Summary: After a serious head injury wipes out part of Pa’s memory, Doctor Martin is unsure if Ben will ever remember one of his sons.

Rating T  WC 24,300

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When You Remember Me

*** When you remember me, if you remember me, I hope you see it’s not the way I wanted to be.  Or I’d be with you now, but wherever you go, my love goes with you.  Keep on smiling, keep on shining, even though you know you want to cry.  I tried to love you, but looking in my eyes, you saw promises and lies too many times.  When you remember me, if you remember me, I hope you see it’s not the way I wanted to be.  Or I’d be with you now, but wherever you go, my love goes with you.***  (Song – “My Love Goes With You.” written by Chris Thompson ***)

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Joe Cartwright rolled onto his side and spit blood out of his mouth.  It was almost pitch black there in the alleyway where he had been roughed up and left for half-dead.  He attempted to pull himself to his knees, but collapsed smack down onto his face causing him to groan aloud.  He wasn’t sure how many men had been in on the free-for-all which had begun in the saloon and ended there where he now rested in the dirt. Joe was known for being an ornery cuss and, once angered, he would fight to the death, if need be, once he had been challenged.  Unfortunately he wasn’t known for choosing his fights wisely and should have hauled himself out of the bar long before the battle had begun.  Joe was three sheets to the wind long before the first fist had found its target and landed right underneath his left eye.  From that point onward Joe was sure that he was battling a whole battalion of drunks, all of them mad as hell.

Once again he pulled himself up, this time using his dominant left hand and both knees.  He was finally able to lean back onto his boot heels and sucked in a deep breath.  Joe rubbed at the back of his head and the motion made him want to puke again, as he had several times when he had first come to.  His mouth tasted like rot gut whiskey mixed with stale beer and it made him want to hurl for yet another time but, instead, he ended up with the dry heaves which lasted a good ten minutes.  He could feel every single boot which had kicked at him as he lay sprawled in the alleyway and could still hear the laughter which had erupted as he called out for the men to cease and desist.  It hadn’t worked.  It had all been the fault of some saloon girl who he wasn’t even all that interested in, though he hadn’t minded it much when she had settled down onto the arm of his chair.  He hadn’t even gotten her name or kissed her before the six foot six inch man had thrown open the swinging doors and headed his way.  If he hadn’t been in a drunken state, Joe knew that he would’ve beaten a very hasty exit but he never got that chance.  After the hulk of a man drew closer, it seemed like every single man in that saloon suddenly had it in for him and surrounded his table.  He remembered standing, for just a few moments, and then he had crawled across the floor trying his best to make his way outside.  It all had been in vain as the group of men, led by that burly giant, had been more than happy to follow him and enjoyed knocking the stuffing out of him.

Joe couldn’t remember when he had felt quite this awful, though he was sure that there was a litany of past beatings which had ensued due to his quick temper combined with his inability to hold his liquor; especially rot-gut whiskey.  All things being considered, living through the harsh pummeling hadn’t been that much of a blessing, or at least that was how he felt at that particular moment.  Joe groaned again when he became aware of the metallic taste of blood and the fingers of his left hand reached up and dabbed at his split lip.  He prayed that he wouldn’t begin the dry heaves again, as it had made his ribs hurt far worse, so he mentally willed the nausea away.

Joe tried to find his hat but it was either still in the saloon somewhere or perhaps it had fallen into the street.  It didn’t matter much anyway, as he felt so God-awful at the time that he wasn’t sure that he’d ever need a hat again, since they always buried a fellow without one.  Joe peered towards the street at the dimming light from a faraway lamppost.  He wondered how long he had been unconscious since he had fought and proved himself wanting.  *** Why couldn’t those damned goons have fought me one at a time?  Because if I could’ve faced each of them one by one I betcha that I could’ve won easily!  Yeah sure Joe! *** Joe thought and tried not to smile at the absurdity of his internal tirade.  He knew that he hadn’t stood a chance in hell at taking on even the smallest of the bunch, let alone Goliath.  Joe decided that he’d better check on the shape of his ribs to make sure that they were all still in the right places.  Not one bone was poking out of his shirt, which surprised him, and as he pulled the shirt-tails out of his pants he carefully prodded his ribcage.  The slight touch of his fingers over the area sent such excruciating pain that he stopped the examination.  ***Doc Martin would surely have done a better job – but then again I’m nowhere close to Virginia City – so I’ll have to tend myself this time!*** He finished with the partial inspection of his chest and gave up for the time being as it was only causing him to want to vomit again. *** I guess I’ll live to fight another day *** Joe mused and finally managed to pull himself to standing.  Just as quick as he stood erect his body fell backwards and hit the brick wall of the bank.  Joe cried out in pain and fell back down to the ground.  *** Smooth, Joe, very smooth move *** He thought and once again made the attempt to pull himself back to his knees and begin the whole procedure again.  Before he could lean back onto his heels he heard the click from the hammer of a gun.  Joe froze and wondered if the men who had beaten him up had decided on making a somewhat more permanent end to the argument which had arisen there in the saloon that evening.

From out of the shadows the glint from a Colt forty five revolver came into view along with the shine from a sheriff’s badge.  Joe sighed, very relieved that it wasn’t any of the men who had mopped the floor with him earlier.

“Get up!” The sheriff sounded loudly as he stared down at the young man on the ground.

“I’m trying to do just that,” Joe remarked sarcastically.

“No sudden moves, Sonny!” the sheriff warned.

Joe had to laugh at that statement.  “Mister, I couldn’t do anything sudden like right now.  I’m not resisting arrest by the way — I’m just trying to stand up.”

“I’ll take that six-gun before you get to your feet.”

Joe was surprised to find that his Colt was still there in his holster.  He wished he had used it on the men who had beaten him so badly.  “Here,” Joe replied and handed the gun butt-end first to the sheriff.  It was then that he managed to get to his knees and from there to standing.  Though he wobbled quite a bit, at least he hadn’t fallen back against the brick wall again.  Joe figured that if he had, the sheriff might have gotten a bit jittery and plugged him.

“Come on, I’m taking you to the jail,” The sheriff motioned with his gun out towards the street.

“What’s the charge, Sheriff?  Is getting beaten up by a gang of thugs against the law in this town?” Joe’s voice was filled with sarcasm, perhaps due to the whole thought of his predicament and how he was the injured party and now it appeared that he would be the one to take the fall for the whole brawl.  He shook his head and wondered internally.  ***If I go down for all of this I’m taking those men with me!  I hope I can get my gun back before I run into Goliath though – I hope he’s not still out here somewhere in the shadows.***

“Just move your butt down to my office, we’ll handle all of that in there,” The sheriff answered sternly.

As Joe made it out into the street he noticed his hat lying there just down from the walkway.  “Mind if I bend over and pick that up – it’s mine?”

“Go on do it fast.”

“I already told you – right now I can’t do nothing fast, Sheriff,” Joe announced as he bent to retrieve the tan colored hat.  He groaned from the movement and fought the nausea again as he tugged his hat down over his unruly hair.

The two block march down to the small jail was agonizing as Joe’s bruised and battered body felt buffeted with each step that he took.  The sheriff and his new prisoner were let inside by a deputy, who had spotted both men from the front steps.  He then was pushed by the sheriff into a small back room which held only one jail cell.

“You can cool your heels in there for a while, Boy,” The sheriff said and pointed for his new prisoner to make his way inside the cell.

“That’s fine, Sheriff,” Joe smiled, though the motion of doing so made his split lip bleed again.  “I needed a place to rest my head tonight anyhow and this looks better than most of the dumps I’ve stayed in lately.”

“We’ve got us a smart mouthed kid for the night, Jeremy,” the sheriff remarked as he turned the keys to lock the cell door.

“He looks like he fought with the devil and came in last!” The deputy laughed as he got a look at the battered young man who now sat on the cot.

“That’s exactly what happened,” Joe nodded.  “Well, it was the devil assisted by about a hundred other demons – they took their time with me – but I guess Hell didn’t want me yet.”

“Here,” The sheriff reached through the bars and handed Joe a small towel.  “That bucket on the floor has clean water in it – go wash yourself up.”

“Thanks for that,” Joe nodded gratefully as he soaked the towel and placed it first over his eye and then under his chin.

“I’m Sheriff John O’ Brien and this is my deputy Jeremy Briggs.  We’ll be putting the lights out soon so make use of that water while you can.”

“And what are the charges, Sheriff?” Joe decided he’d better find out before the lights went out again.

“Drunk and disorderly – that’s enough to hold you over night.  I’ll talk to you in the morning and we’ll decide just what to do with you, Boy.”

“Okay – I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping on the ground tonight — so thanks for the bed,” Joe replied, and eased back on the cot and closed his eyes.  He set the cool wet towel over his face and passed out hard.

 

It hadn’t been the best sleep in his life, however it was solid and Joe only awakened due to the sound of keys jingling there at the bars of his cell.  He suddenly felt every square inch of his body and each one sang out in pain.  Joe gingerly made it to a sitting position and looked over at the deputy who had a plate of food in his hand and a cup hanging from his index finger.

“I brung you some grub,” The deputy called as he made his way into the cell.  “Just stay there on that there cot – I can drop this plate and shoot you before you even make it halfway over to me.”

Joe shook his head unamused, having had enough threats in that town to last him for the rest of his natural life.  Just how in the hell the deputy could think he would be able to rush him when Joe could just barely manage to blink at the time without throwing up?  It was the first time in his life that he had discovered that even your eyelashes could hurt, even the ones that hadn’t been pounded by a fist the night before.

“Thank you just the same – and you don’t have to worry about me doing anything to you —right now shooting me would be an act of kindness,” Joe muttered.  “If I even look at that food I’m going to throw up on the floor — but I’ll take that cup if you’ve got some water that I can have?”

“Suit yourself, Boy, and just so you know – if you throw up in that cell it’s going to be you who cleans it up.” Jeremy warned and turned and set the plate out on a three legged stool just outside of the jail cell.  He handed Joe the cup and then reached for a smaller bucket which was stowed just to the side of the cell bars.  “The water in this bucket isn’t cold but it’s clean.  I’ll leave it in here with you.  The sheriff will be in to talk to you when he gets here.”

“When will that be?” Joe inquired, as he slowly sipped the water and hoped that it would stay down.  The last thing on earth that he wanted to do at that moment was to hurl again or possibly even worse, clean it up.

“An hour or so I guess – then he’ll tell you if you can go or not,” Jeremy said and locked the jail cell once more.  He paused and took a good look at the prisoner.  “Now I know where I’ve seen you before!  Last night you were such a mess I didn’t get a good look at your face.  But now – I recognize you.  My nephew worked at the Ponderosa a couple of years ago bringing in one of your herds.  I saw all of your family when I went to fetch him and bring him back home.  You’re Ben Cartwright’s third boy, aren’t you?”

Joe drew in a deep hurtful breath and then his face took on an angered appearance.  He didn’t reply, he didn’t see a need for it.”

“Well – you are aren’t you?” Jeremy persisted staring over at the young man.

“Ben Cartwright has two sons not three,” Joe finally answered since the other man wouldn’t ease up.

“No – now I know that’s not true – he’s got three of them.  You’re his youngest boy – the third son!”

“Thanks for the water,” Joe nodded to the deputy and then leaned back onto the cot.  He had nothing further to say to the man.  Ben Cartwright had two sons plain and simple, and that was the end of the discussion.

The sheriff had a leisurely breakfast and then went to talk to the owner of the saloon where the raucous fight had begun the prior night.  He had heard all of the facts and the names of most of the men who had participated in tearing up the bar before taking the melee outside.  Sheriff O’ Brien would be going after several of the men and making sure that they settled up on the damages before the end of the day.  And now he knew exactly who did what to whom and why his new prisoner looked so roughed up.  He tucked his notepad inside of his vest and headed down to the jail with all the information that he needed.

“Did you have any problems with our new guest?” The Sheriff asked as he sat down at his desk and faced the deputy.

“No – he wouldn’t eat his breakfast –but I think he’s still getting over how much he apparently drank last night so I don’t blame him for that.  Hey – you’ll never guess who that kid is!”

John O’ Brien looked up and asked, “I’ll bite – who is he?”

“He’s one of the Cartwrights from over by Virginia City.  You know they’ve got that big spread – the Ponderosa.”

“Well, then he ought to be able to pay for the damages that he helped cause.  I talked to Bob over at the Golden Lily and he’s got quite a clean-up going on over there.  Okay – let’s go and talk to our prisoner,” The sheriff stood and walked to the back cell.

Joe was spread out on the cot with his left arm bent and resting over his eyes trying to get more sleep.

“You had quite the time over in that saloon, Boy, and there are an awful lot of damages.  You’re going to have to pay your share of them.”

Joe slowly eased up on the cot keeping a hand to his stomach fighting back both the pain from the movement as well as the urge to let loose the little bit of water which he had drunk.  He stared over at the sheriff, surprised by what he had just said.  “I was one of like ten men who busted up that place.  And, besides – those other guys started it!” Joe insisted loudly as he tried to express his views on what had taken place the night before.

“Kid, you went up against Big Jim Brannigan and that was stupid on your part!  If you hadn’t been flirting with his gal you wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“She parked her bustle on the arm of my chair — the most I did was put my arm around her waist – I never even kissed her.  Besides – I never saw a ring on her finger and she is a saloon girl you know?” Joe returned, getting more angered over the whole situation.

“Well – Old Jim doesn’t like any man laying a hand on his girl – ring or no ring.  Being a saloon girl doesn’t have a thing to do with it either.  You sure don’t have much sense, Kid!” the sheriff responded.

