Summary:  Joe stuns his family when he joins the Army.

Rated: T (22,790 words)

To Terri, thank you for a wonderful idea and an equally wonderful friendship.

A Question of Honor

The horse’s hooves thrummed a steady beat on the earthen path that led to the sprawling ranch house. As he rode, Joe Cartwright’s thoughts raced frantically. He planned his speech, marshaling his arguments like a general planning a battle. He tried to anticipate every objection in order to have a counterattack in mind. But as he approached the ranch house that had been his home for all of his twenty-two years, the thoughts disappeared from his mind, like smoke on the wind, leaving him with only a vague sense of unease.

 

Slowing his horse to a walk and entering the yard at a sedate pace, just as his father liked him to do, Joe dismounted and tied the pinto to the hitching rail in front of the house. His steps lagged as he headed for the front door, a fluttering sense of unease developing in the pit of his stomach. Quietly he opened the door and pushed his way into the great room, removing his hat and gunbelt out of long habit, carefully placing both in their designated spots. A quick glance at the hat rack showed him that both of his brothers and his father were home. Joe sighed. He had hoped that Adam and Hoss would still be out. He didn’t relish facing his entire family all at once.

 

“Is that you, Joe?” Ben Cartwright’s baritone voice called from his desk, the welcoming note bringing a queasy smile to his son’s lips.

 

“Yeah, it’s me, Pa!” Joe called, and he began the walk toward that desk, his stride so unlike his usual springy bounce across a room that Ben knew right away that his youngest son had something on his mind.

 

Ben looked up expectantly, a warm smile on his lips. Just the sight of Joe made him smile these days. Joe had lived through a turbulent adolescence, but he seemed to be maturing with fits and starts. Ben chuckled inwardly at the thought of how many of the gray hairs on his head he could attribute to his most volatile son. The past three months had been so peaceful that Ben knew it was time for an explosion of some sort. He could tell by Joe’s walk that the explosion was about to happen, and he braced himself for the onslaught. His eyes bright with expectation, he allowed the silence to build, knowing he was driving Joe to a fever pitch of anxiety. “Want to tell me about it, son?” he asked finally, a knowing smile playing about his lips.

 

Joe gasped in astonishment. “How do you always know, Pa?” he asked ruefully, his hands on his hips in exasperation. “I can’t keep anything from you!”

 

Ben laughed, the booming sound bringing Hoss in from the kitchen and Adam down the stairs. Joe swallowed anxiously as his brothers moved across the room to join the group. He felt Hoss’s large hand clap him on the back, the blow almost propelling him across his father’s desk.

 

“It’s about time ya’ got home, Short Shanks,” Hoss said jovially. “Hop Sing’s been fussin’ about supper for half an hour now. He said if you weren’t home in ten minutes he was goin’ back to China!” The men laughed at the old joke; they all knew that Hop Sing wasn’t going anywhere.

 

Joe patted Hoss’s large stomach. “I think you could stand to miss a few of Hop Sing’s meals, big brother,” he quipped, ducking away from Hoss’s feint in his direction.

 

Adam smiled at the antics of his younger brothers, and as he moved to perch on the edge of the desk, he asked quietly, “Did you hear any news in town, Joe? I’ve heard there’s some trouble with some of the local tribes.”

 

Joe lost his sense of merriment, as he thought about what he had to say to his family, and he ducked his head sheepishly. “Not much new in town, Adam,” he said quietly, and then taking a deep breath, he added, “I’ve got some news of my own though.”

 

Ben’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “Oh really, Joe, what news is that.” Ben quaked inwardly. He knew that whatever Joe had to say wasn’t going to make him happy. Joe’s agitation since he had entered the house telegraphed his words to anyone who knew him.

 

 

Joe’s eyes were huge in his expressive face. “I…I’ve joined the army, Pa,” he stammered out in a rush, determined to get it over with.

 

If Joe had announced that he had set fire to the sheriff’s office and then proceeded to dance a war dance on the carpet, he couldn’t have shocked his family any more. Three men stood frozen, as if they were carved in stone. Hoss’s jaw had dropped, and his mouth was hanging open, while Adam frowned severely. He glanced at Ben’s white face, and saw his father’s clenched knuckles. “Come on, Joe. That’s not funny,” he said sternly. “You’re upsetting Pa.”

 

Hoss began to laugh hysterically, his huge hand slapping at his knee as he shook with mirth. “Oh that was a good one, Short Shanks!” he gasped finally. “Joined the army!” Hoss wiped tears from his eyes as his laughter continued uncontrollably.

 

Joe gulped, and then, knowing that he had no choice, he spoke to the silent man who stared at him in shock. “I’m sorry, Pa, I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that. But, I’ve joined the army. There was a recruiter in town, and I signed up with him. I’ll be leaving at the end of the week to report for duty.”

 

Hoss’s laughter died abruptly as he realized that Joe wasn’t joking. “Joe, this ain’t funny,” he said as he moved to shake Joe’s slender shoulders. “You cain’t join the army. What about the Ponderosa and your work here?”

 

Adam rose from the desk, towering over his youngest brother’s slight form. “You’re just going to have to tell them that you’re not joining any army, Joe. We need you here.”

 

Joe ignored his brothers and focused on his father, who had yet to speak a word. He grimaced at the sight of his father’s pale face, but he plunged onwards, knowing he had to get it all out. “I’m sorry, Pa! It all happened so fast. I knew that I wouldn’t have a chance to talk to you before I signed up, but the recruiter needed a decision right away.” Joe’s voice trailed off, and his eyes pleaded for his father to say something.

 

 

Ben moved then. He paced around the desk, Hoss and Adam parting before him, and Joe flinched as his father reached out for him. Ben’s eyes were hard with anger, but his touch was restrained. “I think I need to hear more of an explanation, Joseph,” he said softly, but his voice left no room for disobedience. “What’s this all about? Why have you done something like this without talking to your family first?”

 

Joe’s eyes dropped, and he tried to move away from his father, but Ben’s grip was like iron. “Well, Pa, I went into town for the mail, and I ran into this army recruiter. He was so convincing Pa.” Joe’s tone was pleading, his eyes begged for his father’s understanding. “They need good men, they’re really short handed right now, and, well……” Joe stopped, his left hand moving to pry at the fingers that were gripping his arm. In the morning he would find a bruise on that arm that would take weeks to fade.

 

Ben’s body quivered with suppressed anger. “Well, you’re just going to have to go into town and tell this recruiter that you’ve changed your mind, Joseph. You can’t join the army. We need you here.”

 

“I can’t, Pa.” Joe’s voice was quiet, his body taut with anxiety. “I’ve signed a contract, and the recruiter told me that it was binding by law.” Again he reached to touch his father and cringed as Ben shook him off.

 

“Then, I’ll ride into town and have a talk with this so called recruiter,” Adam stated with some satisfaction. “He’ll tear up that contract when I’ve finished with him.”

 

Hoss nodded vigorously. “Yeah, jest let me get my hands on that fella. He’ll let Joe outta the army so fast it’ll make his head swim.”

 

“No!” Joe’s voice was rising, and he fought for control. “I’ve made this decision, and no one is going to interfere. I’m over twenty-one and I’m legally an adult. If I want to join the army, I can join the army.”

 

Ben turned on his son, using his height to his own advantage. “I’m asking you to change your mind, Little Joe.” Ben’s voice was quiet, his eyes dark with an inner pain. “I don’t want you to leave the Ponderosa.”

 

Joe winced at the naked feeling on his father’s face. “I can’t change my mind, Pa. I’m sorry.” The simple words hung quivering in the air, the battle lines drawn between the two men.

 

Hop Sing barged into the room, his singsong voice stridently calling them to order. “Dinner on table, Cartwrights eat now!”

He stopped seeing the four tense men, and knew that he had stepped into the middle of one of the family’s major disagreements. Looking at Joe’s white face and wide eyes, he knew instantly who had caused the uproar and his heart sank. Hop Sing had helped raise Little Joe from babyhood, and the boy had a huge place in the little man’s heart. In an effort to ease the palpable tension in the room, Hop Sing again ordered his family to the table. Getting no response from anyone, not even his faithful Hoss, the Oriental man shook his head and stalked back to the kitchen, a trail of Chinese wafting through the air in his wake.

 

Hop Sing’s arrival broke the Cartwrights out of the trance that had kept them still. Ben sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. “I knew the peace and quiet was too good to last,” he muttered. “Let’s eat and talk about this again after dinner.”

 

Joe felt his stomach lurch. “I’m not hungry, Pa. I’m just going to go on up to bed,” he said quietly. Then he turned on his heels, fleeing the room, all the while feeling like a coward for not being able to face his father’s pain.

 

Three stunned and silent men watched the boots fly up the stairs, and listened until they heard the door to Joe’s bedroom slam shut. Turning back to each other then, they silently made their way to the dinner table and Hop Sing’s elaborate meal. The little cook was doomed to be disappointed that evening, as most of the dishes were sent back to the kitchen untouched.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Ben Cartwright rode toward Virginia City in a fury. His face was set in a scowl, and his eyes were grim. His mission was to find the Army recruiter who had persuaded Little Joe to sign a contract. Breakfast at the ranch had been a bitter affair. Little Joe had been sullen and argumentative; he was clearly feeling defensive about his decision. His brothers had alternated between scolding and cajoling their brother, which had added to Joe’s sour mood. Ben had tried persuasion and then threats. Little Joe remained unmoved. He had signed a contract and he was going to live with his decision for good or ill. After a plea for his family’s understanding, Joe had stormed out of the house, leaving for a solitary day of riding fence. It hadn’t escaped Ben’s notice that Joe looked grateful to be getting out of his family’s sight for a while.

 

The town came into view and Ben rode straight for the Sheriff’s office in the center of town. If anyone knew where to find the Army recruiter it would be Roy Coffee. Roy didn’t miss much that happened in his town. Roy Coffee looked up from his paper-strewn desk with a welcoming smile when his oldest friend walked into the office. His smile dimmed as he took in Ben’s grim face and enraged eyes.

 

“Trouble, Ben?” he asked, coming quickly to his feet and moving around the desk.

 

Ben planted his large frame in front of the sheriff. “I need to know where I can find an Army recruiter who was in town yesterday, Roy. The man talked Little Joe into joining the army!” Ben’s hands clenched into fists, and his knuckles showed white.

 

A look of sheer astonishment flickered across the sheriff’s face. “Little Joe joined the Army?” he asked incredulously. “Why on earth would the boy want to go and do a thing like, Ben?”

 

Ben’s fisted hands moved to his hips and he glared at the Sheriff. “If I knew that Roy, I wouldn’t be here in town talking to you, now would I?” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s why I need to find this recruiter. I need to talk some sense into him and get him to rip up Little Joe’s contract.”

 

Roy shook his head ruefully. “I’m sorry, Ben, but that recruiter fella rode out of town last night. He said his troop was waitin’ for ‘im just outside of town. You ain’t gonna find him anytime soon.”

 

Ben’s face took on a look of carved stone. “Do you know which way they were heading? Which town were they going to visit next?” Ben’s feet began to pace out a rhythmic pattern on the office floor.

 

Roy leaned against his cluttered desk, and gazed with concern at his friend. “He didn’t say, Ben. I wish I could help. But I didn’t think it was important at the time.”

 

Ben’s sigh echoed through the room. “You wouldn’t have any way of knowing, Roy. I’m not blaming you. I guess I’ll have to ride to the fort with Little Joe when he ‘reports for duty’, as he calls it. I’ll find some way to get him out of this.”

 

Roy shook his head. If Little Joe Cartwright had decided to join the army, then his father was going to have a hard time getting him to change his mind. Roy had watched the struggles between father and son since Joe was a little boy. He wouldn’t bet a nickel on Ben’s chances of winning this one. He walked Ben to the door, his arm across his friend’s shoulders. With a parting murmur of comfort, he watched as Ben mounted his horse to begin the long ride back to the Ponderosa. With a sigh, Roy turned and made his way back to his desk, but this time he sat without looking at his paperwork. He could imagine all too well the scene that was going to play out on the Ponderosa, and he was glad that he wasn’t going to be out there to be part of it.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Joe’s last week at home flew by in a blur. His family alternated between threats of locking him in his room and bouts of sadness at his coming departure. Joe spent some time packing a few things and saying goodbye to his friends. When at last he was ready to go, his father and brothers gathered with him in the Great Room of the Ponderosa.

 

Ben had spent the intervening week sending telegrams to everyone he knew. He was disheartened when they all confirmed that Joe was legally an adult and entitled to enlist in the army if he chose to do so. There was nothing his father could do, or say, about it. Ben was still against the idea of Joe leaving, but he was determined that Joe wouldn’t go away on bad terms with his family. As he looked at his youngest son, a small valise in his hand, descending the steps, Ben’s heart lurched in his chest. He struggled to keep the grief from his face, but he couldn’t make himself smile.

Joe looked at his father with both pity and understanding. He felt guilty for putting his family through the turmoil of his leaving, but he was convinced that he had made the right decision. He couldn’t back down now. It wasn’t in his nature to give up so easily. With a sigh, Joe approached his father. “I’ll be home for a visit as soon as I get leave, Pa. I promise,” Joe said softly. He gazed steadily at the older man, and was relieved when his father gathered him into a fierce embrace.

 

“I wish you weren’t going, Joe,” Ben whispered against his son’s hair. Pulling back to look into a pair of green eyes that were shadowed with sorrow, he tried to speak calmly. “Stay safe, Joe. You know I’ve been against your decision from the beginning, but you’re an adult now, and entitled to go where you want to go. But please remember, that this will always be your home, and we’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

 

Joe grabbed his father’s forearm and nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Pa. I know this isn’t easy for you. I’m going to miss you.”

