Summary: Little Joe couldn’t believe it when Pa turned his back and walked away. Adam had been injured and it was Joe’s fault and Ben refused to get him out of the charges or even post bail. Now after six weeks in the Virginia City jail Joe must face Pa for the first time and make a tough decision about his future. A lesson about love, the tough kind.
Rating T  (word count 21,290)

Ever With You

And he said, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.  Luke 15:31

Hoss Cartwright sat on the settee in the living room of the Ponderosa ranch house and studied the checkerboard spread out on the coffee table in front of him.  His eyes peered up at his little brother suspiciously.  Hoss knew that the black checkers, those belonging to him that game, had suddenly taken different positions on the board.

“Adam?” Hoss called over to his other brother, who had been reading a new novel.  “Did you watch this board while I was in the kitchen a minute ago like I asked you?”

“Yep,” Adam returned and fought off a grin.  “Why?”

“You know WHY!” Hoss sang out, and stared back and forth between both of his brothers.  “Joe, I’m telling you right now, you’re gonna get it!”

“Oh, Hoss,” Joe called over and tried to feign hurt, “I know you’re not accusing me of cheating, are you?”

“Yes, I am and this time you’ve gotten our brother to go along with it!”

“Now, Hoss,” Adam intervened.  He had to diffuse what he believed to be a fight coming on.  “You know that Joe cheats, so maybe you should either stop going to get food during a game or take the board with you.”

“I don’t cheat!” Joe argued.

“Well, then I don’t know what to call it,” Adam laughed.

“Come on, Hoss, I haven’t got all night, you going to play or not?”  Joe motioned towards the checkerboard.

Hoss grabbed the board and turned it around to take control of the red checkers.  “Yeah, go ahead, Joe!”

“Hey!  That’s not fair!”  Joe protested.

“Ain’t that the black checkers calling the black squares black,” Adam laughed over towards both brothers.  “Go and take him, Hoss!”

Hoss made the last two jumps and ended the checker match gleefully.   “There you go, Little Brother!   Now, how’s it feel to lose?”

Before Joe could respond they turned when they heard the front door open and saw their father walk inside.  He shrugged out of his coat and called hello to his sons.

“How did your meeting in town go, Pa?” Adam asked, as he stood and stretched.

“Fine, I got a lot taken care of.  How did it go with the branding?  Did the three of you boys get it all done?” Ben asked as he made his way over to the fireplace and eased down into his favorite chair.

“Well, I did most of the work, as usual!”  Joe sang out, grinning.

Hoss shook his head and tossed some checkers at his little brother.  “Sure, he did, Pa!  Little Joe worked real hard, almost made it two whole hours before running off.”

Ben waited for each of his sons to address what had happened that day before he would respond.  He was well aware of which of his sons would be the most apt to work diligently. 

“Okay, well, maybe I worked faster than these two older brothers of mine, but, I did work,” Joe attempted to partially fess up.

Ben cast a knowing glance over at his youngest and replied, “Joseph, I doubt you can brand fast without hurting the cattle.  You can just begin repairing fences to make up for the time you evidently didn’t put in today.  Oh, and before you go to do that assignment, you can get to the firewood.  You were supposed to get that done three days ago.  Remember?”

“Yes, Sir,” Joe replied, and then cast an angry sneer over to Hoss and Adam for ratting him out.  It was a typical thing that they had done, but then again, it was also typical for Joe to have shirked his duties.  He didn’t mind working, but he did mind being told what to do by both Adam and Hoss.  Joe finally calmed down a bit, relieved over the fact that his father didn’t appear to be too upset over his failure to put in a full day’s work.  He was happy to have a fence repair assignment where he would be on his own, instead of under the watchful eyes of both brothers.  Joe also knew that he had been reminded every day about needing to get the firewood cut and brought into the house.  He didn’t relish that task, and had hoped that his father would have relented and given the job to one of the ranch hands.  Now he knew that he’d have to eventually get it done.

“Is anything new going on in town, Pa?” Adam asked, changing the subject.  He had noticed the tired appearance on his father’s face.  He wondered if there was some kind of trouble going on in Virginia City.

Ben reached towards the coffee pot on the table and poured a cup before responding to his son’s question right away.   Easing back into his chair he finally answered, “I saw Roy for a bit.  Joseph — he had some news that you might want to hear.”

“What?”  Joe asked as he gathered the checkers and placed them back in the basket on the hearth.

“One of your old cell mates is dead.”

Joe drew in a deep breath and took a minute to ask, “Who was it, Pa?”

“It was Brock Davis, Joseph.  He was shot trying to rob a bank in Tucson.”

Both Adam and Hoss looked over at Joe and saw his face take on a peculiar appearance.  They were unsure if he showed shock or sorrow in his expression.

“I wish I could say I’m surprised, Pa.  But, now out of the five of us, it only leaves two now still alive, including me,” Joe responded sullenly.

Ben stared over at his youngest and he could tell that the news had affected him.  Joe had grown very quiet right after making his statement.  Ben wondered what was going on in his mind at the time.  Hoss and Adam noticed the change in their brother’s countenance too.  

“Joseph?” Pa finally tried to get the boy’s attention.  It had been several minutes since he had spoken.  Ben exchanged concerned glances with his other two sons.

“Hey, Joe — you still here with us?” Adam asked, as his hand reached out to his brother’s shoulder to shake him.

“Huh?” Joe said, breaking from his thoughts.

“You okay?” Hoss called to Joe as he watched the boy stand from the coffee table.

“Yeah — sure I am!” Joe sounded off, trying for a false bravado in his voice.  He wondered if they had spotted the glimmer of tears in his eyes.  Joe turned for a minute and put his hand up to his face, erasing any moisture.  He turned back and hurriedly called a good night to his family and quickly moved over to the staircase.

Ben’s worried gaze followed his youngest son up the stairs.  “I think it’s something that Joseph wants to forget, Boys.”

“I know, Pa.  It was a tough time for him,” Hoss agreed.

Adam reached for his father’s arm and patted it gently.  “The kid’s going to be okay, Pa.  He’ll probably be back to his normal ornery self in the morning.”  Adam remarked, hoping to ease his father’s mind, though he knew that they were all now thinking of a troubled time from the past.  Sometimes memories were hard to erase, especially bad ones.

Joe had fought to fall asleep, but all efforts had failed.  He couldn’t help the uneasiness he felt.  Joe could still see the look on Brock’s face the last time that he had seen the boy.  He was two years older than Joe, but he had led a hard life which made him appear much older.  Joe had seen him there in Virginia City and he had been swilling whiskey at the Silver Dollar Saloon.  Their conversation had been a short one, with the other young man telling Joe that he was leaving for bigger and better things.  Joe had noticed the new six-gun Brock had sported and knew that he had the intention of using it for things other than for protection.  He had watched Brock tip his hat, swing open the doors of the saloon, and then vaulted up onto his horse.  Joe somehow knew that day that it would be the last time he would ever see him.

Joe moved over to his bureau and dug into the top drawer seeking a little piece of cloth he had hidden there some two years prior.  No-one had known that he had saved the ripped piece of clothing, and Joe had preferred it that way.  His hands finally fell on it and Joe held it up and gazed at it.  It was just a faded light blue piece of twill, but the raised number which had been embroidered into the material was still there.  It was the number five, and it was an awful reminder of how Brock and Joe came to be prisoners there in the Virginia City Jail.  Joe sighed as he walked back to his bed and sat down.  He closed his eyes and it all came back to him, though he had tried for two years to forget everything that had happened.  Brock’s death had re-opened that old wound, and now Joe’s mind reflected back to the beginning.

“The kid’s hanging with the wrong type of friends!” Adam insisted, as he took a seat opposite his father in Ben’s study.  “I don’t trust any of those boys.”

Ben nodded towards his eldest son and sighed.  He was having trouble reeling Joe in lately.  The boy was at the awkward age, not quite a man, but not a little kid either.  “I know, Adam.  Ever since he got out of school last year, Joe’s been trying to find himself.  I’m afraid that just because he’ll soon be seventeen, he thinks he’s all grown up and can choose his own friends, without our opinions.”

“He has friends, like Mitch, good kids that we all know,” Adam replied, and shook his head, showing his worry.  “But, now he’s out with new companions and they’re all rowdy little cusses!  None of them put in a day’s work, and now that includes Little Joe too.  The kid was supposed to help Hoss today but never showed.  And, didn’t you tell Joe he was supposed to get to work on the firewood pile?  It hasn’t been touched in more than a week.”

Ben stood from his desk and placed his hand on Adam’s shoulder.  Pa could tell that he was upset over his little brother’s behavior and was also worried about Joseph.  “I’ll have a talk with him tonight after supper.  Just let me figure out how to try to get through to him this time, Son.”

“Okay, Pa, it’s not that I like coming in here all worked up about that ornery cuss. But, if you don’t get a handle on all of this I just don’t know what’s going to happen!  Hoss and I will try to disappear after dinner so you and Joe can have a talk.  Good luck,” Adam tried to cool off.   He reached over and patted his father’s arm in a show of support for all that his father would have to deal with in order to try to get through to his brother.

Joe looked suspiciously over at his brothers later that night as they ate their dinner.  Neither of them had made any mention of the fact that he hadn’t done any of his chores.  That was unlike both of them, but especially Adam.  It was always his oldest brother who was the most apt to chastise him in front of their father over his less than perfect record of doing as he had been told.  Joe’s eyes followed them as they both finished eating and headed right outside.  Joe knew he was being left alone at the table next to Pa on purpose.  There was surely a lecture forthcoming, and that was confirmed when Ben stood and told him to follow him into the study.

“Sit down, Joseph,” Ben pointed to a chair next to his desk.  He watched as the boy showed his displeasure with a frown and a sigh.  

“Okay, Pa, what did I do this time?” Joe asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“I think you know.  Now, why have you been leaving every day and not even attempting to do your chores?”

“Pa, it’s funny to me that the times that I really put in a full day of work I never hear anything about that.  But, just let me take off one day and everyone jumps on me about it,” Joe sang out angered.

Ben stood and walked around the desk and hovered there opposite his son.  “That’s not exactly true, Joseph.  I’ve always tried to let you know when I’ve thought you’ve done a good job.  But, lately, those times are few and far between.”

Joe shook his head and looked down at the floor.  “Well, I guess Adam’s been reporting in to you again, Pa.  Maybe HE should concentrate on his work and not spend his time following me and taking note of everything I do and don’t do.”

“Don’t you go shifting the blame, this is about you not your brother.  Now, why didn’t you help Hoss today like you were supposed to do?”

“Hoss didn’t need me to help him,” Joe retorted, upset over being put on the spot.

Ben folded his arms across his chest and stared down at his youngest.  “Joseph, I told you to go and help him.  That should’ve been enough for you to have done what you were supposed to do today.  But, instead I guess you were out hanging around those new friends of yours, right?”

“Here we go again,” Joe muttered under his breath.

Ben shot his son a warning look and the boy’s eyes once again tracked down to the floor and away from his father’s piercing stare.

“Okay — yeah I was out with my friends.  Now, I guess you’re gonna tell me that I’m hanging around the wrong kinds of companions again!”

“Maybe that’s because you are!  From what I know of those boys they aren’t exactly the kinds of friends who you need to spend time with.”

Joe stood and began to walk away, but his father’s right hand reached out and caught his elbow redirecting him back to the desk.

“C’mon, Pa!  You don’t choose the friends that Adam and Hoss hang around with.  So, why are you trying to choose mine?”

“Because you haven’t taken the time to think about what hanging around those types of boys will lead to, that’s why!  And, again, I’m talking about you, not your brothers, so stop shifting this conversation to them.”  Ben replied, growing exasperated by the way his son was behaving.

“They aren’t bad Pa.  You just don’t know them, other than Chris.”

Ben nodded and answered, “Chris seems to be a good kid, I know his mother.  However, now that he’s been hanging around those other three boys she’s also worried about him.  I spoke to her in town the other day, and she’s as concerned about Chris as I am about you.  That Brock Davis is a bad influence and he’s been in trouble many times in the past.”

