Summary: An accident during a hunting trip threatens to take the life of Ben Cartwright, later forcing him to reflect on his three sons and what they mean to him. Rating T, WC 16,000

THE BEST LOVED SON

The horse’s sides were lathered, its breathing labored, as its rider pounded toward the Ponderosa ranch house. Again and again, Joe touched his heels to the black and white flanks to encourage Cochise on to greater speed. Trailing far behind was the ranch hand who had been dispatched to the upper pasture to bring the youngest Cartwright home. Joe rode the horse to a standstill in the dusty yard that surrounded the Cartwright’s home. He threw the reins into the waiting hands of yet another ranch hand and sprinted for the door.

As the young man dashed into the house, his eyes immediately tracked up the stairs where he spotted his brother Hoss waiting for him. Taking the stairs two at a time, he arrived breathlessly at the top. “What happened, Hoss? How’s Pa?” Joe gasped out.

Hoss pulled Joe toward him and he was shaking. Hoss thought of his baby brother and knew how hard this was going to be for him. Joe would need a strong shoulder and this time it was Hoss’ job to offer one. “It’s bad, Little Joe. You better come on in and see him. But, he’s heavily sedated and may not know you’re there.” Hoss turned toward his father’s bedroom still keeping hold of his brother’s arm for support.

Joe and Hoss entered Ben Cartwright’s bedroom. Joe felt a rush of tension overwhelm him as he saw Doc Martin bending over the big bed, a heap of bloody bandages on the floor at his side. Hop Sing hovered attentively offering a tray of instruments to the doctor. Adam stood silently on the other side of the bed, his head bowed, but keeping a firm grip on his father’s hand. He looked up to see his two younger brothers almost tiptoeing across the room and he moved to meet them.

Joe raised tearful green eyes to meet his brother’s grave, dark, haunted eyes full of desperation. “What happened, Adam?” Joe’s voice quavered and a tear dripped down one cheek.

Adam reached out with a gentle hand and carefully wiped the tear from Joe’s face. “It was an accident Joe,” he whispered. “We were hunting and Pa dropped his rifle. When he went to pick it up…” Adam’s voice trailed off and he glanced back at the silent doctor, who hadn’t even looked up at the new arrivals.

As Joe attempted to move closer to his father’s bed, Adam reached for him and held him back. “Not yet, Joe. Let the doctor work. He’s trying to stop the bleeding.”

Even as Adam spoke, Paul Martin wiped his hands on a clean cloth held out by Hop Sing. He moved towards the waiting trio, a sorrowful look in his eyes. “I’d like to talk to you boys downstairs, please.” The doctor’s voice was gentle, but the tone of command was unmistakable.

Joe noticed the grim look on the doctor’s careworn face and read the sorrow in his eyes. Ben Cartwright was one of Paul Martin’s oldest friends. Joe broke away from his brothers and hurried over to his father’ still figure. Joe knelt down next to the bed, wanting to be as close as possible to the man. He rested his head on Ben’s right arm and moaned out in anguish. This was Pa. This was his source of strength. This was the one that the boy had always turned to, and now Joe could tell by all that he had witnessed that his father was going to be leaving him.

“Pa–can you hear me?” Joe choked on the words as he stared at his father’s pale face. Joe noticed how old his father looked. He had always been so strong, so virile, it frightened Joe to the marrow of his bones to see him in this condition. “Pa‑‑please wake up. Tell me you’ll be all right. Don’t leave me, Pa.” Joe dropped his head down once more and sobbed.

The doctor shook his head. He had expected something like this. Adam and Hoss loved their father as much as Joe, but the relationship between the youngest Cartwright and his father was unique. Joe was so young, only eighteen and he needed his father so much. Paul hated to hurt the youngster like this. Truth be told, his own relationship with Joe Cartwright was something special. He saw Adam moving to take Joe by the shoulder. “Adam,” he called out quickly. “It’s all right. We can talk in here. Let Joe stay with Ben.”

Adam nodded quickly and moved to rejoin the doctor and Hoss. “What’s going on Paul?” he asked trying to maintain the control he knew he must have to hold the rest of the family together. “What’s happening to Pa?”

The doctor pitched his voice loud enough to be heard by Joe, who still knelt by his father’s side. “It doesn’t look good, Adam. Your father is bleeding into the abdominal cavity. I’ve removed the bullet and cleaned the wound to the best of my ability. But I can’t stop that bleeding. Without some sort of miracle your father is going to die.”

“No!” Joe was quick to shout as he sprang from the floor and made his way over to the others. “Do something! You can’t just give up on him. He’s my Pa! I can’t live without him!” Joe yelled at all of them wanting, needing, to hear everything would be okay.

“He’s our Pa too, Joe.” Adam’s voice came out more harshly than he intended. He was suffering along with Hoss and even the doctor who was as close to Ben as a brother. Even Hop Sing standing in the corner of the room had tears in his eyes and was praying in his native tongue.

Joe looked at the doctor, his eyes pleading with the man for help. The doctor simply shook his head and replied, “I’m sorry, Joe, I’ve done everything I can.”

Joe turned back to his brothers and collapsed into their waiting arms. All three Cartwright sons wept.

That evening seemed to be in slow motion for everyone. Ben still hadn’t come around and the doctor would come up the stairs every so often to check. He knew he didn’t really have to, as he knew the Cartwright boys would have informed him immediately if there had been any change in Ben’s condition.

The vigil was a silent one; none of the brothers spoke. They kept tearful eyes directed only at the man they all loved lying so still in his bed. Adam and Hoss had each drawn chairs up on each side of the bed. Little Joe chose to continue his watch up by the head of the bed where he could be closer to his pa. After expending so many tears, the young man had dropped his head down next to his father’s on the same pillow and fell fast asleep.

Seeing this, Hoss and Adam felt the lumps in their throats grow bigger. Joe looked so much as he had when he was just a little tyke. They had seen him slumber just like this in the past whenever he had crept into his father’s room due to some kind of fear. It never took much for Joe to worry about his father anyway. Even before Ben would leave on a trip, it would bring out the painful worry in the boy that something would happen to his father. Both brothers now worried what would happen to Joe with the passing of Ben. They each knew that they would hurt forever but would somehow go on. They doubted Little Joe would be capable of doing that and might mourn himself to death.

Hoss took off the blanket from the cedar chest at the foot of his father’s bed and carefully placed it around his little brother’s shoulders and walked back to his chair. Glancing over at Adam he saw his oldest brother nod. He knew what Adam was thinking. It was now up to them to look after the boy.

Joe saw the sun’s rays streaming through the window in his father’s room. He blinked hard and then noticed he was alone with Ben for the first time. “Pa?” Joe called softly and noticed a flutter of activity across his father’s eye lids.

Slowly, Ben opened them and gazed at his youngest son. “Joseph,” he said hoarsely.

“Pa, I’ve been so worried about you. But, you are gonna be okay.” Joe tried to make the words sound like fact.

Ben fought for the strength and found it to lift up his right hand and rub the boy’s head of curls lightly. He saw the tear streaked face of his youngest and knew in his heart that what the boy had said was only wishful thinking. Ben mustered a brief smile and said, “Son. I need to talk to Adam for a minute. Will you get him for me?”

“I’ll bring him right back with me, Pa,” Joe agreed and stood up slowly, not wanting to leave his father for even a minute.

“Joseph, I need to speak to your brother alone. You go and wash up and change your clothes. I’ll talk to you a little later.” Ben was trying his best not to hurt the boy but he needed Adam, and Adam alone, right then.

Joe dropped his head down, he felt inside that he knew what Ben was going to do now. Adam would be talked with first. His father was going to tell each one goodbye. “I’ll go get him,” Joe answered sullenly and turned to leave the room.

Adam entered the darkened room and moved to his father’s bedside. He saw at once that Ben’s eyes were open and he quickly placed a smile on his lips for the older man. Slipping into a chair, he reached for Ben’s hand and enfolded it in his own. Reaching to stroke his father’s forehead with his other hand, he could feel the heat of fever radiating from the other man’s body. Adam drew a shaky breath. “How are you feeling, Pa?”

Ben moved slowly and painfully, stretching his right hand across the bed to touch Adam’s cheek in a feather-like caress. With shadowed eyes and a halting voice, he replied, “I’ve been better, son.”

Adam gave a shaky laugh and clutched the hand he held just a bit tighter. “Joe said you wanted to see me, Pa. But I don’t think you should be talking too much right now. You need your rest.”

Ben shook his head, a quick indrawn breath the only sign of the immense pain and weakness that he felt. “We need to talk about the future, Adam.” Again he reached for Adam’s cheek, wiping away the stray bit of moisture that was tracking slowly down the chiseled features. “I need you to take charge here. Hoss and Joe need you.”

Adam bowed his head, pressing his forehead into his father’s arm, his breath caught in the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. “No, Pa. You’re going to be in charge for many more years, not me. I’m not ready.”

Ben’s laugh was shaky, but the warmth was unmistakable. “You’re more than ready, Adam. Have faith in yourself. I know I have every confidence in you.” Another sobbing breath, and Ben continued. “Take care of Little Joe. He’s so young, Adam. He’s going to be devastated by my death, and it’s going to take all your skill to bring him through it. Let him see your love, son.”

