Summary:  When help is desperately needed, Cochise provides it.

Rating: T
Word Count: 4,208

Adam and Joe had delivered a herd of cattle to the fort per the Ponderosa’s contract to supply beef to the army. The Ponderosa’s contract also required the delivery of twenty head to the small band of Shoshoni who had been forced to live in a place called Indian Town per the Treaty of Ruby Valley.  Indian Town was populated by the elderly and the young as both warriors and able-bodied men had been killed off in conflicts with the army or white settlers. The Shoshoni, several days’ ride from the fort, had had to give up their traditional ways and live off of army charity and small garden plots.

Between the glare of the late-afternoon sun, the mooing cattle, and the rocking of Sport’s gait, Adam drifted off in the saddle.  It was a week’s ride back to the Ponderosa from Indian Town and he was already planning on hibernating in the comfort of his bed for several days.

“What?” Adam asked after getting a punch to the upper arm.

“Town’s up ahead.”

The cattle, smelling water, picked up their pace.  Adam jolted awake as Sport changed to a trot.

Indian Town always radiated a feeling of life even though it wasn’t a boisterous place like Virginia City. To Joe, it now felt deserted, the life gone out of it.  He brushed a palm against the back of his neck – the fine hairs were standing on end. He couldn’t remember what his mother had called that sensation of chills when everything felt out of place. Pa called it a sixth sense but his mother had had a word in French.

“You smell that?” asked Joe.

Adam took a deep breath and pulled his bandana from his back pocket to cover his nose.

The stench of decay overpowered men and beasts.  The horses tossed their heads and pulled against the bits, eager to be far away from this place. The cattle bolted down the single street and kept going; Adam knew the beasts would eventually stop so it was only a matter of he and Joe catching up to them.

“Maybe there’s been a sickness,” said Adam.

“Or a massacre.”

They reined in their horses, preparing to dismount.  A meaty smack and Adam yelled as an arrow embedded under his collar bone. The reins fell from his hand and he swayed in the saddle. Joe threw himself from Cochise into his brother, knocking him to the hard-packed street, snapping the arrow shaft.

Joe grabbed Adam’s belt and pulled him up, steering his brother towards a house and safety. Arrow fletching brushed Joe’s shoulder as he shoved Adam at a door. Joe drew his pistol and fired in several directions to give them cover.

The door gave way at Adam’s impact and he staggered through into the house, Joe on his heels. Once inside, Adam’s knees buckled as the adrenaline rush wore off. He collapsed in a heap, moaning as pain throbbed with each heartbeat.

An arrow thunked into the doorframe so Joe bellycrawled across the floor to shut the door.  He turned his attention to Adam and used his knife to tear the shirt away from what remained of the arrow shaft. Joe winced at the jaggedly-broken arrow by Adam’s fall.

“Sorry, brother, but I’ve gotta test it.”

The muscle in Joe’s jaw twitched as Adam cursed him out in three languages.

The broken arrow didn’t budge.

Adam grimaced and moaned at the intensity of the pain.  He would have gratefully yielded to the abyss of unconsciousness.

From the corner of his eye, Joe caught a glimpse of movement outside the window.  He launched himself like a springing panther and collided with a body.

Shaking off the daze, Joe said, “You’re a kid!”

A boy who couldn’t yet be ten glared at Joe as he struggled beneath the white man.

“Speak English?”

The boy didn’t answer so Joe grabbed him by the arms and jerked him upright.  The quiver on the boy’s back was empty.

“You understand English?”

The boy shook his head.

Joe sighed but didn’t loosen his grip on the scrawny boy.  He dragged the boy into the street and grabbed up the bow before returning to his brother.

Upon seeing Adam, the boy pointed and said a jumble of words in Shoshoni.  The kid then kicked Adam in the side, eliciting a scream from the man in black.  Despite the pain, Adam grabbed the boy by the ankle and yanked, pulling the young Indian to the floor.  The boy’s butt hit the floor hard but he didn’t yelp.

Joe paced the floor like a trapped wolf as he ran his fingers through his hair.  His brother needed a doctor but first he had to find their horses.  They couldn’t leave the kid here among the dead. The cattle would either find their way to water or would be hunted down by bears, panthers, or wolves. The army had paid for their beef and the twenty head were going to be eaten whether by people or animals.

“You’re gonna have to get up,” said Joe.

“Just leave me here,” said Adam.

“Cut the melodrama.  Your legs aren’t hurt.”

