Summary: Little Joe gets kidnapped during a bank robbery. Will he survive? Will he be found?

Rated: T   Word count: 7192

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The Kidnapping

 

Adam and Joe trotted their mounts into Virginia City. There was a slight breeze, but the sky was cloudless and the sun was bright. Joe was going to pick up the payroll from the bank and Adam was seeing to putting in their order for line shack resupply at the general store. They agreed to meet at the Bucket of Blood in about an hour.

Joe had been the one to make the rounds of all the line shacks to see what supplies were needed, and he was full of energy now that he had company other than his own that he had been stuck with for the last week and a half. Adam found that Joe’s incessant chatter hadn’t even bothered him though. The whole ride into town, Joe had been flitting from one topic to another. Adam was just glad they were on good terms at the moment. Lord knows they found enough to argue about.

He waved Joe off to the bank and continued down the main street of Virginia City to reach the general store. Hitching Sport outside, Adam walked into the store to hand over the list of supplies they were asking to be ordered in. He found he was the only person in the store, so it’s didn’t take him long to discuss with Carter what they needed. As he walked back out of the store and turned toward the saloon he was to meet Joe at, there were shots and screams from the direction that he had left his youngest brother. Briefly closing his eyes and shooting a preyer skyward, Adam changed course and hurried toward where he knew his brother would be involved in trouble, whether he had tried to be part of it or not.

Meanwhile, Joe was finding it hard to hold his tongue. He hadn’t so much as walked into the bank when he was shoved back out at gunpoint. There was a shot fired inside before three more men ran out. They fired into the air to clear the crowd, and screams filled the area from people standing by. The gunman who held his pistol pointed at the youngest Cartwright reached over and yanked Joe’s gun from its holster, pistol whipped him with it, and tossed it away down the street. He grabbed Joe by the neck and bodily moved him back over to the horses, keeping the gun jammed in his ribs the entire time. One of the other men who had run out of the bank hurriedly tied Joe’s hands together and then tossed him up onto Cochise’s saddle, knotting the rope around the saddle horn as well. The gunman mounted up as well and they rode hellbent out of town, taking their hostage with them.

Joe sat his saddle well, even dazed from the hit on the head and without having the use of his hands. He was seething. He knew that if it had been Adam in his position, he wouldn’t have been caught by surprise and taken hostage. He was sure it wouldn’t have happened to Hoss either. Both of them would have noticed trouble in the bank before walking headlong into it. But he hadn’t noticed any trouble and instead found himself tied to his own horse, and sporting a black eye from his own weapon. Realistically, he knew he had done the smart thing by not fighting back in the moment, but he still felt the shame of having been taken hostage by people he knew.

The leader of the robbers was a man by the name of Tim Brockett who had been employed by the Ponderosa a few years back. He hadn’t been proven to be the one stealing from the ranch, but Joe thought now that this was rather definitive evidence. Tim never did well with following orders, nor had he ever done well with actually getting his work done. He was always trying to find a shortcut. He never was that personable, and Joe wondered how he had talked 3 other men into going into a hairbrained scheme such as this. What most concerned Joe, though, was that Tim never really liked him, and had a history of having a mean streak. This was someone not to anger if he wanted to get out of this alive.

Joe wasn’t told where they were headed. Every so often one of the robbers would reach over with a riding switch and smack him across the back with it, but other than that there was no interaction. They rode until the sun started setting, back tracking a few times, crossing some streams, and passing by steep areas where one of the other men would start a landslip after they all traversed the area, ensuring the tracks were hidden. When it started to get dark, they reigned in their mounts, and pulled Cochise to a stop with them. Tim gestured, and the rest of the men set up a cold camp. One of them pulled Joe down from his horse and forced him to the ground. As he came at Joe with more rope, Joe shoved him back and scrambled to his feet. He didn’t really have a plan, just didn’t want to be tied up again. His obstinance was short lived however, as he heard a sharp crack and felt fire across his left side. The bull whip came down on him thrice more, cutting open anything in its path. Joe fell back to his knees, gasping for breath and feeling blood run down the side of his face. Now subdued and stunned, the youngest Cartwright lay placidly as his bonds were redone.