Joe sat back down into the chair next to the desk and tried to choose his words more carefully.  He could feel his temper starting to peak and Joe knew he’d have to try and control it.  “Pa, he’s not a bad kid.  I’ve been in trouble before — does that make me bad too?”

Ben frowned as he stared down at his son.  “Joseph, when you’ve gotten into trouble before you’ve always had me to turn to in order to try to fix your problems.  Brock only has an uncle, one who’s very fond of the bottle.  He doesn’t have someone in his life to set him straight.”

“So it’s Brock’s fault that his uncle drinks?” Joe sounded out loudly.

Ben reached down and planted his hand down onto Joe’s shoulder and forced his gaze.  “You are shouting, Joseph, I’d advise you to settle down.  I’m simply stating the facts as I know them.  Now, what happened to Mitch?  I thought he was your best friend.  Why have you suddenly stopped hanging around with him?”

“Yeah, I was waiting for you to bring up Mitch,” Joe frowned.  “You like Mitch because you know his parents and he rarely gets into any trouble.  I guess you think he’d be a better influence on me, right?”

Ben walked back around the desk and sank down into his chair.  He didn’t seem to be making much head-way in getting to the issue at hand.  Ben could tell that his son only wanted to argue about everything.   That was Joe.  Especially now that he was being put on the spot, Joe would be more apt to redirect the cause of a problem onto someone else.  “Let’s get back to those new friends of yours.  Now, do you want to tell me why you’re spending so much time hanging around with them and less time doing your work?’

“I’ll get to my chores, Pa,” Joe replied sullenly.

“And when do you plan to do that, Joseph?”

Joe shrugged his shoulders and looked back up to his father.  “I’ll get to them tomorrow.”

“And what about all that I’ve said about this friend situation?”

Joe stood back up and replied, “I’m going to choose my own friends, Pa.  It’s not fair that you want to pick them for me.”

“I don’t like this, not in the least.  You’re going to get into trouble, I just know it.  And it’s not just Brock either.  Those Horne twins, they’ve had problems in town too, you know?”

“Okay, Pa!”  Joe exclaimed, having lost the battle to control his temper.  He raised his arms in gesture and kept sounding off.  “You just let me know who I’m allowed to see and who I’m not allowed to see.  Oh, and if I stray from those friends you can just have Adam report in to you and tell you all about it!”

Ben neared his son and grabbed his arm roughly.  “That’s enough!  I’m trying to keep you out of trouble because that’s my job as your father.  Judging from the track record of at least three of the boys you’ve chosen for companions, all of you are heading down the wrong path.”

“I’m almost seventeen, Pa.  How long are you going to make my decisions for me?”

“Joseph,” Ben began, struggling to get through to his son, “I am not making all of your decisions for you.   You have to realize that you are one of the fortunate ones.  Most of those boys don’t have fathers who can voice their concerns in order to try to prevent their sons from getting into trouble.”

“Pa, not having a father wasn’t in their control.  But, just because someone doesn’t have a father doesn’t mean that they’re bad!”

“I didn’t say that was the case.  But, as your father, I’m telling you that I don’t want you to be caught up in a bad situation due to hanging around those types of boys.  Why don’t you try to bring Chris with you next time and go hang out with Mitch?  You just might be able to keep him from getting into trouble?”

“Chris is smart enough to choose his own friends.  He likes Brock and the Horne brothers.  I’m not about to tell him what to do, and neither should you.  It’s bad enough that I’m being told what to do!  You’re treating me like a little kid.”

“Well, right now, Young Man, you are acting like one,” Ben retorted, provoked by the way his son was now raising his voice again. 

Joe weighed the repercussions before addressing what his pa had just said.  “Pa, what’s it going to take for you to stop thinking of me like that?  I mean no matter how old I get, all of you treat me just like that — like I’m a little kid who needs to be told what to do, who to see, and how to act.”

“You happen to have a family that cares.  As I’ve said before, you are fortunate.  A lot of boys your age don’t have that.  Your brothers and I want the best for you.  And, no, we don’t see you as being a little kid — that is — unless you don’t listen and you go off and don’t heed the warnings you’ve been given.”

“So, then you are telling me not to see Brock or the Horne brothers again.  Is that a demand?”

“It’s a warning, a very strong warning,” Ben nodded, as he released his grip on the boy.  “I hope you’ll take heed to it, Joseph.”

“Can I go now?” Joe asked, his facial expression showing his displeasure over all that his father had addressed.

“Remember what I’ve said, Joseph.  I don’t want to go over this again.  And, also remember about those chores of yours.”

“Yeah I’ll get to those chores, since I don’t have anything else to do with my life.” 

“This is a family, Son, and we all have our own work to do around here.  As a part of the family you are expected to do your share.  I don’t give you all that many chores, but those that I do give you, I expect you to get done.  There’s plenty of time left over to do whatever else you want to do.”

“As long as I do exactly as I’ve been told to do in regards to having friends,” Joe answered, still very upset.

Ben lifted his son’s chin and stared directly into his eyes and responded sternly, “I think we’ve been through this now, Joseph.  Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Joe broke away from his father and walked towards the staircase.  He felt like he had when he was much younger.  Joe felt as though he was being treated differently from his brothers and it ate at his insides.  He also didn’t know what he’d do about seeing his friends now.  Defeated in spirit, Joe climbed the stairs heading up to his bedroom.

Hoss pulled the last of the fence posts out of the wagon and walked over to where his little brother waited.  They had been working since sunup and had gotten a lot accomplished.  Joe helped his brother ease the post down into the hole they both had dug earlier.

“This is the last one, Little Brother,” Hoss smiled and patted his brother’s shoulder.  “You’ve sure been a big help today.  I missed you yesterday.”

Joe shoveled in the loose dirt and didn’t reply.  He had been in deep thought.

“Joe?  You hear me, Boy?”

Finally looking over at his brother Joe replied, “oh sure, Hoss.  I’m glad to be out here helping you.  It beats herding the strays with Adam.”

“You ain’t still mad at him, are you?”

“He shouldn’t have gotten involved,” Joe addressed the topic of his eldest brother.

Hoss helped move the remaining soil into the hole, securing the post and looked down at Joe.  “He wasn’t trying to get you into hot water with Pa.   He was just worried about those rough necks you’ve been hanging around with.”

Joe shook his head and groaned.  “Don’t tell me you’re gonna give me a lecture like Pa did last night?  I was hoping you would be on my side.”

“Little Brother, it has nothing to do with being on your side!  That Brock kid is bad news.  He’s got a bad temper and a quick trigger finger.  We just don’t want you getting in trouble.”

“Okay, so you think I’m not smart enough to stay out of trouble just like Pa and Adam, huh?”  Joe answered indignantly.

“Joe, sometimes it don’t have nothing to do with being smart enough.  It comes down to being in the wrong place with the wrong people.”

“Let’s just get this done, Hoss.  I have other things I need to get to.”

Hoss finished packing the soil around the post and tested the set.  “That’s got it now.  Next week that wire will come in and we can finish this fence line.  What do you need to do now?  You gonna get to that firewood at home?”

Joe walked to the wagon with Hoss and climbed up, handing the reins to the team over to his brother.  “No I’ve got other things to do.  Just get us back home so I can get Cochise.”

Hoss sent the team forward and cast a look over at his brother.  He asked warily, “You aren’t planning on going to see those friends of yours are you?”

“So what if I am?” Joe fired back indignantly.

“Pa ain’t gonna like it.”

“Who’s gonna tell him?” Joe asked, shooting a look over at Hoss.

“I’m not going to run and tell him.  But, I don’t want to get in the middle neither.  If he comes out and asks me I’m going to have to tell him, Joe.”

“He didn’t say I couldn’t see them, he just said he strongly suggested I didn’t.”

Hoss shook his head and replied, “You know what he meant.  I wouldn’t go asking for trouble if I was you.  If Pa used those words he meant you stay away from them.”

“Let’s just get home,” Joe insisted, not heeding his brother’s warning any more than he had his father’s.

Adam had just put away his horse and was walking out of the barn when his two brothers appeared pulling up into the front yard.  He walked over to them and called out a greeting.

“Hello there, Brothers!  You two get all those posts set?”

Hoss hopped out of the wagon and tied the reins down at the footboard.  “Yep, Joe and I got them all done!”

Joe didn’t make eye contact with Adam.  He was still very upset that his brother had been talking about him to their father.  Joe jumped down from the bench seat and walked away from them both and headed to the barn.

“Kid’s still mad at me, huh?”  Adam asked Hoss frowning.

Hoss nodded and looked towards the parting figure of his little brother.  “Yeah, Joe’s not too happy with you.  I don’t think he’s happy with Pa either.  He feels like both of you have been too hard on him.”

“Well, at least he still likes you, Hoss!”  Adam quipped and patted his brother’s shoulder.

Hoss shook his head and replied, “Naw, I told him what I thought about those friends too, and now I don’t think he’s very happy with me either.”

“That boy just has to learn things the hard way, doesn’t he?”

Soon Joe was up onto his horse and galloped out of the yard at a fast clip.  Before his brothers had a chance to say anything more their father came up alongside them.

“Just where is Joseph off to in such a hurry?”  Ben asked.

Hoss stared down at the ground, not offering a reply.  He didn’t want to be the one who had to tell their father.

“Hoss?” Ben asked again.

“I’m not exactly sure, Pa,” he replied, not looking into his father’s eyes.

Adam stared at his brother and could tell he was keeping Joe’s secrets again.  Hoss never had a good poker face.

“Did he tell you or not?”  Ben continued as he neared his middle boy.

“Not in so many words, Pa.”

“Okay, then in whatever words he said, Hoss,” Ben persisted and forced his son’s gaze.

Hoss sighed, hating to be put on the spot and having to tell their father where the boy had gone off to.  “He might be going to see those friends, Pa.  Joe didn’t say for sure that he was.  But, well, he kind of gave me the idea that’s where he was heading.”

“That boy!” Ben exclaimed, exasperated at his youngest.  “I just told him last night that I don’t want him to see those boys anymore and he’s right back at it.”

“Pa — I don’t know for sure that’s where he went.  Maybe he’s just out riding to cool off some?”

“Come on, Hoss, we all know better,” Adam insisted.  “You want me to go on out after him, Pa?”

Ben shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what to do at that point.  He knew that there were bad feelings now between his oldest and youngest sons.

“I won’t fuss at him, Pa.  I promise.  I’ll just remind him he needs to get that firewood chopped like he promised you last night.  I won’t say anything to those other boys to make him look bad,” Adam assured his father.

Ben frowned and thought on the situation.  Finally looking over towards Adam he said, “You and Hoss come inside and have some coffee.  If he’s not back in an hour you can go out and get him to come home.  I’m hoping he’ll come in of his own volition.”

Adam and Hoss walked with their father into the ranch house.  All of them knew in their hearts that Joe never did anything the easy way, and most likely was out with those new friends of his in spite of what his father had warned.

Joe dismounted behind Brock Davis’ barn and looked over at the other four boys who were sitting cross-legged around a make-shift campfire.  He tied Cochise’s reins to a spindly pine tree branch and sauntered over to his friends.

“You just missed it, Cartwright!”  Brock called over to the other boy.  “I had just a few ounces left of my uncle’s whiskey but we just polished it off.”

Joe nodded towards Chris and his other three friends.  “I got a bunch of chores heaped onto me so I couldn’t get here any sooner.  Did I miss anything besides a little rot-gut?” Joe smiled and took a seat next to the others.

“Got in a little target shooting, Joe,” Chris smiled, and reached over and patted his friends arm.  “You should’ve seen Brock, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any better shooting then he did today.”

“Hey, where’s your uncle, Brock?  I thought he didn’t want us to hang out here anymore?” Joe asked, peering around looking for the man.

“I think he’s in town, probably at the Silver Dollar wasting his money.  We’re planning on going into Virginia City in a little while.   We didn’t think you’d make it today, Joe.”

“I bet his pa rode him about hanging out with the likes of us,” Pete Horne replied laughing over at Joe.