The tears were pouring down Adam’s face unchecked. He wasn’t even aware of the soft rain that fell onto the hand that he gripped so tightly in his own. “Pa…” he started, but then couldn’t finish. He simply nodded, letting his eyes speak for him. “You know I will, Pa,” he finally managed to say. “You can count on me.”

Ben’s eyes were moist and shining with pride. “I always have, Adam. I always will.”

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, until Ben felt his strength waning. “Adam, I need to see Hoss now. Will you send him in please.” With a last caress of his oldest son’s face, Ben released his grip on Adam’s hand.

Adam stood slowly, his eyes memorizing every detail of his father’s face. He bent and softly kissed his father’s cheek, something he’d never done before. “Thank you for everything, Pa,” he said. Turning on his heel, his back straight and his head held high, he moved to the door. He didn’t turn back but Ben could feel the pain radiating through the air.

Hoss and Joe were leaning against the wall outside Ben’s bedroom door. They looked up quickly when the door opened and Adam slipped outside. They waited while Adam scrubbed a hand across his eyes and visibly tried to pull himself together. Finally, their oldest brother lifted his head. With a nod at Hoss, he said quietly, “He wants to see you next, Hoss. He’s tiring quickly though.”

Hoss immediately opened the door, and with a surprising amount of grace and agility for such a big man, he moved across the expanse of floor to the bed. The room was beautiful, an oasis of serenity in the rough-hewn male world of the Ponderosa. Marie had furnished it with her possessions brought from New Orleans, and usually upon entering Hoss, with his love of beauty, took some time to gaze at the fine carpets and exquisite pictures on the walls. Today though, his attention was focused solely on the bed and the man who lay in it.

Sitting in the same chair that Adam had recently vacated, he saw that Ben’s eyes were closed. Tenderly, Hoss reached one thick finger and touched his father’s cheek. “Pa?” he whispered quietly, hoping that he wouldn’t wake his father from a much needed sleep.

Ben’s eyes opened immediately, and he tried to smile at his middle son. Hoss with his gentle spirit and shining blue eyes, the image of his mother’s Norwegian forebears. “Hello, Hoss,” he choked out. “It’s good to see you.”

Hoss gasped audibly at the strain in his father’s voice and he squeezed the older man’s shoulder briefly. “How d’ya feel, Pa?” The gentle man’s voice was already breaking, and he didn’t even try to check the tears that streamed freely down his normally placid face.

“I don’t have much time, son,” Ben began, shaking his head when Hoss started to voice a protest. “I need to finish this, Hoss, please.”

The big man subsided, his face a mask of misery. “I wish I could do somethin’ for ya, Pa.” Hoss’s fingers shook and he clasped them together to mask their trembling. Leaning forward he looked intently at his father. “What did ya want to say?”

Ben smiled, his pride in this son a palpable thing. Hoss was a rare man, his gift for peacemaking between his brothers and his love for all the creatures of the earth a source of unending joy for his father. “I want you to do what you do best, Hoss. Take care of Adam and Joe. Make sure they don’t fight. Stand between them, but connect them, son. You’ve always done it so well. I know I can count on you to continue.”

The long speech seemed to sap all of Ben’s strength, and he closed his eyes against the sudden wave of nausea and fatigue. He opened them slowly to see Hoss openly sobbing, his head in his hands. Raising bright blue eyes swimming with tears, Hoss looked solemnly at his father. “I’ll do my best, Pa,” he promised. “I cain’t guarantee they’ll let me, but I’ll try.” A smile flickered through the tears. “They just happen ta be the two most stubborn men in the world. I don’t know how ya managed to produce two of ‘em.”

Ben tried to chuckle, but the laugh died in another wave of pain. “Hoss,” he gasped. “I need to see Joe. Please, before it’s too late. I love you son, and don’t ever forget that I’m proud of you.”

Hoss rose and bent over his father’s frail form. Gathering the older man’s shoulders into a gentle embrace, he touched his forehead to the crown of Ben’s head. “You’ve been the best Pa a man could want,” he said softly. “I thank you for makin’ me the man I am today, Pa.” He turned and stumbled to the door.

When he reached the hallway he stopped and leaned his face against the rough planking, burying his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Adam and Joe crowded in close, reaching to console their brother. When he could finally speak, Hoss motioned for Joe to enter the room. “He needs ya, Little Brother,” was all he could say.

Joe opened the planked door and fought to walk back over to his father. He really did not want to hear what Pa was going to tell him. All he wanted to hear was that his father was not going to leave him. As Joe drew closer, Ben lifted his hand, signaling the boy over. Joe once more knelt down at the head of the bed. He looked into Ben’s dull eyes and knew he was starting to drift back to sleep.

“Come here, Little Joe.” Ben patted the bed next to him and Joe rose and sat down on the bed next to the man who had raised him. Joe had mostly been referred to as Joseph during his eighteen years and had rarely been called Little Joe by his father. Ben looked at his youngest son and it was evident that his heart was breaking as he reached to pull the boy towards his chest. Joe followed the gesture and laid his head on his father’s shoulder for what seemed like the last time he would be able to do that. “I wasn’t through with you, Son. There was so much more I wanted to show you; so much I still wanted to tell you. Leaving you now is a dirty trick.”

“Then don’t leave me, Pa,” Joe cried uncontrollably. He clung to his father and refused to let go.

Ben’s right hand slowly stroked the abundance of curly hair as he had done so many times in the boy’s life. “If I could stay with you, you know I would, Little Joe. But, it seems like God has other plans for me now. I want you to pull from that huge amount of stubbornness you have shown me since the day you were born. I want you to continue making me proud each day of your life.”

“I was never a good son.” Joe’s voice broke at his confession. “I caused you so much trouble.”

Ben cupped Joe’s face in his own two hands and looked directly into the hazel eyes. Ben managed a tired smile and said, “You may not have always done as you were instructed, but you have given me joy each and every moment of your life. Don’t lose that part of yourself that questions things, Son. You have taught me a thing or two over the years. And you have brought humor into this house, something we didn’t have until there was a Joseph Francis Cartwright.”

“Please don’t leave me, Pa,” Joe repeated, his fear heightened as he saw his father close his weary eyes.

Ben struggled to open his eyes once more before falling back into an exhausted sleep. “Joseph‑‑I’ll never leave you. I’ll always be in your heart, just like you will always be in mine. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Pa.” Joe kissed his father and watched as he drifted off. Joe sat there for a long while praying to God to please not take the man who he loved more than life from him.

Joe finally found the strength to make it out to the hallway.

Adam and Hoss gazed at the tear stained face of their younger brother. Instinctively the three men moved together for comfort. Joe felt himself pulled into the protective circle formed by their arms and let himself sink into the solace they offered. The ranks closed, the Cartwrights shared their mutual grief and anguish.

It was this scene that greeted Paul Martin and Hop Sing as they ascended the stairs and headed for Ben’s room, Hop Sing bearing a tray of medical supplies and a bowl of hot water. Paul’s eyes grew concerned. “Is he..?” Unable to finish the question, he didn’t wait for the reply and pushed his way into the room, Hop Sing at his heels.

The mood broken, Hoss and Adam pulled away from the little huddle, leaving Joe leaning forlornly against the wall. Neither of the older men could bear the inactivity any longer and muttering excuses they drifted away, Adam heading down the stairs and Hoss going to his room and shutting the door. Joe watched them go, panic overtaking him. His father was dying and his brothers had left him. He felt bereft, until a sudden surge of anger overrode any other feeling. Pa couldn’t die, it was impossible. Ben Cartwright was a big, strong man. Joe needed him to be around for many more years to come. The youngest Cartwright squared his shoulder, his chin set in a determined line. He wasn’t going to give up. If no one else was going to do it, he’d fight for his father.

He burst into the bedroom, startling the doctor. “Doc, you’ve got to save him!” Joe’s voice was strident.

Paul frowned at the interruption, he hadn’t missed the effect that Joe’s urgency was having on the man in the bed. “Joe, get out of here now,” he ordered firmly. “You’re upsetting your father.”

Joe saw Ben moving in agitation, a grimace of pain on his face. He realized the truth of the doctor’s words. A wave of guilt overwhelmed him and he meekly left the room. He headed down the stairs, spotting Adam sitting at Ben’s desk. Still seething with resentment at the apparent acceptance of his father’s impending demise, Joe stalked up to the desk. He glanced at the papers that were spread over the desk and realized that Adam was looking at their father’s will.

“What do you think you’re doing, Adam?” he demanded angrily. “Pa isn’t even dead yet, and you’re picking over his bones.” Joe stood with his hands planted on his hips, his green eyes flashing sparks.

Adam struggled to bite back an angry retort. He knew that Joe was stretched to the breaking point emotionally and didn’t want to antagonize him further. “Joe,” he said patiently. “I’m just looking over a few things. Pa’s wishes are spelled out in this document and I wanted to make sure that I knew what they were.”

“He isn’t going to die, Adam,” Joe spat out. “You may have given up on him, but I sure haven’t!” He stormed around the desk and grabbed the front of Adam’s black shirt, hauling him up out of the chair. “He’s my Pa, Adam, and I won’t let him die!”

