly doubting his assumption, “It is over isn’t it?”

“Well, with the amount of testimony we covered today I have decided that I will spend this evening reviewing the case and make my judgments in a morning session at the court before I catch the afternoon stage to Dawson. I just thought you might want to be there when the final ruling is made.”

“Yes, of course I’ll be there and Judge since you’re here, there is one other thing I did want to ask you about.”

Tuesday, 11:00 am Everybody got their tickets?

The testimony and short trial was over and the Judge passed sentence. Steve Cole was given ten years imprisonment for his involvement in the Virginia City bank robbery, while the combined charges earned Walt and Sean each a sentence of twenty-five years.

The prisoners would next be transported to await trail first in Dawson, and then onto Reno. It was looking as if it would be a long time before any of the outlaws would walk free again. One big part of it was over for now. It was time for the Cartwrights to get back to their own lives and to help their friends pick up the remaining pieces.

Ben got sidetracked by a lot of concerned friends as they exited the courtroom for the final time that day. By the time he made it outside he found his two sons, as well as Hank, Farley, Nick and Charlie all waiting for him on the sidewalk.

“Pa, we’re all going to go to lunch over at the hotel and you’re coming with us.”

“Now Hoss, you know I have to get back to Joe, and Adam, just because Paul gave you leave to come to the sentencing, does not mean he’s going to let you traipse around town.”

“We’re not taking no for an answer. Hop-Sing is with Joe. He will come and get us if there’s any need. And one more hour won’t matter to Joe, but it will mean a lot to our friends.”

Ben scanned the determined faces. He knew he had good reason but it did suddenly feel as if he had been neglecting these very good friends who had stood by them every inch of the long road and had become such an important part of his family’s life. One hour was not too much to ask in return for all they had done.

“Alright, one hour. Adam, are you sure?” Ben fretted over how pale Adam looked.

“Paul said he wants me to rest but he also said I was to start eating more, can’t think of a better time to start.”

“Well the last thing I want to do is starve anyone. Let’s go.” Ben relented.

* * * * *

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to stay on Hank? We’ve got several remote line shacks up in the Northwest section that we would welcome you to take care of for us, kind of oversee the land up there, keep it free from poachers and other intruders. You’d still have some of that solitary lifestyle you like so well but you’d be receiving a regular salary. You’d be doing us a big favor, at least it would give you a stake if you want to start out on your own again come next year.”

“Ben, that is mighty tempting. Mind if I sleep on it? I’ll let you know in the morning.”

“Well regardless of your decision Hank, I’d like to make sure you get outfitted with supplies of your own as well as present you with a good horse.” Adam reminded Hank of the deal they had made when they had left the prison camp.

“Just one small hitch in that plan son,” Ben interjected. “You may have permission to go home tomorrow but you’re still on bed rest and that doesn’t include shopping trips. Hoss and I will help Hank with those supplies and maybe he can help us get a wagon together to take you home in.”

The look Adam gave his father featured a raised eyebrow but he nodded his consent. He truly had no desire to climb aboard a horse right now. Yesterday’s episode had only reinforced how susceptible his broken ribs were to the most basic of movements although Paul seemed satisfied that the vulnerable lung was sustaining itself enough now to put him on steady ground. The worst of the danger had passed. It would just now take time.

“Sounds like a pretty good offer to me Hank. Think I’d take them up on it.” Farley commented.

“What about you Farley – did you decide if you’re going back east to your family?” Hank responded.

“As a matter of fact I am and I’m getting rather excited about it. Been a long time since I’ve had something to look forward to.”

“Farley is going to take the train out of Sacramento.” Adam filled them in. “I had Hoss set it all up with the ticket master for him. Farley, you’re really going to like traveling that way and you’ll get to see all the great scenery as you cross the country. Because it’s summer there is no danger of snow shutting down the trains and you’ll be there in about three weeks. It’s my favorite way to go back east.”

“I’m definitely going to feel spoiled.” Farley smiled.

“You will have to write to us when you get there.” Ben reminded him.

“Speaking of writing, I almost forgot. The telegraph officer stopped me in the lobby. “This is for you Charlie.” Hoss handed over an important looking envelope.

“For me – a telegram?”

“Yep. Go ahead, open it.” Hoss encouraged.