Joe looked at the boy.  “You’re coming, too.”  He waved his hand in a gesture he hoped the boy knew as come.

“Up you get.”  Joe grabbed Adam’s belt and good arm to pull him up.

The boy got behind Adam and gave a push for good measure.

“We have to call you something,” said Joe.

“I christen thee Iapetus, god of mortality.”  Adam chuckled at his cleverness.

Joe clenched his teeth as he finally got Adam on his feet.  “That makes no sense.”  The boy peeked around Adam and Joe pointed at the kid and said, “We’ll call you Pete.”

Adam swayed as Joe draped a black-clad arm across his shoulders and encircled his brother’s waist, clutching a beltloop in his fingers to keep him steady.  The boy, trying to be helpful, hooked his fingers through the gun belt.

The trio exited from the dim interior into the blast-furnace heat of late afternoon. In their short time in Indian Town, the two white men had become accustomed to the smell of death on the still air.  Neither knew how the Indians had died and Pete couldn’t tell them.

“Stay here,” said Joe as he darted across the street to check a house.  A cloud of flies met him at the door.  He held his bandana over his nose as he scanned the floor and walls for evidence of a fight.  The decomposing body on the floor bore no obvious wounds that he could see.  Joe crossed himself even though he wasn’t a practicing Catholic and returned to Adam and Pete.

“Didn’t see any bullet holes.” Joe pulled Adam’s arm across his shoulders again and they started walking.  “I hope to God it wasn’t a massacre but was a sickness instead.”

Pete said a few words and pointed in a general direction but neither Cartwright knew what the boy meant.

As the men trudged out of town, Adam said, “The horses are probably well on their way home by now.”

Joe licked his lips and whistled a piercing blast three times.

“What are you, a steam whistle at one of the mines?”

Joe tugged on Adam’s belt loop as his brother started sagging.  “Have faith, Cochise will be here in a minute or so.”

Five minutes passed.

“Joseph, my faith is sorely tested. I need to rest.”

“Not yet,” said Joe.  There were a couple of boulders in the distance and he wanted to have those at his back if they had to spend the night in the open.  He also wanted to get out of sight of Indian Town.  “Just a few more steps.”

“Promise?” asked Adam before his feet gave out.

Joe was pulled down with his brother and, fortunately for Adam, Joe broke his fall.

“Get. Off.”

Adam lay still, his tanned face a paler shade than normal.

Pete slapped Adam’s cheek a few times then said a few words.

Joe wriggled his way out from underneath his larger brother and sat for a moment, judging how far to the boulders.  “Come on, Pete, let’s get him up.”

Planting his feet wide, Joe draped Adam across his shoulders as if he were a deer carcass. Man and boy set off for the boulders at a slow but steady pace – Joe, worried about the heat radiating from his brother, concentrated on breathing under Adam’s weight and Pete kept up a steady chatter.

Upon reaching their destination, Joe set his brother’s back against a boulder as gently as he could. Adam’s head lolled, chin practically resting against his chest.  They had no fire, no food, and no water.  With nothing else to do, Joe sat down next to Adam and rested his shoulder against his brother’s undamaged one.  Pete sat down on Adam’s other side, but laid down to rest his head on the man’s lap.

“Sweet dreams,” said Joe as he pulled his hat down over his eyes.

He assumed Pete replied with a similar sentiment.

**********

Joe caught the smell of smoke. Out of habit, he leapt to his feet, still muzzy but ready to save the Ponderosa.  He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.  The campfire was still there and a man dressed in a black coat and top hat sat opposite it frying up bacon and eggs in a cast iron skillet.

“Good morning, young sir.  I’m Doctor Hezekiah Davis.  Pleased to make your acquaintance.  Your name is?

“Cartwright.  Joe Cartwright.” He ran a hand through his hair.  “Where did you come from?”

Before the other man could answer, a young woman wearing a beaded buckskin dress and moccasins stepped into view with Pete at her side.  Her glossy black hair, in two braids, shone in the morning sun like polished obsidian.  Joe’s jaw dropped at the sight of radiant beauty in such a desolate place.

“Oh, please allow me to introduce my companion . . . .”

The woman stuck out her hand and said, “Little Flowuh.”

Joe couldn’t help but laugh at the woman’s nasal, East Coast voice.

Little Flower scowled and stood, arms akimbo.  “You ain’t a gentleman.”  She flounced over to Adam with a canteen in hand, Pete trotting behind her like a besotted puppy.