“That’s beside the point.  Hey –what about his henchmen?  They busted up the place the most – far more than I did!  I was just trying to get out of there alive.  And they followed me outside and almost killed me in that alley.  Why aren’t you out arresting them?”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Boy,” John O’Brien insisted, getting perturbed.  “Everyone will pay their fair share.  As for that fight – it’s about ten witnesses I count against your one.  Now – I hear that you are a Cartwright – do you have the money on you to pay or do you want to wire your Pa?”

“My name isn’t Cartwright,” Joe fired back.  “My name is Joe Carson.  And I’ve got about twenty dollars to my name.”

The sheriff shook his head and replied, “That’s not going to do it – I’ve divided it up and you’re share is more like sixty dollars.  I guess you’ll have to stay behind these bars for a while.  I’ll find you some work to pay off your share of the damages but you are now my guest for a month.”

Joe painfully made it over to the cell bars and tried to make his plea.  “C’mon, Sheriff, give me a break will you?  I’ll give you the twenty — won’t that do?”

“Afraid not, Mister Carson – or whoever the heck you are.  I’ll be putting you to some work tomorrow.  You’re not much good to me right now by the looks of you.  Might just as well go back to that cot and make use of it,” The sheriff said and walked with the deputy to the door.  “You’re SURE you’re not a Cartwright?” The sheriff asked again, not quite sure the kid was telling the truth.

Joe frowned and shook his head.  “I’m sure,” He answered, with a tone of bitterness displayed in his voice.  Slowly he moved back over to the cot and eased himself down.  ***I sure know how to pick the worst places to visit and the worst times to be at a saloon!  Well – I haven’t got the money to get a hotel room anyhow – so guess this will do for a while. ***

“You have any more questions before I go about my duties?”

“Yeah, Sheriff,” Joe called across the room.  “What day is it?”

“It’s Friday,” O’Brien replied.

“Okay – what month is it?” Joe continued.

The sheriff frowned and turned back to look at his prisoner before responding.  “Are you being smart-mouthed again or are you still drunk?”

“Nope, I’m not being smart-mouthed –and by now everything that I had to drink has come out the same way that it went in.  I just want to know what danged month it is.”

“It’s July if you’re all that concerned about it — the fifteenth to be exact.  That means unless money falls down from that ceiling in there I’ve got the pleasure of your company until the fifteenth of August.  Now get your rest – I’ve got a lot to keep you occupied tomorrow.  Jeremy will bring you in some supper around eight tonight.  You get two meals a day around here and that’s it so you’d best make use of them.”

Joe groaned and shook his head.  Food was not something he wanted to look at possibly for another year, or so he figured by the way his stomach churned at the very mention of it.  “Thanks,” Joe muttered and then searched for the towel from the prior night in order to set it back into the water bucket and then place over his swollen face.  He heard the door to the room close and his thoughts went back again to how he had come to be so far away from home.  Joe didn’t want to think about the Ponderosa, and he didn’t want to remember anything that had happened at the beginning of spring.  He fought to purge the accident from his mind along with all of the ensuing events which had followed.  However for months now, almost every time that he closed his eyes, the memories returned and an intense sadness shook him right down to the marrow.   If only he could erase all of it from his thoughts, but everything fell right back upon him the minute that he put the towel over his eyes and eased back on the cot.  ***Why Pa? ***Joe was transported back to the first day of spring.

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Ben Cartwright stood in the living room of the Ponderosa ranch house and raised his voice and his arms trying to garner the attention of the seventeen year old standing there in front of him.

“Joseph Francis Cartwright,” Ben began his tirade by using his son’s full name to show how annoyed he was getting at the young man.

*** Oh no, he’s using my full christened name again – this isn’t going well *** Joe thought to himself and his face winced up.

“What time did I tell you to be home by last night?”  Pa continued, his expressive eyebrows were raised for effect.

“C’mon, Pa, you promised not to use my middle name anymore!” Joe reminded his father, trying to avoid answering the question which his father had posed.

“Be glad that’s all I chose to call you right now,” Ben countered angrily and got back to the inquisition.  “Now, Joseph – I realize that it was almost sixteen hours ago, but I’m sure if you think about it hard enough you’ll remember.  Now what time did I tell you to get home?”

“I think you said by midnight?” Joe offered, though he knew it was an awful lie, having fully understood what had been expected of him the previous night.

“No, I said no later than TEN o’clock!  Do I need to take you to see Doctor Martin and have your hearing checked?” Pa’s sarcasm poured out as he folded his arms across his chest.

Joe grinned sheepishly in spite of the ensuing full blown lecture he’d now get.  “No, Sir – my hearing is fine.  I guess that I just misunderstood what you said yesterday.”

“I rather doubt that you simply misunderstood me, Joseph.  And you got in AFTER midnight by the way – so even your carefully crafted tale doesn’t hold water.   And on top of all of that, the way I heard it, from some sources that I happen to have, you were into your cups too!”

“Your sources wouldn’t happen to live here and go by the names of Adam and Hoss would they?” Joe ventured a guess which he presumed was highly likely to be correct.

“Never mind who my sources are.  Now you are late to help your brothers because you chose to stay out way too late, drink way too much and sleep in way too long!”

“I’m going to be even later to join up with them if this lecture goes on much longer, Pa,” Joe complained.

Ben stared hard at his son and he showed his displeasure in the expression that he wore along with the pointer finger of his right hand which was aimed in Joe’s direction.

“Joseph – at seventeen years old you shouldn’t be out till all hours of the night and you surely don’t need to be getting drunk!  I’ve warned you about all of these very things before, Young Man.” Pa admonished his son.

Joe now raised his own arms in gesture, “Pa – your sources exaggerated!   I only had two watered down beers.  I was no where’s near being drunk! Yeah – I smelled of whiskey because some drunk – not me – dumped almost a half of a bottle of rot gut on my jacket.  I’m sorry that I was late – and I promise to do better.  Now can I go catch up with your sources so I can help them with the branding?”

“Just two watered down beers –is that what you said?” Ben questioned, his eyebrows raised again.  He doubted that what he was hearing was the complete truth of the matter, as was usually the case when it came to his youngest if he was put on the spot.

“Nears as I can remember,” Joe lied, though he hadn’t been drunk, he had however had a bit of the man’s rot-gut after he had accidentally dumped a glass on his jacket.  The man had given him a shot of the whiskey to apologize and the boy hadn’t turned the gesture down.   Joe figured it wouldn’t hurt to leave that part of the story out.

“Joseph, have you listened to ANYTHING that I’ve said?” Ben groaned, growing exasperated with his son.

“Yes, Sir – Pa I always listen to what you say,” Joe nodded obediently, hoping that the lecture would soon be finished.  He wasn’t all that sure that Pa had bought the story that he had just told him and Joe needed to make a hasty exit before the whole truth was gleaned during further interrogation.  As he was mulling the situation over Joe, without thinking about it, sat down and stretched his legs out in front of him placing his boots on the coffee table.

Ben shook his head highly irritated as he wondered just how his youngest could make the statement that he had.  Pa stared down at his son’s dirty boots now resting where he had told Joe not to put them more times than he could count.  “Your feet go on the floor, Joseph!” Ben exclaimed, as he shot his index finger towards the boy’s boots.

Joe’s face flushed with embarrassment.  He realized that he wasn’t earning any points with Pa that morning.  “Sorry,” He apologized and planted his boots back on the floor.

“You were just saying that you always listen to me, however, it’s very evident to me that’s not the truth of the matter.  It’s either that or if you are listening to me,then you are purposely disobeying me by not doing as you’ve been told.”

“C’mon, Pa, I wouldn’t ever purposely disobey you.  I might be a little forgetful at times – but I don’t try to go against what you tell me to do.  And, like I said – I promise you that I’ll do better.  Is it okay to leave now?” Joe tried to show sincerity in all that he had offered to his Pa.

Ben sighed and shook his head in frustration.  It was so hard to stay angry with his youngest boy, no matter how hard he tried.  Joseph, Ben had always surmised, could talk the devil himself out of a glass of ice water.

“Okay — okay – but I’m holding you to that promise about you doing better at listening to what I tell you, Joseph.  The next time this happens you’re not going to get off with just a mere lecture.  Now have I made myself clear enough that you fully understand what I’ve just said?” Ben warned, trying his best to look severely at the boy.

“Crystal clear,” Joe nodded and frowned over the not so subtle threat that his father had just made.  He could tell by the inflection in Pa’s words that he meant business this time, he didn’t have to spell it out to him.  Joe’s ire was raised over the fact that his brothers hadn’t told the true facts about all they had witnessed the previous night concerning his actions.

Ben could hear the wheels turning in his son’s mind and knew the look that he was wearing on his face now.  He could tell that Joe wanted to seek revenge on both Hoss and Adam.  “Now go catch up with your brothers — who I NEVER said were my sources, Joseph!”

Joe grinned knowingly over the fact that Pa would never implicate his brothers.   As he stood he reached over and patted his father’s arm.  “Sure, Pa,” Joe winked.  He knew better, there was no doubt in his mind about the identities of Pa’s sources.  Joe was well aware that Adam and Hoss had definitely given their father a play by play of all of his activities from the previous night.  Though they had both stretched the truth about all that he had done, he also had to admit that he hadn’t been completely honest with Pa either.  Joe knew that he had just basically lied right to his father’s face, so he’d let his brothers off the hook this time.  He hurried to the credenza and quickly buckled his holster and then donned his jacket and hat.  “I WILL be home on time!” he announced as he pulled open the front door.

“You’d better be!”  Pa called over sternly as he watched his youngest making a quick getaway.  It was only then that he smiled, not wanting Joe to know that all was now forgiven.  *** That boy!  I tell you Ben Cartwright – it would appear that you are going soft the older that you get!  It’s either that or Joseph is becoming proficient at wearing you down. *** Pa thought to himself as he moved over to the study to start on his daily tasks.

***********************************

Adam mopped his brow as he set the branding iron down onto the calf.  It had been a humid day and working over hot coals didn’t help.  He wasn’t happy that his youngest brother had yet to show up to do his share of the work.

“You got him, Hoss?” He called as he readied for the next heifer.

Hoss flipped the calf down onto its side and looked up at his brother.  “I got him, go ahead!”

Adam placed the branding iron onto the hip of the calf and then he heard the whistle.

Joe sat there on top of his pinto and smiled over at his brothers.  He had whistled to get their attention.  “You boys should have most of these calves done by now.  What’s the hold up?” Joe laughed and then dismounted.

“Put the branding iron on that kid, Adam!” Hoss sang out and pointed over to Little Joe.

Grinning, Adam stood back up and winked over at Hoss.  “Well he’s able to sit a saddle so I guess Pa went easy on the kid, Hoss.”

“Very funny,” Joe frowned as he dismounted and moved closer to his brothers.  “You both are lucky because if I had gotten a tanning due to you exaggerating about what I did last night to Pa I’d grab that branding iron and turn it loose on both of you!”

Hoss walked to the gate post and drew down his canteen and took a couple of good swallows and passed it over to Adam.  “Now just what in the world gave you the idea that we said anything to Pa?” Hoss asked, feigning innocence.

“He’s not a very trusting soul is he, Hoss?” Adam played along.

“You’re right – I’m not – especially when it comes to my two busy-body brothers!” Joe answered and took the branding iron from Adam.  “Okay, let’s get this danged chore out of the way.”

“No, it’s your turn to flip these calves, Little Brother!  I’ll handle that iron.” Hoss insisted.

“Nope,” Joe smiled.  “I’m too darned hung over to do something as dangerous as that.”

“You aren’t hung over!” Adam complained.

Joe turned and shot a vindicated smile over at his brothers and stated, “Then maybe you two shouldn’t have told Pa I was drunk last night when you went to him and spread those rumors about me.  Now go flip one of those calves, Hoss, it’s too hot to stand around and jaw.”

“Kid’s on to us, Older Brother,” Hoss grinned and pulled a calf over so Joe could set the brand onto it.

The three brothers worked for hours branding the considerable amount of new calves.  By the time they were done they were all hot and tired and ready to head for the ranch house.  As each Cartwright readied to mount their horses they saw a dust cloud heading their way and saw a rider approaching rapidly.

“Looks like Fletcher – and he’s sure in a hurry,” Joe called over to his brothers as he squinted off into the distance.

“I didn’t know he could ride that fast,” Adam nodded over to Joe.

The three men waited to see what the hired hand was doing racing his horse so fast and heading straight for the branding corral.  It didn’t take long before he reined his mount hard and called out.

“Boys — better get to the house.  Your Pa had an accident and the Doc’s there already!” Fletcher announced breathing hard.

The brothers all exchanged worried glances, mounted their horses and headed toward the ranch house.  The three of them rode away even faster than Fletcher had come in with his news.

************************************

Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe stood in the living room of the Ponderosa ranch house pacing there in front of the fireplace.  Doc Martin had told them to stay down there out of his way while he tended their father and assessed the damage to his head which had been caused by a fall from his horse.

“If he hit his head as hard as Doc said I guess he’s been out cold for a while,” Adam announced and shot a glance at each of his brothers.

“Pa’s got a hard head — he’ll be alright,” Hoss tried his best to sound hopeful.

Joe didn’t speak.  His thoughts went back to his last conversation with Pa and his stomach churned.  He felt awful that he hadn’t been entirely truthful that morning, and now, if something should go wrong and Pa didn’t pull through, his final words would haunt him.

Adam looked over at his youngest brother, who now sat on the settee with his head in his hands.  He could see that the kid was fighting to control his emotions.  That was Joe.  He could be the orneriest person on the earth and sometimes seem so self-centered that it was hard to believe that he had been sired by Ben Cartwright.  But, other times, the kid could seem so tenderhearted and spilling a few tears came natural to Joe.  Though he fought not to release any in front of his brothers, Adam was well aware that Joe let down his guard around their father.  But, then again, that was his nature, and though it was a polar opposite to his oldest brother, Joe’s sensitivity could sometimes shock those around him.

