Summary: Joe’s plans are radically changed when he has to make a difficult decision.
Rating:  PG
Words:  9,825

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Sacrifice

Joe dismounted near the stream and led Cochise to the water’s edge. “Drink up, ol’ buddy,” he murmured, patting the horse’s neck. “Another day or so and we’ll be home.”

While his equine friend quenched his thirst, Joe closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the clean, fresh air. He couldn’t remember a more perfect day. The sky was a clear blue without a single cloud to mar its vastness while the light afternoon breeze offered just enough respite from the warm sun. Smiling to himself, he realized that he’d probably experienced many such days in his lifetime. What made this one so special was the fact that he was on his way home. Though it was nice to get away from the Ponderosa for a short time, there was, without a doubt, an inherent comfort in returning. It was more than a ranch to him, more than a home. The rivers and streams that cut through the land were as much a part of him as the blood that coursed through his veins. The earth seemed to pulse with an energy that kept time with every beat of his heart. It patiently tolerated his absence, but it was always there to welcome him home, enveloping him in a sense of peace and tranquility that surely rivalled that of Heaven itself. He truly was a lucky man.

After a short rest, he swung himself into the saddle once again, intent on erasing the miles that still lay between him and that which made him complete – his home and family. In an attempt to cut a few precious hours from his journey, he left the road and began picking his way over the rocky, uneven land.

He’d travelled only a few miles when he caught sight of something seemingly out of place in the secluded terrain. Squinting slightly, he processed the scene before him, and then gently urged his faithful mount to a slightly faster gait.

“Afternoon, Ma’am,” he smiled amiably as he dismounted beside the crippled wagon. “Looks like you could use some help.”

She turned from where she’d been trying in vain to fix the wheel, obviously startled at his presence. “Stay away,” she warned in a shaky voice.

“I just want to help,” he frowned slightly. Nodding at the wheel, he continued, “Like I said, it looks like you could use it.”

“You can’t help,” she replied flatly. “Please, do us both a favour and be on your way.”

He took a moment to glance around them at the untamed terrain. “Pardon me for saying so, but this isn’t exactly the route most often travelled by wagon,” he pointed out. “It may be weeks before someone else comes by, if then. I can’t just leave you here like this.” He took a step closer, his gaze on the broken wheel. “It won’t take a …”

“Stop!” she exclaimed urgently, flattening herself against the side of the wagon. “Please, don’t come any closer.”

He frowned again. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured her gently, halting in his tracks.

She shook her head quickly. “You don’t understand,” she explained, her voice strangled with barely controlled emotion. She turned quickly and reached into the back of the wagon, pulling back a blanket to reveal a still form. “My husband,” she breathed, her chest heaving with the words. As she gazed at the pale figure, she lost her battle for control. “We thought we made it out in time,” she managed to choke out through her tears. “But it’s too late. It’s too late for Wade and it’s too late for me.” She broke down in sobs, hanging onto the side of the wagon as her strength seemed to leave her.

He was at her side in an instant, taking her arm to steady her, confusion etched in his brow.

“No!” she cried, wrenching free of his touch and turning to run. “Don’t touch me!”

He caught her easily, grasping her arm in a firm but gentle grip and turning her to face him. “Whatever it is, I can help,” he assured her quietly. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about me,” she lamented, her voice filled with anguish as she struggled to release herself from his grasp. “It’s Fever.”

He released her immediately at the words. “Fever,” he repeated with just the hint of a question. “When? Where?”

She took a few steps backward until she felt comfortable with the distance between them. “Red Rock Falls,” she answered, wiping her cheek with the back of one hand. “We left two weeks ago, right after the first people began to take sick. Wade came down with it four days ago.” She swallowed, glancing back at the wagon before adding in a quiet voice. “He died last night.”

Joe digested the information for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he offered sincerely. Then, after weighing the risks for only a second, he came up with the only solution his conscience would allow. “You’ll need help burying him.”

She looked at him as though he’d lost his senses completely. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s Fever. I’m already as good as dead. If you touch either of us, you’ll condemn yourself to the same fate.”

“The doctor in Red Rock Falls,” Joe began. “Did he know what was causing the fever?”

She brushed a wayward strand of blond hair from her face. “There’s no doctor,” she sighed wearily. “He died two years ago.”

Joe nodded at the bit of information. He had no idea what had killed the young woman’s husband, but there was one thing he was sure of – he couldn’t leave her alone to face whatever fate awaited her. “Look,” he pointed out gently. “We don’t exactly have a choice here. It’s going to be dark in a few hours. Why don’t you let me bury your husband and fix that wheel. We may be able to make it to Carson City before sundown.”

“No,” she shook her head vehemently. “Carson City is where we were headed when Wade took sick. We couldn’t risk infecting the whole town, so Wade insisted we turn back. That’s why we left the main road, to avoid coming into contact with anyone else.” She looked at him with a pleading expression. “Please, just leave us and be on your way.”

“And just what am I supposed to do?” he demanded firmly. “Leave you here to die? I’m sorry, Ma’am, but that just isn’t possible.”

Her head ached and she felt as though her limbs were made of lead. Arguing with this stranger was just something she didn’t feel up to. “Please,” she whispered through tears as she sank to her knees, exhausted. “Just leave us be.”

Without thought to his own welfare, he closed the distance between them and took her arm, helping her gently to her feet. Too fatigued to resist, she allowed him to lead her to the base of a large tree where he gently lowered her a sitting position in the shade. Without a word, he returned to where Cochise waited and retrieved his canteen. Kneeling beside her, he offered her a drink of the cool water.