“I choose my own friends,” Joe insisted, as he cast a sharp look at Pete.

“You’re going into town with us then?” Pete shot back, daring Joe to turn down the invitation with his glare.

Joe nodded and replied, “I’ll go there for a little while.  What’s so important in town anyway, Brock?”

“The Bucket of Blood,” Dev Horne piped up before Brock could answer.

Joe stared over at Dev and then back at Brock.  “What about it?”

“Bruno is an old friend of mine,” Brock began and stood up.  “If I’m there the rest of you can come in without a problem.  Heck, I’ll even buy tonight!”  He held up a couple silver dollars to show the other boys.

Joe drew in a deep breath, the idea of going into the bar and drinking out in the open was against his better judgement.  He didn’t mind sneaking a few sips of liquor here and there but he knew better than to hang around a saloon.   Joe hoped that maybe by the time he was seventeen he could get away with it, but most folks in town knew his age.

“You ARE coming, right, Joe?” Chris asked, looking over at his friend.  He thought that if Joe was okay with the idea that he’d be more apt to go along with it too.

Joe shrugged his shoulders and stood up, staring at Chris.  He remembered what his father had said the night before about taking Chris over to hang out with Mitch to prevent the boy from getting into trouble.  Joe didn’t want the kid to do anything just because he was going to do it.  “Chris, maybe you should sit this one out?  The Bucket of Blood is a rough place from what I’ve heard.”

“You’re not chickening out, are you, Cartwright?” Pete asked.

“No, I’m going!” Joe responded angrily.

“Then I am too, Joe,” Chris insisted and walked over to get his horse.

“Okay then, Men, let’s go!” Brock sang out and they all gathered their mounts to ready for the ride into Virginia City.  It would be one trip into town that they would all come to regret later.

Darkness had fallen over the mining town of Virginia City by the time the five young men had made it to the hitching posts in front of the rowdy Bucket of Blood Saloon.  The more elegant Silver Dollar Saloon stood across the street and down a half of a block away.  The clientele were more polished there than at the Bucket of Blood, but the drinks cost a lot more.  Then there was the owner and bartender, Bruno Gilley, who was much more apt to look the other way if the money was right even if the patron was far too young to be drinking there.  So, taking that into consideration, Brock had most often frequented the saloon and had drummed up a friendship with the man.  Bruno looked up when Brock walked inside the saloon, followed closely behind by the other four boys.  Quickly setting three silver dollars onto the bar, Brock smiled and nodded over to the bartender.

“Give me a bottle and five shot glasses, will you, Bruno?” Brock smiled.

Without hesitating, Bruno reached for a bottle of the house special, which was rot-gut whiskey.  He cast a suspicious eye towards the four young men standing behind Brock.  “Take your party there towards the back, Brock.  I’d just as soon nobody got nosey,” He whispered, and retrieved the money, placing it inside his apron.

“C’mon, Boys!” Brock sang out and pointed for his friends to follow him.  The five of them walked to the back of the bar and settled down at a table.  He could tell that both Chris and Joe looked nervous.  “It’s okay, nobody will spot you back here.”

“I was just looking,” Chris tried to pretend he wasn’t worried about being seen at the saloon by anyone who might tell his mother about it.

“Drink hardy!” Brock insisted as he poured the five shots of whiskey, handing each of his friends a glass.

Joe was first to shoot his down, trying not to choke on the potent whiskey.  Chris did the same and handed his shot glass back to be refilled.

“Take it easy, Chris,” Joe whispered to his friend.  “This stuff creeps up on you.”

“I’m good,” Chris replied, wanting to fit in with the others as he saw they had already downed their liquor.

“Not too bad, is it, Cartwright?” Dev remarked.

“Nope,” Joe nodded and grabbed another shot.  This time he sipped it slowly.  The last thing he needed was to go home drunk.

The five young men made small talk and watched with great interest a few of the barmaids in their scantily clad dresses.  They decided they’d take their time swilling the rot-gut in order to enjoy the better part of the evening before the money would run out.  None of the five friends were drunk after an hour, but they weren’t feeling any pain either.  It was then that a couple of cowhands made it over to their table and started to confront them about their ages.

“You don’t look old enough to shave yet, Sonny!” One of the cowboys laughed towards Brock.

“Why don’t you go before I have to plug you?” Brock returned, and let his hand fall down to his holster.

“Look at these kids, will you, Bill!  They belong in a school house and not a bar.  And this one is aiming to get into a shoot out!” the cowhand turned to his friend and motioned towards all the boys at the table, especially Brock.

“I think we need to give them all a good thrashing!” the other cowhand called and pulled up his sleeves.

It was then that a melee broke out, and all five of the boys were drawn into the fracas.  Before long the fight spread from the back room of the Bucket of Blood and out to the main room.  Tables were broken, the huge mirror behind the bar was smashed and chairs were tossed around.  Bruno came out from behind the bar and tried to get to the five boys, to end the fight and prevent his saloon from turning to rubble.  That was when all Hell broke out.

Adam Cartwright had followed his brother’s trail from the Ponderosa, to the Davis ranch and from there into Virginia City.  He spied Joe’s horse tied up in front of the Bucket of Blood, and as soon as he dismounted, he heard the loud skirmish coming from inside.  As soon as he cleared the swinging doors a broken whiskey bottle sailed his way and it crashed onto his right arm, cutting it wide open.  Adam winced as he realized he had been cut and saw the blood pouring out.  His brother, who had just come out from under a table where he had been thrown in the fight, witnessed what had happened.  He side-stepped his way to where Adam stood holding his arm trying to stop the flow of blood with his shirt sleeve.  The fight still waged on, and Joe turned to see Bruno get hit over the head.  Brock had accidently thrown a chair towards one of the cowhands but had missed and hit the bartender.

“Adam!” Joe shouted, as he got a good look at the blood still pouring out of his brother’s forearm.  He reached for a rag from the bar and attempted to tie if off over his brother’s wound.  “Let’s get you over to Doc’s!”  Joe sang out loudly over the noise from the brawl.

“What in the Hell have you gotten yourself into this time, Joe?” Adam fumed, turning out of the saloon with the boy.

“Let’s just go,” Joe answered, more concerned with his brother’s injury than how he would explain what he had been doing at the bar.

Ben peered outside when he heard the approach of the two horses.  He had been waiting for hours for both of his sons and had been worried that they had gotten into a fight over bringing Joe home.  He moved to the front porch and watched as Joe assisted Adam down off of his horse.  It was only when they had gotten right under the porch lamp that Ben had noticed the sling around Adam’s neck holding his right arm.

“Adam!” Ben exclaimed, and reached out to him.  “What happened to you?”

Adam frowned and moved inside, side-stepping his father.  Joe walked behind the two of them not saying a word.

“I’m okay, I just need to get cleaned up and lay down,” Adam called over to Pa.

Ben cast a questioning look at his youngest and noticed the boy dropped his head down in response.  “How did you get hurt?”

“I’ll go put away the horses,” Joe whispered and turned out of the house abruptly.

“Let me get cleaned up, Pa,” Adam insisted and headed to the staircase.

“Hoss!” Ben bellowed towards the kitchen and the big man appeared.

“Yeah, Pa?”

“Come on, your brother Adam has been hurt,” He replied and they both walked towards the stairs to find out what had happened.

Ben helped his son get out of his sling and made sure he had everything he needed in order to change into a nightshirt.  Both he and Hoss stepped into the hallway so Adam could clean up a bit and get settled into bed.  After a few minutes they both walked inside the room to learn what had happened, and how he had come to be hurt.

Adam told his father and brother all that there was to tell.  He informed them on everything that Joe had confessed to him on their long ride back home that night.  Ben was the picture of worry over his son’s injury, even though Adam had told him that Doctor Martin had thoroughly cleansed and sutured his cut.  Ben gave his son the pain powders that Doc had sent home with Adam and watched as he eased back against the pillows on his bed after taking the medicine.

“Well, now you know everything that I do, Pa,” Adam sighed and began to settle down.

“Was Roy told about this?” Ben questioned, worried about the possible charges.

“I think he came right after Joe and I left the saloon.  Oh and Doc checked Bruno over right as I was getting ready to leave.  Fortunately he has a hard head, and is going to be alright.  Those boys could’ve had some major charges if he had been hurt bad — or worse!”

“And you too, Brother!  That’s some nasty wound you got there.  You said you got twelve stitches in you.  You’re lucky it didn’t open up an artery or something,” Hoss exclaimed staring at the large bandage on Adam’s right arm.

“Yeah,” Adam nodded.  He looked over at his father and saw worry mixed with anger in his eyes.  “Pa — maybe wait until tomorrow to go into this with Joe.  I know the kid’s got to be punished but why don’t you hold off?”

Ben stood and sighed, he had to figure out exactly how to handle the situation.  It scared him.  Just the thought of what could have happened to Adam due to Joe’s disobedience shook him to the very core.

“Pa?” Hoss sang out.  “I think Adam is right.  Maybe you should just send the kid to his room until tomorrow?”

Ben turned and looked from one son and then to the other.  “You’re both worried that I’m going to give your brother a tanning, is that it?”

“Yes, Sir,” Hoss replied, and Adam nodded.

Ben shook his head and answered sternly, “That wouldn’t do any good, that boy needs a longer lasting lesson than a mere tanning would provide.  I’ve got an idea.  Let me think on it tonight.  But, in the meantime I don’t want either of you to give your little brother any quarter!  Just ignore him, no matter what he says to you both.  Now are we in agreement on this?”

Adam looked over at Hoss bewildered by what their father had said.  Finally, growing tired from the medicine, he nodded his acceptance of Pa’s plan thus far.

“Me too, Pa.  I won’t say nothing to the kid, no matter what he tries to say to me,” Hoss agreed.

“Okay, Boys, now Adam you get some sleep.  I’ll be in to check on you in a little while.  Hoss go on downstairs but don’t speak to Joseph.”

Hoss walked down the stairs while his father lingered for a few minutes in Adam’s room making sure he was going to sleep.  Hoss watched as his little brother made it inside the house after tending to the two horses.  As soon as he saw Joe he walked away from the kid and headed into the kitchen, never saying a word to the boy

Joe stood next to the fireplace and watched in silence as his father slowly walked down the stairs.  He cast a worried glance over at Pa, noting the set to the man’s shoulders.  Joe’s eyes tracked down to the floor before speaking.  He swallowed hard trying to dislodge the lump in his throat before addressing the awful details of what he had done and how he had disobeyed his father.

“Pa?”  Joe began, “Is Adam okay?  The Doc said he’s got a lot of stitches, but he should be alright in a few weeks.  Did he take those pain powders Doc gave him?”

Ben breezed past Joe and headed to his study.  He stopped at the table standing just to the left of his desk and poured a quick shot of brandy.  Ignoring his youngest son’s questions, Pa stood and slowly sipped the liquor.  Joe hesitantly approached his father.  He knew he was in big trouble but Joe figured it would be best to just get it over with.  By now he was sure that Adam had informed Pa of everything that had happened in town.  Joe stood and waited for the shouting to begin. He figured he was also in for one hell of a tanning, so he braced himself for the worst.   Silent minutes passed by, and it seemed to the boy that time itself had stopped.   Pa continued to stand there speechless, refusing to even look at his son.  Joe could imagine what was going through his father’s mind at the time.  He figured Pa was debating which to do first, hit his son or shout at him.  Joe continued to stare over his way, but there was no sign that his father was going to make the move towards him.  Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, Joe nervously called out to his pa.

“Pa?  Listen, I know I never should’ve been there at the bar.  And, I know I shouldn’t have been out with my friends — not after what you said last night,” Joe tried his best to elicit a response from his father but was having no luck.  Pa still stood by his desk, his gaze directed away from the boy.

“Pa please say something!  Yell at me — tell me how disappointed you are in me — give me a tanning — anything — but don’t just stand there and ignore me!” Joe pleaded.