 

Joe turned to his brothers, who stood watching the scene with frustration evident in every line of their bodies. Approaching Adam, Joe reached out for a handshake, only to be swept into Adam’s open arms. “Come back soon, Kid,” Adam said softly, and then he turned abruptly aside, surreptitiously wiping at his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

 

Hoss crowded in to take Adam’s place, throwing a beefy arm around Joe’s shoulders. “Yeah, Short Shanks, you lissen to your big brother, y’hear. We want you home soon. Ya got a ton of chores that’re gonna pile up while you’re gone.” His hug almost squeezed the breath out of Joe’s body. “And don’t be thinkin’ that Ol’ Adam an’ I are gonna do ‘em for ya, either.”

 

Joe grinned, “I’ll be back soon, brother. I promise.” He strode for the door, determined to make the parting as brief as possible. He’d already asked his family not to accompany him to the Fort, fully aware of the scene that Ben Cartwright could make if he chose. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

 

 

Three men stood frozen in place for a brief moment, and then Ben sank into his favorite chair, a shaky hand going to his forehead. Adam moved quickly to his side, and crouched next to his father, easily balancing on his heels. “He’ll be back soon, Pa. You’ll see,” he said with a forced confidence. “Joe’s a tough kid, the army isn’t going to know what hit them.”

 

Ben looked at his oldest son gratefully. “Thanks, Adam,” he murmured. He heaved a sigh and then levered himself to his feet, his movements suddenly seeming slow and old. “Well, there’s work to do, boys. Let’s get at it.”

 

The three men moved for the door and the start of another day on the Ponderosa.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Joe eased himself onto his bunk with a groan. His muscles screamed a protest, until he positioned himself on the bed. The cessation of movement brought blessed relief to his abused body. Since his arrival at the Fort two weeks earlier, he had been drilled morning, noon and night. The Sergeant in charge of the new recruits seemed to delight in taunting “the rich kid” who had recently arrived in his platoon. He apparently felt that Joe was dabbling in the army because he was bored with his elegant life as the son of one of the richest men in the territory. No amount of hard work on Joe’s part disabused the man of his notion, and he continued to work Joe twice as hard as any of the new men. Joe moaned a little as his muscles twinged again, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind. He was determined to show the Sergeant that he didn’t know what Joe Cartwright was made of, and he was too proud to show weakness in front of his fellow soldiers.

 

Just as Joe’s thoughts turned in that direction, he heard the sounds of boots entering the barracks, and knew that the rest of his troop was arriving back from the mess hall. The ribald shouts and raucous laughter swirled around him, but while he smiled at some of the comments, he didn’t join in with the banter. He closed his eyes, and sent his thought winging back to the Ponderosa, a picture forming in his mind. He could almost see his father and brothers seated around the dining table, with Hop Sing chatting in Chinese, while the events of the day were discussed. A pang of homesickness twisted through his body, so sharp he drew a ragged breath.

 

So engrossed was he in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the approach of a pair of booted feet. He grunted painfully when those boots swiped at his legs, his eyes flying open to see a large man lowering himself to Joe’s bunk. “Hey, Cartwright, you looked pretty good out there today,” the man commented. “For a rich kid.” A chuckle took away the sting of the words, and Joe smiled.

 

“Thanks, Thompson.” Joe’s glance was friendly. He sat up painfully, clutching at his aching stomach muscles as he did so. “I just wish the Sergeant would think so, and lay off me for a while.”

 

Steve Thompson was a big man who reminded Joe of his brother, Hoss. He had a ready laugh and was always willing to commiserate with Joe at the end of a long day of training. Thompson had worked cattle for several of the ranches in the territory, and he and Joe could spend hours discussing the merits of the horses at the various ranches they had both visited. It felt good to have someone to talk to, and Joe felt his homesickness recede just a little at the sight of the man’s cheerful face.

 

Thompson’s friendly smile faded just a little as he considered Joe’s last comment. “Watch out for the Sergeant, Joe,” he warned. “Roberts sure seems to have it in for you.”

 

Joe nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I could tell. He can’t get past the fact that my last name is Cartwright.”

 

Thompson slapped Joe on the back, chuckling at the wince of pain he elicited. “Well, we all know that the name Cartwright means “rich, lazy kid” don’t we?”

 

Joe scowled in mock anger and playfully punched Thompson’s shoulder. “Yeah, well, I’d hate to tell you what the name Thompson means. It might hurt your feelings.”

 

Thompson’s reply was lost in the sudden rustle of men jumping to their feet. Sergeant Roberts strode through the room for his last inspection of the day, and he frowned to see Joe struggling to his feet. “Cartwright,” he barked. “Ten-hut!”

 

Joe snapped to attention, his hand rising stiffly in salute. He stood in the accepted stance, his eyes focused on a point just past the Sergeant’s shoulder. “Yessir!” he snapped crisply in reply.

 

“You’re slow to get up, soldier,” the Sergeant snarled. “I expect instant attention when I walk in the room. Take twenty laps around the parade ground before you turn in for the night.” He smirked at the horror-struck expression on Joe’s face. “Do it now, soldier, or I’ll make in forty laps.”

 

With a resigned look back at Thompson, Joe marched his weary body out to the parade ground and began to run the ordered laps. His whole body ached with weariness, and his muscles shrieked in protest, but he kept at it doggedly. He deliberately turned off the part of his mind that focused on his physical body, and allowed himself to picture Lake Tahoe at sunset, a fishing pole in his hands and his brother Hoss at his side. His legs automatically followed the set pattern, while Joe’s every thought yearned for home.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Adam entered the ranch house on silent feet. He laid his gunbelt in its accustomed spot, and noted that his father and brother were home. He sighed as he thought of the missing member of his family. The house had seemed so silent and still without Little Joe. Hoss had been moping for the last month, and Ben Cartwright was a shadow of his former self. Adam squared his shoulders, determined to shake his family out of the doldrums, even if the news he bore wasn’t good.

 

“Pa! Hoss!” he called out. “Where is everybody?” Adam quickly strode across the room, heading for Hop Sing’s kitchen. He almost collided with the large body of his younger brother as Hoss barreled around the corner.

 

“What’s all the shouting about, Adam?” Hoss asked eagerly. “Have you brought us a letter from Little Joe?”

 

 

Adam smiled affectionately at the larger man. “No, I’m afraid not, Hoss. I picked up the mail, but there was nothing from that little scamp. He’s probably too busy marching with the other soldiers to write to his family.” He looked around searchingly. “Where’s Pa?”

 

Hoss shrugged his shoulders, his eyes losing some of their brightness at the lack of a letter from Joe. “He’s around here somewhere, older brother. What are you so riled up about, Adam?”

 

Adam frowned and rubbed a hand through his dark hair. “I heard some news in town and I thought you’d both be interested in hearing it. I’ll go see if I can find Pa.”

“I’m right behind you, son.” The deep voice came from behind Adam, and he jumped slightly.

 

As he wheeled around to see his father advancing across the room, Adam was once again struck by the changes in his father in the last month. Ben seemed to have aged ten years since Little Joe had joined the army. Ben never complained, but Adam knew he was missing Little Joe terribly. A sudden wave of guilt washed across Adam as he realized that perhaps Ben had felt the same way during his years away at college. Adam smiled a greeting at the older man, as he reached into his vest pocket to produce a sheaf of letters.

 

“I brought the mail from town, Pa.” He shook his head quickly to forestall the question. “No, there’s nothing from Joe.” As Adam spoke, he moved across the room to the decanter of whiskey, pouring three glasses without asking if the others wanted one.

 

Ben raised his eyebrows as he accepted the drink from Adam’s hand. “You seem a little on edge, Adam. What’s going on?”

 

Adam quickly handed Hoss the second glass of whiskey, and then picked up his own. “I heard some news today, and I thought we should talk about it.” He took a sip of his drink and continued. “The whole town’s buzzing about the latest rash of incidents with the Indians. It seems that several of the outlying small ranches have been hit by raiding parties. Winnemucca claims that they aren’t his braves, but no one is sure how much the chief really knows.”

 

Hoss whistled appreciatively at the news. “Is everyone on those ranches all right?” he asked soberly.

 

Adam shook his head gravely. “Someone’s been selling guns to the Indians. The raiding parties have all been well armed with the latest rifles. Bob Henderson and several of his hands were killed.”

 

Ben’s forehead furrowed in thought, and he looked at his sons’ gravely. “I think I need to make a trip out to see Winnemucca,” he said slowly. “He probably knows more than he’s letting on. Even if these aren’t his braves, he must know that allowing the young men of the tribes to buy guns can only lead to trouble. The soldiers at the Fort won’t hesitate to move against the Indians, if they think it’ll stop the gun trade.”

 

A momentary stab of alarm pierced through the older man as he realized that should the Army move against the Indians, Little Joe would most likely be in on the action. Ben chided himself silently for worrying needlessly. Little Joe was a man now, and had made the decision to join the Army. He would be able to take care of himself. All the same, Ben uttered a silent prayer that Little Joe wouldn’t see any fighting so soon in his new career.

 

Adam was watching Ben carefully, his father’s thoughts transparent to his eye. “I thought you might want to go out to see Winnemucca, Pa,” Adam said quietly. “I’ll ride along with you. We need to get this situation under control quickly. The people in town are ready to go out and start shooting anything that even looks like an Indian.”

Hoss grinned. “You two ain’t goin’ nowhere without me along to watch out for you. I’ll ride along with you too, Pa.” The big man clapped his father on the back, making him choke on his drink. “You guys ain’t gonna get to have all the fun.”

 

Adam smiled to see the spark of happiness return to his brother’s eyes. It had been too long since he’d seen that big grin. Maybe this crisis would be just the thing they needed to get their minds off Little Joe. “I guess we’ll be riding out in the morning then,” he said, glancing at his father for confirmation.

 

Ben nodded abstractedly, his mind already working on the problem that was facing the community. His friendship with Winnemucca had averted problems with the Indians on several occasions. He hoped that this would be another time when the Chief could be reasoned with. Before the men could discuss the situation further, Hop Sing announced dinner and stridently demanded that his family sit down and eat. Moving toward the table, the conversation about the mysterious influx of guns into the territory continued. The melancholy thoughts about Little Joe had been temporarily banished from the Ponderosa.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Little Joe slumped over the metal plate that contained an unappetizing mixture that the army cook called dinner. He listlessly stirred his fork through the contents, but never raised it to his mouth. He jumped when a large hand slapped him heartily on the shoulder, and then looked up to smile miserably at Steve Thompson as he slid into the chair next to him.

 

A look of compassion crossed the older man’s face, but he quickly buried it in a warm smile. “What’s wrong, cowboy?” he asked briefly. “The Sarge gettin’ you down?”

 

Joe nodded tiredly. “Yeah, just between you and me, this army life is a lot tougher than I thought it would be.” He shook his head in disgust. “And that Sergeant’s attitude doesn’t help matters. He acts like he wants me to quit.” Again Joe turned his attention to the unappetizing meal, and he tried gamely to swallow a mouthful of the slimy green substance he assumed was a vegetable.

 

Thompson grunted a response, and tucked into his own meal, an exact duplicate of the one in front of Joe. “He probably does. The Sarge don’t hold with rich kids joining the army on a whim.”

 

Joe flushed angrily. “I didn’t join on a whim!” he began angrily, only to stop when Thompson held up a warning hand.

 

 

“Now, sonny, I didn’t say you did,” the older man replied. “But the Sarge doesn’t know that. He thinks you’re just some stuck up brat who had a fight with Papa and ran off to join the army to spite the old man.”

 

“Where would he get an idea like that?” Joe demanded in astonishment. “I certainly never gave him any reason to believe that.”

“The Sarge has seen a lot of men join up in his time in the service, and he draws his own conclusions,” Thompson replied. “That’s not saying he’s right, mind you. It’s just saying that’s what he thinks.”

 

Joe’s splutter of indignation was cut off by the arrival of a detachment of Military Police. They marched into the Mess Hall and positioned themselves on either side of Sergeant Roberts as he strode briskly into the assembly.   Joe’s eyes widened when the little group moved inexorably toward him, and he paled involuntarily.

 

“Ten-hut!” The words rang through the mess hall, and well more than a hundred men stood in unison, shoulders back, eyes facing forward. Joe moved with them automatically, but his eyes revealed his nervous tension.

 

The Sergeant stopped in front of Joe, his face impassive, his eyes like flint. “Cartwright,” he barked.

 

“Yessir!” Joe’s response was crisp, his weeks of military training making the response instinctive. His hand was locked in a salute. His eyes looked stonily over the Sergeant’s shoulder.

 

“You’re under arrest!” The Sergeant responded curtly. “You’ll be coming with me to the stockade.”

 

Joe’s eyes widened in horror. “Under arrest, but…” he sputtered, his salute falling away as he stepped forward involuntarily. “For what?”

 

The Sergeant looked at him impassively. “For theft, Cartwright. We found several rifles that belong in the equipment room hidden under your bunk. We’ve had a rash of missing rifles since you joined our little troop. I think we’ve found out who’s been taking them.” The Sergeant couldn’t keep the satisfaction from creeping into his voice. “Now march, soldier.”

 

Joe stumbled forward, the protests dying on his lips. He marched, white-faced and silent before the hundred other soldiers at the fort, feeling their eyes on his retreating form. He wanted to stand up and proclaim his innocence, but he couldn’t. These men would be quick to believe the worst. As the little group moved through the gathering gloom of twilight, Joe’s mind raced. What was the penalty for theft in the army? Was there any way to prove his innocence? Was a man accused of a crime allowed a lawyer? Joe’s mind turned toward home and his father. Oh Pa! The silent cry filled his mind. I don’t want to hurt you with this.