“No,” she shook her head, recoiling from the flask as though thinking it contained poison rather than life-giving water. “You’ll get sick. I have water in the wagon.”

He nodded in understanding and went to find it. When he returned, she took a long drink before closing her eyes and leaning back against the tree. “I don’t even know your name,” she murmured sadly.

“Joe Cartwright,” he answered softly, offering a slight smile.

She opened her eyes to look at him, taking in the compassionate expression and reassuring smile. “Miriam,” she finally replied. “Miriam Biggens.”

“Well, Mrs. Biggens,” Joe nodded. “You rest here for a while and I’ll prepare a …” He couldn’t bring himself to use the word ‘grave’. “I’ll see to your husband,” he concluded instead.

Without waiting for a response, he went back to the wagon and untied the shovel lashed to one side. Taking a cursive glance at their surroundings, he quickly chose a shady spot between two trees and began to dig.

Once he’d prepared the hole, he returned to the wagon for the body. Miriam joined him at that point and followed him to the spot he’d prepared. As he began filling in the grave, a small sob escaped her lips. After that, there was no sound save the soft scraping of shovel against earth.

He took off his hat and stood quietly while she said a few words at the fresh grave. Despite the sympathy he felt for her, he couldn’t help admiring her strength. When she was through, she turned to him. “Thank you,” she offered in a quiet voice.

He merely nodded and replaced his hat on his head before glancing up at the sky. “It’s going to be dark soon,” he announced. “We’d better make camp nearby and get a fresh start in the morning.”

“I won’t be going anywhere, Mr. Cartwright,” she replied, turning her gaze once again on the grave of her husband. “I vowed once to remain by his side forever. I see no point in breaking that promise now.”

“But you can’t…” he began, a slight frown etching his brow.

“It’s all right,” she assured him with a small smile. “I guess this is the way it was meant to be.”

He swallowed as he gleaned the meaning of her words. “The fever,” he stated simply. With two strides he was at her side, tentatively touching her forehead. She was burning up, likely had been since he’d first come upon them. How she managed to remain on her feet was beyond him. As though in response to his thoughts, she began to sway as her legs gave way beneath her. Effortlessly, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to a shaded spot where he lowered her to the ground. “Look, we can still make it to a doctor….”

“We both know it’s too late,” she cut him off gently, closing her eyes against the pain throbbing in her head. “I’ve seen the course the fever takes. I know I don’t have much time.”

He desperately tried to think of another course of action. “You can’t just give up,” he breathed.

She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “I have no choice,” she replied calmly. “I haven’t the strength to make it to the next town, even if I wanted to.” She closed her eyes again. “Besides, all I’ve ever lived for is right here.”

He glanced at the grave of her husband and then at the disabled wagon and its meagre supplies. Turning back to face her, he tried another approach. “I’ll build a fire,” he suggested gently. “You’ll need something to eat.”

When she didn’t respond, he realized she’d lost consciousness, either from sheer exhaustion or from the effects of the fever ravaging her body. After making sure she was still breathing, he set out to take care of the tasks that needed to be done.

He unhitched her horses from the wagon and led them, along with Cochise, to a nearby tree where he tied them securely. Then, scanning the area, he decided on a small clearing in which to build a fire. After collecting some wood, he sparked a small flame and nurtured it to a respectable size before heading to the wagon to search for whatever food he could find. Finding only a small pot of broth and some beans, he set them to warm by the fire before retrieving one of the bedrolls and spreading it out nearby.

Once things were ready, he returned to where she still slept and gently lifted her into his arms. She moaned slightly in response to the movement. “It’s all right,” he assured her in a quiet whisper. “You’ll be more comfortable by the fire.”

Her sleep grew increasingly fitful and he did all he could under the circumstances. Using the water from the wagon, he wet a cloth and bathed her forehead gently, trying to offer even a small degree of comfort.

She woke up at one point, struggling to sit up while her eyes darted wildly around her. “Wade?” she called frantically.

“Take it easy, Mrs. Biggens,” Joe soothed, placing a hand on her shoulder and forcing her to lie back.

‘Who are you?” she demanded. “Where’s my husband?”

“I’m Joe Cartwright, remember?” he prodded gently, evading the second question for the time being.

She frowned in concentration for a moment before closing her eyes against the memories. “Wade,” she whispered forlornly.

He knew there was no reason to say more. “Do you think you could take some broth?” he asked gently.

She managed a small nod after a moment and he lifted her head, bringing the small bowl to her lips and allowing her to take a few small sips before lowering her head to the blanket once again.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” she managed in a weak voice.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her with a small smile. “Once you’re well, we’ll make that trip to Carson City.”

She kept her eyes closed, unwilling to see the doubt in his eyes, but knowing that she wasn’t going to get well. “Promise me something, Mr. Cartwright,” she murmured.

“Anything,” he replied without hesitation. “As long as you promise to call me Joe.”

“Take the horses, Joe,” she continued. “Once I’m gone, take the horses with you. They’re good, strong animals. I don’t want them to die out here.”

He swallowed hard at the words. “I’ll take care of them until you’re on your feet,” he promised.

Once again, she ignored the inference that she was going to recover. “Thank you,” she offered, her face twisted with sudden pain. “You’ve already done so much. I have no right to ask…”

“You can ask me anything,” he informed her compassionately, knowing that the illness was getting worse, not better.

“Bury me beside my husband,” she asked quietly.