The lack of sleep and worry that Adam had been experiencing since his father’s accident took its toll on his self control. “He’s my father, too, Joe,” he snapped back irritably. “You’re not the only one who cares what’s happening. Now leave me alone.” Adam tried to disengage the clinging hands to no avail.

Joe’s temper flared anew. Adam’s response only heightened his frustration and made him feel like a kid who needed coddling. Without thinking, he drew back his left hand and connected solidly with Adam’s jaw. A look of satisfaction streaked across his face and he turned to storm across the room. Standing by the door with his hand on the latch he glared at Adam again. “I’m going to find someone who knows what they’re doing. I won’t let Pa die, Adam.” With that he was gone. The slam of the door sent echoes reverberating across the room.

Hoss descended the stairs, a perplexed frown on his face. “Where’s Little Joe goin’, Adam. It ain’t like him to take off with Pa so sick.”

Adam’s face was a study in anger and frustration. He fingered the growing bruise on his jawbone. “Our little brother has decided that we don’t care about Pa dying, and he’s off to find someone who will save Pa’s life.”

Hoss grimaced. “I’ll go after him, Adam. He’s hurtin’ pretty badly right now.” He started for the door, but was halted by his Adam’s next words.

“No, let him go, Hoss. He needs some time to cool down. He won’t be gone long with Pa lying upstairs.”

The thread of anger in Adam’s voice alerted Hoss to his need. Realizing that he needed to step in between his brothers again, he returned to Adam’s side, prepared to talk to him until Adam’s temper returned to an acceptable level.

Little Joe lost himself in the rhythm of Cochise’s stride. He always loved riding the flashy pinto; it often seemed as if the horse could understand his thoughts. Today, however, with his father lying near death, Joe couldn’t let himself enjoy the ride. He rode purposefully, heading towards the Indian encampment on the edge of the Cartwright land.

As he approached the camp, he was halted by two warriors, who questioned his intentions. Joe announced that he needed to see Winnemucca and after conferring with each other, the braves nodded and signaled for him to dismount. Joe slid off the pinto’s back and carefully followed behind his guides. He gazed around at the bustle of the camp’s daily activity. Small children laughed and played with sticks and stones, while the women went about their daily chores, calling to each other and gossiping contentedly. Several of them lifted their heads and watched with interest as Joe walked by and by the time he reached the home of the chief he had a ragtag collection of children trailing at his heels.

Winnemucca was seated in front of his simple dwelling, a young brave by his side. Both stared impassively at the young white man who stood before them. Finally, Winnemucca inclined his head and gestured for Joe to take a seat on the ground beside him. “What brings the son of Ben Cartwright to our village?” he asked in his resonant voice.

“My father lies in his bed gravely ill. The doctor says he’s dying. I’ve come to beg Winnemucca to send his medicine man to help him. Ben Cartwright has long been a friend to the Indians. I was hoping that you would want to save his life.” Joe’s voice trembled with emotion as he made his plea. He kept his eye on the chief, never wavering, trying not to show weakness in front of these dignified people.

Winnemucca thought for several minutes while Joe tried to sit without squirming. At last the chief spoke again. “Many moons ago the son of Ben Cartwright saved the life of my son, Silver Wolf.” The chief inclined his head towards the young Indian brave who sat silently beside him. “Do you remember that, young Joseph?”

Joe grinned at the young man seated beside the chief. “I remember it well, Winnemucca. We were eleven at the time. Your son fell through the ice while we were skating on a small pond. I dove through the ice and pulled him to the shore.” Joe’s voice trailed off as he became lost in the memory.

Silver Wolf was only a few months older than Joe and the two were good friends. They would meet in the woods to hunt or fish or swim. On the coldest day of the winter in question, they had met at their usual spot. Their goal was a cave set high in the mountains where they had seen the tracks of a bear the previous week. Before they reached the cave, however, they had passed by a small pond that had a shimmering glaze of ice covering it. The two boys had laughingly tested the ice and determined that it was safe.

They had spent several pleasurable minutes gliding on the smooth surface when the ominous sound of a crack ricocheted through the air. It was rapidly followed by another loud crack, and then another. Joe was nearest to the shoreline, and he had swiftly gotten off the ice. Silver Wolf hadn’t been so lucky. He had been sliding on the middle of the pond, and he couldn’t reach the shore in time. Joe still remembered the startled expression on the young Indian’s face as he had disappeared into the icy water underneath the frozen pond. Without thinking, Joe had slid carefully along the ice until he could reach the jagged edges of the break. There was no sign of his friend, and so he dove in. The shock of the cold water had driven the breath from his lungs and the feeling from his arms and legs with an amazing rapidity. On the third dive, his questing fingers had found the buckskin jacket of the other boy. Pulling for the surface, Joe had managed to get both himself and his friend to safety. As they lay gasping beside the ice, Silver Wolf had vowed to repay his friend someday. Apparently Winnemucca had remembered that vow.

Joe returned from his journey through his memories to find the chief and his son smiling at him. Again, Winnemucca’s resonant voice filled the air. “I will send our tribe’s medicine man to help the son of Ben Cartwright. If anyone can save your father it will be Eagle Feather. My son will escort you to your home and return when Eagle Feather has completed his work.” Winnemucca reached out with a strong arm and clasped Joe’s forearm.

Joe returned the salute and stood gracefully. “I don’t want to be rude, Winnemucca,” he said carefully. “But my father needs help quickly. When will Eagle Feather be ready to leave?”

Silver Wolf rose to his feet as well. “We are ready now, my friend. Look behind you.”

Joe turned to see the tribe’s distinguished medicine man standing a few feet behind him. Another brave stood holding the reins of two Indian ponies. With a grateful smile on his face, Joe nodded to the chief. “I will send your son and Eagle Feather home soon, Winnemucca. The Cartwrights will be forever in your debt.” With that he spun on his heel and moved to where he had left Cochise. Within minutes he and the two Indians were heading for the Ponderosa.

The sound of hoofbeats brought Adam and Hoss to peer out their father’s window, relief evident in their expressions. Joe was finally home. As Joe entered the sprawling ranch house, followed by the Chief’s son and

the medicine man, he turned to see Hop Sing standing just beyond the entrance way. One look at Joe and his entourage made Hop Sing drop the tray that was in his hands. It looked as though the family was being raided by Indians at the worst possible time.

Joe ignored the perplexed look on the cook’s face and steered the Indians up the stairs. They burst into Ben’s bedroom and were greeted by the shocked faces of Doctor Martin, Adam, and Hoss.

“What is the meaning of this?” Paul thundered at Joe. He had been trying his best to make Ben’s passing as calm and serene as humanly possible and now the man’s youngest son was defeating that purpose.

“Joe? What are you doing?” Adam also moved to confront his brother. He figured Joe had once again gone off the deep end in his quest to save his father.

“I’ve brought Winnemucca’s son and the medicine man to help Pa,” Joe retorted sharply and started to move his troops toward the bed.

“Joe.” The doctor paused as he read the boy’s desperation in his face. “I’ve told you that there is nothing we can do for your father now. If there was, I would have already done it. You go messing around and you may hasten his death. You don’t want that do you, boy?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, Joe, c’mon let’s go downstairs and talk about it, okay?” Hoss also tried to get between Joe and his father’s bed.

With a lightning quick draw of his Colt revolver Joe pointed the weapon at all three men. Brother or no brother, friend or no friend, they were not going to stop him from what he figured was his last chance to save his Pa. “You three go downstairs. Anyone who makes a move toward me or my friends is gonna be hurt. I don’t want to do this, but I swear I will.” Joe’s voice was cold and deadly.

“Joe! Stop this nonsense now!” Adam decided to take a chance and moved toward his little brother. He then heard the click of the hammer of the gun.

“Adam, this is gonna be worse than that little fracas we had downstairs if you move any closer. Now get out! Get out all of you!”

Worried glances passed between all three men. They did not doubt for one instant that Joe was serious in his threat. It wasn’t out of anger, they all knew that. It was out of fear that Joe chose to take over the bedroom. Slowly they all proceeded out to the hall.

Joe moved next to the head of his father’s bed and stared down at Ben. He noticed the labored breathing and the wan pallor of the man’s face. Joe leaned closer and whispered into his father’s ear. “Pa‑‑I know you can hear me. I’ve brought help. Eagle Feather is gonna make you well again. Hold on a little while longer, Pa. Don’t give up. I love you.” Joe kissed his father’s forehead and looked over at Silver Wolf. “What do you want me to do?” he asked the brave.

Silver Wolf spoke in his foreign tongue with Eagle Feather. The medicine man was being insistent about something, and he conversed with the Indian for several minutes before Silver Wolf answered Joe’s pleading question. “Eagle Feather says no white man can be in here while he tends your father. He also said you must have faith in his powers for them to work.”

Joe reached over to Silver Wolf and patted his arm. “You tell him that I have faith in him. I’ll be just outside the door if you two need anything at all.” Joe nodded his head and took one last long look at his father. “I’ll be back soon, Pa,” Joe whispered and walked out of the room.

