Summary:  This is not intended to be a really interesting story LOL. More of a scene really. But I did manage to get all the first season ep titles in… and in order! 😉 Yes, at this particular moment, I had WAY too much time on my hands….
Rating:  G
Words:  2,775

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The Brandsters have included this story by 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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Season One

Hoss had been looking for his younger brother for hours and when he finally found him, he couldn’t believe his eyes. It wasn’t every day he saw Little Joe picking flowers.

“What’re ya doin’ little brother?” Hoss grinned, thinking of how he might be able to use this newfound information to his advantage.

“Just picking a Rose for Lotta,” Joe answered nonchalantly.

It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected, and Hoss’ grin faded slightly. “Lotta Hawkins? You seein’ her tonight, are ya?”

Joe straightened and looked his brother in the eye. “Of course I’m not seeing her. She’s dead.”

The grin was now a solid frown. “Dead? What happened?”

Joe shrugged as he headed for his horse. “I just found out when I was in town. Word has it she froze to Death on Sun Mountain.”

“In the middle of summer?” Hoss asked, his face scrunched into a disbelieving scowl. “That’s just plumb crazy.”

“Not according to Doc Baines,” Joe replied, swinging himself into the saddle. “He explained it. At night, if the temperature dips low enough you can get hypo…”

“Dermic?” Hoss suggested, trying to be helpful.

“No,” Joe shook his head. “hypo…”

“Chondria?”

Joe shook his head in slight exasperation. “I can’t remember, but it’s not good, I can tell you that.”

“Doc Baines,” Hoss repeated thoughtfully. “Ain’t he one of The Newcomers to Virginia City?”

“Yeah,” Joe answered. “He came west around the time of The Paiute War.”

“How’s he getting’ along?” Hoss asked.

“Not bad, I guess,” Joe shrugged. “He was trying to enter all the town’s patients in his ledger when I left.”

“Well, I hope he doesn’t forget to Enter Mark Twain,” Hoss mused, “Just in case he ever comes back this way.”

“Yeah, I filled him in on some of the town history while I was there,” Joe replied. “I filled him in on Mark Twain and the Julia Bulette Story.”

“Did you mention the Saga of Annie O’Toole?” Hoss asked with a grin. “She sure had Adam goin’ didn’t she?”

“She did at that,” Joe chuckled. “That is, until he got distracted with The Philip Deideshiemer Story. You know our big brother. Safety before all else.”

“That’s for sure,” Hoss grinned. “Sometimes I think he’s just a little too responsible for his own good.”

They began riding east and Hoss took the opportunity to ask more questions about the new doctor.

“What else did you tell him?” he asked.

“Well, he wanted to know how Virginia City got its name, so I pretty well had to tell him about Mr. Henry P. Comstock.”

“Now that there is a character,” Hoss laughed.

“He also wanted a little information on our medical history,” Joe informed him. “He had the records from that time the doc had to patch me up after The Magnificent Adah was here.”

“I’d rather not think about that,” Hoss murmured, scrunching up his face for added effect. “Where we headed anyway?”

“Down to The Truckee Strip,” Joe answered. “Lotta’s buried near there. I’m gonna put this rose on her grave.”

Hoss brought his mount to a sudden halt and put a hand on Joe’s arm. “What’s that?” he asked, nodding in the direction of a stand of oaks.

Joe squinted into the distance. “Must be that posse the sheriff organized to find those two bank robbers.”

“You mean The Hanging Posse,” Hoss stated grimly. “They don’t have no intentions of bringing those men in alive.”

“We’d better get down there,” Joe agreed as he prodded Cochise into a full gallop. In a desperate attempt to see justice done, they hurried toward the men who were swinging a rope over one of the sturdy branches.

“That’s far enough,” Joe informed them flatly as they reached the group of men. “These men are going to stand trial.”

“This is none of your concern, Cartwright,” one of the men answered in an acid tone. “I had twenty bucks in that bank.”

“Twenty bucks or twenty cents, we ain’t gonna let you turn this into The Vendetta you’re tryin’ for,” Hoss informed them, his gun drawn. “Take those men back for trial, or we’ll do it for ya.”

“Maybe he’s right, men,” one of the men spoke up nervously. “The Sisters of that last guy we hanged are still out huntin’ for us. I bin sleepin with one eye open ever since then.”

“They come huntin for me and it’ll be The Last Hunt they ever set out on,” the apparent leader of the gang growled. “Ain’t no women gonna stop me from doin’ what I think is right.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Joe stated grimly, his words directed at the man who’d just spoke.

“Name’s Jenkins,” the man grinned evilly. “But folks where I come from call me El Tore Grande.”

“Well, El,” Joe smirked. “I don’t much care what they call you where you come from. You hang these men and they’ll call you a murderer where I come from.”

“Cartwrights, huh?” the man sneered. “I’ve heard about you. You’re always stickin’ up for the underdog, taking in The Outcast, feeding the hungry. Why don’t you go find yerselves a good cause and leave us to our business.”