“Listen, Kid, Pa will be okay,” Adam tried to assure the boy.

“I – I never should have made Pa angry today.  I didn’t listen to him – and now what if those are the last words that I ever get to say to him?” Joe confessed and drew in a deep breath to ward off the glistening of tears in his eyes.

Doctor Martin appeared at the top of the staircase and the three brothers hurriedly made their way over to meet him.

“Is Pa going to be okay?” Adam was the first to ask, his voice betraying his fear for his father’s condition.

Doc walked down the stairs slowly and made it into the living room and sank down onto the red leather chair in front of the fireplace.

“Come over here, Boys, and I’ll explain my concerns,” Doc called out wearily.

The Cartwright brothers anxiously gathered around the doctor and waited to hear his prognosis.

“When your father fell he hit the side of his head and there’s a good deal of swelling.  I don’t need to get into a lot of medical jargon – though I expect that you, Adam, will no doubt look up this information.”

“How bad off is he?” Hoss continued the questioning.

“I’m concerned due to the swelling.  If we can get that under control then I believe your Pa will pull through.  I am also concerned with the part of his head which took the brunt of the fall.  He hit an area of the brain which contains something called the hippocampus.”

“What’s that?” Joe finally spoke up from his seat on the coffee table directly in front of Doctor Martin.

“Well that part of the brain has been studied pretty well over the past few years and it’s suspected that it has to do with where some of your memories are stored, Joe.”

“What can you do?  What can we do?” Adam responded urgently as he made a mental note to look up the term which Paul had just mentioned.

“Adam, Hop Sing is up there and he’s keeping ice packs on the area.  I’m hoping that the swelling will abate and then once he’s awake we’ll know if he’s been affected.”

“Can we see Pa?” Joe questioned as he stood up with worry framing his face.

Doc looked sympathetically at all three of Ben’s sons.  “Your father needs quiet right now.  But, if you each want to go and see him one at a time – well I don’t see a problem with that.  But, keep your visits short right now.  No more than five minutes each, okay?”

The brothers exchanged glances, each of them wanting to rush up to be with their Pa.

“I’ll go first,” Adam nodded towards Doc, not bothering to ask if it was alright with either of his brothers.  He was the eldest son and he felt that title came with pecking rights.

“Go on – but keep your voice low,” Paul insisted.

“I’m next,” Hoss claimed his turn following Adam.

Adam climbed the stairs and headed into his father’s bedroom hoping to have a few minutes alone with him.  He, unlike Joe, and sometimes Hoss as well, held his emotions close to the vest.  Maybe it was due to all that he had witnessed over the years, having survived the deaths of his mother and then both Hoss and Joe’s mothers.  He had learned to be strong even in the face of tragedy.  Pa would expect it of him.

“Let me get you some coffee,” Little Joe offered to Doc and headed into the kitchen without waiting for a reply.

“I know the three of you are all worried, Hoss.  But, I’m a bit surprised that Little Joe didn’t argue about Adam and you going to talk to your Pa first.”

Hoss frowned and shrugged his shoulders.  “Joe’s feeling bad that he and Pa kind of got into it a little this morning.  He’s scared that it might be the last time he ever talks to Pa and he’s got a guilty conscience for lying to him.”

Doc gave a tired smile and sighed.  “I’ll have a talk with the boy after you have your turn to see your Pa, Hoss.  I don’t think we’re going to lose your father, but we won’t know the effect of that fall for a while,” Paul explained, and he hoped that he could ease all of the Cartwright brother’s minds, especially the guilt-ridden Little Joe.

**********************************

Joe was so deep in his reflections that he was startled when a hand fell down onto his shoulder.  He looked up to see Doctor Paul Martin.  The man smiled at Joe and then reached across the bed and changed out the ice pack for a fresh one and placed it on the right side of Ben’s head.  He checked his patient’s pulse and then pulled the comforter up a bit.

“How is he, Doc?” Joe asked somberly as he took a position standing right next to him.

“No real change – but I didn’t expect one just yet, Joe.”

Joe frowned and moved over closer to his Pa.  “He’s just got to be okay, Doc – he’s just got to,” Joe’s voice was quiet but still held panic in it.

Doc turned and cast a sympathetic look over at the boy and then pointed for him to sit in the chair.  Paul pulled up the other side chair and sat down and faced Ben’s youngest.

“No need getting yourself sick over this, Joe.  You’ve got a very strong father – he’s also got a very hard head,” Doc paused and tried to ease the boy’s mind some.    “We’ll just keep up with the ice packs in order to help with the swelling and wait for Ben to wake up.”

Joe dropped his gaze down to the floor and once again fought back his tears.  “I wish I had known this was going to happen —I keep thinking –,” Joe trailed off.

Paul reached over and gently touched the boy’s shoulder.  “Hoss told me that you and your Pa kind of got into it this morning.  Is that what’s bothering you, Joe?”

Joe nodded and answered, “Yeah — I wasn’t exactly truthful with him – and I just keep thinking about it.”

“Well it’s my experience that a whole lot of boys your age stretch the truth at times.  Was it a little white lie that you told your pa?”

Joe shook his head adamantly and replied, “No –it was either a gray one or a black one, Doc, and it wasn’t all that little either.   I should have fessed up that I knew all along exactly what time that Pa had told me to come home –instead of pretending that I didn’t hear him right.  I lied right to his face – and I shouldn’t have.  I also lied to him about how much I had to drink.   I keep thinking that —well what if that’s the last time I ever get to talk to Pa?  If my last words to him were nothing but – never mind –,” Joe paused and dropped his head down to his chest.  He was barely able to keep from tearing up again but was making a valiant effort to hold it all in.

“I think your Pa will be okay.  Now, I don’t know if that fall from his horse has caused any damage — but I do think he will pull through.  I also know that your Pa wouldn’t want you to make yourself sick over all of this – and getting upset about your last talk either.  You’ve been up here saying some prayers haven’t you?”

Joe nodded earnestly, “Yeah, Doc, I’ve said a lot of them all night long.”

Paul patted Joe’s arm and replied, “Well then you’ve done your job now let me get to mine.  I want you to go eat your dinner and let your Pa get some rest.  I told your brothers that I’ll stay the night.  I also told them that each of you can come back up later.  But, right now, Young Man, you need to go eat.”

Joe pulled himself up from his chair and moved to stand next to the bed one more time.  He placed the palm of his right hand against his father’s left cheek.  Joe slowly stroked Pa’s face and whispered, “Pa – you get well.  I love you.  Come back to us – all of your sons need you.”

“Go on now, Little Joe,” Doc urged the boy, motioning him out the door with his hand.

Joe nodded solemnly and replied, “Take care of him, Doc.  Let me know when I can come back okay?”

Paul smiled and watched as the disheartened young man walked slowly towards the door.  “I will,” He called over to Joe.  Doc turned his attention back to Ben and whispered, “You need to come back around, Ben your boys are all worried – and well – so am I.”

*********************************

Dinner was uncharacteristically quiet with few words being spoken by the three Cartwright sons.  Hop Sing had done his best to encourage them all to eat to keep their strength up and that Ben would be okay.  Still, the brothers were barely eating after the man had padded back into the kitchen to retrieve more ice to take up to Doctor Martin.

Joe pushed his food around on his plate and muttered, “I’m a rotten son.”

“Come on, Little Joe, that ain’t true!” Hoss called across the table.

“I out and out lied right to Pa’s face,” Joe continued to berate himself.

“You told Pa that you didn’t know you were supposed to be home by ten, is that it?” Adam asked as he dropped down his fork alongside his plate.

“Yeah,” Joe nodded, still not looking at either brother.

“Shucks, Joe – that ain’t nothing compared to the whoppers that you’ve told Pa in the past!” Hoss teased his little brother, attempting to make him smile.

“I also lied about how much I had to drink, Hoss.   I should’ve told him the truth –Pa deserves better.  You and Adam are the good sons – I’m just the one who causes problems for Pa – why he hasn’t flat out disowned me by now I haven’t got a clue!”

Adam exchanged a glance with Hoss and tried to figure out something to say in response to help ease Joe’s guilt.  “Joe — do you think that Pa couldn’t tell that you were lying to him?  You know he’s been through all of these things with both Hoss and me – we told our share of fibs when we were younger.”

“But neither of you ever got into all of the messes that I have, Adam.  I’ve put Pa through so much – why he even puts up with it all is beyond me,” Joe countered.

“Maybe because he loves you – and you know it, Kid,” Adam nodded over to his brother.

“That’s right, Little Joe.  You might be a trouble maker – but our Pa loves you.  You sure do keep him on his toes!  He loves all three of us – but –well sometimes we both think you’re the favorite.”

“Yeah – sure,” Joe frowned and dropped his napkin down onto the table.  “He’d be better off without me.”

“Joe, now come on – I know you’re upset with yourself for lying – and you’re worried just the same as we are about Pa and it’s just getting to you right now.  You’re the one Pa dotes on.  He wouldn’t know what to do without you,” Adam cajoled his brother.

The three brothers turned in unison when Paul called across the room.

“Your Pa is awake, Boys.  You can all come up but you need to take this slow he’s got one heck of a headache,” Doc warned and watched as the three of them hurried to the stairs.

***********************************

Hoss and Adam stood on opposite sides of the bed whereas Joe stayed down at the footboard.  All three brothers waited anxiously to hear their father’s voice.

“Ben – your sons are here – open those eyes,” Paul called softly.

Slowly Pa’s eyelids fluttered and he drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out.  There was pain very evident on Ben’s face and he flinched as he tried to focus in on the faces of his boys.

“Adam,” Ben whispered as he caught the sight of his eldest standing just to the right of him.

“We’ve been so worried about you, Pa,” Adam responded to his father and took the man’s hand into his own.  “Take it easy, you’ve had a bad fall.”

“Hoss – come here a bit closer boy,” Pa asked weakly and witnessed his massive son coming better into view.

Hoss gently took his father’s left hand into his own and said, “Pa – it sure is good to see you awake.”

Doc noticed Joe staring at his father expectantly waiting for him to call out his name.  After several awkward minutes passed and Ben didn’t say anything to his youngest, Paul waved Joe to move closer to his Pa so he could see him better.

“I’m so glad you’re awake – I’ve been so worried,” Joe whispered as he moved past Adam and stood at the head of the bed staring down at Pa.

Ben’s face was the picture of confusion as he looked up at the young man who was standing off to his right and quietly speaking to him.  There was absolutely no recognition in his brown eyes as Joe came clearly into view.

“I’m sorry – I might be a bit hazy right now,” Ben began, and apologized in advance.  “I didn’t catch your name.”

Joe shot an urgent look over at Doc and then back to his father.  He thought for a minute that Pa was teasing him but then he had noticed the total absence of emotion on his face.  “Pa – Pa it’s me —it’s Joe,” He whispered.

“I don’t understand – who are you?” Ben asked puzzled over what the boy had just said.

Joe felt as though he had been hit right between the eyes over what Pa had just said to him.   He shot a fearful glance over to the doctor.

“Your father needs his rest, Boys.  You all can come back up in a bit.  Hop Sing is making him some beef broth and then you can come and visit once he’s had something to eat,” Paul instructed, trying his best to avoid there being a big scene there in the bedroom.  He could read the panic in Little Joe’s eyes and Doc knew that his patient didn’t need any additional stress at the moment.

“I’ll be right back, Ben.  Adam you stay in here and the three of us will see about that broth,” Paul instructed and then he had to usher both Joe and Hoss quickly out of the bedroom.

By the time the three of them had made it into the hallway Joe put his hand on Paul’s right arm and forced his gaze.

“Doc — he knew you – he knew Adam and Hoss – but he didn’t have any idea who I was!  Doc –what’s going on?” Joe pleaded for an answer and this time he couldn’t hold back the appearance of tears in his eyes.

Paul settled his hand down onto Joe’s shoulder and responded as gently as he could, “I’m just not sure, Joe.  He still has a lot of swelling on the side of his head — maybe once that goes down he will know you?  The main thing right now is that your father is finally conscious, which is a very good sign, but he’s not out of the woods so we can’t cause him any stress right now.  Joe – it’s probably nothing permanent –we won’t know for a while. Try not to fret about it right now — let’s be glad that he’s awake and if that swelling continues to go down then he’ll be out of danger.”

“But – he doesn’t know me,” Joe continued, not understanding how Pa couldn’t recognize him.  It was very evident that his father had noticed right away who both Adam and Hoss were.   But in Pa’s eyes Joe could tell that he was looking at him like he had no clue as to his identity.  If he was permanently erased from his father’s memory Joe was afraid that all he would be to the man now was just some unknown stranger.  He had told his brothers at the dinner table that Pa would be better off without him and now Joe wondered if that would turn out to be a prophetic statement.  Joe knew in his heart that there was no way that he could live a life as being a mere stranger to Pa.  He needed his father, the most important person in his life.   And, furthermore, he needed Pa to acknowledge that he had three sons, and that Joseph Francis Cartwright was the youngest of them.

“Come on downstairs, Little Joe – we’ll talk more — I just don’t want to risk your father hearing any of this,” Paul insisted and put his hand on Joe’s arm and tugged him along with him over to the staircase followed by Hoss.

**********************************

“This is your last chance to eat today,” The deputy called in to the young man stretched out on the cot inside the jail cell.

Joe blinked his eyes a few times and turned to his side, casting a look out through the cell bars.  “What is it?”

“It’s your supper that’s what it is.”

Carefully pulling himself into a seated position, though still aching with even the least bit of movement, Joe nodded his head.  “I guess I could try to eat a little bit.”

Jeremy unlocked the cell and moved closer to the bunk and set the tray down onto the stool sitting just off to the right of his prisoner.  “It’s just stew but it’s not too bad – I had some.”

“Thanks – I haven’t had much in me for a while now.  I guess I should be able to handle it okay.”