Silver Wolf helped the medicine man draw out several items from his medicine bag. Eagle Feather draped a talisman over Ben’s stomach and started to chant. Then he reached into another pouch, which hung from his deerskin belt. He pulled out a poultice, which was composed mainly of spider webs. Silver Wolf lifted the bandage, which was wrapped, around Ben’s gunshot wound. Eagle Feather continued his chanting as he dipped the spider webs into some powdered buffalo horns and then compressed it directly into the stricken man’s open wound.

The smell of incense permeated the bedroom as both Indians began to chant together their own prayers to their God, who was the same one that Joe had spoken to earlier. Eagle Feather would check the wound repeatedly and add what he needed to help draw out the poison and slow the bleeding.

Joe held his position outside his father’s room. Standing like a sentry, with his gun still in his shaky left hand, he waited. He was worried that his brothers would try for another take‑over. He didn’t know how long he could pull off the current stand‑off.

Adam stood with one leg propped on the fireplace, morosely staring at the flickering flames. Hoss paced the floor behind him, while the doctor sat grimly in a chair, a cup of Hop Sing’s coffee clutched in his hand. The silence grew and lengthened as they all strained to hear what was happening upstairs.

At long last the doctor stood up and walked to Adam’s side. Laying a consoling hand on the other man’s shoulder, he said quietly, “You can’t blame the boy, Adam. He’s working so hard to save his father’s life. If he feels that he did everything he could possibly do to save Ben, he might accept his death better.”

Adam straightened slowly, while Hoss stopped pacing and moved closer to listen. “You may be right, Paul,” Adam said speculatively. “Joe is going to have a harder time with this than any of us. If he feels that he fought till the bitter end, instead of giving up, it just might help him.”

Hoss nodded in agreement. “I think you’re right, Doc,” he said. He turned to look again at the staircase, listening in vain for a sound to indicate something was happening. “Adam, don’t you think we ought to get up there and see what’s goin’ on? I still don’ like Joe runnin’ us out of there like that.”

Adam nodded. “Let’s go, but be quiet, Hoss. We don’t want to upset Joe any more than he already is.”

The three men started up the stairs, taking care to keep their feet as quiet as possible. As they reached the top, Adam stopped, a soft smile forming on his lips. His finger moved to his lips and he turned to gesture at his father’s doorway. The two men crowded up behind him and peered over his shoulder. Hoss started to say something, but was hushed by the other two. Adam tiptoed forward, crouching in front of the figure of his youngest brother. Joe had fallen asleep with his gun still clutched in his hand. The strain of worrying about his father had completely worn him out.

Adam gently tugged the gun from Joe’s unresisting fingers. He opened the chamber and his smile grew broader. He gestured for the doctor and Hoss to move in closer, showing them the gun. The chamber was completely empty. Joe had taken care to remove the bullets before he entered his father’s room. Adam placed the gun back in Joe’s lap and tenderly stroked the curly head, but he didn’t try to move his brother from his post. Joe would never forgive him if his secret was discovered. He had wanted to appear tough and menacing, but had ensured that he couldn’t harm his brothers. Adam would let him keep his secret.

Joe groaned and wearily stretched his sore body. He had slept sitting against his father’s door all night, and now he could feel every muscle in his body screaming in protest. He glanced down the still hallway, wondering what had awakened him. He heard the door behind him open, and realized that the chanting had ceased in the bedroom where his father lay.

He rose quickly to his feet and turned to face Silver Wolf, who stood gazing calmly at the bedraggled young man. “How’s Pa?” Joe asked softly. “Is he…?”

“He’s still alive,” Silver Wolf replied quietly. He gestured, beckoning Joe into the room. “Come, see for yourself.”

Joe moved toward the bed, his breath caught in his throat. He gasped when he saw his father’s pale face, and noticed the shallow, rapid breathing. Ben Cartwright might be alive, but he didn’t look well. Joe whirled, anger replacing the fear he was feeling. “I thought you said you would help him. I held a gun on my brothers for you. He should be feeling better now.” He spat the words at the two Indians.

Silver Wolf smiled sadly. “Your father’s fate is in the hands of his God now, Little Joe. Eagle Feather has done what he can. We will leave you now. My debt to you is paid.” The young brave motioned respectfully for the older man to precede him out the door.

Joe stopped them with a hand to Silver Wolf’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said in a rush. “I didn’t mean that. I do trust you, Eagle Feather. It’s just that I’m so afraid for my father.”

Eagle Feather inclined his head toward Joe, his expression solemn. “I have chanted the prayers of healing and burned the sacred fires. It is in the hands of the Gods, as Silver Wolf has said. But I feel Ben Cartwright’s spirit, and it is strong. He will fight to live. We must go now.” The medicine bowed his head again, and the two Indians left the room.

Joe returned to his father’s side. The wound didn’t look any worse than it had the previous night, even if it didn’t look any better. He prayed fervently and he sank into the chair at his father’s bedside. “Oh God, please let Pa be all right. I hope I haven’t made a mistake bringing Eagle Feather here. I thought I was doing the right thing, really God. Don’t let Pa suffer because of me.” He buried his head in his arms, leaning against the man who had been his strength and salvation for his whole life.

When Hoss and Adam entered the room a little while later, Joe was still in the same position. As one they moved forward, fear in their hearts. The sight of their father’s chest rising and falling in a shallow rhythm heartened them. They moved to join Joe in his vigil.

Joe reached to feel his father’s forehead again. There still was no change and he started to feel queasy about what he had done. He shot a glance at both Hoss and Adam. Neither of the two brothers spoke and Joe knew he was in hot water with them as always. Joe decided to avoid them and grabbed the blanket he had used the previous night and sat down on the floor next to his father’s bed.

Adam and Hoss took the seats, which they had grown accustomed to during the long ordeal. They, too, avoided Joe’s eyes, not knowing exactly what to say to the boy. With each moan from Ben they flinched and wondered if it were his last breath. Hoss and Adam took turns throughout the next few hours checking their father’s wound and putting damp cloths on his forehead to stay the increasing sign of fever.

By one in the morning, Joe was totally distressed by the absence of unity with his brothers. He felt they harbored bad feelings toward him due to his insistence on letting the two Indians tend to their father. It was at this point that Joe dropped his head down to his knees and began to sob. He agonized over the possibility that he might have done more damage in trying to help his father and perhaps even speeded up the infection and blood loss. Joe could not stand that assumption and felt he’d never be able to live with himself if that proved to be the case. He also knew that his brothers would never forgive him for doing that.

As the sobs, muffled by the presence of the blanket Joe clung to, became more apparent, his older brothers looked at each other. Neither of them could stand to see the anguish, which now consumed their little brother.

Almost in unison, Adam and Hoss arose from their seats and neared Joe. They plopped right down on the floor at either side of the boy. Joe didn’t look up even though he now felt their presence next to him. He was too ashamed of what he had done to the family. Joe knew Pa would want them all to stick together in a crisis and he had done just the opposite. He had pushed his brothers away, and at gunpoint.

“Short Shanks,” Hoss began and threw his arm around Joe’s trembling shoulders. “We ain’t mad at you. Matter of fact we expected you to do something. You always have kept us on our toes! Right, Adam?” Hoss looked to his older brother to join in and help calm the frightened boy.

Adam frowned. He still wasn’t happy about his little brother’s behavior, but could see how it was tearing him up inside. He broke in by slinging his arm over the other side of Joe’s shoulder. “That’s right, Kid. We never ever know what you are gonna do next. You have been a pure caution since the first day we laid eyes on you.”

“Pa would be so mad with me,” Joe responded, his voice breaking as he spoke.

“No, Joe, Pa would expect it from you. You always did get away with everything! Pa would’ve plum thrown both Adam and me both off this ranch if we pulled half the stunts you have in your short lifetime! I think you were always Pa’s greatest challenge.”

“And the one he loved best,” Adam interjected. That statement made Joe finally look at his two brothers in disbelief.

“That’s just not true, Adam! He always loved you two the best. You were the ones who helped him build the Ponderosa. I’ve always just been the disobedient son.” Joe was insistent, as that was what he truly had believed.

“No, Joe.” Hoss squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “You have always been Pa’s favorite. Guess cause you are just so dadburn cute!” Hoss jabbed Joe in the ribs playfully.

“Cute? Is that what you think? I’m cute?” Joe cracked a small smile at his big brother. To that Adam had to jump in.

“You know it‑‑c’mon now. You have used it to the hilt too! You always turn those hazel eyes on Pa when you are in a mess, and he caves right in!” Adam teased.

“I still think you both are Pa’s favorites anyway. Yeah I do have the looks‑‑no denying that.” Joe shot back a grin at his oldest brother.

“And modest‑‑don’t forget that trait,” Adam replied and threw the blanket over Joe’s head playfully.

The sound brought them all back to reality. Ben moaned softly as though he was going to come around. The three sons jumped to their feet and neared the bed. There was no more sound and Ben must have drifted right back under.

Joe looked at Adam and the tears started again. “I’m sorry. I never meant to cause Pa a setback. I only thought that Eagle Feather could help save him.” Joe apologized to both of his brothers and then dropped his head down, ashamed.

“The verdict isn’t in on that yet, Joe. And neither of us fault you for trying your best to save Pa. I think Pa would be the last person to be mad at you for that. He would expect it of his baby son.” Adam put his hand on Joe’s shoulder to let him know he did forgive him.