Ben set down his glass abruptly on the wooden table top, causing a reverberation that broke the deafening silence in the room.  Taking a deep breath and setting his shoulders, Pa slowly advanced to the living room.  Joe ran briskly after him, desperately grabbing his right arm.  “Pa, please!  Don’t’ just walk away from me!” he begged his father to look at him or say something.

Ben finally turned and harshly broke his son’s hold on his arm.  He stared down at the boy, his gaze totally devoid of feeling.  “I have nothing to say to you,” He responded to his son, his voice cold and hollow in tone.

“Pa – please just tell me what you want me to do!” Joe pleaded with one hundred per cent pain bleeding out in his words.

Ben turned his back on his son again and answered, “I don’t care what you do, Joseph.”  Pa walked away from Joe and headed to meet up with Hoss in the kitchen.

Joe stood all by himself in the living room fighting back tears.  He had never felt more regret in his life, nor had he ever felt so all alone.  Taking in a deep and painful breath, Joe turned for the stairs to seek the solace of his bedroom.

Ben sat in his red leather chair in front of the dying embers of the large fireplace.  He had already checked on Adam and found him to be resting peacefully.  Hoss had lingered there in the living room, trying to help his pa by his presence.  But, after midnight Ben had told his middle son to go to bed and they would address the issue of Joseph the following day.  Now, sitting alone into the wee hours of the morning Ben had made up his mind.  Though he hated what had to be done concerning his youngest, Pa knew there was no other way to get through to the boy.  His stomach churned as his eyes trekked up the stairs.  He wished he could have compromised and simply given Joseph a good tanning and maybe restricted him to the ranch but he knew that wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do in the long run.  Joe was heading down a dangerous path and Ben knew it was up to him to set the kid straight.  He knew what had to be done, and felt it was the only way it could be handled now.  Pa wondered if he had been too soft on his youngest and that because he had mellowed a bit over the years, he had let the boy get away with far more than his brothers had at his age.  It was time to rein the kid in, Ben was sure that it was for the best, and it would hopefully prevent Joe from becoming a hellion.  He didn’t want to see the boy ruin his life and Pa knew if he continued rebelling like he had, Joe might end up in some trouble that his father would not be able to bail him out of.  With those his final thoughts on the matter at hand, Ben stood wearily and made his way up the staircase.  He paused just outside of Little Joe’s room and leaned heavily on the door.  Pa wished a million times over that he didn’t have to go through with his plan, but there was no other way.  He knew Joseph would survive the punishment, but the harshness of it worried his father.  Closing his eyes before continuing to his own bedroom, Ben said a prayer that he wouldn’t lose his son in the process.

Joe woke too early.  He had tossed and turned and he remembered crying out a few times.  The few hours he had slept were filled with nightmares.  Joe saw his father standing mutely next to his desk, his eyes dark and foreboding.  He would awake to the harsh reality that the nightmare had been real.  Pulling on his clothes Joe moved towards his bedroom window and peered out.  The sun was just breaking over the mountains in the distance.  He washed his face in the basin next to his bureau and stared up into his mirror.  Joe’s face still showed redness around his eyes from all the tears he had shed the night before.  He didn’t know what would be waiting for him downstairs.  Joe hoped that maybe, after a good night’s sleep, that Pa might relent and speak to him.  At that point, Joe would gladly settle for a tanning without complaint.  He reasoned even the pain of a tanning would show that his father still cared about him.  Joe drew in a deep breath and headed out of his room.

Ben sat at the dining table with Hoss as Joe made his way down the stairs and moved quietly over to them.

“Morning,” Joe called to his father and brother somberly.

“You want me to check with those men up at the herd today, Pa?” Hoss asked, sipping his coffee, totally ignoring his brother’s greeting.

Ben nodded and set down his coffee cup.  “Yes, Son, see if they need more help moving those new steers that they cut into the herd yesterday.”

Hop Sing padded into the dining room and brought out another platter of eggs.  Joe looked over at the Oriental member of the family and said, “Breakfast looks good today.”

Hop Sing removed the empty platter which had held the flapjacks and walked back into the kitchen without a word to the boy.  Joe hung his head.  It was becoming very apparent that he was going to receive the silent treatment from everyone.

“Pa?” Joe called meekly and tried to force his gaze on his father.  “Is it okay if I go and see if Adam wants anything?”

Ben cleared his throat and looked back over at Hoss and said, “I’ll be back before noon.  You can check on Adam for me, Son.”  And with that, Pa moved over to the credenza to grab his holster and hat.

Joe ran after his pa and stood at the front door.  He watched as the man buckled his gun-belt and tied the rawhide strings.  Ben reached for his hat and moved to the door.  He could see Joseph was blocking his departure.

“Pa!” Joe yelled and held fast at the door, trying to prevent his father from leaving.  “Please, I can’t take this.  I’m sorry — I’m sorry for everything.  I’ll do anything you want me to do —- just talk to me!” the boy cried, his voice rife with pain.

Ben reached for his son’s arm, brusquely pulling the boy away from the front door.  Joe tried his best to stop his father from leaving, but Pa had prevailed.  He watched from the open door as his father headed to the barn to get his horse.  Fighting back his tears again, Joe moved back into the dining room and stood at the table.

“Hoss — please — I need someone to talk to.  Don’t you turn your back on me too!  Talk to me, will you?” Joe’s plaintive voice sang out.

Hoss tried not to look into his little brother’s tear-filled eyes.  He knew he would cave in to the boy’s request if he were to do that.  Instead, he stood and moved into the kitchen.

Joe dropped down into his chair at the dining table and covered his eyes.  He wondered how long he would be getting the silent treatment.  Joe figured there was no use going up to Adam’s room.  He was sure everyone had been told by Pa to just let him suffer in silence for a while.  Finally, pulling from what little internal fortitude he had left in his body, Joe took a sip of coffee and then turned for the door.

Making a valiant attempt at redemption, Joe began cutting the wood outside in the pile that had gone unattended for more than a week.  Little by little the new pile of split wood began to grow in height.  All Joe could think about was trying to find a way to get his father and the rest of the family to forgive him.  He realized that not only had he gone against his father’s strong warning to stay away from his new friends but he had also been caught at a bar and in the midst of a brawl.  Worse yet was that Adam had been injured because of it all.  Joe mopped the sweat away from his eyes with his sleeve and tossed another piece of wood aside.  He worked for close to four hours straight and had only taken a break once or twice to grab some water from the bucket next to the front porch.  By noon the boy felt he was making decent progress but his strength was diminishing.  It was at that moment, when he had finally set down the axe, that Joe spied his father riding up into the front yard.

“I’ll take your horse for you, Pa,” Joe offered as he made yet another attempt at breaking the ice.

Ben dismounted and tied Buck’s reins to the hitching post.  He never looked over at his son, but instead simply walked past the boy and headed into the ranch house.  Joe stood in muted sorrow as he watched his pa walking away from him again.  He reasoned that there was no use in following him into the house.  It was very apparent that Pa had no intention of talking to him, let alone forgiving him.

Once back at the job at hand, Joe readied his axe and swung once more.  At that moment Sheriff Roy Coffee rode up into the yard, dismounted quickly and walked briskly towards the front door.   Joe stopped what he was doing as he wondered why the sheriff headed into the house without speaking to him.  That was not like Roy.

“Ben, I seen Joe outside, you want to go get the kid for me?” Roy asked, as he stood just inside the opened front door.

Ben frowned and walked past the sheriff and made his way out to the front porch.  He called out sternly, “Joseph!  Inside now!”

Joe heard his name for the first time since the previous night, but it wasn’t being said in a kindly manner.  Apprehensively making his way onto the porch, Joe side stepped his way around his father and headed into the house.

“Joe, I guess you know why I’m here,” Roy announced.

Joe looked down at the wood planking and felt his stomach seize into a knot.  “No, Sir.”

“I got me four boys waiting on a judge come tomorrow.  And, you, Little Joe, are number five,” Roy exclaimed.

“Because of the fight in the bar?” Joe asked, his voice sounding strained.  He noticed that Pa had come inside and now flanked the lawman.

“Yep,” Roy nodded.  “You boys really tore up the place.  And that’s not even mentioning people who got hurt in that melee.  Gotta take you in, Boy.  Go get your things.”

Joe breathed in deeply and held the breath.  He shot a glance towards Pa and hoped he would finally break his silence.

“Ben, I hear tell that Adam got hurt in the brawl too.  How’s the boy?”

“He has a mess of stitches, but he should heal in time,” Ben replied.

“If you want to come into town and post bail and maybe pay Joe’s share of the damages, Ben, I can probably release the kid by later tonight,” Roy offered, staring over at his old friend.

Joe caught his father’s penetrating gaze and held his breath again, hoping for some divine intervention.

“Joseph is all yours, Roy.  I’m quite done with him,” Ben announced and turned away from both his son and the sheriff.

Joe grabbed his hat and his jacket while Roy held on to the boy’s gun and holster.

“Don’t know when you’ll have a need for these, Boy.  But, I can always keep ‘em in my safe.  Go get your horse we need to head out.”

“Just a minute, Roy,” Joe started but was cut off.

“That’s Sheriff now, Little Joe, no more Roy.  You’re my prisoner now looks like, so can’t be on a first name basis with you.”

“Sheriff — just give me a minute — I’ll be right back!” Joe pleaded with the officer as he dashed away from the credenza and rounded the corner heading off to where his father had gone.  “Pa!  C’mon, Pa!  I’ve learned my lesson — I don’t want to go to the jail!” Joe finally came up upon his father standing in the kitchen next to the stove.  He ran over to him and put his hand on Pa’s arm.  “Pa, I know you’re mad but this is serious.  Will you please go into town with me?”

Ben stood firm, his hands planted on his hips and his feet spread apart.  He towered over the boy in that stance, and he wanted that to show now.  

“Joseph, you wanted to make your own choices, well, now they’re yours to deal with.” Pa remarked severely and then called out to the sheriff.  “Roy!  The kid is in here.  Come and take him.”

Roy appeared around the corner and witnessed the scene between both father and son.

“C’mon, Little Joe, time we headed on into town,” Roy said, taking the boy by the elbow.

Joe turned his eyes on his father one last time.  He couldn’t believe that Pa would be this cruel to him.  Dropping his head down in remorse and sadness, Joe slowly eased out of the kitchen.  Following the sheriff to the door, Joe cast a parting look at the living room.  He had no idea how long he’d be gone. Still in his heart he prayed that Pa might relent after a few hours and come and get him out of the jail.  Saddling Cochise quickly, Joe mounted the horse and followed Roy into Virginia City.

Once Roy and Joe had left the yard, Pa stood out on the front porch holding his hands up to his face.  He had done his best to appear aloof and uncaring while the boy was there in front of him.  But, now he was finding it harder to stick to his plan then he thought it would be.  It had been worse than even he could imagine, and it was just the beginning.  ***I’m doing this for you, Joseph*** Ben thought to himself.  He drew in a deep breath and headed back inside the house.  He had an injured son to tend to.

There were four cells in the Virginia City jail and there were five new prisoners for them.  Roy had decided that, at least for now, he’d keep them all separated other than the Horne twins.  He put the brothers together and Joe, Chris and Brock had their own cells.  The sheriff had addressed the new jailbirds in a calm but firm manner.  He told them that it wasn’t a school and he wasn’t a nurse maid either.  He told them if they were lucky enough and didn’t get charged with a major crime any one of them could probably have their folks post bail and pay for damages.  Roy told them they would get food twice a day but it would be seconds from the kitchen down at the hotel.  That would mean, if they were all lucky, two day old stew and burnt biscuits.  They could have all the water they could drink but it was lukewarm at best.

