Summary: When Ben is told that Little Joe is dying, they board a stagecoach and begin the race against time to save his life.

Rating T, WC 36,200

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Fifteen Minutes

I have fought a good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  (2^nd Timothy Chapter 4 Verse 7)

 

“How – how much longer did you say, Pa?  Did you say –fifteen – fifteen minutes?” Joe asked as he struggled to catch his breath and tried his best to focus on the forced calm to his father’s voice.

“Fifteen minutes, Son – just fifteen now.  Let’s do the math, shall we?” Ben sent down a smile to his son, which was also forced.  He was fighting his fear as he stared at his youngest son lying on the make-shift bed which stretched from one side of the stagecoach to the other, with the boards resting on both bench seats.

“Fifteen – you said fifteen, right?”

“Yes, now let’s pass the time by working the problem,” He coaxed.  Ben had pulled the weighted carriage lantern down some and looked once more at his gold pocket watch.

Joe’s face winced with increasing pain and tried again to stay focused on what Pa had just repeated.  “Fifteen – fifteen minutes –and I’m trying to break it down to seconds – is that right, Pa?”

“Yes, that’s right – now break it up so you can figure it out,” Ben’s voice fought the strain of the situation.  He just had to come up with some kind of a ploy to keep his son’s mind off of the fact that he couldn’t have any more medicine for a full fifteen minutes, though Pa could tell that Joe was in agony.”

“Okay, Pa — first I’ll do the ten – ten times six – that’s – well – that’s six?  No –wait one times six is six and then I add the zero – that’s — wait – I messed up.  Six times ten is – six times one is six – and then I’ve got to add the two zeros which makes it six hundred.   Is that right, Pa?” Joe asked, his thoughts muddled and his pain aggravated by the pitching of the stagecoach which was racing against time.

“Yes, so now you have the ten minutes of the fifteen.  Now what are you going to do with those five minutes?”

“Five – I’ve only got five minutes left?  I thought you said I had fifteen, Pa?”

Ben patiently tried to get Joe to refocus his attention, “Yes, Son, you’ve got fifteen minutes before you can have another injection.  Now, we are doing the math, remember?  You are trying to figure out how many seconds are in fifteen minutes.  You solved ten of those fifteen minutes already, so now you’ve got to deal with the remaining five minutes.  So how many seconds are in five minutes?”

Joe closed his eyes and fought his nausea, so sure that he was about to lose the water he had swallowed earlier.  Five minutes – times sixty seconds— I need to take five and six and add those – no multiply those I mean.  Five times six is – thirty.  Now I have to figure out what I’m doing with that – I’ve got a zero with that sixty and I guess a zero with the five so –is it three hundred, Pa?”

“Yes – so five minutes would be three hundred seconds – but you’ll have to add what you got from the ten minutes now.”

Joe closed his eyes again and bit back the pain once more.    He was trying his best not to alarm his father, though there was more than enough cause for him to be worried now.  I’ve got six hundred minutes – wait – I mean I have six hundred seconds –and now I add three hundred for those other five.  So – six hundred plus three hundred is —,”Joe trailed off.

“Is what, Joseph?”

“Is a hell of a lot of seconds, Pa,” Joe tried to smile but it turned into a grimace before he could stop it.

“How many seconds is it?”

“Six hundred and three hundred is – six plus three is nine – nine hundred seconds, Pa,” Joe whispered.

Ben smiled and nodded. “That’s right, good job.”

“Pa – that seems way too long – especially right now.”

Turning to the lantern again Pa looked at his watch and replied, “We’re down to thirteen minutes, Son.  You want to try to cipher thirteen now?”

Joe stopped short of shaking his head as the movement might make him have to reach for the pail on the floor of the stagecoach.  “You can do that one, Pa.  Or you can just give me the injection now?”

Ben shook his head and remarked, “No – remember what the surgeon said – we have to do this on schedule.  I’m not about to give you an overdose – we’re well on our way to getting you fixed up.”  Pa hoped that his optimism had come out in his tone of voice, though he was more terrified than he had ever been in his entire life.

“It’s okay, Pa – I wasn’t really asking you to do that,” Joe whispered and his eyes closed briefly.

“Joseph?” Ben called out afraid that Joe might have lapsed into a coma.

“Still with you, Pa – I’m just trying to keep from throwing up right now.  Lying down flat on my back inside this stage is the first time I’ve ever realized that I get motion sickness.  I sure am a mess, huh?”

Pa smiled and nodded, “Yes, Joe, you sure are.”

“I was just thinking about how ironic this whole thing is — you know?”

Ben’s brow furrowed, wondering if his son was beginning to talk in circles again as he had so many times in the last couple of days.  “What’s ironic, Joe?”

“You know – I’ve been thinking about the fact that I’ve been shot, stabbed, burned, had falls – well you know.  And now – to have something as stupid as a small scratch being the thing that finally takes me out would be kind of ironic.”

Pa shook his head wearily.   It hadn’t been the first time that Joseph had mentioned what he perceived to be his impending death.  “No more talk like that – now I’ve told you that you’ll get through this just like you’ve gotten through everything else.  Doc always says that of all of the many patients he’s tended you are the only medical marvel that he’s known.”

Joe’s face twisted with increasing waves of pain which wracked his body, coming in closer intervals.  “Too bad Doc isn’t here now, huh?”

Ben reached down on the floor for the large medical bag which he had been given by Doctor Mercer.  He wanted to be ready just as soon as it was time for the next injection.

“Oh I don’t think Doc will mind sitting this one out, Joe.  And I’m not doing too badly as his fill-in am I?”

Joe struggled to smile.  It was a bit feeble but he shot it over to his father to try and ease the mounting tension.  “I think you make a fine doctor, Pa.  Though you’ve got to get you a better watch – I think it’s stopped right now.  All really great doctors have watches that work.  Yours is running about thirteen minutes slow.”

Leaning forward Pa checked the time again and then looked back up at his son.  “My watch is running just fine, Young Man it’s you who’s running a bit fast.”

“How fast am I?”

Pa patted Joe’s arm and attempted his own smile, still trying to hide his fear.  “Oh you’re just about three minutes fast now.  I’m going to get the needle cleaned and ready.”

“Pa?  Pa will you please let me do it this time?”

“I most certainly will not let you do the injection!” Ben called over sternly.  “Why in the world would you even suggest something like that?”

Joe mashed his lips together tightly as he battled both pain and fear.  He had grown quite accustomed to the pain, but he couldn’t get a handle on the fear part.  He didn’t respond.

“Joseph?” Pa asked again.

“I –I just don’t want you to remember this – I don’t want you to have this as your last memory of me,” Joe whispered.

Ben stopped what he was doing and turned around to see the tears leaving his son’s eyes.  “What’s this now?  Why would you say that?” He asked and tenderly brushed his son’s tears from his cheeks.  “You know that you’re going to be fine – just fine.  We’ve made a whole lot of miles today and it won’t be long before we’ll be in San Francisco and they’ll get you all fixed up.”

“But – if I don’t –,” Joe trailed off.

“I’ll not hear of that again, Joseph.  Let’s get you out of some of that pain now.  In a few minutes you’ll breathe a lot easier – and so will I.”

Joe gave a slight nod and replied, “Sure – sure, Pa.  I’m sorry.”

Ben turned away from his son and readied to get the syringe drawn up with the pain medication.  He also used the time to push aside his own tears, well out of the sight of Joseph.  Pa knew that he had to give the appearance of confidence and strength even though he was scared to death over the fact that his son might die long before they made it to the hospital.

Kneeling down onto the stagecoach floor, Ben set the carriage lantern on the bench seat and held the glass bottle of morphine in his left hand.  Every time his eyes fell on the printed label his stomach churned.  It had been that drug which had almost cost Joe his life several years ago and now it was the only medicine available which could keep him out of pain long enough to get to the hospital in order to have the life-saving surgery.  Ben drew in a deep breath as he set the bottle down on the seat and grabbed the syringe.  He carefully prepped the needle, cleaning it with the antiseptic from the medical kit.  No matter how many times he had injected his son it was still hard to do it.  Ben couldn’t help wondering if he could once again draw the exact amount into the syringe, knowing full well that too much would kill the boy.  Slowly and meticulously Ben drew up the correct dosage and then tapped gently on the end of the needle to remove any trapped air bubbles.  He then set the syringe onto the towel next to where Joe lay awaiting the relief it would provide.

“Which arm would you like this time, Son, left or right – your choice?”

“Oh I don’t know, Pa – why don’t you surprise me?” Joe tried for some humor, since he knew how much his father dreaded having to give him the injection.

Ben smiled and nodded over at Joe.  “Okay, I’ll surprise you.  Go ahead and hand me that left arm of yours.”

Lifting his left arm as high as he could manage Joe offered it to his Pa.  Ben placed his own left arm underneath his son’s to brace it and to prevent any pitch in the stagecoach from interfering with the needle stick.

“Are you ready?” Pa asked.

“I’ve been ready for over nine hundred seconds, Pa.  Go ahead.”

Pa bit at his bottom lip as he carefully inserted the needle underneath his son’s pale skin.  He gently pushed the plunger until all of the medication was gone from the syringe.  Ben eased the needle out of his son’s arm and applied a piece of cotton over the small puncture and stared up at his son.

“Give it about three hundred seconds, Joseph, and you should start to feel a bit better,” Pa said as he slowly eased Joe’s arm back down alongside of his body.  “I’ll be right back just as soon as I clean off the syringe and get everything back inside the medical bag.”

“Thank you, Doc,” Joe nodded over to his father.

“You’re welcome,” Pa replied and patted his son’s shoulder.

***Please dear Lord, ease my boy’s pain and help us get to the hospital in time.  I know I’ve asked you to spare Joseph’s life so many times – but I am asking you once again.  Please Lord, save my boy. *** Ben prayed as he settled all the items back inside the medical bag.  He grabbed one of the three canteens and poured a drink for himself and Joe.

“Now, you drink some of this, Joseph.  Remember what Doctor Mercer said about you getting dehydrated from that morphine,” Ben lifted his son’s head and placed the cup to his lips.

Joe took a few sips, never telling his father how sick to his stomach he was feeling.  He figured that Pa had enough to worry about at the time and there was no reason to put more on his shoulders.

“You sure you’ve had enough?”

Joe nodded and dropped his head back down onto the pillow.  “Yeah, Pa, I’m good for now.  You go ahead and have a drink and then how about you leaning back and getting some shuteye?  It’s going to be four hours until the next shot and I know you’ve got to be exhausted by now.  Please try to get some sleep.”

Pa hesitated in his response as he didn’t want his son to know what he was afraid of.  Ben worried every single time that Joe shut his eyes that he would stop breathing.  “I’m fine,” Pa insisted and drank some water.

“Pa – even doctors need their sleep.  Just ease back for me – I’d rest a whole lot better if I knew you’d gotten some sleep,” Joe tried his best to coax his father.

Ben drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly.  He was, in fact, exhausted but he had been exhausted before.  He could read the concern written all over Joe’s face and he wanted to appease him.  “Okay, I’ll do it under the stipulation that you wake me if you get to feeling bad or if you need anything.”

“Hand me that pocket watch – I’ll keep the schedule this time so you’ll rest easier and not be checking the darn thing every other minute.”

“I don’t think –,” Ben began but Joe cut him off.

“Just hand me the darn thing, Pa.  I need to know that you’re okay or I won’t be able to enjoy the pain relief you just gave me.”

Reluctantly Pa relinquished his watch placing it into his son’s left hand.  “Will you be able to see it okay?”

“Pa – my body will know when I need more medicine – I don’t even need to see the watch, but I know you won’t rest easy unless someone’s looking at it.  There’s plenty of light from that lantern, I can see it okay,” Joe insisted.

“Fine,” Ben surrendered and eased down in the seat just to the right of where his son was lying.  He parked his back against the side of the stage so that he could settle his right hand onto his son’s chest and still stretch his legs out enough on the bench seat.

“Really, Pa – are you going to go to sleep like that?  What – are you worried that I’ll stop breathing or something?” Joe protested.

“A father’s prerogative, Young Man, now be quiet I’m trying to sleep,” Pa replied and closed his eyes.

Feeling the weight of Pa’s hand as it had eased onto his chest, Joe couldn’t say that he was really surprised that the man was going overboard in his gesture because it was a “Pa” type of thing which he had done.  “You’re not the least bit overly protective, are you?” Joe grinned up at his father.

“This coming from the one who spends half of his time in a sick bed healing from being shot, stabbed, burnt –,” Pa quipped until Joe stopped him.

“Okay – go ahead leave your hand there, I won’t say anything about it.  Good night, Pa,” Joe said and closed his eyes as well.  His thoughts took him back to how it had all begun and why the two of them were now racing against time to get to San Francisco for the life-saving surgery.

***What a stupid mistake – what a stupid thing not to take care of until it was too late! *** Joe thought to himself and then went back to the day it had all happened.

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It had all begun the day that my brother Hoss readied to leave on a horse buying trip to Arizona.  I mentioned to him that I’d be happy to exchange jobs with him and he laughed heartily at my suggestion.  There was no way that he was going to stay home and pull old fencing wire nor was he about to help in the task of  putting up over a mile of new wire, not when he could have a good time choosing and haggling over the cost of new mounts.  My brother liked sleeping out on the ground far more than I did and he’d get quite a few nights of that on his trip, but I still would have preferred his job to the one that my Pa had assigned to me.  He waved as he and three of the best Ponderosa wranglers rode out from the front corral.  I was just about to leave for town when I spotted my father coming out the front door with saddle bags slung over his shoulder.  My plan for escape had just been quashed as he moved over to where I stood.  Explaining that he had been informed that one of his business partners had changed their time of arrival over at Gold Hill and that he’d be leaving right away to join the man, Pa motioned over to his horse and I followed.  Pa was quick to tell me that he expected me to get the old wire taken down, put on some old wooden spools and shoved there in the tack room.  I began to protest but was met by two brown eyes which were shooting a less than subtle sign that he wasn’t about to put up with any form of insubordination by me.  I decided to bargain with him, casting my most endearing smile his way, what the heck it had worked in the past!  I told him that I had hoped to go into Carson City Friday for the horse auction.  Pa studied my face, I could tell that right away.  He was trying to see if I had the intention of ditching my duties there at the ranch and just partying in Carson City.  I changed my expression right away and let him know that I’d only be gone a day or a day and a half tops.  I noticed his frown and the stare that he shot my way.  Sometimes Pa has the ability to read my thoughts and it can be a bit unnerving.  He mounted Buck and finally cast a knowing smile over to me along with a tolerant “yes, Joseph,” to let me know that he understood that staying behind to tackle that old wire wasn’t the best job in the world.  Pa then informed me that he would, however, expect me to get the job taken care of before I planted my boots in Carson.  I dutifully nodded and assured him that I would.  I grinned up at Pa and thanked him for understanding why I needed to go check out the auction since I had hoped to wangle some decent stock and surprise my brother Hoss upon his return from Arizona.  With all of that straightened out between the two of us, Pa sent over a very familiar warning look at me and told me to be careful before he kicked at Buck’s sides and headed out of the yard.  I’d never fully understood why my father was always worried about my getting hurt unless it was because of the fact that I’d spent a good chunk of my life recovering from numerous illnesses and injuries.  Yeah but that was in the past, or so I thought.  Finally feeling like I had masterfully handled the whole conversation with my father, and gotten my way about my little trip, I then turned to get the buckboard ready to begin the arduous task of removing and storing that old wire.  I wish I had gone to Arizona.

There was a pool of sweat inside my work gloves by the time I got home that first night.  I had gotten most of the wire pulled and all that was left for the next day was to wind it up and then stow it in the tack room.  Hop Sing had fussed over me since I was the only one he had to tend to.  He had given me a portion of food that even Hoss wouldn’t have been able to handle.  I did what I could to get through about a third of it before I had to stop and tell him I needed some sleep.  I got up the following day just at daybreak intending to finish that dirty wire winding job so I could head into Carson City the next morning.  It had been a lot rougher than I thought and by the time the sun was about to set over the mountains I was getting ready to shove that last spool of the old wire next to the other seven there in the tack room.  It had happened too fast and I didn’t notice that old wire until I felt it slicing my shirt and my side.  Apparently I hadn’t tied the rope around the spool as well as I thought I had.  Once the rope gave way, the end of that old dirty wire had sprung out and just like a hot knife through butter had cut my shirt and me along with it.  I have to admit that I swore like a sailor and was very thankful that Pa wasn’t around to hear my word usage as I’d probably be tasting soap if he had, even if I am twenty-two years old.  Pa doesn’t play and he’s not too keen on swearing either.  I pulled my shirt out of my trousers and looked at the scratch that the wire had left.  I’d had far worse and it was just barely bleeding and I could hardly feel the sting of it.  I decided that I would tend to it once I went inside the house and took a bath before bed.  That was my plan at least, but by the time I fixed up that spool of wire and shoved it angrily against the others, I felt a bit played out.  Hop Sing fussed at me until there weren’t any other of his native words left to use.  I told him that I was too tired to eat and I’d just go up to my room for some shut-eye.  I promised him that I’d make up for it at breakfast only to see him waving a carving knife over at me.  By the time I made it to my room I didn’t think any more about taking a bath or anything other than crawling into my bed.  I did take the time to wash my hands and face, forgetting all about that cut which wasn’t bothering me at the time.  I wish I could live that day again, as I would have handled everything far differently.

I couldn’t believe it when I realized that I had slept until almost noon!  Now there wasn’t going to be any bath or any breakfast either.  I quickly changed my clothes and packed up a bedroll promising myself that I’d take a nice long soak once I checked into the Emporium Hotel in Carson City.  The best laid plans as they say!  Just as soon as I signed the register and the man behind the desk handed me my room key I felt a hand on my shoulder.  I turned to see the Stewart brothers, Dave and Chuck.  They insisted that we have a good old time at the Crystal Palace Saloon and catch up with what we had all been up to lately.  I tried to bow out of it, but I didn’t try hard enough I guess.  The two brothers followed me up to my room as I tossed my saddlebags onto the bed.  I’d told them I needed to get in a bath and they both laughed and said I smelled okay to them.  The next thing I knew the three of us were heading to the saloon.   We laughed, we lied, and we told such tall tales that none of us believed any of it after a while.  But, we had a grand time and a lot of beer plus a couple of shots of good old rot gut whiskey.  And it was because of all of that partying that I didn’t make it back to the hotel until almost midnight.  I felt light-headed but I thought that was because I’d only eaten a little bit of jerky on the way into town and had missed a regular meal.  The desire for a bath was now out of the question, at least until morning as the hotel staff had all gone home other than the front desk clerk.  I made it into my room and was far too tired to take off anything other than my belt and my boots.  I collapsed into that bed and just passed out cold.

The day of the big auction made its arrival without me to see it, until almost ten a.m.  I turned in the bed and wondered why there was a very unfamiliar pain in my gut.  As I lifted my head in order to view the mantle clock across the room I felt dizzy.  It was only then that I thought back to that darn scratch from the other night.  Carefully I pulled myself to standing and unbuttoned my shirt.  I examined the wound which was now beet-red and festered.  I couldn’t stand to touch it because it was so tender.  I looked at my shirt and noticed the stain which spread out a fair piece from where the cut had been resting up against it all night.  I supposed that old cut had seeped a bit and would need a doctor’s care.  How I wished I was in Virginia City!  I know that Doc Martin would’ve given me hell over the fact that I’d left that scratch go unattended for so long, but it would’ve been worth hearing him fuss if he’d fix me up.  Now I was in another town and didn’t know the local saw-bones.  There was still the cattle auction to think of, and I figured I’d just put on some clean clothes and wash my face and head out.  After it was over I’d march myself down to the doctor’s office and get tended.  Sometimes I think I have no common sense at all!

