Summary: Francois Balantaire, a spurned suitor of Marie Cartwright’s, travels two thousand miles and twenty years to seek vengeance on her by scarring her son, Little Joe. Rating T, WC 24,425

Beautiful in My Eyes

*** We’ll have our fill of tears, our share of sighs, my only prayer is that you realize.  You’ll always be beautiful in my eyes.  You will always be beautiful in my eyes.  And the passing years will show that you will always grow, ever more beautiful in my eyes. *** (excerpt of song “Beautiful in My Eyes” written by Joshua Kadison)

Hoss Cartwright gave a toothful grin as he watched his little brother out on the dance floor trying his best to keep up with the lively girl on his arm.  He chuckled knowing that Little Joe was doing his best to grab the attention of another young lady who stood by the punch bowl with two young men on either side of her.  Hoss knew that Joe was busy flirting with two other young ladies, hoping that the newest girl in town, Linda Dow, would take notice.  When the fiddlers finally stopped, taking a short break, Hoss walked over to his brother.

“Now, Little Brother, don’t you go hogging the attention of this pretty little gal,” Hoss grinned as he looked down at the petite brunette.  “Come on, Ginny, give me a chance to show you who’s the best dancer in the family.”

“Do you mind, Joe?” Ginny asked, smiling up at Hoss.

“No, you two go have fun.  I think I’ll go get some punch.  Now don’t step on her toes, Hoss – you’ll squish her!” Joe sent off a string of his quirky laughter and patted his brother on the back.

Linda watched as Little Joe approached the table and smiled over at the handsome young man.  She had already met and heard all about the youngest of the Cartwright family and was very captivated by his brilliant hazel eyes and handsome face.

“Nice dance – are you having a good time, Linda?” Joe asked as he drew closer and poured a cup of punch.  He didn’t want to appear too anxious, but he wanted the young lady to know that he was interested in her.

“Yes, I’ve had a fine time, Little Joe.  Of course, I’m surprised you even noticed I was here – what with you dancing with just about every girl in this place.”

Joe grinned as he moved closer, gently pushing away the young man standing on Linda’s right side.  “No – not everyone – I’ve not danced with you yet.  Would you like to go out there with me now?”

Linda turned and sent a coquettish smile over to both men who she had been talking to and said, “Excuse me, Gentlemen.”

Hoss nodded to his little brother when Joe passed him on the dance floor.  He knew that Little Joe would somehow find a way to get the girl to agree to dance with him.

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

The dance lasted until just before midnight and when Linda’s father arrived to take her home in his surrey, she had promised Little Joe that she would go with him to the church social at the end of the month.  Joe felt triumphant when she allowed him to plant a soft kiss on her cheek before she left with her pa.

“Well, as always, you got a gal to take notice of you, Little Brother,” Hoss teased as he walked across the barn to meet up with their older brother, Adam.

“Yep, and Linda is going to let me take her to the church social – it’s a start.  Plus, she let me give her a kiss right before her pa showed up.  I’d say that was progress,” Joe grinned over the way things had turned out that night.

“Hey, you two I could use some help back here.  I said we’d move the two refreshment tables into the supply room and take care of the extra instruments too,” Adam pointed to two fiddles and a banjo.  “The other musicians asked me to put them up for them.”

“Hoss,” Joe grinned.  “It sounds like a job for you.  I’m not musically inclined!”

“Oh, no you don’t!  You’re gonna help,” Hoss insisted.

“Okay — I’ll go get the surrey from the livery and bring it over here.  Then since I brought Cochise, I’ll just follow you two old men home, so you don’t get lost.”

“Little Joe!” Hoss yelled as the boy turned and beat a fast exit.  “Dad Burn his ornery hide.  He never sticks around to do any work!”

“That’s okay, Brother, we’ll get him back tomorrow.  Pa should have gotten home from Gold Hill by now and I’ll just drop a few hints about Little Joe not exactly working as hard as he should have over the last three days and he will handle it.  Little Joe will have plenty of extra chores to do by the time Pa is done with him!” Adam nodded over to Hoss wearing a satisfied smirk on his face.

Hoss laughed in response and nodded his head.  “Good, he’ll never know what hit him.”

“Okay, let’s get these instruments and those tables moved into the back room, then we’ll meet up with Joe when he brings the surrey around,” Adam handed Hoss two of the instruments and then, grabbing his guitar and the banjo, walked to the very back of the barn where the storage room was located.

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

Little Joe was surprised at how quickly all of those who had been at the barn dance had vanished leaving the main street in Virginia City looking very dark and deserted.  It was just a three-block walk down to Pete Hanson’s livery stable but that night it felt much longer to Joe.  For some strange reason the hair on the back of his neck felt as though it was standing on end.  He pulled up the collar of his jacket and tried to shake off his uneasiness.  Little Joe’s thoughts went back to Linda and how pretty she had looked in her violet dress with the dark satin sash.  He couldn’t wait until the end of the month when he would get the chance to know her better and maybe steal another kiss.  Joe was shaken from his thoughts of the girl when he thought he heard footsteps other than his.  He stopped dead in his tracks and listened. The sound of the other bootsteps had stopped as fast as they had started and the only thing he could hear was the beating of his heart which, at the present time, was racing.  ***Come on, Joe, yeah, you’re alone and it’s dark but don’t let that spook you.  You’re seventeen — not a little kid anymore!  I’m almost there anyway and Pete will hand over the surrey and Cochise and in a few minutes Adam and Hoss will be ribbing me about all the girls I danced with tonight. *** Joe turned and scanned his surroundings but didn’t see anyone. *** I’ll be there in just a minute, relax Joe. *** He thought to himself and turned back and continued down the street trying to will away his sudden apprehension.

The shadow danced into the alleyway, moving too fast for the young man to catch its movement.  Two dark eyes watched the boy in the blue corduroy jacket as he continued down the street towards the livery stable.  He had waited patiently for over a week for Joseph Cartwright to make an appearance in town and had watched at a distance from the corner of the barn as the boy made his way around the dance floor.  It was finally time to see exactly what Marie Cartwright’s son looked like and not from a distance, as he was when he had been pointed out to him when he arrived in Virginia City, but up close.

“Pete?  Pete, you here?”  Joe called as he stepped into the darkened livery stable.  The owner and operator had promised Joe that he’d stay around until after the dance was over, but he was nowhere to be seen.  Bending down to grab a lantern just inside the double door of the stable, Joe heard a noise behind him.  Thinking that it was Pete, Joe spun around.  Before he could cry out or try to block himself from the assailant, he felt a strong blow to the side of his head.  Collapsing onto the hay covered floor he fought to catch his breath.  Looking up he saw the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway.

Pulling himself first to his knees and then to standing, Joe staggered towards the door.  His head throbbed and his thoughts clouded as he tried to catch sight of who had struck him.  “Hey— hey –who’s there?” Joe asked dazed and fighting off his nausea.

“Goodnight to you, Joseph,” The cloaked figure laughed and sent another blow to the boy’s head with the end of a wooden mallet.  He watched as the young man, now rendered unconscious, landed prone on the ground.  “Now, to get you out of here before anyone sees us.  Come along,” The man whispered as he lifted Joe up in his arms and spread him down on the footboard of the surrey which Pete Hanson had already gotten ready for the Cartwrights.  He walked to the back of the livery and stared down at Pete who had been knocked out cold minutes earlier.  ***No-one to tell the tale of what happened to Marie’s boy. *** He smiled and stepped up into the surrey and sent the team of horses out of the dark stable and into the street.  His captive, now subdued and incapacitated, everything had gone smoothly, just as planned.

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

Adam and Hoss were annoyed over the fact that Little Joe had yet to arrive and it had been more than thirty minutes since he had left to get the surrey.  They decided that Joe must have gotten long-winded talking to Pete and was taking his sweet time as usual.  A few minutes later they showed up at the darkened livery stable.

“Hey, Joe?  Pete?” Hoss sang out as he entered the stable surprised that there were no lanterns lit.

Adam neared Hoss and touched his arm to signal him to stop.  “Did you hear that?  It’s coming from the back – there’s a lantern right next to the door – bring it here and I’ll light it, Hoss.”

Hoss retrieved the lantern and handed it to his brother and soon they had some light to inspect the area.  The sound of groaning was heard again and the two men hurried to the back of the stable.

“Pete?  Pete – what happened to you?” Hoss asked as he went down onto his knees, noticing the man who was trying to pull himself up off the floor.

“I dunno, Hoss,” Pete muttered and reached his hand to the back of his head.  “I got Joe’s horse fed and watered and had just hitched up your surrey.  I thought I heard someone come in and figured it was one of you boys and then that was it.  Somebody must’ve snuck up on me and then it was lights out!”

Hoss touched the back of the man’s head.  “You got yourself a lump there, Pete.  Hey – did you see Little Joe?”

The wounded man shook his head, “No – not since you boys got into town before the dance.”

Adam cast a fearful look towards his brother.  “Joe was heading here to get the surrey – and we didn’t pass him on the street.”

“Adam,” Hoss began and tried to fight back the ever-increasing feeling of dread.  “Somebody must’ve gotten the drop on Little Joe.  Let’s look around here to make sure he’s not lying hurt somewhere.”

Pete managed to stand up though his balance was off forcing him to lean against one of the support beams of the livery.  “Hey, boys your surrey is gone.  I had it right over there!” He pointed.

Hoss walked across the room and lit another lantern that was sitting on a workbench.  He knelt where Pete had directed and studied the tracks that the surrey had left.  Hoss turned and cast a perplexed glance over at his brother.  “You reckon whoever hit Pete got a hold of Joe and put him in our surrey?”