“I just don’t get it – I know you are that Cartwright kid who I saw a few years back.  So why are you running around pretending to be someone else?”

Joe picked up the spoon and pulled up some stew and blew on it to cool it down some.  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” He insisted and began to eat his supper.

“How old are you, Boy?” Jeremy continued, his skepticism showing in the way he raised his eyebrows.

“I’m seventeen – why?” Joe answered as he slowly continued to swallow the first food he’d tried to get down in more than a day.

“Yep – the kid I saw back then was fourteen, and it was three years ago.  Isn’t that odd?” The deputy smiled knowingly.

“Well – I’ve heard tell that there’s someone who looks exactly like you somewhere in the world.  So, I guess that Cartwright fellow must be the one who looks like me.”

Jeremy shook his head getting quite annoyed by his prisoner’s little ruse.  “If you had some kind of a falling out with your Pa, well then if I were you I’d just wire him and apologize and have him get you out of here.  You know Sheriff O’Brien ain’t going to take it easy on you.  You’ll be putting in some very hard days starting tomorrow,” He warned.

Joe set his spoon down on the plate and handed it back to the deputy and said, “Thanks for the grub, I think I’ve had all I can stomach right now.”  Joe took another drink from the cup of water and set it onto the floor.  He then spread himself back down onto the cot.  “I’m use to hard work – it makes the time go by faster anyhow.”

“Okay – Joe Cartwright – or Joe Carson – whoever you think that you are, good night,” Jeremy sighed and retrieved the plate and spoon.  “I’m blowing the light out now.  O’Brien will be getting you up just as soon as he falls in here in the morning.”

“Goodnight,” Joe called and then rolled onto his side facing away from the other man.  He didn’t need anyone to remind him who he was supposed to be.  He hadn’t forgotten his birth name.  Joe closed his eyes and fought not to go back into the all too realistic dream that he’d just come out of earlier.  It was always in the forefront of his mind, the memory of what had happened once his father had begun to recover from his injury.

************************************

During the first three days, after Ben had fallen off of his horse and sustained the head injury, his sons spent time up in the bedroom watching over him.  Doctor Martin had warned all three of them not to tire the man or try to force him to recall anything about the past.  They had done exactly as Paul had told them to do and tried to keep Pa quiet.  Sitting in chairs gathered around the bed, each of Ben’s sons made small talk; that is each of them except for Joe.  The youngest was dying on the inside every time he noticed his Pa just staring over at him blankly.  Joe just wanted to blurt out the fact that he was the injured man’s son and ask him why in the heck he couldn’t remember him.  Every time either Adam or Hoss witnessed their brother getting ready to express his feelings over what was happening, they would make some excuse and drag Joe out of Pa’s room.

By the fourth day, Doctor Martin felt that the swelling had gone down enough that Ben was no longer in danger.  It was then that he had ushered the man’s three sons out of the bedroom and attempted to assess his patient’s condition.

“Okay, Paul, I can see it on your face – what do you want to ask me?” Ben cast a knowing smile as he pulled himself up against the headboard.

“Are you sure that you’re up to this, Ben?  It can wait for another day or so – now that you’re not in any danger.  I’ve been very concerned about that head wound, but it looks as though the swelling is just about all gone.

“My head feels better at least,” Ben remarked.  “I’ve had one heck of a headache for days –but it’s eased considerably now.”

Paul leaned forward in his chair and smiled at his old friend.  “How about we take this slowly – and I just ask you a few basic questions?”

“Fine,” Ben nodded and focused his attention on the doctor.

“Do you remember your fall?”

“No – can’t say that I do,” Ben answered.

“Well, you fell from your horse – something had to spook old Buck pretty bad to knock you off like that.  One of the hired hands was there to witness you falling and luckily got you inside.  I got here pretty quickly as I was over at your neighbors the Johnson’s.  Do you remember them?”

Ben shook his head and sent a questioning look towards Paul, “I’ve never heard of them.”

Doc smiled, “I just lied to test you, Ben.  I was at the Miller’s house.  Now do you remember them?”

“Yes, of course I do – Carl and Ann and they’ve got three children.  I helped them build their place.”

Paul smiled, “Good, now – how about your date of birth?”

“February the twelfth –and you know that you and I are the same age so you know the year yourself,” Ben grinned.

“How about your boys – you remember their birth dates?”

“I better had – or they’d be on me about it when it came to buying them gifts!  Adam is May eighteenth and Hoss is December tenth,” Ben replied.

“How many sons do you have, Ben?” Paul asked looking down, hoping somehow the question would jar something loose and his friend might remember the youngest.

“What kind of a question is that?” Ben asked, staring at the doctor like he was insane.  “I ought to know I have two sons!”

“Do you remember the kid who’s been in and out of here the last couple of days?”

“You mean the quiet one?  Yes – he said that his name is Joe.  Should I know him?”

Doc drew in a deep breath and sighed.  He knew that he had to tell his friend that he had three sons, though he had hoped that it wouldn’t have been necessary.   “Ben – that boy is your son – your son Joe.  He’s your third son – you have three children.”

Drawing a hand up to the right side of his head, Ben touched at his bandages.  “Paul, I don’t understand — I don’t remember that boy at all.”

Paul pulled over the picture of Marie from the night stand and handed it to his friend.  “You do remember your third wife, don’t you, Ben?”

Ben held the picture and a sorrowful ache hit at his heart.  “Yes – my Marie,” He nodded and touched the woman’s face.

“Well, that boy downstairs is yours and Marie’s only child.  He’s seventeen.”

Ben sighed and handed the frame back to Paul and replied, “I remember that I lost her, Paul – but I don’t remember us having a child.  We had talked about it – planned for it – but I thought that she died before we had one?”

“Take it easy, Ben,” Paul insisted and forced his patient to ease back against the pillows.  “Head injuries are sometimes unpredictable.  You are also still healing – so I don’t want you to worry about anything right now.  All of your sons are just so glad that they didn’t lose you –as are your friends!  No-one wants you to get worried or try to push yourself.  We’ve got plenty of time to go over everything and try and figure out what you do or don’t remember.  I want you to take this medicine and get some rest,” Paul opened a small brown bottle and poured the medication onto a tablespoon and then handed it to his patient.

Ben drank the thick brown liquid off of the spoon and handed it back to Paul.  “I just can’t understand how I can have a son who I don’t remember –,”

Doc cut Ben short, worried that the man was getting far too upset at the time.  “There’s a good chance that whatever memories have been affected will come back in time.”

“Are you saying I have some sort of amnesia?”

Paul shook his head and answered, “No, Ben, you have a brain injury.  But, you’re still young enough that your body can fight to heal the damage.  Now that medicine is going to help you sleep awhile and it will also ease that headache.  I’ll be back tomorrow and just maybe I’ll let you get out of this bed a while.”

Ben eased back down in the bed, already beginning to feel the effects of what Paul had given him.  “Alright – hopefully getting up a bit will help jog some memories.  Thanks, Paul.”

The doctor stayed in the chair next to Ben’s bed until he saw that he was sleeping soundly and then walked out of the room.  He had no earthly idea what he would tell Joe.  Doc knew that the boy had been praying that any minute his father would suddenly call for him, and that wasn’t going to happen any time soon; if ever.

**********************************

And so began the first grueling and emotional days that followed.  Ben eventually was able to get out of bed, though he had been warned by Doctor Martin he couldn’t stay downstairs too long each day.  Ben’s sons gathered around him and made sure that he stayed seated in his red leather chair by the fireplace.  They kept the conversations lighthearted and didn’t press him on what he remembered.  All the while Joe remained standoffish, always in the background.  He would excuse himself to do various chores, all ones that could keep.  He just couldn’t bear not to see any form of recognition in his Pa’s eyes.

When all four Cartwrights finally were able to sit down at their first family dinner, Pa was assisted to the head of the table.  Joe took his normal seat just to the right of his Pa, with Hoss to his own right and Adam seated across the table.

“For what we are about to receive, dear Lord, let us be grateful,” Pa said the blessing and then began to hand the side dishes around to his sons.  He cast a glance at the boy to his right who seemed very uneasy sitting there.  Pa watched as Joe carved his roast with his left hand and decided he’d attempt to break the ice with him.

“I see that you’re a southpaw.  You know my grandfather and my great uncle Joshua were both left handed.”

*** You remember your grandfather and your great uncle but don’t know who the hell I am! *** Joe thought to himself, trying not to frown over the sad irony of the whole situation.

Both of his brothers could read Joe’s thoughts and felt badly for the kid.  Adam jumped in in an attempt to ease the tenseness hanging in the air.

“You know, Pa, Hoss always sits to Joe’s right so he doesn’t get bumped by that fast left hand of his!”

“Joe doesn’t mind too much – because he always likes sitting closer to you, Pa,” Hoss continued where Adam had left off.

“Excuse me – I’m not real hungry.  I’m going to go check on my horse – I think she’s got a stone bruise,” Joe stood from the table, setting his napkin down and making a fast exit to the barn.

“Did I say something wrong?” Ben asked his two sons after witnessing Joe’s very hasty departure.

Adam shared a glance with Hoss and then replied, “No, Pa – Joe’s just worried about that horse of his.  You’d think it was almost human the way it responds to Joe.”

Ben looked over at Adam and gave a faint smile and said, “Adam, I might have some memory loss but I still can read you and Hoss very well.  You’re trying to cover for that boy.  I suppose he’s not handling all of this very well, huh?”

“Pa – we’re just so glad you pulled through.  And I can assure you that Little Joe feels the same way,” Hoss responded quick to put his father’s mind at ease.

Ben looked bewildered and asked, “Little Joe?  Is that what you call him, Hoss?”

Hoss grinned and nodded.  “Ma started that — his Ma that is.  She called him that in French but we just called him Little Joe and it kind of stuck over the years.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Pa remarked.  “I know you both can imagine how hard this is on me too.  It’s just going to take some time to fill in the gaps in my memory.  It wasn’t until yesterday that I found out that we built that sawmill – and that was almost twenty years ago.  It still feels so strange to me – the things I can remember and the things I can’t.”

“Pa – you’ve got to take this slow like Doc said, okay?” Adam insisted, worry showing on his face.

“I will, Son,” Ben agreed and then continued to eat the special dinner which Hop Sing had prepared.  He wondered if the boy who had left so suddenly would reappear.

After their father had gone up to his room to get some sleep both Hoss and Adam made their way out to the barn.  They were concerned when Joe hadn’t returned in time to tell their father goodnight.

“Joe?” Adam called out when he spied his little brother sitting on an over-turned barrel in the barn.  He had his head resting in his hands, and neither brother could discern if the boy had been crying.  “You okay, Kid?”

Joe just nodded but never looked up at either of his brothers.

Hoss placed one of his massive hands down onto Little Joe’s shoulder and said, “Short Shanks, I know this is all real hard on you – but it will get better you’ve just got to have a little patience.”

“Yeah, Joe,” Adam chimed back in and continued, “We were real lucky, you know?  From what I read in a medical journal Pa could’ve easily died from that kind of an impact to that part of his brain.  That area even controls breathing – and it could’ve killed him without Doc being able to do anything about it.  Also, if that swelling hadn’t eased up the only other thing that could have been done was to get him very quickly to a hospital and they would’ve had to drill a hole into his skull to relieve the pressure.”

“You think I don’t know all of that stuff, Adam?” Joe began, finally looking up to face his brothers.  Though he had wiped away his tears on his shirtsleeves the minute he had heard their approach, it still was very evident on his face that he’d been crying.  “I looked up all of that stuff when you and Hoss were in Pa’s room reminiscing about old times!  I know what could’ve happened to Pa.  I’ve thanked God every single day since he came back to us.  But, neither of you can understand how I feel – when I see Pa looking at the two of you with love in his eyes and as for me – he looks at me like I’m some stranger’s kid.  He remembers old friends like Roy Coffee – he even remembers the newest neighbors who’ve only been around here a couple of years, yet he doesn’t remember his own son.  I’m doing the best I can!  I don’t need the two of you trying to make me feel guilty over the fact that I hurt inside and that I can’t exactly hide it!”

“Doc says Pa might still get his memories back – but we all have to give him time to do it.  It’s just been one week so far,” Hoss still tried to console his little brother.

Dropping his head back down into his hands, Joe’s tears began to fall again.  He wasn’t going to look up and show either of his brothers that he was, in fact, crying.   It was only Pa who he had felt comfortable enough with sharing that kind of an emotional outburst; or rather, it HAD been Pa.  Now, even that was gone, possibly forever.   “And just what am I supposed to do if Pa NEVER remembers me?” He asked, his voice trembling over the thought of the reality that he might be facing soon.

Hoss sent a heartbroken glance over to Adam who caught on its meaning right away.

Adam stooped down and set his hand onto his brother’s shoulder and answered as compassionately as he could, “If that’s the worst case scenario, Joe, then I know that Pa will try his best to get to know you.  Once he does – well, he will know in his heart that you’re his son and he’ll be able to show you that he loves you.”

“Love me?” Joe questioned, his voice rent with despondency.  “He doesn’t even know me.  You want to tell me how he’ll ever learn to love me when we have no past?  Every single minute of my life is gone – and it’s not going to come back to Pa.”

“You have a future — and a few days ago you prayed to God that he would spare your father.  You never put any conditions in your prayer, did you?  Would you rather that Pa had died knowing you – or would you rather him be alive right now with the chance of either remembering you – or learning to know you?” Adam tried again to get through to the kid.

“You make me feel like I’m selfish for wanting Pa to know me – and to love me like he used to do!” Joe called out full of anger now.

“We weren’t trying to make you feel like that, Little Joe,” Hoss whispered as he attempted to get his brother to simmer down.