She lost consciousness again before he could answer. Dipping the cloth into the bowl of water by her side, he gently replaced it on her forehead, touching her fevered cheek gingerly with one finger. “I promise,” he whispered around the lump in his throat.

He didn’t sleep at all. He sat by her side, bathing her forehead and whispering soft words of encouragement whenever she’d awake in a state of disorientation. He felt so useless. She was dying and there was nothing he could do. He could only imagine how helpless she had felt watching the man she loved suffer the same fate and knowing, as he did, that there was no hope for recovery.

As dawn’s first light crept in to chase away the shadows of night, Joe went to tend to the horses. When he returned, he found her awake, her eyes following him silently.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, kneeling beside her and touching her forehead with one hand. The skin still felt dangerously warm, but her words were what caused him the most dismay.

“It’s time,” she whispered. “You’re a good man, Joe Cartwright,” she added, trying to force a smile. She paused, swallowing hard and struggling to finish her thoughts. “I only pray that your compassion has not cost you dearly.”

“Shhhh,” he soothed, taking her hand in his. “Don’t worry about me, just rest.”

After a feeble grasp, her hand went limp and he frowned, studying her face for any sign that it meant something other than what he suspected. As his fears were realized, he released her hand and hung his head in a silent prayer for her soul.

Standing at the foot of the most recent grave, he realized there was little he could say. He barely knew the woman he’d just buried. Glancing at the adjacent mound of earth, he directed his words at her husband. “She never left your side,” he pointed out quietly. “Not for a second.” Pausing, he turned back to Miriam’s grave. “I wish I could have done more for you, Ma’am,” he offered. “I didn’t get a chance to ask about any relatives. I guess I’ll take the horses and give them to someone who could use them.” Knowing there was nothing else he could say, he concluded, “I hope you both find peace.”

As he continued on his way, leading the two extra horses behind him, he thought about the information she’d given him. It had been two weeks since they’d been exposed to the unknown fever before the first symptoms had surfaced. Now that he’d also been exposed, was that all the time he had before the same fate befell him? As his mind continued to sort through the myriad of emotions, he finally came to one inevitable conclusion – one that threatened to break his heart.

It was late the following day when he finally made it to the eastern boundary of the Ponderosa. Blinking back tears, he dismounted and stood looking out over the land that had been such a big part of his life. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to where Cochise waited and extracted a pencil and paper from his saddle bag. He sat down, carefully trying to put his thoughts into words. When he’d finished the note to his satisfaction, he rolled it up and tied it to a leather strap on his saddle.

“I’m counting on you, old friend,” he smiled sadly, nuzzling the horse’s main. Cochise let out a low whicker as though in understanding. “Get this note to Pa, understand? He needs to know…” He had to choke back a sob before continuing. “He needs to know why I can’t come home.” Cochise nuzzled his hand, giving the impression that he not only understood, but sympathized with his situation. “You know the way,” he whispered, petting the horse’s neck affectionately. “Go on.”

He watched through tear-filled eyes as his longtime friend cantered off without him, his pace quickening to a trot as though realizing the importance of his mission. Joe waited until he was out of sight before turning back to the horses he’d acquired from the Biggens’. Swinging himself onto the back of one, he took one last look at the Ponderosa before turning away and heading north.

********

“That’s Little Joe,” Ben exclaimed in grateful relief as the sound of hoofbeats reached his ears. He closed the book he’d been trying to read and hurried to the door. Hoss and Adam also abandoned the checkerboard they’d been gazing at for the last hour. Joe had been due home the day before and all three of them had been more than a little worried. When they reached the yard, they were both dismayed and confused to see Cochise waiting patiently for them, his saddle ominously empty.

“Joe’s horse,” Ben breathed, taking the reins in his hand and stroking the animal’s neck distractedly.

“Something’s wrong, Pa,” Hoss frowned, noticing the way the horse was fidgeting.

Adam, too, had noticed the strange behaviour and came forward to examine the animal more closely. “Pa,” he said, calling attention to the note as he untied it from the saddle. Opening it, he read the first few lines before handing it to his father. Ben frowned at his eldest son in confusion for a brief second before turning his attention to the piece of paper and reading aloud.

Dear Pa, Adam and Hoss
I know I should have been home by now and you’re probably wondering what happened. I’m sorry I can’t be there to explain in person, but I just can’t take that chance. There’s Fever over in Red Rock Falls. I don’t know what kind exactly, but I met up with two people on the road who’d been exposed. One was already dead and the other died the next morning. I hope you understand why I just can’t come home now, as much as I want to. You’ve always been there for me… all of you. Now I guess it’s my turn to do what’s best for you. I know you probably won’t agree with my decision, but I hope you understand that I’m doing what I have to do. I’ll be home as soon as I’m sure it’s safe. Until then, my love to you all.
Your son and brother,
Little Joe

“Little Joe,” Ben repeated in disbelief after he’d finished reading the note. “He’s never signed a note like that in his life.”

“What do we do, Pa?” Hoss asked, concern etched into his features. “He’s out there somewhere.”

“And if he does get this fever, whatever it is,” Adam added, “he’s going to need medical attention.”

“Yes,” Ben agreed thoughtfully. “But we can’t start looking for him tonight. First thing tomorrow morning, I’m going to Carson City. Maybe someone there will know exactly what’s going on in Red Rock Falls.”

“It ain’t gonna be easy findin’ him, Pa,” Hoss pointed out quietly. “Not if he don’t want to be found.”

“We’ll find him, son,” Ben declared firmly. “As God is my witness, we will find him.”