Adam had walked all around the inside of the stable, finally turning back towards Hoss.  “Well, he’s sure not here.  Pete?  Can we rent a couple of horses from you?”

“Rent Hell, I’ll give them to you!” Pete shouted.  “I’ll get them saddled for the two of you.  Just let me get my bearings.  If someone’s got a hold of Little Joe, you’d better be getting out after them.”

Hoss crossed the room and stood next to his brother.  “You think we’d better go talk to Roy first, Adam?”

Frowning, Adam spun around to face Pete.  “You go saddle us some horses and we’ll go and let Roy know what’s happened.”

“I’ll get right to it,” Pete nodded and then watched the fierce determination on the faces of the Cartwright brothers as they hurried out of the livery stable and headed to the sheriff’s office across the street.

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

Little Joe blinked hard, trying to get his eyes to focus as he slowly returned to consciousness.  He felt the tightness of ropes going across his chest stealing his breath. Joe turned his head from side to side and couldn’t see much but he heard laughter and then spotted the campfire which was right behind the man who was approaching him.

“Who – who are you – and why have you got me tied up?” Joe sang out angrily.

Francois offered his captive a sly smile and laughed over at the boy.  He knelt in front of Joe and stared at his features.

“I am an old friend — yes – an old friend who you have never before met.”

Joe studied the man’s face warily all the while calculating what, if anything, he could do to escape the ropes that held him tightly to the base of a pine tree.

“If I’ve never met you how in the hell can we be friends?  And — my friends have never tied me up to a tree neither.”

Francois ran his fingers through his victim’s curly hair and grinned.  “Much like hers,” He nodded with satisfaction in his gaze.

Little Joe’s skin crawled the moment that the man had touched him.  He knew that he had to find a way to stall for time and hope that his brothers would figure out what had happened at the livery stable and hurry out to search for him.

“Hers? Who are you talking about?”

“A boy with so many questions!” Francois chuckled and then ran the palm of his left-hand down Joe’s right cheek.  “And this face — oh you have a beautiful face — not unlike hers.  It is a shame that she didn’t have a daughter for me!”

Joe flinched and moved his head to the side attempting to get the man’s hand off his cheek.  “Who the heck are you talking about?  Mister you’ve got the wrong man — or you’re plum crazy!”

“Marie’s boy – Joseph – I would have known it was you even if I hadn’t been told who you were when I got to that dance tonight.  I watched you for hours as you danced.  You have your mother’s smooth skin and her hair – though perhaps a bit darker – but her curls indeed.  And, you have her charm – the kind that she had to lure men into her bed.”

Little Joe felt sick to his stomach.  He had heard all the rumors about his mother and had asked his father if any of them were true.  Pa had maintained that Marie’s past wasn’t important and that he had loved her and she had loved him.  Now he was in the presence of yet another man, not unlike Rene Marchant earlier in the year, who had known his mother.  Joe closed his eyes and tried to forget the other man who had attempted to steal him from Pa by saying that he was his real father and not Ben Cartwright.  The truth had come out, and Ben was his father without a doubt but the knowledge of the affair that his mother had right before she had met and married Pa had caused Joe nothing but heartache.

“You grow so quiet, Joseph—are you thinking of her now?”

“Why do you have me tied up like this?”

Francois let loose with a string of maniacal laughter.  He swept his hand across Joe’s face again and watched the boy shirking away from the touch.

“What do you want – why are you doing this?” Joe continued to protest and struggled with his ropes.

“I’ve come to save you.”

“Save me?” Joe asked sarcastically.  “Save me from who – you?”

Francois’ face took on a severe appearance and his dark eyes smoldered.  “The impatience of youth!  I’m going to save you from becoming like your Mama.  I watched you as you went from girl to girl tonight at the dance – just as she went from man to man bedding each one of them.  I was one of those men, Joseph.  She toyed with hearts just as I saw you do tonight.  You are just like her—well – not quite yet.  I watched as you kissed that girl right before she left the room.  You kissed her cheek – perhaps as a hint of things to come?  I will save you before you have the chance to go any further than a kiss.  I must stop you before you become a man and want far more. Yes, I will save you from ending up like Marie!  There will be no going from bed to bed for you!  No, you won’t grow up to be like her!”  Francois stopped speaking long enough to reach inside his right boot.

The thin blade of a knife slithered out of Francois’ boot and the light from the campfire made it glimmer in Joe’s eyes.  As the man held it close to the boy’s face, Joe recoiled in fear.

Closing his eyes, Little Joe’s thoughts swirled in his brain as though they were random flashes of the many perils he had endured in his short life.  He had known danger and he had been held at gunpoint several times in his seventeen years, but he had never seen the blade of a knife so close to his face before.  *** That’s not a pocketknife – that’s not a carving knife or even one of those fancy knives in the display case there at the mercantile.  I’ve never seen anything like this before.  What the hell kind of a knife is that anyway?  That blade is about six inches and looks sharp and thin like the epee Ma left me.  What’s he planning on doing with that thing? *** Joe tried to figure out what his captor had in mind, wondering how he could get away before he had the chance to show him.

“Did you know your Mama, Joseph?”

Refusing to answer, Joe simply turned his head to the side.

Francois grabbed a handful of the boy’s hair and yanked hard, forcing Joe to look up at him.  “You answer me!”

“No – she died when I was little,” Joe replied, biting back his rage.

“I knew her – I knew her as a man knows a woman.  Oh, she was beautiful!  And I lavished her with the best – the best of everything!  Marie loved my gifts and gladly took them from me when I’d bring them over to her.  I gave her gold and silver, anything her heart desired.  I paid for her gowns and her furs, and I took her on trips.  And she repaid me by allowing me into her bed.  We were lovers but it didn’t come without a cost, Joseph.  When I saw her on our last night – I had no jewels to bring her – no money —not a thing to give her other than my desire to share the night with her there in the bed where we had spent so many nights before.  And do you know what she did?”

Joe refused once again to answer the question the evil man before him had posed.

Francois held the knife closer to Joe’s face and asked louder, “Do you know what she did?”

“Wh—what?”

“She denied me – denied me her bed!  And when I insisted that she allow me to stay she took those lovely, manicured fingernails and scratched my face to push me away from her!  She tried to scar me, Joseph.  But, as you can see, the scars went away.”

“I don’t believe a word you’ve said,” Joe muttered angrily totally ignoring the knife which was so close to him now that he could see his hazel eyes reflecting off the blade.

Francois laughed again and then eased back onto the heels of his boots.  “You will know,” He nodded.  “Just as you will know what a scar is.  You see I will leave that for you – as a gift from your mother.  You might not remember her, but you will remember why you will carry the scar for the rest of your life.  It will keep you from a life of whoredom like your mother lived, so consider it a gift from me as well.”

“You are insane!” Joe shouted and hoped that someone would hear it and hurry to his aid.

“No, I am just repaying a debt.  When I think of the many times that I was with Marie – it reminds me that you could have ended up being my bastard of a son if she hadn’t refused me once my wealth had gone.”

“Let me go and I promise I won’t tell anyone about you taking me off and tying me up,” Little Joe tried to bargain with the man though he knew that it was a futile gesture.

Francois laughed again over the way his captive had tried to plead with him.  “Would you like to beg me and perhaps cry?”

Little Joe drew in a deep breath and held it in.  He needed to control his temper, but it was growing harder to do as each minute passed.  “You won’t get that from me.”

Francois smiled and patted Joe’s cheek.  “Oh, you have courage – perhaps you would have served me well as a son.  But your mama prevented that with her rejection of me.”

“My family is on their way and you’re going to get caught and sent to prison no matter what you do to me!” Joe snarled.

Francois pointed towards the surrey on the other side of the campsite; a horse was tied to the back of it.  “I have taken the time to prepare a quick escape on horseback.  Before anyone can find you, I will be gone.  Never fear, Joseph, I will not kill you.  I will save you – save you by giving you that gift from Marie.  As beautiful as she was, I would never have allowed her into my bed if she had the kind of scar that I will leave for you!  Now you will no longer have to worry about which girl to dance with – because none will want you after tonight.”

“My father is going to kill you if you cut me!” Little Joe insisted vehemently.

“Oh yes, Ben Cartwright – the man who spent the most money to buy Marie.  I won’t be seeing him on this trip, Joseph.  And, since he is your father, I won’t touch the side that belongs to him,” Francois held the tip of the stiletto up to the right side of Joe’s face.  “I will save the left side for your father, and the right side is where the gift from your mother will rest.”

Joe felt the sharp dagger- like sensation of the tip of the blade.  He involuntarily sucked in air.

“Jagged or straight?” Francois questioned, smiling sinisterly.

“Please — please don’t!” Joe pleaded with the man now that he was sure that he was going through with his plan to cut him.

“Very well, I will leave you a straight scar – a bit easier to see!” Francois nodded over to his prisoner and with a quick flick of his wrist he stabbed the blade of the stiletto into Joe’s right cheek.

Mercifully Little Joe passed out a few seconds after Francois began to carve up his face.  He never had the chance to witness the look of satisfaction and glee that the evil man wore as he sliced through the boy’s handsome face.  It would be handsome no longer.

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

Ben Cartwright had ridden home from Gold Hill and arrived back at the Ponderosa just after nine o’clock.  He knew that all three of his sons would be at the barn dance in town, so he simply cleaned up and went straight to bed, turning down Hop Sing’s offer of a late supper.  Ben had slept soundly until the sound of loud voices filtered up the staircase.  He donned his robe and slippers and hurried out into the hall.

