Summary: Little Joe is consumed with guilt when his best friend is accidently shot and killed. Unable to forgive himself, Joe heads down a dangerous self-destructive path.
Rating T, WC 21,861

I Will 

***I will crawl through your grief, I will cry till I drown, cut a path through your dark till I’m lost and you’re found.  Turn your black into gray, I won’t hurt when I bleed, I’ll give up my desire till you get what you need.  Ask me I’ll be there whenever you fall, to do anything, everything, nothing at all.  I’ll move any mountain that keeps you from me, I’ll change, rearrange disappear in your dreams.  Please don’t ask me to let go or make me give up, cause I love you that much.  And it’ll kill me, but I will. *** (excerpt from song “I will” written by Blake Chancey, Dann Huff, Carol Ann Brown, and Bonnie Baker)

Ben Cartwright sat on the porch with his friend Hugh at the Collins homestead.  The two old friends laughed and pointed at their sons, Joe, and Danny, as they readied their horses.

Ben chuckled as he heard Joseph bragging to his childhood friend about being the best shot of the two of them.  He witnessed Danny giving Joe a slight playful punch to his ribcage.

“Little Joe, give it a rest, will you?  You’ve never seen the day that I couldn’t outshoot you,” Danny insisted as he pulled the saddle cinch tighter in preparation to mount.

Joe’s contagious laughter echoed there in the front yard.  “You wouldn’t want to put some money on it, now, would you?”

Danny swung up on to his prized palomino and shook his head.  “Little Joe, you know what they say about a fool and his money, right?”

“This silver dollar in my hand says I can still outdraw you, Danny!” Joe exclaimed, tossing the coin in the air, and catching it in his left hand.

“Joseph!” Ben called over to the boy.  “You and Danny don’t have long to go and target shoot.  Best stop with the tall tales, Boy.  The four of us are supposed to head for town in one hour to have lunch and then get a few errands accomplished.”

Danny grinned over at his friend and teased, “Your Pa probably doesn’t want you to head into Virginia City broke again.”.

“Very funny,” Joe frowned and then waved over to the two fathers who had been staring at their playful antics.  “Pa – we’ll be back in time.  Just going over to Syler’s Ridge I’m gonna teach Danny my newest technique.”

“You just be back in time, Joseph – and with all of your toes,” Ben replied and raised his eyebrows in gesture.  “You’ve just mastered counting to twenty you know,” Ben continued to rib his son.

Joe rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Very funny.”

“Danny mind you’re back in time now,” Hugh smiled over at his youngest son.

“We will, Pa.  See you both in a little while,” He returned his father’s smile and then waved as Joe and he turned their mounts and proceeded to head out.

“Those boys!” Hugh exclaimed and grinned at Ben knowingly.  “They’ve been as thick as thieves for so long sometimes I think Joe is another one of my sons he’s been over here so often, Ben.”

“Yes, same with me.  Danny is sometimes more welcomed by my other boys than their own little brother is.  And, well, you know how I feel about Danny.  He’s a fine boy – and I’m so glad that he’s been such a big part of Joseph’s life.  How long’s it been now, Hugh?  The years are adding up too fast on me here lately.”

Hugh closed his eyes and thought back.  Let’s see – we moved here when Danny was six and then I put him in school at seven.  Yeah—that’s right.  Little Joe was the first friend Danny had.  Of course, his brother Matt was a good six years older, so it helped the boy to have someone his own age.  From the first day at that little schoolhouse all I’ve heard is Little Joe this and Little Joe that!” Hugh laughed and poured Ben some lemonade, handing it over to him.

“Well, I guess it’s right at ten years then since they’ve both just turned seventeen.  I’m glad Joseph found Danny, he’s a good influence on that rowdy little cuss of mine,” Ben chuckled.

“Well neither boy could pass for an angel – but they’ve not gotten into the kinds of trouble that most of those boys in school did.”

“Other than playing hooky a time or two,” Ben reminded his friend as he sipped at his drink.

Hugh reached over and patted Ben’s arm and winked, “I just bet you, Ben Cartwright, that you played hooky a time or two your own self!”

Trying to feign being indignant over the mere suggestion that he’d ever have done such a thing, Ben finally nodded and replied, “Okay, you’re right – but never ever tell any of my boys!”

Gunfire rang out in the distance and both fathers leaned back in their chairs and shook their heads amused.  It sounded as though Joe and Danny had begun their target practice.

“You reckon Little Joe went through with that wager, Ben?”

“Knowing my boy he probably did – and he’ll probably come back here as broke as he usually is!”

After hearing the many reports echoing in the distance, it suddenly became quiet.  The two men wondered if their sons hadn’t brought enough ammunition or perhaps, they’d found something else to occupy themselves other than practicing their shooting skills.  Suddenly Ben and Hugh sat up rigidly in their chairs.  The rapid succession of three rounds of gunfire was heard and then it was deadly quiet once more.

Ben stood from his chair and watched the apprehension growing on Hugh’s face.  Both fathers were well aware of the signal.  They had taught their boys to fire three shots up in the air if they encountered danger of any kind.

“Better go take a look,” Ben said, trying his best not to display the ever-increasing worry in his tone of voice.  The two anxious fathers rushed to their horses and mounted quickly.

***********

Little Joe and Danny were creatures of habit, at least when it came to the spot where the two of them liked to practice their shooting skills, and their fathers were able to get to the place in just under ten minutes.  Dismounting, Ben and Hugh hurried to where Joe knelt next to the motionless figure on the ground. He had a neckerchief in his left hand which he had removed from Danny and was pushing down onto the chest wound in a frantic effort to staunch the flow of blood.

“Stay with me, Danny!” Joe continued to plead with his best friend.

“Danny – oh, Danny!” Hugh cried out as he lifted his son’s head into his hand and leaned down to detect where he’d been hit.

“Joseph— Joe – what happened?” Ben whispered as he watched Hugh’s face take on the stricken appearance of grief.

“We — we both fired, Pa – at the same time – a bullet ricocheted off the rocks – and – and –,” Joe stammered unable to take his eyes off his fallen friend and still refusing to stop pushing down with the neckerchief.  “I – I don’t know – I don’t know which bullet – Pa – I don’t know which one hit him.”

Ben leaned down and checked Danny’s left wrist for a pulse.  Hugh reached over and pushed the other man’s hand away gently.

“Little Joe, ease back and take that off of my boy – it’s too late –he’s gone—he’s gone,” Hugh whispered fighting back tears as best he could.

“It – it just happened so fast – I don’t know – I don’t understand –,” Joe continued.  He lifted the neckerchief up into his trembling hands.  He stared down at the blood-soaked material which he had applied to the mortal wound the instant he had seen Danny fall down onto the ground.

Ben settled his hand onto his son’s shoulder attempting to provide some form of solace which the boy drastically needed at that moment.

“Mister Collins — I don’t know — I don’t know if it was my bullet – I’d never let anything happen to Danny, Sir.”

Hugh swept his hand across his son’s face and leaned down and kissed the boy’s brow.  “Oh, Danny – my son,” He wept.

Joe and his father exchanged sorrow filled glances and soon Ben helped lift his son to standing.  He pulled the boy aside to provide Hugh some alone time with Danny.

“Joseph,” Ben whispered, “Go and mount Cochise and take Danny’s horse back to their ranch and bring back a buckboard.  I’ll stay here with Hugh.”

Joe didn’t want to leave; he wanted to stand over his friend and pray that he wasn’t really gone.  Ben knew what his son was thinking but he didn’t want Hugh to have to view his deceased son lying there on the ground much longer.  He patted Joe’s back and called to him once more, “The best thing you can do for both Danny and his father, Joseph, is to go and bring back that buckboard.”

When Joseph had stared into his father’s eyes, it appeared to Pa that perhaps his son was in some kind of shock.  His movements seemed far too slow for the normally high-strung boy he had raised.  Finally, giving up on staying there next to his friend, Joe jumped onto Cochise’s back and grabbed the reins of the palomino then he sent both horses into a gallop hurrying back to the Collins place.

***********

That afternoon was nothing short of a waking nightmare for all of those involved.  Once Danny was brought back via buckboard to his home, one of Hugh’s hired hands was dispatched to bring Doctor Paul Martin and Sheriff Roy Coffee back with him.  Hugh had taken the body of his son into the boy’s bedroom and asked to be left alone.  Ben had watched Joe. He couldn’t get over the way his son was dealing with what had happened.  Joseph, especially in times of great loss, and this was one of those times with his best friend lying dead in the next room, was prone to display a variety of emotions.  Pa had expected tears at the very least, but instead Joseph had just spent most of the time sitting in one of the chairs in the dining area unmoving and unspeaking.  Ben tried to get the boy to drink but he had refused the numerous offers.

When Doctor Martin arrived, he had to give Hugh a sedative because Paul was also the county coroner and would have to dig for the bullet which had killed the young man.  While Doc was busy with that arduous and hurtful duty, Roy Coffee had ridden out to where Danny had been killed accompanied by Ben and Little Joe.

Roy was a seasoned lawman, and it didn’t take him long to inspect the rock ledge where Joe and Danny had set up the bottles and cans that they had planned on using for target practice.

“So, Little Joe, you said that you both shot your pistols at the same time?”

“Yes, Sir,” Joe answered the sheriff.

“But – well you said it happened too fast to see which bullet went which-a-way?”

Joe nodded and stared down at the impression still on the ground where only hours earlier his best friend had drawn his final breath.  “Two bullets – we shot at the same time and all of a sudden, I heard Danny fall.  I don’t know how it happened — I don’t know if it was my bullet, Sheriff.”

Roy scrubbed at his stubble of beard and looked over at Ben and then back at Little Joe.  He could tell that the boy was torn up about his friend’s death.  “We might not ever be able to find that out, Little Joe.  You both used the same type of cartridges so that’s no help.  It was an accident, Boy, I don’t want you to go blaming yourself.  Everyone round these parts knows how much you two cared about each other.  Since you were little kids, you were like two peas in a pod.  It’s just one of those terrible things that happen in life, Little Joe,” Roy tried his best to comfort his best friend’s youngest son.

Ben stared at Roy and nodded over at him with gratitude on his face.  He didn’t need Joseph to think it had been his fault, not now, not with the loss of his dearest friend, which would surely haunt him for a very long time.

“Let’s all go and see what Doc can tell us, okay?” Roy said and mounted his horse.

***********

Less than an hour later Doctor Martin sat at the dining table inside the Collins ranch house.  He looked over as Roy, Ben and Little Joe entered.

“How’s Hugh, Doc?” Roy asked.

Doc shook his head and frowned.  “I had to give him a strong sedative.  He’ll be out most of the night.  I had someone send for Reverend Hastings and his wife; I think they’ll be a big comfort to him.  I guess someone needs to wire his boy Matt in Sacramento.  I doubt he’ll be able to travel for the funeral.  Hugh told me the other day that Matt’s wife is due to have their first baby any day now so traveling away from her isn’t a wise thing to do,” Doc explained and paused as he reached inside of his vest and handed a spent bullet to Roy.  “That’s what I dug out of Danny.  You can see the tip is flattened badly.  I’d say it hit something a lot harder than that boy’s chest.”

Roy examined the bullet and then handed it to Ben.  “That rock ledge— that would’ve done it, Ben,” Roy nodded.

Ben tried to show his son, but the boy simply walked away.  He didn’t have any desire to see it.

“I’ll make my report – Little Joe – I don’t think they’ll be any inquest, so I don’t want you to worry none, okay?”

Joe stared down at the floor and replied, “Yes, Sir.”

Doc could tell that Little Joe was having a hard time and he supposed, just as his father had, that the boy was in some form of shock.  “Ben, there’s no need for you and Joe to stay.  I’ll make sure Hugh isn’t alone – and once the Hastings get here – well — we will have it all under control.”

Ben nodded his thanks to Paul, knowing how much the doctor worried about the boy.  He had spent a great deal of the last seventeen years patching Joe Cartwright up due to injuries, so the doctor was keenly aware of how hard the kid took deaths.  And the loss of his best friend, as far as the consensus there in the room, was a death which was going to be hard for the boy to overcome.

“Thanks, Doc – thanks, Roy,” Ben whispered to both men and then reached for his son’s arm and said, “Joseph, let’s get on home.”

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

It was dusk by the time Ben and Joe made it into the front yard and tied their mounts up to the hitching post.  He couldn’t help noticing that his son hadn’t said one word the whole way home and even now he stood as though he was in a trance.

“I’ll get someone to put away the horses, Joseph, let’s go inside,” Ben announced and draped an arm across his son’s shoulder.

“Pa – listen – I’d just as soon put away Cochise – so I’ll take Buck too,” Joe broke away from his father’s side and grabbed the two sets of reins and turned before there would be any objection.