Joe sat in silence all that afternoon and evening.  He had watched as Chris’ mother had come by and though she was upset with the boy she had told him she loved him.  Next was Mrs. Horne and she was a bit more abrupt in manner and had scolded her boys but had taken the time to make them some cookies which she gave them before leaving.  Brock’s uncle dropped in, though he was a bit tipsy at the time.  He had told the boy that if he won at poker that night that he’d post bail.  Brock knew it was a pipe dream but at least the man had come by and hadn’t gotten up in his face about the bar brawl.  That just left Little Joe.  No-one came to visit him.  He had hoped that Hoss, who was known to be the most soft hearted of the family, would have stopped by even briefly.  But, that hadn’t happened.  Joe felt all the worse knowing his family was sticking to their guns as far as staying angry at him.   Still, Joe just couldn’t figure Pa.  He shook his head as he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and listened to the two Horne brothers snoring in the next cell.  Joe had never doubted his father’s love before, no matter what he had ever done it was always still there.  Yes, he had in times past made the man angry, but never to this degree.  Joe wondered if it could be possible that Pa really was, as he had said to Roy, quite done with his youngest son. He doubted he could continue to exist without his pa, he meant that much to him.  Joe wished he had appreciated what he had and not risked it all by failing to heed his father’s warnings about choosing one’s friends wisely.   Joe hoped that exhaustion would take over, as he had done an awful lot of wood chopping before being dragged into town.  But, that hadn’t happened either.  Every time he closed his eyes he saw the look on his father’s face as he had stood there in the kitchen.

“Hey, Joe?” the whispered voice from the next cell called out.

“Yeah, Chris?  What is it?”

“I’m sorry I ever got mixed up in all of this.  I bet you are too, huh?”

Joe sighed and leaned back against the cold stone wall of his cell.  “Yeah, I am too.  Try and get some sleep, we’ve got a long day waiting on us.”

“Joe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about your pa not coming to see you.”

Joe fought back tears and drew the blanket up to his eyes.  “Thanks — I am too.  Get some shut-eye, Chris.  I’ll talk to you when they get us up.”

“Okay, goodnight, Joe.  If I got to serve any time I’m glad I’m in a cell next to you.”

“Yeah, likewise, Kid.  Goodnight,” Joe replied and settled back.  He wished now that he had taken Chris by to meet Mitch like Pa had suggested.  Instead, he had him for a cellmate.  Closing his eyes Joe realized what his father had meant about him making his own choices.  He had made some very bad ones lately and he knew it.

The next day all five boys had been taken down to the Virginia City Courthouse.  They sat out in the hallway just outside the main courtroom and waited their turns.  First Brock was taken in, then the Horne twins together, and then Chris.  Lastly it was Joe’s turn.

Joe tried not to appear nervous and stood there at the railing next to Sheriff Coffee as the judge entered the room.  He had told them all to be seated and Joe used that time to cast a quick look behind him to see if Pa was somewhere inside the courtroom.

“Joseph Cartwright,” the judge called out the name and Joe was signaled by Roy to stand and face the man.

“Here, Sir,” Joe addressed the judge.  He had seen the man before and knew him to be a decent judge.  His name was George Wheeler and Joe remembered the man coming for dinner several years earlier when he was only an attorney.

Judge Wheeler looked over the paper in front of him and then looked at Joe.  “Ben Cartwright, are you present?” He asked, casting a look around the room.

“I am, Your Honor,” Ben’s deep baritone voice sang out from somewhere in the back of the room.

Joe’s heart dropped in his chest.  He thought that Pa should be standing up in front somewhere either next to him or maybe behind him.  Joe shot a glance around the courtroom trying to see where he was.  He finally spotted the man, standing at the very back of the room.

“Do you wish to pay for the damages incurred due to the fight over at the Bucket of Blood Saloon?”

“I do not, Your Honor,” Ben announced stringently.

Judge Wheeler looked down at his paper again and then back at Joe.  “Joseph, there’s several charges here besides the damages.  Now, according to my notes you’ve not had any trouble with the law in the past, but this is serious.  That fight could have gotten people killed.  As it is I see that your own brother was hurt in that fight.  What do you have to say for yourself, Son?”

Joe drew in a breath.   He was having trouble getting his bearings especially after hearing what his father had said.  He knew he’d have to try to say something.

“I’m sorry, your Honor.  I shouldn’t have been in that bar and I feel bad that anyone got hurt, especially my brother Adam.”

The Judge looked down the aisle and over to Ben Cartwright.  He could read the seriousness on his face.  The judge had also caught the slight nod of the man’s head as he motioned towards him.

“Being sorry isn’t enough, Joseph.  If someone had gotten killed you and those other boys would be in a prison wagon heading to Territorial Prison right about now.  Now, I have read the report about who threw the bottle that hit your brother and who threw the chair that hit Bruno Gilley.  You didn’t do those two things but you were there with those who did do them.  I’ve looked at the damages and we figured up who did what and how much.  We decided to divide it straight down the middle and all five of you boys will pay equal parts.  I take it you don’t have any money on your person, am I right?”

“Yes, Your Honor, I don’t have any,” Joe nodded.

“The town council has started a new work program.  Unfortunately they had to do it due to a bunch of young men around your age who have been acting up around this town.  This work program starts tomorrow and I’ve already put the other four boys on the list.  I’m adding you to it now as well.  Working on that detail will earn the money to pay for the damages that you have caused.   Joseph Cartwright, I hereby sentence you to six weeks in the Virginia City Jail doing labor on that work program.  The town council will be providing all five of you with uniforms and various jobs.  Now, once you’ve served your time you will have a record with Storey County.  If you stay out of trouble, once you’ve served your six weeks, I’m going to put you on probation for one year.  You’re very lucky that I’m letting you off with a warning about your behavior, and only because neither Mr. Gilley nor your brother Adam are pressing charges on this matter.    Now, in that one year’s time, if you haven’t broken any laws then I will have your record expunged,” the judge paused as he caught the question in the boy’s eyes.  “That means the record will be removed, Joseph.   Do you have any questions before I turn you over to Sheriff Coffee?”

“No, Sir, Your Honor,” Joe replied despondently, now having lost all hope of getting out of jail.

“Sheriff Coffee,” the judge pointed for Roy to put handcuffs on the boy.

Joe watched as Sheriff Coffee locked the steel cuffs down into place over his wrists.  Fighting the sinking feeling in his heart, Joe strained his neck to catch a glimpse of his father.  He caught Pa’s gaze and saw his frown.  Then Joe watched in total despair as Ben simply walked away.

Joe thought he couldn’t possibly feel any worse than he had when he saw his pa walk away.  But he was wrong.  From the courtroom he was led back out to the original hallway where they all had been seated prior to the hearing.  There in front of him sat the same four boys but next to them stood two mothers comforting three boys and one uncle talking it up with his nephew.  Joe closed his eyes and hoped they’d be taken back to jail soon, as he didn’t think he could take much more.

It was pale blue.  It was pale indistinguishable blue.  Not robin’s egg blue, not sky blue, simply ugly pale blue.  Joe fingered the twill material and looked down at the new monogram he wore.  It was just the number five.  He was no longer Joseph Francis Cartwright.  He was no longer Little Joe Cartwright either.  He wasn’t even Short Shanks, a name his brother Hoss had given him years ago.  It didn’t even say the word kid, the title Adam gave him.  He was just plain number five now.  Joe had watched as the two mothers, Mrs. Hawkins and Mrs. Horne had taken away their boy’s clothing from the jail while their sons changed into their new jailbird garb.  Joe even saw that drunken uncle of Brock’s come and take his clothes back home.  But he hadn’t had anyone come to take away the gray pants the tan shirt nor the bright green corduroy jacket.  Joe had asked Roy if there was somewhere he could stash his clothes for six weeks and the sheriff was non-committal.  Six weeks was a life time anyway, Joe thought.  He didn’t need to worry about clothes right now.  Roy had informed all the family members, at least the ones who had shown up that is, that visiting hour was on Saturdays from eight p.m. to nine.  Joe thought on the fact that Saturday was going to be in about four days.  He wondered if there was any way possible that his pa could miss him enough by then to maybe stop by.  Joe would settle for seeing Hop Sing at this point, but he doubted it.  Pa was a stubborn person, but then he had a right to be, Joe guessed.  He had made his own way, paid his dues and raised three boys largely all by himself.  Joe corrected the number in his head.  Pa had raised two boys on his own with little help, the third boy was now a prisoner; one that his father was quite done with.

“Cartwright, if you’re not going to eat your biscuits can I have them?” Dev called out.

“Shut up!  I was going to ask him!” Pete insisted and shot his brother an angry stare.

“Here!  Take them both, just leave me alone,” Joe replied and tossed both of his biscuits through the bars of his cell and over to the twins.

“Hey, Cartwright, how come you ain’t eating?” Brock laughed over at Joe.

“I’m full,” Joe spat back.

“He misses his daddy, Boys!” Brock laughed.

Joe stood and looked over towards the big mouthed oldest cellmate.  “That ain’t funny, Brock.  Cut it out!” Joe fumed.

“His pa could’ve bailed all of us out and not even had to open his wallet, but heck he won’t even bail his own son out!” Pete picked up where Brock stopped.

“Go choke on a biscuit,” Joe sneered over at Pete.

“Leave Joe alone!” Chris came to his friend’s defense.

“Cut it out all of you!” Roy Coffee shouted as he entered the back of the jailhouse.  “This is not a playground and you are all serving time now.  I hear any more yelling I’m going to lock whoever is making the most noise up in the outhouse.  Now it’s lights out time so you boys get to sleep.  You’re all gonna need it for tomorrow!  The work detail starts right after I feed you heathens and it ain’t gonna be no picnic I can promise you that!   I’m dousing the light now so no more noise.  My deputy is now going on duty and he’s got a headache so cut it out.”

“Goodnight, Chris, and thanks,” Joe whispered and watched as the boy nodded over to him.

“Night, Joe.” Chris answered and pulled his blanket over his head.

Joe folded his arms behind his head and stared out into the darkness.  He wondered what was going on at home.  The word home sounded funny to him, even when just saying it in his head.  He wasn’t too sure he still had a home.  Joe still held out hope that by Saturday someone would come to visit him and hopefully it would be his pa.  He closed his eyes and thought on how false hope was better than no hope at all. 

The work detail was a grueling one.  The town council had decided to employ some new guards who would only have to work during the hours of the detail, but long enough to free up Sheriff Coffee in order for him to get to his own work.   Joe took an instant dislike to both of the men.  They had to call them Deputy Trailer and Deputy Green.  The five boys were told when they were allowed to speak and when they weren’t.  They were also told when they could use the outhouse and when they couldn’t, along with when they could get a drink of water or not.  The specific job was different each day, some being harder than others.   They had been assigned everything from picking up trash to cleaning chimneys to sweeping the sidewalks.  There were harder tasks too, and they began after the first few days.   Joe hadn’t minded the hard days, as it made the time pass quickly.  He hadn’t been all that surprised when he was put on a wood cutting detail.  It seemed ironic that he had balked about doing the wood chopping there at home and now he would’ve jumped at the chance to be at the Ponderosa doing that chore instead of on a detail doing it for the International House Hotel.  But, if they said to cut wood, then Joe did it.  He just wanted to make it through to Saturday.  The other boys lagged behind him on most days and with most assignments.  Brock fussed at Joe saying that he was making everyone look bad by working so hard.  But, then Brock also talked about breaking from the detail and running off.  Joe had reminded him that he wasn’t Brock anymore he was number one and would be easily spotted in the ugly twill uniform.