“What’s going on?” Ben shouted from the top of the stairs.  He noticed Hop Sing standing at the front door with one of the hired hands there next to him.

“Ben!” Fletcher called over to his boss.  “There’s trouble you’d better get dressed and come into town!”

“What is it?”

“Something’s happened to Little Joe – I got word from Clem to come fetch you.  Roy and your other boys are out trying to find the kid now.”

Ben didn’t respond.  He hurried to his bedroom to get dressed.  *** Oh Joseph! *** He thought to himself.

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

Ben Cartwright tied his horse up to the hitching post outside of the Virginia City Jail.  He hurried up the three steps and flung the door open to see the deputy, Clem Foster, sitting behind the desk.

“Have they found Joe?” He called out of breath.

Clem stood and approached the worried father.  “Not yet, Ben, but Roy and your boys are still looking for him.”

“What happened?”

“From what your boys said Joe went to get the surrey right after the dance.  He must’ve gotten taken by surprise just like Pete Hanson.  Pete was hit over the head I guess a little while before Joe got there.  Both Joe and your surrey were missing.”

“Pa!” Hoss called as he came in through the door in a rush.  “We found Little Joe.  He’s over at Doc’s now – you’d better come quick like!”

Ben shared an apprehensive glance over at Clem and ran out of the jailhouse.

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

Leaving Buck tied up in front of the jail, both Ben and Hoss jogged the block and a half down to the doctor’s office.  Adam was waiting and threw open the door.

“Glad you got here, Pa,” Adam nodded over to his father.

“How’s the boy?” Ben asked and then noticed the cautious glances which went back and forth between his two sons.

“Doc’s working on him,” Adam replied glumly.

“Ben – sorry about Little Joe,” Roy stepped forward after watching his old friend dealing with his worry over his youngest.

“Anyone know what happened, Roy?”

The sheriff sighed and shook his head.  “Little Joe couldn’t say when we found him.  Someone must’ve put him in your surrey and took him about five miles out of town and tied him to a tree.”

“What did they do to him?”

Roy exchanged apprehensive glances with Hoss and Adam, no one wanting to tell Ben what kind of injury Joe had sustained.  “He’s been hurt— Doc says it’s nothing fatal, Ben.  But – well – Doc wants to talk to you when he’s done patching the kid up.  I’m going to get back to my office and do some investigating to try and figure out who got a hold of Little Joe.”  Roy patted his old friend on the back sympathetically and turned to leave.

“One of you tell me what’s happened to Joseph!” Ben insisted staring over at Adam and Hoss.

“Pa – it’s like Roy said – it’s not fatal but Doc’s the one who needs to explain what’s wrong with the kid.  He should be out soon,” Adam attempted to ease his father’s mind.

“You boys found him – you should know what happened!” Ben protested.

“Pa–,” Hoss began in a gentle calming tone, “Let’s sit down.”

Ben drew in a deep breath as he looked towards the closed door to the examination room.  Reluctantly he sat on the sofa next to his sons and nervously waited.  He could tell that everyone was keeping something from him about Little Joe and Ben knew that was a sign that the boy had been badly hurt.

**********

Nervously pacing back and forth in the waiting room for over an hour, Ben would, every now and then, cast a glance at his two sons wondering what they were trying their darndest to keep from him.  Finally, the door to the examination room opened and a very tired-looking Doctor Paul Martin appeared.

“Paul – Paul, how’s the boy?”

“Ben – let’s both sit down a minute, shall we?” Paul offered his friend a reassuring smile and pointed over to the two chairs opposite where Hoss and Adam sat.

“What is it?” Ben asked, his voice shaking.  He read the other man’s face and could tell that he was trying to figure out a way to spring some terrible news on him.

“Well, Ben – first of all – Little Joe’s not in any danger right now – he will be okay,” Doc began, carefully choosing his words.

Ben studied the other man’s face and knew that there was a lot that he wasn’t saying.  “Go ahead, Paul – what is it?”

Doc looked across the room at the faces of Joe’s two brothers.  He knew that they were aware of the situation and had, at Paul’s earlier request, kept the information from their father.

“He was knocked out when the man who took him put him into your surrey.  Joe has a mild concussion but it’s not too serious.”

“Paul, what are you holding back from me – go on tell me!”

Doc frowned as he reached over and placed a hand onto Ben’s arm.  “Whoever took the boy – well – they cut him.”

“Cut him?  How bad?”

“Bad,” Paul nodded, a grim expression on his face.

Ben drew in a deep breath and held it in for a minute, he was afraid to hear the rest.

“Ben, it’s Joe’s face – the man cut his face.”

Ben shot a glance over to Hoss and Adam and watched as both men dropped their heads down, avoiding his questioning eyes.  He knew that it had to be bad and that they had been the first to see the results of Joseph’s injury.

Shakily pulling himself to standing, Ben called down to the doctor, “I want to see the boy.”

Doc stood and patted his friend’s back trying to offer what comfort he could.  “Ben — I’ve got Little Joe heavily sedated.  I’ll take you back there, but I think it’d be a good thing if you had your boys go and get a hotel suite.  Joe would be more comfortable there and I don’t want him to travel back to the Ponderosa for at least a day or two.”

Ben turned as his sons stood and approached him.

“Adam and me will go get the rooms, Pa.  Then we’ll come back,” Hoss nodded over to his father.

“Thank you, Boys,” Ben sighed and walked inside the examination room alongside Paul.

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

The shock of brown hair stood out in stark contrast to the pale skin of Little Joe’s bandaged face.  Ben drew closer to his youngest son and fought his fear.  The last time he had talked to the boy was almost four days ago now and he had hollered at him to get a haircut.  Now here Joe was laid out on top of an examination table with the same long hair.  Ben realized what a petty thing it had been for him to get upset about.  *** Oh, Joseph!  What if I had lost you and our last conversation was me yelling at you?  Thank God you’re alive. *** He thought as he swept his hand across the boy’s forehead pushing the curls aside.

“That bandage is big, Paul — how bad — how many stitches did it take?” Ben questioned, fearing the worst, as he pulled the chair closer to his son and sat down.

Paul came to rest opposite the other man and replied, “I had to put in quite a few.”

“I need to see.”

Drawing in a deep apprehensive breath, Doc wondered how the anxious father would be able to cope with the sight of the wound on his son’s face.

“Paul — let me see it,” Ben reiterated.

Doc nodded and gently tugged the bottom of the cotton bandage free.  He lifted it just high enough for his friend to get a quick glance at the wound.

Ben gasped and then felt as though something deep inside of him had died the instant he saw the hideous gaping wound which was held together by too many sutures to count.  *** Closing his eyes, Ben remembered what Marie had said the very first time she had held Joseph. Doctor Paul Martin had been there to deliver the baby that late October night.   He swaddled him and placed Little Joe into the new mother’s arms. She bent forward and kissed both of Joseph’s cheeks and then smiled joyously up at her husband.  “Darling, our boy is just beautiful – simply beautiful!  Our Joseph has a face only the angels could have crafted! *** “Dear Lord,” Ben whispered, his eyes brimming with tears.  *** Oh, Marie – our boy –– our poor boy! ***

“I’m so sorry, Ben,” Doc tried to console the man with his words and with a hand placed on his arm.   “I tried my best to make the sutures as small as I could – but – well — the wound was so deep that it was impossible to do that.  Whoever the maniac was who did this cut all the way through to the inside of Joe’s mouth.  He’s still bleeding but there’s not a thing I can do about that.  Usually cuts in the mouth heal fast – but they’re painful.  I gave him a very strong sedative and for the next day or two we’re going to need to keep him quiet.  I’ll bring some laudanum to the hotel for you to give the boy.”

Ben dropped his head down into his hands as tears fell from his eyes.  “What’s this going to do to Joseph, Paul?  How – how will he be able to handle what’s been done to him?  How will the boy see himself now – looking like this – with that wound – and those sutures and the scar that will be left on his face?”

“Little Joe’s got you, Ben – that’s how he’ll handle it.  You’ve always been the only one who could get through to him.  But first you need some time to adjust to the sight of his wound.  I know how hard it is for you to see your youngest cut up like this.”

“Who would do this?  Who would do this to my boy — or to any boy? And why? For God’s sake — he’s only seventeen!”

“I don’t know, Ben— I just don’t know,” Paul whispered.  There wasn’t an answer to the question that he had posed, at least not any that made sense.  Why would anyone want to scar Joe Cartwright’s face?  It was beyond all comprehension.

“Will it – will it get better – I mean – it’s so long — from his cheek to his jaw -,” Ben trailed off.

Paul sighed and shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.  “The wound will heal in time, Ben, but I don’t see any way that Joe’s not going to carry a scar.”

Wiping his eyes on his shirtsleeves, Ben sucked in air, lifted his head and squared his shoulders.  He had to be strong; Joseph would need that from him no matter how he was feeling inside.

“The boys ought to have that hotel room ready, is it okay to move Joseph, Paul?”

“Sure,” Doc nodded and offered his friend a patient smile.  “I could go and get my buggy?”

Ben shook his head and stood from the chair.  “No, Paul, the hotel is less than a half a block from here— I’ll carry him.  He won’t wake up, will he?”

Paul shook his head, “Not with what I gave him he won’t.  I’ll bring some medicine and bandages over to the hotel after we get Little Joe settled.”

“Thank you, Paul,” Ben sent a weak smile aimed towards the doctor who had brought his son back from death’s doorstep so many times in the past.  “I appreciate what you tried to do – and –,”

Paul patted the man on the back and replied, “It’s okay – I know, Ben.”