Ben’s gaze followed Little Joe as he walked across the yard and headed inside to the barn.  Frowning over his inability to help his youngest, he entered the ranch house.

“Pa – we’ve been waiting on you,” Adam called from the settee as both he and Hoss stood and crossed the room.

Ben removed his hat and holster and set them onto the credenza.  “I suppose you both have heard?”

Hoss’ sad expression answered his pa’s question more than words.  “Where’s Little Joe?”

Ben sighed and shook his head as he leaned up against the sofa table.  “The boy’s putting away the horses.”

“He’s taking it hard isn’t he, Pa?” Adam asked filled with concern over his youngest brother and what the death of his best friend would do to him.

“Yes— but I believe the boy is still in shock.  Let’s not bring up what happened today unless he does, Boys,” Ben sighed and moved over to his red leather chair.

“Hop Sing said he’s about ready to throw out supper if we don’t sit down soon, Pa,” Hoss whispered as he watched the cook heading to the dining room.

“As soon as Joseph comes in, Hoss,” Ben replied and then stared in Hop Sing’s direction.  “Just give the boy a few minutes to get cleaned up – he won’t be long.”

“Okay – but only because Hop Sing feel vely sorry for Little Joe,” Hop Sing called across the room and hurried back into the kitchen.

The front door opened, and Joe only stopped long enough to unstrap his holster and remove his hat.  He turned for the stairs without speaking to anyone in the room.

“Joseph?” Ben sang out.  “Will you get cleaned up please – Hop Sing’s been waiting dinner on us all.”

Joe never turned around but called over his shoulder as he held onto the banister.  “Pa – if it’s all the same to you –well – I’m not really hungry.  Think I’ll turn in,” he said and walked up the staircase.

Ben shook his head and noticed the concerned glances sent around the room.  “I’ll give him a couple of minutes and then I’ll go and talk to him.”

***********

Ben urged his two older boys to go ahead and start eating and it was his plan to coax Joseph to come down if only to eat a piece of bread and sit with them all.  He waited at the bedroom door, and he tried to decide if he should knock or simply walk in.  Usually, he knocked as a pure case of courtesy, but this wasn’t a normal night, and he knew that his son was hurting emotionally and might just try and keep him away.  He turned the doorknob quietly and pushed into the bedroom.  Ben was shocked when he spotted his son.

“Joseph,” He began, as he spotted what his son was attempting to do.

“I’m okay, Pa,” Joe muttered and tried to turn around to keep what he had been doing out of his father’s view.  It was too late.

Ben shakily made it across the room and spotted the blood on Joe’s opened shirt.  He reached for the boy and halted the progress of the towel Joe had been attempting to wrap around his right side.

“You’re hit, Boy!”  Ben pulled the hand towel down and took Joe by the elbow and forced him to sit in the side chair next to the lamp.

“Just a graze, Pa,” Joe whispered and looked away from his father’s furrowed brow.   He hadn’t intended on causing him to worry and had hidden the blood that coated the side of his shirt by tightening the ties to his green jacket when they were seated inside Danny’s house before going to the scene of the accident.  Joe’s jacket had been untied when he and Danny had gone to target practice.  The bullet had gone at just the right angle to hit his shirt and only left a small exit hole in his jacket, making it easier to disguise the fact that he had also been shot.

“It’s a bit more than that, Son,” Ben held the lamp closer to inspect the damage to Joe’s side.  “Get up on your bed and spread out so I can have at that wound.”

“This is why I didn’t tell you—I knew you’d fuss over it,” Joe frowned.

“Onto the bed,” Ben pointed and finally watched his son do as he had been instructed.

Prodding and poking around the area Pa shook his head and tried not to reprimand his son.  He knew that Joseph had a world of sadness on his shoulders, and he didn’t need to be dressed down on top of that.

“Joseph, this is a bullet wound and something that can get infected.  Why didn’t you tell the sheriff that you also caught a bullet?”

“Seemed unimportant – my best friend is dead—was I supposed to complain about a stupid graze?”

“It explains that you both shot at the same time and you both caught a ricochet,” Ben explained as he soaked a hand towel in the basin and then dabbed at his son’s wound.

“But – there’s still no way to know whose bullet hit who, Pa.  I probably shot the one that killed Danny,” Joe admitted.

Ben listened as Joe dispassionately mouthed the words and there still weren’t any tears or emotion in his tone of voice or on his face.  That was not normal for Joseph Cartwright and especially when he was alone and in the company of his Pa.  Joe could show his father how he was feeling inside even if he couldn’t show the rest of the world.  But now the boy was guarding his feelings from everyone.

Ben eased down on the side of the bed and placed his hand onto Joe’s shoulder.

“Joe— it just happened today – let it be for now; you need to get patched up.  There will be a time for everything.”

“I’d kinda just like to go to sleep, Pa,” Joe admitted and looked away from his father’s compassionate eyes.

Ben ran his hand across his son’s forehead and pushed away the bangs which had fallen, as usual, into his eyes.  He tried to detect a fever but hadn’t had much of a chance as Joe turned onto his side almost immediately.

“I’m going downstairs and bring you up some medicine to doctor that wound before you let it get infected, Joseph.  Then, if you want to get some sleep I won’t pester you.”

“Okay, Pa,” Joe replied tepidly.

Sighing Ben pulled himself from the bed casting a worrisome glance at his boy.  If Joseph had cried, or if he had yelled over the injustice of losing his best friend to such a terrible accident it would’ve been accepted and even welcomed.  But seeing his son like this, totally devoid of emotion, was hard to come to terms with.  “I’ll be right back Joe,” He whispered and headed out of the bedroom.

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

Adam and Hoss watched their father walking briskly into the kitchen wondering what was going on.  After only a few minutes they spotted him coming back into the dining room holding a tray in his hand.

“Pa?  What’s going on?” Hoss asked noticing his father had a tin of salve and several other things meant for doctoring wounds laid out on the tray.

“I’ll tell you later, you two just finish eating,” He returned and continued his trek back up to Joe’s room.  There would be a time for explaining it all to Hoss and Adam later, he needed to take care of his youngest first.

**********

“Now, Young Man, let me have at that wound,” Pa called down to Joe as he took a seat alongside of him once more.

Joe frowned as he watched his father fuss over the gunshot.  He wished that Pa would’ve just let him take care of it himself.  Undeterred by his son’s facial expression, Ben cleaned the wound thoroughly and then applied the salve.

“Doc’s going to get a look at this tomorrow, Joseph,” he stated firmly as he tapped the lid back down onto the medicine.

“It’s nothing,” Joe sighed wishing that Pa would just leave it be.

“Joseph,” Ben began and set his hand down onto the boy’s shoulder.  “I know that you’re hurting over Danny – but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t take care of yourself.

Joe didn’t respond other than to pull the blanket up over him as soon as Pa stood back up.

“Do you want to talk?”

“No, Pa – I just want to try and sleep.”

Drawing in a deep breath and shaking his head wearily, Ben reached down and tenderly placed his hand on his son’s cheek.  “If you need me come and get me, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.  Goodnight,” Joe answered and rolled away from his father.

Ben stood there at the bedroom door for a long while wondering just what was going on with his youngest.  He found it hard to believe that Joseph hadn’t shed one tear over the loss of his best friend; that wasn’t normal and he knew it.

**********

“So, you think it was two ricochets that got both Danny and Joe?” Hoss questioned after his father had explained to both him and Adam that Little Joe had been shot and had said nothing about it to anyone.

Ben sat in his red leather chair in front of the fireplace and sipped his brandy.  He nodded over at Hoss.  “Yes, they both apparently fired at the exact same time, each getting hit.”

“I don’t understand, Pa, why did Joe keep this a secret?” Adam asked.

Ben shrugged his shoulders and replied, “He said that he didn’t want to make a fuss about it and that it wasn’t important considering the fact that Danny had been killed.  That boy is keeping so much inside of himself that it worries me — it’s just not like Joseph – especially after losing his best friend.”

Hoss stood and shook his head, “I feel awful about it, Pa – him seeing Danny die like that —and him thinking that it was his bullet that did it.”

“It was just a freak accident – nothing that Joe could’ve done,” Adam offered.

“I know that – and you both know that – but Joseph – well he’s feeling guilty about it.  I guess we’ll never know which bullet went where and the uncertainty about whether he shot Danny is eating away at the boy,” Pa sighed.

“You want us to talk to him, Pa?” Hoss offered, always worried about his little brother when he was hurt or upset in any way.

“Let’s give it some time and then we’ll figure out how best to help Joe.”

Hoss and Adam nodded their agreement knowing that their little brother had yet to hit the mourning stage and until he did it would be hard to broach the subject with him.

***********

Doctor Paul Martin had come to the Ponderosa the next day after Hoss had gone into Virginia City and informed him that Joe had been shot.  He had known the Cartwrights for years and understood why they were concerned about the way that Joe wasn’t dealing with the death of his best friend.  After checking on a few patients as well as making sure that Hugh Collins was still being cared for by the preacher and his wife, he journeyed to the Ponderosa to check on Little Joe.

“It’s not too bad, Ben,” Paul tried to assure the worried father as he closed his black medical bag.  “Now, as for you, Little Joe – next time you get hurt don’t you keep it to yourself, you understand?” Paul called down to the boy in the bed.

“Yes, Sir,” Joe mumbled and buttoned his shirt.  He now sported a bandage over his wound thanks to Doc Martin.

“I want you to keep tending to it for a few days, Ben, just make sure that Joe doesn’t overdo it and that he keeps it clean and dry.  I’ve left some medicine to put on it before he goes to bed every night and it should heal in a week or so.”

“Thank you, Paul,” Ben said and patted the man on the back.

“Well, now that I’ve earned it, how about you get me some coffee?”

“Sure,” Ben returned and noticed the look Paul was sending over at him.  He knew that the man wanted to talk to him out of earshot of his son.

“I’ll check on that wound next week, Joe – now you behave yourself!”

“Thanks, Doc,” Joe nodded and watched as the doctor and his father walked out of his bedroom.

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

Hop Sing had heard the two men coming down the stairs and set the coffee pot and cups down onto the table next to the fireplace.  He always seemed to know what was needed without anyone in the house telling him.

“Thank you, Hop Sing,” Ben called across the room as he watched the cook heading back into the kitchen.  He took a seat and poured two cups for the doctor and himself.

“Joe’s taking it pretty hard isn’t he, Ben?”

“Well – I don’t exactly know as he won’t talk to me about Danny – other than what I told you he said last night when I caught him trying to hide that wound from me.”

“I heard the funeral is tomorrow — Hugh is having him buried on the ranch down by that pond Danny loved to fish at.  Reverend Hastings said to come around eleven-thirty and the service will be at noon.”

“I feel so awful for Hugh.  I wish his son Matt could be here for the funeral, but I guess Mary Ann should be having that baby any time now.  It’s going to be rough on Hugh not having his other boy to help him with his grief.  I’m also concerned about how Joseph will hold up.  The boy hasn’t shed one tear for his friend – and it’s just not like that kid.”

Paul set down his coffee cup and replied, “I think Joe might just have a bit of shock, Ben.  Maybe once he attends the funeral he’ll let go of some of his grief – it’d help him.”

Ben nodded, “Yes, I expect so – or at least I hope so.  He can’t move forward until he deals with the loss.”

“I’ll let Roy know about that bullet wound, Ben.  That darn kid should’ve told all of us yesterday it would’ve made it better for everyone to know that both of those boys got hit.  It shows that they both fired at the same time and it was just a terrible accident; plain and simple.”

“Thanks, Paul – I meant to have Hoss talk to Roy when he went to get you earlier but – well – my mind has been preoccupied.”

“I know, Ben, it’s fine.  I’ll explain everything.”

The two men sat and had their coffee and then Doc was needed back in town.  Ben waited for Joe to come downstairs, but when he failed to do so he went and checked on him.  He was just sitting by his window and looking out with a blank expression on his face.

**********

“Joseph?  You feeling any better?” Ben asked as he walked to the window.

“I’m fine, Pa – I already told you so.  I just want to go out and do my chores.”

“I told you no chores for a few days,” Pa reiterated what he had said earlier.

Joe didn’t reply, he simply looked down at the floor.

“Joseph— the funeral is going to be tomorrow we need to get there around eleven thirty,” He announced the plans quietly, concerned over how his son would handle saying a final goodbye to his friend.

“I don’t want to go, Pa,” Joe stated adamantly.

Ben placed his hand on his son’s shoulder and forced his gaze.  “Son, you need to pay your respects.”

Joe finally stared into his father’s eyes.  There wasn’t any discernable sadness on his face.  “I doubt that Mister Collins would want me there—not after I killed his son.”