********

Joe stopped a safe distance from the old, rundown shack. “Toby!” he called. “It’s Joe Cartwright!”

In a moment, a wiry old man opened the door and peered out into the moonlight. “Joe Cartwright?” he asked in a strong voice that sounded strange coming from such a small man. “Well, come on in here, boy! Don’t be skulking around in the shadows.”

“I can’t,” Joe called. “I’ve been exposed to Fever.”

“Fever?” Toby repeated. “In these parts?”

“Red Rock Falls,” Joe clarified. “I don’t know what kind, exactly, but it’s killed two people that I know of, probably more. I need you to do me a favour, Toby.”

“You can count on ol’ Toby, son,” the man assured him. “What do you need?”

Joe untied the second horse from the one he’d been riding and tied it to a low hanging branch. “I’ve got two horses here,” he explained, speaking loudly to be heard over the distance separating them. “I’m leaving one here for you, and I’m taking the other up to the old Murphy place.”

“That place has bin empty for years,” Toby squawked in disbelief.

“I know, but I need a place to stay until I’m sure it’s safe,” Joe explained patiently. “I’m going to need some supplies, Toby. I’ve got only one can of beans here.”

“I ain’t got much here at the moment,” Toby apologized, “but you’re welcome to it. I can pick up more tomorrow.”

“I’ll leave some money here with the horse,” Joe called, taking out his wallet. “If you’d pick up some coffee, bread, cheese, I’d appreciate it. Oh, and some eggs. I like my eggs in the morning.”

“Sure thing, Joe,” the old man nodded.

“But don’t come right to the house,” Joe warned. “Leave it at that old pine stump and I’ll pick it up.”

“Old pine stump,” Toby nodded. “You can count on me Joe. You hold on tight there for a minute. I’ve got some blankets and a lantern, maybe even a bit of coffee to tide you over.”

Joe watched him disappear back into the house only to return a moment later with his arms full. As he stepped off the small porch, Joe called out another warning. “Just leave it there on the ground. I’ll get it as soon as you’re inside.”

Toby did as instructed before returning to his spot on the verandah. “This fever that bad?” he asked grimly.

“I wish I knew for sure,” Joe answered. “There just isn’t any point in taking chances.”

“You plannin’ on headin’ up to the Murphy place tonight?” Toby asked.

“Unless you’re inviting me in for the night,” Joe joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Anything else I can do for you, son?” the old man asked kindly.

Joe was silent for a moment. “If I’m going to get it, I’ll know in a couple of weeks.” He paused briefly before continuing. “If I’m not back in three weeks, I’d be obliged if you’d ride out to the Ponderosa and tell my family where I am.”

“They don’t know?” Toby asked incredulously.

“Do you think Pa would let me go off if he knew?” Joe chuckled softly as memories of his father’s stubbornness came to mind. “He’d want me at home, even if it ended up killing him along with Adam and Hoss. I just can’t do it, Toby.”

Toby nodded silently before answering. “I understand, Little Joe,” he finally replied.

“See you in a couple of weeks,” Joe forced a smile of encouragement.

“I’ll bring those supplies by in the morning,” Toby promised. “I’ll tend to that horse once you’re gone.”

Joe nodded and waited for the old man to go back into the house before venturing forward to gather the provisions Toby had left. Once he’d secured them to the horse, he mounted and rode off into the darkness.

It was almost midnight by the time he reached the old Murphy place. He was hungry, but too tired to think about fixing anything to eat. All he wanted was to sleep. He tied the horse at the side of the house that afforded the most shelter and wearily dragged the supplies to the front door. As he made his way inside, his senses were briefly disoriented. Instead of the darkness he’d been expecting, there was a dim light burning. The smell of whiskey and cigar smoke sent a warning to his weary brain, but it was received too late. He barely had time to register its meaning before he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He was already falling to the floor before he actually heard the shot. After that, there was only darkness.

When he awoke, he was sitting in a corner of the room, his hands tied behind him, his shoulder throbbing painfully.

“Who are you?” he demanded of the two men staring at him.

“Now if you was actually a part of that posse, you’d know who we was,” one of the men stated grimly. “The question is, who are you?”

“Joe Cartwright,” he answered flatly. “And you don’t know what a big mistake you just made, Mister.”

“Cartwright,” the second man mused thoughtfully. “One of them Ponderosa Cartwrights?”

“That’s right,” Joe replied without hesitation.

“I hear them Cartwrights have lots of money, Jerry,” the second man grinned. “Maybe this ain’t gonna be a problem after all.”

“And just how do you plan on gettin’ it, Sal?” Jerry asked. “You figurin’ on ridin’ down to the Ponderosa and just askin’ for a trade? Tellin’ them you shot the kid? You’d be deader th’n a bee in a blizzard before you ever got off that land.”

“Still, it might come in handy if that posse catches up with us,” Sal observed.

Joe heard the second reference to the posse and took a quick glance around. Once he spotted the bags in the corner of the room, a wry smile spread across his face. “Bank robbers,” he mused, grimacing against the pain radiating down his arm. “I should have known.”

“You were lucky,” Jerry stated, nodding at the wound. “Went clean through. I even patched it up for ya.”

“I suppose you think I should be grateful,” Joe hissed.

“You’re alive, ain’t ya?” Jerry retorted with a wry smile. “So what about that posse, boy?” he prodded. “You see ‘em?”

Joe wondered whether it would be in his best interest to lie but finally decided on the truth. “No, I didn’t see them,” he replied. “I didn’t come up from Beaver Flats, I came from Carson City way.”