He roused after a while to find that he was hobbled to Cochise. His hands had been untied and then retied this time with burlap wrapped over each of them so he had very limited use of them; he could still grasp small things between them, but had no use of his thumbs, preventing him from untying the hobbles. He became aware of the increasing pressure in his bladder and called out trying to get someone to untie him. Knowing the outlaws were surely watching, but ignoring him, he scuffled up to his knees again and fumbled with his belt until he got it open to relieve himself. He buried the shame of urinating in front of other people, like a common animal and got it done before shuffling back over to Cochise. At least they hadn’t separated him from the one friend he had now.

Tim strolled over and tossed a canteen down next to Joe who glared up at the other man, not wanting to accept anything from him, but also not wanting to suffer dehydration. “This is all you get, boy. I’m not giving any food to a worthless piece of shit like you.”

Joe rolled his eyes which did nothing but earn him a sharp kick to the right hip. Tim kicked him again then demanded, “What was that?”

“Thank you.” Joe ground out.

Another kick.

“Thank you. SIR.” Joe sneered at the taller man, knowing what he wanted to hear. Tim kicked him again for good measure before leaving Joe alone. He looked up at Cochise and the horse nickered softly back. “Sorry I can’t brush you down tonight, Cooch. Don’t worry, we won’t be with them for much longer.” Joe reached up and gave Cochise a quick double tap on his belly. The horse shuffled a bit before lying down giving Joe the warmth he needed to get through the cold night unharmed.

******

“How could they have gotten all the way over to Sulfur Flats in that amount of time, are you sure it was the same gang?” Adam was getting severely frustrated at the small amount of progress they were making. It had been three weeks since Joe had been taken and the Virginia City bank robbed. But it had only been three days since the last gang appearance. They had surfaced every so often hitting different banks across the region. Three days ago, the bank in Mammoth Springs had been the target. But today a bank five days ride away from that one had been hit. All the reports from that robbery matched exactly what had happened at each one prior, but the timeline just refused to line up. Same time of day, same descriptions, even taking the same amount. The only difference was this time they took no hostage.

“Adam, I’m sorry, I just don’t know. Unless someone wants to make it look like the same gang is robbing each spot.” Sheriff Roy Coffee was almost as frustrated as Adam.

“Maybe they have a relay set up. Fresh horses along the way.” Hoss chimed in.

“Could be. Could even be that it’s multiple groups of the same gang.”

At that moment the door to the sheriff’s office opened and Ben walked back in waving a telegram. “They found his horse.”

*****

Over the last three weeks, Joe had become the plaything of the group. They had discovered how much he cared for his horse and had started to use that against him. The first time one of the men had threatened Cochise, Joe thought his heart was going to stop. He had full-on panicked. And the men had laughed. They enjoyed watching Joe sob and beg. They asked what he would do to keep the horse safe. “ANYTHING!” Joe shouted. And he had kept his word, doing anything and everything they forced him into. Their favourite was humiliation. They never seemed to tire of that. Brandon, the second in command, had decided that he would gain favour from Tim if he took one of the Cartwrights down a peg. Today he had Joe stripped and collared. Brandon sat on the porch of the shack they had taken residence in and had staked the leash attached to Joe’s collar to the ground nearby.

He was drunk. Having started a bottle of whiskey around 10 AM, he was over halfway through it now that it was 2 PM. It had snowed during the night but melted into a muddy mess over the course of the morning. Brandon laughed as he kicked Joe over into the mud and gloated in the glare he got from the young man.

“You know yer family ain’t even looking for you anymore. Last time we was in town, we heard the law had given up searchin’ entirely.”

“You’re wrong. They wouldn’t give up. And soon as I can, I’m gonna get out of here and away from you!”

“Not if you want that nag of yours to stay unharmed.” He pulled his pistol and cocked it aiming at Cochise. “What d’ya say?”

“No! Please! I’m sorry.”

“You just don’t seem to get the message, do ya, kid? You don’t matter. No one even wants you around. You don’t have any friends. No body likes you.”

Joe dropped his gaze back to the muddy ground. He hard heard this same speech every day, and was actually starting to believe some of it. After all, it had been three weeks. It shouldn’t have taken that long to find him, they weren’t THAT far away from where they started. Maybe they really had given up. He knew he was a bother on a good day, and a menace on a bad day.