“Now, Joseph — we’ve been over this – you didn’t kill Danny,” Pa tried to get through to the boy, choosing his words carefully.  “And even if it had been your bullet, it wasn’t done purposely.  But it very well could’ve been Danny’s own gun that shot him, just like you probably were shot by yours.”

“I’ll never know,” Joe returned bluntly.

“Joseph, you can’t blame yourself either way – you know Danny wouldn’t want that.  And I’m sure that Hugh isn’t blaming you either.”

Joe stood from the chair and headed for his bedroom door.

“Where are you going?” Ben turned when Joe made the sudden move to leave.

“Just going out to groom Cochise, Pa – I need to get some air.”

Ben watched his son beating a fast retreat.  He could tell by what Joe hadn’t said that he was avoiding talking in length about the accident because he felt like he was the one to blame for it.

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

Reaching up, Ben pulled the string tie off from around his neck.  It had been a long day already and starting it with going to a funeral had been very rough on everyone involved.  Folding his suit coat, he placed it temporarily on the back of the settee and walked to his favorite chair.  Groaning as he sat down Ben saw Hop Sing had done it again.  The fresh pot of coffee was waiting on the table for all four of his American family members; Hop Sing never ceased to amaze him.

“We got the surrey put away, Pa,” Hoss called from the front door as the three Cartwright sons made their way inside.

“I could sure use some coffee,” Adam said as he took a seat in the blue winged back chair.

“Me too,” Hoss nodded as he sat across from his brother and leaned towards the coffee table and poured two cups.

Ben spied his youngest heading to the stairs and called over to the boy.  “Joseph?  Don’t you want some coffee – we’re all having some?”

Joe didn’t even try to make eye contact with his father and simply called over his shoulder as he began to ascend the stairs.  “I’m good, Pa – think I’ll just get out of my suit.”  And with that statement, Joe headed up to his room.

Ben drew in a deep breath and shook his head disheartened.  “I still can’t believe that the boy never shed a tear – it was a very hard service.  The only person with a dry eye in the crowd was your little brother.”

Hoss reached over and patted his father’s arm, hoping to provide some solace.  “Pa – maybe he’s upstairs right now letting it out?”

“I doubt it, Son.  Even when Hugh walked up to Joe and made sure that he knew that he didn’t blame him.  He was so gracious – and yet Joseph acted like nothing had happened.  He hardly said anything to Hugh.  I’m really worried about him.”

“He’ll be okay, try not to worry, Pa.  Maybe it just hasn’t quite hit Joe yet?” Adam offered.

“I suppose you’re right, Adam.  I sure was glad to hear that Hugh is going to visit Matt and his wife for a while – and get to see his first grandchild.  I hope it helps him some,” Ben said, feeling at a loss over what to do about his youngest.

“Yeah – Matt and his wife wired Hugh – did you hear him say that if it’s a boy their going to name it Danny, Pa?”

“Yes, Hoss – I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Ben nodded over to his middle boy.

Adam stood and approached his father’s chair and dropped a hand down onto his shoulder.  “We’ve got that herd to move and you’ve got the trip to San Francisco in two days, Pa.  Everything will settle down here – don’t worry so much about Joe.  Hoss and I will keep an eye on the kid while you’re gone.”

“I wonder if I should cancel my trip?” Ben asked, worry creasing his brow.

“Naw,” Hoss jumped in.  “The DeSanto Company wants to wine and dine you so they can try to get you to drop the cost of that timber we’re selling for those ships.  So just go and the three of us will be fine.  I’ll watch Joe and so will Adam.”

Ben drew in another deep breath as his gaze shot up to the top of the stairs.  “Well, I should be back in two weeks – I’ll go.  But, if the boy has any problems, I want you to wire me, okay?”

Adam nodded down at his father and tried to reassure him.  “We will.”

“And make sure he takes care of that wound of his.  I’ll make sure that Joe knows you both will be checking on him.  No rough housing, you two – until that wound is all better.’

“Rough housing – us?” Hoss grinned, feigning that he was hurt over the suggestion.

Ben finally smiled, and it felt good to do so.  “Yes, you three angels – no acting up while I’m away!”

“I’ll see to it,” Adam laughed and walked into the kitchen.

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

Ben felt both uneasy and a bit guilty when he had boarded the stage that would take him into San Francisco.  His three sons were there in town to see him off and as usual he had given each of them a quick hug goodbye.  He couldn’t help noticing the way that Joseph stood so rigidly when he had put his arms around the boy.  He had simply muttered a quiet “have a good time Pa” and that was it; and that was not like the kid at all.  It appeared that Joe had no feelings towards anyone anymore and the thought of that worried his Pa.  But there were important contracts that would need signing and other things to tend to in San Francisco, so he had boarded the stage and waved goodbye to his sons.  ***It’s only two weeks *** Ben thought to himself.  *** My boys can do without me for two weeks – and Joe’s brothers will watch over him.  Relax, Ben.  This isn’t your first time away from home. *** He sighed to himself as he eased down in the hard wooden seat and waited for the first way station.

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

Adam kept the ranch running smoothly and had relied on Hoss’ help to keep Joe in line.  They reminded him daily to take care of his wound and Joe had assured his brothers that he was doing just that.  While his two brothers were out with the herd Joe had opted to have the job of rounding up strays.  Adam thought it would be a good assignment for his youngest brother as it wasn’t as strenuous a job as keeping the large herd in line.  Joe worked a good three hours and then it was time.  He headed over to the Collins ranch and made his way down to the pond where he and Danny always had fun fishing.

Staring down at the granite marker, Joe read the name and the dates that were chiseled onto it.

“Here you go, Danny,” Joe said and pulled the whiskey bottle out of his saddlebags.  He uncorked it and poured a few shots onto the grave.  There were still no tears to be shed, and Joe had wondered if he’d ever feel anything about his friend’s death.  He took a few good swigs out of the bottle and simply mounted Cochise.  Taking one final look at the headstone Joe just shook his head, he felt absolutely nothing inside.  Slowly, riding away from the Collins ranch, Joe’s hand went down to his side where he still carried the wound from either his or Danny’s gun.  He reached down and tugged the bandage out from underneath his shirt and tossed it onto the ground.  Then he hit the wound hard with his right fist.  It was the only kind of pain that he could feel anymore.  Joe guessed he must still be alive because it had hurt something fierce.  He kicked at Cochise’ sides and rode home.

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

The large Ponderosa herd was moved to the northern pastureland where it would stay until it was time for the summer push to market.  Hoss and Adam were glad to have that chore behind them though it had taken the entire two weeks that their father had been away.  Joe had been assigned the job of bringing Pa back from town and he waited outside of the Overland Depot in Virginia City for his arrival.

“Joseph!” Ben called down from the stage as he turned to disembark.

“Hi, Pa,” Joe nodded to his father and soon felt the man’s arms pulling him close.  He felt the stab of pain coming from his side, but he didn’t show it on his face.  The wound and the pain were a reminder to him of what he had done, and he welcomed it because in his mind he deserved it.

Ben retrieved his two bags and Joe showed him over to the buckboard. They both climbed onboard and Joe sent the team of horses forward.

“So – how are you?” Ben asked as he draped his left arm across the boy’s shoulder.

“Fine, Pa,” Joe returned with no emotion to his words.

“How about that wound of yours?”

“Fine, Pa,” Joe repeated.

“Oh, I see,” Ben paused and stared hard at his son.  “I suppose if I ask you how your brothers are you’ll say “fine”, right?”

Joe frowned and pulled back on the reins.  “Pa – there’s just nothing much to tell you – everything is fine.  I don’t know what else to say.”

“Joseph, it’s almost been a month now – are you still having problems?  Why don’t you talk to me – we’ve got a long ride back home,” Pa offered calmly.

Joe sent the team forward and answered, “Pa – I don’t want to talk about any of that, okay?  Go ahead and tell me about your trip if you want.”

“My trip was fine,” Ben responded with heavy sarcasm in his words.

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

The buckboard pulled up in front of the ranch house and Ben was greeted heartily by both Adam and Hoss.  It was a much better welcome than he had received from their younger brother.  Both of his sons grabbed a bag and eagerly walked with Pa into the house.  Joe stayed outside and put the team of horses out in the corral.

Hop Sing handed Ben a steaming cup of coffee and bid him over into the chair next to the fireplace.

“Well, I sure am glad to be home!” Ben exclaimed as he smiled over at Hoss and Adam.  “How did it go, Boys?”

“Well, we got the herd moved and they’re all secure and grazing and getting fat,” Adam answered as he took a seat opposite his father.

“Did Joe help you both?”

“We gave him the job of rounding up strays – he done good, Pa,” Hoss announced and playfully slapped his father’s back as he turned to sit on the settee.

Ben nodded to show his approval.  “Good.  Now, how was the boy?  Give you any trouble?”

Sighing, Adam shook his head, “If you’re asking us if he did his work — well yes.  I didn’t catch him goofing off once.  But if you’re asking if he kept to himself then the answer is yes there too.”

“Did the boy talk about Danny or that shooting at all?”

Hoss shook his head and replied, “Not a word, Pa.”

“And that wound of his – did you two make sure it got tended?”

“We seen him get the medicine out every night and he told us his wound is just about all gone now, Pa.  I think Little Joe is okay — just a mite quiet is all.”

Ben began to say something when the front door opened, and Joe stepped inside the house.  He decided to wait for another time to question his older boys about what had gone on while he had been on his trip.

“I’ll take your bags upstairs, Pa,” Joe called across the room and without waiting for a response headed for his father’s bedroom.

Leaning forward he said quietly, “Has he had any nightmares?”

Adam and Hoss both shook their heads “no”.

“So – he’s just doing as told and that’s it?” Ben asked again, being surprised by his sons and their report.

“Yeah – the kid’s been working pretty hard and didn’t give either of us any grief.”

“Yes, Adam — I can imagine he didn’t give you any grief – because Joseph has decided to bypass grief altogether.  I hope something happens that will help him come to grips with his loss.”

Hoss watched Joe as he began his descent down into the living room and quickly changed the topic.  “So how did it go with the DeSanto people, Pa?”

Ben smiled over at his middle boy realizing why he had changed the subject.  “It went great and the contracts are all signed.  We’ll need to get started marking those trees next week, Boys.”

Joe took a seat there on the hearth and just listened to the conversation without adding anything to it.

“I think I’ll get cleaned up for dinner, Boys,” Ben announced standing from his chair.  He walked past Joe and dropped a hand down onto the boy’s shoulder and smiled at him.  “Your brothers said you did a great job while I was gone, Joseph— I’m proud of you.”

Joe closed his eyes for a moment as he took in his father’s words.  Pa’s compliment was misguided.  Joe didn’t want any kind of recognition or any kind of congratulations for doing a good job.  As far as he was concerned, he didn’t deserve any kind of praise.  He remained on the hearth, turning his body sharply to the right, facing away from his father.  The quick movement caused a hot dagger of pain to shoot up from the wound on his side.  It had been done intentionally, hoping it would have just that effect.  Joe still needed the reminder of what he had done and the lives he had ruined due to killing Danny.

Ben looked at Joe pensively.  For just a moment he was sure that he had witnessed what appeared to be a twinge of pain that flashed across his face and then was gone just as fast.

“Joseph?  Are you hurting?  Is it that wound?”

Joe stood and hoped he could disappear upstairs before Pa could question him further, or worse yet, inspect his side.  “I told you, Pa – my side is all healed up.  There isn’t anything wrong.”

“Did you have Doc take a look at it like I told you before I left?”

“Sure, I did,” Joe nodded, but his eyes weren’t directed at his father because he knew that Pa could spot a lie when he saw it on his face.  “Doc said I was okay now.”

Ben studied the way that his youngest wasn’t looking at him and he wondered just how much of the truth, if any, Joe had spoken.  “You know that I’ll see Paul sometime this week, right?”

“Pa – I went to see him and I’m fine, now can we stop talking about it?” Joe answered, his temper mounting.

“Hey, let’s get ready for supper, I’m starving!” Hoss jumped into the heated conversation for both Joe and Pa’s sakes.

Ben gave his youngest one final look and then headed up to his room so that he could wash up for supper.  Joe breathed a sigh of relief.  He didn’t need another one of Pa’s interrogations.

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

The Ponderosa required a lot of attention for the next few weeks, and all the Cartwrights had to pitch in to get everything accomplished.  Ben had business meetings to attend, and his sons had trees to mark and later cut and haul.  Most days were long and the only time that the four of them were together was for dinner each night.  Joe had helped both of his brothers marking trees and then he was sent back to the ranch house to help with chores that were piling up there. The time flew by and weeks turned into months until it was early June, three months after the death of Danny Collins.  Ben had kept an eye on Joe, and the boy had never broken down, not once.  He had tried his best to jolt his son into facing the events leading up to Danny’s death, but Joe had never cracked.  Life went on as usual for everyone but Joe.  He kept all of what had happened the day of Danny’s death locked tightly inside of him.  He didn’t show the pain that he carried or the things that he was doing when nobody else was around.  Joe dealt with Danny’s death in his own very unhealthy way.