“I didn’t have any bullets in my gun. I would never shoot you two. But, I thought it was the only way that I could help Pa.”

Hoss smiled over at Adam and winked at him. Joe had confessed about the gun so they wouldn’t bother to tell him that they had already checked the weapon and learned his secret.

“Let’s get comfortable. It’s gonna be another long night.” Hoss said and they all walked back to their prior positions on the floor. Joe leaned back against the wall and then looked directly at Adam.

“Baby son? Did you call me baby son a minute ago? I hate it when you do that, Adam!” Joe protested.

Adam threw a fake punch at Joe’s chin and replied, “Yeah, I know. That’s why I said it.”

Joe looked at each of his brothers and sighed, knowing they had forgiven him. He leaned into their arms and fell asleep.

Hop Sing glided softly into the room, a tray bearing a pitcher of water and a pot of tea clutched tightly in his hands. He saw Little Joe sleeping with his head on the bed, while Hoss was snoring gently in his chair. As he set the tray on the bedside table, the Oriental servant caught the eye of the oldest son of the household. Adam nodded his thanks for the tray. Hop Sing patted him on the shoulder. “You go to sleep too, Mr. Adam,” he murmured. “Hop Sing will watch over Mr. Cartwright.”

Adam looked as if he was going to refuse the offer, but Hop Sing was insistent. “No, Mr. Adam,” he said firmly. “You do your father no good if you make yourself sick. Get some rest.” With that Hop Sing took up a position on the other side of the bed, a cool cloth in his hand as he bathed Ben’s fevered brow.

Adam smiled at the faithful servant and realized that the man was right. He was exhausted and a few minutes sleep would feel good. He allowed his eyes to close and almost immediately drifted into a light doze.

The dark-haired man’s sleep deepened, and images began to flicker and play in his mind. At first, scattered and incoherent, they left little impression on him. But then they began to focus and gain in intensity. Adam saw his father grin as he looked back over his shoulder. They pushed their way together through the underbrush, the big cat’s tracks plainly visible in the soft soil. The thrill of the chase was making itself apparent in both men, and they once again exchanged smiles.

As if it were happening all over again, Adam saw his father’s eyes widen in excitement at the flicker of movement on the far side of the clearing. He watched the older man move quickly to overtake the fleeing animal, and then horror claimed him as Ben tripped over an unseen root. As Ben stumbled, his rifle flew from his fingers, circling in a graceful arc. Adam’s cry was drowned out by the roar of the gun as it impacted the ground. He once again saw his father fall to the ground, bright red seeping through the fingers that clutched at his stomach. Adam felt as if his feet were encased in lead as he tried to run forward to reach his father. Again and again he shouted his useless warning.

With a hoarse, incoherent cry, he jerked himself free of the clutching nightmare. Sitting up slowly, rubbing a shaky hand across his sweaty brow, Adam saw that his brothers still slept. Hop Sing looked at him in concern, but Adam waved him back to his seat. Standing slowly, he moved to stare sightlessly through the darkened window.

Ben Cartwright was in that in-between state, somewhere between life and death, when he saw a montage of his life pass before him. There were scenes of his youth and then onto his manhood and later moved forward in time to the marriage and deaths of each of his three wives, as if purposely, he fell into remembrances of the births of each of his sons.

He could see the young Adam as he held in his protective arms the infant Hoss as the wagon train headed west. He saw in the boy the intensity, which followed him into manhood. He watched as a collage of visions passed by quickly of his oldest son and all of his achievements. Ben remembered and saw so vividly Adam’s smile as he was allowed to teach school in Virginia City at only seventeen years old. He could see the pained expression in Adam’s young face as he had boarded the stagecoach which took him east and to college. He also saw the total expression of accomplishment as he had ridden up to the Ponderosa three years later, clasping his diploma in his right hand. Ben remembered the tears of joy that had fallen from his own eyes as he opened the front door to the ranch house to see his son was finally back and a full-grown man.

Next came colorful scenes of his middle son, Hoss. Ben saw the boy as he grew to massive size and watched as he fought to be recognized for his heart and not his brawn. Ben watched as Hoss had brought in his first foal and fought so very hard to keep the young horse alive. Ben saw other scenes of the tenderness that the big man displayed during his youth and later years especially with his two brothers and with each creature he would rescue and nurse back to health.

Finally, there were pictures of his little boy Joseph. He remembered lifting the child up in the air and listening to his unusual laughter as he squealed in delight from the attention. He saw the curly headed boy and each of his wild adventures. He saw the antics that Joe had displayed as he hid his report card from his father’s view, only later to turn those deep hazel eyes on the man and beg for forgiveness. Ben saw the image of the youngster as he tossed him up on his new pony Cochise. He watched in amusement as Little Joe pranced around the front yard as if he was all grown and ready to ride with his brothers out to the herd. Ben remembered, oh so vividly, how the boy cried when his father would leave on a business trip. He could always see the worry on the boy’s face and later young man’s face as he wondered if his father would indeed return safely home. He hung onto that facial expression and somewhere deep inside, Ben he fought to somehow come back to the youngest son who still needed him so much.

Roy Coffee tossed down the day’s paper angrily. There in the Territorial Enterprise, the caption read: Ben Cartwright Nears Death. He had read the long article as he sipped his morning coffee. It heralded Ben as one of the most prominent citizens that Virginia City had ever known. It went on to list his major accomplishments and then finished with a list of the man’s heirs.

“They got him dead already,” Roy muttered, disturbed at the thought. Roy knew what he had to do, and would be off to the Ponderosa just as soon as deputy Clem Foster came in to relieve him. Roy had to see his old friend. He could not believe that a man that strong could possibly die.

Reverend Hastings saw Roy later that morning as he mounted his horse and turned the animal toward the Ponderosa. He, also, had read the paper and was determined to say his goodbyes to one of the strongest supporters of the church and a champion to the impoverished in all of Storey County. Ben was also one of Reverend Hastings’ oldest friends, and the first person he had met ten years prior when he became pastor of the church. Ben Cartwright’s willingness to aid the church and townsfolk in any time of trouble was visible from their very first meeting. Reverend Hastings walked towards the livery stable to board the carriage which would take him to the ranch house. He knew he needed to see Ben, but foremost, would be needed by the sons who

loved their father so much. Surely, he thought, they would need some spiritual advice at this awful time of tragedy.

And so, the procession of visitors to the Ponderosa ranch began. Adam let Roy in and welcomed the man whom he had known most of his life. Roy squinched his eyes as he looked Adam over. He wondered what exactly he could say at this point that would be comforting. Finally, rather than words, the sheriff gave him a brief bearhug, which Adam returned.

“How you doing, Adam?” Roy whispered.

Adam sighed. He had not slept much as his haunted dreams had caused him to fear falling back to sleep. “Good as can be expected I guess.” He nodded wearily.

“And Hoss and Little Joe?”

“Hoss is having a hard time. And don’t even get me started on Joe. The boy has been out of control.” Adam thought back on the previous day and all that his little brother had put him through.

“I just had to come. I couldn’t believe it! Is Doc sure that your Pa isn’t going to make it? Isn’t there something that can be done?” Roy’s voice was softer than usual and his face showed signs of the strain he was feeling.

Adam shook his head sadly. “Doc says it’s only a matter of time now. Actually he didn’t think Pa would make it past yesterday. But, he’s hanging on somehow.”

“It’s you boys‑‑you know that! He doesn’t want to leave you and he’s fighting as hard as he can.”

“You are probably right, Roy. But, I don’t want him to suffer anymore. If Joe had his way he’d keep him like this forever. But, Pa wouldn’t want to be like this.”

Roy patted Adam’s shoulder, understanding all he had said. “Joe is still just a boy. Oh he acts tough all right. I’ve locked him up a time or two you know? But, he is so attached to Ben, it’s gonna break his heart when he‑‑” Roy trailed off not being able to voice the words.

“You want to see him?” Adam offered and Roy nodded.

“If you don’t think I’d be intruding,” he replied.

Adam managed a slight smile and grabbed the sheriff’s arm, pulling him towards the staircase. “Pa would be madder than a wet hen if he knew I’d kept his best friend away.”

Adam and Roy had just made it into Ben’s bedroom just as Hop Sing was ranting in Chinese at both Hoss and Joe.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked sharply. He did not want any more trouble from Joe, or from Hoss for that matter.

“You tell Mister Hoss and Little Joe to go down and eat their breakfast. Hop Sing work hard to make sure they have a meal. Not eat at all yesterday. Mister Ben not want that!” Hop Sing fumed.

“That’s it, Boys.” Adam glared at them so hard that both of the younger brothers swallowed in unison. Sometimes Adam could be as commanding as their father and equally tough with punishment. “You two change your clothes, wash up and go have breakfast. I’m not playing here.” Adam walked in between the two other Cartwrights.

“I ain’t hungry.” Joe spat back. He was displaying some of the stubbornness that Ben had mentioned the previous day. Joe would not stand to be talked to like he was a kid, or at least not by his brother. Joe felt only Pa had the right to get tough with him.

“Then go sit at the table and play with your fork as far as I care. Just get out. Hoss, take Joe with you before I give him the punch in the jaw I owe him.”

