Dr Thomas Simms arrived later that morning whilst Etta was fixing the mid-day meal. Etta had said he usually made it in time for lunch and she was correct. Hoss had begun to busy himself with various maintenance chores that needed attention. He started on the fencing around the corral in which the three Cartwright horses were grazing. Hoss before breakfast had checked on Cochise, The only noticeable outward sign of yesterdays accident being the lameness to her off foreleg. But even that along with the various cut and scrapes was minor, thankfully nothing had blown up and developed any infection. He did notice though that the mares fiery spirit was dampened. He reckoned that it was due to the fright but also that she had seen nothing of her master. Little Joe as his brothers and father would attest to, and even Joe himself would agree he totally spoiled the black and white mare. Treating her almost as human. Which is why Hoss earlier in the morning had returned to the kitchen and asked for a mug of coffee. Then to the amazement of Etta had taken the mug of coffee out to the horse. Sport and Chubb, on Hoss’s call to Cochise had accompanied the pinto as she limped over to the big man. The two fit horses snorted their distaste and returned to the grass shoots while Cochise happily lapped up her morning drink. Hoss could swear she even had a smile on her black and white face.

On hearing the arrival of the buggy. Adam who had been sitting at Joe’s bedside, book in hand. At Etta’s suggestion that the sound of a familiar voice could aid Joe’s recovery. Adam had at intervals been reading aloud, paragraphs, pages and whole chapters. The bedroom door had also, at the woman’s suggestion been left ajar on the hope that the everyday sounds of the household would also be beneficial. Adam had no idea whether these suggestions were doing his brother any good. He also had no idea that his reading of the written word was being of little help to Etta’s preparation of lunch. Every time she heard the man’s rich baritone voice she had no option other than to halt in her kitchen chore, rest her head on her shoulder, close her eyes and let the fluid tones pull her in.

Keeping the page identified with the silk, ribbon book mark Adam closed the book and walked to the lace curtained window. He was now watching the elderly man as he sprightly disengaged himself from the wagon. A quirk of a smile settled on his lips prompting the hint of a dimple to indent one cheek. Before he left the room he placed the book on the top of the pine tall boy. His eyes scanned the motionless figure in the bed. His brothers personal needs had been attended to. He also had once again taken some fluid. Other than that there was no change in Little Joe’s condition.

“Thomas Simms…Adam Cartwright, the boys brother”

Adam assessed the man to be approximately the same age as his father, although there the similarity finished. The doctor was a small, wiry man with a shock of thick greying hair which had at one time been the colour of burnt gold.

“Adam,” Thomas Simms took Adams hand in a strong, firm grip, “Tom…why the woman is being so formal l have no idea.”

The doctors twinkling tawny eyes were the perfect accompaniment to his beaming smile. The energy and vitality that emanated from the man filled the room. Adam had no hesitation in warming to the man. Which was not just because it was clearly evident that apart from friendship there was nothing more intimate between Etta and Dr Thomas Simms.

Etta suggested that as lunch was almost prepared the doctor give Joe a quick examination and then they could discuss any further options over or after lunch. Adam offered his assistance to the cook. To which she kindly thanked him for his offer, but declined. She was too used to her own ways in her own kitchen and found she was very much enjoying preparing a meal for more than just herself. Not that it was going to be anything other than a plain repast. She had learned the art of the cooking and flavouring of a meal with herbs and spices and, as in the past could always be relied upon to rustle something up out of very little.

As always Hoss’s nasal, sensory, alert indicators were in good working order and directed him back to the house at the appropriate time. Sluicing his hands under the pump he scrubbed them over his face and removed traces of sweat . The big man was no easy task master even to himself. On being introduced to the doctor the two men took to each other like ducks to water. Thomas Simms was as equally conversant and knowledgeable about animal welfare as he was about the care of humans. It was clear he was impressed with the big man’s non-academic hands on approach . The doctor having completed his examination of Little Joe was now seated alongside Hoss in the comfortable drawing room. Their conversation only halted by Etta’s call for them to take their places at the table.

It was over the meal the Thomas Simms suddenly put two and two together.

“Cartwright’s…The Cartwright’s of the Ponderosa, l thought l knew that name.” Hoss and Adam smiled and nodded, “you’re a ways from home aren’t you?”

Again the younger men nodded, Hoss not being able to speak his mouth full of rice and vegetables, as like Adam. The doctor was content with his own conversation “ Paul Martin’s a good friend of mine. We were at Medical School together, as was Matthew Tone,”

Adam swallowed a little too quickly. Stifled a sudden bout of coughing with a mouthful of water and pricked up his ears. He thought that maybe he could glean some information about the woman from the good doctor. His mouth, empty of food he added his voice to that of the doctors.