Saturday finally came and with it was the chance to have a real bath over at a room set up for the five of them at the hotel.  The two guards were paid extra money to watch the prisoners as they got settled into the hotel room and were each provided their bathwater.  The jailbirds were shown how and when they would get to other chores for the day. They were told to keep a towel around them once they had gotten out of the tub because they would have to wash their own uniforms and wait for them to dry.  Joe sat in the small room and watched as his ugly blue shirt waved at him through the window.  He hoped it would dry before Roy made it back over to the hotel.  By six that night all of the jailbirds, a name they liked over the term prisoners, were rounded up and taken back to the jail where they were fed and waited for visiting hours.  Joe ran his fingers through his curly hair, and wished he had a real hair brush.  He was afraid to ask Roy for any favors so parting his locks with his fingers would just have to do.  The time went by quickly and Joe heard the noise outside of the jail cells.  It was eight o’clock and in walked Chris’ mother.  She went right over to his cell and pulled him as close as she could and kissed him on the forehead.  Joe moved away from the scene as far as he could in the cramped cell next to the other boy.  Next came Mrs. Horne and she brought the boy’s older sister with her.  They handed out cookies to all of the five boys, but Joe had politely declined.  If it wasn’t from Hop Sing then Joe didn’t want it.  Not too much later Brock’s uncle showed up and Roy had allowed the man to sit down on a three legged stool and jaw with his nephew.  Joe pulled himself up on his cot and was just able to look out of the heavily barred window.  He strained to see if there was perhaps a buckskin horse tied up at the hitching post next door.  There wasn’t nor did he spot either of his brother’s horses.  Joe slunk back down on his cot and pulled his knees up to his chin.  He should have known better.  Pa had said it, so it stood.  He was quite done with Joe.  It was bad enough that everyone else had someone and he didn’t but now Joe knew that three of his cellmates would be taunting him again about no-one showing up for him.

“Joe?  My Ma brought me some cake, you want a piece?  It’s okay ‘cause she brought two pieces,” Chris whispered, not wanting the greedier of the boys to hear his offer.

Joe tried to fake a smile and replied, “Thanks, Chris — thank you, Mrs. Hawkins.  I’m just not all that hungry.  I appreciate it though.  You two have a good visit, don’t mind me I’m going to grab some shut-eye.”

Chris and his mom exchanged glances, knowing the boy in the next cell was having a hard time of it.  Deciding to leave Joe alone, Chris moved closer to his mother and told her about his week.

The jobs got tougher and so did the long wait for six weeks to be over.  Some days it was so unseasonably hot that Joe had wanted to take his shirt off, but he had been reprimanded by Deputy Green that he’d better stay dressed or he could get some corporal punishment.  Joe frowned when he had said that, knowing good and well that Roy Coffee would tear into anyone who hurt any of the five boys who he was ultimately responsible for.  But, Joe had done as he was told.  He took it seriously what Judge Wheeler had told him.  Joe knew it wasn’t just the six weeks he had to think about now.  There was a year on probation after he served his time and Joe wanted his darn record to be expunged.  

By the fourth Saturday Joe considered himself to be a lifer there at the jail, or at least that was what he felt like.  Four times he had watched the other jailbirds get visits from their families and four times no-one came by to see him.  This Saturday did bring news, however.  Chris’ mother had raised enough to finish paying off his debt and she was bringing it in the next day and he had already been told he’d be getting out.  Joe was happy for him, though he was sad to see his friend leave.  That night Chris called out to Joe after he thought he heard him crying.

“Joe? Joe, you okay?” Chris whispered, pulling himself as close to Joe as he could get.

Joe moved over to the bars that separated him and his friend.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  I think I’m getting a cold or something,” Joe remarked and wiped at his eyes.  He had let the fourth Saturday finally get to him.  Joe never remembered feeling so low.  He missed his life and he missed his family.  And now, on top of that, his friend was going to leave.  Joe knew his father could have easily paid his damages for him, and he could be going home too.  

“Joe, come see me when you get out, okay?”

“Can’t promise you anything, Chris.  I don’t know where I’m going when my time is up in two weeks.”

“You’re going to go home, right?”

“I don’t think I have a home any more.  For that matter I don’t think I have a family there waiting for me anyway.  But, if I stay anywhere close by I will come see you.  But, Chris, you have to do me a favor, okay?”

“Sure, Joe.  What?”

“My friend Mitch Devlin lives at a ranch just about five miles from your place.  Once you’re all settled go look for him, you can tell him I sent you.  He’s a good guy, and one that won’t get you into the trouble like we got into.  He likes to hunt and fish and all kinds of stuff you two can do together.  So, do that, do that for me.  It’s my fault that I didn’t try to get you two together before now.”

“Nothing was your fault, Joe.  Things just happen.  I’ll look up your friend.  You take care of yourself, don’t give up.”

Joe brushed some spent tears from his eyes, being glad it was dark in the room.  He reached through the cell bars and shook Chris’ hand.

Once Chris’ cell was empty the other boys took it upon themselves to really harass Joe.  He tried to ignore them and he even had punched Pete Horne while out on work detail.  Pete didn’t rat as they were all too close to the six week mark.  But he swore he’d get Joe at some other time after they were out of the jail.  Joe smiled when he had said that.  Lots of luck, Joe thought.  He wasn’t planning on sticking around after getting free.  There wasn’t much of a point to staying around where no-one would even visit you in a jail once a week.

The four jailbirds had the roughest last week imaginable.  The Golden Curry Mine had been replacing miles of timber which meant the old lumber had to be hauled out of the tunnels and into the street to the waiting wagons.  All four boys were completely played out by the time they were taken back to their cells.  Only Brock had eaten the first night.  Joe had passed out cold the minute he had sat down on his bunk.  The Horne twins fought a few minutes before they passed out but they, too, slept through that first rough night.  Joe strained his neck looking towards what he thought was his brother Hoss’ horse just down the street from where he worked at the mine.  Joe climbed up onto one of the wagons and hoped he could get a better look.

“You get down from there, number five!” yelled Deputy Green, spotting what Joe was doing.

“Just a minute!” Joe called down, trying for a better vantage point on top of the rotten lumber.

Before Joe could discern if it had been his brother he felt the crack of a piece of wood at his back.  Deputy Green was on top of the wagon right next to him and he had flailed a thick hickory stick right at Joe’s backside.

“Hey!”  Joe yelled.  “I said I’d be right down!”

“I said now!” The deputy screamed at his charge.

Joe looked indignantly at the man and had to draw from all he had left inside of him.  He was almost at the six week mark of getting out of jail.   It was too close to blow it now.  Joe eased down off of the wagon and stood rubbing his pants and looking at the deputy.

“I warned you what could happen, number five!”  The other man smiled.

Joe sucked in air and turned to go remove more wood.  It wasn’t worth getting more time added to his term just to go after the deputy.  But, if he ever saw him when he was free, Joe decided he’d find his own hickory stick and plant it somewhere good.

Brock was the first one dressed in his street clothes which his uncle had brought back to the jail.  The old drunk had even remembered to bring a comb and Brock tried his best to spruce up before Roy turned the key and let him out.  Brock waved to Joe and the Horne twins then he beat a hasty exit out of the jail.

The next two jailbirds to be released were the Horne twins.  Joe figured that Roy must be letting everyone out using the numeric system as number one and numbers two and three were getting out before he was.  He watched as Pete sneered his way towards him and ducked out flanked by Dev who did glance and nod over at Joe.

“Sheriff Coffee?  You’re getting me out now, right?” Joe sang out after all the other cells stood empty.

Roy walked back to Joe’s cell and he was wearing a deeply etched frown.  From past experience Joe knew the look well.

“What’s wrong, Sheriff?  It’s been six weeks and everyone else has gone.  You’re going to let me go today, right?”

Roy sighed and tried not to reach out to the boy.  He had to stay professional though his heart ached for Little Joe.  The boy had endured weeks of nobody showing up, taunts by other cellmates and even the crack of a hickory stick which had caught him on the backside.  Now he had to tell the kid more bad news.  “Little Joe, here’s the thing.  You got those six weeks for the damages but even though that’s now paid in full you still owe for the livery stable.  That’s gonna cost you three more days.  Now that ain’t all that long, Boy, especially after all you’ve been through.  So, just get you some rest without none of those loudmouths to bother you tonight.”

“I don’t understand, what do I owe at the livery?”

“Your horse, Joe, she’s been there since I brung you into town that first day.  Well, I can’t let you leave owing anyone since you don’t have no money to your name.  So, I spoke to the judge and he said if you’ll finish out the week that your livery bill will be paid and you’ll have that pinto of yours back.”

Joe sank down onto his bunk feeling winded.  It had never even dawned on him that his pa or at least one of his brothers wouldn’t have come and taken Cochise home.  The poor horse had sat around for six weeks like the prisoner that number five was now.  Joe drew his hand up to his eyes and tried to push back the tears.  He finally spoke up a few minutes later.

“Sheriff, I – I’ll work out the week for my horse.  I’m kinda tired right now, think I’ll just sleep.”

“Sure, Joe, sure you go on to sleep,” Roy replied, feeling bad for the boy.  He closed the door to the main room of the jail knowing that Joe just needed a good long cry.  Roy figured the kid had earned one.

Roy had been correct in his assumption.  Just as soon as Joe heard the door being closed he finally let loose with six weeks of tears.  He couldn’t do that with those loud mouths he had been rooming with, and with his heart hurting the way it was he just needed to get it all out.  Joe hoped that the tears spent would be his last and that he would be a hardened jailbird, or number five, when he finally got released in a few days.  “I’ll get you out of that darned livery, Cochise,” Joe muttered to himself and then mercifully fell to sleep.

“Sheriff Coffee?” Joe called out to the man in the next room.

“Yeah, Little Joe, what do you need?”

“Well, I was just wondering — it’s getting kinda late, I am getting released tonight, right?”

Roy nodded and brought in the keys to the jail cell door.  “I was just getting to it.”

“You don’t happen to still have my clothes, do you?”

Roy sighed and pulled the cell door open and replied, “Sorry there, Joe. I looked for them earlier, must’ve gotten thrown out weeks ago while I wasn’t looking.”

Joe frowned but shrugged his shoulders trying to push the memory of his personal clothes away.  But, as he stared down at his number his anger was kindled.  He hoped his pocket knife was still inside his saddle bags on his horse.

“Come on here and I’ll set you up with your gun and holster,” Roy directed the boy to the front room.

Joe breathed deeply, though it still smelled like a jail at least he wasn’t behind any bars.

“I had them bring you your horse, she’s right outside here.  Oh and one of the owners of the Golden Curry said you done such a good job for him these last three days you got yourself a little bonus!” Roy smiled and handed the boy two dollars.

“Thanks so much, Sheriff!” Joe smiled proudly.  “Now I can get some food on my way out of town.”

Roy reached over and shook the boy’s hand and grinned over at him.  “You just behave yourself and the next time I see you maybe I’ll let you call me Roy again.”

Joe nodded and replied, “I’d like that, Sheriff.  I’m awful sorry to have caused you problems and I’m reformed as they say.  I’m never going to spend a night in a jail cell ever again.  Thanks again.”

Roy watched as Little Joe walked through the front door in his blue uniform.  He had to fight back a smile at the kid.

Joe rode his horse down to the mercantile and picked up just enough to get him through the night.  He settled for a slightly used coffee pot, coffee, some sugar and a couple of cans of beans with an opener.  He still had his field gear in his saddle bags so he knew he’d have a fork and a cup which would come in handy to make his first meal.

Cochise had been fed and given water before Joe had fixed his campfire. Joe had spoken to his friend and apologized thoroughly to the horse for having to stay at the livery stable for so long.   He settled the coffee pot just above the flame and anxiously waited on the brew to be ready.  Before eating there was something he had been yearning to do for weeks.  Joe found his old pocketknife in his saddlebags where he had left it and sat down cross legged in front of the fire.  Reaching down he carved a patch of his shirt off.  It was just the embroidered number five.  He held it in his hands and fought back the memories of the last six weeks.

“We don’t allow any open burns around here,” the voice from just outside of the clearing rang out.

Joe sprang to his feet totally caught off guard.  He tried to reach for his pistol but he had forgotten that he had slung the holster over his saddle there on the ground.  Before he could go for it, a man appeared heading towards him pulling behind a buckskin horse.  Joe stared over at his father, his heart pounding in his chest.  For some strange reason his first thought was to call the man Mr. Cartwright.  The word Pa was stuck securely inside his throat.

“We had a fire five years ago and this is all newly seeded forest.  You go put out that campfire,” Ben insisted.

Joe had wondered for weeks what he would say to his father if they ever were to meet again.   Now was his chance, and yet he couldn’t find any words to say.  It sounded like Pa was telling him to douse the fire that he had worked so hard to get started.

“I was just going to have some coffee and be out of here by daylight,” Joe finally responded cautiously.