“That ain’t good news, Jerry,” Sal frowned. “That means they haven’t gone past this place yet.”

“They will,” Jerry nodded thoughtfully. “That is, as long as Mr. Cartwright here doesn’t call any attention to our little hiding spot.”

Joe thought about Toby and what might happen if they were to mistake him for a member of the posse. “I’ve got a friend coming to bring supplies tomorrow morning,” he informed them. “I told him I didn’t want him up here so he’s going to leave the stuff by the old pine stump.”

“Well, well,” Jerry grinned. “That sounds mighty convenient indeed. We just might be here a spell.”

“I thought the plan was to move out tomorrow,” Sal argued gruffly. “We didn’t steal all that money to hang around this shack.”

“We ain’t goin’ nowhere until I know that posse has passed us by,” Jerry pointed out firmly.

Sal seemed to accept the new plan grudgingly. It was evident that Jerry called the shots. “What about him?” he asked, nodding in Joe’s direction.

“I guess he’ll just have to wait here with us a spell,” Jerry replied. “If he dies, he dies. If he don’t, we’ll have to decide whether he can be any use to us.”

Joe’s lips thinned angrily while they discussed his life in such a trivial manner. He considered warning them about the fever, but then realized they might just kill him right off. It was better to wait and see if a more survivable opportunity presented itself.

“I haven’t eaten,” he pointed out quietly. “Those beans smell mighty good.”

Jerry looked at their prisoner for a moment. “Go ahead and get him somethin’,” he instructed his partner. “It ain’t gonna hurt to let him eat.”

Sal didn’t seem to like the idea, but finally complied. When he brought the plate over, Joe simply looked at him expectantly.

“Guess you’ll just have to lap it up like a dog,” Sal sneered.

“Untie him,” Jerry instructed, drawing his gun and levelling it at Joe. “He ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Joe waited while Sal untied his hands and handed him the plate. His shoulder throbbed miserably and sent an agonizing pain down his arm when he tried to move it. Balancing the plate on his knee, he managed to eat with one hand, keeping his injured arm relatively still.

“So what brings a Cartwright out to these parts in the middle of the night?” Jerry asked, casually waving the gun to indicate their surroundings.

Joe thought for a moment. “I wanted some privacy for a couple of weeks,” he admitted truthfully. “No one knows I’m here except my friend bringing the supplies. He doesn’t expect to see me for another three weeks.”

“You rich folks sure have some strange ideas,” Jerry grinned. “That big ol’ ranch of yours and you prefer to spend time in this shack.”

“I guess everyone needs to get away from things from time to time,” Joe offered in way of an explanation. “Not that strange really.” As the conversation dissolved into silence, he allowed his mind to ponder how he was going to get himself out of his current situation. His family had no idea where he was, likely wouldn’t until Toby told them in another three weeks. He was sure that his captors would be gone by then and he was just as certain that they weren’t going to leave him alive when they left. Even if he did have only a couple of weeks to live, he wanted to live every moment of them. He didn’t plan on letting a couple of criminals steal even a second of the time he had remaining.

“How long have the two of you been holed up here?” he asked caustically.

“Bin close to three days now,” Jerry replied. “I’d have thought that posse would be long gone by now.”

“I would have seen them,” Joe pointed out grimly. As much as he wanted to be free of their company, he realized he couldn’t, in good conscience, risk letting them contaminate others now that they’d come in contact with him and the deadly virus he likely carried. “Might be days before they get up this way.”

“Whaddaya think about that, Jerry?” Sal asked skeptically.

“Could be,” Jerry allowed cautiously. “’Specially if they don’t know which way we went.”

“I’m expecting supplies for three weeks,” Joe informed them. “By that time, they should be long gone.”

“He’s lyin’, Jerry,” Sal insisted, eyes narrowed. “That posse’s prob’ly on its way up here right now. He only wants us to wait around so’s we’ll get caught.”

“Chances are, they’re going to catch you eventually,” Joe smiled wryly. “Then what? There can’t be any more than a few hundred dollars in those bags. Beaver Flats isn’t exactly one of the bigger banks in the area.” He paused a moment, allowing the words to sink in. “Is that kind of money really worth dying for?”

“Maybe not,” Jerry drawled, unfazed. “But to us is sure is worth livin’ for.”

“He’s right, Jerry,” Sal grinned evilly. “But the kind of money we could get for him would prett’near set us up for life. I think we should take him with us. We can wire his ol’ man from Carson City and make a deal.”

Joe glanced furtively at the other man, hoping that he’d dismiss the idea. He toyed with the idea of refusing to go with them, but thought it would only hasten their decision to kill him. Instead, he remained silent, biding his time.

“We’ll have to give that some thought,” Jerry mused. “It don’t matter one way or ‘nother tonight.”

Sal seemed to appreciate the fact that he was at least considering the idea. “Well, then,” he announced. “I’m gonna get some shut eye.” He took the plate from Joe and roughly pulled his arms behind him again, tying his wrists tight. Though the pain was excruciating, Joe bit his lip and stifled the urge to cry out.

“Go on and get some sleep,” Jerry instructed his partner. “He ain’t gonna give us no trouble.” He watched as Sal made his way to the only cot in the shack and stretched out. In a moment, he could be heard snoring loudly.

********

Ben, Adam and Hoss arrived in Carson City a little before noon. “I’m going to ask the sheriff about Red Rock Falls,” Ben announced. “You boys ask around and see if anyone’s seen Little Joe.”

“Right, Pa,” Hoss nodded.