The water from the basin cooled my face and I rinsed it several times.  I didn’t know that I was running a fever and just thought that it might be a bit stuffy there in the hotel room as it had been unseasonably warm the past couple of days.  I got dressed but it seemed to take a lot longer than usual and when I had to pull my boots on I should have realized that I was in bad shape as the motion had sent hot streams of pain throughout my stomach.  The wound was only a little deeper than a scratch so I figured that it probably just had a bit of infection in it.  I’d had so many serious injuries in my life that I knew I could handle a bit of a cut.  I had no idea that rusty wire had sent bacteria coursing throughout my abdomen.  When I finally made it down to the lobby I settled for just some coffee in the little dining room there.  I had no appetite and didn’t finish my coffee as I couldn’t stomach the heat of it.  Once I was outside I helped myself to some water and took in my fill.  It wasn’t long before the Stewart brothers were greeting me and the three of us got to the town square by the start of the auction.  We talked about each horse that was brought out but all that I saw that interested me was a black stallion which would make an awesome very late or extremely early birthday present for my Pa.  Right before the bidding began I found myself looking up from the ground.  Chuck and Dave were saying something to me but I swear I couldn’t hear their voices.  I just felt like I was floating away.  Next thing I can remember is feeling my body lag as I was lifted up and then having each of my arms slung around the two men as they hurried to get me seen by a doctor.

I guess I was completely unconscious by the time they laid me down in the examining room of Doctor Matthew Lawrence.  From what Dave told me later I was a real mess.  I can still hear what had been said.

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“Darn it, Joe you scared us to death!” Chuck said and motioned for Dave to move away from the examination table.  “Go tell the doctor that he’s awake now.”

When Dave left the room Joe looked around very confused at his surroundings.

“Where am I?”

“You fell out there at the auction, Joe.  Dave and I carried you here to the doctor’s office.  We caught a sight of that wound of yours.  Why didn’t you tell us last night at the bar how bad you got hurt?” Chuck asked partly upset and partly scared for his friend.

“I – I didn’t know how bad it was until this morning.  I planned on going to the doc’s after I checked out those horses.”

“Horses aren’t as important as your life!” Chuck exclaimed.

“Sorry – I guess I made you two miss the rest of the auction,” Joe mumbled.

“Joe – didn’t you hear me?  You’re bad off – and horses we can get any time – but we don’t want to lose a friend.”

“I understand you are Joe Cartwright?” The doctor asked as he came back into the room.

“Yes, Sir,” Joe nodded, though the movement made him feel a bit woozy.

“I’m Doctor Lawrence.  Your friends here brought you in and I’ve seen that wound of yours.  How long have you had it?”

“I guess about three days, Doc,” Joe answered.

“It would appear that you didn’t tend to it at all, now did you?”

“I was planning to — I didn’t think it was very bad – until I woke up today.”

“How did you do it, Young Man?” The doctor inquired as he checked Joe’s forehead for fever and again felt his pulse.

“I was putting up some old fencing wire and I got scratched a bit.”

“Old wire – you mean used wire, is that right?” The doctor continued.

“Yeah – it was kind of dirty and a bit rusty,” Joe replied.

Doctor Lawrence shook his head and sighed.  “Well, Joe, you’ve got an extremely bad infection and it’s not something that I can tend to.  You need to be seen by someone with far more knowledge of these things than I have.  I’m going to send you over to the new Washoe Hospital.  Infections like these can be life threatening.  You should have tended to it right away.”

“Hospital – Doc is it that serious?” Chuck asked as he shot Dave a look of dread.

“Yes, this young man is going to need some extra help.  Now if you both would go to the livery stable and ask them to get my surrey over here I will carry my patient there now.  We’ve no time to waste,” Doctor Lawrence addressed Joe’s friends.

“Sure, Doc – we’ll go get it right away!” Dave said and briefly set his hand on Joe’s shoulder.  “We’ll get you all fixed up, Joe – don’t you worry!”

---

Why would I worry?  I’m Joe Cartwright, the kid who survives anything that is thrown at him!  No stupid little scratch or cut is going to hurt me!  Yeah, that’s what I thought at the time.  I was back out cold long before I was placed inside Doctor Lawrence’s surrey and didn’t come around until much later that day.  That’s when I met the surgeon, or at least the first one, who was going to try and save my life.  His name, I was told once I woke again, was Philip Mercer and he advised me that I was in very bad shape.  I figured that part out when I realized I was now laying inside of a hospital bed.  He told me that my cut had caused a severe infection and it was spreading throughout my entire stomach.  The doctor said something about bacteria and called out some words that I’d never heard before and can’t remember even now.  I told him that I was in a lot of pain and he told me that he expected it to get a whole lot worse after the surgery.  I spotted a nurse heading in with a tray and the doctor told me he was going to give me an injection to help my pain.  I told him that I could not take morphine, since I had battled through morphine addiction in the past.  It was then that he grew firm with me and advised me to listen as I was in grave danger of dying if they couldn’t perform immediate surgery.  That got my attention!  He said that only morphine would be able to control the pain both prior to surgery as well as after it was done.  I hated to think of what my Pa would say once he’d known I had taken that drug again!  I had gone through a real time with that damned stuff.  Doctor Martin had started me on it years ago to keep me alive due to a very bad burn to my back.  The treatment had gone on so long that I became addicted and had also helped myself to some of the medication from his bag when they tried to wean me off of it later.  I was a real mess back then!  But the doctor told me they had to use it, and because I really didn’t want to die, I nodded towards him and soon felt that all too familiar stick in my arm and the wooziness to my head.  At least I was out of pain for the time being.  Next thing I knew two orderlies were putting me on a stretcher and hauling me into surgery.

I heard strange sounds and wasn’t sure if I was in a dream or whether I was waking up.  I could hear whispers and the sounds of a chair scraping across the wood floor.  But when I felt fingers softly combing through my hair I knew who I’d see if I could get my eyes open.  It was Pa.  He whispered my name and then reached for my arm slowly stroking it to get me to come around.  I called up a very weak sounding hello and struggled to figure out why he looked so worried.  Pa had told me that he had been there at the hospital for a few hours and that good old Chuck had found him there in Gold Hill the night before.  It must’ve taken my father some hard riding to get there to the newly built Washoe County Hospital as fast as he had.  But, then, that was Pa – he was never one to miss one of my injuries!  I didn’t know how to tell him about the morphine it bothered me so much that I guess he could read it in my eyes.  He muttered a soft “I know, Son,” over at me and nodded his head that all was well.  That, too was Pa, always one to try to down-play a life and death situation, but then again, he’d had plenty of practice with me over the years.  The doctor came in and his face told me the real story.  I noticed Pa turning towards the man, trying his best to get him to sugar coat his prognosis.  Doctor Mercer understood, by the looks of him, as he told me that he’d done his best but I would need to be seen by a specialist.  Pa kidded me that we knew who to turn to and then he said that he’d already contacted my uncle there in San Francisco.  Pa tried to make it sound like we’d have a good old time there!  He was doing his best, God love him, as he fought back the brimming tears I noticed there in his eyes.  Pa was afraid but he didn’t want me to know.  The nurse came in with the morphine and I couldn’t bear to look at my father, there were far too many bad memories regarding my use of the stuff.  Pa noticed the way I had looked away from him, and he softly stroked my hair once more.  It was what he did to show me that he understood without having to say it out loud.  The nurse found the spot and soon I felt the needle sticking me.  I wondered how long I’d be on the morphine this time, or if that was a stupid thing to think about.  By the look on Doctor Mercer’s face I wasn’t long for the world I guess but Pa would try to fight all odds to get me tended there at good old Saint Francis Hospital where my uncle was the chief of staff.  Pa asked the doctor about the two drainage tubes that were there just to the side of my naval and how he’d care for them on the trip west.  Painstakingly the man showed Pa how to clean them and make sure that they were working.  He informed both of us to be careful that I didn’t roll on my left side or do anything which might cause the drains to pull out.  I hadn’t planned on it.  Next the doctor told Pa that he’d show him how to give me the injections of morphine.  The look on Pa’s face was priceless and I swear I almost burst out laughing!  Pa and Doc were the two who had given me injection after injection of that stuff to keep me alive and I just had to tell Doctor Mercer that my Pa was an expert at it!  Pa looked at me like he wanted to smack me good for what I had said.  It was worth it as it was the first time Pa seemed himself since I had awakened.  Doctor Mercer told Pa that he’d go over all of my care for the long trip by stage before we left in the morning.  I wondered just how in the heck Pa could have set everything up that fast!  I had tried to ask him but was met by a furrowed brow and two penetrating brown eyes which warned me to settle back and allow him to go over more instructions with my first surgeon.  I eased back some, being careful of the two drains which were now poking out of me.  I hated that I had caused the whole darn thing by not taking care of myself.  When Doctor Mercer stepped out of the room for a bit along with that pretty blonde nurse, it was hard to focus on all that was going to happen.  I reached for my father’s hand and told him just how sorry I was to make him leave his meeting over at Gold Hill to come and see me laid out in the hospital.  I also apologized for the stupid mistake of not caring for my wound, and I have to admit that I couldn’t stop crying at the time.  I hated the worry I was causing my father, he’d had more than enough due to me and my antics.  The morphine sometimes dulls your head, but I remember what happened next very vividly.  Pa made it known in no uncertain terms that he’d much rather be sitting there with me than to deal with yet another long business meeting.  He did however scold me a bit about the whole “not taking care of that old scratch” thing.  But, he smiled over at me and told me that he figured that I was due to have something happen to me as it had almost been an entire year since my last injury.  He tried to make me laugh and it had worked.  God I hate to hurt him if I don’t make it this time!

---

Joe’s left hand drifted down to his side as he carefully touched at his incision.  He had awakened to the feeling of dampness and wondered if the drainage tubes were doing their job a bit faster than they had before he had fallen to sleep. Bringing his fingers up to his face he stared at the sticky fluid.  Joe carefully moved into a slight sitting position, not totally upright on the bed but just high enough to view his wound.  He knew that there was a real problem now, or rather, the newest problem since he felt that he had caused nothing but problems for his father ever since Pa had learned about his wound and had arranged for the stagecoach which raced to get them to San Francisco.  Joe craned his neck to look up at his father and could tell that he was still slumbering.  Pa hadn’t noticed that his hand had come off of his son’s chest, which was a good thing due to the current situation.  He wasn’t about to wake the man yet as he knew that Pa had gotten very little rest for at least two days.  Joe opened the cover of Pa’s pocket watch and noted the time.  There was just a little more than an hour left before he’d need another injection.  Joe eased back on the bed and his hands felt both sides of the bed in a desperate effort to determine if there was another towel somewhere.  All he had was the original towel lying just down a bit from his injury, but it was soaked and wouldn’t be any help to cover the wound and keep it dry.  Joe could see the medical bag there on the floor of the stage but he knew that there was no way possible that he could get over to it without Pa’s assistance.  He had to resign himself to the fact that there would be no fresh towel until his father woke up.  He tried to just wait out the hour as it would afford Pa a bit more rest.  Joe knew that both drains would have to be reinserted into his wound and he dreaded both having that done to him and the knowledge that his father would have to be the one to handle the procedure.

Right before the hour was up Joe heard the sound of his father stirring there on the seat of the stagecoach apparently starting to awaken.  Carefully he reached for Pa’s right hand and repositioned it over his chest so that he’d never know that it had moved in his sleep.  Joe knew that his father was worried and he didn’t want him to realize that he hadn’t monitored him for several hours.

“Joseph?” Ben whispered as he pressed his right hand down onto his son’s chest, still so petrified that something might have happened to him once he had fallen to sleep.

“Yeah, Pa – I’m still breathing,” Joe called up to his father.

“I could tell that by the sound of your voice,” Ben quipped, trying to pretend that he hadn’t been worried.  He drew his legs down and sat up.  “What time is it?”

“It’s just about that time again,” Joe alluded to the fact that another injection was due very soon.  “Pa – I couldn’t reach that medical kit, could you hand me a towel?”

“What’s wrong?” Ben was too quick in his reply.

“Just hand me a towel will you?”

Ben stood and opened the medical bag and drew out one of the towels that Doctor Mercer had given him for the trip.  He apprehensively approached his son and handed it over to him.

Joe placed the towel over his wound and then pulled the blanket up again.  He knew what was coming next and dreaded it.  Joe couldn’t hide what was underneath the towel, no matter how much he wanted to, as his father stood there hovering over him at the time.

“Let me have a look, Joseph,” Pa whispered, and tried his best to fight his mounting fear.

“Don’t panic, Pa.  I know what’s happened – It will be okay.”

Ben pulled both the blanket and towel down carefully. It was very evident what Joseph had been trying to keep him from seeing.

“How long ago did this happen?” Pa’s tone was both fearful and urgent in his question.

“I guess it was about an hour ago.”

“Joseph, you should have awakened me just as soon as you noticed this!” Ben’s reprimand came off laced with both anger and dread.

“Pa – I knew that you’d have to somehow get these drains back in – and I also knew that I’d need some morphine before you could try to do it.  I figured as soon as it was time for the medicine we’d get to it,” Joe explained trying his best to show calm in his voice to ease his father’s mind.

Ben drew in a deep breath as he studied his son’s wound and tried to determine just how far the drains had pulled out.  “Did you try to move?”

“C’mon, Pa – if I had moved that hand of yours on my chest would have felt me doing it!  I just laid here and slept part of the time and part of the time I just listened to you snore,” Joe attempted to lighten the situation as he knew that his father was beside himself with worry.

Pa brushed his hand through the boy’s hair and shook his head.  “I’m sorry—I guess that I kind of went off on you there, Son.  Let me see my watch.”

Joe placed the pocket watch into his father’s hand.  “I told you that my body can tell time even better than that old thing.”

Ben stared down at the time and said, “You’re right.  Now, how do you want to do this?”

“I DON’T want to do this!” Joe exclaimed. “But, since we have to keep these darn things inside of me – well I guess go ahead and give me the injection and wait about five minutes.  By then I should have some relief – and hopefully won’t come off this make-shift bed when you shove those tubes back inside of me.”

Ben peered out the window and wished that it wasn’t so dark.  “I could have the driver pull over?”

Joe frowned and shook his head.  “Pa – I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Joe countered, he didn’t want to tell his father that he was feeling worse and wasn’t at all sure that he would survive the rest of the journey. He had been hoping to last for the three day trip if for no other reason than for his father’s sake.

Pa could read his son well enough to know that Joe was worried.  “Well, we have enough light in here, and the road doesn’t seem too bumpy right now.  But, it’s going to hurt, Son – even with that medication.”

“Do I have a choice?”

Ben drew in another deep breath and shook his head.  “I’ll go draw up the medicine now,” He said in reply.  Turning around Pa had to pull from all of the inner strength he had left.  He also took the time to send off a prayer for help so he could do the procedure and not cause his son more harm.   Pa had been shown how to care for the drains but he hadn’t been advised over what to do if they should pull out.  Ben carefully drew up the morphine inside the syringe and moved back to his son.

“Right arm this time, Pa,” Joe pointed.  He knew that his father was about as worked up as he’d ever seen him before and wanted to do whatever he could to help.

Ben nodded and held onto his son’s right arm and injected the medicine.  He settled Joe’s arm back down alongside of him and then turned and cleaned the needle and placed the medicine back inside the bag.

“Hey, Pa – I’ve got to tell you something,” Joe called over to his father.

Turning around Ben looked over at his son.  “What?”

“When you put those drains back in – well — I’ve got a confession to make.”

Ben’s face took on a confused expression, unsure if Joe was thinking that he was about to die and was going to confess something just in case he was right in his assumption.  “Confess what, Joseph?”

“When you shove those drains in me I’m probably going to cuss,” Joe forced a smile in order to ease his father’s burden.

Pa returned his son’s smile and laughed.  “Don’t you worry about that – because I’ll probably say a few choice words myself, Joseph!”

“Okay, Pa, I guess all we can do is to tackle these one at a time.  They have already pulled about all the way out, so maybe clean them off with the stuff you use to clean the syringe and then just go back through the holes where they were.  I’ll try my best not to move.”

Ben turned around again and searched the medical supplies and came out with the alcohol that he used on the syringe before and after each of the injections he had given Joe.  Reaching for one of the two lanterns he made sure that the candle hadn’t gotten too low.  He brought it along with the antiseptic and another towel and set everything next to his son.

“Hey will those two drivers panic if they hear me scream a bit?”

“No – I chose men with nerves of steel,” Pa answered trying to ease his son’s mind.  “They both know what’s happened to you and they also know that I’d never do anything to hurt you – intentionally that is.”

Joe’s hands clamped down on both sides of the blanket which covered him up to his waist.  He felt like he’d better hold on to something before the procedure began and it was better than nothing.

“Okay, Pa – I’m ready.  Don’t worry I can handle anything – well anything except fencing wire that is,” Joe attempted to show his father that he was okay with what he had to do.

“Alright, Joseph – here’s the first one, hang on,” Pa announced, and the very first thing he did was to douse his hands with the rubbing alcohol, trying to keep the area as germ free as he could.   Bending down a bit, he carefully pulled out the first drain.  It was so loose that it came right out into his fingers.  He looked up to make sure that Joe was doing okay.  He witnessed the boy closing his eyes and saw how he was balling up the blanket in his fists.  “I’m just cleaning it a bit, Son.  Here we go now.  I’ve got to push it in just until I can tell that it’s starting to drain.”

Joe had to fight not to scream but a gasp escaped his lips.  “Damn – Pa — that alcohol burns!” He yelled.

“I’m sorry, Joe, holler as loudly as you need to – it’s okay.”

“Is it in yet, Pa?” Joe asked through clenched teeth, still fighting the pain but beginning to lose the battle.

“Just about – just a little more,” Pa tried not to show the apprehension in his voice. Come on drain, dammit Ben thought to himself as he looked down at the first one he had cleaned and replaced.  Finally a pale yellow liquid began to seep out of the drainage tube.  “It’s doing just fine – and so are you, Son.  Just one more and then we’ll be done.”

“One more,” Joe repeated, mainly to himself.

“Here we go – last one,” Ben called down to Joe and gently eased the final drain out.   It had been lying just barely underneath the opening of the incision but was stuck on a piece of suture.  Pa was quick to clean it and then tried to get it repositioned inside of Joe’s wound.  Unfortunately the last one was harder to get back inside the incision than the first one had been.

“Pa – I’ve got to catch my breath – hold on a minute!” Joe shouted and tried not to come up off of the bed.

“Okay – just try to relax.  Take a couple of slow breaths, Son.  Do you want some water?”

“No – maybe some whiskey – you got any?” Joe tried not to show how badly he was hurting, however it was a dead giveaway since tears were inadvertently streaming down his cheeks and pooling inside the hollow of his neck.

“No – sorry didn’t think to bring any,” Ben returned, knowing what his son was trying to do by putting on another brave front.  “Are you ready for me to try again?”

“Why don’t you just let me out at the next stop and I’ll go get us some rotgut?  Wouldn’t that be a better idea?”  Joe tried his best to sound in control but he was sure that he’d pass out once his father went back to shoving the drainage tube inside of his wound.

“I’d like to, Joe – but we’re in a bit of a bind for time right now.  Now – can you stand me trying to do this last drain?”

“Nope – but go ahead, Pa,” Joe nodded.

Ben held the lantern closer to try and see what the problem was.  It appeared as though a stitch had either come loose or had shifted its position and was closing the hole where the drain had been.  He tried his best to maneuver the drain so that it went in at a slight angle but it wasn’t working no matter how hard he tried.  Witnessing Joe’s face scrunching up, and hearing how loud his horrendous cries were growing, Pa was forced to stop for a minute.  He had to wait for the pain to subside for fear of killing Joseph.  Ben felt awful for the suffering that he was causing his boy.  He wished that they could just leave the one drain in and be done with it, but Doctor Mercer had warned him that Joe needed both drains in order to try to remove some of the infection.

“Yell as loudly as you need to Joseph don’t try to hold it in!  I know this has to be smarting to say the least.  It will be okay – I’ll get this darn thing in – I’ll even let you cuss if you want to.”