Joe remembered how mad Pa had been with him when he’d found out that he’d lied about going to see Doctor Martin when his father had been in San Francisco.  He had to do some serious backpedaling with the story he had told.  Joe had technically seen Paul, but it had been on the street in Virginia City, and he had only said hi to the doctor and walked away.  Ben was not amused and months ago had made Doc look at the wound again.  Paul had wondered why it was taking so long for it to heal and had given Joe some stronger medicine to use.  After a few weeks Joe was able to tell Pa that he was all well and the mention of the wound had been dropped.  After that, Joe had dealt with it his own way and that was to open it up once again.  Just as usual, he had needed the pain to remember his part in Danny’s death.

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

“Did you get those wagon wheels taken care of, Joseph?” Ben asked as he passed the platters of food around the table for his sons.

“Yes, Sir – they’ll be ready to be picked up on Thursday,” Joe nodded.

Ben had waited as long as he could, but he figured it was time to let everyone know about the letter he had received earlier in the day.

“I got a letter from Hugh today.”

Everyone looked over at Pa surprised by his news except Joe who just kept eating, his eyes focused on his dinner plate.

“How’s he doing, Pa?” Adam asked.

“He says he’s doing pretty good.  He’s going to come into town in a few weeks.  He wants the baby to be christened by Reverend Hastings.”

“It sure was nice of Matt and his wife to name the baby Danny,” Hoss remarked and shot a quick glance over at his little brother, wondering just how he’d take the news.

Ben also stared over at Little Joe and could easily tell that he was trying his best not to listen to what was being discussed around the table.  “Hugh said he looks forward to seeing all four of us.”

Little Joe set his fork and knife on his plate and said, “I’ve got to go check on Cochise, I think one of her shoes needs fixing — it’s loose.  Excuse me.”

Ben watched as Joe hurriedly walked out of the dining room.  He listened to the sound of the front door opening and soon Joe was gone.

“It’s been three months, Pa – and Little Joe still hasn’t talked about Danny.  You reckon he ever will?”

“I don’t know, Hoss, I wish I could’ve gotten him to the point where he would’ve faced his grief three months ago.  But he never would let me in.”

“Maybe seeing Hugh—or even the baby who is Danny’s namesake might do it, Pa?” Adam suggested.

Ben sighed and shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t know if it will help or hurt the situation but that’s going to be later this month.  We’ll just have to wait and see.”

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

After supper that night Hoss and Adam sat by the coffee table and played checkers as Pa read the Territorial Enterprise to catch up on the local comings and goings.  Little Joe had turned down Hoss’ offer to play a game or two with him saying that he was too tired.  He just sat on the hearth staring into nothing.  Ben dropped his newspaper down in his lap and caught sight of his youngest.  He’d been quiet, even quieter than he’d been for several months.  Closing his eyes he wondered exactly what was going on in his son’s mind.  He figured he might have taken the news of Hugh and the family’s upcoming visit hard and perhaps that was why he now sat as though he was in another world.

*** I watched the internal struggle going on inside of Joseph.  He was fighting it, fighting it real hard.  Part of me wanted to jump from my chair and hold onto him to quiet what was surely a loud fight he was having inside his mind, but I waited.   It was a matter of timing.  My youngest had that – well not with himself—but with the horses he gentled.  He never hurried right into the saddle.  No, his approach was always quiet and extremely measured, trying not to spook them.  I wonder if somehow, he learned that talent by watching me?  Before I could pose any more questions, I spotted Joseph rising from his place there on the hearth.  I heard his mournful tone as he called a “goodnight, Pa.” ***

“Well, goodnight, Son,”

***Please stay and let me help you.  Show me a sign that you’re ready for your Pa here to walk over to you, Joseph. *** Ben thought as he stared at the boy.

*** I wish I could go to you, Pa.  I wish – oh Pa – it hurts but I deserve it so I can’t let you try and take it away.  I miss you, Pa – I miss us – but Danny won’t ever feel his Pa’s touch again and Mister Collins won’t ever be able to comfort his son.  So why should I be able to draw strength and comfort from you, Pa? *** Joe thought as he stood and stared over at his father.

*** Joseph hesitated for just a brief moment his eyes trying their best not to stare directly into mine.  I suppose he knew what would happen.  He’d read my worry and the unspoken offer to shoulder his burden.  Joseph just couldn’t allow that, as if he was punishing himself over the death of his friend and he was going to deny any form of relief from the guilt he was forcing upon himself.  After his whispered, “goodnight, Pa” he was gone.  His slumped shoulders indicated the weight he was still carrying deep inside.  Joe’s hand securely held the banister when that was never his nature to do so.  My son had two speeds, fast and a dead stop and that was all.  But now he walked carefully as though every step up to his room was almost an insurmountable challenge.  I still fought to stay the course, biding my time as both of my hands gripped the arms of my chair forcing myself to stay put.  It was like I had been waiting for months to get one glimpse into a crack that might be forming in Joseph’s carefully crafted façade.  The dam couldn’t possibly hold too much longer. ***

*** Before I had headed up to the safety of my bedroom, I thought about what I was witnessing across the room.  I could hear it in Pa’s voice, even in the mundane questions around the table when he’d asked me about hauling those wheels to the blacksmith’s shop.  He was really asking me to come closer.  Pa wanted to shield me from myself and my guilt.  I couldn’t let him.  I deserved everything I had been putting my body and mind through.  Even that wound to my side was festering even though nobody could tell, other than me.  If I turned my body just the right way the burning sensation was fierce enough to take my breath away.  So, any chance I got I turned that exact way just to punish myself.  Danny was dead and it was my fault, so I deserved to feel pain.  I admit to almost letting go the night Pa had lingered in my bedroom a few nights ago.  He had said he was just checking on me, but I knew better.  He wanted to know what I was up to and how he could help save me from myself.  It was the only time in the last three months that I came close to begging Pa to help me.  I thought tears were beginning to well up in my eyes at long last, but they vanished like a false lake out in the heat of the desert.  Pa was faced away from me as he began to leave my room after yet another defeat.  He wanted to help me, but I continued to push him away emotionally, though I’d never even try to do it physically.  I even pulled myself silently off my bed and began to mouth the words “Pa, come back I need you!” but they never came out of my throat and then Pa was gone.  If I could’ve forgotten my responsibility for Danny’s death I would’ve rushed out of my room and reached for my Pa before he could’ve gotten into his room across the hall.  But once again I heard those last two gunshots and saw my best friend lying in a pool of his own blood.  I didn’t deserve my father’s loving touch.  I didn’t deserve to have him hold me and tell me that he loved me because Mister Collins can never hold Danny ever again or tell him those same things. ***

***********

Ben walked out into the hallway and spotted the light coming from underneath Joe’s bedroom door.  It was almost two in the morning, and he had presumed that his son was fast asleep.  There was no reason for his boy to be awake at that hour.  Pa hadn’t heard his son crying out due to a nightmare and, as he drew closer and placed his ear up against the door, didn’t hear any noise that would indicate that Joe was moving around inside.  Knowing that if he gave his youngest a warning, by knocking on the door, that he’d never find out what was really going on with the boy, Ben simply turned the doorknob and entered the bedroom unannounced.

Little Joe was seated next to his desk with a shot glass in his right hand and a half empty whiskey bottle to his immediate left.  The boy, caught by surprise, shot an apprehensive glance over at his father.  He had no idea that Pa was still awake, or he wouldn’t have been so bold to have left the lamp on in his bedroom.  There wasn’t any reason to pretend that he wasn’t drinking as Joe knew that Pa had him dead to rights now.

Ben shook his head and frowned as he approached his son.  He reached over and took the whiskey bottle off Joe’s desk and held it in his hands.

“Having a little nightcap, Joseph?” Ben asked, his voice filled with sarcasm.

Little Joe didn’t answer as he figured that there wasn’t anything that he could say that would explain his actions at the time.  He just stared down at the floor and away from his father’s penetrating gaze.

Sinking down onto the end of Joe’s bed, Ben continued to shake his head in frustration over the way the boy was trying his best to avoid him.  Finally, having had enough of the situation, he sang out once more.

“Go ahead and finish that shot, don’t mind me.”

“I didn’t think that you were still up, Pa.”

“This night is just full of surprises,” Ben returned and waited to see just how far the boy would go with his plan to drink hard liquor there in front of him.

Joe set the shot glass back on his desk and looked over at his Pa and waited for the lecture which he knew would be forthcoming.

“Well, Joseph, just how many of those have you had this evening?”

“Only one,” Joe whispered.

“Only one?  Is that including the one you just set down?”

“No, Sir.”

Ben nodded and tried his best to hold back his anger for the time being.  “So, then it’s one and whatever you drank from that glass, right?”

“Yes, Sir,” Joe frowned, knowing that Pa was going to continue his interrogation.

Reaching over to the desk, Ben withdrew the shot glass and held it up to the light.  “I guess your total is one and a half – would that be a more accurate assessment, Joseph?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I see – how many had you planned on having until you were so rudely interrupted?”

Joe shrugged his shoulders, still avoiding his father’s gaze.

“That’s not an answer, Son.  Go on tell me – you might just as well.”

“As many as it took,” Joe responded quietly.

“Took to what?”

“Took to fall asleep.”

Ben nodded and sighed.  “So, I guess this is better than warm milk, is it?”

Joe dropped his head down to his chest and waited for his father’s stern reprimand to begin.

“How long?  How long have you been swilling this rotgut?”

“About an hour.”

Ben reached over and lifted his son’s chin and glared into his eyes.  “You know what I mean, Joseph!  Now, how long have you been drinking on the quiet and hiding liquor up here?”

“A couple of months,” Joe answered barely audible.

“Speak up!” Pa commanded.

“A couple of months, Pa.”

Ben stood and walked across the room and placed the whiskey bottle there on top of the mantle to his son’s fireplace and then returned to the bed.  He had to attempt to control his temper wanting to get to the bottom of his son’s behavior before acting on the willfulness of the boy’s disobedience.

“A couple of months, Joseph?  Wouldn’t that be around the time of Danny’s death?”

“Yes.”

“So, you’ve been drinking for almost three months – so that’s more than a couple in my book.  Now where have you been getting it and who’s been buying it for you?  You’re too young to buy it in Virginia City yourself.  Out with it!”

“I can’t say, Pa – I gave my word on it,” Joe answered, again dropping his voice to just above a whisper.

Ben reached over and pulled Little Joe’s chin up to force his gaze.  “Son, whoever is buying this for you isn’t helping you and they don’t deserve your loyalty.”

“I just can’t, Pa.  You always said once you give someone your word you’ve got to stick by it,” Joe insisted.

“I find it very ironic that you can quote some of the things that I tell you but forget all about other things – like when I’ve told you that you’re not allowed to drink hard liquor.  I’ll give whoever bought the whiskey a pass for now because we’ve got other issues to deal with first.  Now, you’ve been drinking for almost three months – how many shots a night?”

Joe had to stare into his father’s eyes as Pa still held onto his chin at the time.  “I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me, Joseph—you’re in enough trouble already,” Pa warned.

“Three or four – I guess.”

Ben’s mouth dropped open in astonishment.  “Joseph, you’re only seventeen years old—three or four shots would put most grown men under the table!  How have you managed to get up in the morning?”

Joe simply shrugged his shoulders.

“Young Man, I’m very angry with you right now so you’d do well to answer me.”

“I usually start drinking as soon as I come up here – it’s the only way that I can fall to sleep, Pa, but I can get up okay,” Little Joe explained and this time he showed sincerity on his face.

Ben groaned and dropped his hand down releasing his son’s chin.  “So, then that’s why you’ve been turning in right after supper most nights?”

“Yes.”

“This is all about Danny, isn’t it, Joseph?”

“No — like I said it’s because I can’t sleep,” Joe returned.

“You never had much trouble sleeping before Danny died – and if you’ve been drinking ever since his death, it’s pretty easy to figure out why.”

“I don’t want to talk about Danny, Pa,” Joe complained and stood from his desk.

“Right here!” Ben pointed to the bed.  “Don’t you walk away from me now.”

Joe sighed and moved to sit next to his father on the bottom of the bed.

“Where is the rest of it, Joseph?”

“What?” Joe asked, pretending he didn’t understand his father’s question.