Ben gingerly drew his son up into his arms.  He waited while Doc placed the blanket over the boy to keep him warm, as apparently the only clothes which had survived the brutal assault intact were Joe’s pants and socks.  “Your Pa has you now, Joseph.” Ben whispered as the two men made their way out of the office and down the street where they met up with Adam and Hoss.

“Here, Pa, I’ll take him!” Hoss insisted, reaching his arms out.

“No – I’ve got him, Hoss,” Ben declined the offer shaking his head.  He needed to keep Joseph close now, trying to protect him from the rest of the world and the cruelty he had so often experienced in it.

“The room’s ready, Pa.  I got a suite so we could all stay in town – there’s two double beds in each room because we knew you’d want to stay close to Little Joe.”

“Thank you, Adam,” Ben nodded as he cleared the door to the hotel.

The desk manager, Bill Gentry, rushed to Ben’s side and called over to him.

“Anything you need, Ben – anything at all!” He offered.

“Thank you, Bill,” He returned and then began climbing the stairs as Hoss led the way.

***********

Doctor Martin hurriedly walked back to his office and gathered up the medicine and bandages that Ben would need to tend the injured boy.  Meanwhile all the Cartwrights attempted to make Little Joe as comfortable as possible.  Hoss had been dispatched to the mercantile to get his brother a nightshirt and Adam stood next to his father and waited.

“Here, Joseph,” Ben whispered and gently placed an extra pillow underneath the boy’s head.  Paul had informed him that keeping Joe’s head elevated might help take the pressure off his wound and hopefully lessen the bleeding inside his mouth.

“Okay, Adam,” Ben sighed as he sat down next to the bed and placed a hand onto Joe’s right forearm.  “Where are your brother’s clothes?”

“Pa – well — when we found him –” Adam tried to figure out how best to tell his father the shocking condition that Joe was in when they got to him.  “Joe’s shirt and jacket were covered in blood, Pa,” He whispered.

“Did you boys see anything that might help us find out who did this to the boy?”

Adam shook his head wearily and answered, “Once it got daylight Hoss was able to spot the tracks of our surrey.  We followed it just past the Carson cut off and it was sitting just off the road.  About thirty feet away we spotted Joe tied up against a tree slumped over.  Hoss said there were fresh prints — it looked like one man walking around the campfire and then those same boot prints were easy to spot leading up to where a horse must’ve been tied to the surrey.  Whoever did this must’ve gotten a horse and maybe pulled it behind the surrey so he could escape fast after he hurt the kid.”

“Was Joe conscious when you got to him?”

Adam frowned and returned, “He said our names – Hoss and mine—and then just as soon as the ropes were untied, he fell over and never came back around, Pa.  We got him to Doc’s, and Paul got Joe’s clothes off – they’re somewhere in his office.  I don’t think they’re salvageable – there was –,” Adam stopped again.  He didn’t want to describe the volume of blood that he saw all over Joe’s white dress shirt and jacket.

Ben turned when he heard a very soft moan escape Joe’s lips.  He hurried to sit next to him up on the bed hoping that he could ease him back to consciousness gently.

“Ben,” Paul called as he came into the room with medical supplies in his hands.  “Don’t let Joe talk – try to let him know he’s got to settle back.”

“Joseph?  Joseph, if you can hear me – well – I just want you to ease those eyes open but don’t try to talk, Boy,” Ben cooed to his son.

Joe’s eyelids fluttered open and it took a few minutes before he noticed his father sitting there next to him holding his hand in his.

“Pah –,” Joe mouthed the word, but nothing came out.  He scrunched up his face in pain.

“No talking just yet, Son – you just lie still.”

“Pah?” he mouthed the word again and noticed all three men looking down at him.

“Joe, it’s time to give you something to help ease that pain,” Doc announced and drew closer to the bed.  He reached for the tablespoon he had placed on the nightstand next to the bed.  Slowly he poured the laudanum onto the spoon and then brought it to Joe’s mouth.

Joe shook his head and tried to frown but the pain from his wound was too great.

“Joseph – you need to let Doc give you the medicine to help ease that pain.”

Joe’s right hand broke away from Pa’s grip and pointed over to the nightstand.

“What is it, Joseph?”

Joe again pointed and both Ben and Doc tried to figure out what the boy wanted.

“You want the towel?” Ben finally asked as he lifted it up for Joe to see.

Joe nodded and Pa handed it to him.  The three men watched as Joe took the end of the towel and with a great effort parted his lips.  He eased one of the corners of the towel inside his mouth and then pulled it out slowly.  The towel had soaked up a good amount of blood from the open gash in the inside of his cheek.

Ben looked over at Doc and his face paled when he saw the amount of blood which had come out.

“Joe – it’s okay – that’s going to bleed for a bit and then it’ll stop.  I told your father that cuts in the mouth heal faster than just about anywhere else on the body,” Paul explained.

Joe placed another corner of the towel inside his mouth and again drew out more blood.

Paul opened his black medical bag and pulled out a few glass straws.  He filled a water glass and set one inside of it.  “Here, Little Joe, try to take a short pull of this water— it’ll help with that blood.”

Joe accepted the glass but just the motion of trying to suck the water up into the straw caused such intense pain that he sent out a low guttural groan.

Paul could see the discomfort all over the boy’s face.  He eased the spoon back towards Joe and said, “I’m just going to drizzle this inside your mouth a little at a time.  You don’t have to open much – just enough for me to get to your tongue, Joe.”

Little Joe obliged, doing what Doc had said since his wound was hurting so terribly.  Drop by drop Paul was able to get the laudanum through his patient’s slightly parted lips.

“There now,” Paul smiled and patted Joe’s arm.  “That should help with the pain and also help you to sleep.”

“I got the nightshirt, Pa,” Hoss announced as he came into the room and stared down at his little brother.  “Short Shanks, I brung you something that will feel a whole lot better than staying in those trousers while you sleep.”

Joe couldn’t smile at his brother because his face hurt like the blue blazes.  It almost took his breath away just to open his mouth wide enough to take in the medicine Doc had offered.

“I can help with that.  Joseph, you just lie still, okay?” Ben said and he and Paul got the boy out of his pants and into the nightshirt.  It hadn’t been easy when they tried to carefully get it over Joe’s head.  They paid extra attention to the large bandage that he sported on his right cheek.  By the time they had Joe’s head back down on the pillow he was sound asleep.

“It’s for the best, Ben.  Joe is in a lot of pain.  Now, there’s three of you to watch over this boy, so nobody is to overdo it.  I’ll be back around dinner time to see how he’s doing. One of you come and get me if you need me before then,” Paul announced and grabbed his medical bag.

“Thank you, Paul,” Ben reached over and shook the man’s hand.

Doc smiled and nodded.  “See you a bit later.  If he needs another dose – well, just give it to him but no sooner than every four hours.”

“We’ll keep up with the medicine, Doc,” Adam nodded over to the man as he walked out of the bedroom.

“Well, we might as well settle in, Boys,” Ben sighed as he retook his seat next to the bed.

***********

Staring down at his pocket watch, Ben held it under the lamp next to Joe’s bed to get a better view of the time; it was midnight. He shook his head and reached up to check his son’s forehead for any sign of fever.  *** So far so good, at least we’re not contending with a fever on top of everything else! *** He thought to himself and stretched.  It had been an insufferable day, and Ben knew that they all had many more just like that ahead for them.  Paul had come over to the hotel twice to check on his patient and change Joe’s bandages before calling it a night around ten o’clock.  Pa had urged his two older boys to go and have a decent meal down in the dining room and the hotel manager sent up a tray of food for him, knowing that the worried father wasn’t about to leave his son’s side.  Now it was midnight and all was quiet; far too quiet as far as he was concerned.  Joe had come around twice since being brought into the hotel room and both times he had urgently pointed at his father to give him the hand towel in order to remove the blood which was still pooling inside of his mouth.  It all had just been too much.  Roy Coffee was still out and about running down leads which had thus far proven fruitless.  But Ben was sure that the sheriff would try his best to find the evil perpetrator who had scarred Joe.

Hoss and Adam had retired to the other guest room as their father had asked and Ben reassured them that he’d come and get them when he grew too tired to keep an eye on their little brother.  Ben leaned back in the chair and let his eyes rest for a little while.

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

With a slight, barely imperceptible motion, Joe’s head moved on his pillow.  Gradually the sound of the movement increased until it awakened his father.  Pa blinked a few times, attempting to clear his sleep deprived eyes.

“Joseph?” He whispered as his hand returned to where it had been earlier on the boy’s right forearm.

*** By the time I’m done with you no lady – not even a high-class prostitute like your mama will allow you into her bed! *** Joe struggled to free his chin from Francois’ tight grasp.  *** As beautiful as Marie was – I wouldn’t have wanted her in my bed if she had her face carved like I will carve yours. ***

“No – please no!” Joe’s words grew louder as Pa jumped to his feet and held onto the boy’s shoulders to prevent their movement.

“Come on, Son, take it easy.  You’re just having a dream –everything is okay.”

*** Go ahead and try to squirm — it will sink my blade deeper! *** Francois urged and then erupted in an odd high pierced laughter.

“No!  I don’t even know you – don’t!”

*** Of course, you don’t know me – but if my money had held out, you would have probably ended up being my bastard of a son! ***

“Stop!” Joe shrieked.  He sprang up in the bed shocking his father with his sudden strength.

“Joseph – easy boy – easy,” Pa tried his best to keep a hold of the boy’s arms.