Joe mopped at his eyes before pulling his head back up.  “I’m going to bed now – I’ve got horses that need to be saddle broken tomorrow,” He said and tried to convince his brothers that he was only concerned with chores.  Without another word the boy stood and, with his head hanging down sadly, walked away and headed into the ranch house.

Adam stood and moved over to Hoss.  “We’d better give him time to deal with all of this, Hoss.  Come on — I want to go check and see if Pa needs anything before I go to bed.  Both men followed Joe’s departing figure and hoped, that after he’d gotten some sleep, he would gather the willpower he’d need in order to endure another day of Pa’s lack of recognition towards him.

**********************************

The following day Joe had gone off to check on the horses which would need to be saddle broken soon.  He had tried his best to put everything else out of his mind.  It was a losing battle, because his mind just kept coming back to his father and how he now looked at him as dispassionately as he did a seasonal ranch hand.  He tried to remember what his brothers had told him about trying to have some patience but that was easier said than done.  Finishing his tasks early he headed back to the house where he spotted Pa sitting out on the front porch.  Joe tied his reins to the front hitching post and walked over to his father.

“Hi, Pa – how are you feeling today?” Joe began as he made it up to the porch.

“I’m fine, how are you?” Ben answered and looked up at the boy.

“I’m fine,” Joe answered and noticed that his father looked as though he was trying to think of something to say to him.  Every single one on one conversation that Joe had tried to have with Pa seemed stinted lately or at least all of the ones since the accident.

Ben cleared his throat and tried to find something else to say.  “Did you have a busy day?”

“No, Sir, not too bad.  Can I get you something – maybe some coffee?”

“No thank you, Hoss is in the kitchen now getting ready to bring me out a cup.”

Joe dropped his head lower and tried to hide his uneasiness.  He wished he could go back in time and maybe if he hadn’t tried to rush Pa through his big lecture the morning of the accident then maybe he wouldn’t have been outside quite so soon and perhaps Buck wouldn’t have thrown him.

“Here you go, Pa!” Hoss sang out cheerily and brought over a hot cup of coffee and set it there in front of Ben.  “Oh, hi Little Brother, I didn’t hear you ride in.”

Joe nodded over to Hoss and then said, “Hi Hoss, well, I’m going to go put my horse up.”  He turned and beat a fast exit walking away from both men.  Pa was in good hands, the hands of one of the sons who he actually knew.  Joe hadn’t missed the affectionate smile that Pa had cast over to Hoss as he placed the coffee cup there in front of him.  Joe had not gotten that kind of a smile when he had climbed the porch a few minutes earlier.  He had gotten the smile that a person gets from a stranger who they just happen to pass on the sidewalk there in town.  Joe also had noticed that he hadn’t been greeted by name, not Joe, not Joseph, not even Little Joe.  Grabbing Cochise’s reins in his hand, he headed slowly into the barn.

“What’d you and Little Joe talk about, Pa?” Hoss asked as he took a seat there next to his father.

Ben sighed and shrugged his shoulders.  “I couldn’t exactly get a read on that boy, Son.  It seemed like he was making an attempt to say something but as soon as you came out here he seemed relieved to go elsewhere.”

“Pa – he’s just having a tough time of it.”

“Does he blame me for not knowing him, Hoss?”

Hoss shook his head and answered, “No, Pa – it’s not that at all.  That kid was so worried about you – just as much as me and Adam were.  He’s glad you’re still here with us.  I think he’s just trying to get use to the situation.”

“I am too, Hoss.  It’s not easy to learn that I have a third son – one I have no recollection of.”

Hoss set his hand onto his father’ shoulder and replied, “It’s going to be okay, Pa – and remember the Doc said not to get worked up about anything.”

Ben sipped at his coffee and nodded over to Hoss to show him that he would do as he had been advised.  “I won’t get worked up – don’t worry.”

**********************************

By the second week, Ben Cartwright was feeling much better and was back to wearing his regular working clothes and he attempted to get back to all of the things that he’d always done in caring for the running of the Ponderosa.  Both Adam and Hoss had assisted him with telling him how far they were in getting the new herd ready to be delivered the following month to buyers in Arizona where they were going to sell the cattle and then they would be shipped back east to packing houses.  Adam had gone over the books with his father and soon Ben was well acclimated on all that was going on with the ranch and the running of the various businesses.  Hoss informed his Pa on how the new mounts were getting ready for the upcoming cattle drive and had told him that it was Little Joe who was assisting other wranglers with breaking the new horses.

Ben had gone with Hoss in the buckboard over to the main corral to see the new horses and watch them as they were getting saddle broken.  He spotted Joe readying to mount a new steed.  Ben hopped down from the wagon and approached the corral to watch the boy.  It hadn’t taken Joe long to be thrown off the bucking bronc, but just as fast he climbed back onto the horse and tried again.  Finally, after several attempts, Joe had made a good amount of headway in breaking the horse and turned the rest of the lesson over to another wrangler.

“Good job, Little Brother!” Hoss sang out and Joe made his way over to where both Hoss and Ben stood.

“Thanks,” Joe nodded and dusted off his pants.

“You seem quite good for someone your age,” Pa began, still trying his best to come up with something to say to the teenager.  “I guess you get some of your riding skills from your mother.”

“Yeah – I get it from her,” Joe said and couldn’t look into Pa’s eyes, because he knew he’d be looking at someone else now, and not the father who knew him.  He had tried, he had tried everything that he could think of to get close to Pa, but there always seemed to be a big wall that separated the two of them and Joe couldn’t figure out how to tear it down.  A long uneasy silence hung in the air.  Hoss, trying to let the two of them converse alone, had walked off just a couple of yards away and pretended to be interested in someone’s new boots.

“How are you doing, Pa?” Joe asked, as it was the only thing he could think of saying at the moment.   It was the usual exchange that Pa and he would have every single day.  Joe found it to be tiresome and monotonous, but it was better than nothing, or so he supposed.

“I’m doing just fine,” Ben nodded and then turned to see where Hoss had run off to.

Joe, noticing his Pa’s gaze shifting, seeking out his “real” son, excused himself and walked back to the other horses that needed to be ridden that day.

“It’s not getting any easier,” Pa sighed as his son came back to stand next to him.  “I just don’t quite understand that boy, Hoss.”

“Just give it some time, Pa.  You’re still adjusting to everything right now – it’ll get better.  Let’s get you home, okay?”

Ben nodded and returned, “Yes – I guess we’d better get home, I’ve got some payroll to work on.”

Joe watched as the buckboard pulled away.  His heart felt weighted down with both hurt and sadness.  He just plain out missed his Pa and what they had always shared.  It seemed so odd that he could miss the man who had been standing just a few feet from him only minutes ago.  But, his father was a million miles away, maybe even more.  Joe had to fight the urge, the same urge he’d had for weeks.  He wanted to grab Pa by the shoulders and shake him good and scream at him that he was looking right at his own flesh and blood.  Joe wanted to see the spark of recognition in Pa’s eyes and feel the man’s arms going around him holding him close and calling him “Joseph”.  But, that wasn’t going to happen no matter how much Joe wanted it to.

If it hadn’t been for the work he needed to get done Joe would have taken a ride into town and gone to the saloon to drown his troubles.  He suddenly felt like drinking a whole bottle of rot gut whiskey.  He had to shake himself from those thoughts.   There was a whole string of horses waiting on him.  Joe thought on what Pa had said about him getting his ability with horses from his mother.  At that moment he had to admit that he was beginning to feel closer to her than he did to his father, and just that thought hurt more than Joe could ever put into words.

***********************************

“Pa – did you find everything you needed?” Adam asked as he crossed the living room and headed for his father’s study.

“Yes, it took a while but all of my figures finally added up.  I do need some help from you,” Ben commented as his eldest drew closer to the desk.

“I really don’t have the memory of purchasing this safe – how long have we had it?”

“I guess it’s been about five years,” Adam remarked and sat down next to the desk.

“Well, let me give this a try,” Ben smiled and stooped down behind his desk next to the safe.  “Now – how about giving me the combination?  I didn’t see it written down anywhere inside my desk.”

Neither Ben nor Adam heard Joe entering the house and heading across the living room.  He paused when he noticed Pa down on the floor by the safe.

“It’s an easy one for you, Pa,” Adam smiled and readied to tell his father the combination.  “Go right left right left, turning just one time around with each number.”

“And what are the numbers?” Ben returned.

“Your birthday, then mine, Hoss’ and finally Joe’s, we figured we might as well make it fool proof,” Adam laughed.

“Okay,” Ben said as he called out each number as he turned the combination wheel.  “I guess twelve, then eighteen, then ten, and then –,” Pa stopped and had to look over at Adam.

Adam realized the problem and hurriedly called over to his father, “Joe’s is the thirty-first, Pa.”

Joe looked over at his father and fought the painful reminder again.  ***Pa doesn’t even know me so why in the world should he know my birthdate? ***

“Joe –,” Adam rang out, when he finally spied his brother and the sadness displayed all over his face.

“I’m going up to bed – I’m not hungry tonight,” Joe announced and proceeded to the stairs.

Ben stood up quickly and watched the young man once again hurrying off.  “I didn’t know he was standing there,” Pa frowned.

Adam moved over to his father and whispered, “It is okay, Pa – you had no way of knowing.  Like the doctor said – some of this will come back in time.

Pa frowned and remarked, “I didn’t mean to hurt the boy –and I’m afraid that’s exactly what I did by not knowing his birthdate.”

Patting his father’s arm he returned, “Joe has a thicker hide than he shows at times.  He’ll be fine – and well – you know his birthdate now.”

“What month?”

“Joe was born in October.”

Ben nodded and then turned back to the safe to finish his task.  Adam decided that he needed to go and have another talk with his youngest brother.  He didn’t like the way that Joe had walked away and wanted to try, once again, to get through to him.

“C’mon, Joe, open up I know you’re not asleep,” Adam said still knocking on the door to his brother’s bedroom.

Joe finally opened his door and looked at Adam very annoyed.  “What do you want?  I said I was going to bed.”

Adam pushed his way into the bedroom and faced his brother.  “Joe – you’ve just got to give Pa a break.  You’re making him feel bad by your attitude.  He didn’t know your birthdate but he does now so it’s never going to be an issue again.  Come on down and eat to show that you’re not upset.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I can drag you down there you know?  You’re not so grown that I can’t still lift you up and carry you,” Adam smiled, trying to get Joe to lighten up.

“It’s getting to me, Adam and that’s why I don’t want to sit and eat.  It’s better this way,” Joe admitted.

Adam put his arm around Joe’s shoulder and replied, “I know that you love our father – now it’s time you showed him.  He’s had an injury – and though it’s not like a broken leg – it’s still an injury.  You’d be the first one in this family to care for Pa if he was hurt in any other way.”

“It means more to him if you or Hoss help him.  I’m just a stranger to him.”

“Then go on down there and let him get to know you, Joe,” He tried again to get through to his brother.

“It hurts — just to look into Pa’s eyes,” Joe confessed sadly.

“Just try, come on you can do that much, can’t you?”

“I’ve been doing that for weeks now, Adam.  If he didn’t know you – or Hoss you’d not be so accepting of it.”

“If you love Pa you’ll get your butt downstairs and try.  Now Hop Sing is just about to put the plates on the table.  I’ll expect you down in a few minutes,” Adam called over to Joe and turned to leave the room.

***********************************

Joe did as his eldest brother had asked and had washed up and joined the family at the dinner table.  He still felt awkward but tried his best not to let it show.  Hoss went on about his day and then Adam told everyone what he had accomplished.  Ben turned to Joe.

“Little Joe, how was your day?  I know you were busy with those horses,” Ben said, hoping he could bring the youngest into the conversation.

*** “Little Joe?”  Pa – come on – where’s the “Joseph” anyhow?  Or Joe – or even “Joseph Francis Cartwright”?  As much as I absolutely hate my full given name it would sound okay coming from your mouth right about now! *** Joe thought to himself.

“Little Joe?” Ben asked once more.

Joe shook himself from his musing and replied, “Yeah – I was busy with those horses.” He couldn’t continue with small talk, still thinking of how his father didn’t know his birthday or much else about him.

“Do you have many more to get saddle broken?” Ben tried to keep the kid talking.

“Yeah – and really – I am tired.  Excuse me – I think I’d better get some sleep,” Joe quickly arose from the dinner table and headed towards the stairs.

Ben sighed and looked over at the two sons who he actually understood.  “I guess your brother wasn’t very hungry.”

“Joe’s like that sometimes, Pa – I guess that’s why he’s so skinny.  But it just means more for me,” Hoss quipped hoping to ease his father’s mind.

**********************************

Joe had endured a full month of not being known by his father.  He had tried his best and was just as cordial as he could be with the man, but he missed the closeness that they had shared.  Though he had witnessed Pa placing a hand onto Hoss’ shoulder and Adam’s arm at times, Pa was aloof when it came to any physical contact with the son he didn’t recognize.  Growing more frustrated as each day passed, one night after supper Joe had even planted his boots on top of the coffee table in full view of his father.  He had hoped that the disrespectful gesture would get some kind of a response by Pa.  Joe yearned to hear his father’s normal loud reprimand over what he had done.  Even anger would be some kind of an emotion towards him.  And Joe figured that if he could make Pa angry then he could make Pa happy as well.  But, though his father had looked over at him and witnessed the placement of his feet there on the table, he hadn’t said a word.

When payday rolled around, Joe decided it was time for a sojourn into Virginia City to unwind and also try to forget what was going on at home.  He played poker and he drank.  He also got into a short-lived exchange of punches with someone who was trying to cheat at the poker table.  After that he had a shot of rot gut and he drank more than usual, and by the time the Silver Dollar Saloon closed, Joe wasn’t feeling any pain.  He mounted Cochise and took his time arriving home.  The cool early spring air sobered him up a bit, but not completely.  Due to his somewhat tipsy state, he had awakened his family when he accidentally slammed the front door.  Both of his brothers appeared at the top of the stairs and soon they were flanked by Pa.