“Joseph—don’t play me – go and bring me any other whiskey you’ve got stashed in this room.”

Joe looked at his father blankly.

“Joseph – go and get it or I’ll have to tear apart your room and it’s far too late to do that right now.”

Joe frowned and stood and walked around to the other side of his bed and knelt down.  He fished a full bottle of whiskey out from underneath his mattress.

“Just go put it up on the mantle with the other one,” Ben instructed and watched as his son made the move across the room.  Joe placed it up on top of the mantle and turned back towards Pa.  “Go and place what’s left in that shot glass up there too while you’re at it!”

Joe groaned and made the move to his desk.  He paused and looked down at what was left in the glass and felt his father’s hand on his arm.

“Don’t even think about it!  Now go do as I’ve told you.”

Joe begrudgingly grabbed the shot glass and carried it over to the mantle, placing it next to the two bottles.

“Back here,” Ben called and pointed to the bed once more.

Little Joe took a seat next to his father and waited for him to start back with the lecture.

“I’ve been trying to get you to open up about your feelings about Danny’s death for months now, Boy.  You just refuse to do it.  You’re not going to get over it until you let it out, Joseph,” Pa admonished though his tone was a bit softer due to the situation.

“I don’t have anything to say about it, Pa.  I’ve been telling you that for months and you won’t let it go.”

Ben turned his son’s face to look at him and replied, “You haven’t shed one solitary tear for your best friend.  That stray dog that you found a year ago – when it died you shed more than a few tears over it.  And yet your best friend dies and there’s no sign of grief from you – nothing—that’s not normal, Son.”

“He didn’t just die, Pa – he was killed – by me.  Now please stop – I don’t want to talk about it,” Joe pleaded.

“Everyone’s told you that there’s no proof that it was your bullet – and even if it had been your bullet – it was an accident, Joe, just an accident!”

Joe folded his arms across his chest and just sat there with a blank look on his face showing no sign of any emotion at all.

Ben cleared his throat and decided to get back to other issues as he hadn’t been able to get his son to talk about his friend’s death for months.

“Alright—now about that whiskey, Joseph, you know what I’ve told you before about drinking.  You knew very well that you had no business buying it and hiding it or drinking it every night.  I ought to take you out to the barn and give you a good tanning for what you’ve done.”

“Okay – whatever you want to do,” Little Joe nodded as though it wouldn’t make a bit of a difference to him either way.

“You probably want me to hit you, right?  You feel like you deserve to be punished, isn’t that the crux of the matter?” Ben asked as he stared into his son’s eyes, which were so devoid of emotion.

“Whatever you want to do, Pa,” Joe repeated.

“There’s no reason for me to punish you because you’re punishing yourself enough.  Stand up!” Ben demanded.

Joe drew in a deep breath figuring his father might just take off his belt right there in the bedroom and not bother to go out to the barn at such a late hour.  He stood and faced him and waited.

“Pull up your shirt, Joseph.”

Finally, Joe knew what his father was about to do, and he dreaded it worse than if Pa was readying to give him a tanning.

“I’m okay,” Joe insisted and backed away from the bed.

Ben approached his son and reached his hand over to his shirt.  He tugged on it, freeing it from Joe’s pants.  He noticed his son closing his eyes in preparation for the inspection.

“Look at this wound!” Ben exclaimed lifting the shirt up and staring down at the red and festered looking gouge to his son’s side.  “It should’ve healed months ago, Joseph!  What in the name of God have you been doing to it?”

“I said that I’m okay, Pa.”

Ben turned his son so that he faced the kerosene lamp so he could inspect the wound better.

“This looks like it was done yesterday and not three months ago, Joseph!  Now you’d better tell me what you’ve been doing to it – I want to know right this minute!”

Joe shrugged his shoulders noncommittally and replied, “I don’t know—I guess I’ve just not been taking care of it.”

Ben locked his hands onto the boy’s shoulders and shook his head angrily.  “It’s been opened up – that means you’ve purposely been messing with it.  Why – why, Joseph?  Why in the name of God are you hurting yourself?” Ben cried out, now more worried than he was angry with his boy.

Joe just dropped his head down towards the floor and didn’t answer.

“Joseph—I just don’t know what to do anymore – I really don’t.  You won’t let me help you.  You won’t talk to me – or anyone else about what you’re going through.  You are purposely hurting yourself and for no reason.  On top of all of that you’ve been drinking behind my back – and doing it far more than any seventeen-year-old should ever do!”

“I’m sorry,” Little Joe whispered but still showed no emotion at all.

“No, you’re not—because if you were you’d try to open up to me.  You just keep getting worse and I’m not willing to lose you.  Is this how you honor your best friend?  Do you think Danny would want to see you like this?”

Little Joe refused to respond to what his father had said.  He just stood there next to Pa as he posed his questions.

Ben crossed the room making his way over to his son’s bureau.  He drew out a nightshirt and then approached Joe once more.  “You get yourself into this right now, Young Man.  I’ll be back in here in five minutes as soon as I take this whiskey downstairs and pour it out.”

Joe watched as Pa crossed the room and made it to the door.  “I can’t sleep without it!” He protested.

“Get into that nightshirt right now, Joseph!” Ben demanded and turned out into the hall.

***********

Pa was back up in Joe’s room a short while later and found him in his nightshirt and lying on top of the covers on the bed.  Ben approached his son carrying with him a tray with some medicine on it.  He settled down onto the bed next to Joe.

“I don’t need any medicine,” he complained.

“Lift your nightshirt up,” Ben called down to the boy sternly, ignoring Joe’s protests.

“I’m okay.”

Pa glared at the boy and Joe finally relented and pulled his nightshirt up to his chest.

Ben spread salve onto his son’s wound and then covered it with a cloth bandage.  “This is going to have to do until Doc looks at it tomorrow.”

“I don’t need Doc.”

“Joseph – I’m not in any mood to argue back and forth with you.  Young Man, you’re in enough trouble already.”

Ben stood and placed the medicine back onto the tray and called over to his boy.  “Now you go to sleep.”

“I told you I can’t sleep without the whiskey!” Joe exclaimed as he tugged his nightshirt down.

“Well, you’re going to have to settle for water tonight, Joseph.  Besides you had a shot and a half of rotgut, that ought to tide you over for the time being.  Now close your eyes and I’ll see you in the morning,” Pa replied as he pulled the quilt up from the bottom of the bed and covered his son with it.

“I might just as well get up and go downstairs,” Joe continued as he sat up in his bed.

Ben frowned and raised his eyebrows, “You know I seem to recall that there’s a key to your bedroom door somewhere inside my desk – do I need to go and get it?”

Joe folded his arms across his chest and kept his mouth closed.

Ben opened the door and glanced over at his son and said, “Yes – I thought that might get your attention, Joseph.  Now go to sleep and I’ll talk with you more about all of this in the morning.”

Joe watched as his father closed his door.  He sat up on his bed and yawned.  He knew that he might as well get up and get dressed.  Though Joe was smart enough to wait until he heard Pa’s bedroom door close first.  He listened to the sound before he climbed back off his bed and got dressed again.

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

Ben was not amused when he checked on Little Joe when he awoke only to see the nightshirt lying there on his bed.  Frowning and a bit groggy from very little sleep, he walked down the stairs hoping that some coffee would make him more alert.  He noticed that Hoss and Adam were already seated in the dining room eating their breakfast.

“Morning, Boys,” Ben nodded to them both as he took his seat at the head of the table and poured himself some coffee.

“You look tired, Pa – anything wrong?”

Ben drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to figure out just how much of his conversation with Joe he should share with his brothers.

“Just a long night, Adam.  Have you or Hoss seen Joe?”

“Haven’t been outside yet, Pa – but I’ve not seen him,” Hoss nodded.

“He’s not in his room?” Adam asked, surprised by his father’s question, as Joe was usually the last one to make it to the breakfast table.

Ben shook his head, “No, and I’m not sure if he ever went to sleep last night,” He paused and frowned, deciding that he’d better fill his sons in on a bit of the information he’d garnered the previous night.  “Your little brother has been hiding a lot from the three of us.  For one thing, he’s been drinking and quite a lot.”

“Huh?  I ain’t seen Little Joe go into town,” Hoss said staring over at his father.

“Apparently, he’s found someone around here to buy rotgut for him and has kept a supply up in his room.  He admitted to drinking for the last three months – ever since Danny’s death.”

Hoss and Adam looked back and forth surprised over what Pa had said.

“That kid can’t hold his rotgut, Pa!  I’ve only caught him drinking that stuff once and all it did was to make him throw up,” Adam announced.

“Well, he must’ve built up a tolerance for it because Joseph admitted to chugging three or four shots of whiskey every single night.  He told me that it’s the only way he can sleep,” Pa explained and sipped at his coffee.

“Sounds like the kid needs a trip to the barn with you.”

“No, Adam, that won’t help the situation this time.  Joe is having real problems and that wound to his side – well it never really healed.  I had a look at it, and it looks worse than when it originally happened.”

“I don’t get it, Pa?  I mean Doc fixed it months ago – you even took Joe to see him when the kid lied to you about it being okay,” Hoss replied confused.

Ben shook his head and thought about what he had seen the previous night.  He was afraid of what Joe had been doing to hurt himself and it showed all over his face.  Before he could respond a knock sounded on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Ben called as he stood.  Any distraction was a welcome one that would take his mind off his youngest and his troubles.

Pulling the front door open he saw his foreman standing there.  “Fletcher, come on in,” Ben said and moved out of the way to allow the man to step inside.

“Ben – I – well I need to report a theft.”

“Theft?  What got stolen?”

“Well – I was getting my gear together — you know me and a few of the hands are supposed to go check on the herd today – and I noticed that something was missing from my saddlebags,” Fletcher explained.

Ben crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.  “What’s missing?”

“Well, Ben — I take some snake bite medicine along – you know, just in case?” Fletcher grinned.  He knew that his boss wasn’t happy about anyone indulging in liquor while working on the ranch, but he had known Ben Cartwright for quite some time, and he’d know that he wasn’t the type to overuse the stuff.

“How much did you have?”

“A brand-new pint of whiskey, Ben.  But the strange thing is we must have an honest thief around here—because they left a silver dollar right where that bottle had been.”

“When do you think it was taken?” Ben questioned, now having his suspicions over the identity of the thief.

“I had it yesterday, in fact I’d just bought it at the Silver Dollar, so it had to get taken out of my saddlebags sometime either late last night or early this morning before I woke up.  I checked with the other boys and none of them have it.  I just thought I’d tell you, so you’d know to look out for whoever is taking things around here.”

Ben pursed his lips and tried to figure out how he could best handle the situation.  “I tell you what, Fletcher, you men don’t have to leave for a while yet so why don’t you go into town and take that money and get yourself another bottle?”

“It might put me an hour or so late getting out to the herd, are you sure?”

Ben nodded and smiled as he walked the other man to the door.  “Yes, that’s fine.  And I’ll be sure to find out exactly who took your snake bite remedy.”

Fletcher grinned over at Ben, “Thanks, Boss.”

Closing the door Ben turned to see his two sons standing there taking in the information that the foreman had said.

“Oh, Pa – do you think –,” Hoss started but was cut off by his father.

“Yes, I do,” Ben frowned and moved to the credenza to get his holster.  “I’m going to find that boy and give him a stern talking to.  And after I do that, I’m taking him to see Doc to get that wound looked at.”

“You want some company?”

“No, Adam, I’d better handle this,” Ben returned as he grabbed his hat and opened the front door.  “If Joseph happens to get back here before I find him you two boys hold onto him for me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Hoss nodded and watched as his father hurried to the barn.

**********

Ben grew very frustrated as he tried to find where his youngest had run off to with what was probably yet more pilfered whiskey.  He had tried Joe’s normal haunts, including checking up at Marie’s grave.  There were no flowers next to her headstone, so Ben knew that the boy hadn’t gone there this time.  He presumed that Joe wouldn’t have gone into Virginia City where he might be spotted by friends who would then report back to the Cartwrights about seeing him there.  Finally, the worried father checked the very last place he’d thought that his son would have gone, the grave of Danny Collins.

*** Here you go, Danny *** Joe thought to himself as he tilted the pint of liquor and poured a shot onto his friend’s grave.  Then, just as usual, Joe took a couple good swigs from the bottle and re-corked it.

“Joseph,” Ben called out quietly as he drew close to his son.

Little Joe hadn’t heard his father’s approach and hesitated before turning around to face him.  He had no idea what he’d say to Pa this time, so he remained silent.

“Hand it over,” Ben commanded reaching his hand towards his son.

Joe frowned but knew that there would be no talking his father out of letting him keep the whiskey.  He looked at the ground as he held the bottle out and Pa took hold of it.