 

Joe’s emotions were a tangled wreck when the group finally reached the little stockade. He let himself be pushed forward into a cell, turning in time to see the door swing shut, firmly locked by the man in charge of the army’s prisoners. Joe gripped the bars tightly. “What now, Sergeant?” he called to the older man. “What are you going to do with me?”

 

The Sergeant blinked at the question. “Do? I’m going to see that you pay for your crime, Private Cartwright!” He turned on his heel and crisply marched from the building, leaving a crestfallen Joe in his wake.

 

Joe stumbled to the cot and sank down, his head buried in his hands. This was going to kill his Pa.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Joe sat numbly in the small room that served as the courtroom for the Army post. He glanced nervously at the small crowd of men in uniforms who filled every available chair in the room. He spotted Thompson in the back row, and was briefly heartened to see his tight nod and thin smile of concern. At least he had one supporter in that sea of unfriendly faces.

 

The assembled men were awaiting the return of the seven man tribunal that had listened impassively to an array of testimony from several sources. Sergeant Roberts had testified to the discovery of the rifles under Joe’s mattress. He was only the first of several men to do so. Apparently the Sergeant had been on one of his unannounced inspections with several of the base commandants in tow. The rifles had been hauled out in full view of a lieutenant and a captain. Both of whom were even now scowling at the hapless Private Cartwright. The two men had been more than willing to testify that they had seen the sergeant pull the rifles out of Cartwright’s bunk, and that they had only been missed from the arsenal that very morning. All three had testified that the finding of the rifles had been timed perfectly. They expressed the belief that given a few more hours, Cartwright would have found a way to make those rifles disappear, as so many others had in the past two months.

 

Joe had taken the stand in his own defense, but he could only profess his innocence, and not much more than that. Since no one could document the time of the theft, Joe had no way of proving his whereabouts during the crucial time. That the evidence against him was purely circumstantial didn’t seem to bother anyone in the courtroom. Joe felt the weight of condemnation from many of the men in the room. He didn’t need to see the faces of the seven men who were now filing back into the room to see that he had already been judged guilty in the eyes of his fellow soldiers.

 

Joe squared his shoulders, determined to meet his fate like a Cartwright. He looked straight at the returning men, who filed into their seats with solemn expressions on their faces. The man who had been appointed to defend Private Cartwright stood quickly, ready to receive their verdict. The camp commander returned to his seat and motioned for everyone in the courtroom to resume sitting. Joe carefully kept his face blank as the commander polled the members of the tribunal for their verdict.

 

A resounding cry of “guilty” was heard from each of the seven throats, and a low hum of conversation filled the room. The Commander banged a small gavel and everyone instantly quieted, eyes riveted to the drama playing out in front of them. Joe stood in despair as he waited for the Commander to pass sentence on him.

 

“Private Cartwright,” Commander Caton said formally. “You are hereby sentenced to 20 lashes, and a dishonorable discharge from the service. You are a disgrace to the uniform. The sentence is to be carried out immediately.” He stood and moved from the room, leaving a stunned Private behind him.

 

Joe looked at the man who had been his defender. “Discharged!” he exclaimed. “What does he mean discharged?”

 

The advocate looked back at Joe in disdain. “He means that you are no longer a member of this man’s army, Mister Cartwright. That is after you’ve been flogged of course.” He motioned to the Military Police who were even now approaching the young man. “It looks like your escort is ready for you. Good day, sir.” The older man walked off without a backwards glance.

 

Joe stood quietly as the little detachment of guards motioned for him to move from the courtroom. His brief hesitation earned him a few black looks, but when his feet finally started to move, the police officers settled down. Apparently there was to be no delay in carrying out the sentence, and Joe was hustled to the center of the Post, where a circle of soldiers had gathered.

 

Joe swallowed nervously as he spotted the post that stood in the center of the square. He had seen several soldiers disciplined for one reason or another during his time in the army, and he knew all too well what was about to happen. He numbly obeyed the order to remove his shirt, and let himself be secured to the post.

 

The guards were quick and efficient with their work. They had performed the same duty many times. As the watching circle of soldiers grew quiet, one of the guards unveiled a long black whip, coiled sinuously around his arm. With a crack of the well-oiled leather, the whip took on a life of its own.

 

Joe closed his eyes to shut out the sight of the dark leather, and his hands tightened convulsively onto the rope that restrained his wrists. The guard took a couple of practice swings with the whip and then moved in for the first real blow. Joe let out an involuntary gasp of pain as the leather cut across his shoulders leaving a trail of fire in its wake. A second blow quickly followed the first, and then another. Joe tried to keep from crying out, but the pain was agonizing. By the tenth blow he couldn’t control himself, and by the fifteenth he was weeping openly. The strokes continued inexorably until the required twenty had been delivered.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Joe moaned as he felt the fire consume his back. The moan became a loud groan and his eyelids flickered open. As he blinked and focused he became aware that he was in a sparsely furnished room, its walls painted a sterile white. Joe struggled to remember where he was and what had happened to him, but the pain in his back overwhelmed all coherent thoughts. Battling back the pain with a strength his father would have recognized, Joe struggled to sit up. As he rose upright on the cot, the figure of a man swam into his field of vision. He recognized the base doctor, a man he’d had little contact with before now.

 

“I see you’re awake.” The voice was calm, but not overly compassionate. “Here, take this.” The doctor thrust a glass full of a cloudy liquid at Joe.

Joe accepted the glass and swallowed, his thirst overriding his qualms about drinking something that looked so repulsive. Gagging on the bitter taste, he handed the glass back to the doctor. “What was that?” he choked out.

 

“Something to take the edge of the pain, Mr. Cartwright. I’ve put a salve on your back, and I’ll give you more of this medicine to take every six hours on the trail. That should hold you until you get home.” The doctor’s face was stern and forbidding. He pointed to a neatly folded pile of civilian clothing. “They’ve sent your things over here. You’re not to go back to the barracks. I’ll expect you to get dressed and be out of here within the hour.”

 

Joe gaped at the man in disbelief. “Just like that?” he asked in bewilderment. “Here’s your hat, get out!” Joe’s voice rose on the last few words, and he struggled to control the shaking that had begun to wrack his body.

 

“You’ve been dishonorably discharged, Mr. Cartwright,” the doctor said dispassionately. “You’re lucky that you weren’t sentenced to hard labor. It was the lack of evidence that saved you from that, I believe. But you’ve been ordered to leave this installation. My job was to make you ready for your departure. I judge you medically fit to travel.” The doctor turned to leave, but spun on his heel momentarily. “Ride slowly, Mr. Cartwright. I hear you’re from over Virginia City way. If you take the medicine and don’t push too hard, you’ll be all right for the ride.”

 

With that advise the doctor left the room, leaving a silent young man behind him. Joe looked at the pile of clothing and forced himself to move toward them. He struggled to slide his shirt over his back, gasping as the cloth pressed against the wounds on his back. With effort he managed to dress completely, although his boots caused him some problems. Bending over made his head swim, as the shirt rubbed against the lash marks. At last he was dressed and ready to go. All of his belongings were in a pile by the door, along with the saddlebags he had brought with him. Joe carefully stowed his things into the bags, and dragging the heavy leather satchels behind him, he trailed slowly out the door. He found his horse waiting outside the clinic, and he stowed the saddlebags on the back of the pinto. The medicine had managed to subdue the pain in his back to a dull roar, and Joe was able to swing himself stiffly into his saddle. With a last glance around, he headed the horse toward Virginia City and home, leaving his army career behind. He spared a thought to what his father would say when he arrived home in disgrace, but then ruthlessly pushed those thoughts out of his head. He would deal with Ben Cartwright when he got home. Right now it was all he could do to stay in the saddle for the long ride.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

It was dusk, and the three men gathered around the table for their evening meal. Ben spared a glance at the empty chair, and firmly schooled his thoughts to think only of mundane ranch matters. He missed Joe so fiercely that it was a physical pain. He remembered the years that Adam had spent away from the ranch. He had missed his oldest son then too, but this was different. Joe was his youngest, and the spitting image of his long departed mother. It had never occurred to Ben that this child, who was so firmly rooted in the Ponderosa, would ever choose to leave it. The suddenness of Joe’s departure had only added to Ben’s misery. He hadn’t had a chance to absorb the impending loss before it had happened. Again, he wrenched his thoughts away from the missing member of the family, and turned to ask Adam a question about the timber operation.

 

He intercepted a meaningful glance being exchanged by his two oldest sons, and a grimace crossed Ben’s face. He knew that Adam and Hoss missed their brother fervently as well. Forcing a smile onto his face, Ben started once again to ask his question. Once again he was interrupted, this time by the distinctive sound of hooves approaching the ranch house.

 

Adam’s eyebrows rose quizzically. “Whom do you suppose that is, at this time of night?”

 

Hoss was already digging into a full plate of food, and he mumbled, “Why don’ you go find out, older brother. I’m a little busy here.”

 

Adam ostentatiously unfolded his napkin and laid it in his lap. “I sure miss that little brother of mine. He was always so good at answering the door.”

 

Ben glared at his sons. “Well, one of you get up and see who’s here,” he began sternly.

 

Before he had a chance to continue, they were all startled by the sound of the door being pushed open. Pushing back their chairs, the three men moved to see who was invading their home. Three mouths dropped open as a familiar figure entered the house. “Joe!” A chorus of voices exclaimed.

 

Joe stood quietly, tossing his hat onto a peg on the wall and quickly stripping off the gunbelt at his hips. As he coiled the supple leather in his hands and carefully placed the belt on the wooden chest that stood waiting to receive it, he looked calmly at his father and brothers, who even now were moving toward him. “Hi, Pa.” Joe’s voice was soft, ragged with tiredness and something else.

 

Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Joe? What are you doing home, son?” His face broke into a tentative smile. “Not that we aren’t glad to see you, but you didn’t send word that you had leave. We weren’t expecting you.”

 

Hoss’s face broke into a big smile. “Yeah, little brother, did ya get kicked outta the army so quickly?” He moved to clap Joe on the back, and was startled when Joe drew back from him with a hiss of apprehension.

 

“So what if they did!” Joe’s answer was quick, his voice belligerent. “Maybe I just wasn’t cut out for the army after all.” The green eyes were flashing with a glint of anger, and more than a trace of nervousness.

 

Adam sucked in a deep breath. “Joe, are you saying you’ve been discharged from the service?” he asked in disbelief. “Why? What happened?”

Joe hesitated briefly. Then his head snapped up and his eyes bore into Adam’s dark orbs. “Yes, I have, Adam. Now, are you going to drop the subject? I’m tired. I’m going to go on up to my room, Pa.”

 

Ben placed a firm hand on his youngest son’s chest. “Now wait a minute, son. You can’t just go off and leave us guessing. Why would the army discharge you so soon? I want to know the whole story, Joseph.”

 

Ben reached to put his arm around Joe’s shoulder, and was shocked by Joe’s involuntary gasp of pain. “Joe, what’s wrong?” he asked quickly. A closer look at his young son told him that Joe was tired beyond the point of exhaustion. There were lines of fatigue and pain etched onto his finely chiseled face. “You’re hurt son.”

 

Joe flinched away from his father’s grasp. “Leave me alone!” he cried angrily. He turned, intending to make his way to his room, but the events of the past few days had taken their toll. The room twisted and spun crazily in front of him, and Joe stumbled, putting a hand to his head in an effort to stop the spinning. With a soft moan, he crumpled bonelessly to the ground at his father’s feet.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Doc Martin made his way down the familiar stairs, his black bag in hand. He glanced up in time to see three men surge to their feet and move toward him, anxiety written plainly on their faces. The doctor smiled reassuringly. “He’s tired, and in quite a bit of pain from the lash marks on his back, but with rest he’ll be fine boys.”

 

The doctor moved toward Ben and his smiled widened when he saw the cup of coffee held out to him. Sipping from it gratefully, he grimaced at the thought of Joe Cartwright’s back. Whoever had administered the flogging had been a professional and he’d done his job well. Joe would be feeling the effects of the beating for a long time to come.

 

 

“Did he say anything to you about the beating, Doc?” Adam’s voice was calm and controlled, but the underlying anger caused the doctor to glance up at him quickly. “Who did it?”

 

“Joe didn’t say much of anything, to be honest, Adam,” the doctor replied thoughtfully. “I gave him a sedative before I started my examination and he fell asleep pretty quickly. The beating was administered by a professional, so I’d imagine it was done by the army.”

 

Ben’s sudden indrawn breath sounded loud in the suddenly quiet room. “The army! Why would someone in the army order Joe to be flogged? And why is he home?” Ben’s questions were sharp and his eyes betrayed his bewilderment. “He seemed to be doing so well. His letters home were full of funny stories about the other men in the squad. What could have happened, Paul?”

 

Paul shook his head slowly. “Joe will have to answer those questions for you, Ben. I don’t have much to tell you, other than that he’ll heal physically, given time. Emotionally, I’m not so sure about. He seems to have something eating at him. Given the state of his back, and his sudden arrival home, I think you better find out pretty quickly what it is.” With that the doctor took his leave, and the three Cartwrights listened until they heard the sound of his buggy pulling away from the house.

 

Ben turned toward the stairs, only to catch sight of Hoss standing, a furious scowl on his face, his hands clenched in anger. “What’s wrong, Hoss?” he asked gently. “The doctor says that Joe’ll be fine.”