Ben shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Afraid not, Boy, you need to put out that fire and pack up that gear too.  We don’t allow vagrants either, they usually cause trouble.”

Joe would have cried over what Pa had just said, but he was too shocked to do it.  He walked over to his campfire and poured the not yet hot coffee out onto the coals.  Joe kicked dirt towards the remaining embers and then headed to pack up his saddle bags, bedroll and the rest of his things.  Looking down at his blanket he noticed he had left the carved piece of twill there.  Mindlessly he stuffed the material inside his pants pocket.

Ben watched as Joe cleared the camp, settling his possessions onto Cochise.  He swung up onto Buck and watched as his son brought the reins up into his hands.

“Follow me back,” Pa called over to the kid and turned his mount towards the house.

Joe couldn’t believe his ears, he was absolutely incredulous.  One minute he was being ordered out of the thinnest little strip of land that the Ponderosa had, and the next minute he had been commanded to follow the man back to the ranch house.  Joe had no idea what was going on, and was half tempted to spur his horse the other way.  He knew he couldn’t.  Joe had to at least say the words, even if they were the last ones that were ever exchanged between his pa and him.  He lightly kicked at Cochise’s sides and came up behind the buckskin horse.  Staying behind just far enough, Joe followed his father on home.

Ben dismounted at the front hitching post and watched as Joe did likewise.

“Take these horses into the barn,” Pa called over to the perplexed young man and walked to the front door.

Joe shrugged his shoulders, still not knowing what to say or do.  He figured he was apparently going to stay for a while, but as to how long he was unsure.  Pa hadn’t said anything much more than to bark a few orders his way.  He hadn’t read gladness or any emotion at all on his father’s face.  But, then it would’ve surprised Joe far more if Pa had greeted him with a hug.  Not asking any questions for the time being, Joe pulled both Buck and Cochise into the barn and got them all settled.  He noticed both Adam and Hoss’ horses were not in their stalls so Joe figured that left him alone with his father.  Well, of course Hop Sing should also be home, Joe figured, but the Chinaman was none too pleased with him on their last day together.

Carefully, as though he was walking on broken glass, Joe entered the ranch house.  His eyes fell on the living room.  He closed his eyes when he thought back to the day he had tried to etch everything inside the room into his memory, knowing he was leaving for jail.  Joe was already starting to worry.  Just the thought of facing his father there inside the house again twisted his stomach into knots.  He couldn’t help remembering how Pa had torn his hand off of his arm the night Joe had tried to stop him from walking away.

Ben walked from the kitchen into the living room where he noticed the boy standing so still.

“Go back there,” Ben began, and pointed towards the room he had just vacated.  “Hop Sing’s got your bath water ready.  Go get cleaned up and meet me back in here when you’re done.”

Joe still had no idea what was going on and why his father was so concerned about him taking a bath.  He hadn’t really been welcomed home as far as Joe could tell.  There had been no clap of a hand to his back, no arm slung across his shoulder and definitely no sign of a hug incoming either.  The fact of the matter was that Pa had offered very few words at all.  Joe was still not sure just how long he would be staying anyway.  His father had told Roy over a month ago that he was quite done with his youngest son, and Joe had yet to find out if that was still the case.  When he noticed that Pa was still standing in the exact same spot where he had called out to him a few minutes earlier, Joe shook himself from his musings and headed past the man turning into the kitchen.

The bath felt like heaven.  The water was just the right temperature not like the freezing bathwater at the International House.  Joe allowed himself to momentarily forget about who was waiting for him out there in the living room and what the outcome of any discussion might be.  He had dreamed of being home, at least in those first few weeks.  After that he wouldn’t allow himself to think he’d ever get to come home.  After no-one had shown up on visiting day Joe had tried to trick himself into believing he didn’t care for the Ponderosa anyway.  But, once he had watched Chris’ mother lean in through those cold steel bars and press her lips against his friend’s forehead, Joe knew just how badly he missed his pa.

Joe sat in the tub for a long while trying to get up the nerve to get dressed and face what was waiting for him in the next room.  He dreaded putting on that old ugly blue uniform, even though it was now missing the number five from the shirt.   Finally getting up the nerve, Joe wrapped one of the towels that Hop Sing had left for him around his waist and took the other one and tried to dry off his curls.  He turned towards the chair where he had left the jailbird clothes and dropped his mouth open.  His clothes were there, but they were the ones he had left with Sheriff Coffee a month and a half ago.  It wasn’t a duplicate set as the bright green corduroy jacket was lying there too.  Joe shook his head, unable to figure out how they had suddenly appeared.  He lifted his shirt up off the chair and saw that it was freshly washed and pressed.  Joe pulled on his underclothes and then his pants.  He wasted no time doing up the buttons on his shirt, and couldn’t help smiling to know he wasn’t in that ugly blue twill any longer.  Pulling on his boots Joe’s glee was gone.  There was the matter of talking to his father, the same man who had refused to talk to him six weeks prior.  He was the same man who had pushed him away and walked off so coldly.  It was the same Pa who had said he was quite done with him.  Joe closed his eyes and thought on the fact that the last time he had seen Pa, before that night, was there in the courtroom as he was being handcuffed by the lawman.  He had just frowned over at him and walked away.  Pa had walked away for six straight weeks, never looking back.  Now he had to go and face his father.   Hesitantly, Joe tried one last time to catch his breath and then he moved out of the bathhouse, through the kitchen and into the living room.   Pa was still standing in the same spot.

“We have some things we need to get out into the open,” Ben began as he watched the boy move across from him.

Joe bowed his head, waiting for whatever was to come.  He had positioned himself a good ten or twelve feet from his father at opposing ends of the living room, but still there in front of the fireplace.  “Yes, Sir,” Joe answered.

“Well?  What have you got to say for yourself?” Pa asked his son.

Joe bit at his bottom lip and tried to stop his heart from beating so hard in his chest.  He felt a bit weak at the moment, unsure what was expected of him.  “I don’t know what to say, Sir.”

“Go on. Say whatever you think I should hear.”

“I thought I knew six weeks ago, but I don’t know what I should say now,” Joe whispered.

“You’ve got nothing to say to me now?” Ben asked again.

Finally the dam let loose and Joe’s emotions came pouring out of him.  He couldn’t have stopped the flow if his life had depended on it.  “How could you walk away from me?  How could you say you were quite done with me?  How could you let me go six weeks without hearing from you or seeing you?”  Joe called over to his father, his voice riveting yet having a tremble to it as well.

“First of all, let’s address why you were gone for six weeks,” Ben stated firmly.

“Because I messed up that’s why.   Because I didn’t listen to you either, I know.  I let you down, I know that.  I’ve got a record now — I know that too!  I’ve disappointed you and I’ve shamed my whole family because of all that I did,” Joe answered, fighting for control but losing the battle with keeping his tears from showing.

“Some of that’s true.”

Joe looked up finally and tried to register what Pa had just said.  “It’s ALL true,” Joe insisted.

“No, not all of it is true.  You don’t have a record.”

Staring over at Pa the boy looked so utterly confused.  “What?  The judge said that I do.  I know you were there —even though you weren’t up front — that’s what he said, it’s recorded in the county books.  I’ve got a record now.”

Ben shook his head and replied, “No you don’t.  You got off with a warning.”

“I got off?” Joe asked, his tone showing disbelief.  “I got six weeks in jail.  I got a record of that.  I’m also on probation for the next year.  I had to pay for all of those damages to the Bucket of Blood.”

“You got a warning from the judge.  You didn’t pay for the damages I paid for them.”

Joe now thought his father was trying his best to confuse him, maybe as some bizarre form of punishment.  “My six weeks on that work program doing just about every kind of hard work paid for the damages.  Why are you saying that you paid for them?”  Joe asked, and this time he had a good amount of hurt in the tremble of his voice.

“You paid me by working on that program.  I settled up with the damages before Roy even took you in to the jail.  I also had a meeting that morning with Bruno to make sure there weren’t more serious charges leveled at you.  Fortunately your brother Adam decided not to press those charges either.  I spoke with the judge, the town council and Sheriff Coffee before I got home that day.  I was well aware that Roy was coming here to take you away.”

“I just don’t understand,” Joe muttered trying his best to piece it all together.  “You’re saying I worked those jobs, I sat in that jail and all not because I owed a debt to society — but that it was to pay a debt I owed to you?”

Ben nodded and responded, “That’s right. Your labor paid me back.”

“You mean you let me sit in that danged jail for six straight weeks when I didn’t have to?” Joe fought to control his temper, but he couldn’t help that he was getting angry over the charade.

Ben finally walked closer to his son and said, “Yes, I let you stay in that jail.”

“Why!  Why would you do that to me?!”  Joe sounded out his anger climbing.

“I did that to teach you.”

“Teach me what?”   Joe snapped, hurt and anger now mixing together and coming out in his tone of voice.

Ben grabbed his son up by his shoulders and looked piercingly into the boy’s eyes.  “I wanted to teach you how your life can be ruined by making the wrong decisions!  Do you realize what would have happened if anyone in that saloon had been killed?  Your own brother could have opened up an artery and bled out before you could’ve gotten him to the doctor’s office!  Then there’s Bruno — he took a chair to the head— that could’ve killed him!  Then, instead of six weeks in a jail you would’ve been in Territorial Prison!  You would’ve been somewhere far beyond my reach.  The best I would’ve been able to do then is to get off a letter to you once a month, and most likely you wouldn’t even get that.  You think jail is rough?  Jail is a Sunday social compared to prison life.  Most men don’t last in there a month let alone a year!  If you or those friends of yours had killed someone, inadvertently or not, you’d suffer every single day for the rest of your life, and so would I.  Your choices have consequences, Joseph!  If it took six weeks of sitting in a jail to teach you to listen and make better choices then I’d say you got off easy.  It’s better than you living out your days in a prison.  It’s better than me going to my grave grieving you!”

Joe couldn’t talk.  He tried to focus in on what all Pa had said to him.  Joe could feel the intensity in his father’s grip on his arms, and it frightened him.  “Okay,” Joe apprehensively began, “I know now why you went along with getting me put in jail.  But, what about all those weeks when you never came to see me?  No-one came to see me.  I was the only one in that whole jail who didn’t have anyone.  Do you know what that did to me?  Do you care what that did to me?”

“Six weeks of being alone, huh?” Ben addressed what the kid had said.  “No-one visiting you on all those Saturdays, right?”

“That’s right,” Joe nodded, his bitterness bleeding out in his words.

“I was there every Saturday,” Ben announced.

Joe shook his head, “No, you NEVER came!  Everyone else had a parent or some relative.  Everyone but me!” Joe insisted.

“I was there, Joseph.  I was right there in Roy’s office from eight o’clock until nine every single Saturday.

“Then why didn’t I see you?”

“I wasn’t there so you could see me, I was there so I could see you.  I would sit in Roy’s office.  I could see you from my vantage point, but you couldn’t see me.”

“I still don’t understand — why even bother to come to the jail if you didn’t let me know?  It’s worse now that I know you were there and didn’t even come and tell me.”

Ben drew in a deep breath and his face took on a severe look once again, “You were the one who needed to learn a lesson, Joseph.  I didn’t need to be punished or taught.  But, you did.  I went there to see you.   I went there to make sure you were okay.  I also went into your cell at least once a week.  Roy would let me in after lights out and when we knew you were good and asleep I’d sit there on your bunk right next to you.  I’d just sit there and look at you and thank the good Lord that you hadn’t ended up in prison for what you had done.   I did that every week, for six weeks.”

“All just to teach me a lesson,” Joe shook his head, still not understanding it at all.

“What do I have to say to get you to understand?  I told you before all of this that you were one of the fortunate ones!  Do you understand that there are a lot of boys your age who don’t have anyone who cares enough to do what I did?  Do you think it was easy on me, or easy on your brothers for that matter?”

“I just wish you had hit me, yelled at me, or sent me to my room.  Anything would’ve been better than six weeks of thinking you didn’t care about me,” Joe continued to go back to the way it had all begun.