“Ain’t telegrams only supposed to be bad things?” Charlie looked as if he wanted to drop the envelope like a hot potato.

“Sometimes, but I guarantee you this one ain’t.” Hoss was grinning from ear to ear and Ben eyed Hoss under a raised eyebrow.

Charlie slowly opened the flap and pulled the telegram from within. No one at the table said anything as they waited to hear.

“It’s from my son.” Charlie said in a low voice. “He and his family are going to be here on Friday’s stage.” He shook his head. “How did they know?”

Hoss’ grin was even deeper. “I sure hope ya don’t mind Charlie, but I wired ‘em and asked ‘em to come stay at the ranch fer a while.”

“Jenny’s coming too?”

“She sure is! Now ya better shine up them boots. You want to make sure that little girl’s grandpa is showin’ his best colors.”

“Charlie, that’s terrific. I’m just sorry I didn’t think to invite them myself. Hoss, thank you for taking care of that.” Ben praised his son’s initiative.

“Well, Pa, I think ya mighta had a few other things on yer mind. Ya woulda gotten ‘round to it; I just sped things up a mite.”

“Hoss, do they understand what happened to Charlie?” Hank asked.

“I sorta gave ‘em a quick summary. Afraid we’ll have to help fill in the pieces when they get here.”

“Well, Hoss if you’re going to take Charlie and Adam and possibly Hank back to the ranch tomorrow, I’d better tell Hop-Sing tonight. He’ll probably want to go home with you and start getting things ready.”

“Don’t you need him here Pa?”

“Paul assures me that Joe is on the mend, he’s just going to make sure Joe doesn’t try and speed things up again. He even said that Joe could go home as soon as Thursday.”

“That’s great news Pa. I know Joe ‘ll be thrilled.” Hoss lit up.

“Well he will be whenever I decide to tell him.” Ben said with a twinkle in his eye. “But that does leave another young man that we haven’t discussed yet – Nick.”

“We’ll just take him out to the ranch with us tomorrow Pa,” said Hoss.

“I’m thinking that maybe, just maybe, a certain young man might be getting a bit homesick. After all your poor mother only got to see you for a few short hours before you up and left her again.”

Nick looked up sheepishly from his second piece of apple pie. He had been matching Hoss bite for bite and still showed no signs of filling. “At least she knows I’m okay this time that I’m with you all.”

“She is still your mother and she had a right to be concerned.” Ben lectured softly. “So this afternoon you are going home young man.”

“This afternoon!” It was so soon and a slight pout worked at the corners of Nick’s mouth.

“Yes. I’ve already arranged it. The Circuit Judge is taking the two o’clock stage today to Dawson and he will personally be accompanying you all the way back so there’s no way you will be able to get yourself into any more trouble. I’ll send the horses Hoss borrowed back with Roy when they schedule the formal transport of the prisoners.”

“Sounds like you may have had a little experience in dealing with wayward sons Ben.” Farley smiled.

“Just a tad.” But then Ben softened. “Now Nick, after you’ve gone home and got yourself all settled back into a regular life, then perhaps in the spring you’d like to come back out to the Ponderosa for a nice long visit.”

“That would be great Mr. Cartwright.” The boy relented knowing home was exactly where he wanted to go.

“How ‘bout if we cap this lunch off with a beer over at the Golden Nugget?” Hoss suggested. “Give Nick a chance to breathe ‘fore he has to put on that best behavior suit later.”

“Nick will be just fine.” Ben smiled at Hoss’ imagined reference of a stuffed shirt authority. “There was no one easier or more personable to talk to than Judge Wilson and Ben had every confidence the two would get along very well.

“Please everyone go ahead and have that beer. I’m going to pass up on the offer though. First I’m going to check on Joe and talk to Hop-Sing; then I’m going to turn in. Adam, it turns out you’re not the only one who has a standing order for more bed rest, but I told Paul I’d rather take mine over at the hotel where I won’t have two sons constantly keeping me on anxious alert. Good day everyone.”