Brandon grinned. He enjoyed breaking the youngest Cartwright. He set the bottle down and picked up the sandwich he had made. This was the fun part. He ate most of the sandwich, but every so often tossed scraps into the mud. Joe hadn’t had a proper meal the whole time they had him. The first few days, he’d refused to eat like a dog. But soon realized he would have no other option. Hating himself and the situation, Joe reached to pick up the scraps.

“Nuh-uh. Dogs don’t use hands.” Brandon grinned drunkenly and watched Joe lean down and eat the scraps out of the mud. Joe kept his gaze down, tears of anger and frustration stinging at the back of his eyes. He hated this. Hated not being able to fight back for fear something would be done to his beloved horse. He hated going along with all of it. He hated himself.

*** ***

Night fell again, marking the 22nd night that Joe had been held captive. Joe’s one comfort was that Tim kept hobbling him with the horses. The last few nights had been cold and wet, and he’d developed a cough, but thanks to Cochise lying down next to him every night, it hadn’t gotten too bad. Joe wondered if the gang had figured out why exposure all night every night hadn’t been a problem for him yet. He was very glad though that he had “wasted time” as Adam put it when he had trained Cochise to lie down on command.

His back hurt tonight because Jesse had gotten whip happy and got in a few good lashes before being stopped. The first time, he’d been whipped, he’d also been allowed to clean the wounds. This time, they hadn’t let him. Joe shifted uncomfortably and hoped they didn’t get infected. He huffed wryly. That was a lost cause already he was sure. They hadn’t given his clothes back tonight either, so on top of bleeding and mud infused lash wounds, he had no dignity. Joe reached up and quickly tapped twice on Cochise’s belly, signaling him to lie down. “Oh Cooch, I have to get you out of here. You’re my only friend. But they’re gonna use that against us. Tomorrow. I just hope it works.”

*** ***

The next morning Jesse was the one to fetch Joe. They were leaving their hideout and moving on. His clothes were thrown at him and his hands were once more tied but this time he was not bound to the saddle. Tim took the lead to Cochise’s bridle and they rode off. Joe didn’t know how far they were planning on going, but he did know that over the last few weeks, they were just moving in circles around Virginia City. He had a plan. Flimsy as it was, it was his one chance at getting Cochise out of this situation. Then they wouldn’t have anything to hold over his head. He took a deep breath leaned over and tapped his horse three times in pattern on the left of his withers. Cochise’s ears flicked back. Joe did it again. This time, his horse pulled his gait, stumbled, and sent his rider tumbling head over heels.

Joe cried out as he hit the ground, the way his hands were bound meant he couldn’t catch himself or even maneuver his landing correctly. His right shoulder took the brunt of it, and he felt something give. Tim pulled up and turned his mount back. “What happened?” He demanded.

Brandon answered “His horse stumbled and threw him.”

“Well get him back on.”

“I think the horse is lame.” Jesse interjected.

The fourth man, Lance, drew his pistol, and Joe stopped breathing, eyes wide. But he only shot the ground near Cochise’s hooves. The horse startled and shied away, obviously limping on the left foreleg. He shrugged and re-holstered his pistol. He dismounted and walked over to Joe drawing out a lariat. He looped it around Joe and tightened it under his arms. “You’d best keep up.” With that, he remounted and they continued down the road at a trot with Joe struggling to keep the pace.

*** ***

“They found his horse? Where?” Roy stood and briskly walked to Ben to take the telegram. “This only came from Carson City. Let’s go. Maybe we can find a clue as to where they went.”

Three hours later, they pulled into Carson City and dismounted in front of the sheriff’s office there. Roy’s Carson City counterpart walked out to meet them. “You here about the pinto I telegraphed about?”

“That’s the one. Where was he found?”

“Only 5 miles out of town. I was just about to head out there and see what can be found. The girl who found him is gonna be meeting me here directly. Here she comes now.”

They turned to see a girl striding toward them leading a stout flea bitten grey. “I’m ready, Sheriff, just hadta let my Pa know.”