Joe squared his shoulders and moved closer to Adam. His nerves were on edge due to the worry about his father and the helplessness of the situation. He wanted a fight; the pain he was feeling far outweighed anything that Adam could do to him.

Without a warning, suddenly Joe was lifted high into the air by the brute strength of his brother Hoss. “C’mon, Shorty‑‑time for breakfast.” Hoss carried the still protesting Joe out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Roy wore a wry smile as he saw the twinkle back in Adam’s dark eyes. Roy knew how much Adam loved his little brother, but that never stopped him from fighting with him to try and keep him in line. Roy thought on how that would have to be even more so now with the passing of Ben.

Both Adam and Roy neared the unmoving figure on the bed. Roy dragged the chair closer and reached out to touch Ben’s arm. “Ben Cartwright, why’d you go and get yourself shot? You know we have our cribbage game tonight. You ain’t gonna get out of it either. I have to win back some of the money you stole from me the last time. This just ain’t fair, not fair at all.”

Adam had to turn his head, his tears had broken loose after watching the two old friends and the peculiar way that Roy was saying his goodbyes. He could see the anguish on Roy’s solemn face as he continued. “Now how am I gonna keep Virginia City in line if you go and leave me? This is a purely selfish thing, Ben. I know you can hear me, too‑‑so you think on it. And these three rough‑necks of yours‑‑they’ll be constant prisoners in my jail if you ain’t around to keep them in line. So, what I want you to do is fight with all that Dad Gum stubborness that has kept you here. Keep fighting your way back, Old Friend. The world can’t do without Ben Cartwright.”

Roy stood and turned towards the door. He could not take the scene anymore and wanted to leave before he, himself, broke down. Roy figured the boys didn’t need to witness that. “You need anything, anything at all, you just send for me, Adam,” Roy whispered and left the room.

Hoss had a time of getting his little brother to eat, but felt satisfied that Joe did manage to get down some toast and coffee. Hoss had no appetite, something which would have sent a round of laughter by his brothers had it been any time but the present. He swallowed some eggs and ate a piece of bacon and drank coffee. Hop Sing watched silently from the kitchen and his heart melted at the sight of the two young men. He remembered how they had been before the accident. Still praying that they would somehow be okay, he walked back into the kitchen.

Reverend Hastings had passed Roy on the road and they had talked briefly. So, the preacher was very aware of what kind of situation he was entering into when he knocked on the ranch house door. Hoss strode over to answer the door and led the reverend inside.

“Hoss, I came as soon as I found out. What can I do for you boys?”

Hoss dropped his head down caught in despair. “I don’t reckon there’s anything you can do, Rev.”

Joe, hearing what was being said in the livingroom, walked over to stare into the preacher’s eyes. He flashed both anger and terror out of his green eyes as he looked at the reverend. “Yeah‑‑there is something you can do. Go tell your God that we aren’t ready to let him take our father. Can you do that?” Joe’s remarks were chock full of bitterness and the reverend could see the anguish had taken over the young man.

“Joseph, your father is in God’s hands now. Pray for his safe keeping and know that the Lord will protect him and take all of his pain away.” The Reverend spoke out in kindness but found his words to roll off the boy.

“What kind of a God would take Pa from us now, when we need him so much?” Joe fired back, untouched by the man’s wise words.

The Reverend put his hand gently on Joe’s shoulder and looked into his angry eyes. “The same God who gave him to you in the first place. The years you have spent with him were good ones. And, no father I have ever known has shown as much love to his sons as yours has.”

Joe sank down onto the settee and cradled his head in his hands and wept. Hoss was quick to go to the boy and offer him his shoulder. The Reverend smiled at the sight, sure that somehow the three Cartwright sons would group together to comfort each other.

“Would you mind me seeing your father?” he asked and saw Hoss nod.

“You go on up,” Hoss replied still holding his brother in his arms.

The Reverend sat down in the chair earlier vacated by Roy and stared at the man who had always seemed so full of life. He prayed for Ben. Adam walked over to the man and knelt down next to him.

“Reverend, while you are praying for my father‑‑send some prayers for my brothers, will you? They are going to need them.” Adam whispered.

The reverend smiled at the oldest son and answered, “I have been praying for each one of you, Adam. I know that you, being the oldest, have the brunt of the burden now. I have asked God to give you all the strength you will need to carry on all that your father started. And, I have every confidence that you will make your father proud.”

“Thank you.” Adam said softly and he, too, bowed his head to pray.

During the course of that long day, many people visited the Cartwright family. So many townsfolk and settlers to the Carson Valley had been helped along the way by the kindness of Ben Cartwright, that they came in droves. Whether it was to drop by a pie, or sit with the sons or just a quick hello, they all made their presence known. This stood as the biggest testimony to Ben’s life, that he had lived as he had taught his boys. He helped all those who needed a kind word or a stake to start a ranch, it didn’t matter. Ben had lived the Golden Rule. He had done unto others as he wanted them to do unto him and his sons.

When at last the last visitor had left for the evening, the three brothers stood by the massive fireplace deep in thought. Each one had heard at least a little something new that day, and was totally amazed by all that their father had done over the years. So many acts of kindness along with bravery, and all never mentioned by Ben to his boys. All three sons felt humbled by all that their father had accomplished and each one knew that Ben

was going to a place where he would be rewarded for what he had done. That helped a little, but, there was that part of each one of their hearts that refused to say a final goodbye to the man who still held on to life upstairs.

Paul Martin strode purposefully down the staircase toward the great room. He stood before the hearth and gratefully held his hands before the warming flames. At the sound of footsteps, he turned quickly. Adam and Hoss descended the steps and headed for the doctor. Hop Sing appeared from the kitchen, bearing a tray that held a pot of coffee and three cups. Paul smiled as he gratefully accepted a cup of the strong brew; Hop Sing always knew what was needed and when in that household.

“Well?” Adam struggled to keep his voice level, but it was a losing battle. His anxiety was clear for all to see.

“Yeah, Doc,” Hoss chimed in. “Is Pa any better since Joe had them Indians in there? Or worse?” The broad face was creased by a worried frown and the blue eyes held the shadow of exhaustion.

Paul sighed wearily and rubbed a tired hand across his chin. “I can’t explain it, boys,” he answered carefully. “Truthfully, I expected your father to be gone by now. With the internal bleeding and the infection, he shouldn’t be lying in that bed upstairs. I don’t know if it’s the work of Joe’s friends, or just Ben’s sheer stubbornness that’s keeping him alive right now.” Paul gazed at the other men thoughtfully. “He’s no better, but he’s no worse either. And he’s still alive. I’d say that might just be the best news I can give you right now.”

“So, he’s going to be all right?” A sudden surge of hope flared in Adam’s face, wiping the tiredness away as if by magic.

Paul shook his head, his hand straying to Adam’s shoulder for a sympathetic squeeze. “I didn’t say that, Adam. I said he’s still alive. To me, that’s almost a miracle. I don’t want to give you any false hopes. Your father is still in grave danger of losing his life. I’d be lying if I told you anything different. I’m sorry.”

The hope died from Adam’s face, leaving behind a stoic mask. He turned abruptly and strode to the big front door. Yanking it open, he walked out to the porch, where he stood leaning on the railing. He gazed at the house and yard, down to the corral where several horses milled about in anticipation of their daily work-out. His father had worked so hard to build up his empire. It just wouldn’t be the same without the big, silver-haired man at the helm. Squeezing his eyes shut, Adam tried to quell the sudden surge of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He wasn’t ready to fill those shoes.

A big hand dropped to his shoulder, startling Adam from his reverie. He looked up to meet a pair of blue eyes that were brimming over with tears. “He’s come this far, Adam. Mebbe he can keep fightin’. He’s sure a strong-willed man.”

Adam leaned into his younger brother’s strong hand momentarily. It wasn’t often that he let himself slip into the role of the comforted, rather than the comforter. But just this once he couldn’t resist letting Hoss carry the burden if only for a little while. The two men were still standing together when the doctor slipped past them to his buggy. Both nodded in farewell, but didn’t move from their positions.

Joe had once more fallen into a light sleep, with his forehead lying on the top of his father’s bed as close as he could to still hear the faint breathing. Ben slowly and with great effort fought to open his eyes. The room was dark other than the dimly lit lamp on the night stand. Ben blinked to clear his vision and noticed his youngest son slumbering next to him. He reached over, placed his right hand on the boy’s head, and brushed back Joe’s hair.

Joe thought he was dreaming. As if memories of his father’s touch had crept into his deep subconscious. Joe knew it had to be that and not the loving hand of the father who was dying next to him. A faint stir in the bed and a muffled cough brought Joe back to reality. He looked up and caught sight of his father now with his eyes wide open.

“Pa!” Joe exclaimed and grabbed the hand, which had been affectionately stroking his head. “Pa, you’re awake!”

Ben saw his youngest son’s eyes flash with excitement and he tried to talk but found himself to be too hoarse to utter a word. Joe, sensing this, brought a glass of water up to his father’s lips, and Ben drank of its contents and rested his head back on his pillow. “You look like you could use some sleep, son,” Ben whispered and managed a brief but meaningful grin.

“Oh, Pa,” was all Joe could get out before his emotions took charge and he gingerly hugged his father.