* * *

Chapter 11

Sunday – Noon – Three weeks later – Let The Summer Games Begin

Ever since the boys were very small this had always been the Cartwright’s favorite place for a picnic and today they could not have asked for better cooperation from Mother Nature. Under the shade of several tall pine trees, in a gently rolling meadow, with a grand view of the majestic Lake Tahoe, they had spread out several colorful quilts upon the warm sun-kissed earth. A few more months and the land would be brown and dry from the high heat of the blazing summer sun; but today the deep green grasses were still rich and fragrant and a gentle breeze wafted softly over this beautiful piece of land. A wide stream filled with winter melts from the high snow-capped sierra mountains cut a slightly winding path through this acreage as it flowed down towards the lake. Nearby a branch of the main stream forked off and kept a large deep pool full of clean clear water. It was close to the stream that the Cartwrights and their guests had spread out the many baskets of culinary treats.

“Another piece Hoss?” Charlotte asked as she offered a basket containing several pieces of crispy golden-fried chicken.

“No ma’am, can’t fit in even one more bite.” Hoss rubbed his stomach as he thanked the pretty brunette who had been gracing their home with her sweet smile and charm. “Hop-Sing sure outdid himself today didn’t he Pa?”

“Yes he sure did. He packed us all a fine picnic fare for the Weaver’s last day with us. We’ve got so much food here we might have to convince them to stay with us another week.”

“This little bit of food.” An incredulously impish voice piped up as it’s owner pulled a long blade of grass from between his teeth, while he continued to recline lazily on his back watching the soft white billowy clouds passing overhead. “Who are you fooling Pa? Couple of snacks is about all it’s good for when big brother’s stomach gets a growling.”

“Now Little Joe, ya seem ta have eaten more than yer share today, so don’t go ’harassing me.” Hoss took a light swipe at Joe’s arm in a friendly gesture.

“Well, I’m just glad to see Joe getting his appetite back.” Ben stated. “Makes me believe he’s finally on the mend.”

“Yes, you were getting mighty puny there for a while Joe.” A voice arose from behind the gilded pages of an open book held in the hands of a man who seemed buried within its secrets. “Afraid we were going to lose your trade-in value if you kept going on that way.”

“I dun told ya Adam, it ain’t like we’re keepin’ him ‘round for an investment. You know we’ll never git our money’s worth. It’s just kinda fun to have a kid brother to push around, ya know for chores and stuff.”

“Well he sure seemed to go out of his way this last month to get out of his chores.” Adam lightly jested.

“Ha!” Joe scoffed in return. “You seem to have done a fairly good job of that yourself.”

“I wish I had a little brother.” The five-year old little girl, sitting in her grandfather’s lap, spoke up as she adjusted the blue ruffles on the hem of her summer dress. “Mama, can we get one when we get home?”

“Don’t ya fret none sweetheart.” Hoss soothed the child’s concerns. “We’ll be happy ta ship ours over to you anytime ya want him.”

“Mama, can I play with Joe now?” she asked as she climbed from Charlie’s lap her blond curls and hair ribbons bouncing behind her. “I want to throw those horsyshoe things.”

“I think Joe is a little tired right now honey. Maybe Daddy will go play with you.” Charlotte suggested as she began packing up several of the food containers.

“I don’t mind Charlotte, really.” Joe said sitting up from his spot on the quilt. “Come on honey, I’ll go play those horsyshoe things with you. It’s only the older kids that need their naps. Us young’uns got more than enough energy.”

The group watched Joe take little Jenny by the hand and with her skipping beside him they made their way over to where a couple of long wooden stakes had been set deep into the ground. Ben could not help but notice how well Joe’s recovery was coming along. It was still going to be another week before Dr. Martin would allow him to do any riding and another couple weeks before beginning to resume regular ranch duties but having the Weavers here at the ranch had certainly helped keep Joe’s mind off his limitations. That, plus the fact his older brother was almost as limited, if not more so than he was. Joe had actually received some allowances from the doctor sooner than Adam and Joe had no problem lording it over his brother’s head. After being discharged from bed rest, Joe had contented himself with giving little Jenny riding lessons on Starlight, a small gentle mare. The five year old looked incredibly tiny even on the smaller horse but she had absolutely no fear. Like Charlie had told them, she loved her horsies.

Charlie’s granddaughter had absolutely charmed everyone in the household, including Hop-Sing who would often slip her a couple sugar cubes or a carrot to share with her horse and let her into his usually off-limits kitchen to help him make cinnamon cookies. So enchanted with the child, Hop-Sing even allowed Charlotte to assist him with the extra chores of taking care of two housebound patients while Charlie’s son, Kyle, incredibly thankful to the Cartwright’s for helping rescue his father, insisted on helping Hoss with many of the ranch chores that would normally be done by Joe and Adam.