“Joe!” Hoss shouted.  “What are you doing, Boy?  You woke us up – and it’s after two in the morning!”

“Sorry,” Joe muttered and tried to hang up his hat, though it had taken three times to do it successfully.

“Go sleep it off, Kid,” Adam called down the stairs.

“Go to bed and leave me alone,” Joe snapped back at his two brothers.

Ben turned and looked at Hoss and Adam and said sternly, “You both go back to sleep.  I’ll have a talk with that boy.”

Hoss looked over at his brother and Adam just shrugged his shoulders.  He figured even if Pa didn’t know Joe, he did know how to give a stern lecture.  The two eldest sons turned and went back to bed.

Pa came down the stairs and noticed that Joe was readying to pour himself a little nightcap from the brandy there over next to his father’s desk.  Ben made it over to the boy who was supposed to be his son and drew the decanter away from Joe.

“You’ve had quite enough,” Ben announced and moved the bottle away.

“Fine,” Joe muttered and began to walk away.

“What happened to your eye?” Pa asked as he noticed the beginning of a deep dark blue bruise just underneath the boy’s left eye.

“Nothing,” Joe said tersely.

“Is that the tone you use with your father?” Ben asked raising his eyebrows.  He was both surprised and angered over the way that the young man had spoken to him.

Joe turned and stared hard at Pa and shook his head.  *** Oh so NOW he’s my father!  It takes me getting three sheets in the wind, brawling and staying out half of the night before he can admit to himself that he has another son! ***

“I don’t have anything to say – I’m going to bed,” Joe returned and began to walk away.

“Little Joe – I think you need to do some explaining about why you’re home late and apparently drunk.  And on top of all of that you’ve been fighting. Neither Adam nor Hoss ever came home in the condition that you’re in especially when they were your age.  A seventeen year old has no business running around until all hours of the night getting drunk and brawling.   On top of all of that your brothers never spoke to me like you just did!” Pa continued admonishing the young man who stood there seemingly unaffected by his words.

*** There he goes again calling me “Little Joe” – what’s it take to get a loud “Joseph!” out of him? *** Joe mused internally.

“Well it’s so good that you remember both Adam and Hoss so fondly.  In fact, it’s nice of you to remember them at all!” Joe retorted, still feeling his liquor.

“I see you’re testing me – is that it?” Ben asked as he neared the boy.

“I’m not testing anyone – I’m trying to get up to my room.”

“Alright – then you tell me what I’m supposed to do about this situation.  Should I take my belt off to you – is that what you need from me?   Or should I just yell at you?  Come on – you’re the one who knows how I used to relate to you so tell me all about it!”

Joe finally faced his father and looked into his eyes.  He read anger there but still not the least bit of recognition in them.  “You have to care about someone to punish them – and we both know that you don’t really care about me.  You don’t have it in you to care about me—I’m a stranger to you.  And, the father that I used to know is now gone.  I don’t hold it against you.  You got hurt –it’s not your fault — – it’s just the plain facts.  You don’t know me and because of that you can’t love me.   Now if you want to take your belt off to me or yell at me — have at it!  If not I’m going to bed,” Joe replied with one hundred per cent pain in his voice.

Pa stood there next to the young man and didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He would have known what to do if it had been a younger Adam or Hoss who had come in like Joe had and said the things that he had said to him.  However Joe had told the bare truth of the matter.   Pa didn’t know who the boy was and hitting him or yelling at him wasn’t going to change that.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been what you needed,” Pa whispered.

Joe fought his tears, but they formed in his eyes just the same.  He turned towards the stairs and then hurried up to his room.  The father he had known never would have tolerated the behavior that he had displayed that night, but the father that he had known loved him and because of that would have set him straight if he had come in late, drunk and belligerent.  Pa’s belt surely would have gotten a work out and there would have been enough yelling to wake the whole town of Virginia City almost thirty miles away.  The man downstairs was a decent man, but he wasn’t Pa anymore, and so, without incident, the discussion was over.

***********************************

“I’ve got two cords of wood waiting for your expertise,” Sheriff O’Brien called in through the cell bars as he turned the key in the lock.

Joe slowly came to his feet and held his ribcage.  He still ached with the movement but he figured he’d probably live, maybe even long enough to serve out his time and then move on to another town.  Joe would be sure to check out the next saloon a little more cautiously then he had the Golden Lily two nights ago.

“Here you go,” The sheriff took Joe behind the jail and showed him the very large woodpile.

“That’s an awful lot of wood,” Joe commented and frowned.  “It’s summer, what’s the big hurry?”

“Oh this isn’t anything – wait until you’re cleaning spittoons over at the saloon in a few days.  Yep — I’ve got all kinds of interesting jobs for you, Mister Carson.”

Joe hefted the axe and settled the first piece of wood onto the block.  He knew it would take several days to get through the amount of wood that was facing him and he dreaded the effect it would have on his injured body.

“Jeremy will be here in a few minutes to keep his eye on you.  You get a couple of breaks midday and I’ll bring you back inside around five.  Get to swinging, Kid!”

Joe drew in a deep breath and took the first swing.  He wished that he could simply send a wire to Pa and ask him to come and get him out of the fix he found himself to be in but that was now impossible.  There was only one way out of his predicament, and that was through a ton of wood and a lot of other jobs which would see him through to August.

“I’m too tired to eat,” Joe called out to the deputy as he collapsed onto the cot later that evening.  I’m going to sleep until it’s time to go cut more wood.”

The deputy set the food outside of the jail cell and called in through the bars, “You are one stubborn son of a gun!  Just wire your old man and get him to come and get your butt out of jail!”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t have an OLD MAN?” Joe fussed and tried his best to get comfortable on the lumpy cot.

“Whatever you did can’t be so bad that your pa wouldn’t come and fetch you,” He continued.

“Goodnight deputy,” Joe called and set the wet towel over his face.

“Stubborn son of a gun,” Jeremy muttered and picked up the untouched dinner plate and walked back into the office.

*********************************

March had passed, and so had April and May with no change to Ben’s memory loss.  It had frustrated him and it had almost devastated Joe.  There became an uneasy under- current between the two of them, a strange feeling of uncertainty over what was expected in their non-existent relationship.  Joe fought to show some respect to the man who had been his main source of strength before the injury.  He had also been his confidant and the person that he most relied on.  But, that was gone now.  Ben tried to make small talk with the young man but never quite found out what existed below the surface concerning Joe.  He didn’t know how much the youngest needed him, having already raised two boys who were now men.  Pa didn’t know about Joe’s sensitive side, the part he kept hidden very well from all others.  He didn’t know the boy’s insecurities either, and because of that he didn’t understand the hurt that stayed in Joe’s eyes most days.  At best their relationship, if one could call it that was just a matter of peaceful coexistence.

Both Hoss and Adam had noticed the change in their little brother and it worried them.  He kept to himself most of the time no matter how much they tried to pull him out of his shell.  They realized how much his former relationship with their Pa had meant to their brother, it was what had given him a direction and a rock to cling to during the hard times.  Without those things, Joe just didn’t seem like Joe.

Doctor Martin had sent off numerous letters to specialists who had experience, far more than he did, on the type of injury which Ben Cartwright had sustained.  Most of the responses were all vague as to a prognosis.  The general consensus was that only time could help with the injury and in some cases, depending on the severity of the initial damage, the patient would recover fully.  There were a few replies which were iffy as to whether Ben would recoup his lost memories.  Doc had checked Ben’s progress, and by late May there still hadn’t been any recovered memories.  Ben had discovered that he had helped to build the saw mill there on the Ponderosa almost twenty years prior, though he didn’t remember anything about it.  He couldn’t remember the pastor of the church or his wife, though Pa had been very involved with numerous charity events with both of them.  He didn’t know the man who ran the feed and grain store, even though he had put up the initial money for the building of it many years ago.  Of course he forgot little things about small additions to the ranch house, however he remembered Adam helping to design the place.  He recalled how his eldest had graduated from college with honors and Ben even remembered every single blue ribbon that Hoss had won at all of the stock shows.  It was all just pieces, pieces of his life and some were still there whereas others had simply disappeared.  But the most devastating loss had been the memories of the birth of his youngest son along with seventeen years of Little Joe’s life.  He had remembered Marie’s fall out in the yard and how he had held her as she drew her last breath.  Marie would have been destroyed over the knowledge that Ben could not remember their son, the product of their love.

Paul knew how the situation had affected Joe Cartwright, who he had seen on several occasions.  The boy seemed withdrawn, which was unusual for the normally rambunctious youngest Cartwright.  Doc had pulled Joe aside at least a half of a dozen times to try to cheer him and to tell him not to give up hope.  He could tell, after almost a full three months had passed, that Joe had resigned himself to the knowledge that the relationship which he had cherished with his father would never return.

*********************************

After the three Cartwright sons had begun the preparations for the upcoming cattle drive, Joe had decided that he needed to go away for a while.  He had asked Ben if he could talk to him privately after dinner one night and he wondered just what the young man would have to say.

“I’d like to go away for a week – if it’s okay with you,” Joe began.

Pa leaned back in his chair in the study and looked at the son who he still didn’t recognize.  “Go where?”

“This is the time of year when all of the line-shacks get re-supplied.  I was hoping to take a pack horse and do just that.  I figure maybe five to seven days ought to do it.  You do know that they’re all spread out on the ranch, right?”

Ben nodded and forced a smile aimed at the boy who nervously sat there next to the desk.  “Yes, I remember where they all are.  Now– you’re not just doing this to get away from me are you?”

Joe looked down to the floor and shifted his weight in the chair.  “No—I mean – no, Sir,” Joe corrected his words.  “Listen—I know I’ve not been as respectful as I should’ve been to you.  And I apologize.  I just need to get away for a few days to clear my head.”

“This job won’t involve you getting into trouble in Virginia City again?”

“No – no Sir – I won’t be going into town,” Joe replied, and tried to sound sincere.

Ben stood and approached the boy in the chair.  He wanted to reach down and touch his shoulder but couldn’t help feeling awkward around Joe for some reason.  He had always been demonstrative with his two sons – and here in front of him was supposed to be his youngest and the one who would need some kind of assurance from his father.  Ben wished that he could feel the bond that everyone said that Joe and he had shared.  He stopped short from touching the boy.

“That’s fine then – you go ahead if that’s what you want to do.  However I hope you’re really not doing this to avoid me.”

Joe shook his head and responded, “No – I just need a little time, I’ve got some thinking to do and I can do that while I get those line-shacks in order.”

Ben stood and eased down onto the corner of his desk and tried to study the young man’s face and said, “Is there anything that I can help you with?”

“No, Sir,”

“When do you want to leave?”

“First thing tomorrow if it’s okay with you?”

Ben sighed and stopped trying to get a look into the boy’s eyes.  Joe always kept his guard up around him and he just didn’t know why.  He wished he could somehow break through the barrier and then, just maybe, he’d get some insight into who Joe Cartwright really was; besides his third son.

“You have my permission, Little Joe – but I’ll be expecting you back at the end of the week.  Are you any good with promises?”

*** Oh Dear Lord – could you please just call me Joseph – just once—just once! *** Joe pleaded inwardly.  *** Why couldn’t Adam or Hoss tell Pa that he calls me Joseph?  Even if it’s forced — I just want to hear him say it – and not this Little Joe stuff.  I don’t mind Hoss – or Adam or Hop Sing calling me that – but Pa calls me Joseph dammit! ***

Joe frowned, he couldn’t help thinking about the very last conversation that he had with Pa before his fall.  Joe had promised to do better at following orders and that promise had come right after he had lied to Pa about drinking and getting home on time.  “I try,” Joe returned.

“Then promise me you’ll be back on time and that you’ll stay away from town.  I don’t want any more incidents like you had two weeks ago.”

“I promise,” Joe nodded.

“Then you can leave in the morning,” Ben agreed and stood from the desk.

“Thanks,” Joe called as he got up from his chair and walked to the door.  There was no pat to his back from Pa, nor did he expect one.  He hadn’t felt one single touch from the man since he had fallen.  He supposed that a show of affection was only meant for the sons that Pa knew were his, and not him.  Joe hurried out to get supplies ready so he could leave at first light.

**********************************

There were a total of six line shacks spread out in all directions on the Ponderosa Ranch.  Joe had made good progress in covering all but one and it was almost the end of the week.  So he readied to get to the last one and make the necessary provision drop off along with making sure everything was cleaned up in case the place was needed later in the summer and fall months.

Joe pulled his pack horse up to the final line shack and then dismounted Cochise.  He reached over and untied a bundle of supplies and headed inside the cabin.  Just as soon as he crossed the threshold he heard the sound.  It was unmistakable.  Joe turned to the sound of the hammer of a gun.

“Timmons — what in the hell are you doing here?” Joe shouted towards his old nemesis.

“I needed a place to stay.  Now you don’t mind that I borrowed some grub and a bottle of rot gut that I helped myself to, do you, Joe?”

Joe stared hard at the other man and his blood ran cold.  He couldn’t possibly count the many run-ins that he had with Pete Timmons over the years.  He was as cunning as a serpent and just as deadly.  And he had always had it in for Joe, though it had never been fully explained to Joe as to why.

“Put down that gun and just get out of here!” Joe exclaimed.

“I need a horse – mine went lame on me.  I guess I’ll help myself to that pack horse you’ve got there,” Pete smiled, still holding the six-gun aimed at Joe.

“They hang horse thieves you know?”

“I’ll just “borrow” it they don’t hang you for borrowing a horse.  Now say that I can have it so I don’t have any problems when I get into town.”

“Go to Hell!” Joe sneered.  “You talk big when you’ve got a gun and the drop on me.  How about using your fists – if you win you can have that horse?”