“Pa?” Joe whispered, confused by the expression on his father’s face along with his surroundings.

Before Ben could reply, Joe’s right hand broke loose from Pa’s grip and shot up to his bandaged face.

“He – he did it,” Joe whimpered feeling first the bandage and then the pain shooting through it.  The laudanum had worn off.  “Oh, Pa – it really happened!” Joe cried as his father gently eased him forward.  Sitting on the bed next to his son, Pa wrapped his arms around the boy’s shivering shoulders, carefully embracing Joseph.

Bereft and exhausted, the boy rested the left side of his face on his father’s right shoulder.

“He cut me,” Joe choked out, his voice sounding distorted due to the swelling on both the inside and outside of his face.  “He cut me,” Joe repeated more to himself than to his father.

“Easy, now Joseph, easy,” Ben whispered, trying once again to gain control of the boy’s fears so he wouldn’t harm himself any worse than he already was.

“I – I didn’t do — anything to him – she did – why did he do this?”  Joe begged for an answer, his words coming out thick and hard to understand.

Ben combed his fingers through his son’s hair, hoping to lull him back to sleep.  “Joseph – remember I told you that Doc said you’re not to move around or try to talk right now.  Let me give you something for pain – it’ll help.”

“I – I just want — to know why – just why.”

Ben sighed deeply and continued to brush his fingers through Joe’s curls.  “Not right now – we’ll get all the answers we need – but they’ll keep for tonight, Son.”

“Oh, Pa!” Joe gasped as he felt the right side of his face drawing up as though someone was squeezing it tightly.  “Hurts, Pa – hurts.”

Ben settled the boy back against the mound of pillows and nodded down to him.  “Let’s take care of that right now.”  He reached for the bottle of laudanum and the tablespoon.  Tilting the medicine bottle Ben filled the spoon, then turned towards the injured boy.

“You’ve got to let me drizzle this inside your mouth, Joseph.  Doc doesn’t want you opening too wide just yet – and you’ve got to try not to talk.”

Joe obeyed and parted his lips slightly to allow Pa to drip the pain killer onto his tongue.  He swallowed until drop by drop he had gotten the full dose inside of him.

“Good, Joseph – real good,” Ben smiled and nodded as he set the spoon once again onto the nightstand.  “Now, Young Man, how about you try closing those eyes for a bit? When you wake up, we’re going to get you some ice – it’ll help with the swelling Doc said and it’ll make you feel better.”

Joe closed his eyes and responded quietly, “Don’t let him — come back, Pa.”

“He’s never going to hurt you again, Boy.  That’s a promise,” Pa returned and then noticed that his son had fallen back to sleep just that fast.

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

Ben had fallen to sleep there in the side chair a little while after his son had taken his medicine.  His dreams were full of the horrors of seeing his youngest son’s face that first time in Doc’s office.  Ben attempted to climb out from under the blanket of sleep to free himself from what he was witnessing repeatedly as if the horrible day was in a loop.

Joe’s voice awakened his father, just as he had done a few minutes before midnight.  Ben stared at his watch; it was four in the morning.

*** Quite the lady’s man.  I saw you dancing with three different girls.  You are following the same path that your mother took — playing the same part – always leaving them wanting more!  But I’ll stop it before it starts – before you have the chance to go any farther than a kiss.  No, you won’t end up like Marie – going from bed to bed one lover after the other and all wanting more.  Now the best way to stop history from repeating itself is this! *** Francois drew out his stiletto and slashed at Joe’s face, laying it wide open and all the while laughing.

“Pa!  Pa – that man—he – he – oh, Pa!” Joe struggled to speak, his words choking in his throat.  He could still feel the blood which continued to pool inside his mouth.  Joe thought it was odd how it tasted both sweet and metallic.  It made him want to gag.

“Rest easy, Joseph — it’s going to be alright – your Pa’s got you now,” Ben cooed softly trying again to get the boy to settle down.

Joe’s right hand came up from where it rested alongside his body.  “Oh, Pa,” Joe attempted once more to convey how he was feeling as his fingers touched at the heavy bandage Doc had secured over the numerous sutures.

Ben grabbed his son’s hand and held onto it firmly.  “No, Son – don’t touch at that – ease up,” He whispered.  Pa’s thumb slowly rubbed circles in the palm of Joe’s right hand, trying once again to lull the boy to sleep with the movement.  “Doc said no talking right now.  You’ve gone through enough.  I just need you to close your eyes, Joseph.”

“Pa, he cut me – cut me good.  I – I passed out – the pain,” Joe’s voice was thick and growing harder to understand.

“We’re getting ice from the blockhouse in the morning – Joseph – it’s going to help with the swelling.  But you’ve got quite a few stitches – you need to settle down.”

Joe’s hand broke free of his father’s grasp and touched at the thick wad of bandages.  “Pa – my face –,” Joe stopped speaking as tears filled his eyes.

“Everything is going to be fine, Joseph – now close those eyes for just a little while for me,” Ben coaxed the boy.  He knew that nothing was fine and tried to keep from showing it in the reflection of his gaze now.  His stomach was tied in knots just thinking about the huge gash caused by the knife which had been wielded by the maniac who’d gone after his boy.

Joe fought not to think about what he looked like now but his face involuntarily quivered with fear anyway.  Ben slowly pushed back the hair from his son’s forehead and reached for the pain medicine.  Patiently Pa instructed Joe on how to open his mouth just a tad so he could drizzle the medicine onto his tongue so it would be easier for him to swallow it.  His son hadn’t put up any fuss about it and that let Ben know that Joseph had to be hurting a lot at the time.  Pa set the spoon back on the nightstand and prayed that the laudanum would quickly take hold so his boy wouldn’t be in any pain.  After a few minutes Ben noticed that Joe’s face had gone lax, he was asleep again.  *** Thank God. *** He thought as he shook his head sadly.
“Oh, Joseph,” Ben whispered as he leaned forward in the chair.  His lips pressed down softly on his son’s brow as he sent off yet another prayer.  *** Dear Lord – please don’t let this scar – please – my boy has been through enough in his short life. *** Gently lifting one corner of the bandage Pa hesitantly took another look at the wound.  The sutures were from the side of Joe’s jaw upwards to his right cheek bone.  Dropping his head down into his hands, Pa wept over the painful reality that Joseph, the boy who had been born with such a strikingly handsome face, would never be the same again.

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

“Come on in, Hop Sing,” Hoss whispered and led the man inside to where Joe lay sound asleep.

Adam stood from the chair where he had kept watch over Joe and approached the cook.

“What do you have there, Hop Sing?” he asked looking down at the basket the cook carried.

The Chinese man who had helped Ben Cartwright raise all three of his sons apprehensively approached the bedside of the youngest member of the family.  He set the basket on the nightstand and turned back towards both Adam and Hoss.

“Mister Fletcher tell Hop Sing what happen to Little Joe – I fix chicken broth and bring here.  Hop Sing vely worried,” He replied settling a hand onto Joe’s forehead.  “Where Mister Ben?”

“We made Pa go lay down in the other room,” Hoss whispered as he drew closer to the bed.  “Doc warned Pa that if he didn’t go down, he was going to give him a shot to knock him out.”

“Vely good,” Hop Sing smiled.  “Now – Hop Sing see Little Joe’s wound?”

Adam cleared his throat and tried to figure out what he could say to make Hop Sing understand the seriousness of Joe’s injury without letting him peek underneath the wad of bandages.  “Not right now, Hop Sing.  Doc sent someone from the front desk to fetch some ice from the blockhouse – but until he gets back with it, he told us to keep Joe’s wound covered.”

Hop Sing’s ebony eyes looked piercingly at the eldest son.  “Must know how bad!”

Hoss walked closer to the cook and dropped a hand down onto his shoulder.  “It’s pretty bad, Hop Sing.”

Hop Sing placed the palm of his right hand against Joe’s left cheek and muttered a few words in Chinese that no-one in the room could decipher.

“You have Little Joe drink chicken broth!”

“We will,” Adam assured the cook.  “Doc says we can bring Joe home in the morning.  Why don’t you go back to the ranch and get some rest.  I know you’ll be fussing over Joe once he’s back in his own bed.”

Hop Sing nodded and then stared over at Hoss.  “You eat, Mister Hoss?”

Hoss grinned and replied, “Yeah, I been eating downstairs here – mind you it sure ain’t nowhere near as good as your grub, but I been eating.”

“Vely good.  Mister Adam?”

Smiling, Adam also nodded.  “We’re eating – don’t worry.”

“Alight – Hop Sing go back home and get food cooking for return.  You tell Little Joe Hop Sing came?”

“We’ll tell him,” Hoss agreed and walked the cook and caregiver out of the room.  Opening the door to the suite Hop Sing turned back and looked up at the big man standing next to him.  “Little Joe –he be okay?”

Drawing in a deep breath Hoss didn’t know how to tell the man who had raised Joe from an infant that the boy was going to carry a huge scar on his face for the rest of his life.  “We hope so, Hop Sing.  Now you just get yourself home safely and we’ll all be eating your good cooking by tomorrow afternoon.”

Hop Sing read the look in Hoss’ blue eyes and knew that Little Joe had to be in bad shape.  He had always been able to read Hoss very well, and behind the attempt to reassure him, Hop Sing could tell the sadness that the man was carrying inside.  “Hop Sing see tomorrow,” he said and turned out of the suite.

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

“H –Hoss?” The weak voice called out.

Hoss leaned in towards his brother and dropped one huge hand onto the boy’s arm.  “Yeah, Little Brother, right here.”