“Ben, it looks like life is beginning to return to normal for everyone. I really can’t tell you how much we have enjoyed being here and spending this time together with your family.” Kyle expressed. “But it is time for father to start getting settled back into life in Carson City now that he’s agreed to make his home there with us.”

“Well Charlie, I think you’ve got a very good thing happening to you and the best part of your moving to Carson City is that it isn’t very far away. We’re all over there often enough and we’ll be able to keep up regular visits.” Ben responded grateful that Charlie’s son wanted his father to be a part of their household where he would be well looked after and a valuable member of such a loving family.

Kyle was right. Things were returning to normal. Hank had decided to take the job Ben had offered and Hoss would be taking him up to the high country in a couple days. Hank was currently assisting Ben’s foreman in delivering a string of horses to one of Ben’s contracts that was overdue. His personality had fitted in so well with the ranch hands that Ben wished Hank would stick around the ranch but Hank politely declined, saying he preferred the solitary lifestyle.

In addition, Ben had recently received several letters. One from Nick’s mother thanking him for all he had done in taking care of her son and how much he seemed to have grown and matured since his return. She included several updates on many of the men who had been reunited with their own families, mostly with very positive results and the few who were still hoping for word. Many of them indicated they would write to Ben when they were finally settled. The second was from Nick himself. It seemed, the Circuit Judge took a liking to the young man during their short journey and Nick was now on special assignment helping both the Judge and the Governor complete their investigation. He said he was thinking of becoming a deputy now like his brother although his father would much prefer it if he stayed in farming. But as he said he was in no hurry to decide.

One other letter held a special note for Ben. It was from the governor himself stating that even though the investigation still had a way to go, he had considered the proposal Ben had submitted regarding the distribution of the gold and he had decided to approve that immediately in order to help the men and their families get started again.

After an hour of chasing butterflies and discovering a nest full of bird eggs, even Joe was having a bit of trouble keeping up with Jenny’s unwavering enthusiasm for nature. When Jenny found some wiggly caterpillars to stare at, Joe got an idea.

“Jenny, how about we go and get Hoss and do a little fishing?”

“Okay, but can Adam come too?”

Joe looked over at Adam still immersed in the content of the written word, his back reclining deeply against the base of a tree. Joe doubted if Adam could be enticed away from the power of the pen but Jenny proved once again she had all three of the boys totally bewitched.

Adam retrieved the poles and brought them to the bank of the pond where Joe and Hoss had unearthed some live bait.

Jenny looked up at the long length of the fishing rods, three times bigger than she was, and her little chin crumpled wondering if she would be able to do this fishing thing. “Is it going to be hard?” she asked.

“Oh no.” Joe quickly reassured her. “Fishing is really very easy. No trick to it at all. In fact there are only two very important things to remember.”

“What’s that Joe?” Adam asked warily amused wondering what words of wisdom his brother was going to impart on her tiny mind as he carefully baited one of the hooks.

“Well Jenny – you have to make sure there are always two things in the water. One is – plenty of fish and the second …

… a bossy older brother.”

In a movement so quick Joe’s right arm flashed out and caught Adam strongly in the shoulder. Totally off guard, Adam lost his grip on the pole as he toppled over backwards, slipping on the soft mossy bank and plunging right into the cool water below, creating one very large splash.

Hoss took one look at the surfacing swirl of bubbles and the emerging locks of dark hair that dripped heavily down over the face of his normally reserved and polished brother. Watching Adam sit up among a patch of water reeds with his shirt totally plastered to his toned chest, Hoss began howling with laughter; while very curious parents glanced in their direction not quite sure what all the commotion was about but sure the little girl was safe with the older responsible ones.

“Why you little scamp.” Hoss grinned. “You did hear us that day after all.”

“Yeah – I sure did Hoss.” Joe smiled mischievously. “The only thing is there were actually two brothers that made me climb that hill.”

* * * * *

Jenny’s giggles filled the air as she ran back to her mother’s arms.

“Mommy, can I go swimming like the big boys?”

THE END