She knelt beside Adam and put the canteen to his lips.  He swallowed as cool water trickled into his mouth.

He opened his eyes and drank in her oval face, large brown eyes, and pert nose.  “An angel,” he said before his eyes rolled back and he fell into darkness once again.

Joe shook his head and walked a few paces as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“How did you find us?”

“We followed the horse.”

“What?”

“Are you hard of hearing?” Little Flower asked.  “A horse led us here.”

Joe looked around but didn’t see Cochise or Sport.  “Where is it?”

Hezekiah gestured over his shoulder with the fork he was using to scramble the eggs. “Over there somewhere.”

Joe whistled and was rewarded with a familiar neigh.  A smile lit his face as Cochise, followed by a sway-backed bay, trotted into view.  Joe couldn’t hold back and he crossed the distance and hugged his horse around the neck, burying his face in Cochise’s mane.

“How about a cup of coffee?” Joe asked.

“Oh, pardon my lack of manners,” said Hezekiah as he set the fork on the ground and poured steaming coffee into a blue-speckled tin enamel cup.

Joe accepted the offered cup with a nod and let Cochise have the first sip.

“You didn’t happen to see a second horse, did you?” Joe asked.

“Does it drink coffee, too?” asked Little Flower.

“No, his tastes are more refined.” Joe smiled but she looked more irritated than amused.

Hezekiah shook his head.  “We only saw the one.  It was as if he had a destination in mind so we just let him lead the way.”

“You didn’t happen to see any cattle did you?”

“Only a carcass but other than that, no.”

Joe nodded.

“Where are you headed?” he asked before taking a swig of coffee.

“Virginia City.  I sell medicines guaranteed to restore men and women to the prime of health.  They only contain the purest of herbs, the secrets of which I’ve learned from the Natives of this land.”

“Folks like her?” Joe asked, gesturing with the cup.

Little Flower glared at Joe as she gently brushed the hair back from Adam’s forehead with her fingertips.

“Where are you headed, Mr. Cartwright?”

“Joe.  Same place.  We’re from the Ponderosa.  My brother, Adam, and I, that is.  Pete’s from Indian Town, a way’s back.”  He studied Hezekiah for a moment.  “Say, you’re a doctor.  My brother has an arrow stuck in him.  Can you get it out?”

“He ain’t that kinda doctor,” said Little Flower.

Hezekiah cleared his throat.  “What she means is I’m not a surgeon.  However, I do have medicines for fever if that will help your brother until we reach Virginia City.”

Little Flower cocked her head and studied Pete for a moment.  “How come he’s with you instead of with his muthah?”

“Everyone’s dead.”

“You poor dear!”  She grabbed the boy in a hug and Pete froze, unsure what he should do.  Little Flower stroked his hair as she held him tight.  Pete finally relaxed and sniffled a bit but no tears escaped his eyes.

“If breakfast is ready, we should eat and be on our way,” said Joe.

“Of course,” said Hezekiah.

He plated up the food and served their guests first.  Little Flower tried feeding Pete with a fork but he quickly shoveled eggs and bacon into his mouth with his fingers. She turned her attention to Adam, rousing him enough to eat a few bites of egg.

After breakfast was done and the skillet cleaned and packed, Joe helped Hezekiah hitch the bay to the wagon so they could be on their way.

“Help me get Adam into the wagon.”

The men got Adam on his feet and half-dragged him to the wagon.  Adam sweated from the heat of fever.  Joe knew his brother had a strong constitution and should be able to fight off the infection.  They got him settled into the back of the wagon, propped up by the boxes of inventory. Little Flower climbed in to tend to Adam.  Pete wasn’t sure what to do so he settled for sitting on the seat next to the doctor.

Joe mounted Cochise and the small group headed off for Virginia City.

**********

The late morning silence was shattered by Adam singing Early One Morning off key and loud.

Joe reined in Cochise and directed the horse to the back of the wagon.  He gritted his teeth and thought Adam had at least sounded passionate when serenading Abigail Jones; now he sounded like a love-sick bull.

Adam stopped long enough to take a deep draught from a brown bottle.

“Ain’t he got a beautiful voice?” Little Flower’s face glowed with adoration.

“What is that stuff?” asked Joe.

“Medicine,” said Little Flower.  In her accent it was “med-uh-suhn.”

“What kind of medicine?”

“Vegetable Remedy,” answered Hezekiah.  “I can tell by the aroma.”