“Pa – just get it in – I can’t take too much more,” Joe whimpered as he was beginning to lose what little strength he had left in his body.

With a tremendous effort Ben finally managed to push the last drainage tube inside of the incision and waited breathlessly to see if it was, in fact, working.  “That’s got it, Joe – it’s working just fine now.”

Joe let out a gasp and then pulled his hands up to his eyes attempting to push aside his tears.  Even with the full dose of morphine in him the procedure had hurt far worse than he had ever expected it to.

“I’m sorry,” Pa whispered and brushed his hand through his son’s hair to try to comfort him and ease his pain.

“Doctor Cartwright,” Joe muttered and slowly dropped his hands back down.

“You’ll never complain about Doctor Martin again now will you?”

Joe shook his head.  “You did as good a job as he could have.   I guess there’s no easy way to get those darn things back in once they pull out.  I’m sorry you had to do it, Pa.”

Ben sighed and said, “I’m sorry too.  I never wanted to hurt you like that.  Now let’s both get some water, okay?”

Joe nodded, “I guess – since we don’t have any whiskey it’ll have to do.”

“Joseph, after going through what we both just had to do, I’d like some whiskey instead of water just as much as you would!” Pa exclaimed and stood to retrieve the canteen.  When he turned back to his son he found him very still and with his eyes closed.  Ben felt for a pulse which was still there though a bit weak.  He kneeled down next to Joe and combed his fingers through the boy’s hair again, worried over his son’s condition and just how much more he could take.  Ben imagined that his son was exhausted after going through the horrendous procedure.  He double checked both drains and was relieved to find them working.  Covering Joe’s incision with a clean towel and then with the blanket Ben let out a weary sigh.  His son looked so pitiful lying there and he appeared so very pale that Pa wondered how he would ever survive the rest of the long trip.  All he could do was to pray and hope that Joe had enough strength left inside of him to last until they got to the hospital.

“Rest Son,” Ben whispered and settled down onto the floor of the stagecoach so that he could be right next to Joe.  Leaning back against the bench seat Pa thought back to all that had happened.  It had been a long two days.  Ben tried to gather himself a bit, feeling well spent after fixing the two drainage tubes.  He thought back to everything that had happened and how he came to find out that Joe was in the hospital.

---

I had just gotten out of my suit and donned my nightshirt and robe and looked forward to having one brandy and then going to bed after a long day and half of the night in business meetings when the loud banging began.  I wondered just who would be bothering me at such a late hour it was after all, eleven o’clock.  Opening the door to my hotel room I caught sight of the panic-stricken face of Chuck Stewart.  The young man, who was just a few years older than my youngest son, looked as though he was ready to fall out so I bid him inside.  I handed him my untouched brandy in order to get him to calm down enough to get out his words.  Finally he explained why he was there in Gold Hill and what had happened to Joseph.  I tried to take it all in, but I admit to making Chuck repeat himself a few times for it to register inside my mind.  Joseph was in the hospital over by Carson City?  It didn’t make any sense, no matter how many times the man had tried to explain all that he knew about the situation.  He told me about Joe’s wound and that it had gone unattended and was now in very bad condition, enough to force my son to be admitted to a hospital.  The father in me kicked in just as soon as I got over the shock of the news.  I had to go into emergency procedures Lord knows I’ve had experience with that!  But, no matter how many crises I’ve had to deal with over the years, it didn’t make them any easier, especially when one of my sons was involved.  I made Chuck sit and take in a deep breath or two while I determined what needed to be done first.  I’d never been to the Washoe County Hospital, as it was so new and fortunately neither myself nor any one of my sons had been injured anywhere near Carson City, until now.  Finally drawing from a strength which I must have gotten from my own father, I took command.  I asked Chuck to go and pay my livery bill, handing him some money which would pay for Buck along with Chuck’s mount.  I told him to bring the horse to the hotel and then I wanted him to take my room for the night as the boy seemed well spent and wouldn’t be able to make the return trip until perhaps the following day.  I let him out of my room and quickly got dressed and packed up my saddlebags.  I then hurried to the lobby and paid my bill along with any additional days that Chuck might need.  After only an hour’s time I was mounted on Buck and headed in the direction of Carson City.  Even though it was dark, I would get in as many miles as I could, even if it was only a couple.  Even if I only made it a few miles before daybreak, that would be a few miles closer to getting to my boy.

That night had been a bit of a blur, my only thoughts were of Joseph and how bad off I’d find him once I got to the hospital.  I thought about the fact that my other two sons seemed so far away, especially now.  Adam was at a class reunion all the way in Boston and there would be no possible way to get him home inside of a month.  Hoss, though he was closer in miles, he wasn’t far enough along on his trip to be anywhere near a telegraph office and wouldn’t be for at least two or three days.  That left only Hop Sing there representing our family back at the Ponderosa.  I made a mental note to make sure to send someone to put our oldest and most reliable hired hand, Fletcher, in the role of foreman until further arrangements could be made.  Once I could get a hold of Hoss I knew that I could count on him to hightail it back home and handle anything which might arise.  I wasn’t sure how long Joe might be in the hospital or if — no, I couldn’t think the worst – it was too overwhelming and I still had too many miles to go before I’d learn how he was doing.  I remember praying about every other minute that my youngest would be alright.  But, then, it WAS Joseph!  The kid always seemed to have bad luck when it came to both injuries and illnesses and I didn’t want to try and count how many times that I had almost lost him, including the night of his birth.  I tried to push those thoughts away and just focus my attention on laying eyes on Joe and how I’d somehow get him through whatever the situation was this time.  At that moment I felt a rush of adrenalin which even my horse felt as Buck picked up the pace.   I kept repeating in my head ***Hang on, Joseph, I’m coming! ***

I had only stopped long enough to water my horse and to take a few sips from my canteen and my heart leapt in my chest when I came to a sign which said “Carson City two miles”.  I knew where the hospital was located simply because my son, Adam, had helped to design it along with two local architects.  It wasn’t as fancy as the Saint Francis Hospital in San Francisco, but it was badly needed in the area and though it appeared small in comparison, would serve its purpose.  I found an attendant who was willing to stable my horse and point the admission’s office out to me.  I jogged up the stairs and tried not to run inside the building.  I also fought my urge to simply shout out “Joseph!” as I crossed the threshold.  I hurried to the front desk and the middle aged woman nodded that my son was listed as a patient.  She told me to have a seat but I just stood, not because I had been in the saddle for just under ten hours, but because I wanted to get to Joe as soon as his room was pointed out to me.  It seemed like an hour, but was only a few minutes later that the woman was back along with a man, who I assumed was a doctor by what he was wearing.  He walked over to me, shook my hand and introduced himself.  It was Joseph’s surgeon.  Doctor Philip Mercer advised me to come into his office before I went off to my son’s hospital room and I took that to mean bad news was forthcoming.  Everyone wanted me to sit down that day!  I had to force myself down into the chair and listened intently to what the doctor had to say.  I was told about the massive infection which had set up underneath Joe’s wound and how Doctor Mercer had tried his very best to get most of it removed.  Then he gave me the news that no parent ever wants to hear.  He used the word GRIM.  I didn’t need to hear that and I was already considering a second opinion as I would never accept losing a son, any one of them!  And this was Joseph!  My boy had fought back from the worst ailments and injuries in his short life and there was just no way possible that he couldn’t make it through any type of infection.  Or so I prayed.  Doctor Mercer had to go over everything he had just told me as he could see that I wasn’t taking the news well.  I was told that, though he had removed a lot of the infection, it still appeared to be spreading throughout the entire area underneath the incision.  I brought up the surgeons there at Saint Francis Hospital and asked if I could get Joseph there if they could save him.  Doctor Mercer said that there was always a chance however, he wasn’t sure that Joe could survive that type of a trip especially in his weakened condition after surgery.  He didn’t want to sound like there was no hope, or so he told me, but he just didn’t want me to be unprepared in the event of Joseph’s death.  I didn’t want to hear those words together in any sentence ever!  I had made the decision on the spot that I’d take the chance and get my son to the hospital where his uncle was chief of staff and pray that he would hold up for the three days it would take to get there.  Then Doctor Mercer told me the news that they had to give my son morphine due to the pain.  I felt like I was going to faint.  Too much bad news all at once and still I hadn’t laid eyes on my son.  Joseph, I was told, had protested being put back on that drug, but the doctor had to advise him that it was the only way to ease his pain which would only increase now.  I knew the boy, and I knew he’d feel bad to have to take the morphine no matter why it had been prescribed.  I’d be sure to let my son know that it was okay and he hadn’t done anything wrong by making that decision, as I would have made the same one if I’d had been with him at the time.  But, now there was something much more important than anything and that was Joseph himself.  I needed to see him, to touch him and to make sure that he knew that his Pa was alongside of him!  Only then would I be able to pretend or hope or whatever else was needed from me, that he would survive this.  The doctor softened a bit when he saw what was in my eyes and all over my face, I suppose he could tell how much I loved my son.  He offered to help me in any possible way and I told him that I’d take him up on that as I had so many wires to get off and would have to start making arrangements right away.  Doctor Mercer told me that he’d get me everything I needed to write those up and he would personally make sure that they were sent out immediately.  I told him I would begin just as soon as I saw my boy.  He had nodded, knowing that I couldn’t even begin my mission without seeing that Joseph was still alive and to be able to let him know that his Pa was there with him.

How many times had I looked down at my youngest laying in a sick bed fighting for his life?  I wasn’t sure anymore.  I only knew that if I was there next to him that he’d somehow know and try to come back.  I moved closer to him and bent down and kissed his forehead.  It seemed hot to me and I fought the dread that I’d felt ever since listening to Doctor Mercer’s prognosis.  I ran my hand through my son’s curls and closed my eyes to pray yet again.  I witnessed Joe trying to move a bit and then he settled down.   It was as if he knew that his Pa had him now.  Maybe he did?  I then moved to the table and chair and reached for the pen and paper that the doctor had brought in for me.  I needed to begin with the regional manager for the Overland Stage Company, who fortunately, I had come to know several years ago.  I title the telegram as I would all of the others URGENT!.  I put in my rather bold but sincere request for a private stagecoach and two drivers to spell each other during the three day trip.  I let Jim Griffin, the regional manager, know that this would be a life-saving mission and it would require the stage to be fitted for a make-shift bed, several carriage lanterns and the best teams of horses that they had in their possession.  I wrote that I needed them by the earliest possible time the following day or my son might not live.  I prayed that Jim wouldn’t fail me and he’d know that I wouldn’t ask for this type of a favor unless it was a life or death situation.  After that one was written and sent, I composed wires to my other sons.  The first was to Hoss, who wouldn’t get it for another couple of days, but once he had made it to his first hotel in Arizona he’d find my note to get home, leave the wranglers with the stock and take charge of the Ponderosa.  I told him I’d send word once Joe and I made it to San Francisco.  I hated to have to tell Hoss how dire the situation was with his little brother, but he needed to know.  I ended it with four words Love, Pa, please pray! Next I wrote a quick wire to Adam, though I knew that he couldn’t get home in time, however it was his little brother, and he needed to know.  I ended his telegram with those same four words.  Lastly I wrote the wire out to Doctor Harold Peele, Joe’s uncle and chief of staff at the hospital there in San Francisco.  I told him what Doctor Mercer had said and what my plans were for getting Joe there.  I knew I’d have a response from Harold by the following morning long before Joseph and I would leave.  I could count on him.

The nurse came inside the room and I watched her give Joseph an injection.  I tried not to think of the fact that it was now morphine coursing through Joe’s veins again.  Instead, I decided to think about the fact that it would help keep my son out of pain for the time being and left it at that.  I tried to nap in the chair as I waited for Joseph to awaken, but I couldn’t as my thoughts were racing.  I had paid a local young man to take a message to the Ponderosa which would advise Fletcher about the whole situation and put him in charge until Hoss made it home.  I also asked that he tell Hop Sing to pack two bags, one for Joe and one for me as we’d need some things for our trip.  I knew Hop Sing would choose well.  The rider promised to get back to Carson by early the next morning.  After that I simply sat part of the time and stood over Joe’s bed the other half.

I heard the soft “hello Pa” coming from my boy as I ran my fingers through his hair and then stroked his arm trying to coax him back to me.  Joe looked so weak and sickly that I was wondering if I could pretend that I wasn’t terrified over the chance that I might lose him.  I did the best I could as he slowly looked around the room and then focused in on me with those hazel eyes; his mother’s eyes.  I had lost his mother, Marie, but I was not going to lose our son!   I had to assure Joseph that I knew all about the morphine, and let him know that it was just fine and for him not to worry about it.  He apologized over and over again about not getting his wound tended.  Then he began to cry and for about a minute I darn well cried along with the kid.  But, I had to be the strong one, he needed that from me.  I tried to joke with him that I expected something like that as he hadn’t been sick or hurt all year.  That had made him laugh which was the brightest part of the whole miserable day.  I let him know we were going to see his uncle and that everything would be just fine.  It has to be!  He did ramble on a few times, like he was talking out of his head.  I’d just listen and smile until he re-focused and grew alert again.  I supposed it was the medicine or what they had used to knock him out during surgery.  My poor boy, why has his life been this hard?  I drew from my faith, I held onto that like a weapon against the oncoming attack of that darn infection.  I didn’t know how Joseph could beat it, but if anyone could it would be my youngest.  I had to turn my attention back on the situation at hand as a nurse brought in the first of the responses to my wires.  Jim had come through!  There was a stage heading into Carson City with the two most seasoned drivers the Overland Stage had.  They were even bringing the materials needed to fashion the bed for Joseph.  Jim said they’d have teams of horses at the ready at every way station from Carson to San Francisco to speed up the exchanges and every single person along the way would be wired with the urgency of this stage getting through as fast as possible.  I turned out of Joe’s room for just a minute.  He didn’t need to see his Pa crying.  Thank God for friends!

I had taken the time to go over Joseph’s care with Doctor Mercer.  He had come into Joe’s room late that evening and had told Joe that he had done his best.  I wasn’t too sure whether the boy realized how bad off he was, but if he did know then he tried to pretend that he was just fine for my sake.  After a quick course on how to tend Joe’s wound, including the two drains that they had to put inside of him, I felt that there was hope.  There had to be.  Doctor Peele had wired just as soon as he had gotten my message and said that a team of surgeons would be placed on standby for Joseph’s arrival.  God love him, Harold had come through every single time no matter what!  I had to coax Joe to drink and to try to eat just a bit to gather a little strength for the trip ahead.  I know he didn’t feel well but he tried his best.  I couldn’t be prouder of him.   I hope that I’ve told him that enough?  If not, I’ll be sure to tell him that in the days ahead.  No, I’ll tell him in the years ahead.  He’s going to pull through somehow.  It is Joseph after all.

---

Ben felt the warmth of sun on his face as he started to come around again.  He had dozed off and on and was glad to see that the first day and night of the trip was over.  ***Two more to go, thank God the boy has made it this far *** He thought to himself and then stared over at Joe only to see the hazel eyes looking over at him.

“How are you feeling, Joseph?” Pa asked as he got to his knees and stared down at his son.

“I’m hanging in there, Pa,” He said giving a slight smile to try to reassure his father.

“Guess I dozed off again, I should have been giving you some water as you went out on me before I could give you any.  Hold on a second and let me get you some,”

Ben turned for the cup and canteen and hurriedly poured the water and brought it over to Joe.  He gently lifted his son’s head and watched as the boy took a couple of sips.

“I’m good,” Joe nodded.

“No you need to drink more, Son.  Now please try to get down a bit more for me.”

“I’m still a bit motion sick, Pa.  I don’t think I can drink too much more.”

“Just a bit more, Joe,” Ben coaxed and his son obliged, getting down at least a few more sips before waving the cup away.

“Do you know where we are, Pa?”

Ben moved to one of the windows and peered out.  The landscape looked much as it had right before dark the previous day.  “I’m not exactly sure, Son.  I’m going up to ask the drivers.  I’ll be right back.

Joe watched as his father climbed out through the window opposite from where the bed blocked the exit.  He had to grin to see Pa doing something like that.  When he wanted to, Ben Cartwright could be very agile.

A few minutes later Pa was back inside and he was smiling.  “We’re making very good time and we’re just about ready for another way station and they’ll be changing out this team for a fresh one.  Both of those drivers took turns getting some rest so they said they’re doing fine.

“Good,” Joe nodded over to his father.  “I need to get up for a bit.”

Ben cast a very concerned look down towards his son.  “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Joseph.  I’m worried that those drains will pull out.”

“Pa – I’ve taken in a lot of water over the last ten or so hours, even more than you think since I was able to get that canteen you left next to this bed while you were sleeping.  I’m gonna hit the privy just as soon as we get to the station.”

“Well you don’t exactly have to get up for that.  I told you that Doctor Mercer gave me something you can use.”

Joe shook his head adamantly and replied firmly.  “Nothing doing, Pa, I want to get upright for a bit, it might help with the motion sickness and also help me get some circulation to my body after lying down on my back for so long.”

Ben shook his head and wondered if his son was telling him the entire truth at the time.  Joe was as weak as a newborn kitten and Pa didn’t think he had the strength to stand let alone walk.

“Now Joseph –,” Ben began but was cut off.

“Now Pa – come on I’ve got to do this,” Joe insisted and stared up into his father’s eyes.

Letting out a deep sigh Pa countered his son, “You’ll have to postpone your injection a bit if we do that as the men said we will be pulling up in a few minutes and your shot is due right about now.”

“I can handle that,” Joe nodded.  “Pa – listen I’ve got to do some of this on my own and that includes going to the water closet all by myself.”

Pa smiled and patted his son’s arm and returned, “Joseph, have I ever told you that you have always been a stubborn child?”

Joe couldn’t laugh as it hurt his gut too much but he did place his hand on top of his father’s and smiled.  “Yes, Sir – and no matter what I’m sure that’s how you’ll always remember me.”

Ben had heard the words, “that’s how you’ll always remember me” and it got to him a bit.  Joe seemed to be putting himself in the past tense a lot and it hit him hard to even think of his son not surviving.  He fought to make a correction to what Joe had said.

“You will be a stubborn child even when you are ninety,” Pa smiled over at Joe to let him know that he would survive.

“Yeah, yeah I know – I’ll be ninety and you’ll be there to tell me I’m stubborn I’m quite sure,” Joe attempted to ease his father’s mind.  If Pa wanted to pretend that he was going to survive the trip along with all that would happen at the hospital in San Francisco Joe would play along.  He didn’t believe that was going to be the case, but Joe was fighting with everything he had left inside of him to, at the very least, make it to the hospital where Pa would have Doctor Peele there to comfort him.  He was terrified to think of Pa having to go on the rest of the way with his son’s body lying dead inside of the stagecoach.

Both Cartwrights heard the shouts of the two drivers as they announced that they were getting ready to pull into the way station to grab some food and have the team of horses changed out.

“Looks like that’s our stop, Pa, hope we can grab that bottle of whiskey while we’re there!”

“I just bet you do, Joseph!  But the chance I’m going to let you get to it on top of that morphine is very slim,” Pa smiled and patted his son’s shoulder.

---

There were two men who greeted the stage once it pulled into the way station.  They hurried to set the wooden step down in order for the passengers to disembark.  Both drivers hopped down from their perch and also made their way to assist Ben Cartwright in whatever he needed.

“Thank you,” Ben called as he stepped down and looked over to the four men.  “My son wants to try to get out briefly.  I’m going to need some help – the boy is very weak but he wants to give it a try.”

“We’ve heard all about it.  You must be Ben Cartwright,” One of the two men who had come out of the way station said and reached to shake Pa’s hand.  “Everyone all the way down the line knows how important it is to get you both back on the road as quickly as possible.  We’ve got food for all of you all ready and we’ll go hook up the new team just as soon as you’re both out of there.”

“I’m very appreciative,” Pa nodded and then turned to the two drivers.  “You both go and grab some grub.  I think the three of us here can get Joe out.”