“We ain’t about to ride out of here without them there men,” Hoss replied. “So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll hand them over right quick.”

“And you stick together,” Jenkins snickered. “I heard that too.”

“Yeah, we stick together,” Joe replied righteously. “Haven’t you heard? A House Divided cannot stand.”

“Hey, that’s good, little brother,” Hoss grinned admirably, nudging Joe in the ribs. “I’m gonna remember that one.”

“Thanks,” Joe smiled. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“Do you mind?” Jenkins demanded incredulously. “We ain’t got all day here.”

Both Cartwrights wiped the smiles from their faces and turned to The Gunmen with sober expressions. “You’re right about that,” Hoss concurred. “You’ve got about five minutes to free those men or we’re gonna open up a big ol’ can o’ whoop-hiney in your direction.”

Jenkins’ confident expression wavered slightly. “Just a couple of Fear Merchants,” he grumbled. “Always bullyin’ folks into doin’ what you want ‘em to do, aren’t ya?”

“Four minutes,” Joe stated flatly.

Jenkins hesitated only a moment. “All right,” he finally hissed. “Have it your way. But these men are guilty I tell ya.”

“We’ll let a judge decide that,” Hoss nodded curtly. “Come on, Joe, we’ll drop them off at the sheriff’s office.”

While they rode with their prisoners in tow, Joe kept looking at one of the men. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he asked.

“I doubt it,” the man replied tersely.

Hoss was now looking at the man too. “I think you’re mistakin’ him for that guy that used to work for us.. Grant somethinorother.”

“You mean Grant LeBlanc?” Joe asked, studying the man more closely.

“No, LeBlanc was French,” Hoss shook his head. “I’m talkin’ bout The Spanish Grant.”

“Fernandez,” Joe exclaimed with a triumphant smile. “Grant Fernandez.”

“That’s right,” Hoss nodded. “He looks a little bit like him. Same set to his eyes and all.”

“My name’s Baldwin,” the man growled. “I don’t know nothing about no Fernandez or LeBlanc. I’m innocent, I tell ya. We both are.”

“I’m sure you are,” Joe replied in a patronizing tone. “And I’m sure the sheriff will let you go just as soon as you’re able to prove that.”

He allowed his words to trail off as Hoss put a hand on his arm. “Joe, you see that?” Hoss asked, frowning as he studied the ground before them.

“What?” Joe asked, trying to follow his brother’s line of sight.

“Right there,” Hoss replied, pointing. “Looks like a trail of Blood on the Land.”

“Yeah,” Joe mused as he saw what his brother was pointing at. “Fresh, too.”

“Didn’t the sheriff say one of them bank robbers was shot on his way out of town?” Hoss asked, turning to look at their prisoners.

“Yeah, he did,” Joe agreed. “Don’t think that blood came from either of these guys though.”

“That’s because we’re innocent,” Baldwin stated again, his tone angry. “First we tried to tell them fellers back there, now you two. We ain’t done nothin’.”

“Maybe they’s right, Joe,” Hoss frowned.

“Yeah, maybe,” Joe mused thoughtfully. Turning his attention to the two men, he asked, “Where were you two headed when they caught up to you?”

“To Springfield,” Baldwin answered. “We both got family there. Mike here’s got a wife and three young’uns.”

“That true?” Hoss asked, turning toward the man known as Mike.

“Yes sir,” Mike nodded. “Bin waiting on me near a week now. Thought we was both goners when we lost our way taking that short cut through the Desert. Justice out there can be swift and cruel. Thought we was safe when we got this far, only to be nearly strung up by those men back there. Now we’re goin’ to jail and for nothin’ more’n taking’ a wrong turn.”

“The more I hear The Stranger it gets,” Joe murmured to his brother.

All four of the men turned as they heard hoofbeats approaching. “It’s that lynch mob agin,” Hoss scowled.

“Yeah, and it looks like they met up with a bunch of friends,” Joe muttered. “There’s at least a dozen of ‘em now.”

“We’ll never make it to Virginia City,” Hoss informed them wryly. “Our best hope now is to try to Escape to the Ponderosa.”

“Yeah, we can hold them off there until we can get the sheriff out,” Joe agreed. “Come on.”

Knowing their own land as well as they did, it wasn’t hard for the Cartwrights to shake off their pursuers once on Ponderosa land. Unfortunately, the two men with them were a bit slower on the uneven ground.

“We ain’t gonna make it to the house by nightfall at this rate,” Hoss pointed out as the sun began to set. “And you fellas ain’t gonna get any faster in the dark. We might as well make camp here till morning.”

“Why are you doing this?” Mike asked as they dismounted. “If you really think we’re guilty, why risk your lives instead of just handing us over to Jenkins?”

“Guilty or not,” Joe replied. “Every man deserves a fair trial. Seems to me Jenkins has appointed himself The Avenger, the punisher, the righter of wrongs…”

“Yeah, I got that,” Mike cut in, raising an eyebrow in Baldwin’s direction as though to indicate he thought the younger Cartwright was a few notes short of a full scale.