“We’ll meet up in front of the saloon,” Adam suggested.

As they split up, each harboured hopes that they’d be able to learn something that would help them locate their son and brother.

“Anything?” Adam asked as they met up again a while later.

“Red Rock Falls has been quarantined,” Ben stated grimly. “They don’t know exactly what’s causing it yet, but twenty or so are already dead and another dozen are close to it.” He sighed wearily. “Any word on Joe?”

“Nobody’s seen him, Pa,” Adam replied. “He obviously didn’t come this way home.”

“There’s not much ‘tween here and Red Rock Falls,” Hoss pointed out. “Just a lot of hard country.”

Ben was deep in thought. “He knew Cochise would make it to the house,” he mused. “He must have been in familiar territory when Joe let him loose.”

“And he was only a little over a day overdue when we got the note,” Adam surmised. “He can’t be too far away, especially if he’s on foot.”

“Less’n he was ahead of schedule when he wrote that note,” Hoss reminded them.

“We’ll pick up some supplies and head east toward Red Rock,” Ben decided. “Maybe we’ll find someone who’s seen him.”

“Good day, Charlie,” Ben greeted the man behind the counter. “We’re going to need a few things for the road.”

“Sure thing, Ben,” Charlie nodded. “I hear you’re looking for Little Joe.”

“Yeah,” Ben sighed, taking off his hat and fidgeting with the brim for a moment before placing it back on his head. “He met up with some people from Red Rock Falls.”

“Nasty business goin’ on over there,” Charlie shook his head sadly. “I hear tell half the town is already gone.”

Hoss and Adam exchanged glances at the information. “We don’t think Joe was actually there,” Adam pointed out. “But he’s apparently been in contact with two people who had the fever.”

“Doc Simpson’s gone over to see what he can do,” Charlie added, still shaking his head.

Ben began ordering what they’d need and Charlie jotted it down on a pad of paper. Once he began gathering the provisions, he chuckled softly. “Filled an order almost just like this one this morning,” he mused amiably. “Toby Tucker of all folks.”

“Toby Tucker?” Ben repeated. “I haven’t seen him in months. How is he?”

“Seemed a bit troubled,” Charlie admitted, “but other than that, he was looking fit as a fiddle.”

“Troubled?” Ben frowned. “I hope nothing’s wrong.”

“Don’t know what could be wrong with ol’ Toby,” Charlie dismissed the notion. “Lives out there by himself, just the way he likes it, comes to town, gets supplies and does whatever business he needs to.”

“Brought in a load of tables did he?” Ben asked. He knew Toby crafted some of the finest side tables in the area, more for his own pleasure, but still enough to afford him the lifestyle he enjoyed.

“No tables today,” Charlie shook his head. “Came straight to the store here with cold, hard cash. I know, because I saw him ride in.”

“Cash?” Ben frowned. Toby never kept cash out at the house. As long as he’d known him, he’d always brought his wares to town, sold them, then used the money to buy what supplies he needed before depositing the rest in the bank. “That’s odd.”

“That ain’t all,” Charlie added. “He bought a bunch of stuff he don’t usually get. Even eggs. I never knew Toby to eat eggs.”

“No,” Ben agreed thoughtfully. “Toby never did eat eggs.”

Hoss chuckled as he thought about the old man. “Always said he weren’t eatin’ nothing that came out of that end of a critter,” he reminisced.

“Anything else, Ben?” Charlie asked as he finished packing up the order.

“No, Charlie,” Ben shook his head slightly. “That should do it.”

He paid the storekeeper and they returned to the horses. “Toby Tucker’s place is only a few hours from here,” Ben mused. “I think maybe we’d best pay him a little visit.”

“You think he’ll know something about Joe?” Adam asked.

“I don’t know,” Ben admitted with a sigh. “But Toby didn’t buy those eggs for himself, you can bet on that.”

“Then let’s not stand here yammerin’,” Hoss suggested as he mounted Chub.

The others followed suit and soon they were headed north out of town.

********

Joe hadn’t expected to get much rest in the uncomfortable position, but as the night wore on, exhaustion, compounded by the amount of blood he’d lost, caused him to drift into a fitful state of unconsciousness. By the time he awoke fully, the sun had been up for hours. As he tried to move, he found that the pain in his arm had radiated to his upper back and neck. His head throbbed and his throat felt like it was lined with cotton.

“I could use some of that coffee,” he managed in a weak voice.

Jerry drew his gun once again and gestured to the other man. Sal, obviously not liking the idea, but unwilling to argue, roughly untied Joe’s hands and thrust a cup into his good hand without saying a word.

“When’s them supplies s’posed to be here?” Jerry asked, gazing out the window while keeping the gun trained on his prisoner.

“This morning,” Joe answered.

Jerry looked at the sun high overhead. “Go on and check,” he told Sal, nodding toward the door.

Sal glanced at Joe first, as though trying to determine whether or not he was telling the truth before making his way toward the door.

Ten minutes later, he was back, a large box of foodstuffs in his arms. “Jest like he said!” he exclaimed, obviously surprised. “Right there by that old pine stump.” He put the box on the table and began rummaging through it. “There’s canned beef, beans, sugar, coffee, cheese, eggs.”

“You rich folks eat pretty good, huh?” Jerry sneered at Joe. “Some folks wouldn’t see this much food in a month of Sundays.”

“Help yourself,” Joe murmured cynically.

“I think we’ll just do that, little man,” Jerry grinned, seemingly glad for the snide remark. “Sal, why don’t you cook us up some of them eggs. Been a long while since I had eggs.”