Adam and Hoss felt a mutual need to be at their father’s side and, as one, they walked through the house and up the stairs. When they entered Ben’s room, they saw Joe standing by his bedside, his eyes wild, his face flushed with some strong emotion. Adam’s heart caught in his throat and he crossed the room in two long strides. Was his father gone?

Hoss stood by the doorway, unable to move. From the way Joe stood by his father’s bedside, Hoss feared the worse. The realization that he might really have to face the world without his father’s support and guidance sent the blood from his head in a dizzy rush. He swayed and gripped the doorframe with his large hand.

Adam bent over the bed, his eyes intent on his father’s face. He gasped when he saw that Ben’s eyes were open. “Pa!” He reached impulsively for Ben’s hand and grasped it between his own. “Pa, you’re awake!”

Hoss looked up quickly at Adam’s words, almost afraid that he was imagining things. His eyes widened when he saw Adam clutching at Ben’s hand and saw his father’s corresponding smile. Quickly he joined his brothers at their father’s bedside. A broad smile rimmed his face as he quickly surveyed the scene. Reaching out with a shaky hand, he gently touched Ben’s shoulder. “Pa, it’s good to see ya’ awake again. How’re ya feeling?”

Ben smiled weakly. “Never better,” he rasped out, and was then racked by a fit of coughing. He wrenched his hand from Adam’s to clutch at his wounded abdomen.

Adam turned to Joe, concern written on his face. “Joe, send a hand after the Doc, he can’t have gotten too far. Tell him to get back here as quickly as he can. Pa needs him!”

Joe turned and almost flew out the door. He dashed into the yard, grabbing the first hand he saw. Having dispatched the man on his errand, he immediately returned to Ben’s bedroom, determined that he wasn’t going to be pried from his father’s side again.

Doctor Paul Martin was more than sixty years old, but you wouldn’t have known it that night. With the spring in his step of a teenager, he jogged across the living room of the ranch house and made it up the stairs in double time. His thoughts were swirling in his head. He expected to be summoned back to the house, but with the news of Ben’s passing and not that he had come back around. Paul fought in his mind not to lose sight of the fact that occasionally a patient who is dying does regain consciousness one more time before drifting away. He prayed that wasn’t the case now.

Opening the door to Ben’s room he saw the elated faces of all Ben’s sons who were gathered like a circle of hope around their father. “Give me some room, boys,” Paul said, and the Cartwright brothers stepped back to let the doctor conduct his examination.

Paul could see the start of color coming back in Ben’s face and the grimace which had been on it had faded away. Next, he checked Ben’s pulse and then his incision. All signs of infection had miraculously vanished.

Paul stared into the questioning faces of Hoss, Adam and Joe. A broad smile entertained his face as he spoke to them all. “I don’t know how, but it would appear that your father is coming back to us. You are one tough old bird, Ben. You scared the devil out of all of us,” Paul chided his friend, unable to control the joy on his face and the sparkle in his eyes.

“Maybe I just had a good doctor,” Ben whispered, trying to conserve his strength.

“Maybe you had several good doctors,” Paul laughed and winked at Joe.

“What?” Ben asked confused by what Paul had said.

“Later. Right now let’s just get some liquids in you.” The doctor poured some more water and held the back of Ben’s head as he drank.

The room filled with an intensity of joy that could not be described. Each brother took turns hugging one another and the enormous weight on their shoulders was lifted and cast once more on the head of the Cartwright clan.

“Now, you aren’t completely out of the woods yet, Ben. You need lots of rest.” Paul turned toward the brothers and looked directly into their eyes. “You boys don’t wear your father out with a lot of talk right now. Let’s keep him calm, and tomorrow you can chat.”

All of Ben’s sons frowned. They had so much they wanted to tell their father that they felt their hearts would burst if they didn’t get the chance to do just that. Knowing that the doctor was right, they finally nodded toward him.

“But, I’m not leaving,” Joe spoke up anxiously, he was afraid that the doctor had plans to get all visitors to stay away, including Ben’s own sons.

“Do you see that, Ben? This is what I have been contending with for the last several days. These boys of yours are just as stubborn as their father!” Paul laughed. “Okay, you three can stay in here as long as you let your father rest, understood?”

Without a reply, Hoss and Adam sat down in the two chairs by the bed and Joe took his familiar place on the floor.

The bright chatter of the morning birds filled the room. Ben stirred on his pillows and groggily opened his eyes. The vision that met his bleary gaze brought a soft smile to his lips. Joe lay curled up under a blanket on the floor by his father’s side, while Hoss slept soundly, tipped back in a chair with his feet propped up on the blanketed foot of the big four-poster. Adam was in a third chair by the window, the morning sun flickering on his tired face. Clearly all three sons had been unable to tear themselves from their father’s side during the night.

The soft click of the door being opened brought Ben’s attention to the little man who entered bearing a loaded tray. He nodded a greeting to the faithful family retainer, and Hop Sing returned it cheerfully. The Oriental began to bustle about the injured man’s bed, adjusting pillows and fluffing blankets, all the while keeping up a soft patter under his breath. Allowing for translation difficulties, Ben caught the gist of the man’s speech about lazy men who stayed in bed until late hours and expected other people to wait on them hand and foot. His laugh, rusty from long disuse, filled the air, startling the sleeping men awake.

Instinctively three pairs of eyes tracked to the bed where the man who held their hearts lay. It was clear that while Ben was still far from well, he was on the mend. The boys held their breath in sympathy as Ben winced and sucked in a deep gasp of air as Hop Sing assisted him to a sitting position. When the little man had his employer arranged to his satisfaction, he picked up the bowl of broth, ready to commence breakfast. Seeing that he had a rapt audience, Hop Sing let loose with a spate of Chinese and forcibly removed the faithful sons from the room. He sent them to the breakfast he had laid out for them on the big table in the dining room, and a quick wash in the bath house. It was clear that Hop Sing had the situation well in hand, and the three men allowed themselves to be herded from the room, but not before each had bestowed a greeting upon their father.

Much later, and feeling more refreshed, the three Cartwright sons again gathered around their father’s bedside. Ben, too, looked better than he had at any other time during his long ordeal. The boys vied with each other to fill their father in on the events of ranch life that had occurred during his illness, skirting the long, tense days they had spent waiting for their father’s death. Adam kept a careful eye on his father’s face, waiting for some sign that the older man was tiring and needed rest. Joe felt no such compulsion and chattered like a magpie. He perched like a small boy at the head of the bed, while Ben half-sat propped against a stack of pillows, another pillow carefully placed to cushion his wound.

A break in the conversation allowed Ben to finally get a word in edgewise. His smile dimmed a little and he took a deep breath. “Boys,” he began soberly. “I overheard something while I was ill, and it’s been worrying me. I don’t think it was a dream but everything is a little muddled about that time.”

Hoss and Adam exchanged worried glances, while Joe’s face was a study in guilt. Joe’s thoughts had flown immediately to his adventure with the Indians and the fact that he had pulled a gun on his brothers. If Pa knew…. Joe swallowed and turned huge eyes toward his father. “Pa, I can explain,” he began shakily. “It’s like this…”

Ben peremptorily raised his hand to cut off the flow of words. “Hear me out, Joseph,” he said sternly, waving the boy to silence. “Hoss, bring me that box on my dresser.”

Hoss carefully brought his father a carved wooden chest that had graced his father’s dresser for more years than he could remember. He laid it reverently in his father’s lap, taking care that it didn’t press against the still-tender wound. He positioned himself near his father in case the older man needed his aid again.

Ben smiled up at the boy who perched at his side. “It seems awful strange to me to be on this side of the bed, Joseph. Isn’t it usually you who is struggling through a life and death crisis?” The boys burst out laughing and some of the tension left the room. Ben sobered quickly though, and he lovingly fingered the finely carved wood of the small chest.

All three boys watched their father, as he reverently opened the lid of the box. With a dreamy smile playing about his lips, and a tender look in his eye, he began to pull a small assortment of objects from the box.

Adam caught his breath as the first thing his father pulled from the small chest was a bundle of letters tied with a blue ribbon. He handed them to his oldest son, and Adam saw it was a collection of every letter he had written to his father while he was away at college. Not one was missing. Next out of the box was an assortment of award ribbons and other accolades, all proudly emblazoned with the name Adam Cartwright. Every one had been won or granted while Adam was at school. They ranged from his first prize in a spelling contest to the awards he had won at the prestigious school in the East. He fingered them, awed that his father had kept every one. He smiled peacefully at his father, a soft glow kindled in his heart as he realized how much his father cared for him.

Hoss and Joe had watched the bundles coming from the box as well. While Hoss smiled at the symbols of Adam’s achievements in life, Joe simmered with a quiet jealousy. His father truly must love Adam best when he so carefully hoarded all these trophies of Adam’s stellar life.

Sensing the turbulence in the atmosphere, Ben again pulled a series of items from the box. Hoss began to chuckle when he saw that his father held a handful of blue ribbons, all prizes that Hoss had won at the various country fairs for animals that he had carefully bred and tended. As Hoss looked through the soft pile of ribbons, memories shifted, surged and receded, only to be replaced by another, like waves breaking on the shore. He smiled through a haze of tears at the fond look Ben was giving him. Ducking his head, Hoss tried to surreptitiously wipe away the moisture, but then with a quick “aw shucks” he just pulled out a huge handkerchief and blew hard. Laughter filled the room at the typical Hoss-like gesture.