“Ellen, this here is Sheriff Roy Coffee from Virginia City and Ben Cartwright and his boys Adam and Hoss. It’s his third son’s horse that you found. We’re hoping that we can find him by seeing what we can around where you found that horse.”

“Hey Roy, where is Cochise anyway?”

“He’s been stabled at Ellen’s place. Her brother’s working with him cause he came in lame.”

“He’s lame? Can we see him? If he’s hurt, maybe it’ll tell us something about if Joe was hurt too.”

Ellen replied to Adam, “It’s just out of town, we can stop there on the way.”

She led them to a small homestead where they saw their youngest’s pinto standing in the corral. Hoss was first to reach the horse. He felt up and down each leg, inspected each hoof, and looked for wounds. Finding nothing, he looked up and shrugged. He led Cochise a few steps away and back. Sure enough, the horse limped and refused to put much weight on his left foreleg. “I just don’t get it. There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“Hoss, bring him over here.” Adam had joined them in the corral. He ran his hands over Cochise’s neck and stopped at the withers. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and shook his head. “I must be crazy,” he murmured under his breath. He tapped in a pattern on the left side of the horse’s withers. “Ok, walk him again.”

This time, Cochise walked steadily with no sign of a limp at all. Adam scoffed in disbelief and heard returned gasps.

“Adam, what did you do? How did you fix it?”

“I didn’t do anything Hoss, just gave him a release signal. Our little brother once spent 4 months teaching Cochise all sorts of silly tricks. Things that I once called a waste of time. He sure proved me wrong. Joe told this horse to fake a limp. He must have wanted him left behind. What I don’t know is why. Ellen, show us where you found him. We’ll use that as a starting point and spread out from there.”

*** ***

Joe had kept up for nearly an hour. As they trotted over a hill and started down, however, he lost his footing and found himself dragged behind Lance’ horse the remaining quarter mile to the next shack. Barely conscious when the horses stopped, Joe lay there in the dirt just trying to breathe. His shoulder was still painful from falling from Cochise and now he was pretty sure it was dislocated. He hoped that they would just leave him alone for one night. After some time, Joe realized that they had in fact left him alone. Without hobbling him or retying his hands or anything else other than the lasso that remained around his torso. He wiggled around until he had worked it off and sat up. Even that small amount of effort left him panting and coughing.

‘Maybe I’m worse off than I thought.‘ Joe thought to himself. He knew that they could come out any time. ‘Maybe they think I’m unconscious…… Maybe they think I’m dead.‘ Either way, this could very well be his only chance. This is why he had Cochise fake being lame. His horse wasn’t here anymore to be held over him as a threat. He dragged himself to his knees, then staggered to his feet. The sun had set, and Joe had no idea which way he should go. He decided on south. In theory, they were closer to Carson City than they were Virginia City or the ranch. If he went south, he should run into the Carson River. Rivers always lead to civilization. Eventually. Looking up at the night sky, he found it was a cloudless night. Squinting to make the stars stop moving, Joe located the constellation Orion and used it to start his escape south.

*** ***

Joe had been walking (stumbling) for what seemed like hours. He looked up at the sky again, but the stars had barely moved. He turned around and could still see the lantern that burned in the shack he had left. He hadn’t made it anywhere. The lantern light got brighter as the door opened and Joe knew that his disappearance would soon be discovered. He fell to his knees. There was no escape in the cards for him tonight.

*** ***

The next day was miserable. Joe had been caught extremely easily. Lance had not been gentle and Joe had passed out before they were even back to the shack. Tim had ordered him bound again. This time though instead of being hobbled with the horses, he was thrown in the shed behind the shack and staked spread eagle. All day he was ignored and left alone. The pain in his shoulder became excruciating and the rest of his muscles cramped. He was dehydrated and quite possibly literally starving. He had no dignity left and after at least 18 hours of being staked out had no option but to relieve himself where he lay.

The sun was just beginning to set again when Tim opened the door to the shed and gloated his way inside. “Do you regret your little stunt now? Have you finally accepted no one wants you enough to keep looking?”

Joe just glared up. He had nothing to say.