Sal hurried to comply, his own mouth watering for something other than beans and bacon. When he’d finished, he spooned eggs onto three plates and set two of them on the table. “Guess it’s only right you should get some of your own grub,” Sal sneered at Joe as he handed him a plate with a small portion of food on it.

Joe watched, his pulse quickening as Jerry took a seat at the table. His heart sank as he noticed that the man easily managed to maintain his hold on the gun while eating with his other hand. Glancing at Sal, he realized that the food wasn’t as much of a distraction as he’d hoped. Still tensed for any opportunity, he began to eat what little they’d offered.

When he was finished, Sal was back to tie his hands again.

“Is that necessary?” Joe demanded in as strong a voice as he could muster. “I doubt I’m much of a threat in this condition.”

“Shut up,” Sal warned, pushing him sideways to bind his wrists. As he did, he frowned. “He’s burnin’ up, Jerry,” he stated. “You sure that bullet went through?”

“It’s through,” Jerry confirmed, coming to touch Joe’s head. “But you’re right, he’s hotter th’n a cookstove.”

“What’s the matter?” Joe replied flippantly. “Afraid I’ll die and add murder to your charges?”

“Get some water,” Jerry instructed, ignoring the comment.

As always, Sal did as he was told, bringing a cup of water and holding it to Joe’s lips.

“He don’t look good, Jerry,” he observed while Joe drank what he could. “Maybe we should just finish him off. No sense in us having to doctor him.”

“It’s bad ‘nuff you ambushed him in the first place,” Jerry growled. “I ain’t about to shoot him now that he’s unarmed and sickly.”

“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Joe informed them. “None of us are getting out of here alive. Not far, at any rate.”

“So you do know where that posse’s at,” Jerry muttered angrily. “I outta let Sal shoot you right now, Cartwright.”

“No posse,” Joe breathed, “Fever.”

“Fever?” Sal repeated, his tough demeanour replaced by a hint of fear and surprise. “What’s he talkin’ ‘bout, Jerry?”

“What fever?” Jerry demanded, frowning.

“Red Rock Falls,” Joe managed. “I was exposed to it. People are already dead. That’s why I came up here, so I couldn’t give it to anyone else.”

Jerry was silent for a moment. “You’re lyin’,” he accused.

“No,” Joe muttered. “And now you’re both going to get it.” He managed a slight smile. “All that money and you won’t live long enough to spend a dime.”

“He’s lyin’,” Sal exclaimed, hoping his belief in the words would make them true.

Jerry considered the possibility. “Maybe,” he murmured. “But there’s no way of knowin’ for sure.”

“Well if he’s got the fever, I ain’t aimin’ to stick around and die here,” Sal stated in frustration. “I’m taking’ my share and gittin’ out of here.”

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Jerry corrected, drawing his gun. “We’re in this together, fever or no fever. Chances are, it’s that hole you put in him.”

“So what are we gonna do?” Sal demanded angrily. “Stick around and see if he’s tellin’ the truth? He’s only bin here one night. If we leave now, we prob’ly won’t even get it.”

The information he’d received in the last few minutes was weighing heavily on Jerry’s ability to make decisions. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and uncertainty. “Get the horses ready,” he finally grumbled in Sal’s direction.

Sal didn’t waste any time hurrying out of the cabin. Once he was gone, Jerry reached down and untied Joe’s hands. “I ain’t gonna shoot ya, Cartwright, but I can’t take ya with us either, not if what you said is true. We’ll take your gun and your horse and if you’re lyin’ you’ll have to walk out of here. If you’re not, I don’t suppose you’ll live long enough to miss either of them.”

Joe was finding it increasingly difficult to focus. He knew he shouldn’t let them leave, not if it meant spreading the illness that plagued him, but he was just as certain that there wasn’t much he could do in his current situation, especially without his gun.

“Coffee,” he murmured weakly. It was the only weapon he’d be able to get his hands on. Maybe, if he could hurl some of the scalding liquid into the man’s face, he’d be able to grab his gun. It was a lame plan at best, but it was better than doing nothing.

“Even a condemned man gets a last meal, I reckon,” Jerry growled in frustration as he moved toward the stove. As he was pouring the coffee, they heard the sound of shouting followed by a gunshot.

Jerry was at the window in an instant, gun drawn, coffee forgotten. “Damn,” he muttered as he took in the scene before him.

“Don’t tell me that posse caught up to you despite all your careful plans,” Joe quipped sarcastically.

“Shut up, Cartwright,” he hissed, not taking his eyes from the window.

“Joseph!” a strong voice called.

Even through the throbbing in his head, Joe recognized the voice immediately. “Pa,” he whispered in both surprise and dismay. Mustering all his strength, he shouted as loud as he could. “Don’t come in here, Pa!”

“I told you to shut up!” Jerry yelled, turning the gun on Joe.

Joe didn’t need the incentive of the gun pointed in his face. He didn’t have enough strength left to call out another warning. “Don’t come in,” he whispered hoarsely as the room began to darken before his eyes. Even as he heard Jerry fire the first shot, he lost the struggle against unconsciousness.

********

He awoke disoriented, but without the throbbing in his temples. As his vision cleared, he was able to recognize his own room. In alarm, he sat bolt upright, the pain in his shoulder causing him to lay back again with a loud groan. “Pa?” he managed in a hoarse voice.

“Take it easy, son,” Ben advised in a soothing voice. “You’re going to be all right.”

“The fever, Pa,” Joe argued feebly. “You shouldn’t have brought me here. Not here.”