Joe glanced around the room and tried to get his bearings.  He closed his eyes as a sharp pain shot upwards from the right side of his jaw.  It proceeded to climb until it grew so intense that he winced his face which only made his wound hurt and the sutures pull that much more.

“It’s almost time for some more pain medicine, Joe.”

Joe rolled his head on the pillow as Adam walked inside.

“You’re finally awake,” Adam grinned and set his hand on Joe’s other arm so that he was protected and comforted by both of his brothers on either side.

Joe nodded and then whispered, “Pa?”

“He’ll be in here in just a little while, Joe.  Pa stayed up all night in the chair next to your bed – Doc forced him to go lie down awhile,” Adam explained.

“Sorry – sorry about — surrey –,” Joe muttered and with each word the pain inside his mouth grew worse.

“Hey, Kid – when do you ever show up anywhere on time?” Adam joked as he and Hoss exchanged uncomfortable glances.

When the room grew deathly quiet, Hoss tried to think of something to say to break the tension.  “You think that you can try to drink, Little Joe?  Hop Sing brung you some chicken broth all the way from the ranch.  He told us to be sure to tell you that he came by and that he’s thinking about you.”

“Water,” Joe whispered, still hurting with every movement he made with his mouth.

Hoss hurriedly poured a glass of water and then stared down at his brother.   “You want to use the straw, Joe?”

Slightly shaking his head back and forth to signify “no” Joe watched as Hoss handed him the glass without a straw this time.  With a lot of effort, he lifted his head off the pillow and attempted to sip the water slowly.  Little Joe soon realized that the mere act of drinking had hurt even worse than trying to speak had.  An involuntary groan escaped his lips.

“You’re doing good, Kid,” Adam tried to sound encouraging.

After getting down a couple of sips Joe returned the glass to Hoss’ hand and eased his head back onto the pillow.

“I was just telling Little Joe that it’s almost time for his next dose of pain medicine,” Hoss remarked to Adam.

“No – don’t wanna,” Joe returned insistently.

Before Hoss could protest or try to cajole his brother into having something to ease his pain, they heard a knock at the door and turned to see Doctor Martin standing in the doorway with his black medical bag in one hand and a bucket of ice in the other.

“Bill sent this up,” Doc smiled and handed the ice bucket to Adam as he drew closer to his patient.  “Now, Little Joe, what did I hear you just say about not taking that medicine I left for you?”

“Don’t wanna,” Joe repeated, his speech getting harder to understand.

Paul sighed and sat in the chair which Hoss had vacated.  “Well, this ice will help you a bit – but you’re still going to need that laudanum for a while yet.  Adam, hand me that unused washcloth over next to the basin, will you?”

Adam did as he had been asked and both he and Hoss neared the bed to see if they could help the doctor tend their brother.

Paul wrapped some of the pre-chipped ice inside the washcloth and folded it neatly.  “Now, let me just remove that bandage – here, Hoss, hold this a minute,” Doc said and handed the prepared washcloth over to him.

“Sure, Doc.”

The second Doc reached for one of the corners of the bandage Joe’s hand shot up blocking the man’s attempt at uncovering the wound.

“No,” Joe whispered, keeping his hand firmly on top of the bandage.

Adam and Hoss turned towards the doorway when they heard someone clearing their throat.  It was Pa and, evidently, he had been both listening and watching the goings on inside the room without making his presence known.

“Now, just what’s going on in here?” Ben questioned sternly as he crossed the room.

“Oh, just your youngest – and as is typical he’s trying to make my life difficult,” Paul replied smiling as Ben approached him.

Easing down on the right side of the bed next to Joe, Ben placed a firm hand on his arm.  “Now, Joseph, it looks to me like Paul has had a long day – how about you giving him a break and cooperating for a change?  He’s got that ice I’ve been telling you about – it’ll help ease some of your pain and cut down on that swelling.”

“Can’t,” Joe whispered and closed his eyes.

“Can’t?” Ben asked and cast a confused glance around the room, hoping one of the other three would figure out what was going on with the boy.  “Why?”

Hoss had read what his little brother was thinking, they were always so close that it wasn’t very hard to see what had been in the boy’s eyes.

“Little Joe – me and Adam wuz the ones who found you.  Shucks we’ve already seen that cut of yours and it’s okay – you’ve gotten hurt a lot worse, you know?  Why — don’t you remember that time you fell off that wild stallion we caught — the one that Pa told you to leave alone?  Yeah, just as soon as you fell you knew you were in big trouble — then you came running to me to set that break in your arm so Pa wouldn’t get after you for disobeying him.  That old bone you busted was a sight I’ll tell you!  So, I’ve seen a lot worse,” Hoss attempted to put Little Joe’s mind at ease since he knew that the boy was worried about anyone getting a good look at his wound.

Joe opened his eyes as tears involuntarily slid out from their corners.  Ben had seen it and he knew that the boy had realized the size of the cut now and what it must look like.  Joseph had wanted to protect himself from witnessing the look of horror in the eyes of his family and Doc as well.

“Boys— it’s almost five – you two let me sleep far too long,” Ben began and shot them a warning gaze which let them in on the fact that he needed some privacy with their little brother.  “How about the two of you going downstairs to find me a newspaper – I’ve been out of touch for two days –ever since my business up at Gold Hill?”

Adam read his father’s intentions there in his eyes as did Hoss.  He nodded over to him and replied, “Sure, Pa – we’ll go get you one – and Hoss owes me a beer so maybe it’s a good day to make him pay up?”

“We’ll be back in just a little bit, Joe,” Hoss announced, handing the washcloth back to Doc.  He smiled and patted his brother’s shoulder.  Both men left the bedroom closing the door behind them.

“Okay?” Ben asked, raising his eyebrows as he looked at Joe.

Drawing in a deep breath, though still worrying about what his face looked like, Joe nodded his head and allowed Paul to remove the bandage.

“It’s about time, Little Joe,” Doc scolded, but there was a twinkle in his eye that let the boy know he wasn’t angry.  “My hand’s about got frostbite from holding this washcloth so long.  Now let’s just set it gently over your sutures for a bit and see how it does.”

Ben attempted to break the uneasy silence that had fallen over the room.  “You see, Paul, I did like you asked me and got a good five hours of sleep.”

Doc knew what his friend was doing so he played right along.  “Oh sure, Ben Cartwright!  But it took me threatening you to get you to do it!  You shouldn’t complain so much about this boy and his stubbornness – he’s just like his pa!”

“Bad,” Joe whispered.

Ben and Paul exchanged concerned glances wondering what Joe had meant.

“Bad?  Is the ice making it worse, Son?”

Joe shook his head, “Face – it’s bad.”

Doc turned the washcloth over and reapplied it over the wound trying to come up with a good answer to what his patient had said.  “It’s a bad cut – no way to deny that, Joe.  But we all know how fast you heal, right?”

Joe didn’t answer but Pa noticed the quiver on his lips as his son fought not to break down and cry.  He squeezed the boy’s hand, willing strength into him.

“You’ve gone through a tough time, Joseph—it’s only natural for you to think the worst right now.  You just give it some time.”

Joe tried to wipe away a few spent tears on the sleeve of his nightshirt.  “He said – he said it was a gift —,” Joe trailed off and watched as his father and the doctor exchanged surprised glances.

Paul removed the washcloth so he could replace the ice with some fresh chips and waited to see what Ben would tell his boy.

“A gift?” Pa asked quietly.

Joe nodded and replied, “Gift from my mother — a gift — to carry for — rest of my life.”

“What does your Ma have to do with this, Son?  Do you know who hurt you?”

“He – he had — accent – French,” Joe stuttered and winced due to the pain it was causing him to speak.  “No – no – name – don’t know – but was someone who was — with her – like Marchant — Pa.”

Ben’s face paled with his son’s revelation.  “He said that he knew her?”

Joe nodded, “Yeah.”

Paul cleared his throat and gave Ben a wary glance.  “Listen you two, Joe isn’t supposed to do any talking.  There will be a time for all this later – but I need to get this youngster doctored and get some pain medicine into him before I make the rest of my rounds here in town.  Now let’s put this ice back on for just a few minutes, okay?”

Ben nodded over to Paul, understanding that they didn’t need to get Joe more worked up than he already was at the time.

“He’s right, Joseph.  This can keep.  You just ease back and let Paul tend to you.”

“Her fault,” Joe whispered and closed his eyes.  “All — all her fault.”  Before Ben or Doc could say another word, Joe had drifted back to sleep.

“It’s for the best, Ben – the boy was too worked up,” Paul whispered as he finished icing the wound.  “I don’t want Little Joe talking too much for a while yet.”

Ben sighed and answered, “He’s so upset – and he must’ve awakened three- or four-times last night with some awful nightmares.”

“I imagine he would have, Ben – what with all that lunatic did to the boy – and on top of that whatever he said about Marie.  I’m worried about how Joe’s going to react once he gets home and gets a look at his wound.”

“I am too, Paul.  You saw how he acted when he thought that Adam and Hoss were going to see it.  They were the ones who found him – so they know how bad it is — and they told Joe that.  But he doesn’t want anyone to see it.  He only lets the two of us see it because we’re the ones tending his wound.”

Doc stood and gathered up the bandage material he had set on the nightstand.  He reached for a fresh towel and gingerly dabbed at the cut to dry it off.  Next, he had Ben help him with the wad of cotton that he layered over Joe’s wound securing it in place.

“That will do until later, Ben.  I want you to ice it good one more time tonight, okay?”