 

Hoss turned fierce blue eyes upon his father. “Who coulda done somethin’ like that to him, Pa?” he asked angrily. “I’d like to go find ‘em and tear ‘em apart with my bare hands.”

 

Ben put a strong hand on Hoss’s huge shoulder. “We need to talk to Joe before we leap to any conclusions, son. Don’t go off half-cocked. Wait until Joe wakes up and can shed some light on what happened.”

 

Hoss nodded slowly. “Yessir,” he replied automatically. “But when Joe wakes up and tells us who did this to him, that fella is gonna have a little visit from me.”

 

Adam moved to stand at Hoss’s side. “You’re going to have some company on that little trip, brother,” he said quietly, his words taking on a deadly tone that sent a chill down his listeners spines.

 

Ben frowned at his sons. “You boys are going to stay right here until we get to the bottom of this matter. I don’t want either one of you running off on some misguided mission of vengeance.”

 

Adam and Hoss exchanged a long measured glance. It was clear they weren’t in agreement with their father but they were willing to let things rest for the moment. Together the three men mounted the stairs. All wanted to be reassured that Joe was resting comfortably.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Ben woke up suddenly. He shook his head to clear the sleep from his thoughts and looked around quickly. He was still in Little Joe’s room, sitting in the rocking chair by the window. He had fallen asleep while watching over his son in the night. He glanced at the bed and his mind blankly registered the fact that it was empty. Joe had disappeared. Ben jumped to his feet and stormed to the head of the stairs. “Joe!” he called loudly. He heard the sounds of Hoss and Adam moving in their rooms and both men stuck their heads out into the hallway.

 

“What’s wrong, Pa?” Adam moved quickly to stand beside his father, obviously having been interrupted while getting dressed. He was clad only in pants and socks, his shirt still lying on a chair in his bedroom.

 

“Joe’s not in his bed!” Ben’s voice was frantic and he started down the stairs, Adam following quickly behind him.

Ben stopped abruptly, causing Adam to bump into his back. Joe walked around the corner from the kitchen, a bottle of Ben’s best whiskey in his hand. His weaving gait and bleary eyes, as well as the level of the whiskey in the bottle told his father and brothers that he was drunk.

 

“Joe!” Ben’s eyes were concerned, but his tone was carefully neutral. “What are you doing out of bed?” He moved to take the bottle from Joe’s hand, and was shocked when his son jerked it back from him.

 

“Thass mine, don’ you touch it!” Joe said, his speech coming out with an effort. “Iss mine!”

 

“The doctor wants you to stay in bed for at least two more days, son. Let’s go upstairs.” Ben spoke gently, carefully trying not to upset Joe any more than he already was. “Come on, Joe.” Again Ben tried to take the bottle from his son’s hand. And again, Joe snatched the bottle back from his father.

 

“I said iss mine!” he ground out angrily. He began a weaving walk toward the stairway, the bottle clutched firmly to his chest. “Iss to help the pain.”

 

Adam turned concerned eyes to his father. “Let me try to get him to bed, Pa. Why don’t you see if Hop Sing has some strong coffee brewing?”

 

Ben hesitated a few moments, his face drawn with fatigue from his long night by Joe’s bed. Finally, he nodded. “All right, Adam. See what you can do with him, I’ll go see about some coffee. It looks like we could all use a cup.”

 

Adam heard his father’s sigh and he turned grimly back to his brother. “Come on, Joe. It’s back to bed with you,” he urged.

 

Joe resisted Adam’s efforts at first, but then reluctantly allowed his brother to half-carry him up the stairs. Joe’s gait was lopsided, his head hung to his chest and he occasionally giggled uncontrollably. When the pair reached Joe’s room, Adam pushed Joe into a chair and began to remove his brother’s boots. As Joe’s back came into contact with the back of the chair, he hissed in pain. His eyes filled with tears as the lash marks on his back throbbed.

 

“I’m sorry, Joe.” Adam’s eyes were concerned, his hands gentle, as he attempted to continue his task. “I didn’t mean to hurt your back.”

 

“S’okay, Ad..adam,” Joe slurred. “Did’n feel nuthin’ anyway.” His eyes belied his words. It was obvious that Joe was feeling quite a bit of pain.

 

“You gonna tell me what happened, little brother?” Adam asked quietly, as he finished with the boots and then sat back on his heels to look at his brother’s face. “You can’t keep it from us forever, you know.”

 

A flash of anger marred Joe’s features, and he glared at the older man. “Got kicked outta the army, that’s what happened, Adam.” He attempted to stand, and fell back into the chair, eliciting another gasp of pain. “They dishonorably discharged me. Said I was stealin’ guns. You happy now, older brother. You always said I wouldn’t amount to much.”

 

Adam exhaled slowly, his thoughts in turmoil. Dishonorably discharged, stealing guns. Joe would never do a thing like that. At last Joe’s final words penetrated, and Adam looked up into Joe’s pain-filled eyes. “I never said that you wouldn’t amount to anything, Joe, and you know it. All I said was that I didn’t think you were the right type for army life. There’s a difference. You know we can fight these charges, little brother. Let me help you.”

 

“You never have faith in me, Adam, and now I’ve proven you right.” Joe forced himself to his feet and blundered toward the window, staring outside with sightless eyes. “I wanted to show you all I could do it. Tired of being the little brother alla the time.”

 

Adam moved in closer, his hand automatically reaching out to grasp his brother’s shoulder. “Joe,” he began. But before he could finish, Joe swung around in a sudden fit of temper.

 

“Get offa me, Adam. Get outta here!” he said shrilly. “I don’t need you in here starin’ at me with that look in your eyes.”

 

Joe tried to shake Adam off, but his brother was persistent. With a cry of anger, Joe lashed out with his left fist and caught Adam squarely in the right eye. Adam grunted in pain, but didn’t fight back. Joe crouched a little as if expecting a blow, and when it didn’t come, he dropped his head into his hands and let the tears fall. Staggering over to his bed, he collapsed into it, still not looking at his stunned brother. “Get out, Adam!” was all he could say. He never looked up as Adam silently left the room.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Several weeks later, two somber men rode into Virginia City. They were on a mission to find their brother. In the weeks since Joe’s return to the Ponderosa they had been sent on this errand many times. As they rode through the streets of the dusty little mining town, Adam and Hoss turned instinctively toward the saloon. Joe seemed hellbent on self-destruction since his return and the place to accomplish this task was the local drinking establishment.

 

Roy Coffee had been out to the ranch several times to relay tales of saloon brawls and drunk and disorderly conduct. So far he hadn’t arrested Little Joe, but everyone knew that it wouldn’t be long before Roy was forced to take steps to protect his town. It hadn’t helped matters that rumors were flying through the town. Some people said that Joe had been kicked out of the army for attacking the commanding officer and killing him. Others thought it was for stealing an entire arsenal of weapons and attempting to flee with them. No one really knew what had happened but people were more than willing to speculate on it. Joe’s sullen responses and wild behavior were only adding fuel to the rumors that abounded through the town.

 

As Hoss and Adam pulled up their horses in front of the saloon they heard a loud crash. Suddenly the hanging doors swung wildly on their hinges and a body flew into the street to roll to a stop at their feet. Picking himself up and dusting himself off, the young man charged back into the saloon like a bull after a red flag. Exchanging glances, the Cartwrights followed their brother into the saloon. They watched momentarily as Joe tried to fight with three huge miners. When Hoss saw the largest of the burly men rear back and hit Joe in the face with a flying left hook, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Regardless of what Joe had done, he was still Hoss’s beloved little brother. Hoss waded into the fray, his fists flying, pulling men off of Little Joe with both hands. Adam sighed resignedly and joined his brothers in making short work of the three miners.

 

 

As the dust settled in the saloon, Roy Coffee barged in, rifle lying across his arm, ready for action. “What’s goin’ on in here?” he demanded roughly. Catching sight of the Cartwrights, his face changed, a weary expression taking residence on his craggy face. “Again, Little Joe?” he asked quietly.

 

“Jus’ tryin’ to make these men shut up,” Joe mumbled thickly. It was obvious he’d been drinking for a while. “They were waving that rag in front of my face, and I wanted them to stop.” Joe stared belligerently at the three men looking at him.

 

“What rag?” Hoss asked with a sigh. “Little brother, we don’t have a clue what yer talkin’ about.” He moved to dust off his brother’s jacket, and was firmly shrugged off by the ungrateful young man. Hoss just shrugged, he was getting used to Joe’s nasty temper since his return from the army.

 

Joe hurled a crumpled paper at the others, and Adam calmly unfolded the grimy piece of paper. It was the local scandal sheet. A one page gossip style newspaper that was eagerly sought by the town’s residents as a way to pass the time. The headlines boldly asked the question “Why Was Joe Cartwright Sent Home?” The paper went on to elaborate on all the rumors and innuendos that had been flying around the town. Needless to say the reporter hadn’t taken the trouble to ascertain the truth of any of the rumors, merely placed them in black print for all to see. Adam finished reading, with Hoss hanging over his shoulder in an effort to see as well. When the oldest Cartwright looked up he could see Joe had returned to his bottle of whiskey and was taking a long swallow directly from the bottle.

 

“I think you’ve had enough of that, little brother.” Adam spoke calmly, but his face was troubled. Joe’s actions had been so volatile of late that he was dreading this latest confrontation. “Pa wants you home.”

 

Joe simply ignored his brother and took another swallow from the bottle. Hoss growled in anger and snatched the bottle from Joe’s unresisting hands. “Adam said you’d had enough, Joe!” Hoss said angrily. “Now come on. We’re goin’ home.”

 

Joe stood, his hands planted on his hips, his face a study in anger. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you, brothers.” Joe practically spat the last words. “I’m a big boy now, and I don’t need a pair of keepers. You go on back and tell Pa I’ll be home when I’m good and ready.”

 

Adam snorted in disgust. “You’ll have to deliver that message yourself, Joe,” he retorted. “I’m sure I’m not going to be the one to give it to him.” He spun on his heel and stalked angrily through the swinging doors without a backwards glance.

 

Hoss shook his head in disgust, although he looked as if he wanted to say something. Finally, he just turned and left the saloon. Little Joe watched him go, a strange look passing over his face, and then the mask slipped back into place. Turning to Roy Coffee, he asked quietly. “So am I under arrest, Roy?”

 

Roy too shook his head. “You’ll pay for the damages to the saloon, Little Joe. But I ain’t gonna take you in this time. But I’m warning you, one more time and I’ll have you in a cell so fast it’ll make your head swim. Now take my advise, Little Joe. Go on home to your Pa, maybe he’ll be able to help you with whatever is eatin’ away at you.”

 

Joe laughed bitterly. “It’s too late for that, Roy. Much too late.” He turned his back on the grizzled lawman and took his bottle of whiskey to a far table.

 

As Roy turned to leave the saloon he scratched his head in bewilderment. He wished he knew what was going on with Little Joe Cartwright. Joe had always been one of his favorite people, always laughing, or fighting, or just having a good time. Joe had such a way with people that he tended to be in the middle of a crowd at all times. It was only as he thought about it that Roy realized for the first time that Joe was sitting alone. He had turned away all of his old friends and seemed to be alienating everyone who he met. With a sigh Roy returned to his office to ponder the mystery. The boy needed help, that was obvious. But who would give it to him? Ben Cartwright was at his wit’s end with the events of the last several weeks. The Cartwright family was disintegrating right before the whole town’s eyes, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Joe let himself into the darkened great room of the big Ponderosa ranch house. He slipped his gunbelt off as quietly as he could and struggled to set it down silently. As he moved through the silent room, Joe struggled to keep his steps steady. He couldn’t remember how much whiskey he’d had, but it was a few too many. A muffled curse slipped from his lips as his toe struck the corner of the settee, scattering his thoughts briefly.

 

“Hello, Joseph. I’m glad to see you decided to come home.” The baritone voice was quiet, but it still filled the room.

 

Joe cringed and swung around slowly to face his father’s wide desk. “Pa.” Joe tried to keep his voice steady, and winced when he heard the quaver. “I hope you weren’t waiting up for me.”

 

Ben rose to his full height and moved slowly across the room. The immense anger he felt welling up inside him threatened to overwhelm his good sense, and he made a concerted effort to dampen it slightly. Standing directly in front of his youngest son, he took in the flushed face and the red eyes. “Of course I was waiting up for you, Joseph. I was worried about you.” His voice remained quiet, but his eyes burned with anger. “Adam delivered your message.”

 

Joe flinched, remembering the harsh words he had spat at his brother. “He said he wasn’t going to give it to you.”

 

Ben’s face was grim. “I insisted that he tell me what you’d said, because I couldn’t believe that you’d disobey a direct order.” He reached for Joe’s shoulder, but wasn’t surprised when his son jerked away from his touch.

 

“Why wouldn’t you believe that Pa? I was kicked out of the army, wasn’t I? Obviously, I’m not very good at following orders. Never have been.” Joe’s tone was bitter, his face a mask of anger. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s a little late for bedtime stories.”

 

Joe tried to brush by the older man, but was jerked backwards by the fierce grip his father placed on his arm. “That’s enough insolence out of you, young man!” Ben snapped. “Now, I want some explanations. What happened at that army camp? Why were you dishonorably discharged? Why won’t you let us help you fight these charges? You’ve got to talk to me sooner or later, Joe, and I think it should be sooner.”