“So what are you going to do with us now?” Baldwin asked.

“Well, for starters, we’re gonna try to keep you from being strung up by that Jenkins bunch, then we’re gonna let the sheriff decide whether or not you fit the description of them bank robbers,” Hoss answered calmly

“And if we don’t?” Baldwin pressed.

“Then you’ll be free to go on your way,” Joe replied.

“And what if Jenkins is still waiting for us?” Baldwin continued. “I’m sure he’d like nothin’ better than to add us to his list of trophies.”

“I think Jenkins already has The Last Trophy he’s gonna get,” Hoss scowled. “The sheriff will take care of him, we’ll see to that.”

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Mike sighed. “Next time I’m gonna be thinkin’ twice before taking’ a San Francisco Holiday, that’s for sure. I never guessed how much trouble a man could run into just trying to get home.”

Baldwin was raising his canteen to his lips as his friend spoke. Realizing it was empty, he tossed it to the ground in disgust.

“Here,” Hoss grinned, tossing him his own canteen.

“Thanks,” Baldwin replied after shooting him a wary look. “Guess I used up all mine in the desert.”

“Drink hearty,” Hoss offered.

Baldwin took a long drink before he started choking and spit it out. “That’s the most Bitter Water I’ve ever tasted,” he spat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Joe giggled. “I warned you about washing your socks in your canteen, brother,” he teased.

“I didn’t do no such thing and you know it, Little Joe,” he replied defensively. Turning to Baldwin, he apologized. “Forgot to mention, I put some ginseng root in the water. Don’t taste as sweet maybe, but it’ll still quench your thirst and give you a boost of energy to boot.”

“Thanks,” Baldwin replied, handing back the canteen. “But I think I’ll stick to just plain ol’ water from here on.”

Joe tossed his canteen in the stranger’s direction, his expression still one of amusement. “Plain ol’ water,” he promised.

As night descended upon them, they talked about various things. Though Baldwin remained suspicious, his friend seemed anxious to talk about the family he had waiting for him. At one point he even pulled some pictures from his shirt pocket and showed them to the Cartwright boys. “Ain’t they just the cutest kids you ever did see?” he beamed proudly.

“Sure ‘nuff are,” Hoss grinned as he looked at the photos. After a while, he took Joe aside.

“I’ve bin thinkin’, Joe. I don’t think these are the guys that robbed that bank. They don’t have no money on them and they seem to be genuinely interested in getting home.”

“Yeah,” Joe sighed. “I know what you mean. It’s not like the sheriff was actually looking for these two. I think Jenkins just saw two men riding together and assumed they were the robbers.”

“Ya really think we need to take ‘em into the sheriff?” Hoss asked. “”For all we know, they mighta caught them robbers already.”

“I know they were out looking for them already,” Joe agreed. “With one of ‘em wounded, they should have caught up to them by now. Sheriff Coffee might be getting up in years but no one could accuse him of having Feet of Clay when there’s work to be done.”

“So what do you think we oughtta do?” Hoss asked, glancing at the two men who were looking at the pictures, talking and smiling.

“I think we should let them go,” Joe sighed. “As far as I’m concerned, they’re just two guys trying to get home.”

“I think so too,” Hoss beamed. “Let’s go tell them.”

Once the two men had saddled their horses, Baldwin extended his hand with a sincere smile. “I wasn’t sure about you two,” he admitted. “But now I know you’re honourable men. Thanks for everything.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Hoss grinned, returning the handshake. “But you’re still welcome to camp here till morning.”

“We’ve been away long enough,” Mike added. “We’re used to traveling at night. We’ll be fine as soon as we get to familiar ground.”

“Just remember what we told you,” Joe smiled as he shook hands with the two men. Nodding in the direction of the night sky, he repeated his earlier instructions, “Follow that Dark Star there in the middle. It’ll get you to the main road.”

“And watch out for that Jenkins bunch,” Hoss warned. “We’ll have the sheriff after them in the morning, but until they catch up with him, two men traveling alone won’t stand much of a chance.”

“We’ll be careful,” Mike promised. “Now that we know they’re out there, we’ll be sure not to run into them.”

After watching the two men ride off in the direction of the main road, Hoss turned to Joe. “Now what? Without those two holdin’ us up, we could be home in a few hours.”

“We could,” Joe mused, looking around at the small camp. “I don’t much like the idea of spending the night out here on the hard ground, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Hoss added. “If’n we do spend the night out here, I can’t promise you won’t find me in my bedroll starved to Death at Dawn.”

“All right,” Joe laughed. “I get it. You’re hungry. I guess we’d best keep riding.”

They saddled up their horses and headed in the direction of the house. “You think we did the right thing?” Hoss asked as they rode.

“I’m sure of it,” Joe answered. “Those men are no more bank robbers than we are.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Hoss nodded. “Come on, little brother. Let’s pick up the pace before I plumb waste away.”

The end… well, of season one anyway…