“I know that’s what you would’ve preferred, Joseph!  That’s why I didn’t do any of those things.  You have taken your whole family for granted, when there are plenty of boys your age who would give anything to have what you do!”

“What do I have?” Joe replied bitterly, his tears coming back from the reminder of all of the weeks he sat alone in his jail cell while the other boys had family around.  All that time Joe truly felt like he had nothing.

Ben shook Joe’s shoulders roughly trying to get through to him, “What do you have?!” he shouted to the rafters.  “What do you have?  You have two brothers who would give their lives for you!   That’s what you have!  You have a home and you have people to care for you!   That’s what you have!  You have a father who has loved you every single minute of your life!  That’s what you have!”

“I’m sorry — I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have said it,” Joe cried remorsefully, as he saw the pain very evident all over his father’s face.

Ben slowly eased up on the grip he had on his son’s shoulders, finally releasing him altogether.   He turned his back away from the boy momentarily as he readied to make his final statement.

“So, now, Joseph, we’ve come to the hardest part of this whole ordeal.  I told you that you had to deal with those bad choices that you made and you served your six weeks, perhaps learning about choosing more wisely in the future.  But, you have one last big choice to make.  I won’t make this choice for you, it’s something that’s only yours.  The two choices are these, if you choose to stay here and be a member of this family then you can choose to go on up to your room.  I will expect you to be an active member of this family and that means you have responsibilities.  You may not like some of those, but that’s what it takes to be part of this family.  You also have to listen more to what you are warned about.  I don’t expect you to be perfect, because none of us are.  But, you are expected to do your best.  Now that’s one choice.  The other choice is that you can take the clean clothes on your back, which I did steal from Roy’s office by the way. And you can go out the same door you came in a little while ago.  You can leave, take your horse and go anywhere you want to.  That’s your choice.  As much as it would hurt me, I’m telling you that if you choose to do that, then you’re on your own and that’s when I will be quite done with you.  So, you decide, Joseph.  You can go to your room and stay and be a part of this family.  Or you can go and I will wish you well.  Make your choice, Joseph, and you’ll get no resistance from me either way.”

Joe looked over at the front door and then his eyes sought the staircase that led to his bedroom. He stared up at his father.  Joe hadn’t been able to call him “Pa” since he had left home six weeks ago.  Even now, he was finding the word still lodged in his throat.  Pa hadn’t shown him any kind of outward affection ever since he’d come through the front door, and he wasn’t sure if it would ever be offered to him again.  The six weeks apart had hurt their relationship there was no doubt about that.  But, there also was no doubt as to which choice Joseph Cartwright would be taking that night.  He looked up into his father’s eyes and asked, “If it’s okay with you, Sir, I’d like to go on up to my room.”

Ben drew in a deep breath and then nodded over to his son.  “That would be fine.  And tomorrow when both of your brothers get home I’ll be expecting you to give them both an apology.”

“Yes, Sir,” Joe nodded.

“And, they left the rest of that wood that you need to cut and stack,” Ben made the mention of the chores that his son had left behind.

“Yes, Sir,” Joe responded quietly.  “Is it okay for me to go up to my room now?”

“Yes it is,” Pa answered and watched his son take his first couple of steps up to his bedroom.  Once he had heard Joe’s bedroom door close there was one last thing he needed to do.

Joe entered his bedroom noticing that the lamp was already lit.  He presumed that Hop Sing had taken care of it while getting the room ready earlier.  Joe’s eyes surveyed all of the things that he had missed for so many weeks.  His hand fell to the footboard of his bed and then touched on the soft quilt on top of the feather mattress.  Joe was still missing something.  He missed his father, the way he had been with him prior to the whole bar incident.  Joe could only hope that their relationship would grow tighter in the weeks ahead.  He was tired, and decided that he had enough of worries for one day.  Walking to the head of the bed to pull down the blankets so he could simply crawl under them, Joe noticed something lying up by his pillow.  He pulled the book up and looked at it.  Joe knew it was his father’s Bible and stuck between the pages was a white sheet of paper.  Puzzled over why Pa would have left his Bible there like that, Joe pulled the paper out and stared down at it.  It said simply Luke chapter fifteen verse thirty-one.  Joe thumbed through the New Testament and found the correct spot.  He held the book down just underneath his lamp to get a good look at the careworn page.  The verse said, ”And he said, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.”

Joe set the Bible down and convulsed in tears full of sorrow and joy.  He knew why Pa had left the verse out.  Joe knew that it had been the story of the prodigal son.  He figured Pa had left the statement there to show how he really felt, even if he couldn’t yet show his son due to all that had happened.  Joe knelt down alongside of the bed, just as he had back when he was a child in prayer.  Closing his eyes Joe prayed for the first time in many months.  He hoped that God had heard his request.  It was then, just when Joe had begun to get off of his knees, that he heard the sound of the door opening.  He turned to see his father standing there in the doorway and watched as he took a few steps inside of the room.

“Pa?” Joe called out quietly, in total disbelief.  He thought he had forgotten how to say the word “pa” as it had been so long in coming.  But, it had come out second nature to him now just seeing the look on his father’s face.

Ben walked slowly to the end of the bed, stopped and cast a loving smile at his youngest kneeling there on the floor.

“Come here,” Pa called softly, holding out his arms to the boy.

Joe didn’t hesitate or even take another breath.  He hurried into the waiting arms of his pa.  He felt those arms pulling him to his chest and Joe couldn’t help but sob out his relief towards the man who now held him.

“Welcome home, Son.  I’ve missed you.   I love you,” Ben whispered and bent down and softly kissed his son’s forehead.

“I love you too, Pa,” Joe whispered against his father’s vest, so happy that his prayer had been answered so quickly.  For the rest of his life he would never forget that moment.  It was the moment he had come home for good.  It was the moment Joseph Cartwright had finally realized how much love it had taken for his father to have let him go in order to help him find his way back home.  

Epilogue:

Joe wiped at his eyes and placed the small piece of material over on his night stand.  The remembrance of his days spent at the Virginia City jail had gotten to him and now he had to put it all behind him again.  Joe tried to think of happier times and he did have to fight back a smile when he remembered some of those things that Pa had let slip over the years.  He had told Joe about taking his clothes from Roy and bringing them home to be ready for his son’s triumphant return.  Ben had also let Joe in on the fact that Roy Coffee had aided and abetted him on a lot of things, including the two dollars he had given Joe.  The owner of the Golden Curry hadn’t given the boy the money.   His father had given it to Roy to give to his son.  Pa had also brought Cochise back from the Ponderosa, where she had been well cared for during the whole six weeks of her master’s incarceration.  Roy and Ben didn’t think it would hurt Joe to spend a few days on his own there at the jail to think on all that he’d gone through before going home.  That had also assisted Pa so he could be ready there in town to watch Joe heading out and see where he would choose to camp that night.  Ben had found it amusing that his son had chosen to bed down for the night right there on the ranch that he had insisted was no longer his home.  Joe had taken all of the little dribs and drabs of information to be rather amusing in hindsight.  He felt relieved to know his father had never been far away during his imprisonment, though unbeknownst to Joe at the time.  Ben had even mused to Joe that instead of a fine robe being brought out for his prodigal son, like in the parable, he had chosen the green corduroy jacket.

Joe walked over to his desk, having a sudden urge to write to his friend and former cell mate.   Chris, the only other surviving jailbird, had straightened his life out very well after his time served.  His mother had scraped up the money to send the boy off to college back east and he was excelling.  Joe pulled a piece of paper out of the cubby hole in his desk and grabbed the pen and inkwell.  He began to compose the letter.

Dear Chris, or number four, 

I don’t know if you’ve heard yet, but we lost another one of our cellmates.  My Pa told me that Brock was killed trying to hold up a bank in Tucson.  That just leaves you and me now.  I ran into your Ma the other day and she told me you’re doing great!  I’m really proud of you.  Not much new here, Pa keeps me busy, and so do my brothers.  I saw Mitch the other day too, and he said if I wrote to let you know he misses you.  I do too.  Your Ma said you might be able to come during Christmas break.  That would be great.  Maybe you and I could go and check out the Bucket of Blood? (Just kidding of course!)  Write me back when you can get away from all that learning stuff.  Hope to see you at Christmas.  Keep up those grades!  Your friend — Joe  —  or number five! P.S.  I think my Pa was right, you and me are two of the fortunate ones!

Joe secured the letter in an envelope and sealed it up.  Then exhaustion had finally taken over.  He moved to his bed and crawled under the covers.  Right before he closed his eyes a thought came to him.  He knew what he needed to do first thing in the morning.

Ben heard the sound coming from outside and he was puzzled.  Adam and Hoss had left a few hours ago and he had presumed that Joseph was still fast asleep in his bed.  He decided to venture up to his youngest son’s room, to see if that was the case before checking on the noise from outside somewhere.

Joe tossed another piece of chopped firewood on the ever-growing pile.  He drew up another block of wood and slammed the heavy sledge hammer down onto the wedge.  Joe pulled back the splintered wood and fought with the wedge again.  It had been slow going but he was making progress in finishing the chore he had put off for several days.

Ben walked across the front porch and stared down at his son.  He watched quietly for a few minutes, not wanting Joe to see him.  Finally, fighting a smile, Ben spoke out.

“Joseph?”

Joe mopped his forehead with his shirtsleeve and turned towards the sound.  “Oh, hi, Pa!”

Ben stepped down into the yard and was astounded to see over a cord of wood cut and stacked over on one side and another half of a cord sitting over to the left of where his son stood.

“What brought on this diligence to get your chores done, Joseph?”

Joe shrugged his shoulders and fought for an answer.  “I don’t know, Pa.  I guess — well — I’ve been putting it off and it needed to get done.”

Ben shot his son a knowing smile and reached over and patted the boy’s shoulder.  “This wouldn’t by any chance have to do with me telling you about Brock last night?  Did it bring back old memories of chores not done in the past?  Or was it memories of your time behind bars that did it?”

“No.  I never gave that another thought,” Joe insisted, though his eyes gave away the truth.

Ben nodded and then drew out the envelope which he had put in his pocket.  “I saw this on my desk a little while ago.  It was with the mail I’m sending off.  Did you happen to write Chris last night?”

“Oh — no — I wrote that a while ago, never got around to handing it over to you to get mailed, Pa.  I got it off of my desk this morning and figured since you’re going into town today it might just as well go out too.”

Ben grinned over at the boy, amused by his terrible acting abilities.  He tucked the letter back into his vest.  “I’ll mail it for you, Son.  Well, don’t let me stop you, looks like you’re almost done.”

“Yeah, I’m almost there,” Joe sighed, and pulled up another piece of wood to split.

Ben climbed up the steps to the porch and stared over at his son again.

“Oh, Joseph?”  

Joe turned his attention back to his father and replied, “Yes, Sir?”

Ben held out a small ugly blue piece of cloth which bore an embroidered number five on it.  “I thought you were still in your room so I went up to wake you.  I found this on the floor.”

Joe sent a wry smile over at his father.  He had been caught now.  Joe knew his father was well aware of what had been on his mind the previous night.

“Oh, that old thing?  Wonder where it came from?” Joe feigned ignorance about his former jailbird number and why it had been stashed in his room as a keepsake.  He walked over and reached for it.

“I’m not sure, Joseph, maybe you should ask Roy about it?” Pa teased.  He knew it was okay now.  The two years since Joe’s time in lock-up had been spent clearing up any differences between both father and son.  Those old wounds had long since healed.

Joe shook his head, amused by the way the two of them could now joke about what had been such a traumatic experience.

“Leave me alone, I’ve got to get back to my chores or Sheriff Cartwright here will get onto me,” Joe insisted, as he tucked the piece of cloth into his pants pocket.

“Hop to it number five!” Ben called out sternly.  He gave his son a quick wink, and then turned back for the house.

The End

2-12-2025   (Happy Birthday, Lorne/Pa)

Dedicated to Pat, for all your support

(And to my story consultant Rob)

**I hope this story will replace that awful story “Raising the Stakes” which I wrote over twenty years ago.  Now I’m quite done with hearing about that one! ***