“Paul, apart from being the family doctor is a good friend of my fathers.”

“Ben Cartwright, yes, Paul has mentioned him. Paul and I don’t meet up much. Medical Conferences and class reunions, that sort of thing. Though we do keep in touch by letter, sometimes just for medical reasons. He has mentioned your father and the Sheriff, Roy Coffee is it?”

“And a fine buncha old women they are at that,” Hoss’s humour elicited a burst of laughter.

“Far be it from me to disagree with you big brother but l am glad Pa isn’t here to witness such blatant disrespect.” this remark too added to the merriment.

It wasn’t until after the table was cleared and Etta had poured the men coffee that the doctor got down to the matter in hand. He started by saying that he had no criticism whatever with Etta’s diagnoses or treatment. That she had done everything she could and had done it extremely well and in a professional manner. Agreeing with Etta that Joe’s arm could be now set in a cast. The swollen left knee and ankle would have to reduce dramatically in size before they too could be immobilised in the same fashion. That the boy was so deeply comatose was a worry. Thankfully he had not suffered a depressed fracture of the skull . Another concern was Joe’s reflexes, barely there on his right side and non-existent on the left. But that saying that, his body was still in trauma and these things take their own good time. On the good side the boy was obviously previously a fit, healthy young man and his swallow reflex was strong…

“l hear what yer saying doc but when is…l mean what are…?”

“Hoss your brother’s condition isn’t any longer life threatening. Unless there is a dramatic down turn. But with the care he is receiving l have no reason to believe that that will be the case.” Leaving Hoss and Adam at the table, Dr Simms and Etta returned to the bedroom to set Joe’s arm and stitch the open wound in his scalp. Grim faced both brothers sat in silence mulling over the doctors words.

“I guess we gotta be thankful he aint gonna die. Aint that what the doc was saying?”

Hoss under deep furrowed brows of concern cast a look at his elder brother waiting for some reaction. A clue of some kind to his brothers thoughts. Adam gave nothing away other than a look of deep concentration. “Aint that what he said, shortshanks is gonna be OK?” Hoss prodded Adam for some response. The longer his brother remained silent the more feared the big man became. “Littie Joe’s gonna wake up…he’s gonna wake up aint he…dadburnit Adam caint yer say something…anything.”

Pressing his long fingers to either side of his forehead Adam stroked fiercely then massaged his temples working his fingers upwards into his hair line, then followed through with the palms of his hands. Up over his forehead and across and down to the nape of his neck. Once more massaging and pressing with his finger tips until, linking together his fingers he rested the palms of his hands against the back of his neck. He stared directly into Hoss’s panicked blue eyes.

“You heard what the doctor said?” he knew that the answer was not what his brother was expecting but he could offer no succour.

“I know l did,” Hoss agreed, “but what exactly did he say?” Hoss was desperate for guidance and assurance. Adam gave neither.

“It’s more what he didn’t say,” was all he could offer. Now it was Adam’s turn to wait for a response. The usual calm patience of the man was being sorely tested. His big brothers open
faced confusion pained him just as much as Thomas Simms words. Just as much as on ‘Concussion, Comatose and Other Serious Head Injuries’ a chapter from one of the Medical Journals that Adam had taken it upon himself to delve into. His brothers pain, both brothers pain, the physical and mental agony was shared by himself. Adam knew that he could do nothing other than tell it to Hoss straight out. The facts as they were written in black and white by qualified and experienced men.

“It’s not about Little Joe dying Hoss it’s about Little Joe living.”

“How’dya mean? Reckon as long as he’s gonna live it’s gotta be fer the best, aint it?”

Adam had now taken comfort in his well worn and used habit of pinching the bridge on his nose. Well known to everyone who knew anything about the man that this quirky habit was used for many reasons. The most common being to aid his concentration or to keep either his temper or patience at bay.

“Is it Hoss? Is it really. If Joe’s going going to be…if the kid doesn’t come out of it for days…for weeks…months, maybe years …maybe never. Is that going to be a life?”