Pete holstered his gun and smiled sinisterly.  “Good – I prefer to take you that way, Kid.”

“Don’t give me that kid stuff – you’re only a few years older than me!”

Pete rushed Joe and shoved him up against one of the cabin’s walls.  Joe was able to pull his legs up and kicked Timmons across the room.  Pete came back with a left hook to Joe’s jaw which knocked him to the floor.  He dove on top of Joe and then they both got in a couple of good hard licks at each other’s stomachs.  Joe finally made it to his feet and rushed Pete, knocking him outside.  Timmons got his hands on a piece of stove wood and before Joe could react, the man hit him over the head and knocked him out cold.

“Thanks for the horse – oh and for the supplies, Joe!” Pete laughed as he untied the pack horse and hurriedly mounted.

Joe lay there on the ground in front of the line shack for almost an hour.  When he came back around Joe’s face winced and he rubbed at the back of his head.  He could feel the knot growing there and he moaned.  Joe also felt his ribs and determined that at least one of them hadn’t held up to the man’s punches to it.  He figured going back to the ranch house would be the wisest thing to do, especially now that the pack horse and supplies were gone. Slowly and carefully he mounted his horse and headed for home.

******************************

There was a rather rough dismount there in front of the Ponderosa ranch house and it was witnessed by both of Joe’s brothers.

“Joe!  Joe, are you okay?” Adam called as he hurried next to his little brother.

“Yeah — just need a hand up,” Joe answered and struggled to his knees.

Hoss came charging over from the barn and lifted his brother up like a feather and made his way into the house.  Ben had heard the loud call outside and jogged from his study to the front door.  He saw Hoss with Joe in his arms.

“What happened to the boy?” Ben asked worriedly.

“Looks like someone clobbered him, Pa.  I’m going to take him to his room – go ask Hop Sing to bring up the “usual”,” Hoss announced and headed for the staircase.

Soon Hoss had Joe laid out on his bed and Adam and Ben gathered around the boy.  Hop Sing made it upstairs shortly thereafter and brought a tray with him.

Adam pulled Hoss into the hall for a minute and walked out of earshot of both Pa and Joe.

“What’s going on, Adam?  We should be in there!” Hoss protested.

“I just want to see how this goes,” Adam whispered.

“Huh?”

“See how Pa reacts to Joe being hurt – who knows it might jog a memory out of him.  It’s worth a shot.   We can go in there but let’s see how Pa handles it.”

Hoss nodded and soon joined Adam inside Joe’s bedroom.

“Here ice, Mister Ben,” Hop Sing handed his boss a towel filled with ice.

“Here – where do you need this most?” Ben asked Joe.

“My ribs hurt but I’ve got a good knot on the back of my head.  I could use the ice there,” Joe muttered.

“Best check his head and his ribs, Pa,” Hoss announced.

Pa unbuttoned Joe’s shirt and prodded the area.  “It doesn’t feel like you’ve got any busted ribs they’re just bruised pretty badly. He then felt the knot on the back of Joe’s head. Keep this ice on that bump on your head for a while and it should help with the soreness,” Pa said and watched the looks which passed between Hoss and Adam.

*** Pa you’re supposed to sit on the bed next to the kid! *** both Adam and Hoss thought to themselves.  They wanted to see the “old” Pa doing what he did best, taking care of a wounded Little Joe.

“Here – give boy brandy,” Hop Sing called and handed Ben a shot glass with the amber liquid.

Pa handed the brandy over to Joe and he took a few sips before handing the glass back to him.  He yearningly looked up at his father, hoping to feel his hand trying to comfort him, but that didn’t happen.

“Who did this to you, Little Joe?” Pa asked as he sat down in the chair next to the bed.

“Pete Timmons – he jumped me at the last line shack up on the northeast corner of the ranch.  He stole my pack horse and all of the supplies too.  I’ll get him once I’m not so sore.”

“Who’s Pete Timmons?” Ben questioned and turned towards his eldest sons.

“Long story, Pa,” Hoss announced.  “He’s always had it in for Little Joe.”

Joe stared over at his father and mused to himself ***Well at the very least it’s good to know you don’t remember Timmons, Pa.  But, then again, you don’t know me so what’s the difference? ***

Hop Sing waited for Ben to pick up the wet wash cloth to clean Joe’s face but he hadn’t touched it.  Finally he just handed it directly to the man and said, “Little Joe’s face – clean to see if has cut.”

Ben shot the cook a quizzical expression, not exactly sure what the man was trying to get him to do.  He took the cloth from Hop Sing’s hand and slowly wiped away the grime from Joe’s face.

“Not too bad, Little Joe – I don’t see anything but some bruises.  You should be fine – you’ll just be sore for a while,” Ben said as he handed the cloth back to Hop Sing.

Hoss turned to Adam and shook his head.  Their plan hadn’t worked.  Pa would have shown the same care for a wounded ranch hand.

“Can I get you anything else, Little Joe?” Ben asked as he stood from the chair.

***Yeah you can go get my Pa – that’s what you can get me!  He would sit here on the side of my bed and he’d be pushing these darned curls off of my forehead! He would fuss over me until I would tell him to go – but he’d stay!  It always meant so much to me — that now that it’s gone it hurts worse than what Timmons did to me!  And, please in the name of all that’s holy, call me “Joseph!” *** Joe thought as he closed his eyes and fought back tears.

“Boys your brother will be fine.  Let’s let him get some sleep.  Little Joe, if you need us just call out,” Pa said and turned for the door.

“Maybe one of us should sit with him?” Hoss asked, and hoped that Pa would be the one to volunteer.

“This boy needs rest.  You’ll be okay, won’t you, Little Joe?” Pa asked standing in the doorway.

*** I swear if you call me Little Joe one more time I’m going to cuss! *** Joe thought to himself.

“Little Joe did you hear me?” Ben asked again.

“Darn it everyone just leave me the hell alone!  I’m fine – I don’t need ANYONE or ANYTHING!  Now close my door!”  Joe shouted and turned his face away from all four men.

Adam touched his father’s arm and nodded for him to let Joe be by himself to calm down a while.

“Call if you need us,” Hoss said.  “I’ll take care of Timmons, Little Brother.”

Joe didn’t say anything more he simply looked in the opposite direction from the departing figures of his family.  He needed a good cry.

*********************************

Joe had rested for four hours and never heard anyone come up to check on him.  That didn’t mean that they hadn’t, just that he never heard anyone.  Finally deciding to go downstairs to try to get more brandy for his sore ribs Joe made it out of his room and out to the hallway.  He heard a loud discussion going on so he stealthily made it to the top of the staircase to try to listen.

“Pa – if it had been me or Hoss who were hurt you would’ve stayed up there non-stop —and you used to be even more overly protective with Joe!” Adam protested.

“Yeah, Pa – we understand that you don’t remember this stuff, but you always fussed over Joe and that boy needed it.  It was what got him through some really rough injuries and illnesses!” Hoss added.

Ben stood by the fireplace and sighed.  He was beside himself, not knowing what he could do for the boy who he had no memory of prior to his injury.

“I’m sorry if I didn’t handle it right.  Listen, Boys, I know that I am his father, and I know that he is my son, and I know that I’m supposed to love him – but I just don’t know him.”

Joe had heard what his father had said and it struck at his heart.  Pa had said that he was “supposed” to love him.  It was now confirmed in his mind, since he had finally heard the words spoken directly from Pa’s mouth.  He couldn’t love him, he didn’t know him. As far as Joe was concerned he would never know him and thus, he would never love him.  It was time to put an end to all of this.  Joe turned back into the hall and slowly eased down to his bedroom, He wiped at his eyes as he made plans on what he would do about the situation.  Joe knew that it was time for him to let go, and just leave.  If he had to lose his father at least he wouldn’t have to see him every day and have the constant reminder that the man didn’t love him and never would.

The first step in Joe’s plan to leave the Ponderosa was to get to feeling a bit better before getting back into the saddle for an extended trip.  He had absolutely no intention of returning home once he had left.  Joe took numerous trips out to the barn for five days after he had been roughed up by Pete Timmons.  Hoss had retrieved the Cartwright’s pack horse and most of the supplies the day after learning that the man had beaten his little brother.  From all accounts, Pete ended up looking far worse than Joe had after Hoss got done with him.  He had also taken him to Sheriff Coffee and had been placed in a jail cell for two weeks as a sentence for, as he had called it, “borrowing” a horse and some food.  None of that had come as a surprise to Joe, as he knew that one or both brothers would avenge what the evil Pete Timmons had done to their younger brother.

Having the supplies already packed up, some of which had been taken from Hop Sing’s pantry, Joe hid his saddlebags behind Cochise’s stall out in the barn.  He dug through his sock drawer to see how much money he had squirreled away.  Joe spread the money out on his bedspread and had to throw his pillow over all of it when Adam had just walked into his room unannounced.

“Joe?  Aren’t you coming down for supper?  I hollered for you five minutes ago.”

“Oh – sorry – I’ll be right down, just give me a minute,” Joe replied and tried not to look as guilty as he felt at the time.

“Okay, Joe – shake a leg will you – we’re ready to eat!” Adam insisted and then closed the bedroom door.

Having decided to sit down for one last meal with his family before he left for places unknown, Joe stashed his money a bit better and then moved down to the dining room.

“For all of our blessings, Dear Lord, we give you thanks, amen,” Ben finished saying grace and then handed the rolls down the table.

“You’re looking a little better, Little Joe,” Pa commented as he stared over at the boy.

Joe nodded towards his father but didn’t look directly at the man.  “Yes, Sir – I’m doing alright.”

“Old Timmons ain’t looking so good,” Hoss laughed and witnessed his little brother’s smile aimed over at him.

“Thanks again, Hoss – I appreciated you giving old Pete my regards!” Joe grinned.

“He’s lucky I was busy paying off the hands, or I would’ve helped Hoss with that delightful task,” Adam quipped.

“Well, I don’t like any of you taking the law into your own hands,” Pa began but then broke into a smile of his own and continued, “However, from what I’ve heard about that Timmons fellow from you boys the last few days it sounds like we owed him a thrashing,” Ben agreed with his sons on what Pete had deserved.

“You feel up to helping us tomorrow, Joe?” Adam asked.

Joe tried to figure out some excuse because he wasn’t planning on being on the ranch after daybreak.  “I’m not exactly ready for that, Adam — just give me another day or two my ribs are still kind of sore.”

Ben looked over at the boy to his right and remarked, “If your ribs are still bothering you, Little Joe, maybe we need to take you to see Doctor Martin.”

Joe bit at his bottom lip and finally looked over at Pa.  “No, Sir – I’m just a little sore that’s all – I’ll be fine.  I just need a day or two and I’ll be back to work,” Joe answered, and had to hide the fact that every single time he heard his father using the name “Little Joe” it had just been another painful reminder of the fact that the father who he had known for seventeen years had been replaced by a stranger with his face.

“You haven’t been riding your horse lately, have you?” Pa asked Joe.

“No – I told you my ribs are still smarting a little bit – why do you ask?”

Ben stared directly into the boy’s eyes and said, “I’ve seen you going to the barn off and on the past few days.  I didn’t know if you’d gone out riding that’s all.”

*** You haven’t noticed a darn thing that I’ve done for three straight months but now that I’m actually trying to keep something from you – well you get nosey. *** Joe mused.

“Little Joe – did you hear me?” Pa tried to get the boy to answer his question.

“I was just out in the barn talking to my horse that’s all,” Joe replied defensively.

Adam saw that his brother looked suddenly tense and he wondered just what was going on with him.  “Hey, Kid – Pa wasn’t on your case about it – he doesn’t know how attached you and that horse are.  Pa – sometimes Hoss and I think that Cochise actually talks to Joe.”

“I meant to comment about your pinto, Little Joe,” Pa began and tried to put the boy at ease.  He hadn’t meant for his questions to sound like he was putting the boy on the spot.  “That’s a very interesting name – Cochise.  Did you name her?”

“Yes, Sir, I named her,” Joe nodded.

“Where did you get her?  She’s a good looking mare,” Ben tried to keep the boy talking, as most nights he was far too quiet.  He knew that Joe was still standoffish around him.

Joe closed his eyes and fought back the sudden glistening of tears.  It had been the memory of his Pa and him going to the Paiute Chief Winnemucca and getting the horse which sent a pain to his heart.  It had been one of his best memories and it was something that tied Joe, Pa and Cochise together.

Becoming aware of the sadness very well displayed on his little brother’s face, Hoss jumped into the conversation.  “Pa you took Joe up to the Paiute encampment and Chief Winnemucca gave it to Joe as a present.”

“Oh – I didn’t remember that – sorry, Little Joe,” Pa apologized.

*** Little Joe – Little Joe – I can’t take it anymore!  And I don’t need to hear any more questions either.  I just have to get out of here! *** Joe’s thoughts played in his mind until he had to get up from the table so he wouldn’t blurt out how much he was hurting with every word that Pa said.

“I’m going to bed — I’m kind of tired – excuse me,” Joe announced and dropped his napkin on the table as he stood.

“See you in the morning,” Pa said to the departing young man.

“Good night, Little Brother!”

“Good night, Kid!”

Joe turned to look at each of his family members one last time.  “Good night,” He replied and hurried to the stairs.

“Your brother seemed very edgy tonight – did you notice?”

Hoss nodded, as did Adam.  “Joe doesn’t like to slow down and he’s been stuck around the house for the last couple of days.  Once he can get back out I think he’ll be happy.”

“You don’t think it was because I mentioned his horse?  Did that bother him?”

Adam drank some of his coffee and thought on the whole discussion during dinner.  “I don’t know, Pa — I don’t think it had much to do with talking about Cochise.  You know we all have trouble figuring out the kid at times.  You were the only one who could read him well.”