Tim laughed and held up a newspaper. “Look at this LITTLE Joe. First on the obituary notices: Joseph Cartwright. Well look at this. It wasn’t even taken out by your family. It’s a form obit put in by the sheriff. They didn’t even care enough about you to write it themselves. ‘Joseph Cartwright is assumed dead after a kidnapping during a Virginia City bank robbery. Father Ben Cartwright and brothers Adam and Eric “Hoss” declined to comment. After three weeks, the law has called off the search and declared Joseph deceased.’ ”

Joe didn’t know what to believe. They’d really given up the search? They really thought he was dead? Without finding any proof? “Do you think I’m stupid? Anyone can hold a newspaper and say whatever they want. I won’t believe it until you show me.”

Tim raised an eyebrow but didn’t lose his smile. Instead he just turned the paper around and held it down to Joe’s level. And there across the page where the very words he had read. Joe glanced at the date. It was yesterday’s paper. They really gave up. They really weren’t coming for him. He let his head fall back against the ground with a dull thunk.

With another laugh, Tim folded the paper back under his arm. “I’ll make you a deal. You behave, and I’ll not only let you out of here, I’ll give you some water too.”

“Fine.” Joe’s voice was dull and listless. He expected the kick to his ribs. “Yes, sir.” He corrected himself. Now that he had no one who wanted him, what was the point of being cantankerous? Might as well just minimize the damage done to him. This was his life for the foreseeable future.

*** ***

Now Joe found himself inside the shack. He had a corner that he’d been assigned to. He’d stopped talking except to answer direct questions. And he’d given up hope. Looking back, he realized how stupid it was to have Cochise stay behind. That had been his only friend. His brothers had only put up with him because his father had made them. And his father had only kept him around out of a sense of obligation. The longer Joe was left alone the more he thought and the further he sank into depression. The gang no longer found fun from humiliating him now that they no longer got a rise out of him. He just did whatever they asked of him silently and as quickly as he could. His right shoulder was still out of commission, but the cough had started to get better since he was being stored out of the elements now. His back was still painful from the unwashed lash wounds but Joe couldn’t even bring himself to care about that anymore either.

Lance walked in and threw a nearly empty whiskey bottle causing it to shatter against the wall just inches from Joe’s head. He barely flinched as the glass rained down on him. Instead he looked up tiredly, waiting to be told what to do.

“Get over here, slut.” Lance slurred. “You owe me for letting that nag of yours live. I shoulda shot it and then you.”

Joe stood and crossed the room to stand in front of his captor. Lance gestured down with his pistol and Joe sank to his knees. “This is all you’re good for.” Joe nodded as he watched the other man undo his belt. He knew that now. As he opened his mouth to accept his deserved punishment, the door burst open and a shot sounded. Lance fell back dead. Joe simply looked up.

“Joe!” His brother Adam shouted and fell to his knees beside his youngest brother, running his hands over Joe’s arms trying to find if he was ok. “Joe, are you alright? What hurts? Can you stand? We’ve been so worried!”

Joe looked back at Adam silently, his head slightly cocked and confused. Adam had been worried? “Why?” His voice was hoarse from misuse and Adam couldn’t understand what he asked instead handing him a canteen and urging him to drink. “Can you ride? I’m taking you home.” Joe handed the canteen back and shrugged with his left shoulder. He couldn’t understand why Adam was so concerned for him. Wasn’t he supposed to be happy Joe had disappeared? Maybe they’d found a use for him and needed him for some reason. That’s fine too. It’s not like Joe had anywhere else to go. He slowly rose back to his feet and walked outside. Adam’s hand had yet to leave his arm. Joe found it odd that the other man was still touching him. He was such a mess covered in blood, mud, and other unmentionables that had he cared, he would have disgusted himself, yet Adam didn’t bat an eye helping him into the saddle and mounting behind him. Joe wavered in the saddle and Adam wrapped an arm around his younger brother’s waist, noticing how much thinner Joe was. He didn’t have any extra bulk to begin with, but now he seemed to be just skin and bones. 

By the time they rode up to the main building of the Ponderosa, Joe was flirting with unconsciousness. It had been 5 days since he had been given anything to eat, his shoulder was in terrible pain from being jostled the whole ride, his inflamed back was made worse by rubbing against the coat Adam had put on him, and he was pretty sure some of his ribs were broken from the treatment he had forgone. 