Adam belched and tossed the bottle out of the back of the wagon, shattering it into glistening shards when it hit the ground. “Another, fair wench!”

“Don’t let him consume the inventory!” hollered the doctor.

Little Flower uncorked a fresh bottle and wrapped Adam’s fingers around it.  “Take your medicine like a good boy.”

Adam complied.

Joe turned Cochise and headed to the front of the wagon.  Pete, nimble as a monkey, leapt from the wagon onto Cochise, landing behind Joe.

“I can’t take it, either,” muttered Joe.

Cochise’s ears pricked at a distant moo.  “We’ll be back,” said Joe.  The horse sprang into a gallop to do the job he was trained to do.

Adam took another long drink from the bottle.  “Do my ears deceive me or was that a bovine?”

“Huh?” asked Little Flower.

“It was indeed a cow,” answered the doctor.

Adam fixed Little Flower with a serious look.  “Cattle are like Easter eggs – they hide in unexpected places and we have to find ‘em.”  He hiccupped five times in a row then drew in a long breath.  “If my brother has gone on an Easter egg hunt then we’ll surely have beef for supper.”

“That don’t make no sense.”

“Course it does.” He spoke slow and loud, as if that would help her understand.  “The steers hide themselves, usually in brush or hard to reach places.  Cowboys are like children hunting bright-colored eggs, ‘cept there ain’t no prizes for whoever gets the most.”

Adam took another drink then giggled as he set the bottle aside. He crooked a finger, gesturing for Little Flower to come closer.  She leaned in.

“You do know you must always drink upstream from the herd, right?”

She shook her head. “Why?”

Adam reached out with a forefinger and tapped her nose. “What comes out of the back end of a steer?”

Her eyebrows drew together for a brief moment before rising in twin arcs.

“Exactly,” Adam said.

He took another long drink.  “Where’s my brother?  My baby brother.”

“He ain’t here,” she said.

“Jooooseph!”

Adam picked up the bottle and shook it, disappointed that it was empty.  Little Flower took the bottle from him before he could toss it from the wagon.

“Joe reminds me of a tumbleweed, always drifting whichever way the wind blows him.” Adam drank deeply again.  “Did you know tumbleweeds are best left to themselves?”

She shook her head, hanging on every word.

“Yup, sure are. They just roll over everything in their path or get tangled up in a fence.” He took another drink then muttered, “Tumbleweeds are useless.”

He hiccupped again then his jaw went slack as he fell into a drunken stupor.  Little Flower gently took the bottle from his hand and reset the cork.

“I hope he sleeps for a long while,” said Hezekiah.

Little Flower sighed and said, “Me, too.”

**********

Joe returned to the wagon an hour later with five steers.  He figured the rest were a loss but as they’d been paid for them it didn’t matter.

The doctor had stopped for a midday meal of bread and beans.  He fixed two plates and offered them to Joe and Pete.  The boy took a bite of the bread and spit it out but was content to scoop the beans into his mouth.

“How’s Adam?”

“Sleeping.  He’s fevered but not any worse than he was this morning.  Surely that’s a good sign.”

Joe grunted around a mouthful of beans.  He hoped it meant Adam wouldn’t get any worse.

After finishing their meal, the group set out again but this time Pete rode on Cochise in front of Joe.

**********

When they made camp that evening, Joe and Hezekiah pulled Adam out of the wagon.  The stench of whiskey and stale sweat wafted from the wounded man, causing Hezekiah to gag.  Little Flower put down a blanket and they laid him upon it.

Adam breathed shallowly in the cooling evening air, his face and chest glistening with sweat. The doctor examined the wound – the skin around the protruding broken arrow was red.  Not knowing anatomy, Hezekiah couldn’t risk removing the arrow.  Joe believed he could have easily removed a bullet but an arrow took knowledge he didn’t have.

“I fear this will turn to gangrene,” said Hezekiah.

Joe rubbed a hand across his mouth, wiping the sweat from his upper lip.  He couldn’t – wouldn’t – let his brother die.

Little Flower brought more blankets from the back of the wagon and piled them on Adam.

“Maybe I should snuggle up to him.  You know, for warmth.”

“Don’t dally with a man nearly in his grave,” said Hezekiah.  An uncomfortable feeling, as if he were being watched by a vulture, crept over him. He flinched at Joe’s glare and said, “I didn’t mean your brother is actually going to die tonight.  We all die.  Eventually.”  He looked down at his boots and scuffed one in the dirt.

“That arm might have to come clean off.”