Both drivers nodded and walked over towards the station in order to freshen up and get some badly needed food.

“The name’s Pete and this is Cleve,” The first man who had greeted Ben made the introductions and they all shook hands.

“Glad to meet you – and I thank you for all the help.  If one of you will just assist me with the boy – we’ve got to be careful with him as he has two drainage tubes there in his stomach.”

“I can do it,” Joe’s defiant voice sang out from inside the stage.

Ben shook his head and grinned.  “You’d never know how sick my son was to hear his protests!”  Pa turned back inside the stage.

Ben stared down at his son.  Frowning, he shook his head in defeat.  There wasn’t much point in trying to talk sense into Joe, as he could already read it on his face that he was going to sit up and get out of the stage no matter what.

“Joseph, I swear if you pull out those drains – hurt or not – twenty-two years old or not – when you get well I’ll give you a tanning!”

His father’s statement had made Joe smile as he knew that it was a threat with no teeth to it.  “Yes, Pa,” Joe called up to him dutifully.  “I’ll be careful.  Just kind of help me up just a bit.”

Ben gently helped his son to standing and buttoned Joe’s shirt to cover his wound.  Being cognizant as to the placement of his hands around Joe’s waist they walked the couple of steps over to the stagecoach door.  “Now I want you to take this slow, Son.  I’ve got two men out there to help you so let them!”

“Yes, Pa,” Joe once again tried to sound like he was obediently going along with everything that his father was telling him to do.  And though it hurt like absolute Hell, Joe wasn’t going to let his father see the pain on his face if he could help it.

“Watch that wound!” Ben called down to the men as Joe appeared there at the stage door.

Joe was carefully eased down into the two men’s outstretched arms.  They helped get the sickly young man safely down to the ground and Pa was soon standing right next to him.

“Thank you,” Joe nodded to both men and then asked, “I’d sure like to use the water closet if one of you will point the way?”

“We’ve got one just inside,” The one who had introduced himself by the name of Pete replied.

“It’s inside?” Joe questioned, very surprised.

Pete laughed over the funny expression that the injured young man wore on his face.  “We’ve got several way stations here in California that have gone through some upgrades.  What we’ve got in there is basically a fancy outhouse which is on the inside.  It does have a nice basin, clean water and towels.  Here follow me while Cleve takes this team and gets the new horses in their harnesses and leads.”

“This I have to see,” Pa smiled and carefully helped his son move over to the building.

It wasn’t long before both Cartwrights were inside the way station and were pointed over to the water closet.  Ben opened the door and for a moment acted as though he was going to follow his son inside.

“Pa,” Joe paused and shot up his left hand in protest.  “I’m not going to fall in.  Why don’t you go over there and get some coffee.  I won’t be long.”

“Joseph —,” Ben began but was cut off.

“Pa – I’m not five years old.  Now give me a few minutes to get cleaned up.  I’ll sing out if I have any problems.”

Ben nodded but threw in, “If those drains pull out –,”

Joe cut his father off once more, “I know I know, you’ll give me a tanning – got it.  Now go get some coffee!” Grinning up at his father he turned for the door.

Joe walked inside the small room and Pa fought the urge to just stand outside of the water closet.  But he figured that his son was going to try to clean up a bit and the boy could use some time where he wasn’t lying flat on his back.  He presumed it might help with Joe’s spirits as well.  Pa headed towards the smell of fresh coffee.  He knew that he could sure use it!

After he had used the facilities, Joe washed his face and hands and then stared up at the mirror which hung just above the water basin.

Dear Lord I look like a dead man already! *** Joe thought to himself staring at his reflection.  He then pulled his shirt up and looked down at his incision.  He was glad to see that the drains were still in the proper position and hadn’t budged.  Not that he thought his father would make good with his threats, but Joe worried that Pa wouldn’t be able to handle putting the drains back in.   He settled his shirt back down and again thought to himself How the heck am I ever going to make it two more days?  I feel like my body is done for already.  Please God – please help me.  I can’t die – not until I get to San Francisco.  Please – for my father’s sake help me to last that long.  It would hurt Pa more than he could bear it — if I died and he had to go the rest of the way by himself *** Joe fought back tears and re-washed his face.  He just had to force the appearance that all was well once he stepped outside.  There was no way that he wanted to worry Pa more now.

When he was able to walk out of the water closet he looked across the room and Joe could see his father downing some badly needed coffee there at the small counter.  He forced a smile and started walking gingerly towards him.  Pa was quick to set down his cup and hurry over to the boy.

“I’m fine, Pa.  Why don’t you go in there,” Joe paused and pointed to the room he had just left.  “We’ve got a long trip ahead.”

“Would you like some coffee?” Pa asked.

“I’m good for now.  I’ll just go sit there by that counter.  Go ahead while you can, I’m sure the stage will be leaving soon.”

Pa nodded, “I’ll go in there for a minute.  Now just be careful.”

“I know I know – go on,” Joe smiled and walked over to the counter and eased down into a chair.

Ben was quick to use the facilities and wash off a bit and then came back into the main room.  He joined Joe at the counter and a woman there, who had introduced herself by the name of Kate earlier, handed Pa two brown paper sacks with food for them.

“All set!” Cleve called to Ben as he walked inside the station.  “We’ll help you get your son into the stage so you can be on your way.”

“I can’t thank you all enough!” Ben called to the two men and the woman at the counter.  “Please wire Jim with my thanks.  I’ll be in his debt – and to all of you – for the rest of my life.”

“Jim said to tell you he’ll be waiting to hear how your boy does, Mister Cartwright,” Pete said and then led the two men out of the station.

In just under five minutes the Cartwrights and the two drivers were back on the stage and it hurriedly left the way station.  Pa eased Joe back down onto the bed and unbuttoned his shirt to inspect the incision and the two drains.  He once again laid a fresh towel on his son’s stomach just below the wound in order to catch any of the fluid which might leak out of the tubes.

“Well?” Joe asked looking up at his father.

Pa fought back a grin and finally said, “Okay, I guess you don’t have a tanning in your future after all.  Those drains stayed in place, thank goodness.”

“Good, I wasn’t looking forward to a tanning as I think my body has had enough pain to last a lifetime,” Joe nodded and eased back on the pillow.

“Speaking of pain, it’s time for your medicine,” Pa responded and readied the morphine.

Joe watched as his father drew up the injection and was soon over to him.  He handed over his left arm and it didn’t take long before the pain was easing up a bit.

“Pa – why don’t we both try to get a little rest, huh?”

“Not until you eat a bit.  They made us some sandwiches.  You’ve got to get your strength up,” Pa insisted and opened one of the brown paper sacks.  He pulled out a sandwich and handed it over to Joe.

“Pa – I’m not exactly hungry.”

“That’s because of the medicine and you know it.  Now, Young Man, you go on and force yourself to eat some of that,” Pa replied adamantly.

Joe reluctantly obeyed and ate what he could, finally choking down about half of the sandwich before handing the rest of it back to his father.  He knew that Pa was right about the morphine as he had remembered how it used to prevent him from wanting food.  That was just one of the bad side effects of the drug.  But Joe was also not feeling well and that, too, quelled his appetite.  “That’s all I can manage right now, Pa.  Sorry.”

Ben rewrapped the other half and placed it back inside the bag.  “Well, maybe after you get some sleep you’ll be hungry?  You go ahead and close those eyes.  You pushed yourself a bit harder than you should have and you’ve got to rest, Joseph.”

Joe closed his eyes and fell to sleep after only a few minutes.  Ben covered his son’s wound with the towel and then pulled the blanket up to the boy’s shoulders.  He opened his pocket watch and stared down at the time.

*** One and a half days done – just a little over one and a half days left to get you to the hospital *** Pa thought to himself.  He couldn’t help noticing how Joe looked a bit worse than he had before they had gone inside the way station.  *** Don’t borrow trouble, Ben.  We’ll get there – he’s going to make it *** His thoughts continued to haunt him.  Pa wondered if they would make it there in time to save Joe’s life.  He had to keep praying and he would, even if that meant mile by mile, he’d pray until his son was inside St. Francis Hospital and in the care of Doctor Peele.  Ben eased down onto the bench seat and opened his brown paper bag.  He wasn’t very hungry either, but he knew that he had to stay strong for his son, and so he would eat.  “Hang in there, Son,” Ben whispered and watched as Joe slumbered on.

---

The hopefulness which Ben had felt when he had watched his son walking to and from the way station had left him as he realized that the boy wasn’t waking up.  Joe had always come around close to the time when his injection was due.  But, that hadn’t happened.  Ben knew that he had to keep his son’s medicine going around the clock but he would’ve felt a lot better if the boy had been awake and alert.  When he had called Joe’s name and had gotten no response he tried his best to comb his fingers through the damp curls and also rub his arm a bit in order to try and rouse him.  Neither had worked.  Fighting through his worry, Ben drew up the morphine and injected his son’s arm.  Then he tried once more and still hadn’t gotten a response of any kind.  Pa worried that Joe might have lapsed into a coma and he felt his stomach knot up.  *** Please, Lord, please don’t let me lose him.  He’s been asleep the whole time since he ate and that was over twelve hours ago *** Ben said another prayer and tried again to bring Joe around.  He had even lifted the cup of water to the boy’s lips and there still was no response.  Ben lightly slapped Joe’s left cheek and that hadn’t had any effect either.

Ben sat back on the seat and wondered if Joe had simply played out and that his son had lost all of his remaining strength.  Pa thought that it was his fault by allowing Joe to go into the way station.  He felt like he should have been firm with his son and put his foot down about him getting up and taxing his weakened body.

“Pa?” Joe called barely audible.

Ben was quick to move over to the boy and dropped his hand down onto the side of his face.  “It’s about time you came around, Young Man,” Pa said and attempted a smile.

“How long – how long have I been out?”

“Just long enough to give me a good scare, Joseph.  It’s after ten at night and we got back on here around nine a.m.  I’ve already given you two injections and you never stirred.  Here have some water,” Ben pulled the canteen up and poured a cup of water and raised it to the boy’s lips.

Joe drank what he could as his eyes scanned the interior of the stagecoach.  He could see the two carriage lamps and then looked up into his father’s careworn face.  “I’m sorry, Pa.”

Ben set the cup down and knelt next to Joe.  “You just did too much today, Joseph.  Next way station you’re not going in and if you need to use the privy well you’re going to use what Doctor Mercer sent along so you won’t have to get up to do it.  He never wanted you to move around.  From now on you’re not going to take any more chances.”

Joe scrunched up his face and drew in a deep breath.  “Pa?  I need to sit up.  I think I’ll be sick if I don’t.”

“Joe –,”

Joe cut his father off and said, “Pa, it’s better that you let me sit up because if I end up throwing up I might dislodge these drains.  I just want to sit up with you for just a bit.  I need to.”

Pa didn’t know what to do about the situation.  Joe did have a point because if he were to get sick to his stomach it might tense up his stomach muscles and that might very well push on those drains.

“Alright, Son – but just for a little while,” Pa nodded.  “Now let’s take this slowly.  I’ll help ease you up to a seated position first.”

Joe allowed his father to pull him up and assist him to swing his legs over to the side of the bed.  He then put one arm around Pa’s shoulder and he pulled him up and then eased him over to the bench seat.  Joe leaned against the back rest and tried to catch his breath.

Neither of the two Cartwrights spoke for several minutes.  Joe was trying to get his bearings and Pa was caught up in his worry.

“Pa?  Do you see any stars out there?” Joe whispered.

Ben looked at his son and wondered if he was talking out of his head. When he didn’t reply Joe continued.

“Out there!” Joe pointed to the window closest to his father.  “Do you see any?’

Pa moved down the seat and stared out of the window to appease his son.

“Oh – I can see a few of them up there, Joe.  Why?” Ben asked and then moved back over to sit next to his son.

“I heard a long time ago that there is a star in heaven for every single person who has died.  I wonder if that’s true, Pa?”

Ben wasn’t pleased over the way that the conversation was heading.   “I don’t particularly think that’s true, Son.”

Joe stared over at his father and could read the fear in his eyes.  He decided to change the subject a bit.  “Hey, Pa – when you were a clipper captain and you were way out at sea – what did the stars look like?  I mean did they look closer than they do on land?”

Pa decided that there must be a reason why Joe was asking about his sailing days so he tried to appease him.  “Oh yes, they seemed, at times, like you could just reach up and touch them.”

“Must’ve been pretty peaceful out in the middle of the ocean, huh Pa?  I bet you liked that, right?”

“Well – yes and no.  There were times when it was very peaceful and I enjoyed the quiet of it, but sometimes I found it to be a bit lonely out there in the middle of the ocean so far away from land.  It always reminded me of an old fisherman’s prayer that I used to quote.  One line in it is “O God, thy sea is so great and my boat is so small”.  No matter how big a clipper ship is, the sea is so much larger.  I’ve felt like that during this trip of ours, Son.  We’re in this small stagecoach compared to the length of miles that we’ve traveled trying to get to the hospital.  But, whether on the sea or here on dry land, putting your trust in the Almighty is the best thing you can do.”  Ben paused as he watched his son ponder on all that he had just told him.  He worried that he had gotten a bit deep in his reply, so Pa went back to the original topic.  “Now — what were you getting at about the stars, Joseph?”

“You used the stars to find where you were, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Ben nodded.  “But when a storm came up we lost the stars and it was a bit rough.  Why are you asking all of these questions about the sea, Joseph?”

Joe leaned over so that he could rest his head on his father’s shoulder.  He needed the closeness at the time.  Joe couldn’t help feeling as though he didn’t have long to live and he had a life time of things that he wanted to ask his Pa.  “I don’t know – I mean you’ve told us all about your days at sea but I just kind of wanted to hear it again.”

Ben draped his arm over Joe’s shoulder and sighed, he knew what his son was doing.  “You know I’ve been through quite a few storms, Son, both out at sea and here on dry land.  But, with God’s help I got through them all – even the worst ones.  Sometimes life is like that too.  You hit a storm along the way and you don’t think you’re going to make it, but somehow you do.”

Joe stared over at his father and replied, “I’ve had a lot of storms, Pa.  But – well – maybe this time I’ve pressed my luck too far and now it’s time to face facts — I may not get through this gale.”

“Joseph I will NOT hear that.  And I don’t want you to think it either!” Pa insisted.

Joe looked down at the floor of the stage and tried his best to change the subject.  He knew that he had upset his father again, and didn’t want to do that.

“Hey, Pa – remember that time I got in trouble at school?”

Pa realized that Joe had decided not to dwell on his condition and he was very pleased that he had gone onto something else.  “Now, Joseph, you are going to have to get much more specific.  We both know you got into trouble ALL of the time!” Pa grinned.

“Yeah – yeah guess I did,” Joe nodded and fought to smile.  “I was talking about that time I got in a big fight with some other boys.  I had told them that my Pa was a clipper captain and they all said I was fibbing.  They said a rancher couldn’t be a clipper captain.  I laid into them good and got into a big fracas.  The teacher got mad and she sent a letter home for you.  You got on me good too!”

Ben laughed and patted his son’s shoulder.  “Oh yes, I remember that one!  Though you were in the right, in that you hadn’t lied but you had been told not to fight in school.”

“Yeah – I remember you made me write an apology after giving me a lecture.”

“You were lucky that’s all you got,” Ben laughed.

“You know what I remember best about that?”

“What, Joe?”

“Well, I was mad when I went back to school and I was angry that I had to apologize and those boys got off with what they had said.  I was feeling pretty awful at the time.  Then a couple of days later, right before school got out you surprised me when you came to pick me up,” Joe paused and stared into his father’s eyes and grinned.  “I looked up from my seat there next to those guys and in you walked and you were wearing your ship’s captain uniform, cap and all!”

Ben laughed and nodded, he had remembered the whole event.

“Pa – the teacher had you come to the front of the class and she asked you to tell all of the students what it was like in your sailing days.  By the time school was dismissed those boys slunk out of there lower than a snail.  You never told me you were coming and had played it off all week how mad you were at me.  But there you were dressed up in that uniform and I waited until everyone left.  Then you looked at me like you were still mad.  You really had me going – and then you broke out smiling and came over and gave me a big hug.  We walked out of there and I never felt so happy.  You were a great Pa.”

“Were?” Ben asked, raising his eyebrows in gesture.

“You know what I mean — to a little kid – well there just was no greater Pa in the world.  And no matter what happens — I just want you to know that I’ve been the luckiest son in the world to have had a father like you,” Joe confessed, wanting his father to know how much he was loved.

Ben felt a mix of emotions at the time.  Though he was happy to know how his son felt about him, Joe’s statement about “no matter what happens” had sounded like some sort of goodbye as well.

“Joseph, I intend on being your Pa for a very long time,” Ben countered.

“But if –,”

Ben cut Joe off once again.  “No, no if’s, Joseph,” Ben stopped and turned Joe’s face so that he could stare straight into his eyes.  “You’re going to be fine.”

Joe closed his eyes and rested his head again on Pa’s shoulder.  He didn’t have the words to tell his father at the time.  Joe had wanted to ease his mind by letting him know that if things went wrong that he had been lucky to have him for a father and that he had no regrets.

Pa gently stroked the curls on his son’s head and closed his eyes.  The two of them sat that way without any further words spoken between them for a long while.

“Let’s get you back into bed, Joseph,” Pa finally said when he could feel the heat from his son’s forehead increasing.

“Okay, Pa,” Joe nodded and allowed his father to get him back down into the bed.  Joe passed out cold within a few minutes.

Ben stared down at his youngest, a deep knot forming in his throat.  How many times had Joseph tried to tell him goodbye on this trip?  Pa was so frightened and even though the stage was progressing very fast, he was beside himself with worry that they wouldn’t get to the hospital in time to save the boy.  He couldn’t imagine a life without Joseph.  Pa reached down and felt Joe’s forehead and it was hot.  He turned and placed some water from the canteen onto a towel and placed it on his son’s forehead.  Then Ben went down to his knees.  He had done all he could so it was time to once again turn all of his worries over to God.

---

The last full day and night of the trip began.  Joe had hardly moved all night and all of his injections had been done while he was asleep.  Ben was able to get a little water down his son’s throat but even that had been a struggle.  There were three way stations and all had come and gone without Joe waking up.  Ben had one of the drivers watch Joe so that he could run in and out of each of the stations to use the privy and gather some food.  He was also able to send a couple of wires, one being to Jim Griffin, with the Overland Stage Line, thanking him for all of the help and letting him know how well he had been treated along the way to San Francisco. He informed him that he’d be sure to let him know how the boy did once surgery was done.  He then wired Doctor Paul Martin to tell him the current situation and to ask that he inform Hop Sing and also Hoss when he had gotten home.  He knew that Paul would do those things and that he would also want to know how his favorite patient was doing.  Ben had gotten right back into the stage and the drivers sent it quickly into motion.  Even those two men, who had been strangers before the trip started, had now become friends with Ben and were up in the driver’s seat, both of them praying for the boy inside the stage.

Joseph wasn’t doing well and his father was terrified that he wouldn’t make it the rest of the way.  He had slept pretty much the whole previous night and during the day had only come around long enough to simply call out an extremely weak sounding “Pa” and then went right back under.  Ben had taken the rubbing alcohol and swabbed Joe’s body down with it, hoping that it would help with the boy’s rising fever.  He had checked the drains and though they were still securely in place, they weren’t draining much infection out of the wound anymore.  Ben hoped that meant that it was all about gone, but he knew better.  When he caught sight of Joe’s mottled skin Pa was about ready to panic.  He knew that it meant that the boy’s circulation wasn’t doing well at all.  Pa wondered if they could make the last leg of the trip.  He stared down at his pocket watch and counted the hours that were left.  There were about ten hours of night driving left and perhaps another ten or twelve hours of daylight until they would be in San Francisco.

*** Joseph – we’re so close now – come on son – you can make it.  Twenty hours

– that’s not all that much –it’s less than a day.  Please wake up *** Ben thought as he continued to bathe his son’s fevered brow.