Ben nodded and began to help the doctor gather up the spent bandage and everything they had used to try and help Joe.  “Is it okay to bring Joseph home tomorrow?”

“Yes – let me have a look at his wound before you go and I’ll give you more instructions then.  You’ll need to get some food into him – but only liquids,” Paul stopped and pointed over at the jar Hop Sing had left.  “Why don’t you have the boys take that down to the kitchen here and see if they’ll keep that warm for the kid?  I’m sure Hop Sing prepared it without any salt – he always seems to know what’s needed depending on the injury.  I want Joe to get something besides water and medicine in him tonight.”

“Good idea,” Ben nodded as he walked Doc out.

Pausing before leaving the suite, Paul turned and looked at his friend.  “Just take this one day at a time, Ben – I know you’re thinking ahead – but we need to take this slow for Joe’s sake.  None of us know what that wound is going to look like once I get those stitches out next week – or how it will look a few months down the road.  Try not to worry, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.  Thanks again, Paul.”

“I’ll see you in the morning — keep up with the pain medicine once the boy wakes up.”

Ben nodded and watched as Paul walked out into the hall.  Sighing to himself he made his way back into his son’s room.

***********

“No!” Joe argued as loudly as he could with the swelling getting worse inside his mouth.

“Little Brother, I thought you’d be happy to be going home?  I told you that I brung the buckboard back with me tonight when Adam and me went to the ranch to get a change of clothes for all of us.  I’ll drive you myself in the morning.”

“What’s the problem?” Ben asked.  He came into the room with Adam who had a fresh bucket of ice in his hand while Pa carried a tray that had been sent up from the kitchen which had on it the broth from Hop Sing.

Hoss stood from his chair and met his father by the foot of the bed.  Pa and Adam set their labor down onto the nightstand and then turned towards Hoss.

“I don’t know, Pa – Joe said he doesn’t want to go home in the morning – but he won’t tell me why,” Hoss called out frustrated.  He and Joe always had a relationship where they could talk candidly with each other but apparently not that night.

Ben cleared his throat and cast a look at Joe who had his arms folded across his chest showing that his mind was made up about going home and for some unknown reason he didn’t want to go back there.

“Okay, it’s getting late.  So, what I’m going to do is go into the other room and get into my nightshirt and robe.  In the meanwhile, you two boys see if you can talk sense into your little brother.  Now as for you, Joseph,” He paused and stared down at the boy and pointed his finger at him.  “You drink that broth.  We made sure that it wasn’t too hot.  All you’ve had is water and medicine and Doc gave me strict instructions that you were to drink that broth tonight.  When I get back here, I’m going to put ice on your face, give you some medicine and then you’re going to rest up.  Now you three act right – your Pa is getting tired and cranky,” he stated firmly, and turned out of the room.

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

Not hearing any noise from outside the bedroom, Ben deduced that Joe must’ve gone to sleep.  But when he entered the room and stared over at his three sons, he realized that Joe was simply giving everyone the silent treatment.

“Still hasn’t cracked, huh?” Ben questioned looking back and forth between Hoss and Adam.

“No, Sir,” Adam sighed and stood from the chair.  “He’s practicing his ignoring people skills I think, Pa.”

“He don’t need no practice, Adam, he’s done mastered it,” Hoss quipped and walked over to his father who had now gotten into his bedclothes.

Ben shook his head wearily and replied, “He knows better than to pull that stuff with me, Boys.  You two go on to bed – I’ll handle tonight since I got some sleep earlier.”

“Goodnight, Pa – goodnight silent one!” Adam called across the room.

“You give Pa any of this silent business, Little Brother, and I’ll come back in here and sit on you until you’re forced to tell me to get up off you!  Goodnight,” Hoss grinned and walked out of the bedroom and closed the door.

“Here, Son,” Ben handed Joe the broth that he could tell the boy hadn’t even tried to drink.

“Cold now,” Joe muttered.

“Well, it wouldn’t be if you had cooperated – now drink it.  It’s not going to hurt you,” Ben returned sternly because he had to at the time.  He felt awful for all that his son had endured but he couldn’t let his sympathy interfere with trying to take care of him.

Joe slowly got down half of what had been in the mug and set it back on the nightstand.

Ben frowned and handed it back to Joe.  “Finish it up, Joseph.”

“Can’t – hurts.”

Sighing, Ben sat down on the bed next to his son and put his hand on his shoulder.  “Just finish it for me, will you?  You’ve got to take in some nourishment – especially when you’re taking strong pain medicine.”

Joe lifted the mug to his lips and with a great amount of effort polished off the broth.

Ben smiled and patted the boy’s arm.  “Thank you.  Now we need to get that bandage off.  I’m going to do this as gently as I can so just hold still.”

Drawing his right hand up quickly, Joe covered his bandage blocking his father’s move.  “No.”

“Joseph – come on I’ve seen this — it’s okay.”

“Awful,” Joe whispered his eyes clouding with tears.

Ben shook his head and gently pulled his son’s hand off the bandage.  “I know that’s how you feel – because it hurts so much right now.  It has a lot of healing to do – it’s only been two full days since you got hurt, Joseph.  Now, you hold still for me, okay?”

Closing his eyes, Joe nodded and waited for his father to remove the bandage.  He felt the tug of the material against his sutures as his father removed one corner at a time, finally freeing it from his face.

“There now – I didn’t pull too hard, did I?”

Joe shook his head and watched his father getting the ice pack ready.  It wasn’t long before Pa had made him ease back against the pillows with the ice in place over the wound.

“Now – how about telling me – in as few words as you can – why you don’t want to go home in the morning?” Ben asked as he sat down in the chair.

Pointing to the wound, Joe replied, “This.”

“Your cut?  I don’t understand, Son.”

“Don’t want — don’t want anyone – anyone seeing me,” Joe stuttered and then tears filled his eyes again.

Ben drew in a deep breath as he finally understood what the boy had been worried about.  Joe hadn’t wanted anyone to see him even with the bandage on.  He struggled internally trying to figure out what to say that might allay Joe’s fears, knowing how proud he’d always been.  This was a definite blow to his son’s ego, having the large bandage covering the horrible wound underneath it.

“Joseph –,” Ben began, searching for the right words again.  “We won’t be long – just long enough to get you into the buckboard.”

“Don’t want – anybody – anybody — see me like this,” Joe’s voice shook as he responded trying hard to get his father to understand.

Ben reached over to Joe and flipped the icepack and set it back onto the wound.  “I understand,” He nodded to the boy.

“Dark – go in dark,” Joe whispered, the pain from underneath the icepack stabbing at his mouth with each word he managed to get out.  Joe’s tear-filled eyes scanned his father’s face to determine if Pa understood his intentions.

“It’s okay, Joseph,” Ben nodded and placed his hand on top of his son’s trying to calm him.  “We can bring you back home as soon as it gets dark tomorrow.  Now how’s that?”

“K,” Joe answered.

“Now let’s get you the medicine so you can go to sleep and maybe I can too.”

Joe nodded as Pa filled the tablespoon and slowly drizzled it inside his mouth.  Ben turned the ice over two more times in the next fifteen minutes and then prepared the new bandage.  He moved to the bed and carefully dried around the sutures.   Right before he placed the bandage over the wound Joe’s right hand stopped him again.

“What is it?”

“Pa —-mirror,” Joe said and pointed across the room where there was a bureau and on top of it sat a hand mirror.

Ben stared over to where his son had motioned.  There wasn’t a chance in Hell that he was going to let the boy look at his wound; not yet.  He had to be firm about Joe’s request this time and brace himself in case the boy protested or, worse yet, decided to get out of bed and reach for it himself.

“Listen here, Young Man, I am NOT getting you that – not now at least.  I don’t want you to look at this wound until it’s had some time to heal.  It’s going to look a great deal better in a few weeks,” He stated emphatically.

“Never – scar for life – he said — gift from her,” Joe replied bitterly.

“No, Joseph – no to both statements.  It’s not going to be a scar for your whole life – and it surely wasn’t any kind of a gift – and never from your mother.”

“Pa,” Joe cried out in desperation as tears began to fall from his eyes.  He was physically injured due to his wound, and he was emotionally injured due to everything Francois had said about his mother.  The evil man’s words just kept on repeating in his mind and had done it even in his sleep.

Ben leaned forward and secured the bandage over Joe’s wound.  Afterwards he pulled his son into his arms and just held onto him, allowing Joseph to cry it all out.  There were no words that could ease the boy’s pain and Pa knew it.

“It’s going to be okay,” He whispered as he held his son who had finally played out and was sound asleep held there in his arms.  *** God —please— please – help my boy. *** Ben prayed.

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

Ben walked inside the bedroom where Joe was getting ready for the trip back home.  He had a rough night, as had his father, trying to help him through quite a few nightmares.  Doctor Martin had come by earlier on in the day and advised Ben on how to help care for Little Joe once they got back to the Ponderosa and told him that he would be coming out the following day to check on the wound.

“Take it easy, Joseph,” Ben called over to the boy as he watched him pulling on his boots.

Joe looked at his father and noticed the package he was carrying over to the bed.  He didn’t want to talk as it was too painful every time he had done it the past two days, but he shot Pa a questioning look as he sat down alongside of him on the bed.

“Oh – this,” Ben smiled and handed the box to his son.  “Well – your shirt and jacket – they – well – we couldn’t save them.  Hoss brought you that shirt you’ve got on from the ranch, but I figured it was about time to get you a new jacket.  That old blue one had seen better days.”

Joe removed the top of the box and pulled out a green corduroy jacket.  He just sat there and stared at it.