 

Joe glared up into his father’s eyes. “No, I don’t have to talk to you, Pa. I’m a grown man and I’ll talk to whom I please.” He jerked his arm free from his father’s restraining grip. “Now if you don’t mind, Pa. I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”

 

Ben’s eyes reflected his shock, anger and disappointment. Joe took one last look into his father’s eyes, and then stumbled quickly up the stairs. Ben listened until he heard the door slam violently. When the sounds of Joe’s movements stopped, he shook himself violently, trying to break the spell that bound him. He had felt Joe’s anger pierce his soul, and he didn’t know if he could deal with it. Moving slowly, like an old man, Ben stumbled and fell into the seat of a waiting chair. Burying his face in his hands, he prayed. He knew there was not much else he could do for his son at that moment.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Joe saddled Cochise before the sun rose in the sky. He headed down the trail toward Virginia City, in hopes of avoiding another confrontation with his father and brothers. As he drew near a bend in the trail, a figure on horseback suddenly appeared on the road in front of him. Joe reined in sharply, his eyes suddenly alert. “What do you want?” he called out loudly.

 

“Hello, Cartwright.” The familiar voice caused Joe’s eyes to widen and a smile to break across his face.

 

“Thompson!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” Joe rode up to the man and grasped his hand in a quick hello.

 

“I’ve come to see you, Joe. I’ve been following your adventures since the discharge, and I have a proposition for you.” Thompson’s smile was wide but his eyes were wary. He sat quietly on his horse and scrutinized the younger man’s face.

 

 

Joe was bewildered. “Following my adventures? What do you mean by that? And what kind of proposition?” Cochise danced a little as he felt his rider’s sudden nervousness, and Joe reined him in sharply.

 

“Why don’t you get off that fancy horse of yours and talk over here in the shade with me, Joe?” Thompson dismounted and led his horse over to a shady spot. He dropped the reins to allow the horse a chance to graze. “I’ve been hearing about you wrecking up saloons and drinking and gambling like there’s no tomorrow. I’ve been keeping track of you.”

 

Joe frowned in confusion, but he followed Thompson to the shade. He, too dismounted and allowed Cochise to join the other animal who was now cropping at the grass at the edge of the path. “What’s this all about, Thompson?” he asked again. “How could you be keeping track of me while you were still at the fort?”

 

“I have my ways, Joe.” Thompson replied affably. “I’ve come to make a business proposition to you. My friends and I are looking for a person on the outside to help us with a real money making scheme, and I’ve persuaded them that you’re just the man for the job.”

 

Joe was startled. “Me! Why me?” He stood up quickly and began to pace. “And what kind of scheme are you talking about anyway?”

 

The older man reached up and grabbed Joe’s arm. “Sit back down, Joe, you’re making me dizzy,” he complained good-naturedly as he pulled the boy down next to him. “I’m trying to explain all of this to ya, but you keep interrupting me. The boys and I have a really good scam going, but we’ve lost our outside man. You’re just the man we need. The way you’ve been acting around town lately, no one’s gonna notice if you just ride in and out. You don’t seem to need to be anywhere on any set schedule. Like I said, just the man we need.”

 

“You still haven’t told me what I’d be doing,” Joe said quietly. “Not that I’m not interested. I don’t like asking my Pa for money, now that I’m home in disgrace and all.”

 

 

“We’ve been selling guns to the tribes in the area. A couple of the young braves are very interested in getting their hands on a steady supply of ‘em. We’ve been doing pretty good so far, but, like I said, our outside man disappeared a couple of weeks ago, so we need a replacement. Your job would be to pick up the guns from us and deliver them to the braves. You’d then bring the money back to me.”

 

“What makes you think you can trust me to do that?” Joe asked bitterly. “For all you know, a man like me’d run off with your cash.”

 

Thompson laughed heartily. “Oh, I got to know you pretty well back at the camp, kid. I don’t think you’d sell out a partner. ‘Sides, my associates wouldn’t take too kindly to you betraying us. I think you know what that’d mean.” The smile disappeared from the other man’s face. “We wouldn’t take very kindly at all to a double-cross, Joe.”

 

Joe sat silently for a moment. His life had been destroyed by the discharge from the army. He felt like a stranger at home and an object of scorn and ridicule in town. This offer sounded like the one he’d been waiting for. He looked up at his friend and smiled bitterly. “It sounds like I’m your man, Thompson.”

 

Thompson’s smile returned and he clapped Joe heartily on the back. “I knew I could count on you, kid. Meet me Thursday night behind the saloon in town. I’ll introduce you to the boys, and we’ll discuss the transfer of the merchandise to the Indians.” He stood quickly and grabbed his horse’s reins. “Be seeing ya, Joe.” Tipping his hat, he rode off quickly, his horse disappearing down the road in a cloud of dust.

 

Joe sat still for a moment. He knew what he was facing, but he’d come to a point where the offer had been almost inevitable. He was no longer a carefree young man with a sterling reputation. In Virginia City, he was widely regarded as a failure and a disgrace to the name of Cartwright. While no one in his family had ever said anything to that effect, Joe couldn’t help but realize that he had let them all down. With his name and reputation in ruins, offers like these were to be expected. In Virginia City, a man was only as good as his name, and Joe’s name was now synonymous with shame and dishonor. With that thought, Joe mounted Cochise and continued on his solitary ride to town.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“What do you mean, he’s not in his room?” Ben’s voice was quiet, but the anger was palpable. “After all he had to drink yesterday, I thought he’d sleep till noon if I let him.”

 

“I don’t know how much he had to drink, Pa. But he’s definitely not in his room. And Cochise is not in his stall.” Adam’s eyes were grave. Hoss stood by his side, clenching and unclenching his meaty fists.

 

The naked pain in Ben’s eyes made his son’s drop their own away from him. “What do ya want us ta do, Pa?” Hoss asked miserably. “I can ride out after him.” His eyes followed his father’s form as the older man paced across the plank flooring that graced the Ponderosa great room.

 

At Hoss’s words, Ben stopped walking and gazed back at his sons. He could see that they were as torn by Joe’s behavior as he was. Since Joe’s return from the army in disgrace, all three Cartwrights had attempted to stand by him, waiting for their son and brother to let them help him. Joe had steadfastly refused to talk to them, and he seemed hellbent for self-destruction judging by his actions in Virginia City. He had rebuffed all offers to help clear his name, and had refused to even tell his family why he had been disciplined and sent home. The only details the Cartwrights had obtained about Joe’s discharge came from the townsfolk, who seemed to be abuzz with news about Joe’s actions.

What Joe failed to see was that his reckless behavior was destroying his family as well. Both Adam and Hoss had returned home from trips to Virginia City bearing obvious bruises, received in fights defending their younger brother’s name. Joe had never acknowledged the bruises or thanked them for the help they offered. He seemed determined to push the people he loved the most as far away from him as he could.

 

Now Ben considered his options. Joe had once more defied his authority and ridden off to town, clearly determined to continue his self-imposed isolation from ranch life. He could send Adam or Hoss after their brother, but knew that Joe wouldn’t return with them. Ben knew that he could go himself, but didn’t feel that was the right option either. Joe was letting the discharge and the flogging eat into his soul, and a public argument with his father didn’t seem like the right answer. Shaking his head against the turmoil of his thoughts, Ben groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Instantly Hoss and Adam were at his side, both reaching to physically reassure their father of their presence and their love. He looked up at them with grateful eyes, and said slowly, “Let’s get on with the day’s chores, boys. Joe will be back in his own good time. I’ll deal with him then.”

 

“Pa!” Hoss’s voice was unbelieving. “We can’t just let him keep gettin’ away with this kind of thing. I’ll go after him and make him come home.” The big man turned as if to leave, and Ben clutched frantically at his arm.

 

“No, Hoss.” The older man’s voice was stern. “I said that I would deal with Joseph when he sees fit to return home. I want you and Adam to stay out of this.” He looked fiercely at his sons and they both broke his gaze and looked down. “I want your word on this, boys. Leave Little Joe to me.”

 

Adam hesitated, but when he saw the determination in his father’s eyes, he nodded. Then he spun on his heel and grabbed for his black hat. “Come on, Hoss. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

 

Hoss stood, his hesitation plain for all to see. At last he too met Ben’s eyes and gave his unspoken promise. Then he dutifully followed Adam out of the house.

 

Ben watched them go, his pride in them an almost visible thing. His countenance changed when his thoughts again turned to his youngest son. No longer a source of pride and joy. Again he groaned, but then resolutely pushed the thoughts away. He turned and headed for the ever present books, determined to spend the necessary time to get them in order. They’d been neglecting the ranch long enough. He would deal with Little Joe later.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Joe returned to the Ponderosa late that night. He led Cochise to the barn and went through the motions of stabling the horse. As he cared for the animal his thoughts raced frantically, as they had all day. Joe knew that if he joined up with Thompson he might be cutting the last tie that kept him bound to the Cartwright family honor. His father and brothers had never voiced one word against him after his return from the army in disgrace. Joe longed to fall into his family’s loving arms and sob out his anger and frustration. He hated the looks that came his way, the whispers of conversation that reached his ears. Joe had never before realized how much he valued the Cartwright name and all that it stood for. To have that name soiled by the rumors and innuendos that were rippling through town hurt him to the core of his being. If he fell in with Thompson’s plan then he gave truth to all those hateful words and thoughts. Joe loathed the thought of dragging the family name even further through the mud.

 

He finished with the horse and moved quietly toward the house, still uneasy about the choice he was being asked to make.

 

“Hello, Joseph.” The words were quiet, but the voice held an edge of anger that seared Joe’s soul.

 

Joe jumped as if he had been shot. “Uh, hello, Pa,” he answered, his own voice betraying his nervousness. “What are you doing out here at this time of night?” Joe strolled to the edge of the porch and leaned against a post. He struggled to give the appearance of casualness, even as his stomach tightened with a knot of fear.

 

“It’s time we had a talk.” Ben rose from his chair, moving out of the shadows and standing before his quaking son. “I want to know what’s going on Joe. You can’t shut me out any longer.”

 

Joe’s hands tightened into fists and he tried to keep his voice from quavering. “I’ve said all I’m going to say, Pa. I don’t have anything else to talk to you about.” Joe found that he couldn’t bring himself to meet his father’s eyes, and he stared down at the shadowy wooden planks that made up the porch.

 

As Ben reached to put a hand on Joe’s shoulder, it struck him once again how young Joe was and how vulnerable to hurt. He softened his tone considerably, not realizing that his kindness undid Joe more than his anger ever would. “Talk to me, Joe. I’m here to help you. I know there’s more to this than you’re letting on. You’re not the kind of man who steals guns, so why are you letting your name be destroyed?”

 

Joe hesitated briefly. It would be so easy to surrender the burden he carried, but he had promised himself that he wouldn’t allow his actions to endanger his family. He shook off Ben’s hand with a sudden motion, drawing himself up to his full height. “I’ve got nothing to say to you, Pa,” he repeated forcefully. “I’m going up to bed now.” He moved toward the door, his eyes blinded by a sudden rush of tears.

 

“Joe.” The voice reached out for him, and held him briefly. “The offer stands. I’m always ready to listen, remember that, son.” Joe bolted for the door, determined to make it to the sanctuary of his room before he crumbled.

 

The older man stood silently on the porch, his head bowed with grief. He could do nothing while his son tore himself apart. Ben Cartwright had never before felt so helpless. He stumbled back to the chair and fell into it, burying his head in his hands. “Oh, Joe,” he whispered. “Why won’t you let me help you?” It would be a long night for both the oldest and the youngest Cartwright.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Thursday afternoon saw the three Cartwright brothers working together to brand the season’s young calves. It was not a favorite activity for any of them. The grueling work was made even less enjoyable than usual by the palpable tension that filled the air between them. Joe had spoken less than a dozen words to his brothers in the past several days, and his face reflected an inner turmoil that made both of the other men steer clear of him. He had torn so many strips off their hides since his return home in disgrace that they walked warily around him now.

 

At last calling for an end to the work for the day, the three stood wiping their sweaty faces and sharing a canteen of tepid water. Adam sighed heavily, realizing that he couldn’t put off the confrontation any longer. He hated what was happening to his father and his family, and he was determined that Joe was going to be brought to his senses if it killed them both.

 

He stepped closer to his youngest brother, taking note of the dark circles under Joe’s shadowed green eyes, and the hint of ribs showing on his too-thin frame. Joe had removed his shirt in the heat and as he turned to retrieve it from the ground, Adam could see the marks of the flogging, still a glaring red on the younger man’s skin. He winced in sympathy as Joe grimaced with the pain the day’s work had caused to his abused back.   “Let me help you with that, Joe.” Adam’s voice was gentle, his eyes sympathetic. He stepped toward Joe intent on helping him ease the shirt over the still-tender back.

 

Joe’s head snapped up, and his eyes watched Adam warily. He anticipated anger from his older brother. The unexpected sympathy unnerved him. “I don’t need your help, Adam.” Joe’s answer was automatic, but there was less heat in it than Adam had become accustomed to hearing.

 

The older man stepped back a pace, his hands raised slightly in surrender. “Joe,” he began, tentatively. “We need to talk.” Out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw Hoss drawing near, intent on joining the conversation.

 

Joe looked from brother to brother, his expression becoming that of a cornered animal. His eyes were wild and he stood in a half-crouch, his body tensed as if ready for flight. “We don’t have anything to say to each other, older brother.” Joe deliberately kept his words toneless. The last thing he wanted was to hash out his recent behavior with his brothers. He was only too-well aware of the effect he was having on their father, but he felt helpless to stop it.

 

A hint of moisture glinted in Hoss’s kind blue eyes as he watched his beloved brother. He felt a physical pain at the look of suspicion and hostility that Joe was leveling at them. “Hey, Short Shanks, you know we only want what’s best for ya,” he began, reaching out to clasp the slender arm.