Joe grabbed the man by the shirtfront and pulled him close enough to smell the fear on his breath. “My brother is a rancher. A man can’t work cattle with just one arm.”

“There are other things he could do – accounting, for instance.”

Joe pushed the doctor back.  “You’d condemn him to half a life.”

Little Flower snapped at both men.  “There’s gotta be something you can do. You got some medical learnin’.”

Adam groaned and Joe ran a hand through his hair as he tried to think of a solution.

Hezekiah said, “I’ll boil some water and pour it on the wound.  A good dosing with alcohol will hopefully set things right.”

“He’s dosed himself with enough alcohol,” said Joe. “He’s beyond drunk.”

“Doctor Hezekiah’s medicines ain’t like that!” said Little Flower. “They’re good for what ails you.”

Joe snorted as the doctor poured water into a pot and set it over the fire.

When the water was bubbling, Joe tapped Pete on the shoulder and gestured to Adam’s legs. Pete sat down on them.  Joe held Adam’s arms pinned by his side.

Hezekiah looked away as he poured the boiling water onto the wound.  Tears trailed down his cheeks as Adam screamed like an animal.

When the deed was done and Adam was unconscious, Hezekiah pulled the cork from a bottle of Vegetable Remedy and downed half of it in one swallow.

Little Flower knelt by Adam’s head and whispered over and over, “It’ll be okay.”

**********

In the morning, the group set out again. By evening, Virginia City was in sight.

Adam had awoken and was again singing.  However, his repertoire was now Christmas carols.

A crowd gathered on the street to meet the wagon.  Ben and Hoss pushed past and made their way to greet Joe and his companions.

Ben took in the doctor and Pete but assumed the boy belonged to the man. As soon as he saw his son in the back of the wagon was in mama bear mode, ready to protect his boy.

“Get the doctor, Hoss.”

Hoss ran down the street determined to drag the doctor if he had to.

“What happened?” asked Ben.

“Arrow.  The rest is a long story,” said Joe.

“Howdy, Pa,” said Adam before he dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Ben waved a hand to dispel the distillery smell emanating from his eldest son.  He tried to help his son sit up but Adam fell back, smacking the back of his head against the wagon floor.”

“Ow.”

Hoss returned with Doctor Martin.

“Get him out of there.”

Joe and Ben, with a little help from Pete, got Adam out of the wagon and on his feet. The two men had to hold tight to keep Adam from swaying too much and Pete helped by holding onto Adam’s gun belt.

Doctor Martin pressed around the wound as Adam hissed and moaned.  Clear fluid leaked around the protruding arrow shaft.

“You did a good job of field dressing this, Joe.”

“Wasn’t me.  Hezekiah poured boiling water on it.”

“I didn’t complain once about it, did I, Joe?” asked Adam, his words slurred.

“Saved his life, and his arm,” said Doctor Martin.

Hezekiah beamed with pride at praise from a real doctor.  He jumped down from the wagon seat and thrust out his hand to greet his fellow medical practitioner but Ben grabbed his hand and shook it exuberantly.

“Get Adam to my office,” said Doctor Martin.

Hoss swung an arm around his brother’s waist and lifted him off the ground then followed the physician.

“Whee!” said Adam before he burst into a giggling fit.

Little Flower looked at the retreating figures then Joe, then she made her decision.  She gave Joe a peck on the cheek then ran down the street to catch up with Hoss, eager to nurse Adam back to health.

Pete said a few words that no one understood then tugged on Joe’s sleeve. Joe knelt down to be on eye-level with the boy.  Pete wrapped his arms around Joe’s neck and hugged him before trotting off after Little Flower.

Joe pushed his hat back and sighed as he watched Hoss, Little Flower, and Pete disappear into the doctor’s office.  He didn’t understand how a woman like that could be so besotted with his drunk brother.

“You’re a mighty good doctor Hezekiah,” said Joe.

The other man blushed and scuffed the toe of his boot in the dirt.

“Can I buy you a drink for your troubles, Hezekiah?” asked Ben.

“I could use a barrel of whiskey, Pa.”

The three men headed for the Bucket of Blood.

“Why did you bring back a few steers?” asked Ben.

“That’s a long story, Pa.  You should ask Adam.”

***The End***

Written for Bonanza Brand’s 2023 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament. The words/phrases dealt to me were:

massacre
Easter egg hunt
“always drink upstream from the herd”
“tumbleweeds are best left to themselves”
[Joker]