“I’m here,” Joe muttered and his eyelids lifted briefly before going back down again.

“Joseph?  Try and focus in on me.  I need you to try and stay awake a bit.”

“Are we there yet, Pa?” Joe called weakly, his eyes still closed.

Ben combed his fingers through his son’s curls which were now damp and matted due to the perspiration caused by his fever.  “We’re so close, Son – all you have to do is hang in there just a little longer.  By this time tomorrow you’ll be there in a hospital bed and you’ll have both me and your uncle fussing over you.  Just hang in there for me!”

“Don’t feel so good, Pa,” Joe admitted, his voice weak and barely above a whisper.

Pa drew in a deep breath and sighed.  He grabbed his son’s hand and held onto it.

“I know, Joseph, but you’ve always been a fighter – just keep fighting!”

“Can’t Pa — my strength is gone.”

Ben squeezed his son’s left hand and returned, “Your strength is right here next to you.  I’ll not let you go.”

“Okay, Pa.  I — I need to sleep just a bit.  I’ll try to hold on, Pa – I’ll try my best,” Joe nodded ever so slightly and then fell back to sleep.

Ben looked at his watch again.  It was seven p.m.  It felt as though time had slowed all day long.  He said another prayer and settled on the floor next to the bed still holding onto his son’s left hand.  He wouldn’t let go, not ever.

---

A Little after midnight as the stage continued to race against time to save Joe Cartwright’s life, Ben’s body had finally given in to the stress of both trying to tend to Joe and willing him to live.  He had passed out right there alongside of his son his hand still clasped onto Joe’s left hand.   Pa had no idea how long he had been asleep.  He had given the boy an injection a little after eight p.m. and then settled down on the floor of the stage.

Joe began to call out in his sleep.  At first it was so quiet that his father hadn’t even heard his son’s call.  Finally Joe began to thrash about and his voice rang out loudly waking Pa up.

“Joseph?” Ben whispered and reached for his son’s shoulders attempting to stop him from moving.

“No!  No!” Joe shouted, and his father was stunned by the sudden strength of his voice as he thrashed about.

“It’s alright, Son – settle down now,” Ben cooed soothingly.

Joe’s eyes shot open and he stared up at his father.  “Pa?”

“Just a dream, Son, it’s going to be alright.  You’ve been out a long time.  Let’s get you some water,” Ben tried to calm Joe and offered him some water to help to bring his fever down.

Joe accepted the water and took a few sips before waving the cup away.

“I dreamed I was in a casket,” Joe muttered.  “They were nailing it shut.  Help me up, Pa.  I can’t lie down like this anymore – I’m not going like this,” Joe insisted.

“Going where?”

“I’m not going to die lying down,” Joe returned and fought to pull himself up on the bed.

“You’re not going to die!  But you’re a bit weak right now and I don’t want you to move.  It won’t be long before we’ll be at the hospital and they’ll fix you all up.  All we have to do is just get through the night and by tomorrow afternoon we’ll be there at St. Francis.”

“I’m not lying down, Pa — that’s what I was doing in that casket!  Now help me up or I’ll do it myself!”

Ben didn’t know what to do.  He could read the intensity in his son’s eyes and had heard the insistence in his voice.  Pa figured that the nightmare had scared his son but he didn’t want to do anything that would make him weaker than he was already.

“Pa – I mean it,” Joe called up to his father.  “Help me – please!”

Ben wondered if this would be the very last time that he would cave into one of Joseph’s requests.  If his son should die due to the move Pa knew he’d never forgive himself.  The boy was feverish and his wound had stopped draining.  On top of that Joe’s skin had taken on that mottled appearance.  All that into consideration, it was his son, his youngest, and he was making what might turn out to be his final plea for help.  He had to do it.

“Slowly, Joseph, let me help you out of that bed – put your arm around my neck,” Pa instructed.

Joe eased out of the bed, his left arm slung around his father’s neck.  With all of his remaining strength he was able to make it onto the bench seat.

“Thanks, Pa,” Joe whispered and fought to catch his breath.  “Look – it’s like this – Pa if I’m supposed to die it ain’t gonna matter if I’m down on that bed or sitting here.  When you die you lay down for all eternity – well I guess unless you make heaven and then there’s no worry about it.  But, I’d just as soon let death get me when I was sitting than lying down.”

Ben shook his head wearily.   He was spent both emotionally and physically.  “Joseph, I just can’t take you talking about dying.  Please don’t do it anymore!” Pa pleaded, fighting back tears.

“Okay, Pa,” Joe agreed, at least for the present to keep those words from his mouth.  “Is it time for my medication?”

Ben opened his pocket watch and stared down at the time.  He couldn’t believe the irony that was staring up at him.  “You’re not going to believe this.”

“What?”

“You have exactly fifteen minutes, Joseph,” Pa said and forced a smile onto his lips.

In spite of feeling terrible, Joe grinned, as it was just as their journey had begun now almost three days ago.  “Okay, Pa.  Ten minutes – that’s ten times sixty, that’s six times one is six, then I’ve got to do something with those two zeros. I bring them down so ten minutes is six hundred seconds.  Then I take those five minutes.  I’ve got to add those – wait – I multiply those, five times six is thirty, thirty so I take that and add that other zero so three hundred.  I take the six hundred and the three hundred and it’s nine hundred seconds.  How’s that, Pa?”

Ben sighed and shook his head.  No matter what was going on in the life and death race to save Joe, the boy had managed to throw in just a bit of levity.   That was Joseph.  “Well, I hate to tell you this, as I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but all you had to do originally was to halve that ten to begin with and you wouldn’t have had to cypher that five minutes.”

“Now you know why I don’t try to do those ledger books of yours, Pa.  I never paid much attention in school, as you well know,” Joe replied and then his face formed into a grimace.  “I don’t know if I’ve got nine hundred seconds left anyway.”

Pa put his arm around his son and pulled him close.  “You have many, many years left, Joe.  I told you to keep fighting because this race to get you to St. Francis is almost over.”

“What’s that verse, Pa – I keep hearing it in my head – the one about the race?   You know – from the Bible?” Joe asked and his face once again scrunched up in extreme pain.

Ben had witnessed his son’s distress and fought to figure out something to do or say in order to help.  He finally answered his son’s question.  “Oh – I think I know what you’re talking about.  Is it “I fought a good fight, I’ve finished the race, I have kept the faith?”

Joe nodded his head, “Yeah, Pa – that’s it.  I have fought a good fight – you know that I have.  I know you can read me better than even I can – so I don’t have to tell you how bad I’ve been hurting.  I have tried to keep the faith too, Pa.”  Joe paused and stared into his father’s eyes.  He was trying to be strong like his father but he couldn’t hold the tears in anymore.  They streamed down his face as he continued.  “Pa – I don’t think I can finish this race.  I’m not going to make it, I’m so sorry.  I wanted to make it – just so you wouldn’t have to see me die.  It wasn’t anyone’s fault but mine.  Just a cut — a stupid little cut that I should have taken care of but I didn’t.  I put you through all of this – all of this —   and just because I wanted to hurry through my work and get to an auction.  I’m so sorry, Pa,’ Joe confessed full of remorse.   He held his hands up to his eyes and wept bitter tears.

Ben gingerly wrapped his arms around his son.  He couldn’t pull him to his chest because of the wound but he held him anyway.  “You ARE going to finish this race whether you think so or not.”

Joe attempted to wipe his tears off on his shirtsleeves.  “Is it time now, Pa?”

Pa looked at his watch once more and nodded.  “By the time that I get the medicine pulled up into the syringe it will be.  Once we get you out of some of this pain you’ll feel a bit better.”

“Sure, Pa,” Joe tried to sound more optimistic than he was feeling at that moment.

Ben moved away from the bench and readied the medicine.  He prepared the injection and brought it over to where his son sat.  “Which arm would you like this time?”

“Surprise me,” Joe nodded to his father.

“Hand me that left arm of yours,” Ben, just as Joe had, repeated the whole scene that they had acted out in the very beginning of their trip west.

Joe held his arm out and Pa braced it with his own left arm as he placed the needle once more under the pale skin.  Soon the syringe was empty and Ben placed a piece of cotton over the injection site.  He gathered all of the materials and set them back inside the medical kit.

“You know by this time tomorrow I’ll be resigning as your doctor,” Pa announced and sat back down next to his son.

“Nobody could have done better, I want you to remember that, Pa,” Joe replied earnestly.  He was worried that in hindsight his father might think that he had done something wrong.

“Well then I can’t wait for you to tell that to Doc when we get home,” Pa returned, countering what Joe had said.  Pa could sense his son’s dread over not being able to finish the last leg of the trip so he continued to counter any of those thoughts.

“Pa?” Joe whispered as he let his head fall onto his father’s shoulder.  The medicine was starting to work already due to his weakened condition.

“Yes?”

“Tell me a story – you know one from your sailing days?”

“You’ve sure been talking a lot about me and my ship’s captain days.  Alright what story would you like to hear?”

“Will you tell me about the one where your ship was taken over by pirates?” Joe asked.

Ben chuckled in spite of the feeling of impending doom which had lingered there inside the stage for almost three days.  He couldn’t fight his amusement over what his son had said.

“Joseph, now you know as well as I do that pirates never boarded any ship that I commanded!   What you’re referring to is that tall tale you told at school once those boys had seen me in my uniform.  After I did that it leant way to you coming up with all types of outlandish adventures which never happened to me.  And that includes pirates storming my ship!”

“It could have happened,” Joe returned, and he tried his best to bring up a smile for his father’s sake.

“No pirates, any other requests?”

“Okay, tell me that tale about how you had to raise the anchor or your ship would have turned over.”

“It’s call capsized, Joseph – and yes that really happened.”

“Tell me – I want to hear it one more time,” Joe insisted.

Pa bit at his bottom lip when he heard the “one more time” that his son had just said.  He was finding it harder and harder to handle hearing Joe talking like that.

“Okay, I was commanding a full-rigged clipper out of Boston and we were heading to Bermuda.  Half way there we had dropped anchor for the night.  Suddenly there came up a very strong storm so we knew we needed to get the anchor up.  Well the heaviest and most important anchor on the bow needed to be raised right away, we had only dropped the one for the night as the sea had been as smooth as glass until that south wind came on us fast along with the fierce storm.  So I called for it to be raised and nothing happened.   The capstan had a problem and without that we couldn’t raise the anchor chain along with the anchor.”

“What’s a capstan — I don’t remember, Pa?”

“That is what’s used to bring up the anchor chain, which is extremely heavy, and then it pulls the anchor up to the cathead.  The cathead is made of very strong timber that can hold the weight of the anchor.  Do you understand so far, Joseph?”

“Yeah – so the thing you use to bring up the anchor got stuck?”

“The capstan, you landlubber,” Pa corrected with a grin and then went on with the explanation.   “Well, we weren’t exactly sure what was wrong with it and the winds were growing stronger almost to gale force by the time I went down to see what had happened.  I had two-thirds of the crew working on it, as they all knew how dire the situation was getting.”

“How did you fix it?”

“Well your Pa – the captain – figured out that something had to be jamming it somehow but I wasn’t the one who figured out what was wrong with it.  We had this one sailor on board, an old timer who had been demoted so many times he had given up on asking for promotions.  The man was a decent enough boatswain but he was fond of Barbados Water.  He was too fond of it in fact.”

“Pa – I’m kind of fading in and out a bit so you’ve got to talk to me like the landlubber that I am, so terms like boatswain and Barbados Water need some explanation,” Joe interjected.

Ben chuckled and said, “Sorry, Joe, I keep forgetting that though you are a captain’s son you’ve never been to sea.”

“With my motion sickness it’s a sure bet I won’t be going on any boats either.”

“Ships, Joseph, not boats,” Ben corrected once again.  He found it to be odd that they were having such a long conversation about his past career when things seemed so dire at the time.  However, he figured that he’d much rather be talking about the sea than the former conversation Joe had begun about impending death.  “Okay let’s see, Barbados Water is rum, and boatswain is someone responsible for maintaining equipment.  Now back to the story.  The man’s name was Porter but most called him “Rummy” for obvious reasons.  Well he had heard someone coming the night before just as we had set anchor.  He had a bottle of the finest rum on him at the time, and drinking on board could send you to the brig for weeks.  So he had dropped the bottle of rum down into the capstan figuring he’d recover it once no-one was around.  That bottle somehow got stuck in with the anchor chain and hung up the capstan good.  Just one bottle of rum could have cost us the ship.  When he was finally brought forward and confessed about his bottle we were able to get it dislodged and raised the anchor which saved the ship.   And because of all of that I am here and so are you!”

“Great story, Pa,” Joe nodded.  “I use to love hearing your tales.  You’ve had a really adventurous life.  More than I can say for mine.”

“Your life has just begun, Joseph,” Ben corrected, “And though you’ve never been to sea I surely wouldn’t say your life hasn’t been adventurous!  Just look at what we’re doing right now.  Not every twenty-two year old boy gets his own personal stagecoach to go to San Francisco you know?”

Joe stared away from his father, trying to figure out how to tell him that there was no way possible that he could make it to San Francisco.  He was still suffering through extreme pain even after a full dose of morphine.  Joe also knew he had a raging fever and had looked at his drainage tubes.  He noticed that nothing was coming out of them anymore.  Joe wondered if Pa knew all of that.   And if his father did realize it, was he just pretending that his son would make it to the hospital alive?

“Pa – is there anything that you didn’t get that you wanted – I mean in life – you know – so far.  I mean — not counting the fact that you lost our mas – I know you wish that that never happened and all – but is there anything that you don’t have that you always wanted?”

Ben nodded and replied with a good bit of irony in his voice, “Yes – I wanted you to go a whole year without getting hurt or sick.”

“Well – I wanted that too, Pa,” Joe agreed.  “You should’ve let me go to Arizona.”

“No I shouldn’t have let you handle that job of pulling that old wire!  In fact I never should’ve bothered with that wire to begin with, it should’ve been tossed away somewhere.  But, we all learn from our mistakes.  And, as for wanting things that we’ve not gotten yet, well, there’s plenty of life ahead for us both, Son,” Pa said, trying to reinforce his belief that Joe would make it to the hospital in time.

“Pa – how about when we get to San Francisco we go to the beach instead of the hospital?  I’d like that – you know sitting there on the beach – just before sunset and you could point out the boats – I mean ships — and we’d just sit there together until the sun went down.  I’d rather spend time there with you than at some hospital getting cut on,” Joe’s voice held a wistfulness to it.  He could envision it so clearly now, just sitting next to the ocean and listening to his father talking about all of the ships he had commandeered as they watched the sun going down.

“Well, we can do that someday, Son, but not on this trip.  We’ve got to get your sea legs back first,” Ben nodded over to Joe.

Joe eased back some as his strength was beginning to wane.  He closed his eyes for a minute feeling like he was fading fast.  Joe drew from what little amount of energy he had left and decided that he needed to offer his father some hope for the future; a future that wouldn’t include him.

“Pa — I bet you that both Hoss and Adam will find them wives real soon and in a few years you’ll be a grandpa.  You’ll just have your hands full of kids to share all of your tales with and to love on.  I bet you’ll be the best grandpa ever!”

Ben knew exactly why Joe had said what he had and he drew in a deep breath.  He released it slowly and reached for his son’s face, turning him gently so that he could make full eye contact with him.  “Joseph, I am counting on at least one grandson from you.  I want a little grandson with curly hair and a bright smile and your mother’s eyes.  I’m sure he’ll be just as much of a hellion as his father is!”

Joe had to look away from Pa, as his eyes filled with tears.  “Pa – I’m sorry – I won’t be there to give you a grandchild.  Pa – I can feel myself fading fast and there’s nothing that either of us can do about it.  Please don’t blame yourself.  I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.  The infection was just too much for my body,” Joe said, his voice breaking because he had spoken the God’s honest truth.

Ben shook his head filling with more sorrow than his heart could contain.  He wished that he could simply will his son back to good health.  He wished he could force some strength into his boy.  Pa fought to find the words but they wouldn’t come.

A long uneasy silence fell over the interior of the stagecoach as the sound of rushing horse’s hooves filled the air.  They could hear the calls of the driver pushing the team hard trying to beat the dawn.  Ben closed his eyes and asked for God’s intervention in order to help his son.

Finally, Pa began to cry softly as he bent forward placing his hands over his face.  Joe turned towards his father and noticed how he was now weeping and the sound of it shook him to the marrow.  He hurt for Pa, who evidently had finally gotten to the point where he had to face the reality of the fact that he couldn’t save his son.

“Pa?” Joe whispered.  “Pa?” Joe called again but got no response either time.

Ben didn’t look up, he didn’t remove his hands from his face, but he finally spoke out as sobs shook his chest.  “Joseph – I have to confess – I’ve tried – I’ve tried so hard to be strong for you.  For twenty-two years I’ve fought – fought to be the strong father that you needed.  I tried, Son, I tried to always be the shoulder that you needed when you were hurt.  I tried – tried to bring you back time after time with every injury – with every illness that you’ve had.  I’m sorry – so sorry – but I just can’t – I just can’t, Joseph.  I just can’t be strong any longer.”

“Can’t what, Pa?” Joe asked, wondering if he had really heard his father’s statement correctly or if he had misunderstood what he had said.  Pa never ever quit so Joe presumed that he must be imagining things due to his fever.

“I just can’t be strong for you – any longer, Joseph, I wish I could.  I’ve failed you – I’m your father and I’m supposed to hold you up when you’re hurt – when you need me – but I just can’t — I just can’t.  It just hurts too much seeing you like this and not being able to do anything to help you.”

Joe stared at his father.  He had never seen him in this light before.  Pa was always the unbreakable pillar of strength.  Ben Cartwright had more courage than any hundred men put together.  Pa had never quit, not in his whole life, not even after the loss of three wives whom he loved so dearly.  And now Pa sat before him looking as though he had been totally broken in spirit and was unable to pretend anymore that things would be alright.  Joe prayed for the strength that he would need in order to help his father, even if it was the last thing he did on earth.

“Pa—,” Joe whispered and set his hand on his father’s shoulder.  “Pa you’re just tired.  C’mon you need to lie down for a little while.  All of this — this race to get me fixed up – it’s just been so much on you.  Pa – lie down for me – please just lean back and lie down for me,” Joe begged.

“I can’t – I can’t — not with the worry over what’s going to happen to you if I close my eyes,” Ben cried.

“Pa – listen to me – c’mon – listen,” Joe began again and gave his father’s shoulder a slight reassuring squeeze.  “I promise you – and I mean it – if you’ll lie down for just a couple of hours – I promise you I won’t die on you.  As God is my witness I will be lying right over there in that bed.  I won’t budge I won’t even move an inch.  Now come on, Pa – lean back against the side of the stage like you did the other night so’s you can stretch your legs out,” Joe insisted and stood from the bench seat, fighting to display the same kind of inner strength which his father had always shown him over the years.

“Are you sure, Joseph – are you absolutely SURE that you’ll still be here if I close my eyes for just a bit?” Ben asked, his voice still breaking with emotion.

“Yes, Sir I promise you.  I’ve got your watch too so you don’t have nothing to worry about.  I’ll even bring that darn medical bag right next to the bed – and the canteen too.  I’ll tend to myself you don’t have to worry none.   Pa I’ll take care of everything if you’ll just lie back and get some sleep.  Please do it for me, Pa.   I won’t let you down, I promise you I’ll be alive when you wake up and we’ll get to that darned old hospital in time.”

Ben slowly eased back against the side of the stagecoach and stretched out his legs.  Joe leaned over a bit, still taking care not to jostle his drains, and placed one of the extra blankets over his father.  He pulled it up over Pa’s shoulders.

“Rest for me, Pa,” Joe whispered as he watched his father close his eyes.  Joe leaned forward and decided he’d use Pa’s method of providing comfort, having been on the other end of the situation so many times.  Joe bent down and softly pressed his lips to Pa’s forehead and combed his fingers through his father’s white hair and whispered, “It’s going to be alright, Pa.  Go to sleep.”