Ben examined his son’s face, and just as it had been for months, there was no sadness or sorrow.  There were no tears, nothing to show the grief that he should have had over the loss of his best friend.

“Why are you here?  Is it paying respects to pour out whiskey on Danny’s grave?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Pa.”

Ben took his son by the shoulders and forced him to look into his eyes.  “Joseph if you’d just let it out – just do it!  It’s the only way to get over losing Danny.”

Little Joe showed no emotion in his eyes; there was only a calm numbness in his gaze.  “I don’t have anything to let out, Pa.  Nothing will bring him back so there’s not really any point.  I killed him – and I can’t take that back – not ever.”

“You didn’t kill him!  There isn’t any proof that it was your bullet – how many times do I have to say it, Joseph?  It was an accident – one nobody blames you for except YOU, and you’re killing yourself over it!”

“I’m not killing myself,” Joe returned quietly.

“Oh?  What about all this drinking that you’ve been doing?  You know that’s not good for a boy your age!  And then there’s that wound of yours – one that you’ve purposely opened and now is all festered,” Ben retorted, both worried and frustrated over not being able to get through to his son.

Little Joe dropped his head down and didn’t respond.

“You’re going to go into town with me right now and we’re going to see Doc Martin.  Now mount up!”

Joe turned and walked over to his horse knowing that his father wasn’t going to quit pushing him to get his wound looked at.  He swung up into his saddle and soon Pa was right next to him on Buck.

“Get going,” Ben directed as he pointed towards Virginia City.

**********

Before the doctor examined his patient, the anxious father had pulled Paul into the man’s office to speak privately with him.  Once he knew all the details about Joe’s drinking and his wound, Doc waved Little Joe into the examination room.  Begrudgingly Joe walked inside and was told to remove his shirt.

“Now you just lie back on that table, Little Joe,” Paul instructed as he washed and dried his hands.  After his patient had done as he had been told Doc examined the boy’s wound and shook his head angrily.

“Little Joe Cartwright,” Doc began while wagging his right index finger over at him.  “Do you think I don’t have enough business?  Well, I tell you what – I’ve got plenty, and I don’t need you to undo what I tried to fix.  Unless somebody shot you recently and you didn’t bother to tell your Pa here then you’ve been digging at this wound.  Now fess up, Boy!”

Joe refused to look at the doctor nor answer his question.

“Stubborn little cuss,” Doc muttered and turned to get some medicine over on the counter.  “If you were my son you’d be standing to eat about now,” Paul continued to fuss at the boy.  “Now this is gonna sting so just stay put!” Doc spread some antiseptic over the wound and watched as the area bubbled up.

“How is it, Paul?” Ben asked, drawing closer to his son.

“Well, it’s infected very badly, Ben.  I guess this boy has never heard of sepsis, have you, Joe?”

Joe simply shrugged his shoulders and still refused to look at the doctor.

Paul set his hand down onto his patient’s shoulder and took his other hand and used it to pull Joe’s chin to direct his gaze.  “Little Joe, I’m not playing here.  You ever hear of sepsis?”

“No,” Joe replied quietly after witnessing the expressions of concern laced with anger that both men wore as they stared down at him.

“Well, it can be caused by a wound that gets infected and isn’t treated.  This wound has been opened too many times and if we don’t get it taken care of pretty soon that infection can lead to sepsis and kill you!  Infection can spread through your whole body and then there won’t be a blamed thing that I can do for you.  Now why do you want to go worrying your Pa and me too?” Paul’s voice suddenly became softer in tone as he tried to get through to the boy on the table before it was too late.

“Tell us what you did to that wound, Joseph,” Ben urged his son to tell them the truth so it would be out in the open.

Joe closed his eyes and chewed at his bottom lip, not wanting to reveal how he had purposely harmed himself.

“Tell us,” Paul said and patted the boy’s arm.

“I guess I hit it a few times.”

Ben and Paul exchanged worried glances.  They had both presumed Joe hadn’t taken care of the wound or had accidentally hit it somehow and just hadn’t doctored it, but they hadn’t known that the boy was doing the damage purposely.

“Hit it?  Hit it with what?”

Joe stared down, wondering what his father would think about what he had done.  “I just hit it with my fist a few times.”

“Why’d you do that, Little Joe?” Paul asked softly.

“I – I don’t know.”

Ben sighed and shook his head, upset that his son hadn’t been honest with him the previous night.  He had believed that Joe had accidentally re-injured his side and just didn’t bother to do anything about it, but now the truth was out and the fact that the wound had been purposely opened up made the whole awful situation harder to comprehend.

“I think you know, and I think it’s because of what happened to your friend, Boy,” Paul whispered.  “Now, listen to me.  I’ve handled lots of cases where a ricocheted bullet hit someone.  That’s what got Danny and that’s what got you, Joe.  It was an accident and you both were shot.  Do you think Danny would’ve acted like you are doing if it had been him who lived?”

“Danny’s dead – and I killed him,” Joe muttered.  “I don’t want to talk about this.  If you’re going to fix me up, then fine – if not I want to leave.”

“You stay put, Joseph, and that’s an order!” Ben said sternly and dropped his hand down onto Joe’s right shoulder.

“Little Joe, your Pa told me you’ve been hitting the bottle pretty hard.  Is that true?”

“I’ve just had a few at night – so’s I can sleep.  I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that – I still get up and do my chores,” Joe answered belligerently.

“Well, there, Little Joe, I’ll just show you the harm in doing all that drinking – and it doesn’t matter if you’re seventeen or seventy.  Here,” Paul said and pressed down hard on Joe’s right side just under his ribcage.  “You feel that, Boy?”

Joe winced his face and nodded his head.

“That’s your liver and it’s probably working hard to prevent you from killing yourself with all the liquor you’ve been swilling nightly.  But it can only do so much and then it gets weak and it grows bigger and stops working and then you’ve had it.  It’s a bad way to go, Joe – I’ve tended a whole lot of men who thought that drinking nightly wasn’t a big thing—just like you.”

Paul turned and grabbed some medicine and a spoon.  “You take this for that wound,” He ordered and lifted the spoon to his patient’s lips.  Joe drank it down because he didn’t have any other recourse, especially not with both the doctor and his father teaming up.  “Now,” Paul paused and reached for some ointment and spread it onto the wound in Joe’s side.  “This will help and I’ll send some home with your Pa.  I want this wound to stay dry, so you keep a bandage on it too.”  The doctor walked over to the counter and drew up some cotton wadding and a cloth bandage to put over Joe’s injury.  He placed it there on the boy’s side and turned towards Ben.

“Ben, no more taking Little Joe’s word on how he’s doing until he can start leveling with you.  I want you to give him a tablespoon of the medicine I just gave him twice a day, it will help to stop that infection.  You put that ointment on him the same time you give him the dose.  I’ll come over to the ranch in a couple of days to see how he’s doing.”

“Thank you, Paul,” Ben nodded as the doctor placed the medicine into his hands.

“Go ahead and sit back up, Little Joe, and put your shirt on,” Paul directed.

Joe reached for his shirt held in Pa’s hand.  He shrugged into it and slowly buttoned it up, noticing the looks that passed between both the doctor and his father.

“Little Joe, I don’t want to hear of you drinking ANY liquor at all.  And I mean that!  Do you understand me, Boy?” Paul asked, raising his eyebrows to bring home his point.

“Alright,” Joe returned, though there was a lack of sincerity in his tone of voice.

“Ben, you ride herd on this kid for a while, so we don’t have to cauterize that wound of his.  And keep an eye on what he’s drinking too!”

Offering the doctor his hand to thank him, Ben nodded.  “I will.  Thanks again, Paul.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of days, Little Joe.  Now you take care of yourself, so I don’t have to get my blood pressure up yelling at you again!” Doc smiled and patted the boy’s arm as he climbed down from the examination table.

“Yes, Sir,” Joe muttered and then turned out of the room ahead of his father.

***********

It had been a very quiet ride back home with Pa swept up in his concern for his son and Joe wondering what he was going to do about his wound and his drinking.  He couldn’t think about trying to sleep without numbing himself with whiskey but now that wouldn’t be an option.

“Joseph, you come into the house now,” Ben called over to his son as they tied their reins to the front hitching post.

“I’ll put the horses away.”

“No, not this time.  I’m going to keep my eyes on you.  And when Fletcher gets back tomorrow, you’re going to apologize to him for taking that liquor!”

Joe dropped his head down to his chest, embarrassed to discover that Pa had known where he had gotten the pint of whiskey.  “I left money to pay for it,” he announced somberly.

Ben reached for his son’s arm and forced his gaze.  “It doesn’t matter that you left money, you stole it, Joseph!  I have enough problems right now due to your behavior.  I’m not going to debate with you over the technicalities of what is theft and what is creative borrowing.  Now get inside.”

Joe walked into the ranch with his father at his heels.  He hated that everything was out in the open now from his drinking to his stealing and what he was doing to his wound.

“You go on up to your room and lie down,” Ben insisted and pointed to the stairs.

Little Joe walked up to his room not because his father told him to do so but because he had wanted to get away from him.  He presumed that he was going to get yet another lecture from Pa the next time he saw him, and Little Joe dreaded it.

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

That night Joe just toyed with his dinner and avoided conversation at the table.  He knew that his brothers had heard all the stories about him by then and Little Joe didn’t need to listen to anyone else’s reprimands.  Pa had already gone a bit overboard in that department, or so Joe thought.  He had come up an hour before supper to put medicine on his wound and while doing so he had admonished his son thoroughly on the dangerous path he was heading down.  Pa had also chastised him about taking the liquor from Fletcher’s personal belongings and reminded Joe that he’d better be fast with an apology the following day.  Throughout Pa’s lecture and warnings Joe had simply stood there and nodded as he didn’t have anything more to offer him.  All he could think about was the fact that he’d have to try to fall asleep without any whiskey for the first time in almost three months.  Little Joe doubted he could do it as he had tried to fall asleep unassisted quite a few times in the past and had always ended up turning back to alcohol to help him.

Waiting patiently in his bed, Joe listened to the footsteps in the hall as they drew closer to his room.  He knew that Pa would pay him one more visit before turning in for the night.  As his father turned the doorknob and eased quietly into the room, Joe pretended that he was fast asleep in his bed.  He soon felt Pa’s hand on his forehead pushing his unruly bangs aside.  Little Joe held his breath hoping that he looked convincing enough.  When he heard Pa’s bootsteps retreating out of his room and heading across the hall he gave a relieved sigh, however he decided to wait a bit longer to get out of bed.  He needed to make sure that both of his brothers had also turned in like his father had.  Joe sat up in his bed and listened intently.  He heard Adam calling a soft goodnight to Hoss and then he waited for the sound of both bedroom doors closing.  Joe held his place for a little while longer, making sure that they all were deep in slumber before he attempted to leave his room.

The house was cloaked in silence other than the soft metallic clicking of the grandfather clock there by the front door.  Tip-toeing on his bare feet, Little Joe walked over to his father’s desk and to the small table where Pa always kept a bottle of brandy.  Always that is, until now.  Joe frowned and wondered why it wasn’t out in the open unless it was to keep temptation away from anyone who might pretend that they were asleep and were carefully sneaking around after midnight.  He next tried the bottom drawer to his father’s desk, as Pa was known to keep an extra bottle for unexpected guests there.  The drawer was dreadfully empty.  Joe stepped across to the other side of the desk and opened the cabinet where there should be a bottle of whiskey that was rarely used around the place.  It was gone.  He frowned and shook his head, realizing that Pa must have thought a few steps ahead of him that night.

*** Well, there’s always Hop Sing’s cooking sherry. *** Joe thought to himself and groaned softly.  *** It’s not going to be as strong as rotgut but maybe if I drink enough, it will do the trick. *** He mused as he silently walked across the room and into the kitchen.

Joe’s sojourn into Hop Sing’s territory proved futile and as he headed back into the living room, he just shook his head.  ***No brandy, no whiskey and not one solitary drop of cooking sherry either.  I could go and see what I can find in the bunk house but if I get caught out there Pa will raise the roof. *** 

The moment he made it back into the living room he heard someone clearing their throat.  Shooting a surprised glance over to the stairs, Joe winced his face when he spotted his father.  Pa was just standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a piercing gaze aimed right at him.

“Were you looking for anything in particular, Joseph?” Ben sounded out with irritation in his tone.

“I just came down to get some water,” Joe remarked quietly, avoiding his father’s eyes.

Ben crossed the room and stopped a few inches shy of his son.  “That’s odd – when I gave you your medicine just a few hours ago you had an entire pitcher of water right next to your bed.”

Finally looking up Little Joe drew in a deep breath and confessed, “Alright, Pa – I wanted something a little stronger than water to drink — but I guess you took care of that.”