If Adam had flat out punched his brother in the gut Hoss’s expression of shock would have been no less. His blue eyes saucered and his mouth set in a pouted defiance. Before he could open that pouted mouth Adam punched a second time. “Joe to be no more than a lifeless form. To be attended to night and day as if he were a newborn baby. Having to be fed, turned, washed and cleansed. A newborn that had no hope of seeing, talking, walking, not knowing if he could even think for himself. Is that a life for anyone let alone our little brother. Little Joe who couldn’t stay still unless he had a girl in his arms, and even then not for long. Little Joe who could only go from point A to point B in the fastest possible time whether on two legs or four. Is that a life for little brother? Do you call that a life Hoss? Do you?”

Disbelief, anger and determination battled to take centre hold of Hoss’s thought’s.

“Dadburn Adam l never thought l’d hear yer talk like that, yer already got shortshanks in a coffin…”

“NO Hoss, no that’s…”

“Now yer just listen up and let me have my say. Yer used one word and yer only used it one time…Hope brother, hope. Shortshanks could wake tomorrow or the next day, or the next day or the day after that. An iffun it takes me…me my whole life hoping, tending ter him everyday and every night then that’s what l’ll be doing. Everyday hoping and praying and l reckon Pa will be doing the same, hoping and praying alongsidesa me, an Hop Sing he’ll be there, praying to his God. While there is breath in Little Joe’s body there is life. While there is breath in my body there is hope. Yer may read, an l reckon that’s about what yer been doing reading about what other folks saying and about what other folks doing. But as l live and breath l will not give up on little brother. An why coz l know in my heart an soul he will be fighting with all his got. An iffun it were me or you laying in that bed he wouldn’t be giving up hope.”

All the while Hoss spoke Adam’s eyes were fixed on his big brother. Watching the man, his brother the boy he near reared. The boy he saw grow from a shy, stuttering youth into this man before him that any father or brother or any man would be proud to call friend. This tower of strength. Not just in body, his brothers words filled him with a deep rooted shame and humbleness. Adam gulped and swallowed hard trying to compose himself to stall the tears in his eyes.

“Big brother when did you get to be so wise. You could lead an army into battle with words like those.” Adams own words were choked with emotion.

“Iffun that’s what it takes elder brother. It aint no battle where lives are lost or taken. It’s a battle to keep a life. Brother I wouldn’t want anyone else at my side.”

The brothers rose from their chairs and clasped each other. Hoss drew Adam to him into his bear like, broad chested embrace. He felt his brother tremble in his arms and knew that Adam had lost control. Tears were shed by both men. Hoss kept a firm hold, not relaxing or easing his grip until the elder, wiser, more worldly man’s breathing had evened. Until the tight, tense muscles had relaxed and softened.

“I reckon elder brother we oughta see ter the dishes. Did yer know there weren’t a scrap a meat in that pie, nothing but vegetables and rice. I never woulda guess. I sear l aint tasted anything as good…iffun ole Hop Sing gets to hear l said that l’ll know it were you told him.”

Freeing himself, Adam pulled away from his brother. Looking into Hoss’s clear, blue, loving eyes Adam did something he hadn’t done since his big brother was a toddler. Taking two chubby, jowly cheeks between his fingers and thumbs he squeezed and shook the folds of flesh. In the past he would then place a sloppy kiss on his brothers forehead. But that was now an impossibility so Adam made do with Hoss’s chin. Which drew a loud chuckle from Hoss as he playfully pushed Adam away.

“I reckon elder brother you’re getting softer as yer getting older. By the time yer forty yer’ll be as gloopy as a ball of mud from the banks of the Truckee.”

“In that case big brother you had better do the washing an l’ll dry. Don’t want my hands to be getting gloopy before their time…by the way what is gloopy?”

“I aint rightly sure myself but l reckon yer know when yer get there”.

By the time Etta and the doctor had rejoined them the brothers had cleared the table and set the kitchen to right. A fresh pot of coffee was waiting on the stove.

The woman as like Hop Sing was not one for sharing her kitchen. Never-the-less Etta was so impressed with the Cartwright boys housework she gave voice to her admiration.

“Well now, when that young brother of yours is up and about l’ll be happy to send him home and keep you two around to look after me”.

Hoss beamed his thanks while Adam gave a half smile. Thinking he had never had a more tempting offer and regardless of Etta’s invitation for two. He would be happy to accept the offer providing he could send Hoss back to the Ponderosa with Joe.

Setting a plate of fresh baked apple and cinnamon cake on the table the four returned to the table for dessert and coffee.

“Ma’am iffun that’s the reward for doing the dishes, yer won’t be soiling them pretty handsa yers with dirty water while l’m living in Nevada.”

Dr Simms added his dimes worth, “And you my dear could very well do with some spoiling…now you know if l stay any longer my wife will definitely think that Etta, you and l have finally eloped,” the playful banter continued with Etta.