When he was sure that he’d gotten his father calmed down, Joe moved the medical bag close to his bed along with a canteen.  He gingerly eased himself down onto the bed and leaned back on the pillow.  Joe wasn’t sure how he’d pull off the promise that he’d just made but he knew that he would try to honor it with every last ounce of willpower that he had left.  Closing his eyes Joe sent up a prayer for his father and one for himself.  He had done all that he could do so he turned it over to God now.

Surreptitiously Pa looked down at his youngest son who was resting peacefully only a few minutes after he had tended to him.  Fortunately Joseph couldn’t see the look on his father’s face at the time.  Pa wore a big smile. *** Thank God it worked!  The kid bought the whole thing hook, line and sinker.  Now he will fight – because he’s fighting for his Pa! Thank you Lord! *** Ben thought to himself and then rested his right hand on Joseph’s chest.

---

Ben had dozed off and on for four hours.  Each time his eyes opened he’d cast a look down at his son and each time Joe appeared to be slumbering peacefully.  He quietly moved off of the bench seat a little after four a.m. and prepared the next injection.  Joseph had only muttered a few words during the procedure and fell back off to sleep.  There had been a quick exchange of the team of horses right before dawn and the two drivers ran inside the way station and then checked to see if Ben wanted to also go inside for a bit.  Pa had taken them up on the offer and also ran inside quickly and soon they were all on their way once again. The drivers had a chance to grab some badly needed coffee during the change out and were once again ready to pick up the speed in the race against the clock.  Ben remembered that one of the drivers had mentioned that there should only be two more stops and that they would hopefully make San Francisco by around two or three p.m. if all went well.  Pa prayed that would be the case as he knew that his son was just barely holding on.

“Pa?” Joe whispered as he came back around.

Ben was quick to get over to his son and smiled down at him.  “You missed one of our stops by about an hour, Joseph.  I’m sure you wanted to get off and find that bottle of whiskey that you talked about the other night, right?” Pa hoped to keep the conversation light after all that had been said around midnight.

“Pa?  You okay?” Joe asked as he tried to scan his father’s face to see if he appeared to be doing better than he had the prior night.

“I’m fine – sorry that I worried you, Son.  How about you?”

“Well – I’ve felt better – but I guess I’m going to make it – though last night I really thought I wouldn’t see another day.  If it hadn’t been for what happened to you I mean — well –,” Joe trailed off as he didn’t want to embarrass his father by bringing up the way he had fallen apart earlier.

Ben knelt down next to his son’s bed and replied, “I’m sorry, Joe – I guess I needed to get it all out.  I’m glad that you were able to take over for a little while – it sure helped me to get some rest.”

Joe searched his father’s face again, there was just something a little different in Pa’s eyes as he had made his confession.  The truth of what had happened earlier was written all over the man’s face, no matter how hard he was trying to disguise the facts about his sudden emotional breakdown.  Pa was just too honest to lie and hadn’t had much experience in trying to conceal the truth, unlike his youngest son who was very proficient in fibbing.

Joe slowly shook his head and smiled over at him.  “Pa – you didn’t really fall apart last night – now did you?”

“Let me have a look at your drains,” Ben changed the subject and carefully pulled his son’s blanket down.

Joe’s left hand reached up and patted his father’s shoulder to get his attention.  “Pa – fess up.”

“Your drains are still in okay – and later today you’ll have some real doctors to tend to you,” Ben said and eased the blanket back up around his son’s shoulders.  He was very obvious in his attempt to avoid Joe’s questions.

“You were trying to give me something to fight for, weren’t you?”

Ben sighed wearily due to his son’s persistence.  He reached for the canteen and poured Joe some water and brought the cup up to the boy’s lips.  “You get some water into you, Joseph.”

Joe drank what he could and then waved the cup away.  “That was it, wasn’t it, Pa?  You were trying to get me to hold on – and you figured if I saw you breaking down that I would try to keep going for your sake, right?”  Joe wasn’t going to give up on the questioning.

Pa sighed and then grinned over at his son and asked, “Well – did it work – I mean if I really DID do what you’ve accused me of doing?”

“Yes, Sir, it worked,” Joe nodded and took his father’s hand into his own.  “I can take just about anything – anything but seeing my Pa hurting.”

“Well – then – no matter what happened last night — it got you through until today.  And, after all, that’s the most important thing, right?”

“Thanks, Pa,” Joe whispered and began to grow tired once more.

“You go ahead and get some sleep, Son.  I’ll let you know when it’s time for your next injection.  Until then just conserve your strength.”

“I’ve got my strength,” Joe nodded as he held onto his Pa’s hand.  “You’ve always given me strength, Pa.”

Ben eased back against the seat and watched as his son’s eyelids started to droop.

Just before Joe fell back off to sleep he whispered, “But you are new to this lying stuff – I’ll have to show you how it’s done right.”

Pa chuckled and patted his son’s arm as he watched him nod off.  Ben opened his pocket watch and said yet another prayer that they’d be arriving at the hospital in time to save Joe’s life.  ***Two more stops and then we’ll be there.  Lord just please take care of my boy *** Pa thought to himself as he sat there still holding onto Joseph’s hand.

---

Ben had fallen to sleep about an hour after his son had gone back under.  He was jolted awake by the rough stop of the stagecoach.  Pulling himself off of the floor, Ben moved to the window opposite from where Joe lay sleeping.  He thought that it had to be too early for another way station, but hadn’t had the time to check his watch when he heard the call of the drivers.

“Damn!” Jed Simmons sang out and hopped down from his perch atop the driver’s seat soon followed by his co-driver Thomas Ackers.

“Let me have a look,” Thomas shouted and moved towards the team of six horses.

Casting a quick glance over at Joseph and determining that he was still out of it, Ben opened the stage door and carefully stepped down to the ground.

“What’s going on?” Ben asked nearing the two men.

Thomas studied the torn lead line and shot a glance back to his passenger.  “I’m afraid we’ve just hit our first bit of bad luck, Ben.  We lost the main lead line. Those men back at the last station must’ve forgotten to check the rigging before we changed up.”

Ben drew closer and frowned.  “Any way to knot the two ends in order to make due until we get to the next station?”

Jed inspected the line and shook his head while trying to hold back on his cursing.  “It’s about seven miles to the next one, Ben.  I’d sure hate to chance it, knotting up that rawhide isn’t going to hold that team and even if we set loose the two front horses there’s still not enough lead line to pull through those rings.  Only thing I can come up with is for one of us to ride to the next station on one of these horses and bring back the rigging we need.”

Ben drew in a deep breath and held it in.  He knew that it would take hours to go to and from the next way station and time was not on their side as Joe’s condition was worsening by the minute.

“You got a six horse whip?” The voice from inside the stage called out.

Ben turned to see Joe sitting there next to the window.  He had no earthly idea how his son had made it across the interior of the stage on his own power as weak as he’d been.

Jed and Thomas shared a stunned glance back and forth.  Not only were they surprised to see the young man awake and alert but he had also just spouted some driver style lingo.

“What do you know about that, Boy?” Jed asked as he moved to the door and peered up.

“I had a notion when I was younger that I wanted to be a driver and I got to go on a few runs with a friend I’d made.  He told me how lots of you men keep those types of whips mainly for show.  Either of you got one with you?”

Ben walked over to Jed and stared up at his son.  “You should be lying down!” He called up to Joe.

“Yeah well – I felt the jolt and thought this was my stop, Pa.  Now – how about it, you got one?” Joe turned his attention back to Jed who was soon joined by Thomas.

“I brung mine,” Thomas nodded.

“I got mine too – I carry it for luck but rarely use the darned thing,” Jed added.

Joe forced a smile, hiding the fact that his gut was killing him at the time, and replied, “If you both wouldn’t mind giving them up for a good cause I believe I can help you with that lead line.  My father will make good on getting you two new ones, right, Pa?”

Ben had begun to think that his son was obviously out of his head due to his fever, but one look into his eyes told him that he was in error.  Joseph looked adamant that he could help with the situation.

“Yes — I’ll gladly get you both new whips,” Pa nodded.  “What do you have in mind, Joseph?”

“Get me that broken lead rein and the six team whips and I’ll show you, Pa.”

Thomas and Jed made quick work at unlatching and unthreading the broken lead and then retrieving their stowed whips.  They handed all of the materials to Ben who brought them up into the stagecoach.

“Why don’t you men take a little break, this shouldn’t take too long,” Joe sang out again and moved with his father over to the bench seat.

Both drivers shrugged their shoulders having no idea what the sickly young man was up to, but they figured they’d be finding out very soon.

Ben moved to sit next to Joe and he stared over at him.  The boy still looked so weak but somehow he was wide awake.

“Joe?  Do you think you should be sitting instead of lying down?”

“Pa,” Joe began and smiled up at his father to show he was doing okay before he continued, “I decided I’m not going to die today – not when we’re this close to finishing the race.  I heard you three talking out there and suddenly realized that it’s about time that I contributed to this little adventure.  Now strip down the handles on both of those whips and hand me what’s left of that main lead line and I’ll show you what I can do.”

Pa, whose heart had fallen in his chest upon hearing the news about the lead line a few minutes earlier, suddenly felt like there was hope yet.  And on top of that he could read the fierce determination in his son’s eyes.  Ben shucked back the stocks of both whips and handed the rawhide which was inside to his son.

“Okay, what are you going to do now, Joseph?”

Joe grabbed the ends of what had been the two six team whips which consisted of rawhide bands, each around twenty two feet long.  He had tied a knot where the main lead line had severed so he would have a guide as to how long the replacement would need to be.

“I don’t know who it was — but somebody taught me to braid rawhide when I was just a little kid,” Joe grinned over at his father.  “And, I’m about the fastest braider this side of the Rockies.  Just go sit on that other bench seat opposite me and hold onto those ends for me, Pa.”

Ben shook his head feeling both amused and suddenly optimistic.  He had taught Joseph how to braid when he was only about five years old and it was true that he was fast.

“I’ve got them – go ahead, Son let’s see if you’ve still got the fastest hands in the West!” Ben called over to Joe as he took a seat across from him and held on to the rawhide ends.

Both of the whips were a tad over twenty two feet long and, once braided together with the tightened piece of lead line, soon served as a perfect replacement.  It had only taken Joe Cartwright twenty minutes to do what others would have spent hours doing.

“Take it to them, Pa.  It’s going to be a tad snug fit but I guarantee it will hold long enough to get us to that next station,” Joe nodded as he handed the rawhide braid over to his father.

Ben patted his son’s shoulder proudly and Joe heard him calling to the two drivers.

“My boy has got it all done!  How about we get the line strung and get back on the road!” Ben announced triumphantly as he jumped out of the stage.

Both drivers took turns pulling on the new lead line and they broke into big smiles.

“I’ll just be darned!” Thomas called over to Ben.

“He’s being polite, Ben –,” Jed grinned over at his partner.  “If you wasn’t standing right here next to the two of us we’d be spouting some very choice words about now.  You tell that boy of yours we’ll be back on the road in just a minute and the both of you’d better hold on because we’re gonna make up for lost time!”

Ben laughed and replied, “I’ll tell him.  One thing for sure – that line won’t come out for a good long while – not with the way my son braids.”

Within ten minutes the new reinforced main line was threaded across the backs of the horses tying all of the harnesses together and the end rested in Jed’s gloved hand as he shouted that they were back on their way.

“Well done, Joseph,” Pa smiled proudly as he helped his son back down onto his bed, covering him with the blanket once more.

“Thanks, Pa — it’s the first time I’ve felt needed for days,” Joe replied glad to know that he was a help for a change.  For almost three days he had heard both drivers refer to him as “the injured young man in the stage” and Joe was happy that he’d now be known as “the young man who had braided the lead line.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Ben corrected and patted his son’s arm.  “I’ve needed you.”

“Sure, Pa – you needed me alright.  You needed me to save you from having to pretend that you had lost all of your strength,” Joe smiled knowingly over at his father.

“You get some rest now that you’ve saved the day.  Go on close those eyes.”

Joe nodded as he felt sudden exhaustion taking over his body.  He fell right off to sleep without another word.

Ben thought on all that Joe had done and a smile pulled at his lips, “That’s my boy,” He whispered and settled back down against the bench seat.  *** Two more stops, Lord – just two more stops *** He sighed to himself.

---

With renewed fervor the two drivers made up some of the lost time from changing out the damaged lead line.  Just under an hour and a half later they pulled up into the second to last way station of the long trip.  Both Jed and Thomas walked over to the coach to see how their passengers were doing.  Ben signaled that his son was fast asleep and that Joe wouldn’t be getting out of the stage.  There were two Overland employees who came over and introduced themselves and offered to watch out for Joe while Ben and the two drivers went inside the station.  They promised not to disturb the injured young man as they went about the task of swapping the old team of horses for a new one.  Both drivers cautioned the men that they had to rig the main lead line and that it would need to be removed before sending another team out using the rigging.  Jed and Thomas also told them to triple check the new rigs to make sure they wouldn’t have any further problems.  Once that was taken care of the two drivers along with a very tired Ben Cartwright went inside the building to get some coffee and sandwiches for the last leg of the trip.

While Ben used the privy and then rinsed his face with some cool water, Jed and Thomas were talking to the stage manager who seemed to be upset about something.  Upon noticing that there was some kind of problem, Ben joined around the three men.

“What’s wrong?” Ben asked, hoping there wasn’t another snag to the very end of the long race to get Joe to the hospital.

“Ben – this is Jeff Saunders, the stage line representative,” Jed introduced the two men.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mister Cartwright,” Jeff nodded.  “I just wanted all of you to be aware of the trouble we’ve been having in route from this station on into San Francisco the last two weeks.”

“What kind of trouble?” Ben asked, after shaking the man’s outstretched hand.

“Two of our stages have been hit by a roving band of outlaws.  They’ve been described as bandits by the garb they were wearing.  Nobody’s been killed yet but they’ve taken some hits.  I had a driver winged along with two passengers.  The local authorities are doing their best – but I just wanted you men to be prepared.  I don’t want to hold you up any longer – as I know how dire your situation is – but you all need to take measures to be prepared just in case.”

“You got a gun with you, Ben?” Jed asked.

Pa nodded and replied, “I had to pack up pretty quick there at the hospital in Carson but both my son’s and my outfits are in that small brown carpet bag on top of the stage.”

“Best get it down, Thomas,” Jed called over to his partner and soon the three of them were back outside getting ready to hit the road again.

Pa climbed up into the stage with the bag carrying the two six-guns along with a paper bag with some food inside.  Ben stared across the interior of the stage and could see that Joseph hadn’t moved a muscle since he had left him some fifteen minutes earlier.  He decided it might be a good idea to strap on his holster to be prepared, as Jeff Saunders had cautioned, just in case.  Ben tied the leather strings, settling the Colt inside his holster now strapped down to his thigh.   Kneeling down next to the bag he made sure that he had enough ammunition in case it was needed and he hoped that it wouldn’t be an issue.  Ben was glad that he had thought to empty the shells from inside of his saddlebags into the small carrying case so that there would be plenty of rounds if they were to be necessary. He placed the bag under the bench seat opposite from where his son lay fast asleep.  Pa checked the chamber of his Colt and made sure that it was fully loaded; it was.  Staring again at Joe, he prayed that the rest of the trip would go by uneventfully.   Ben just wanted to get his son to the hospital as soon as possible as the boy had suffered for far too long already.  Sending up another prayer he then moved to sit on the floor next to Joe.

Joe slowly became aware of his surroundings and looked over to where his father sat dozing alongside his make-shift bed.  He blinked his eyes a few times to make sure he was seeing right.  Pa was wearing his holster.  Joe wondered why he had strapped it on as he hadn’t needed it for the entire trip thus far.

Ben became suddenly aware of the two eyes staring down at him.  “Joe?  You back with me again?”

Joe nodded and watched as his father stood to retrieve the canteen.  Pa poured a cup of water and soon held it up to his lips.  “That’s about all I can take for right now, Pa.”

“Just a little more, Joseph — I’ve been worried about that fever of yours,” Ben coaxed his son.

Joe drew in a deep breath and fought the nausea once more.  He tried to get down a few more sips to satisfy his father’s concern.

“Good, Son,” Ben said and patted the boy’s arm.  “Should I ask you how you’re feeling?”

“No – not right now, Pa.  Hey – what’s with the holster?  Did I miss something?”

Ben frowned, as he had hoped not to have to mention the seriousness of the current situation.  “Just as a precaution – apparently they’ve had some trouble in this area and the stage manager wanted us to know.”

“Guess I missed my stop again, huh?” Joe tried to pretend he wasn’t alarmed by his father’s news.

Pa grinned, “Yes, that you did — but there’s only one more to go and we will then be getting into San Francisco.”

“Pa – I know I’m probably due for another shot – but maybe we’d best wait on it.  If anything’s going to happen maybe you’d better bring me my gun.”

“No,” Ben replied emphatically.  “You need the pain medicine – probably more so now than before.  I’ve checked those drains of yours – and it’s got me worried.”

Joe nodded his head slightly and returned, “Yeah, Pa – I’ve known about that for a while now.  Either all of the infection is gone or the drains stopped working.  But if we’re going to run into any trouble I don’t want to just lay down here and listen to shooting.  My head would be a bit clearer without that morphine.  I think I can tough it out for a little while.”

Before Ben could respond he heard the shouts of both Thomas and Jed.  They warned that riders were approaching fast.  Leaning out of the window just above his son’s bed, Ben took a look.  He saw about six men riding in hard.  Ben sprinted to the window on the other side of the stagecoach and spied another five riders rushing towards them.

“Just stay down low, Joseph!” Ben yelled and drew his Colt into his hand.

Joe watched as his father began to fire his weapon and he also heard rifle fire coming from one of the two stagecoach drivers.  He noticed the brown satchel on the floor opposite from where he was lying.  Joe figured that Pa must have packed his gun and holster in there as he had it on him when he had been brought to the hospital days earlier.  With Pa very preoccupied, Joe stealthily dropped down off of his bed and pulled himself over to the bench seat.  Reaching inside the bag, the injured young man was able to find his Colt and checked to see if it was loaded.  It was.  Returning to his bed, Joe pulled himself into a semi-reclining position with his left hand holding his six-gun.

Ben turned when he heard the gun go off across the interior of the stagecoach.  He couldn’t believe that his son was sitting there defending the window from the attacking bandits.  Pa shook his head feeling half annoyed at and half proud of his son.  *** I might have known – that boy will never give up — not even in his weakened condition! *** Ben thought to himself.

A bullet streaked through the inside of the stage narrowly missing Pa’s head.  Joe watched it as it sailed past him.

“Damn that was close!” Joe shouted.

“Stay down, Joseph!” Ben yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Nothing doing, not when they’re shooting at my father — I’m not staying down!” He called out and then aimed well enough to shoot one man off of his horse.  “Pa – can you hand me a box of shells please?”

Ben groaned.  He didn’t want his son to be shooting anyway.  But, he knew that Joe would just go down to the floor again and retrieve the extra shells if he didn’t hand them to him.

“Here,” Pa said quickly as he handed Joe the extra cartridges.

Joe reloaded fast and then aimed again and took another man off of his horse with his bullet.  He heard his father sending off several rounds and then one of the drivers shouted that he had gotten one of the bandits with his shotgun.

“Looks like we’re making headway, Pa, I count five of their men down so far!”

“It’s that left hand shooting that’s doing the most damage,” Ben sang out and reloaded his weapon and then resumed shooting at the bandits on his side of the stage.

Joe heard another bullet as it came whizzing through the stage.  “Duck Pa!” He shouted.

Ben had just enough time to drop down to his knees as the bullet went in one side of the stage and out the other.  “That was a bit close,” He called over to his son.

“I only see two on this side, Pa – how many you got there?”

“Two,” Ben sang out and took aim.  “Correction, make that one, Joseph.”