Adam slid off Sport and gently guided Joe off the horse as well. “Come on Joe. Let’s get you cleaned up and then I’ll see to what needs to be done.” They walked slowly over to the bathhouse with Adam supporting Joe the whole way, keeping him upright when his knees tried to give out. Adam made Joe lean forward in the bath so he could inspect his back. It was a mess, obviously having been whipped and not taken care of. Some of the lashes were healing, others were still open wounds. A few were scabbed over but had puss and fluid oozing out. Adam hissed as he examined his little brother before getting supplies to clean him up. Aside from his back, he found that he would need to set Joe’s shoulder back into its socket, clean and bandage his wrists that were raw and bleeding from being tied so tightly and so often, and take care of numerous scrapes all down his arms and legs, from what he could only imagine. 

One of the hands had seen them ride in double and came over to offer whatever assistance might be needed. Adam sent him to notify the sheriff that he had found Joe and get the word to the rest of the family still out looking. Between stopping to give Joe small amounts of water, Adam got him cleaned and bandaged and then began the task of relocating the injured shoulder. He’d gotten his youngest brother upstairs to his room, knowing this would be a painful process that very likely would render Joe unconscious. 

“Joe, I’m going to relocate your shoulder. You know it’s gonna hurt. Can you tell me how long it’s been this way?”

Joe shook his head in reply. 

“What’s your best guess?” Joe shrugged. Adam sighed. “A day?” another shake. “a week?” another shake. “two weeks?” a pause then a hesitant nod. Finally Adam had gotten an answer out of Joe. He’d figure out later why he wasn’t talking. Right now, he was worried of causing more damage to the joint which had already been unstable for far too long. Adam had Joe lie down flat on the bed. He took hold of Joe’s right arm just above the elbow with one hand and braced his other hand up underneath the armpit. Pulling straight down slowly but steadily he blocked out the whimpers that escaped his younger brother until with a sickening sucking sound the joint slid back into position. He bound Joe’s arm to his chest to limit mobility and let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He looked up to Joe’s face and was surprised to find him still conscious. He had turned his face away from Adam and had silent tears tracking down, but he didn’t make a sound.

“Oh buddy, I know that hurt. But it’s over now.” Adam stroked back the curls falling into Joe’s face and sat next to him on the mattress. “Think you’re up to eating something? I don’t imagine they gave you much. How about some light broth? Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

Joe nodded, not making eye contact. Where would he go? Even if he could muster up the energy, he had no one who really wanted him around; nowhere to go; no reason to leave. He sighed and closed his eyes. If he slept, the pain would leave him alone. 

******

Now five days after his oldest brother found him, Joe was healing physically, but not so much mentally. He still only spoke if absolutely necessary, and only responded to direct questions or instructions. They’d pieced together most of what happened over the time Joe was held captive. Dr. Paul Martin had been out to the ranch and approved of all the measures Adam had taken when first returning Joe to the Ponderosa. Joe’s ribs were healing from their bruising, the lash marks were free from infection and scabbing over, and his arm would be free from its binding in 1 more week.

“You’re just gonna have to wait until Little Joe speaks on his own terms. The best thing you can do is just be there to support him. He’s gone through Hell, Ben. It won’t be an easy fix. He probably won’t be wanting to eat much, so try to encourage him to. Fluids of course, but dehydration isn’t a worry by now.”

“Thanks Paul.”

“Any time, Ben.” Dr. Martin clicked to his horse and the buggy moved off back to Virginia City. 

Hoss walked out of the barn where he had been caring for the horses. “That the doc?”

“Yes. He said physically Little Joe’s coming right along. But he couldn’t give us any help mentally. Your brother went through an awful lot, Hoss. I just hope he’s strong enough to get through the recovery.”

“Joe’s resilient, Pa. He’ll make it.”

They walked back into the main house and found Hop Sing walking back downstairs with a bowl half empty. “Mr. Cartlight. Li’l Joe only eat half of soup. He no want any more. He no talk, he no sleep. Keep looking out window.”

“Thanks Hop Sing. One of us will go sit with him.” 