 

Joe shook him off and backed a step away. One touch from Hoss and all his carefully erected defenses could crumble. “Yeah, I’m sure you do, Hoss.” Joe forced a sneer into his voice. “Or maybe you’re just tired of hearing what a louse you have for a brother. It might be better for all of you if I just disappeared from Virginia City, wouldn’t it. Then maybe all the talk would die down and the Cartwright name could mean something again.”

 

Hoss flinched as if he’d been struck. “Joe!” he gasped. “I never said that. I never even thought it.” The blue eyes were filled with pain. This wasn’t the little brother who had always looked to Hoss for comfort when something was wrong. In his place was a stranger, someone who spoke hate-filled words.

 

Adam stepped into the breach. “Hey, younger brother,” he said quickly, deliberately using his nickname for Joe. “You know us better than that. We’ll stick by you through thick or thin. Give us a chance to help you now. Don’t shut us out. Don’t you think we deserve better than that?”

 

Joe quickly dropped his eyes. He could no longer meet the entreating gazes from the dark eyes or the light. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” he mumbled. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

 

Joe started to turn away, but Adam stepped forward quickly and grasped his arm in a firm grip. “Is that really what you want, Joe?” he asked quietly. “I can’t believe that.”

 

Joe slipped out of Adam’s grip and whirled to face him, his breath coming in sharp gasps, as he shook with some deep inner turmoil. “Yes, that’s what I want, Adam! Leave me alone. It’s best that way.” With something that sounded like a sob, Joe ran for his horse and leapt onto the pinto’s back. He never looked back at the two stunned men, who stood watching him go.

 

Adam turned rueful eyes on Hoss, who stood with his mouth set in a perplexed scowl. “Now, that went fairly well, don’t you think?” he asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

 

Hoss blinked and rubbed the back of his hand across his sweaty brow. “I wish I knew how to help him, Adam. I feel like he’s screamin’ for me, and I can’t get to him. It’s like a nightmare come true.”

 

Adam put a comradely arm across Hoss’s broad shoulders. “We’ll figure it out, Hoss. I’ve let Joe get away with this kind of behavior for long enough. I don’t intend to let it continue. It’s too hard on all of us, especially Pa.”

 

Hoss gazed at Adam, his unwavering faith in his older brother’s ability to solve any problem shining in his steadfast blue eyes. “You just tell me what to do, Adam, and I’m right there with ya,” he said fervently. “Joe’s been punished enough for what’s happened, not that I’ve ever believed he did what he’s been accused of.”

 

Adam nodded in agreement, and the two men moved toward their horses, both deep in thought. It was obvious that Joe wasn’t heading toward the ranch house, and their father would need to know his youngest son’s whereabouts. With a sigh, Adam mounted his own horse, thinking that being the oldest son wasn’t always the easiest thing in the world.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Joe moved quietly through the shadows that decorated the alley behind the saloon. He threaded his way past crates and barrels, and tried not to scuff his boots on the heaps of trash that were piled haphazardly around. He glanced around nervously, but didn’t see any signs of the men he was supposed to meet. Ghosting to a stop at the end of the alley, he swung slowly around, hoping to spot Thompson and his partners. When he saw that he was still alone he sighed heavily. Joe’s nerves were screaming with a fever-pitch of anxiety. A long evening spent nursing a beer in the saloon while he prayed that his father and brothers wouldn’t follow him to town had eaten into his rapidly eroding confidence. *What have I gotten myself into now?* he asked himself as he leaned against the grimy alley wall.

 

The sound of footsteps echoing loudly in the still night halted any further thought. Joe peered through the gloom and was able to make out the approaching figures of three men. Thompson moved to the front of the little group, and smiled when he saw the slender figure waiting for them. “Cartwright!” he exclaimed happily. “I knew you’d be here.” He moved forward to grasp Joe’s hand in a friendly grip.

 

“Was there any doubt?” Joe asked, hoping his voice didn’t betray his nervousness. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

 

Thompson smiled wolfishly, and introduced Joe to his partners. “This here’s Blake, and over there’s Hank. We work on the inside of our little project. You’re going to be our outside man. You’ll be the one who makes the deliveries and picks up the payment.”

 

“You haven’t explained to me what the project is, Thompson.” Joe reminded the other man quickly. “I’m still not sure where you get the rifles and how you’re going to get them to me.”

 

Blake leaned toward Joe menacingly. “It seems to me you ask too many questions, kid,” he hissed. “Your job is to be the delivery boy, that’s all. Too many questions could get you in a lot of trouble.”

 

Joe drew himself up and braced himself for a fight, but Thompson quickly stepped in between the two men. “Now, Blake, you’re being a mite unfriendly,” he said. “Joe has a right to want to know what he’s getting into, don’t you, Joe?”

 

He chuckled at Joe’s silent nod. “But Joe also knows how to keep his mouth shut, don’t you boy?” The last words had taken on such a tone of menace that Joe blinked quickly, not sure if he had imagined it or not.

 

“I’m not in any position to say much of anything, Thompson, you know that.” Joe’s answer was quick, his voice displayed none of the nervousness that was eating at his stomach. “Now are you going to trust me or not? Because if you’re not, I’m leaving right now.”

 

Thompson smiled slightly, the menacing look fading from his eyes. “Settle down, boy. We’re all friends here. Blake, you too!” he snapped at the other man. “From now on, we’re all in this together. No more sniping at each other, agreed?”

 

He waited until he had secured the assent of all the men present, and then, slipping a friendly arm around Joe’s shoulders he proceeded to fill him in on the gunrunning operation. Joe’s eyes widened as he realized the extent of the operation and he tried to absorb as much information as possible. Thompson and his cohorts were making huge sums of money selling the stolen rifles to the renegade braves in the area. These three men were responsible for most of the unrest that had been cropping up between the native population and the white men in the area.

 

Thompson finished talking and stood waiting for Joe to make some sort of response. Joe stood still, his eyes wide with the import of all he’d heard. At his continued silence, Thompson and his cohorts grew still, a rising sense of menace filled the air. “Too much for you, kid?” Thompson asked finally, his face grim.

 

Joe looked up quickly to see Blake and Hank fingering their guns, while Thompson glared at him fiercely. “No,” he answered quietly. “I’m just waiting to hear what my cut is.”

 

Thompson laughed heartily at Joe’s response, and the tension disappeared as quickly as it came. “You make that first run for us, kid. When we see how you do, we’ll tell you what your cut is. Agreed?”

 

Joe nodded and watched as Thompson’s men began to slip toward the entrance of the alley. He felt Thompson again throw a friendly arm around his shoulders, the pressure a little heavy for Joe’s comfort. “We’ll meet at the drop-off spot, Joe. Don’t let us down, you hear?”

 

Joe shook the other man’s arm off his shoulder and stalked toward the front of the alley. “I already told you. You can count on me. Don’t push me, Thompson.”

 

Thompson laughed again. “Now that’s the spunky kid I remember. See you at the drop-off, Joe.” With that, he too disappeared into the shadows and was soon gone from Joe’s sight.

 

Joe stood leaning against the wall near the entrance to the alley. The die was cast and he was in with Thompson and his gang no matter what. He knew they’d kill him if they even got a hint that he was thinking of betraying them. Joe closed his eyes and sighed. He knew he couldn’t face his father and brothers until the meeting had been accomplished. He was close to a breaking point with them, and he didn’t want to risk tainting them with his involvement in Thompson’s plan. Moving slowly, his steps tired, Joe headed for the hotel. He longed to be riding toward the Ponderosa and his old life there, instead. “Soon,” he told himself. “I’ll be able to go home soon.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Adam Cartwright leaned casually against the wall of the livery stable in Virginia City. He’d been waiting patiently for several hours, taking care to be in the shadows and not in view of the people coming in and out of the establishment. Joe hadn’t come home the night before and Ben Cartwright was beside himself with worry. Adam closed his eyes and rubbed a tired hand down the bridge of his nose. He had assured his father that he would bring Joe home if he had to hogtie the kid to do it.

 

On arriving in town, Adam’s first stop had been the saloon. Not seeing Joe in what had become his familiar haunt, he had headed for the livery stable. The first thing Adam saw was Cochise contentedly munching on some grain. Knowing that Joe wouldn’t go anywhere without his beloved horse, Adam had taken up his stance. His patience was rewarded with the sight of Joe walking toward the livery stable, saddlebags slung over his shoulder. Adam was about to step out of his hiding place and confront his little brother, when he spotted the look on Joe’s face.

 

Joe, unaware of his observer, wasn’t hiding his expression behind the mask he had carefully adopted for so long. To anyone who knew him well, the doubt and uncertainty were plain to be seen. Adam noted that Joe’s step was hesitant, his face troubled. Wherever Joe was heading, he wasn’t happy about it. Adam waited until Joe finished saddling Cochise and headed out of town. He quickly returned to where he had tied Sport and touching his heels to the horse’s side, headed after his brother. It was time to get to the bottom of Joe’s strange behavior since his sudden decision to join the army.

 

They two men rode for several hours, Adam taking care to remain a discreet distance behind the flashy pinto. Joe was apparently so preoccupied by whatever he was thinking that he never noticed his brother trailing in his wake. Adam reined in sharply when he noticed the black and white speck pull to a halt near a large stand of trees. He left the trail and circled around so that he could approach Joe and take him by surprise.

 

 

Leading Sport by the reins and muffling his footsteps as much as possible, Adam approached the distinctive shape of the black and white horse. Stopping in a spot where he was screened by some low lying foliage, he peered at his brother, eyes widening in surprise when he saw Joe conversing with three men, all in army uniform. Moving a little closer, Adam felt a cold chill settle in the marrow of his bones at the conversation he could now overhear.

 

“Here, you go kid. The guns are all in this sack. You need to rendezvous with Eagle Feather at Chimney Rock by dusk. If you don’t get there on time, he’s gonna think we betrayed him. We don’t want them on the warpath, now do we?” Thompson was saying. He clapped Joe firmly on the back. “Collect the money, and bring it back to us. We’ll be here at midnight. If you don’t show up, we’ll know you screwed up somewhere.”

 

Joe nodded impatiently. It was the second time Thompson had been over the instructions. “I know what I’m doing Thompson. You don’t have to tell me again,” he snapped angrily, his green eyes flashing. “I won’t screw this up.”

 

Joe moved to gather up the large bundle of rifles, but was stopped by a rough hand on his arm. He looked up to see Blake glaring down at him. “Don’t even think about a double-cross, kid. I’ll make sure you live to regret it.” The threat hung in the air, but Joe didn’t flinch.

 

He glared right back at the older man. “You won’t make me regret anything. Let me take care of this my own way. You’ll get your answer about my integrity tonight at midnight.”

 

Thompson hastily interposed his large frame between the two men, a nonchalant grin decorating his face. “Back off, Blake,” he ordered, his voice friendly, but his eyes hard. “The kid is okay. He don’t need you threatening him like that.”

 

Blake sneered at Joe, and then turned his glare on his boss. “I don’t like bringing in an outsider and you know it, Thompson. I’ve gone along with it on your say so. But if he betrays us, then you’ll both pay.”

 

Thompson nodded equably. “Fair enough. And when Joe gets back at midnight with our money, I’ll make you pay for doubting him and for talking to me that way.” He strolled away and mounted his horse, never stopping to look at the sudden pallor on Blake’s face.

 

Blake through an uncertain glance at Thompson as he rode away, followed closely by Hank. He turned to look at Joe, who was tying the rifles to the back of his saddle. Some of the heat had gone from his gaze, and he said nothing. He watched until Joe disappeared into the distance, then he too mounted and left the scene. None of the men noticed the dark shadow who still stood concealed in the foliage.

 

Adam stood with a horrified look on his face for a few more minutes. When he was sure that the last of the renegade soldiers had disappeared from the area, he quickly mounted Sport and pelted after Joe, no longer taking care to conceal himself from sight. He had to stop his brother before he made the biggest mistake of his short life.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Joe rode without looking back. He was afraid that if he hesitated or allowed himself to even think about his actions, he would change his mind. As he rode, he kept his mind carefully blank of all thought except for the plan. He would meet the Indians and exchange the rifles for cash. What could be more simple than that?

 

The thought of what his family would think if they knew what he was doing was something Joe didn’t want to think about. He had put his family through hell in the past several months, and it tore at him. He had dragged the Cartwright name into the dirt and stomped on it with his booted heels. He could only hope that his father and brothers would eventually find it in their hearts to forgive him for what he was about to do.

 

As he approached the rendezvous point, Joe slowed and picked his way more cautiously. It wouldn’t do to ride into a trap at this point. He scanned the surrounding terrain, but could detect nothing amiss. In fact, he couldn’t even glimpse the braves that he was supposed to be meeting. Riding toward the spot that had been designated as the meeting point, Joe dismounted and ground tied Cochise. Chimney Rock towered over him, but the area where he was standing was relatively clear, the ground decorated with a few small boulders strewn about haphazardly by the whims of nature.

 

Joe found himself unable to stand still. He paced nervously around the small clearing, his eyes constantly darting about in order to spot the Indians before they arrived. Even so, Joe was startled as four braves seemed to melt out of the bushes and into the small clearing. One minute he was alone, the next he was surrounded by a ring of men, who all held bows with arrows notched and ready on the string.

 

“Are you Cartwright?” The voice was guttural and harsh, the eyes of the man who spoke were stern and unwavering. “Did you bring what we asked for?”