In spite of the fact that his gut was absolutely on fire at the time, Joe had to grin over what his father had just said.  “Good shooting, Pa!”

“Thanks.”

Joe took aim again and he caught one of the bandits in the shoulder making him fall off of his horse.  “Now there’s one left on this side.”

“One on this one too, Joe – but he’s falling back.”

“I think they know they’ve had it now, Pa,” Joe announced and eased back down onto the bed.

Thomas called down to Ben from the luggage rack on top of the stage, “You men aright in there?  Anyone hurt?”

“We’re alright – how about you and Jed?” Ben sang out through the window.

“Had a couple near misses but we’re both okay.  That was mighty good shooting, Ben!”

“It wasn’t just me it was also my boy, Thomas.  He handled that other window just fine!”

“Kid’s got guts, I’ll give him that.  We’re going to be okay now – you two rest up,” Thomas said and made his way back onto the driver’s bench.

Pa settled his gun back into his holster and made his way over to his son.  He could see that Joe was pretty much spent over all of the exertion he had been put through during the siege.

“Joseph – ease back –everything is okay now,” Pa said and helped to settle his son down onto the bed.

Joe grimaced as he drew in a deep breath before speaking.  “Hey, Pa – remember when I said that I didn’t have an adventurous life?”

“Oh yes – when we were talking about my seafaring days, right?”

Joe nodded and tried his best to bring up a smile, though his injury was killing him at the time, “Well, I take it back – I’ve had my share of moments where I’ve had more adventure than I wanted.”

Ben patted Joe’s shoulder and laughed.  “You sure have!  And you have lots more ahead of you too!”

Joe stopped before he said the words he was going to “I hope so”, and instead just nodded up at his father.  “I think I’ll take that pain medicine now that the excitement is over with.”

“Good decision,” Pa quipped and turned to ready the injection.

---

Ben was worried.  In fact he was more worried than he had been for the whole four plus days since learning that his son was hurt.  He had given Joe the injection right after their run-in with the bandits and the boy hadn’t made a sound or even moved on the bed for hours.  On top of that Joe’s fever had mounted and there wasn’t much that his father could do to bring it down.  Pa went back to what he had attempted to do all throughout the trip using wet towels for Joe’s forehead along with the alcohol rubs but neither had worked.  He had tried to bring his son back around in order to get him to take in some water but it had proven to be a fruitless act.  Joseph hadn’t responded to his name being called nor did the slight taps to his cheeks produce any results.  Checking his son’s pulse had caused Ben even greater concern as it was almost imperceptible.  He just couldn’t lose the boy now, not after so many hours and so many miles spent rushing to get him to the hospital.

Ben moved over to the door and decided to go back through its window in order to talk to the two drivers.

“How much further till the next stop?” He called over the loud sound of the pounding of the horse’s hooves.

Thomas was now holding the reins and Jed turned to cast a glance over his shoulder.  “About four or five miles, Ben, how’s your boy doing?”

“Not good – not good at all I’m afraid.  He hasn’t made a sound since we all took care of those bandits.  I’m worried that all of that shooting he did taxed his already weakened body.”

In response, Thomas yelled at the team of horses and slapped the reins trying to pick up the pace.  “I’ll try to get us there as fast as these horses can go!” Thomas shouted back towards his passenger.

“I’d appreciate it,” Ben replied and then moved back inside of the stage.

Soaking another towel with more water from his canteen, Ben placed it onto his son’s forehead.  “Joseph – Joseph – hang on boy – it won’t be much longer,” He called down to him.  There was no response.  Gently easing down the blanket which was covering Joe’s wound his father took a look at the incision and the two drains.  He wondered if he should attempt to reposition the drains in an effort to get them to draw the infection out.  Ben felt so helpless and he second guessed everything he had done thus far.

*** Please Dear Lord — please help me – help me to do whatever I need to do in order to keep my son alive *** Ben prayed as he bit his bottom lip and shook his head at the sight of Joe’s wound and the redness which was very apparent around it.  He could see the pink lines of infection that were spreading out like a spider web all over the boy’s abdomen.

Without warning Joe’s mouth opened and he made a sudden gasp and his chest came up a few inches.  For an instant Pa was absolutely sure that he had just witnessed his son’s last breath and he felt as though his own heart had stopped upon hearing the sound.

“Joseph – stay with me!” Ben pleaded with his son and grabbed the boy’s arm holding it tightly.  There wasn’t a response and Joe’s face suddenly appeared to go as white as a ghost.  Unable to hear his son breathing, Pa shakily placed the middle and index finger of his right hand directly over Joe’s jugular vein to the left side of his neck.  Ben didn’t feel a pulse and panic surged throughout his mind seizing control of his thoughts.

“Joseph — Joseph – breathe boy!  Do you hear me?  Breathe!” Pa shouted and placed his left ear down onto his son’s chest to try and detect a heartbeat that way.  He heard nothing.

“No!” Ben shouted and took the wet towel which had been laid on top of Joe’s forehead and soaked it in water from the canteen, spilling the water all over the floor by his hurried opening of it.  He placed the drenched towel onto Joe’s face hoping that it might do something – anything to bring his son back.  Pa knew that he was running out of options and time, as he wasn’t sure that he could get Joseph to breathe again.

Finally Joe took in a breath but it had a strange wheezing to it when Pa heard it.  Pa continued to soak his son’s face.  It was an act done out of pure desperation and instinct and it was all that Ben could think to do at the time.

“Come on, Joseph!  Come on stay here – I need you – you can’t leave me now!  We’ll be there real soon.  Breathe, Joe!” Ben again pleaded with the unconscious boy.

“Pah — Pah —,” Joe’s words came out almost inaudible.  But they had come nonetheless and it quickened Pa’s heart.

“Thank God – thank God!” Ben cried and set his right palm against Joe’s left cheek.  “Son, you’re going to be alright—do you hear me?  All we have is just a couple of hours and we’ll be in San Francisco and your uncle will be waiting on us.”

“Pah  — Pah – beach — want to –,” Joe began but was too weak to continue.

Ben bent down to retrieve the canteen and noticed that in his haste to try to soak the towel earlier that he hadn’t capped it.  He turned and reached for another canteen over on the bench seat and opened it.  Pa poured the water into a cup and brought it up to his son’s lips.  “Drink some of this, Joe, we’ve got to try and get that fever down.

Joe managed to take in a little of the water before he let his head drop down onto the pillow.  “Beach — Pa – beach,” He attempted to get his message out again.

Pa closed the canteen and tossed it back onto the seat and then turned back to his son and asked, “Beach?  Is that what you said?”

“Beach — -beach Pa – not hospital.  Want to – want to go there – watch sun go down – there with you.  We – we will watch the ships.”

Ben was unsure if his son was delirious or if he was fully aware of where he was. The boy was insisting on not going to the hospital and instead Joe wanted to sit on the beach and watch the sunset one final time.  “Well, hold on there, Young Man, we’ve got to get you patched up before we can do that.  But, if you’ll get yourself well then I promise you that I’ll get you to the beach and then the two of us will watch those ships and the sun going down together.  You’ve got to get your sea legs first.”

“Pah— Pah – hurting – hurting pretty bad,” Joe admitted as his expression turned into a grimace.

“I know, Joseph.  Let me see how much longer we have until your next injection,” Ben returned and pulled his pocket watch out of his vest.  “Joe – guess we should have known – guess when your next one is due?”

Joe tried his best to focus in on his father’s face and replied, “I – I’d say now, Pa.”

“Not quite – it’s due in fifteen minutes – or nine hundred seconds to you, Joseph,” Pa smiled and patted his son’s arm.  “We ought to be at the last way station in just a few minutes so your pa won’t have to give you that shot while this stage is rocking back and forth.  And after this injection the very next one you’ll get will be done by a real doctor.”

Joe squeezed his eyes shut and fought back the intensity of the pain he felt shooting up from his wound.  “After — after all of this, Pa, I’ll — I’ll fight anyone — anyone — who says that my father isn’t – isn’t a real doctor,” Joe whispered, his words coming out broken and choppy due to the agony which racked his body.  He was having a harder time now and felt waves of nausea caused by each and every movement of the stagecoach.

Ben sighed and shook his head in wonderment.  In less than ten minute’s time he had gone from thinking that his son was dead to hearing the boy trying to give him a compliment.  Feeling just a tad bit more at ease, Pa ran his fingers through Joe’s hair and replied, “Don’t go telling anyone I’m a doctor – I told you that I’m retiring just as soon as I get you to the hospital – which should be within a few hours.”

“Beach,” Joe muttered and gave a slight nod to his head.

Pa laughed and said, “Beach – yes – after you are well.  Now settle down we’ll be pulling up in just a second.   I can see the station now.  Hang on we’re getting ready to take a hard stop as they pull the team back.”

Thomas pulled into the final way station of the trip and both he and Jed jumped down from their perch.  The two men hurriedly ran over to the door and pulled it open to check on their passengers.

“How’s he doing, Ben?” Jed asked.

Ben didn’t want to say too much in front of his son, worried that if he had told the driver how he thought that Joe was close to death’s door that he’d give up.

“He’s hanging in there – how much longer?”

“We’re going to do a quick change up and then push on into San Francisco.  Gonna try to get you two there in under two hours if we can,” Jed answered.

“Good,” Ben nodded over to the man, feeling very grateful that both drivers understood the urgency of getting Joe to the hospital as soon as humanly possible.

“They’re bringing over the new team now, Ben.  You want to come in and freshen up a bit?” Thomas asked.

“No – I’m going to give my son an injection.  I’m fine until we get into San Francisco.  You two go on ahead.”

“Okay – we’ll be right back!” Thomas exclaimed and the two men hurried inside the station in order to grab a quick cup of coffee before finishing the mission to save their injured passenger.

“Pa? Pa go ahead – get something to drink besides canteen water,” Joe whispered, worried about his father.

Ben patted Joe’s shoulder and then turned for the medical kit.  “The next cup of coffee I have will be at the Saint Francis Hospital with your uncle.  Now let’s get you the last shot that your father will be handling,” Pa insisted.

The team of horses was changed out with great haste and in less than twenty minutes the drivers were on board and the stagecoach was back on the road and racing towards the final destination in San Francisco.

“Won’t be long now, Son,” Ben began and stared over at Joe.  “Is that shot helping any yet?”

Joe wasn’t sure what to say at the time.  He felt so awful that the morphine had barely touched the pain he was experiencing.  But he knew that his father was already worried so he decided to hold back from telling the truth.  “I’m okay, Pa – I’m trying my best to finish this race.”

“I’m proud of you – I know you’ve been hurting this whole time and this particular race has been a tough one.  We had problems with drains – broken leads and bandits but you’ve hung in there, Joseph.  Just a little while longer and you’ll be getting all fixed up at the hospital.”

Joe couldn’t help but to smile over at his father who was giving his usual pep talk to try and lift his spirits.  “Beach – beach, Pa – they can let me off there.”

Ben chuckled as he reached over and set a new wet cloth down onto his son’s forehead.  “Hospital, Joseph – hospital and then we will eventually get you to your preferred destination.”

Closing his eyes, Joe finally surrendered to his exhaustion and was soon fast asleep again.  Pa felt for Joe’s pulse, and though he found it to be a bit faint, he was just thankful that he could feel it, unlike earlier.  *** Please get us there — Lord — please – it’s been such a long trip – help us get to the hospital so they can save Joseph’s life *** Ben prayed as he had so many times on the journey.

---

Ben watched anxiously for the sign of the Overland Stage Depot there in San Francisco.  He knew the building very well after having traveled to that town on many occasions.  Ben knew it would be about a three mile ride by whatever other form of transportation from there to the hospital but he hoped that he might find Harold Peele’s manservant, Robert, waiting for the two of them.  He heard the loud shouts of both Thomas and Jed as they made their way to the depot but never stopped.  Ben wondered why they had shot past the building.  It was only then that he began to get the inkling as to what was going on with the two drivers.

A few miles later, Pa gently shook his son’s arm and called down to him.  “Joseph – Joseph – open your eyes – come on.”

Joe’s eyelids fluttered a few times and then stayed open.  “W-w-what’s going on – Pa – what—what is it?” He asked, confusion painting his face.

“Let me help you sit up just a tad – you’ve got to see this, Son,” He replied and eased Joe up very carefully so that he could take a quick look out of the window.  “Joseph, it looks like they’re trying to pull this stage right up to the door for you!”

Joe could see the front of the hospital coming into view and had also noticed a frenzied group of nurses hurrying into the building.

Thomas pulled back on the reins and shouted out to his passengers.  “Here’s your stop – decided that you two didn’t need to have to get another ride to get over here!”

Jed jumped down from his perch and quickly moved to the stage door and yanked it open.  “Ben, we’re going to find that doctor friend of yours – you both sit still!”

“I can’t thank you both enough,” Ben replied, his eyes misting up from the assistance that the two men had given him throughout the trip.

“Be right back!” Jed exclaimed and headed for the entrance of the hospital.

“What do you think about all this, Joseph?  Awfully nice to get this type of help – isn’t it?”

“Yes—but — I was hoping – hoping to get let off at the beach,” Joe nodded over to his father.

“I’ll get you there – once you’re better.  Look – there’s Harold!” Pa called down excitedly as the doctor came into view from the window above his son’s bed.

---

Doctor Harold Peele had been pacing for hours there in the foyer of the hospital as he waited for the arrival of both Ben and Joe Cartwright.  He had sent his manservant, Robert Weems to bring them immediately from the stage depot upon their arrival.  So it came as a complete surprise to him when he had heard the shouts outside and watched as the stagecoach made an unexpected stop.  It was unheard of to have any kind of traffic other than carriages or sometimes horseback riders there at the hospital.  However, Harold knew of the dire circumstances which involved his nephew’s condition and was thrilled to see his arrival.  It would save precious minutes in order to hasten the young man getting into the surgical suite.

Harold ordered the stretcher and the four attendants who were now heading their way over to the stage as Ben Cartwright made his way out.

“Ben!” Harold exclaimed and reached out to shake his hand.

“Harold – so glad to see you,” Ben smiled and shook the outstretched hand.

“Let me see my nephew,” Harold said moving just past Ben.   He reached up to grab the stagecoach door.  Climbing quickly inside he was soon staring down at his nephew.

“Hi uncle,” Joe said and tried his best to form a smile.  He was almost done in from the trip but wanted the man to know how glad he was to have made it there.

“Joseph— I’ve got a stretcher waiting for you.  Let me just get a quick glance at that injury,” He said and Joe moved aside the towel which was covering his wound.

Harold tried his best not to show the alarm on his face or in his eyes.  It wasn’t hard to diagnose the severe infection just in one quick glance.

“Sorry I rarely get to see you when I’m not in some kind of trouble” Joe apologized as he watched his uncle’s movements.

“Well – we will get you all fixed up.  I don’t want you to try to move, let my orderlies handle this – that’s their specialty, okay?”

Joe nodded obediently as he watched his uncle move off of the stage.  Soon there were two men in white coats next to him.  They grabbed the make-shift bed up in their hands and maneuvered it sideways.  Then slowly they brought it to the door of the stage.  Both men eased it down into the hands of two other orderlies and they hurried to place Joe onto a stretcher.  Soon they were rushing him through the hospital doors.

Ben took a moment to shake the hands of both drivers.   “I just don’t have the words – the words to thank you both.”

Jed and Thomas seemed a bit choked up after seeing their injured passenger being rushed inside the hospital.  “Ben – it’s been our pleasure— and we both want you to know we’ll be praying for your boy,” Jed replied and turned over the luggage to another orderly who had come back out in order to see to any other needs that the Cartwrights might have.  The man grabbed up the luggage and headed back inside of the hospital.

“Heck we’ve been praying for the kid the last three days – figure we’ll keep on until you let our boss know how he made out!”  Thomas exclaimed and shook Ben’s hand.

“I will do that just as soon as I know,” Ben nodded.  “I hope this unplanned drop off here at the hospital doesn’t get the two of you in any trouble.”

Jed laughed as he and Thomas got ready to climb back on board.  “Naw —  I expect we’ll probably hear some choice words here in this town – but our boss will be happy.”

“I’ll be sending two new whips for you,” Ben called up to the men.  “I’ve got to head inside now – my deepest thanks.”

“Good luck,” Both drivers called down to Ben and then sent their team forward.

Ben turned his attention to Harold as they both hurried inside the hospital.

“You look exhausted,” Harold said to Ben.

To that remark Ben shook his head and glanced over at Harold and replied, “Harold — I’ve almost lost the boy three times on this trip – I’ve been petrified we wouldn’t get here in time to save him.”

Harold draped his arm around Ben’s shoulder to comfort him and returned, “My best surgeons are scrubbed up and waiting for the boy.  Let’s go and see him before they put him under.”

Ben and Doctor Peele raced down one of the long corridors of the hospital making their way to the operating room in order to see Joe before he would be anesthetized.

“When did he have his last injection, Ben?  The surgeon will need to know.”

“It’s been roughly two hours,” Ben said and paused to reach inside his vest.  He retrieved his pocket watch and stared down at the time.  “To be precise it’s been two hours and fifteen minutes.”  He closed his eyes and could hear Joe trying to cypher how many seconds there were in fifteen minutes.

“That’s fine—wait out here just a bit – I’ll find out when you can see him before they start.  I’ll be right back,” Harold replied and pointed for Ben to take a seat there just outside of the operating room.

---

Suddenly Ben felt spent.  He had relied on pure adrenaline and fear to keep him awake and alert for days and now suddenly he was drained.  Ben had also grown accustomed to Joseph always being there next to him where he could see the boy.  But now his son had been abruptly removed from his presence.  There were no longer the sounds coming from the team of horses and the shouts of the drivers who had raced around the clock trying to get to San Francisco in time to save Joe’s life.  It was far too quiet now and Ben felt so totally alone.  He had turned Joseph over to men who he had never met before.  Now he wouldn’t be seeing to the boy’s every need like he had done for three straight days.  Ben decided that he’d better do something or he wouldn’t be able to handle the feeling that he had lost all control over the situation.  Closing his eyes, he bowed his head and prayed.  *** Thank you Lord for getting us here – please stay with my son— please help the surgeon as he attempts to save my son’s life — amen ***

Harold had witnessed the worried father praying and waited until he saw Ben’s head lifting before saying anything.  He figured the man needed to get his prayer sent off first.

“You can come in, Ben, but it won’t be for long – they’re about ready to put Joseph under now.”

Pa jumped from his seat and nervously followed Harold into the operating room.  He forced a confident smile onto his face as he neared the operating table where Joe was now lying.  He reached for his son’s hand and squeezed it, attempting to force strength in to the boy once again.

“Well now, Joseph – looks like they’re ready to fix you up,” Ben smiled down at his son.

“Pa?  Pa we made it, huh?” Joe whispered, his eyes fighting to focus up at his father.

“We sure did.  Now all we need to do is get you better,” Ben announced and then saw a man wearing a surgical mask approaching the table.

“I’m Doctor Vincent, Mister Cartwright.  I’m going to be tending to your son.”

Ben noticed that the surgeon was wearing some kind of gloves so he didn’t attempt to shake the man’s hand at the time.  “Just take care of my son – he’s my pride and joy.”

“I will – and I’ve got another surgeon who will be helping me with the operation.  We’re ready to begin.”

“Okay, Joseph – now they’ll give you something so that you won’t feel any pain.  I’ll see you in—.”  Ben paused, as he suddenly felt choked up with fear over how his son would make it through surgery as he looked so weak.

“I’ll see you in fifteen minutes, Pa,” Joe tried his best to smile up at his father to let him know that he was content to have gotten to the hospital and was leaving the outcome of the surgery to God now.

Pa bent forward and lightly kissed his son’s brow and whispered, “I love you – I’ll see you as soon as they’ve patched you up.”

Joe nodded and his voice, barely audible, responded, “I love you too, Pa –it’s going to be okay.”  He then watched as the doctor settled an ether mask over his nose and mouth.  The anesthesia was ready to be administered.