“Yes, I did.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Joseph, you can’t keep drinking like you’ve been doing, Paul told you what it will do to you in the long run.  Now go upstairs and try it again.”

“I tell you I can’t!” Joe shouted, raising his hands in gesture.   “You don’t know what it’s like to just lay there hour after hour and never going to sleep – not all night!”

Ben placed his hand onto his son’s shoulder and shook his head.  “Hold your voice down, your brothers are sleeping –,”

Joe cut his father off, “Well, it’s nice that THEY can sleep!  I can’t – and all I want is one drink of anything that will help me.”

“No.”

“Never mind — I’ll just go sit up in my room until daylight!” Joe returned angrily and began to walk away.

Ben caught a hold of the boy’s elbow to prevent his escape.  “Joseph, you need to deal with the cause of your insomnia.  Now, why don’t we sit down and talk?”

“I told you there’s nothing to say, Pa.  Go on to bed – you might as well get some sleep like everyone else in this house except me.”

“I just don’t understand, Son, you and I have always been able to work things out before—why won’t you let me help you with this?”  Ben pried softly hoping that he could somehow get through to the boy.

Joe shook his head and a frown overtook his face.  “Pa, some things can get talked out – and some things can’t.  No amount of talk is going to bring Danny back and no amount of talk is going to take away the fact that I killed him.”

Ben grabbed his son by the shoulders and held on tightly.  “Joseph – was Danny trying to kill you?” He fired back sharply for effect.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, if you’re insisting that it was your bullet that struck Danny then that means it was his bullet that struck you.  So?  Was he trying to kill you?”

Little Joe attempted to hold back his anger over what his father had said.

“Did Danny try and kill you?” Ben reiterated, growing louder.

“No!  Danny wasn’t trying to kill me – he was my best friend!”

“Were YOU trying to kill Danny?”

“You know I wouldn’t do that – but it doesn’t change the fact that I did, Pa!”

Ben shook his head wearily and responded, “Joseph, it doesn’t matter which bullet hit either of you.  Now there’s a good chance that the bullet that Danny fired hit him and the one you fired hit you.”

“There’s just as much of a chance that I shot Danny with my gun, Pa!”

“Then that means that Danny shot you!  If he had killed you would you want him to drink himself into an early grave?  Would you want him to purposely hurt himself like you’ve done by opening up that wound over and over again?”

Joe frowned as he stared into his father’s eyes, “Pa, I killed my best friend—and I have to live with it.  That’s the end of the discussion.”

“If you let this destroy you then there’ll be two fathers who are grieving, Joseph.  You’ve just got to let go of this, Son, – mourn for Danny – cry tears of grief but let it out.”

Joe couldn’t take Pa’s penetrating gaze any longer.  He finally broke free of his hold and hurriedly walked away.  Ben stood there with heaviness in his heart as he watched his son climbing the stairs.  He settled down into his chair and dropped his face into his hands, frustrated over his lack of progress in getting through to the boy.  He prayed for the right words to say which would help Joseph before it was too late.

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

“Hey, Pa,” Hoss called across the room as he came in the front door the next afternoon.  “Fletcher sure isn’t very happy with Joe.  I heard him a little bit ago and he was giving the kid a piece of his mind.”

Ben stood from his chair as Hoss made it over to the settee and sat down.  “What did he say?”

“Well, he told Joe to keep his hands off of his things and that the next time he catches the kid doing something like that he’s going to steal Cochise and sell her,” Hoss returned, fighting his grin.

Ben nodded to his son glad that the foreman hadn’t let his youngest off the hook about his theft.  “Good.  Knowing Fletcher he spoke his mind.”

“You can say that again!” Hoss exclaimed.  “Joe was just standing there with his mouth hanging open.  Fletcher let him have it.  One thing’s for sure; he’s not going after anything of Fletcher’s again.  I wouldn’t put it past that man to follow through with his threat.”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure that your little brother won’t be touching anything out in that bunkhouse ever again.  Now if I could just figure out how to get Joseph to open up to me about Danny’s death,” Ben sighed and turned when the door opened again.

“The kid really got it by Fletcher, Pa,” Adam smiled as he returned from a trip to Virginia City.  “I heard him trying to apologize when I rode up.”

“Is he still going after Joseph?”

“Yes, Sir — Joe keeps trying to alibi his way out of it and Fletcher keeps telling him to shut up and listen.”

Hoss laughed and shook his head.  “I wonder if one of us ought to go out there and break it up, Pa?”

“No,” Ben replied adamantly.  “It’ll do him good.”

Adam joined Hoss on the settee and stared over at his father.  “I still can’t believe Joe thought it was okay to just take Fletcher’s liquor.”

“Oh, he thought that since he left money in place of that pint it was okay,” Hoss remarked after having listened to his little brother’s earlier explanation.

“Well, that’s not cutting it with Fletcher,” Adam laughed.

Ben cleared his throat to bring attention to the room.  “While your brother gets a good tongue lashing maybe we can figure out how to help him?  I’ve been trying to come up with something to say or do for the boy all morning, but I’ve not figured out anything thus far.”

“I’ve been thinking on it, Pa.  Hoss, will you go out with me tomorrow to the spot where Joe and Danny were practicing their shooting?  I just wanted to get a good look.”

“Sure I will— but why?”

“I don’t know exactly – I know Roy already looked at the ledge where they had those bottles and cans stacked up.  We know that the two of them got hit, but maybe if we examine the place a little better it might help determine how it happened?”

“It might prove Joseph’s theory that he shot Danny, Son,” Ben returned glumly.

“If it does, Pa, neither of us will say a thing about it,” Hoss reassured.

“I guess it won’t hurt the situation any —,” Ben trailed off when the front door opened and a very tired looking Joe walked inside.

“Have a nice talk with Fletcher?” Adam smiled over at his brother.

Joe frowned after hearing his brother’s question and then headed for the stairs.  “I’m gonna go up to my room for a while,” he called over his shoulder.

“I’ll be up in a few minutes to doctor that wound of yours, Joseph.”

Little Joe didn’t respond but continued his trek up to his room.

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

All three of the Cartwrights had heard Joe pacing his bedroom floor, never going to sleep for the second straight night.  Pa had gone to talk to the boy but as usual hadn’t been able to talk any sense into him.  Ben had given Joe some minor chores to keep him occupied the next day as his other sons rode up to the scene of the accident.  They returned late in the afternoon and told Pa what they had learned and plotted how to get Little Joe back up there the next day.

***********

“Where did Hoss and Adam go, Pa?” Joe asked as he tightened the saddle cinch on Cochise.

“I think they had some errands in town, Joseph.  Now mount up,” Ben answered as he swung into the saddle.

“You never said where we’re going.”

“There’s something I need to show you.  Let’s go.”

Little Joe rode alongside his father wondering what the big mystery was all about.  He hadn’t felt like taking a ride as he was exhausted after two straight nights with no sleep.  But Pa had been adamant about him riding out with him and Joe was too tired to protest.

Joe pulled back hard on his reins when he realized that they were just a quarter of a mile from where Danny had been killed.

“I’m not going there, Pa!” He shouted.

Ben reached over and touched his son’s shoulder.  “Joseph, let’s go.  It’s time, Boy.”

“No!”

“I said let’s go,” Ben insisted sternly.

“Why?  Why do you want to put me through this?” He asked with hurt framing his words.

“Joseph, your brothers have something to show you.  I told you a necessary lie earlier, they’re going to meet us up there.  Now get going.”

Joe fought his dread about seeing the spot where his best friend had fallen but Pa was not going to give up so he had to acquiesce.  He reluctantly kicked at Cochise’s sides and the two of them headed northward.

***********

Hoss and Adam watched as their father and brother dismounted and tied their reins to a choke-cherry bush.

“Over here, Pa,” Adam sang out.  He could read the uneasiness spreading across Joe’s face as the two men approached.

“What’s this all about?” Little Joe asked fighting his anger over the whole situation.  All he wanted to do was to mount Cochise and ride away and never look back.

“Well, Joe, I’ve finally had a good look at this ledge and think we can determine where each bullet hit and the angles that they took,” Adam explained.

“That won’t prove anything!”  Joe returned hotly.  He still just wanted to jump on his horse and ride away.  Joe stared at the spot where his best friend had drawn his last breath, and it sent a sharp pain into his heart.

“Joe,” Adam replied softly and touched his brother’s arm.  “It’s worth learning the truth, isn’t it?  No matter who shot who we’ll finally determine it if you’ll just listen to me.”

Little Joe dropped his head down and muttered, “I know that I killed Danny, Adam.”

“Pa – you and Joe need to line up over here.  Joe, you show us exactly where you and Danny were standing,” Hoss jumped in and tried to help the tenseness that hung in the air.

“Joseph?” Ben asked, raising his eyebrows.  “Show me where to stand, I’ll take Danny’s place.”

Drawing in a deep breath filled with remorse, Joe walked over to where he remembered that the two of them shot from on that fateful day.  “I was here,” Joe pointed to the ground.  “And Danny was standing about two feet off to my left.”

Ben moved over to where his youngest had pointed and stood.

“Okay, Pa – since you’re about two inches taller than Danny, when you pull your gun just drop it down about that much,” Adam instructed.

“Let’s get the shells out of our guns, Joseph,” Ben said and pulled the Colt out of his holster.  He shucked the six bullets, placing them inside his shirt pocket.  He stared over at Joe.

“Joseph?” Ben called when the boy had yet to disarm his weapon.

“I don’t need to,” Joe whispered.

Confusion spread across the faces of Adam, Hoss, and Ben.

“What do you mean?” Pa continued.

“It’s not loaded.”

“Why, Joseph?”

Joe simply shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the ground.

“Boys, we’ll be back in a minute.  Come along, Joseph,” Ben said and pulled the boy along with him.  They ended up there next to their horses.

“Joseph, are you running around with an empty gun?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“How long?  How long have you been running around with an empty gun?” Pa continued.

“Since Danny,” Joe confessed sullenly.

“And your rifle?” Pa asked looking over to where the boy’s other weapon sat in the scabbard.

“It’s empty too,” Joe answered quietly.

Ben drew in a deep breath unsure as to what he should do about the present situation.  “You and I are going to have a long talk about this when we get home, Son.  It’s dangerous to ride around this ranch and into town without being able to defend yourself.  You could run into someone who means you harm or even an animal that charges at you —- Joseph – it’s why I gave you that gun to begin with.”  Ben had to put aside his increasing worry so they could get back to uncovering the truth about the death of Danny.  He sighed and draped an arm around his son’s shoulder and called down to him, “Now, let’s go back and see what Adam can come up with.” Ben had to let go of the current worry over his son’s safety so they could hopefully determine the path of the two bullets.  He steered his youngest back to where they had been standing earlier.

“We’re ready, Adam, what now?” Ben asked.

“Joe?  Are you both about where you and Danny were?”

“Yes.”

“Okay – well both of you unholster your weapons.  Joe, go ahead and aim like you did that day when the two of you shot and just hold your gun out.”

Joe frowned but did as he had been instructed.  “How’s this going to prove anything? I drew quick – and I guess Danny did too.  We’d been practicing our fast draw – and neither of us had much time to aim.”

“Hoss, get those lariats, will you?” Adam called over to his brother.

Hoss had prepared two sets of rope, knotting two together for both Joe and Pa.  He carried them over to Adam and held them out.

“Okay, when I was in college, I had to take trigonometry and that’s the study of angles, Joe.  If we line up the two places where those bullets hit and ricocheted back at the two of you, we ought to be able to see which bullet from which gun hit you and Danny.” Adam pointed to where he and Hoss had found the two holes in the rock ledge the previous day.  “Hoss, I’ll hold the end here next to this first hole, and you go and take the first lariat over to where Pa’s gun is.”

Hoss gathered the rope and straightened it out, so it was taunt.  He walked in a straight line over to his father and held the end up to Pa’s Colt.

Adam held the other end of the lariat and eyed the path going back towards Ben.  “Drop the gun down about two inches, Pa.”

Ben held onto his Colt as Hoss placed the end of the rope against the barrel.

“If this was the hole that was caused by Danny’s shot then we’re going to assume that he hit you, Little Joe.  So, Pa you keep a hold of that rope at the end of your gun while I help string the other lariat over to Joe.”  Adam unwound the second lariat and held it up against the original hole in the rock ledge as Hoss came back to him.  “Now take this one and move it to Joe’s right side where he got hit, Hoss.”

Standing there rigidly as Hoss approached Joe waited to see what, if anything, Adam’s test proved or disproved.  Hoss touched the end of the rope to his little brother’s right side dead center to where his bandage was underneath his shirt.

“How’s that, Adam?” Hoss sang out.