Now Joe turned expectant eyes on his father, waiting to see what other treasures would emerge from the depths of the box. He turned questioning eyes toward the silver-haired man when a single report card emerged from the bottom of the box. It was emblazoned with a resounding series of failing grades. The boys looked at each other wonderingly. Adam’s accolades and Hoss’s ribbons were certainly understandable. Why on earth would Ben Cartwright save a report card emblazoned with big, red F’s. Joe’s temper started to rise, and he made a move to rise from the bed. He was checked by his father’s large hand.

“I saved all of these things because they remind me of the best of each of you. I look at them while you are away on business, or any time I need a little boosting of my spirits, and I think of you.” Ben’s eyes were filled with the love he held for each of his sons, as he laid a gentle hand on his assortment of memories.

Joe couldn’t control his temper any longer. “But Pa,” he said, his eyes blazing. “I can see why you’ve got all of Adam’s awards and letters, and it’s certainly understandable why you kept Hoss’s ribbons.” He gestured contemptuously at the single failing report card. “But why this for me!” Joe turned his head to hide the hurt that was trying to overtake him.

Ben reached gently for Joe’s chin and tipped the sullen face toward his. “Because Joe, this was the last time you ever received a failing grade in any class at school. You and I sat and had a long talk after this report came home, and because of a promise you made to me that day, you never failed another class again.” Ben chuckled softly. “Came close a couple of times, I think, but you didn’t fail. You honored your promise to me, son. And that shows me your true spirit. I think of that when I see this report card.”

Joe’s eyes were wet with tears and he bowed his head until it touched his father’s forehead. “Thank you, Pa,” he whispered. “I understand now, I think.”

Adam spoke softly. “I didn’t realize that you’d kept all of these things, Pa. They’re very nice and full of a lot of memories, but what do they have to do with your illness?”

Ben sighed and scrubbed a tired hand over his eyes. “I thought I overheard you boys arguing over who was my favorite son. I’m getting very tired of trying to convince you that you don’t need to worry about that. So I’m going to settle this once and for all, and then I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

He fixed a glare on his oldest son. “You, Adam, are my favorite…” Ben’s voice stopped and a gasp was heard from both Hoss and Joe. “My favorite OLDEST son.” Ben laughed and squeezed the hand that Adam held out to him.

“Thanks, Pa, I’m honored,” Adam quipped.

The coffee-colored eyes turned to Hoss, who squirmed in his chair in response. “You, Hoss are my favorite….”. Again the mellow voice paused. “My favorite MIDDLE son.” Hoss’s booming laugh filled the air, and he again dipped his head, a blush staining his cheeks.

Ben continued after a brief pause, his eyes seeking his youngest son, who glared back at him with indignant green eyes. “And you, Joseph.” This time the pause was even longer. “You are my favorite DISOBEDIENT son.”

The three boys broke out into helpless laughter, while Little Joe’s distinctive cackle lit up the whole room. When the mirth had finally subsided, Ben looked lovingly at each of them. “You are all so different, and yet I love you all so much. You bring me so much joy. How could I possibly tell you which of you is my favorite. You are like three different plants grown in a beautiful garden. Does the gardener love one more than the other? Or does he love them each for the unique qualities that they bring to life?” He looked with pride on his crop and fixed a mock scowl on his face. “Now, why are you boys all hanging around in here with a sick old man? We have a ranch to run. You’ve been neglecting it shamefully, for far too long. Get to work, all of you. I’ll be fine here with Hop Sing.” He made little shooing motions with his hands, and his sons reluctantly responded.

Adam stopped to once again squeeze his father’s hand in a brief clasp, while Hoss contented himself with a gentle pat on the man’s shoulder. Joe lingered a moment to help his father gather his collection of memories together and replaced them in the box. As the door shut behind his brothers, he smiled happily at his father. “It’s good to have you back, Pa,” he said, his heart in his eyes as spoke.

Ben’s answering smile was like a ray of sunshine to the boy. “I have something else to talk to you about, Joseph,” he said quietly. “I know what you did with the Indians. I’m not happy about you holding a gun on your brothers.”

Joe gasped in shock, his eyes wide with horror. “I… I …I didn’t know you knew about that, Pa,” he stammered miserably. “I’m sorry. I was just so frightened, and I couldn’t stand the thought of just letting you slip away from us without a fight. I had to get help for you, Pa, I had too.” Joe’s voice rose toward the end of his speech, his eyes were dark and passionate.

His father’s voice was deep with understanding. “I know, son,” he replied simply. “Just as I would have fought for you. But your brothers are not your enemies, Joe. You should have let them help you in your fight, not considered them an obstacle to overcome.”

Joe drooped, his expressive eyes betraying his unhappiness. “I know, Pa. I’ve felt badly since it happened. I know that they love you too, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Will you forgive me?”

Ben reached out and patted Joe’s hand. “Of course, I forgive you, Joseph. If it wasn’t for you and Winnemucca’s men I wouldn’t be here. You did what you thought you had to.” He pointed to the door. “Now get out of here, son. Your brothers will be waiting for you.”

Joe laughed and turned for the door. A sudden thought illuminated his mind, and he turned back swiftly. “Hey, Pa, now that it’s just you and me, will you tell me something?”

Ben hesitated. “That depends on what you want to know, Joe.”

Joe grinned cheekily. “I am your favorite son, aren’t I, Pa?”

Ben laughed and winked at the curly-haired boy. “Here.” Ben held out something in the palm of his hand and offered it to his youngest son. “There was one more item in that box.” Joe took the small piece of foil and opened it to reveal what was inside of it. He saw it contained one small lock of curly hair. Joe looked into his father’s eyes, a perplexed look on his face. “Your first haircut.” Ben remarked and saw Joe’s face show perfect contentment. “Now what were you asking me?” Ben grinned.

“I’ve got my answer now.” Joe laughed and gave his father a hug. Joe turned with a spring in his step out of the room, his wicked giggle drifting back through the open door.

Ben smiled and snuggled a little deeper into his quilts. It was good to be alive.

Epilogue

It was a week later; night had fallen hours earlier. The household had long since settled in for the night. While Ben was recovering nicely, much to the continued amazement of the doctor, all of his sons were still worried about him. They found many excuses to check on him throughout the day; Little Joe occasionally simply refused to leave the bedroom when ordered to do so. When Adam left his room, lamp in hand, he wasn’t surprised to see Hoss creeping down the hallway ahead of him.

“I see you’ve got the same idea that I have, younger brother,” he whispered quietly.

Hoss jumped and almost dropped the candle he was holding in his large hand. “Dadburnit, Adam, don’t sneak up on me, like that,” he complained in a loud whisper. “You scared a year’s growth right outta me.”

Adam chuckled quietly. “I don’t think you’ll miss it,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye. “Going to check on Pa?”

Hoss shrugged sheepishly. “Yep, I’ve been sneaking in most nights to make sure he’s okay. Cain’t help it, Adam.”

Adam patted his brother on the back. “You don’t need to look so worried about it, Hoss. Where do you think I’m going?”

Comprehension dawned in the broad face, and Hoss quickly bit back the laugh that threatened to erupt. With a conspiratory wink, he softly opened the door to their father’s room. The room was dark and shrouded with shadows. As the two men approached the bed, they were surprised to see a pair of eyes looking back at them.

“What are you boys up to now?” Ben asked in a whisper, the shadows concealing his urgent desire to laugh at the two grown men who looked like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Just checking to make sure you’re all right, Pa,” Adam admitted ruefully. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t really asleep, son. Just lying here thinking.” Ben’s voice was mellow and he smiled at his children. “I’m really all right, boys. You don’t need to keep such a close eye on me.”

“Dadburnit, Pa. We almost lost ya. That does somethin’ to a man.” Hoss’s voice rose in protest, but he hushed it quickly at his father’s quickly raised hand.

It was then that Adam spied the sleeping form of their youngest brother. He was lying in his familiar spot, next to their father’s bed, carefully wrapped in a blanket to ward off the chill. A soft smile leapt to Adam’s lips, and he raised his eyes to meet his father’s. “What’s he doing in here?” he asked quietly.

“Oh, he snuck in here a couple of hours ago,” Ben replied in a whisper. “I pretended I was asleep, and he curled up there on the floor. He’s been doing it every night.”

“I’ll haul him back to his bed, Pa. He cain’t be too comfortable there on the floor,” Hoss offered. He bent to pick up his sleeping brother.

“No!” Ben’s voice stopped Hoss’s movement. “It’s all right, Hoss, leave him. One more night won’t matter. I think it’ll do us both good.”

Hoss and Adam exchanged a telling glance. They knew full well that their father couldn’t deny Joe the comfort of his presence. Bidding him a soft good night they crept from the room. Ben settled back into the bed with a sigh of contentment. He drifted off to sleep with the peaceful knowledge that all was right with his world.

The End

Written by Wrangler and Karen Fedderly

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Tags:  Family, Joe / Little Joe Cartwright