Hoss walked up the stairs and knocked on his brother’s door, not expecting and not getting a response. He opened the door slowly “Alright if I come in, Shortshanks?” Joe nodded then went back to looking out the window.

“Sick of being stuck inside?” Joe shrugged. “Yeah, it’s warmer in here than outside anyway. Want me to bring in the checkers?” Another shrug. “Do ya need anything? Water or a book?” Hoss received a shake of the head that time. “Want me to stop talking and just sit here with ya?” That time, he was rewarded by Joe’s green eyes meeting his and a ghost of a grin. “Alright, well I’m here if you need me.” Hoss settled back in the chair and closed his eyes. Joe watched his brother for a while. Studying his face and just thinking. Hoss seemed to want him around. Or maybe he was just assigned to keep track of him. Joe sighed and looked out the window again. Hoss opened one eye, “You know we found you cause a little gal over in Carson City found your horse.”

Joe looked straight at Hoss that time. “Cochise?” He whispered. He didn’t continue verbally, but his eyes spoke volumes. 

“Yeah, he’s alright. Was lame when we got to him. You don’t happen to know anything about that, do ya?” Joe raised one eye brow, making Hoss clarify, “Was lame. He’s not anymore. Ol’ Adam is wise to your tricks and gave that horse some signal to walk correctly again. Said you had asked Cochise to walk that way to be left behind. Joe, why did you want Cochise left behind?” Joe inhaled and opened his mouth but no words came. He shut his mouth again and huffed, furrowing his eyebrows. He knew Hoss was trustworthy. He knew it wouldn’t be used against him. But he had gone through so much to keep his horse safe, he just couldn’t bring himself to give anything away. Then again, he didn’t have to reveal what the training was, Joe reasoned with himself.  “So they wouldn’t hurt him,” He said quietly.

“They was threatening poor little Cochise?” Hoss asked incredulously. “Why would they do that to such a nice pony?”

Joe shook his head. “They were threatening ME. It… it was a game to them. He… he’s my only friend. I couldn’t stand to see him hurt.”

“So you had him fake being lame so he’d be left behind and safe. But Joe, didn’t that just make it worse for ya?”

Joe nodded, “But at least he was safe. I thought you were still looking for me then. It wasn’t for another few days that I learned you stopped.”

Hos looked at his youngest brother aghast. “Joe, we never stopped looking for you. Pa, Adam, and I were out every day. So was Roy and Clem, and as many of the hands as we could pull from the ranch. You really thought we gave you up after just a few weeks?”

Joe didn’t know how to respond to that. Afterall, he had seen the proof. It was printed in the newspaper. He flicked his gaze between Hoss’s eyes. His brother was telling the truth. “But… the paper?”

“Joe what paper?”

“Tim. He showed me The Clarion. It was printed….” Joe trailed off. He didn’t know what to believe and had reached the end of his mental endurance. He shook his head, trying to clear it. 

“It’s ok, Little Joe. Don’t stress it. Why don’t you take a break and get some sleep? It’s ok to be tired. you’re still healing.”

Joe nodded, turning away from Hoss and settling down into his bed. 

******

“I’m tellin ya, Pa! Joe said the Clarion printed it and he saw it. Joe don’t lie. Especially about something like this.”

“Maybe we should take a trip in to talk to the printer and see what they know about it. Hoss is right, Pa. Little Joe wouldn’t make something like this up.”

“Very well. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

******

The next morning, Adam went to saddle Buck for his father. He walked into the barn and only three pairs of ears turned his way. Cochise was not visible in his stall. Swearing under his breath, Adam turned to go get Hoss, when he noticed his own horse Sport still had one ear trained to the stall next to his. Walking slowly around the corner, he found the pinto bedded down next to his little brother who was asleep leaning against the horse’s side. Cochise nickered as Adam crouched down next to them and reached out to wake Joe. 

“Joe, wake up. What’re you doing here in the barn?”

Little Joe looked blearily up at his oldest brother, not expecting to have been found. He blinked hard a few times and scrambled to his feet, Cochise following suit. “Why are you sleeping in the barn, Joe? You’ll catch cold.”