Joe carefully kept his hands in plain sight, and nodded. “I have the rifles over there, on my horse.” He gestured to the pinto who grazed quietly a few paces behind him. “I need to see the money first.”

 

The first brave signaled to one of the others. The second man stepped forward and pulled a small pouch off his belt. The leather sack was heavily weighted and the clink of metal could be heard with the movement. The second man grudgingly handed the pouch to Joe, who opened it carefully. A stream of gold coins cascaded into his waiting hand, and he nodded in satisfaction. Without taking the time to count, he stashed the coins back in the pouch and tucked it into his shirt pocket. With an inclination of his head, he showed the first man the bundle on the back of the saddle.

 

Another of the braves strode forward and carefully untied the bundle, checking to make sure it contained the rifles they had been promised. A grunt of satisfaction escaped the man’s lips as he carefully checked the number of rifles in the bundle, and the condition of the weapons. All seemed to be in order, for he hefted the bundle and moved back to stand with the other men. At another silent signal the remaining braves lowered their weapons. Their leader looked at Joe and nodded once. The braves then began to leave, melting away as silently as they had come.

 

The whole process had taken less than ten minutes, but they had been the longest ten minutes of Joe’s life. He wiped a shaky hand across his suddenly sweat-drenched forehead and let a low whistle escape his lips. He moved back to Cochise and laid his head on the horse’s soft flank.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The words flew across the clearing and Joe’s head jerked up, his hand reaching automatically for his gun. His face paled when he saw Adam ride into the clearing. His older brother’s shocked expression left no doubt that he had just witnessed the entire exchange.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Adam dismounted so quickly that he almost flew from the saddle. He closed the clearing in two strides and reached out to grab Joe’s shirtfront in both hands. “How dare you?” the irate man ground out between clenched teeth. “We’ve tried so hard to be patient and understanding since you got home, Joe. I really thought you had sunk so low that you would have to start surfacing soon. You’ve proved me wrong, as usual.”

 

Joe didn’t try to protect himself from Adam’s furious assault. His eyes were wide with shock and apprehension. “Adam,” he gasped finally when it appeared that his brother was running out of steam. “It’s not what you think.”

 

“Oh, really, then what is it?” Adam replied, dropping Joe in disgust. He turned away, stalking grimly away from Joe; he was afraid that he would hurt Joe if he had to look at him. “I saw you give the Indians guns! With my own eyes, I saw it. If someone had tried to tell me that my brother would sell stolen guns to the Indians I would have defended you to my dying breath, but I saw it, Joe! I can’t defend you anymore. You disgust me.”

 

Joe shrank in on himself, he reached out a pleading hand, tugging at Adam’s sleeve like a small boy caught in wrongdoing. “Adam, please, listen to me, it’s not what you think. I swear it.”

 

Adam swatted away the groping hand. “Then why don’t you explain it, Joe. I think I need to hear it from your own lips. What was in that bundle, and why did those Indians give you money if you aren’t selling them stolen rifles?” The dark eyes glared into the green ones, showing Joe all too clearly how much Adam despised him at that moment.

 

“Yes, those were guns in that bundle, and yes, I took money for them Adam. But you don’t understand.” Joe’s words were cut off by the sound of a horse approaching. The brothers looked at each other, Joe’s eyes wordlessly begging Adam to remain silent until he had a chance to explain himself. Adam responded to that look with a grudging nod of his head. He’d hold off on his judgement until he could hear Joe out. His eyes promised retribution if Joe didn’t explain to his satisfaction however.

 

Both men stood silently as the horse and rider moved into the clearing. Adam’s eyes widened in shock as he saw a uniformed officer dismounting from his horse. He moved his hand to his gun, ready to defend his brother if necessary. He might not agree with what Joe was doing, but that didn’t mean he was prepared to let an outsider take his brother off for another flogging.

 

Joe put out a hand to stay Adam’s move toward his gun. He waited impassively as Sergeant Roberts moved toward them. “Hello, Sarge,” he said quietly, his eyes displaying no trace of fear.

 

“Cartwright.” The sergeant nodded blandly, his eyes moved to the second man. “Who’s this? And what’s he doing here?”

 

“This is my brother, Adam,” Joe replied. “He followed me, and saw the exchange with the Indians. He thinks I’ve sunk lower than a snake’s belly or else totally lost my senses.”

 

Roberts allowed a grim smile to cross his face. “You’ve kept your secret from your family, boy?” he asked. “I knew you were the right man for the job, the minute I met you. Good work, Cartwright.”

 

Adam turned bewildered eyes on Joe, his head moving back and forth between the two men. “Joe,” he said, his tone pleading. “What’s going on? Isn’t this the man who ordered you kicked out of the army?”

 

Joe nodded. “Sergeant Roberts, this is my brother, Adam Cartwright. Adam, Sergeant Roberts. He’s the man who recruited me for this mission.” Joe stopped momentarily, allowing Adam to absorb his words.

 

“Mission.” Adam’s eyes went blank for a moment as he considered what he had seen and heard. Then they widened in shock. “It was a set-up, right from the start. You only joined the army so that you would have an excuse to get involved with the gunrunners.”

 

Joe grinned happily. “You got it, older brother. And in one guess too. You always were a smart one. I never intended to make the army a career. I ran into the Sarge in town. Someone had recommended me for this job. I guess I have a reputation or something.” Joe’s wicked chuckle filled the air, and Adam smiled involuntarily. It had been so long since he’d heard that laugh.

 

The Sergeant picked up the tale where Joe had left off. “We needed a newcomer to enlist, and establish a reputation in the barracks. Then when we felt the timing was right, we planted the rifles in Joe’s bunk. It gave us the excuse to create a bitter, unhappy man with a grudge against the world. Then we sat back and waited to see if someone would make contact.”

 

Joe nodded, his grin faded. “I never thought it was going to be Thompson. He was so nice to me while I was in training. I wanted it to be someone else.” He shook his head sadly. “But the plan worked. Thompson and his men contacted me, and we set up this little rendezvous with the Indians.” He looked at the Sergeant again. “I assume your men have rounded up those braves and collected the rifles I just gave them?”

 

The Sergeant nodded. “Yes, son, we got them all, thanks to you. Now we just need to finish this off. When do you meet back up with Thompson and his gang?”

 

“Midnight tonight at Chimney Rock. Your men should be in position a couple of hours before that. We don’t want Thompson and his men to get suspicious.” Joe’s voice was confident, his face blithely unconcerned with the danger involved.

 

Adam took one look at the happy-go-lucky young man and his heart lurched in his chest. He had thought that this Joe was gone forever. Suddenly his eyes widened in remembrance. “Hey, Joe?” he asked, his voice speculative. “You mean all this time, you’ve just been pretending to be drinking? You weren’t really drunk at all?”

 

Joe smiled serenely at his older brother, his green eyes lit with the sparkle of a shared joke. “No, Adam. I was never drunk any of the times you thought I was, but it sure was easy to make you think I was.”

 

A scowl descended on the older man’s face and he grabbed at Joe’s arm. “You hit me!” he said, his voice almost strangled with sudden anger. “And I let you get away with it because I felt sorry for you. Oh, you’re going to pay for that, little brother.”

 

Joe chuckled again, a smirk on his lips. “Not yet , older brother. I’ve got to finish my job, don’t I Sarge.” He turned to the military man, an unspoken plea for rescue from his fierce older brother on his face.

 

The Sergeant had to grin at the tomfoolery between the brothers. Then he sobered abruptly. “You do have to finish this job, Cartwright. So let’s get down to business.” He moved between the two men, only to be thrust aside by Adam.

 

“Now, wait a minute, Joe,” Adam thundered. “It’s much too dangerous for you to go back there on your own. I’m coming with you.” He pushed his face up close to Joe’s. His glare would have made lesser men quail.

 

Joe just smiled his familiar grin. “Can’t do that, Adam? If Thompson sees you, he’ll know he’s been set-up and I really will be in trouble. Right now he trusts me. Don’t mess this up for me, brother.” Joe’s face was suddenly serious, his eyes pleading. “I’ve sacrificed a lot for this, Adam. Please understand that I have to do this alone.”

 

Adam hesitated, he knew what Joe had been through the last several months, and with the realization that Joe had willingly allowed himself to be placed in such an unfavorable light, his heart constricted. He reached out to grasp Joe’s shoulder gently. “I understand Joe, but Pa would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you. You can go in alone, but I’ll be waiting just outside the meeting place. If it looks like things are going sour then I’m coming in, you understand?”

 

Joe nodded mutely. Adam’s unwavering confidence in him meant more than he could say. He allowed his eyes to speak for him, and he looked at Adam gratefully. “Thanks,” was all he could manage to say, but the simple word conveyed much more.

 

The three men put their heads together and began to make plans.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Joe rode straight into the little clearing under the towering strength of Chimney Rock. He was a few minutes early for the meeting with Thompson and his gang, but he wanted to be the first one there. A quick glance around reassured him that Adam and the soldiers were well hidden. He hadn’t seen a single sign that would betray their presence. A smile of satisfaction lit Joe’s face. At long last his deception was ending. He had become heartily sick of feeling like a social outcast. One last meeting with the gunrunners and he would be free to resume his life.

 

Joe brooded and the minutes ticked slowly by, until the sound of hoof beats interrupted his reverie. Thompson and his men were coming. Joe glanced quickly over to where he had ground-tied Cochise. He wanted to be sure the animal was ready in case he needed a quick getaway. Seeing the black and white horse contentedly munching on the sparse grass, a smile skimmed across Joe’s face, disappearing as rapidly as it appeared. The horse was there and ready for action when he was needed.

 

Joe lifted his head and watched as Thompson rode into the clearing followed closely by Hank and Blake. He tried to look casual and at ease as he leaned against a boulder, but his muscles were tense, and his stomach churned with apprehension. Focusing on Thompson’s rough-hewn face, Joe tried to force a smile to his lips. “I thought you weren’t coming,” he said quietly as the three men dismounted. “You’re a little late.”

 

“Did you bring the money?” Thompson’s voice made no pretense at friendliness. His bluff and hearty mannerisms were gone, leaving a hard, vicious man in their wake.

 

Joe nodded. “I did. We need to talk about my share.”   Every instinct was screaming of the danger that faced him, and he fought to remain leaning against the rock. Joe knew that he was walking a tightrope and he struggled not to fall into an abyss.

 

“Where is it?” Blake’s glare was lethal, and he moved to stand uncomfortably close to Joe.

 

The younger man lost his battle to remain casual, and he drew himself up tensely. “Back off, Blake. I’ll give you the money when you tell me what my share will be,” he hissed at the outlaw.

 

From his hiding place at the edge of the clearing, Adam tensed. He watched the confrontation between his gallant little brother and the renegade soldiers and he twitched impatiently. He had less faith than Joe did that this would all come out all right, and he had only allowed Joe to continue with the plan after many minutes of pleading on the part of his younger brother. From where he was concealed he could see, but not hear, the voices were being carried away from him by a wind blowing in the opposite direction. He watched as one of the men menaced Joe and something in Adam snapped. Joe had sacrificed so much to capture these men, but Adam would be damned if he’d let them hurt his younger brother again. As Blake pushed Joe roughly back against the rock, Adam sprang from his place of concealment, a shout echoing through the clearing. “Joe!”

 

Four heads swivelled toward the man in black, and four guns cleared their holsters in record time. Joe saw Hank take aim at his brother’s chest, and he barreled into the man with all his strength. Adam drew back a strong arm and let his fist fly directly into Thompson’s face. The other man was rocked back, and Adam swung again. While his attention was diverted, Adam didn’t see Blake take aim at his exposed back.

 

Joe heard the click of the trigger being pulled back, and he saw Blake pointing the gun at his brother. With a cry of rage, he threw himself between the gun and Adam. The sound of the gunshot reverberated through the clearing, dislodging the hidden soldiers from their hiding places. Soon the three renegade soldiers were subdued and trussed up by Sergeant Roberts’ troops. In the confusion, no one noticed Adam cradling his younger brother’s limp form in his arms.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Ben paced across the great room, his face bleak and etched with lines of worry and fatigue. The doctor was upstairs with Joe, with only Hop Sing in attendance at the doctor’s request. Ben knew his son was in critical condition. He had seen the wound when Adam had carried his brother into the house and stripped the bloody shirt and jacket from the younger man’s back.

 

Adam had just shaken his head at his father’s persistent questions, preferring to hover over Joe until the doctor had arrived. Now the three remaining Cartwrights could only wait and pace. Adam sat in a chair by the fire, his head buried in his hands, his face white with shock and fear. He listened to the rhythmic pacing of his father’s feet, until he suddenly became aware that the sound had stopped. He looked up and found his father standing over him, the unspoken questions trembling on the older man’s lips.

 

Adam rose and offered the chair to his father, gently placing his hands on the older man’s shoulders and steering him onto the velvet seat. “You’ve got to sit down, Pa, before you fall over,” he remonstrated quietly.

 

Ben allowed himself to be pushed into the chair, but he snaked out a hand and grabbed Adam’s wrist. “You’ve got some explaining to do, son,” he said firmly. “I want you to start now. What happened to Joe? What were you doing with him when he was shot?” Ben could have asked many more questions, but he halted the flow of words and turned expectant eyes toward his oldest son.

 

Adam’s face reflected his pain. “It’s my fault that Joe’s up there, Pa,” he ground out. “If I had just stayed where I was supposed to be, I think it would have been okay. It’s my fault.”

 

Hoss spoke up from where he stood with one leg propped up on the fireplace. “We don’t rightly know what you’re gettin’ at, Adam,” he said sympathetically. “What were you and Joe up to?”