Inspecting the angle Adam replied, “Yes, that’s got it, Hoss.  I’d say that bullet couldn’t have hit you, Joe.  It would’ve careened off way past you.  Just look at the slack in the rope.  Hoss tighten it so we can all see better!”

Hoss did as his brother had said and there wasn’t any way that he could hold it straight enough so that it would have hit Joe anywhere near his wound or the right side of his body.

“What’s that prove?” Joe called over to Adam, still not convinced.  “What if Danny’s bullet hit that other hole there?” Joe pointed to the hole to the right of the one where his brother held the far end of the lariat.

“Okay, I’ll show you.  Hoss bring that rope back here and we’ll move everything.”

Again, Adam lined up another hole and had Hoss walk back to Pa and hold one end up to the barrel of his gun.  Ben held it in place once again.  He then took the second lariat and had Hoss move it over to where Joe stood.

“It ain’t even close,” Hoss announced.  “I don’t see any way that bullet could have come near to Joe if Danny shot that, Adam,” Hoss nodded over to him.

“Okay, now let’s use the two ropes and line them up with the end of Little Joe’s gun, Hoss.”

The experiment was re-sited and Adam held the one end in the first bullet hole in the ledge as Hoss straightened it out and eased over to Joe.

“Okay, Joe if you shot the hole to the left then we’ll show you where it would’ve hit.  Hoss come take this lariat and move it towards Pa.”

Hoss stretched the rope and brought it to his father.  The rope sagged and wouldn’t go into a straight line no matter how many times he tried.  All the while Joe watched.

“Joe, there’s just no way from the angle that’s created by your gun with your height where you’re standing that you hit this hole here,” Adam announced and pointed to the hole on the left.  “Now we’ll try the one on the right, Hoss.  Drag the rope back here and let’s do it all again.

Hoss repeated the experiment as they sited the hole on the right and lined it up to the barrel of Joe’s gun.  Then, as Adam held the second rope, Hoss brought it over to his little brother’s wound and it was a perfect match.

“Joe, you hit this one on the right, look at the angle!” Adam called over.

Joe stared down at the lariat and wondered if his brothers might be pulling a fast one on him to get him to give up on the fact that he had killed his best friend.  “So, you’re saying I hit that hole in the wall on the right?  Then prove to me that Danny hit the other one!”

“Hoss — -go ahead and bring that rope back here and we’ll line the hole on the left up with Pa’s gun barrel.”

Hoss assisted Adam once again and they lined both the first and second rope up using Pa’s gun as an example.  When the second rope was in place it made a direct line to Pa’s chest, just two inches higher than where Danny had been struck.

“See there, Joe?  Pa is taller than Danny and if Hoss drops that rope down – hey – Hoss go ahead and do it.”

Hoss placed the rope right where Danny would have stood two inches shorter than his father.  It was a match.

“See, Joe?  Danny hit this hole on the left and the bullet ricocheted back and got him.  You hit the hole on the right, and it just struck at a different angle, which was why it didn’t hit your chest like Danny’s did.  It hit your side due to the hole in the wall being a bit lower and striking differently.”

Ben stared over at his youngest and called to him softly, “Your brother is right, Joseph.”

Joe drew in a deep breath, wanting to believe that it was all true to relieve him of his guilt.  “How accurate is this stuff, Adam?”

Adam pulled himself to standing and approached his youngest brother.  “Well, there’s rarely an experiment that proves to be one hundred per cent accurate, Kid.  But I’d say that we proved it by at least ninety-nine per cent that your bullet struck you in the side and Danny’s bullet hit him in the chest.”

“Ninety-nine?” Joe asked quietly, taking it all in and processing the information.

“That one per cent is where your faith comes in, Son,” Ben smiled down to his youngest.

Joe drew in another deep breath and replied, “Adam – Hoss – Pa – thanks – I appreciate it.  I – well I need to be by myself for a little while.”

“Joseph?  I’m not letting you run off until you put these inside your gun,” Pa announced sternly and withdrew the shells he had placed inside his shirt pocket earlier.  He held them out to Joe.

Joe nodded and accepted the cartridges.  One by one he placed them inside of his Colt.  “I won’t be long, Pa – just need to go think,” Joe offered as he turned to get his horse.

The three Cartwrights watched as Joe headed away from them, each hoping that they had gotten through to the boy and relieved him of his guilt over his friend’s death.

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

When dinner came and went but there was no sign of Joe’s return everyone was worried.  Pa had decided to go out and try to find his son when the door opened and he suddenly reappeared.

“Sorry I was late,” Joe apologized, settling his gun and hat down onto the credenza.

“Are you okay?” Pa asked as he drew near and inspected his son’s face.  There were no signs of any tears having been spent like he had hoped.  Ben knew that Joe had held in his grief for three straight months and he figured that now that the boy knew the truth about the shooting that he’d finally let go.  But apparently that hadn’t happened.

“I’m okay, Pa.  I think I’ll just turn in.  Thanks again – all of you,” Little Joe called over to his brothers who were gathered around the fireplace.

“Hope you can sleep tonight, Little Brother,” Hoss said as he watched the boy heading to the stairs.

“Yeah, Kid, get some sleep it’s been a couple of days,” Adam offered his thoughts.

“Good night,” Joe answered and made his way to his room.

“What do you think, Pa?” Hoss asked, concern still written all over his face.

Ben shrugged his shoulders and sighed.  “I don’t know, Son—I think Joe’s still trying to process everything.  I sure hope he’ll get some shut eye he sure needs it.”

Both Adam and Hoss followed their father’s concerned gaze as it trekked up to where Joe had disappeared up the staircase.

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

As I entered my son’s bedroom, I wondered just how I would be received by my youngest.  It was only after he turned in the bed and glanced my way that I could tell from his gaze what he was both thinking and feeling at that moment.  All I could see in his eyes was grief, guilt, self-loathing and pain that was so deep that it was laying bare his very soul.  Joseph was having a hard time coming to terms with all that he had heard that day.  It was almost as though he was afraid to let go of being the one responsible for having killed Danny even though his brothers had proven that the bullet that took his life hadn’t been Joe’s.  He was in a deep state of grief, and it had come on him hard that day.   After holding back any display of emotion for three straight months, he was due.

Now, just as I would have done when Joseph was ten years old and had gotten his heart broken or had been in trouble at school, I neared his bed in total silence.

There wasn’t a need for a stern lecture or for me to spout some kind of sage wisdom or the like.  None of that would help the current situation and, quite the contrary, would make everything far worse.  I knew that my son needed sleep, something which had evaded him ever since I removed his access to liquor.  Joe had been dulling his senses with alcohol for most of the time since Danny’s death.  Since then, night after night, he had paced the floor in his room fighting the memory of all that had happened the day that his best friend died.  There was only one thing that I knew to do to get my son to fall to sleep.

As I eased down onto the side of the bed and stretched out, leaning back against the headboard, I simply held out my arms.  Joseph knew the meaning of my gesture and, hesitating at first, his eyes showed the flicker of remembrance in them.  I could tell that the desire to be comforted by his father was what his heart secretly had longed for as my son turned on the bed and slowly found his way into my embrace.  I wrapped him tightly in my arms and waited.  Minutes later, his muffled cries reverberated against my chest.  They had been far too long in coming.  I didn’t need to give Joseph permission to get it all out, he just knew that it was safe to do so there in my presence.  That’s how it’s always been between the two of us.  My son realized that it was finally time to vent out his sorrow in the only way that he could.  He knew that his pa understood him and the complexity of his temperament.  Foremost, Joseph knew that I loved him with all my heart so that whenever he hurt, I hurt, and just as deeply.  When he couldn’t express how he felt in words it didn’t matter.  I already knew what he would have said anyway.  My boy understood there wasn’t anything he couldn’t share with me, both good and bad.  He trusted me, always had.  Joseph had turned to me, and I cherished the fact that with that trust came the knowledge that I’d keep his secrets, like the fact that under his false bravado was an insecure young man whose heart was easily injured.  Under that quick smile and quirky laugh was a very sensitive soul, one that he hid from everyone; everyone but me.  I softly ran my hand over the back of his head, my fingers combing through the thick brown curls just as I had always done ever since he was a little boy.  I knew he’d draw comfort from the familiar feel of my caress and that the touch would eventually lull him to sleep.  Though he’d still have to fight through grief and pain perhaps for weeks or months to come, at least this night he had surrendered it all over to his Pa so he could have a brief respite from both emotions allowing him to get some sleep.  When his body went lax there in my arms and I felt the warm even breaths against my neck, I carefully reached for the lamp on the nightstand and drew the wick down low.  It was then that I whispered, “Your Pa’s got you, Joseph, rest now,” and closed my eyes.  I fell to sleep still holding my son in my arms refusing to allow the pain to take hold of him as long as I was there.  I knew that in the morning I would no longer have complete control over what happened as far as Joseph’s grief and pain were concerned.   However, tonight I was in control, and neither grief nor pain would ever be able to penetrate my resolve to protect my son nor remove him from my loving embrace.

***********

Epilogue:

After having found patience and loving kindness in the comforting arms of his father, Little Joe slowly began to heal over the loss of his best friend.  His wound healed as well and after two weeks Doctor Martin was relieved to see Joe had been taking care of it and his side was almost completely well again.  There were still times when Joe had trouble sleeping but had turned to Pa those nights and he would do whatever he could to help his son.  Hoss and Adam helped too, always being supportive of their little brother and trying their best to help him through his grief.

Piece by piece Joe’s heart healed from his loss and though he’d always miss Danny, he knew that he had to go on with his life.  Hugh Collins had come back to his ranch along with his son Matt and daughter-in- law Mary Ann.  Along with the two of them came Hugh’s first grandchild, Danny, and the baby had been a comfort to the man.  All the Cartwrights were present when the baby had been christened by their local pastor, Philip Hastings.  Afterwards Joe had been pulled aside by Hugh, and the man told him that he wanted the boy to remember Danny’s life and not how he had died.  Little Joe promised Hugh that he would try his best and thanked him for the chance to hold the baby after the service.  With his son now returning to the ranch along with his wife and baby, Hugh reminded Little Joe that he expected him to come visit them all just as Danny would have wanted.  Smiling and shaking Hugh’s hand Joe assured him that he would do just that.

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

On the fourth month anniversary of Danny’s death Little Joe had made a somber visit to his friend’s grave.  He didn’t bring a whiskey bottle as he had so many times in the past and simply placed a handful of wildflowers there next to the headstone.

“I wish you could see your nephew, Danny, he’s really something,” Joe whispered as he knelt there at the graveside.  “I miss you, Danny – you’ll always be my best friend – and I’ll miss all the things we used to do together.  Little Joe mopped his eyes as the tears continued to roll down his cheeks.  “It hurts to say goodbye to you – but I know that I have to, Danny.  It’s never going to be the same without you at my side.”

Little Joe turned when he heard the quiet footsteps coming from behind him.  He looked up to see his father standing there.

“Oh, Pa – I’ve just said my final goodbye to Danny – but –,” Joe trailed off as he attempted to wipe the tears from his face.  “Pa – he was my best friend.  He always made me feel better about myself – you know?  Pa – Pa I’m afraid – afraid that I’ll never find anyone who’ll understand me like Danny did.  I mean—where am I ever gonna find someone who’s going to root me on like he did?  Where am I ever gonna find someone who will listen to my lame stories and my stupid jokes?”

Ben offered his son a patient smile and reached a hand down to pull the boy to standing.  Little Joe looked into his father’s eyes and read the concern in them.

Reaching over Pa placed his right hand on his son’s cheek and answered, “Oh, Joseph, you said that you’re afraid that no one will appreciate you like Danny did?  Well, if you just look past your fear — you’ll see me standing right here.  You asked who’s going to root you on – listen to your lame stories and stupid jokes?” He paused and grinned over to the boy and then stated adamantly, “I will.”

Joe wrapped his arms around his father as Pa pulled him to his chest.  “That’s not fair, Pa,” Joe choked out.  “You always have.”

Ben nodded and patted his son on the back.  “That’s right – and I always will.  C’mon, Joseph, let’s go home.”

Little Joe wrapped an arm around his father’s waist as they walked together to their horses.

*** If you just look past your fear, you’ll see me standing right here. Ask me I’ll be there whenever you fall, to do anything, everything, nothing at all.  I’ll move any mountain that keeps you from me, I’ll change rearrange, disappear in your dreams.  Please don’t ask me to let go or make me give up, cause I love you that much.  And it’ll kill me, but I will. ***

The End

Written by: Wrangler

1/8/2026

(Dedicated to Rob the story consultant for his continued patience.  And, to my dear friend Michael who sadly passed away today.  Mike, you’ll never be forgotten.)