Joe shook his head and gestured to Cochise. “I know he helped last night, but you can’t expect him to lie down every …. You trained him to, didn’t you. Is this how you were ok when they kept you outside every night?” Joe nodded, a slight smile showing Adam he was right in the assumption. 

“But why Joe?” Just another head shake. Joe didn’t know how to tell his oldest brother he didn’t feel like he deserved to be in the house anymore. How could he tell him he was worthless and didn’t want the rest of them to figure that out, or else he would be cast aside and not even allowed in the barn with his horse. How could he explain that he accepted this and was willing to do anything to keep near his one friend, Cochise? So he stayed silent, not wanting to risk hearing Adam agree to all that he thought. It was nice, though, when Adam drew him into a hug and didn’t let him go. Maybe he was wanted here.

******

Later in town, Ben dismounted outside the printing office and walked inside. “Who here can answer some questions for me?” 

“What can I do you for?” A thin balding man walked toward him.

“I need to know why this office would print something as false as reporting a death that most certainly did NOT happen.”

“We only print verified facts, sir.”

“Then why was it reported that not only was my son dead but also that we had given up the search for him. Neither of these things are true by any stretch of the imagination!”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, sir. We’ve not printed any obituaries for the last 3 weeks. Not that they haven’t happened, just that no one has been submitting any for printing.”

“This is the Clarion, is it not? It would have been between 8-15 days ago. I just found out about this, or I would have done something about it sooner!”

“Like I said, we haven’t print–” “I did.”

Both men turned to see another person entering the room. “Francis, you ran an obituary without approval?” The teen nodded. “I’m sorry, Uncle. But they said they’d kill ya if I didn’t! It wasn’t a whole print. It was just one single page. I tried to refuse. That’s how I got that split lip. I knew they meant business then.”

“What day did you print it? Do you have any of the real papers from that day?” 

“It was the 14th. I’m real sorry if it caused any problems. I just hadta keep my uncle safe!”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m pleased, but I do understand needing to protect your family. Do me a favor, boy. Next time, tell the sheriff! Thanks to this stunt, my youngest son is convinced that we gave up looking for him when he was kidnapped. I need a real copy of the paper from that day to prove to him that he was fed false information.” The editor came back over holding a paper from the 14th. “Here it is. I’m sorry for all the hassle this caused.”

“Yes, well. Thank you for your help.” Ben left the printers and folded the paper into the pocket of his coat. As he rode back to the Ponderosa, he just hoped that this was enough to convince Joe they had not given up on him.

******

Adam met Ben as he rode up to the main house. “What did you find out?” 

“They’d printed it alright. But under duress. And just the one copy. Here’s the real paper that was put out that day. Is Joe awake? I’d like him to see this.”

“Awake and doing much better. He’s with Cochise. Hoss told him that his horse was here and safe, and I haven’t been able to separate them since. They’re over near the stream, under the cottonwoods.”

Ben nodded and walked over to join his youngest son. He found him right where Adam said he’d be. Cochise munching on some oats Joe had brought over with them, and Joe sitting on a bend of the trunk, leaning back against the rough bark of the cottonwood. “Joe, ok if I sit with you for a bit?” He looked at his father and nodded. Ben sat next to Joe and pulled the paper out of his pocket. “I went to town. Found something you might like to see.” Joe raised an eyebrow, but took the paper as Ben handed it to him. He read the page it was opened to. Confused, he shook his head and looked up at Ben. “Look at the date.” Joe glanced back down at the paper recognition flashed across his face. He skimmed the pages again and finally spoke, “It’s not there.”

“No it’s not. Because it never was supposed to be. That page you saw was printed under threat. We never gave up on you, Little Joe.” Joe looked as his father and Ben could see a myriad of emotions flash across his son’s face: disbelief turned into confusion morphed to understanding and then relief. “Oh Pa!” Ben caught Joe as he flung himself into his father’s arms, sobbing. The levee had been breached. Joe poured his heart out and the entire story came with it. From how he got taken, to how they used the bond with his horse against him, to how he had been treated and degraded into thinking he wasn’t worth anything and that the family didn’t want him anymore. Throughout the whole time, Ben held his youngest son offering comfort and acceptance. Was he healed entirely? No, but it was a start. And with his family there, he could overcome anything.

 

 

end