“I hope I can get to that point again, Adam – but he still seems a bit distant every time I try to talk to him,” Ben frowned over his inability to understand the boy upstairs.

“Pa – three months might seem like a long while – but from what I read about the kind of injury that you’ve had it could take a lot longer.  The main thing is not to stress about it – if you get some of those memories back just let them come in their own time.”

Ben smiled and looked with pride at both of his sons.  “You both sure are level headed — well – from what I remember of course.”

Hoss and Adam exchanged glances and smiled over what their father had said.

“We learnt it all from you, Pa!” Hoss smiled and reached over to pat his father’s arm.

*********************************

Joe had everything ready.  The saddlebags were packed and behind Cochise’s saddle waiting there in the barn and his money was stashed inside of his bedroll.  All he had to do was get some ammunition and his hat, coat, and holster and he could leave.  Joe had to wait until late that night when everyone was asleep.  He made it until one a.m. and then moved out of his room.  Joe looked longingly across the hall where his father’s room was.  He had tried to fight temptation but he just couldn’t leave without one last parting look at his Pa.  As stealthily as he could possibly manage, Joe crept into Pa’s bedroom.  There was just enough light given off by the lantern hanging there in the hall to see inside the bedroom.  Joe tiptoed over to where his father was lying sound asleep.  He moved to the head of the bed and stared down at Pa.  Silent tears streamed down Joe’s cheeks as he realized that he’d never see his father again.   He remembered so well having stood over Pa’s bed, now over three months ago, as he had begged God to save his life.  He still thanked the good Lord that he answered his fervent prayer.   Joe wished that things had worked out differently as far as the memory loss, but at least Pa was alive and no matter what else had happened, he was very grateful for that.  But, there was just no living with the constant reminder of how he had been removed from his Pa’s heart.  Joe just couldn’t wait day after day for recognition that he felt would never come.  He couldn’t bear it.

*** I’ll always miss what we had – you were a great father – I’ll always love you – goodbye, Pa. *** Joe thought as he took one final look at Pa and then turned quietly out of the bedroom pulling the door closed.

Joe donned his jacket, hat, and holster and headed out to the barn.  He had decided that he was just going to keep riding and never look back.  He had to.

*********************************

“Hey Carson – Cartwright – whoever you are – get up!” Jeremy called into the jail cell.

Joe groaned as he rolled onto his side and stared through blurry eyes over to the very loud deputy.  “Is it morning already?”

Jeremy laughed and turned the key in the lock and entered the cell.  “You’d better eat some breakfast, Boy you’ve got a lot of work to do and only a half of a day to do it in.  So go ahead and dig in since you hardly ate anything yesterday.”

Joe pulled himself up on the cot and took the plate and cup from Jeremy.  Hunger had set in after all of the wood chopping that he had done the previous day.

“Thanks,” Joe nodded to the deputy and hurried to eat the eggs and biscuit.  “How many more tons of wood do I have to chop today?  And why do I only have a half of a day to do it in?”

“You only got through half of it yesterday, Joe, so you’ve got the other half waiting on you.  Oh and you’re only going to work until around eleven.  Sheriff O’ Brien doesn’t work anyone past eleven on the Sabbath – and it is Sunday by the way so you get a break.  Hey, Joe your face sure is colorful today.  Kid, you’ve got a black eye and a very black and blue jaw.”

Joe grinned and shook his head, “Yeah – I don’t need you to tell me, I can feel every inch of my body today.  Of course all of that work really helped me to recoup!”

“Cheer up!   You only have about three weeks and five days now to go — least that’s how I count it.”

Joe downed the coffee and then polished off his breakfast.  Is there somewhere I can kind of clean up a bit?”

“I’ll bring you in some soap and fresh water and maybe I can get my hands on a clean towel for you.  But, if I was you I’d wait until I was done cutting wood before going through all of that.”

Joe nodded and sighed as he stood up.  “You’ve got a point, Deputy.  I guess it will feel better after I go and sweat for a while.  Well – lead me to that wood pile!”

Jeremy moved aside and allowed Joe to go on ahead of him.  He still didn’t understand why a seventeen year old kid who had come from a good family would want to stay and put in some hard manual labor instead of swallowing his pride and admitting to whatever he had done to make his father mad.  Jeremy thought on the fact that if he’d have had a father who could help him out with his problems that he’d be the first person he’d call.”

Joe worked hard chopping and stacking firewood from seven in the morning until eleven and then Jeremy ushered him back into his jail cell.

“I’ll go find you that soap, water and hopefully a clean towel, Joe.  Be back in a few minutes,” The deputy called and locked the cell door.

“No hurry,” Joe replied as he spread out on the bunk absolutely worn out.  He closed his eyes and wondered what was going on back at the Ponderosa.  Joe missed his two brothers, and even though Pa had no clue as to who he was, his youngest son still missed the man badly.  Joe supposed that Adam and Hoss went out searching for him, but he had hid his trail pretty well at least for the first few days.  Afterwards, he had just kept on moving from town to town and never staying long in any one place.  Joe had gone in every possible direction as he wanted to hide from anyone who might be out there looking for him.  He wondered if Pa had gone along in the search or if he had simply delegated that task to the sons who he knew.  A few times Joe had thought on going back to the Ponderosa and trying again to live a life that was without a history, at least as far as his father was concerned.  But, he decided that it would put even more of a strain on all of those there at home.  Joe reasoned that they were better off forgetting him, and Pa had already done that, so Hoss and Adam might eventually be able to do the same.  Regardless it had been a month now, and Joe came to the conclusion that any search for him had long since been called off.

“Here you go, Joe,” Jeremy sang out as he brought in a fresh bucket of water along with a towel and some soap.

Joe stood and approached the steel bars.  “I appreciate it,” Joe nodded towards the man as he unlocked the door and handed everything over to him.

“I figure a man ought to at least try to start the week off smelling half-way decent,” The deputy smiled and re-locked the cell door.

Joe brought everything over to the cot and pulled off his shirt and began to wash his face, neck and chest.  He shook out his shirt, and though it surely could’ve used a good washing too, it would do.  After he had made sure that the door which separated the front office and the jail cell was closed, Joe dropped his pants and long- john bottoms and did a quick once over with the soap and water.  He dried himself, redressed and then set everything back over by the bars to his cell.

Joe thought on the fact that it was Sunday and he figured Pa and his brothers would be in church at the time.  He remembered Doc Martin telling him that Pa had forgotten both the pastor and his wife due to his injury.  He knew, however, that his father would still attend church and probably was there in his usual pew at that very moment.

*** Dear God, forgive me for my sins, and for everything that I’ve done wrong, amen*** Joe thought to himself as he closed his eyes.  He figured that a prayer wouldn’t hurt at the time, especially since he was alone and in jail.

**********************************

The door opened and Sheriff O’Brien walked back to Joe’s cell.  He stared over at his prisoner and said, “Joe – you all cleaned up?”

“Yes, Sheriff — thanks,” Joe nodded to the man.

“Okay – I need to talk to you in my office for a minute,” O’Brien said and unlocked the jail cell door.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just need to see you to get something settled.  Follow me,” The sheriff said cryptically.  Joe moved out of the cell, walking right behind the man and into the office.

As soon as Joe crossed the threshold that separated the two rooms he noticed the man standing there in front of the sheriff’s desk.  It was Ben Cartwright, and only Ben Cartwright.

Sheriff O’Brien settled down into his chair and looked up at Ben.  “Is this your son, Mister Cartwright?” O’Brien asked, though it was only for effect as the three men had already discussed the situation and determined exactly what would be said in front of Joe.  Ben had already taken care of the fine and simply answered the question as a formality.

Ben nodded his head and replied, “Yes, Sheriff, that’s my son.”

Joe looked down at the floor and not over at his father.  He couldn’t help wondering how he had found him and why he had even bothered to do it.

“That’s funny – he said he was Joe Carson,” The sheriff laughed and shot a glance at the boy.

“I knew he was Joe Cartwright,” Jeremy grinned.  “I might have only met you and your three sons once, Mister Cartwright, but I never forget a face!”

“Well, as I told you, I appreciate you both sending me that wire so I can bring him back home,” Ben addressed the two men.

“Your father has already paid for your share of the damages, Joe, so here’s your gun your jacket and your hat,” The sheriff said and handed all of the items to his former prisoner.

Joe put his hat and jacket on, never looking over at his father.  He then buckled his holster.

“Stay out of trouble,” Sheriff O’Brien said to Joe as Ben moved towards the door to leave.

“Yes, Sir,” Joe mumbled and watched as Pa opened the door and waited for him to move out in front of him.

“I’ve seen to your livery bill and my horse is alongside yours right now.  Let’s go,” Ben announced, with little emotion in his voice.

“Go where?”

“I’ve got a hotel room for us.  Now, as I said, let’s go,” Pa’s tone suddenly became a bit more severe.

“I’d rather just leave,” Joe replied.

“It doesn’t matter to me what you’d “rather” you’re going to the hotel with me right now.  I’ve spent a month searching for you, and I’m not very pleased with what you did so just do as I’ve said,” Ben’s response came out with a good bit of anger to it this time, so Joe didn’t protest any further.  Both Cartwrights walked down the street and to the hotel.

Joe had obeyed what hadn’t been a suggestion but rather an order from his father.  They made their way into the hotel and Pa guided Joe up to their room.  Pa turned the key in the door and then moved aside for his son to enter first.

“Sit!” Ben commanded and pointed to the bottom of one of the two beds in the room.

Joe reluctantly moved across the hotel room and lighted down on the bottom of the bed where he had been directed.

“Why did you even bother to come find me?” Joe asked, focusing his eyes down onto the floor and away from his father.

“Because you are my son – isn’t that obvious?” Ben retorted wearing a frown on his face.

“Yeah – I’m your son – the one who you don’t know,” Joe replied bitterly.

Ben struck a familiar paternal stance with his legs spread apart and his hands planted firmly on his hips.

“Joseph Francis Cartwright!  If I wasn’t so tired from chasing your ornery hide for an entire month I’d give you the worst tanning of your life!”

Pa had gotten his son’s attention with the stance he had taken along with the sound of his voice and the threat he had made.  He shot a surprised glance up at his father.

“Who told you my full name – Hoss or Adam?”

“Who told me your name?  I named you — I guess I should know it!” Ben exclaimed as he crossed his arms over his chest and fought to hold in his amusement over the way that his son was now looking at him.

Joe stood from his position on the bed, and somewhat apprehensively, moved closer to his father.  He stared intently into Pa’s eyes.  Joe could read recognition in them and it rendered him speechless for a few minutes.

Joe’s voice quavered as he asked, “Pa?  Pa – do you know me?”

Ben finally removed the carefully crafted stern façade from his face and smiled broadly.

“Yes, Joseph – I know you,” Pa whispered and then held out his arms.

Joe’s eyes filled with tears of relief and joy as he made his way into the waiting arms of his father and held onto him.

“When – when did you remember, Pa?” Joe cried, absolutely stunned by his father’s revelation.

“About two weeks after I started searching for you, Son.  All of the memories came flooding back there was no stopping them once they began.  Everything – I remember everything, Joseph.  And I want you to know that though my accident erased you from my memory for a while — you were never erased from my heart, Son.”

“Thank God,” Joe choked out, trying to push aside his tears..

“Yes, Son thank God indeed,” Pa whispered as he held onto his youngest.

“I’m sorry I left, Pa – I just couldn’t take it – you not knowing me – everything – it just hurt too much,” Joe confessed.

Ben cleared his throat and drew in a deep breath, attempting to control the appearance of tears in his eyes and the raw emotion in his voice.  He pulled his son back a bit so he could take a good look at his boy.  “I understand, though I wish you hadn’t left like that.  I was so worried and so were your brothers!  I got that wire from Sheriff O’Brien the day after he put you in his jail.  I left right then – I rode right out the minute I knew where you were and I didn’t stop until I got here.”

“Thanks, Pa – thanks for trying to find me – even before you remembered me.”

Ben reached down and lifted his son’s chin and looked into his eyes.  “Just look at you!  You are a real mess, you know that?  I guess you didn’t try very hard to keep that promise you made to me the day that I got hurt, now did you?”

Joe grinned up at his father, shaking his head very amused.  “Same old Pa – always ready to launch right into a lecture!” Joe laughed.

Ben released his hold on his son and moved over to the water basin sitting on a table next to the bed.  He lifted the pitcher and poured water into the bowl.  Pa dropped the wash cloth down into the water and wrung it out.  He called over to his son,  “Well come on over here, Joseph, and let’s get you all fixed up!”

*** He’s calling me Joseph again – thank you, Lord! *** 

Joe knew what was coming next, it was Pa alright, the same Pa who always tended to his wounds and fussed over him more than was needed.  Easing down at the head of the bed Joe sat there as Ben took the cool cloth and dabbed at his son’s black and blue eye and then doctored his bruised chin.

“You’ve still got it, Pa,” Joe quipped, smiling from ear to ear as he watched his father fussing over his injuries and trying to make him feel better.

Ben placed the wash cloth back into the water basin and then reached a hand over to his son’s face.  Grinning, he gently pushed the curls off of Joe’s forehead.

“I owed you that one because of how I handled the whole Pete Timmons thing,” Pa smiled and winked over to his son.

His face displaying the picture of pure contentment, Joe nodded over to his father and exclaimed, “Thanks, Pa, I needed that!”

The End

Written by Wrangler

6-8-2025

This is dedicated to my mother, who I need to honor especially on this date for all she did for me.  She never knew she was giving birth to a Wrangler.

(Dedicated also to Rob my story consultant, who owns at least one line in this story.)

(This was a fictional account of a serious subject, which is very familiar to our family.  Both traumatic brain injury and Alzheimer’s disease are very devastating, and, unlike in fiction, they rarely have a happy ending.  It is my hope that someday in the not so distant future there will be a cure for both.)