“You don’t have the fever,” Ben assured him gently. “Just an infection from that wound in your shoulder.”

“No,” Joe shook his head slightly. “Red Rock Falls.”

“Tainted water,” Ben informed him calmly. “Unfortunately, it was too late for most of the town by the time Doc Simpson was able to pinpoint the cause.”

“Water?” Joe repeated, his initial panic beginning to subside.

“Water,” Ben confirmed with a slight smile.

“Miriam,” Joe lamented quietly. “A doctor could have saved her.”

“One of the people you met on the road?” Ben asked, frowning slightly.

Joe nodded, closing his eyes. “I helped bury her husband, then I just sat there and watched her die, Pa. If I’d gotten her to a doctor…”

“It wouldn’t have helped, son,” Ben assured him. “Once it got to the fever stage, there was nothing the doctor could have done. He, himself, had to sit and watch many of those people die. All he could do was make them as comfortable as possible. I’m sure you did the same for Miriam.”

Joe thought about the words for a moment. “I did what I could, Pa. She refused to let me take her into Carson City. She thought she’d spread the disease.”

“She sounds like a brave, compassionate woman,” Ben smiled sadly.

After a moment’s silence, Ben continued. “I suppose your reasons for choosing not to come home were the same as hers.”

“I didn’t want you to have to see me die like that, Pa,” Joe answered in a quiet voice. “I didn’t even know this woman and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I just couldn’t put you through that, no more than I could bear the thought that you’d eventually suffer the same fate.”

“I understand,” Ben assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But I hope you know we would have welcomed you home with open arms, regardless. Whatever fate holds in store for us, I’d rather we face it together as a family than apart. If Hoss or Adam had been in the same situation, would you have wanted them to stay away? Perhaps die alone in some line shack?”

“No,” Joe admitted with a slight smile, though there were tears welling in his eyes. “I guess I didn’t think about it like that. I only knew I didn’t want to be the cause of …” His voice trailed off as he thought about what could have happened had the fever been contagious and he’d made different choices.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Ben smiled. “Though I would have made a different choice for you, I admire the fact that you did what you thought was right. It was a noble and unselfish gesture.”

Joe could only muster a half-smile as his father’s praise added to the lump in his throat.

“And don’t you ever do it again!” Ben added gruffly, trying to camouflage the sentimental moment.

Joe allowed his emotion to escape in a slight chuckle.

“In the end, though,” Ben continued, raising his eyebrows approvingly, “the choices you made led to the apprehension of a couple of ruthless bank robbers.”

“Jerry and Sal,” Joe stated grimly. “They robbed the bank in Beaver Falls.”

“And killed a deputy and another man while escaping,” Ben added, filling in the information he’d gleaned from the sheriff. “There will be a trial, but I expect they’ll hang.”

Joe digested the information before frowning in concentration. “How did you know I was at the Murphy place?” he asked. “Did Toby tell you?”

“Not without some persuading,” Ben replied. “We were looking for you when we heard that Toby had been in to get some supplies.”

“Toby gets supplies all the time,” Joe shrugged, grimacing at the pain the motion caused.

“But he doesn’t bring cash to town and he doesn’t buy eggs,” Ben pointed out, hiding a smile.

Joe realized the truth of those words and offered a sheepish smile. “Guess I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was,” he admitted.

“Or maybe your father is just a little smarter,” Ben replied, winking playfully.

The door opened and Adam and Hoss entered.

“Well, look who’s awake,” Adam mused with a slight smile. “Two weeks vacation and you still found a way to come home and sleep for three days straight.”

“How ya feelin’, Joe?” Hoss asked, grinning in obvious relief.

“I’ll be up and around in no time,” Joe smiled back.

“That’s good,” Hoss nodded. “Yessir that’s real good. Cuz as soon as you are, I’m gonna give you the whoopin’ of your life, little brother. What’s the big idea runnin’ off like that? You had us plumb worried to death.”

“I just thought…” Joe swallowed hard, taking in his brother’s scowl. He knew the anger was feigned for the most part, but he also knew there was a grain of truth to it.

“He just thought he’d leave us here to do all his work,” Adam interjected. “While he lazed around that ol’ line shack with his two new buddies.”

Joe looked at his father for assistance. “Oh no,” Ben laughed, raising one hand while he got to his feet and headed for the door. “You made your bed, Joe. You’re going to have to deal with the consequences of this one.”

He left the room and stood outside the door for a moment, listening to the voices of his three sons as Joe tried in vain to explain over the protests of his two older brothers. He couldn’t suppress a smile as he realized that Adam and Hoss were merely telling him the same things he, himself, already had, though obviously in different ways. Through the teasing and playful threats, the message would be just as clear. They were a family and there was nothing that they couldn’t face – together.

The End.

Disclaimer: No actual fevers were used in the writing of this story. Any resemblance to any persons, bank robbers, corpses or horses, living or dead is purely coincidental. And yes, you guessed it, Miriam’s dress was indeed blue.

Update: Toby Tucker still lives in the old house East of the Ponderosa (though he now makes computer desks instead of side tables). Sal was convicted and hanged for killing the two men in Beaver Falls. Jerry got a prison term, since he hadn’t actually killed anyone. Ben was grateful to Jerry for not killing Joe and offered to help him get a fresh start once he was released from prison. Jerry did his time and was a model prisoner. Upon regaining his freedom, he took Ben up on his generous offer. The two went into business together and rumour has it they’re now making a fortune in ice cream (what’s up with that?)