“Come on, Ben, Joseph is in the hands of our best surgeons,” Harold announced and then led the anxious father back outside of the operating room.  Pa cast one final glance at Joseph before the door was closed.  Just as before, Ben had tried his best and now it was time to once again turn his son’s fate over to God.

---

Harold Peele did his best to keep Ben calm during the long hours while Joe was being operated on.  He attempted to get the man to rest but there was no way that Ben Cartwright was going to try and lie down, not while Joseph’s life was on the line and he was in surgery.  Harold handed Ben his third cup of coffee as the two men waited just outside of the operating room.

“He’s been in there such a long time,” Ben addressed Harold.

“Joseph has an awful lot of infection going on in his body, Ben.  I’m sure both surgeons are trying their best,” Harold explained.

“You saw his injury, Harold — what do you think of his chances?”

Harold gave a tired smile and reached over and patted Ben’s arm, trying to offer what reassurance that he could.  “I’m too partial to answer that – you know how I feel about the boy. “

“But – as a doctor — what do you think?” Ben persisted.

“As a doctor I’d say that Joe is in the best place possible to get help.  He has the two top surgeons in this part of the country.  They have a lot of experience.  With that going for the boy – along with a lot of prayers – there’s a chance.”

Drawing out his pocket watch Ben stared down at it.  “He’s been in there almost three hours now.”

Before Harold could respond Doctor Vincent stepped out of surgery and approached both men.

“How did it go, Mark?” Harold asked as both he and Ben moved to stand next to the surgeon.

Doctor Vincent gave a tired sigh and then stared over at the boy’s father and said, “Your son is a pretty sick young man, Mister Cartwright.  We were able to remove a great deal of the infection and placed new drains in to hopefully take care of what remains.  After we opened up the wound we treated it with bromine – something that we’ve recently had a lot of success with in the fight to rid infection.  I am concerned due to how weak your son is, Mister Cartwright, but I’d say he has a fighting chance – which he didn’t have before now.”

Ben nodded and shook the surgeon’s hand.  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for my son, Doctor.  Can I see him?”

“We’re monitoring him right now – and will be doing that for another hour or so.  Harold, we’ll let you know when he’s ready to be moved into a room.   I best get back in there now, excuse me,” The surgeon explained and turned to go back into the operating room.

“Thank you, Mark,” Harold said and patted the man on the shoulder as he headed back inside.

“What do you think now?” Ben asked.

“I think Joseph comes from good stock,” Harold answered with a smile and continued to offer his friend hope.  “Once Joe is in his room I’ll check that incision – I’ll know more then.  But it sounds like those surgeons did their very best to save the boy.  He made it through the surgery – and that was a major hurdle, Ben.  You got him here as fast as you could and he got right in for surgery.  Now it’s up to Joe, and of course God.”

Ben drew in a deep breath and stared toward the operating room.  He just wanted to lay his eyes on his son again.  If he could just see Joseph he knew he’d feel a whole lot better.

Harold could tell what Ben was thinking.  “It won’t be long – they’ll bring him out just as soon as he’s stable.  At least the surgery is over now.  Let me get you some more coffee.”

“Sounds good, I guess I’ll walk with you this time,” Ben returned and the two men headed to the dispensary to get some badly needed coffee in order to stay awake.

---

Ben stared down at his youngest son lying in the hospital bed.  He looked so weak and Joe’s normally tanned face was pale and drawn.   The sight of it nearly took his father’s breath away.  Harold had checked Joe’s incision and they both could tell that the surgery had been extensive.  The original wound had been about four inches long but was now, due to the second attempt to rid Joe of the infection, almost seven inches in length.  Ben noticed the three new drains that were in the wound.  He was thankful that he wouldn’t have to tend those, especially after what he had done on the stagecoach three nights before.

A nurse entered the room and checked on her patient.  She had offered Ben a smile and a few reassuring words before she turned and walked back out into the corridor.  Harold had come and gone several times during the first four hours since Joe was placed in the room.  Always trying to sound upbeat, he had said that he thought Joe had done very well thus far.

The chair next to his son’s bed wasn’t as comfortable as the one where he usually sat there in Joseph’s bedroom back at the ranch.  Harold had offered him a couch in his office but Ben had refused.  He knew where he was needed and that was alongside his son.  Doctor Vincent had come into the room a little after midnight and checked on his patient.  Ben had hovered there over the man’s left shoulder as he inspected the wound and the drainage tubes.  He had told the anxious father that “so far so good” and that the drains seemed to be helping.  The doctor had reassured Ben that he’d be back to check on Joe’s progress first thing in the morning.  He had left instructions with all of the nurses on duty and told Ben that all he could do for his son right now was to offer him some water if he awoke during the night.  With all that said, Doctor Vincent had left and Ben resettled back down in the hard wooden chair.

A little past two a.m., right after Joe had received another injection for pain, Ben heard the faint sound coming from the bed.

“Joseph?” Ben whispered when his son began to moan a bit.  “Joe, can you hear me?  Open those eyes, Son.”

Fighting to return to consciousness, Joe’s eyelids fluttered a few times before he finally honed in on the man who sat just to the left side of his hospital bed.

“Pa?  Pa – did I have the surgery?” Joe asked, feeling a mite woozy and a bit disoriented.

Ben stood and placed the palm of his hand on his son’s head and smiled.  “Yes – yes and you did very well, Joseph.  You’ve got an extra drain in you and a bit bigger wound now – but you’re going to be okay.  Just settle back you need to lie still.”

Joe’s left hand sought out his incision but his father stopped its progress.

“No – you have to leave that alone for now.  You’ve got a lot of healing to do.”

Joe’s face winced from the increased pain following the surgery.  He stared up at his father.  “I told you I’d rather be at the beach than to be here at the hospital being carved on, Pa.”

Ben shook his head and laughed.  “Well – I don’t blame you for that!  The main thing is that we got you here in time and if you’ll take it easy the doctors think that you’re going to be fine – just fine, Joseph.”

“It was some race, huh, Pa?”

Pa nodded thinking back on the last three days in the stage as they had raced to get to the hospital.  “That it was, Joe!  But, you finished it – and that’s what counts.”

Joe took his father’s hand and corrected, “No, Pa – WE finished it!”

”You’re right, Son,” Ben smiled and ran his fingers through his son’s curly hair.  “We finished it.  Now you need to get some rest so close those eyes.”

“Thanks, Pa,” Joe whispered.  “I really thought I wasn’t going to make it this time.  I was so afraid of dying on you – so worried that I wouldn’t finish the race.  If it hadn’t been for you I’d never have made it here.”

“I might have helped a bit – but it was your own willpower and a whole lot of help from God that pulled you through this time,” Pa insisted.

Joe nodded and replied, “I guess heaven wasn’t ready for me – or hell didn’t want me yet.”

“Go to sleep,” Pa returned grinning.  He could tell that his son had to be feeling at least a little better by his use of humor.

Settling back against the pillows Joe closed his eyes and fell off into a deep sleep.  His father watched and shook his head in wonderment.  There had been so many days spent worried over whether his son would live long enough to get to the hospital and the dreaded fear over the infection which had ravaged his boy’s body.  There were also many times that Ben was sure he would lose his youngest that he couldn’t count them all, nor did he want to.  He had cleaned and replaced drains, given numerous injections and fought to keep his son from falling into despair.  Now, staring down at Joseph all he could do was to shake his head and smile at him.   He should have known the kid was going to pull through no matter that the odds had been against him surviving the long trip.   It was, of course, Joseph after all!

---

Epilogue

Joe Cartwright’s recovery was a lot longer than anyone had expected and he had spent weeks inside of his hospital room.  Doctor Vincent had warned both Joe and his father that it would be a slow go of it due to how badly the infection had ravaged the boy’s body.  The doctors and nurses provided all of the badly needed medical care while both his father and Harold Peele provided all of the reassurance and tender loving care that Joe needed during the very long recuperative period.

Ben had wired everyone who had assisted him in getting his son to the hospital, including Jim Griffin with the Overland Stage Company, to thank them and tell them all of his son’s progress.  He had even taken a little shopping trip one afternoon, once he knew Joe was in the capable hands of his uncle, and bought two new coach whips to send to both Jed and Thomas, the two drivers who had gotten them delivered right to the front door of the hospital, now four weeks prior.

Ben had heard back from Hoss, and his middle son sent his love to his little brother in the wire and had assured Pa that all was well back at the Ponderosa.  Adam’s wire had come right after Hoss’ and he also had wished his youngest brother a speedy recovery and informed his father that he’d be coming back home very soon.  Doctor Paul Martin had wired, of course, and had teased Ben telling him that he was cutting in on his business by performing all of the patient care on the long stagecoach trip.  Paul had passed along his well wishes and told Ben to reprimand Joe good for him for not having taken care of his wound in the first place.  Pa had handed each wire to Joe and the boy had gotten a good laugh at what Doc Martin had written.

Doctor Harold Peele had been the one, who several years prior, had assisted Joe Cartwright out of his morphine habit and addiction.  Now it was a matter of going through somewhat the same process as the young man healed from his injury.  By the time Joe’s wound was healed well enough that the drains had been removed, Harold had begun the gradual decrease in the administering of the morphine which had been used to control his pain.  Joe was well aware of the side effects which would happen with the withdrawal, but he was able to handle it all once again.  He was thankful that he had his father there by his side to help in all of that this go-round.  Pa knew and Pa understood and that would make all of the difference.

---

Six weeks to the day that Joe had been brought to the hospital he was finally released to the care of Doctor Harold Peele.  Both Harold and Ben had assisted Joe into the carriage which took the three men, along with his manservant Robert, back to the doctor’s house there in San Francisco.  Harold and Ben slowly and with great care brought Joe inside and settled him onto a couch in the main living room.

“You’ve gotten those drains and the sutures out, Joseph, but remember what we’ve all cautioned you regarding that wound,” Harold said as he placed a blanket over his nephew.

“I’m being good – right Pa?” Joe smiled over at his father, who still looked worried.

“That’ll be the day!” Ben quipped and sat down in a chair opposite his son.

“Hey I’ve been a good patient for months!” Joe argued and watched his father rolling his eyes at him.

“It hasn’t been months it’s been six weeks and you didn’t have much of a choice this time, Joseph!   You had drains poking out of you.  But – ever since Harold told you that you’d get to go home tomorrow I’ve had a time keeping you down,” Ben returned.  He looked over as Harold handed him a glass of brandy for his nerves.

“Well — I guess I am kinda anxious to get on home,” Joe nodded.  “Hey – you got any of that for me Uncle Harold?” Joe referred to the brandy.

Harold laughed as he poured his own drink and settled down next to Ben.  “You are cut off from any liquor – you remember what your surgeon said, Joseph.  If you’ll just take things slow you shouldn’t need any more pain killer either.”

“Okay,” Joe nodded and grinned over at his father and uncle.  “I know I’ve put you both through a lot, I won’t protest for a while.”

“Ben, let’s go check on dinner and your son needs to close his eyes for a bit,” Harold announced as he set his emptied glass on the table.

Ben stood next to the doctor and cast a wary look down at his son.

“I’m not saying a word, I told you I’m not going to cause any more problems,” Joe remarked after seeing the way his father was staring at him.

“Good, now close those eyes and we’ll wake you when dinner is ready,” Pa smiled as he watched Joe lay his head back on the arm of the sofa.  He could tell that his son’s compliance was no doubt due to the fact that he was feeling very well spent at the time.

“Let’s go have a talk about your trip, Ben,” Harold whispered when he noticed Joe had fallen right off to sleep.

“Yes – the trip home – and then we can figure out our plans for tonight’s events,” Ben replied and walked into the next room along with the doctor.

---

Joe was extremely happy that his uncle had apparently talked his father into allowing him to go on a carriage ride with him that evening just before dusk.  He figured that Harold wanted to have a little time alone with him before he’d be saying goodbye to him the next day.  The two Cartwrights would be heading back to Virginia City on the noon stage and they were unsure when they’d next get to see the man who they had come to know as both a friend and a relative over the years.  Joe figured that his father was busy making last minute plans for the trip back home and packing which was the reason he hadn’t objected to being left behind there at Harold’s house right after they had eaten an early dinner.

“Right about here, Robert,” Harold called to his manservant who had driven the carriage.  Robert pulled over on a small road overlooking the ocean.  He tied the reins down to the carriage’s foot board and waited for instructions.

“Pa must’ve said something to you about me wanting to get let off at the ocean instead of there at your hospital, huh?” Joe grinned over at his uncle when he noticed where they had stopped.

“Oh?  Did you want to come here, Joseph?” Harold asked, feigning ignorance over his nephew’s earlier request.

Joe laughed and replied, “Uncle Harold, you don’t have a good poker face.  Okay what did Pa say?”

“I said that you wanted to sit on the beach and watch the sunset,” Came the voice from the man who had approached the carriage.

Joe turned to see his father standing there alongside of them.  “Pa?  How did you get here?” He asked surprised by the sudden appearance.

“I have my ways,” Ben replied cryptically and reached his hand into the carriage.  “Come down from there carefully, Joseph.”

Joe looked at Harold and heard him laugh at the surprised expression that his nephew wore.

“Your father said that you deserved to watch the sunset after all that you’ve gone through.  Robert and I’ll be back in about two hours.  That should give you both enough time.”

“Don’t you want to come with us?” Joe asked, as he didn’t want his uncle to feel left out.

“I’ve got to stop by the hospital, Joseph.  It’s fine.  You and your father go and enjoy yourselves.  We’ll do it on your next visit.”

Joe nodded over to Harold as he carefully stepped down out of the carriage.

“We’ll be back around eight, Ben,” Harold smiled over at both of the men and called for Robert to continue over to the hospital.

“Well?  Are you ready, Joseph?”

“I’ve been ready for about six weeks, Pa!  Let’s go!”

“Slowly,” Pa returned sternly.

“Slowly,” Joe nodded obediently and made his way down to the seashore.

Ben spread out a blanket which Harold had given him before he had Robert drop him off earlier.  He helped ease his son down into a sitting position being careful of his injury which was still healing.

Both father and son sat there on the beach and watched the brilliant sunset.  They could hear the calls of seagulls and the sounds of the waves as they crashed onto the shore.

“I told you this would be better than getting carved on, Pa,” Joe smiled over at his father.

“Yes, you told me, Joseph – only a couple hundred times,” Ben nodded.

“It’s peaceful isn’t it — after all that we went through?”

“Yes – and much better than being in a hospital.”

“We’ll get to see some stars before Harold comes for us too, huh, Pa?”

“Yes, we’ll see stars,” Pa nodded, amused to hear the excitement in his son’s voice.  He felt like Joe deserved to enjoy himself a bit after having endured so much due to his injury.

“And you’ve got to tell me more stories of your seafaring days too, Pa.  Remember?”

“Yes, Joseph, I remember.”

“How about telling me all about that time when your ship was taken over by pirates?”

Ben shook his head and placed his arm over Joe’s shoulder.  “Now we went through that already.  That was one of your tall tales, Joseph.”

Joe’s laughter filled the air and he replied, “I know – I was just kidding.  Now how about more stories about some of the boats you commanded?”

“Ships,” Ben corrected with a sigh.

“I know – I know, Pa,” Joe grinned.  “So tell me some stories about the ships you commanded.

“Look there!” Ben pointed out towards the sunset.  “That’s a two masted schooner.  Can you see it right there on the line where the sea meets the sky?”

Joe’s eyes followed his father’s finger and he saw the ship that was just about to disappear from sight.  “Yeah, Pa, I see it.  How can you tell what kind of ship it is from this far away?”

Ben grinned and stared over at his son.  “I’m a captain, remember?” He laughed.

“Oh –yeah, I guess that was a stupid question.  Hey there’s a sailboat not far behind that schooner!” Joe pointed.

Ben squinted and replied, “Good eyes, Joseph, I almost missed that one.”

“Okay — now the stories, Pa,” Joe insisted, smiling as he eased back onto the blanket.

“Well, there was this one time I was put in command of a three-masted clipper out of Portsmouth,” Ben began to tell the story of one of his many adventures.  Joe listened in rapt attention and amusement as his father told several tales about his career as a clipper captain.  He could hear the wistfulness in his Pa’s voice and it made him happy that his father had the chance to relive his experiences sitting there next to him.

Joe and Ben sat there on the beach as the sun went down and the stars came up.  Pa pointed out different constellations to Joe and explained how he had navigated using them during his days at sea.  The young man did more listening and less talking, enjoying the one on one time there with his Pa.  During their rushed trip into San Francisco Joe hadn’t thought he’d ever get another chance to hear his father’s tales nor spend time with him.  It had caused him to realize how precious time was and Joe wanted to savor each and every minute of it now with his Pa sitting there next to him.

“Joseph?” Ben asked for the second time, not having gotten any response from the boy.

“Oh – sorry, Pa – what were you saying?”

“I was asking you if you were doing okay sitting there like that.  You know – that wound of yours — is it holding up okay?  Do you want to get up and move around a bit?”

“No – no, Pa – I’m fine.” Joe nodded, quite contented at the time.

“You’ve been pretty quiet – I guess I’ve been doing most of the talking.  You shouldn’t have gotten me started on my stories about being a clipper captain!  Harold will be here in just a bit, and I guess you’re tired of hearing about my seafaring days by now, huh?” Ben asked as he patted his son’s shoulder.

“I like your stories.  How about just one more, Pa?”

“I know – I know exactly which one,” Ben nodded and smiled over at his son.

Joe leaned against his father’s shoulder and waited to hear the last story of the evening and the final one he’d be hearing there at the ocean for a long while.

“Alright, Joseph, I was in command of a three-masted clipper out of Boston and we were headed down to Bermuda when we were boarded by pirates,” he began.

Joe laughed, “I knew it really happened – go on, Pa!”

Amused, Ben shook his head and then went on to fabricate a story about pirates to appease his youngest.   He figured Joe had earned it by surviving yet another life and death situation.

“The end,” Ben finally finished his story about the pirates which had never really boarded any of the ships he had sailed.

“Thanks, Pa,” Joe whispered gratefully.

“It’s about that time, Harold should be here soon, let me help you up,” Ben insisted as he reached for Joe’s elbow and pulled him to standing.

“It’s been an interesting trip to San Francisco, huh Pa?” Joe said as he helped him shake out the blanket and then watched as Pa folded it.

“Interesting would be an understatement,” Pa nodded.

“Well I’ve learned a lot,” Joe commented as they slowly walked up toward where their ride would soon meet them.

“Oh – what have you learned, Son?  Other than you shouldn’t ever neglect a cut of course.”

“I learned that you can fib pretty good when you want to, Pa,” Joe laughed.  “First, with your little performance in the stage when you insisted you’d lost all of your strength and tonight with your pirate story!”

“Coming from you I’ll take that as a compliment,” Ben chuckled..

“No – but seriously I learned that you can fight the good fight and all, but without people to help you – like those drivers who got us here –and of course my Pa – I would never have finished the race.”

“Don’t forget keeping the faith, Joseph,” Ben paused and stared directly at his son.

“Yes, Sir – that’s what got us here, I know,” Joe nodded.

Ben draped his arm across his son’s shoulder and smiled.  “You learned a great deal this trip, Joseph.”

“Yes, I learned a lot, Pa, including the fact that next year I should go to Arizona while Hoss stays home and handles the fencing wire!”

Ben laughed and ruffled his son’s hair.  “Good plan,” He nodded and the two of them headed towards Harold’s carriage.

The End

Written by: Wrangler 7-5-2025

*** This story was originally set to post on July 1, 2025, to honor Michael Landon’s courage during his brave battle with pancreatic cancer, but I delayed it in order to post the comedy “Morpheus” since he wanted to be remembered with laughter. ***

(Dedicated to Rob the story consultant, an expert on bandits, and Krishna Michael, my grandson, the expert on ships and pirates. And Rosalyn for her input & Carm for her love of “Uncle Dr. Harold.)

“Whatever It Takes” contains the original storyline about Joe’s morphine addiction.