 

Adam painfully recounted the events of the day, starting from when he trailed Joe to his first rendezvous with Thompson, to the final confrontation with the trio of renegade soldiers. He talked steadily, trying to distance himself from the worry and the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. He heard his father and brother gasp when they realized that Joe had been operating undercover for months, that his recent behavior had all been part of the plan to smoke the gunrunners out into the open. Adam quickly finished the story, taking care to tell his family about Joe taking the bullet to save his older brother.

 

Just as Adam was finishing his story there was a knock at the door. Hoss strode quickly to the wooden portal and flung it open to reveal a man in an Army Sergeant’s uniform standing on the threshold. He was surprised when Adam quickly joined him at the door and greeted the man by name. “Roberts, did you get Thompson and his men into custody?” he demanded. “I hope Joe didn’t go through all of this for nothing.”

 

Roberts smiled wearily. “They’re behind bars, Mr. Cartwright. I’ve come to see how Joe’s doing,” he responded quietly. “May I come in?”

 

Adam ushered the man into the room and introduced him to his father. Ben’s eyes grew hard as he recognized the man as the Sergeant who had treated Joe so badly during his time in boot camp, and who had seemingly talked him into the undercover scheme in the first place. “Roberts,” he said harshly. “I’m not sure you’re welcome here. Joe is upstairs fighting for his life, apparently because of the scheme you got him involved in. What more do you want with my son?”

 

Ben was joined by Hoss, who stood with arms folded on his chest, a glare of anger in his blue eyes. Roberts took a step backwards in the face of such naked anger. “Forgive me, Mr. Cartwright,” Roberts said quickly. “I only came by to see if Joe was all right. The Army owes him a debt of gratitude and I, personally, have grown very fond of the boy. He would have made one hell of a soldier.”

 

Roberts was clearly uttering his highest praise, and Ben’s face softened. “Thank you, Sergeant,” he said. “I hope you get a chance to tell Joseph that in person.”

 

The sound of footsteps interrupted whatever response Roberts would have made. Almost as one, four men swung to face Doctor Paul Martin as he descended the stairs, carefully buttoning the cuffs of his shirt as he walked. The doctor’s face was lined with fatigue, but he smiled at the expectant eyes that waited for him. “He’s going to be all right, Ben,” he said quickly, knowing that the worried father wouldn’t want him to beat around the bush. “The bullet tore up a lot of muscle and he’s lost a lot of blood, but he’ll make it, given time and rest. You can go up and see him now.”

 

Ben didn’t hesitate. He took the stairs two at a time, Hoss and Adam in close pursuit. The Sergeant and the doctor exchanged rueful smiles, then they both moved to sit in front of the fire. It was obvious that the Cartwright men were going to be occupied for some time.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

The dark curls rested against the white linen pillow case. The face underneath those curls almost as white as the sheet that was drawn up underneath Joe’s chin. Even as Ben watched, a grimace of pain crossed Joe’s face, although the green-flecked eyes never opened. Ben stooped over the bed, his hand going involuntarily to the pale cheek. As he caressed his son’s face, his eyes took in the wide bandage that was wrapped around most of Joe’s upper body. Ben had seen enough back wounds in his time to know that Joe would be out of commission for quite some time to come.

 

His inspection complete, Ben’s eyes returned to Joe’s face and he smiled softly at the bewildered green eyes that were staring up at him. “Hello, son,” he said gently. “It’s good to see you awake.”

 

Hoss and Adam jostled each other in their eagerness to reach Joe’s bedside. “Hey, brother,” Hoss crowed in satisfaction. “I thought you were gonna sleep all day.”

 

Adam hung over Hoss’s shoulder and his dark eyes expressed his relief to see Joe struggle to produce a smile. “How are you feeling, Joe?” he asked quickly, and winced in sympathy as an expression of pain contorted Joe’s face.

 

“I’m okay, Adam,” Joe whispered. “I was afraid that you…” Joe’s voice died off, and he swallowed involuntarily.

 

Ben reached for the pitcher of water on the bedside table and poured a small amount into a glass. Holding the cup to Joe’s lips, he urged him to swallow, smiling as Joe gamely complied with his orders. “Don’t try to talk, son,” he instructed sternly. “The Doc says you need rest and quiet.”

 

“But Pa, I need to tell you about…” Joe began, his voice shaking with his effort to speak in spite of the burning pain in his back.

 

“Not now, Joseph.” Ben’s voice held a hint of rebuke, which immediately silenced his son. “We’ll talk about it later. Adam’s told us as much as we need to know for now.” He smoothed the covers up over Joe’s shoulders and patted his son gently. “Go back to sleep, Joe,” he urged again.

 

Joe nodded, the pain in his back fading as Doctor Martin’s drugs worked their way through his system. Unable to keep his eyes open any longer, he let the darkness claim him once more.

 

Ben pulled up a chair and settled into it. He was clearly determined to sit by his son’s bedside for as long as necessary. Hoss and Adam exchanged a long look of understanding. They gently drifted back out of the room, their intention to be ready to relieve their father not needing to be spoken aloud. Once again the Cartwright family closed ranks and prepared to hold vigil.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

A muffled curse echoed down the hallway, followed by a loud thump. A snicker of laughter filtered through the air, bringing an answering smile to Ben’s lips as he sat in front of the fireplace, a cup of coffee in his hand. He glanced up at the stairway and held his breath as Adam’s black-clad figure appeared, the smaller form of the youngest Cartwright tucked up against him. Joe’s arm was wrapped tightly around Adam’s neck, while Adam’s arm was firmly holding onto Joe’s waist. The two made their way carefully down the stairs, and Ben breathed an audible sigh of relief when Adam finally deposited his burden onto the settee.

 

It was Joe’s first day downstairs and they were all relieved that his enforced incarceration in his room was finally coming to an end. Joe was not an easy patient to begin with, and his high-spirits made it hard for him to sit in one place for too long. Everyone had grown tired of the doctor’s orders that restricted Joe to his bed. With a final pat on Joe’s curly head, which caused Joe to jab at his older brother’s retreating back with a clenched fist, Adam finally left the room to start the day’s chores.

 

Ben smiled at Joe’s audible sigh of relief. “Good to be out of bed, son?” he asked quietly.

 

Joe turned luminous eyes on his father, as he smiled brightly at the older man. “I thought I’d never be allowed to get up, Pa,” he exclaimed. “Old Doc Martin was being too cautious this time.”

 

Ben shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “I think he knows what he’s doing, Joe,” he responded in amazement. “You were a very sick boy for a long time.”

 

Joe chuckled. “Well, I feel fine now, Pa. In fact, I think I’m gonna take a quick walk to the barn. I haven’t seen Cochise in weeks. I’m sure the poor horse has missed me.” He moved to swing his legs off the settee, only to find a strong hand suddenly pressing down on his shoulder.

 

“You’re not moving, young man!” Ben ordered firmly. “You’re only downstairs because we promised the doctor that you would rest. I will not have you off that settee until the doctor says it’s okay.”

 

Joe groaned in frustration. “But, Pa..” he began. His words trailed off disconsolately as he saw the determination in the older man’s eyes.

 

Ben smiled at the sulky figure before him. “This will give us a chance to talk, Joe. We’ve got some things that need clearing up.”

 

Joe jerked his head up, his eyes going wide with dismay. His first instinct when he was wounded was to tell his father everything. If he died, he didn’t want his family wondering what had caused Joe to do what he had done. But as time marched on, Joe found himself less willing to talk about his actions. He had grown somewhat defensive about his role in the affair, and he felt grateful that the opportunity to talk to his father hadn’t presented itself. It was obvious that Ben hadn’t forgotten the need to hear Joe’s story, and it was equally obvious that he wasn’t going to let Joe off the hook.

 

“What do you want to know, Pa?” Joe asked quietly. “I met Sergeant Roberts in town, he persuaded me that they needed someone to infiltrate the gunrunning gang, and I agreed to do it. I’m sorry that I couldn’t talk about it, but I was under orders to keep my role a secret from everyone.” The words came out in a rush, and Joe raised wary eyes to the older man who sat looking at him. Ben’s face held a thoughtful look and he smiled at his son.

 

“I’m not questioning your decision to do what you did, Joe,” he said firmly. “But when the Sergeant asked you not to tell anyone, did he really mean for you not to confide in your own family? Joe, you had us believing that you were in disgrace. You allowed yourself to be whipped and cashiered out of the army, your good name destroyed. Wouldn’t it have been easier if we had known that it was all part of a plan? We could have helped, Joe. Instead you caused us a lot of suffering. It wasn’t just your name being destroyed. It was ours.” Ben sat back and watched his words hit home.

 

Joe’s expressive face registered every word as a direct hit. Wearing a troubled expression that hinted on belligerence, he shot back at his father. “I was ordered to keep it a secret. I did! Pa, was that so wrong? We found the gunrunners and that’s what’s important, isn’t it?”

 

Ben shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so, Joe. In this case, the ends don’t justify the means. You don’t live in alone, son. You’re part of a family. When you suffer, we all suffer. I think you owed us an explanation of what you were doing.”

 

Joe’s face was pale, his lips trembling slightly with emotion. “I’m sorry, Pa. I didn’t stop to think of it that way. When Roberts first sought me out, it sounded so exciting, and I was flattered that he thought I’d be good for the part. When I got home, it was so hard to keep up the pretense. I wanted to tell you so badly. But I had promised. It tore me apart to let you think that I was a failure. I didn’t think about how it was affecting your good name too.” Joe let his head drop to his hands. “I’m so sorry, Pa.” The words were a thin whisper of sound.

 

Ben took in Joe’s defeated posture and moved quickly to take his son in a firm embrace. “Joe, I’m proud of what you did. You were willing to sacrifice everything for the good of the people of this community. I don’t want to take that away from you.” He tightened his grip on the slender shoulders, which were now shaking with suppressed sobs. “But, next time, son. Tell your family and allow us to help. That’s what we’re here for.”

 

Joe let himself be enveloped in the warmth and security that he always found in his father’s arms. Heaving a sigh, he raised his head and looked deep into his father’s dark eyes. “I promise, Pa. I hated not being able to talk to you. That was the hardest part. Not the flogging, not the disgrace. The distance from you, Adam and Hoss.”

 

Ben smiled gently. “Your family is part of your strength, Joe. Draw on that strength and use it to help you with your life. That’s what we’re here for.” He patted Joe’s shoulder and drew himself up to his full height. “Now, young man, I’m going to see if Hop Sing has your breakfast ready, and I’m going to stand over you until you’ve eaten every bite of it. You’re much too thin.” The silver-haired man bustled off toward the kitchen, bellowing for Hop Sing as he walked.

 

Joe smiled as he heard a string of Chinese words explode from the back of the house. The smile turned into a huge grin when he saw his formidable father scurrying out of the kitchen quickly, a small whirlwind following behind him making shooing motions. No one invaded Hop Sing’s kitchen uninvited. Joe’s high-pitched giggle resounded through the house.

 

Ben and Hop Sing stopped and looked at the sight of the young man, helpless with laughter and holding his sides as if they hurt. Exchanging fond looks, the two men returned to their play acting. Ben felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Life on the Ponderosa might just be returning to normal.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Epilogue

 

A festive air hovered over the dusty little mining town. Virginia City residents paraded the streets dressed in their finest. Bright banners hung from store fronts, and in the distance, an Army band could be heard playing a sprightly marching tune. A quartet of horsemen rode through the streets, eyes widening at the sight.

 

“Whew, Joe! Would ya look at all this?” Hoss exclaimed from the back of his huge horse. “The town shore does look done to a turn, don’t it?”

 

Joe’s eyes were wide, a hint of fright lurked in the green depths. With an audible gulp, he turned a sickly smile on his older brothers. “Yeah, sure does look nice,” he said weakly. Running a finger around a suddenly tight collar, he turned to his father. “Pa, I think I left something at home. I’m just going to ride back there to get it.” He started to wheel his horse around, but a strong hand caught the bridle and held it tight.

 

“No way, younger brother,” said Adam smugly. “This is all for you, and you’re going to stay right here.” He smirked at the shrinking form of his little brother. “If you’re going to play the hero, you have to take the consequences.”

 

Joe turned his pleading eyes toward his father, but Ben just grinned back at his son. With a resigned slump of his shoulders, Joe allowed himself to be drawn forward. As the four men dismounted and hitched their horses to a convenient rail, a group of soldiers bore down on them purposefully.

 

“Cartwright!” Sergeant Roberts’s voice boomed loudly. “Good to see you, son. We’ve got the platform all set up. You’re just in time. Straighten up, soldier and follow me!”

 

With a last agonized look at his family, Joe allowed himself to be herded forward to a large platform, draped in bunting and set prominently in the middle of the town square. A blast of trumpets caused the townsfolk to gather around the platform, and Virginia City watched with pride as Joe Cartwright received an Army Medal of Honor and the heartfelt thanks of the post’s commandant for his role in catching the men responsible for supplying guns to the Indians.

The three remaining Cartwrights watched with satisfaction as the youngest member of their family was surrounded by a celebratory crowd. Joe’s name had been cleared with a vengeance. It was good to see the return of the sparkle in his eye and the zest in his step. The ordeal was over, Joe’s honor was restored.

 

“I’d say this calls for a drink,” Adam commented dryly, gesturing toward the saloon. “I think Little Joe’s buying.”

 

Exchanging smiles, the three men took off in Joe’s wake. As they walked Ben draped a companionable arm around each man’s shoulders. The Cartwrights were whole again.

 

 

The End

May 2001

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

Tags:  army, Family