“Thomas Simms have l not had enough trouble to cope with without Harriet Simms and that lethal tongue of hers turning up on my doorstep.”

The doctor raised his arms in surrender and made for the door. Adam took it upon himself to walk the man to his buggy, which left Hoss and Etta alone at the table.

“Miss Etta ma’am, ahm sure sorry for landing you with a passel of our trouble l know Adam feels same as…” Etta didn’t allow Hoss to finish.

“No Hoss it is l who should apologise. l spoke in haste. l was not referring to you or your brothers. Apart from your brothers condition it is a welcome change for me to have company, also Hoss l do not expect you to be spending you days fixing holes in the barn and mending fences”.

“Aint nothing to me ma’am, iffun the work needs doing l’d rather do it than sit about, anyhows l’m used to ranch work, yer don’t want me going home all fat and sassy.”

“l am more than obliged to you. Now don’t tell me you haven’t room for another slice of this apple cake?” Etta was cutting a large slice as she spoke.

“Ma’am l oughta say no, but all l can say is cake as mighty fine as this jest deserves to be eaten. Iffun Hop Sing was ter hear me l’d be for it an that’s a fact”. Grinning with satisfaction Hoss happily bit off a chunk of the tasty dessert.

“Hop Sing?”

Forgetting his manners Hoss spluttered crumbs across the table as he tried to mumble his way
around a mouthful of apple, cinnamon and sponge. Speaking from the back of his hand he apologised and explained Hop Sings role in the Cartwright household.

“I tell yer Miss Etta l reckon as how the doctors wife and Hop Sing have a fine pair of tongues between them. Little Joe’s only one who understands Hop Sing seeing as how Hop Sing took him under his wing when mama Marie died so sudden like.”

Etta could see that the memory off the woman or his injured brother laying next door had stolen Hoss’s thoughts. To see the large man so sad pricked a nerve, she felt somehow responsible and needed to make amends, to try and bring the smile back to the man’s face.

“Mr Hoss, will you do one thing for me?”

Startled Hoss looked up from studying his hands. “Miss Etta ma’am yer only need to ask.”

“l won’t call you Mr Hoss if you don’t call me Miss Etta ma’am,” Etta’s request did the trick, Hoss’s smile returned.

“I reckon l can do that ma’am…l mean Etta,”

“As much Hoss as l’d like to sit here and chat with you, I have a dinner to prepare, but l do mean for you to tell me all about the Ponderosa”.

“l’d be more than pleased to ma…Etta. Reckon I’ll look in on Joe.”

“Yes, please do, the more fluid he takes the better.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

“Adam, l don’t know if you are aware of how lucky you boys have been,” Adam raised a quizzical eyebrow. Thomas Simms was settling various items onto the seat of his buggy, his bag. A dish of Etta’s apple cake which she had covered with a cloth. A reference book that he had begged to borrow, promising it’s return by his next visit. Etta had scoffed at his good manners saying the book was better use to him and he should keep it in his surgery. Adam leaned against the side of the buggy his arms crossed over his chest. The doctor continued. “You might not think of it in the same way. If the accident had occurred another ten or even five miles either way you would be standing over your brothers grave. I may have made light inside but without Etta the boy would not have made it. It may not seem it to you at this moment but there is every chance, with the care he is receiving that your brother will pull himself through. Hoss told me that the kid is as stubborn as a Missouri mule. Never lets up. Argues black is white if he has a mind to.”

“Hoss never got anything wrong there”. It was obvious to Adam that the doctor had overheard his conversation with his brother. The man had seated himself comfortably and wicked up the reins. “I know for a fact of a man who was comatose for almost six months and apart from suffering briefly from short term memory loss. Today he is living a full life.”

Adam took heart from the man’s word. Just as he snapped at the reins Adam halted him asking if he wouldn’t mind sending a wire. He had thought to leave contacting his father until the end of the week but how he had second thoughts. The doctor advised that as the lines were down the decision had been taken out of his hands. Knowing that it was Adam’s intention to go to Turner’s Cross on Friday he invited Adam to lunch. Hoping also that by then the means of communication would be back in service. Thanking the man for his invite Adam too hoped that on Friday he could find out some more about the intriguing Etta. Before he moved off Adam placed a hand on the elder man’s arm.

“Dr Simms may I ask you…?” The man patted Adam’s arm, the twinkling, tawny eyes held Adam in it’s sway.

“Yes Adam l am that man.” The doctor snapped the reins and without another word drove away.