Looking over at his son Ben could tell that the boy was caught up in the memory of that awful night again.  He tried to think of something to say.

“You’ve always said that your favorite color is green – so when I saw that at the mercantile earlier today –well I thought you might like it.”

Joe wouldn’t have smiled even if he could have at the time.  It wasn’t because he didn’t like the jacket, because he did.  But it was the memory of what he had been wearing the night that his face had been carved up that made him sit there and look so forlorn.  He knew from what Pa hadn’t said that the reason that both his shirt and blue jacket weren’t salvageable was because they were coated with blood from his wound.

“It’s going to be okay, Joseph,” Ben whispered, reading what was in his son’s eyes.  “You ready to leave?”

Joe placed his left hand on his father’s arm and held it there for a minute trying to think of what he could manage to say that wouldn’t hurt too much.  “No-one – see me,” His words came out adamant yet still a bit hard to understand due to the swelling from the cut that he had on the inside of his mouth.

Ben shook his head and reassured, “Hoss already has the buckboard right outside the hotel.  Nobody’s around, Son.”

Satisfied by what his father had said, Joe stood from the bed and pulled the new jacket on.  It fit perfectly and had it been any other occasion he would have smiled to see how good it looked on him.

Ben reached over and popped the collar of the jacket up and smiled at his son.  “There – you always kept the collar of that blue jacket up – let’s keep with tradition.”

Joe nodded and walked alongside his Pa as they made their way out of the suite and into the hallway.  Peering apprehensively in both directions, Joe made sure that nobody was walking in or out of the other hotel rooms.  He had been serious about not wanting to be seen and Pa watched as the boy slowly eased over to the staircase.

“Remember that Paul said for you to go slow, Joseph – there’s no need to hurry,” Ben whispered knowing that his son was weak from all the blood loss and that he was also dealing with the latent effects of the mild concussion he had incurred.

The two Cartwrights made their way down to the bottom step just as the front door to the hotel opened and Linda Dow walked inside with her parents.  Joe stopped dead in his tracks horrified that the girl might see him and the huge bandage on his face.

“Little Joe!” Linda called out and hurried to the stairs.  She noticed the large bandage on the boy’s face.  “Oh, we heard about you getting hurt.  How are you?”

Joe simply dropped his head down to his chest and tried his best to ignore Linda.  He covered the bandage with his right hand, but the girl had already spotted it.

“My parents and I were just coming for an early dinner, Joe – are you going to be okay?  I heard that someone got a hold of you and cut your face.  It must have been horrible for you,” Linda continued to pry and all the while Joe never looked back up.

“Excuse me but my son and I must be going,” Ben interrupted the girl and caught a hold of Joe’s arm and helped usher him out of the hotel quickly.

“Sorry, Pa — they got past me before I could warn you,” Hoss apologized as he jumped down from the buckboard.  He had seen Linda and her folks walk into the hotel at the last minute.

“Let’s just get Joseph home,” Ben whispered and assisted the boy into the back of the wagon.

Joe eased down on top of the two bedrolls which had been spread out to cushion his ride.

“Look here, Joe,” Adam called as he approached the buckboard.  He pulled with him Cochise and tied her reins to the back railing of the wagon.  “We figured you could use something nice to look at on the way home.”

“Home – now,” Joe insisted staring at his father with worry all over his face.  He rolled over onto his left side so no-one could get a look at him as the wagon headed back to the ranch.  He held his right hand up over that side of his face to cover the bandage.

Pa nodded and climbed up on the bench seat next to Hoss.  “Let’s get this boy back home where he belongs,” He whispered.

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

Hop Sing had been listening out for the return of his American family and came running out of the front door the moment that the buckboard pulled up in the yard.

“Little Joe – Hop Sing vely happy to see you,” The cook smiled and helped Joe out of the wagon.

Joe just nodded to his old friend as they moved inside the house closely followed by his father and brothers.

“Have room all ready have broth on stove – two kind for you, Little Joe – so you choose okay?”

“Hop Sing,” Ben called to the man as he drew closer to him.  “Doc doesn’t want Joseph to talk right now.  Let’s let him get some rest – it was a long trip home.  Come along, Son.”

Joe gave Hop Sing’s shoulder a brief pat and walked up the stairs next to his father.  He felt as though it had been a million years since he had been at home and was looking forward to being in his own bed.

Pa opened the bedroom door and ushered his son inside.  Joe stopped in his tracks when he spotted his bureau.  The mirror was gone.  He spun around and stared at his father with anger in his eyes.

“No, not yet, Joseph,” Ben said sternly.  He understood why his son now appeared to be upset.

Joe stood and pointed over at the bureau and shook his head, frustrated by what his father had done.

“Doc doesn’t want you looking at a mirror until you’re healed up a bit.  Now it’s not going to hurt anything to wait, Son.  Let’s get your nightshirt on you and then you crawl into that bed and get some rest.”

Joe broke away from his father and walked across the room.

“I had Adam take the hand mirror away too, Joseph.  Just come over here and stop worrying about all that right now.”

Joe pulled his jacket off and tossed it down into his chair.  He was angry and not just about the mirror situation either.  Joe was angry at his life and how it had spun out of control.  He remembered that the last time he was there in his bedroom he was happily getting ready to go to the barn dance and hoping to get Linda to agree to go with him to the church social.  Now the girl had seen him and knew that his face was carved up.  He was mad about running into her.  He was angry that nobody had stopped him from coming down the stairs in time.  But most of all he was angry at the stranger who had cut up his face and angry at his mother for being the one to blame for why he had done it.

“Joseph,” Ben began to choose his words carefully as he walked over to the boy.  “I know you’re hurting – and not just physically.  Let’s just take this one day at a time, okay?  Right now, you’ve got to rest so you can heal up.  We need to get some food into you too.”

Joe stared up into his father’s eyes and shook his head as his anger was replaced by an overwhelming feeling of utter hopelessness.  “Pa –,” He whispered, his eyes brimming with tears.  “Never — never be – the same.”

Ben pulled his son into his arms feeling almost as overwhelmed as his boy was at the time.  “You are the same, Joseph,” He responded quietly.

“No – no, Pa,” Joe choked out, still hurting with every word he attempted to get out of his mouth.

“In time, Son – in time,” Ben assured the boy.

“Tired,” Joe replied and pulled himself away.  He slowly began to unbutton his shirt as tears continued to drift down his cheeks. Grabbing the nightshirt, which Hop Sing had laid out on the bottom of his bed, he pulled it over his head.  Then Joe removed his boots and the rest of his clothes.  He then eased onto the bed, pulling his covers up around him.  Ben watched as his son lay there motionless, his eyes staring blankly up at his ceiling as though in a trance.

Making sure that Joe’s head was propped up on his pillows before leaving the room, Ben eased out into the hall.  He sighed wearily and then walked down the stairs.

“How’s he doing?” Adam asked, meeting his father there on the last step.

Ben shook his head and frowned.  “Not good, Son.  It didn’t help that we ran into that girl as we headed to the buckboard.”

“Gosh I’m so sorry, Pa,” Hoss apologized.  “All’s I did was turn my head for just a minute.  Pete came over to ask me how Joe was doing and it took all I could to try and get him out of the way.  That was Linda Dow – the new girl that Joe was trying to get to notice him at the dance.  He’s been wanting to get her to go to that church social – and – well she agreed before she left that night.  Did she see him?”

Ben sank down into his chair by the fireplace and nodded.  “Worse.  She caught us on the stairs so Joe couldn’t run off.  Then she said that she’d heard that he’d been cut – and – was busy asking questions with Joseph standing there just looking down and trying his best to hide the bandage.  But she saw it of course.”

“Poor kid,” Adam remarked as he sat across from his father.  “I suppose he noticed that we took his mirror away when he got into his room?”

“Yes – and he wasn’t very pleased.  That boy is dealing with so much right now I’m worried about him.  He’s got the pain from that wound – inside his mouth hurts and those sutures are pulling on his face pretty badly right now too.  And on top of the physical pain is the emotional trauma he’s going through.  There’s a lot of questions that need to be answered, but he’s in such a fragile state right now – well – we’ve got to give him a little more time before we go asking about everything that happened that night.”

“What can we do for Little Joe?” Hoss asked.

“There isn’t much you boys can do right now.  I have to bring ice up to him in a few minutes to help with that swelling.  Paul said that’s important along with keeping up with his pain medicine.  Listen, I’m going to keep the laudanum somewhere in the kitchen – I just don’t want it — well—” Ben trailed off but his eyes told what was on his mind.

“Pa – you don’t think that Joe would try to take more than he needs?”

Ben shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Hoss, your little brother is distraught right now – and when someone is feeling that way – and is hurting a lot they can do foolish things.  I’m just going to make sure that Joseph won’t do anything like that.  Maybe I’m just being overly protective – as usual – but I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

“I don’t think it’s such a bad idea,” Adam agreed.  “Let me go ask Hop Sing about the ice while you sit down for a few minutes.”  Adam offered and headed into the kitchen.

“You want me to go up and stay with Joe?”

“Sure – maybe if you’d just sit with him – well at least he would have one of us.  Joe might be asleep so ease into his room, Hoss.”

Hoss nodded and headed up to his little brother’s room hoping all the while that he could help the boy in some small way.

Before Hoss could get all the way up to Joe’s room, there was a loud crash coming from upstairs that everyone heard.  Ben sprang from his chair worrying that somehow Joe might have fallen from his bed.  He met Hoss halfway up the staircase and the two of them ran the rest of the way, finally making it into Little Joe’s room.

“Joseph!” Ben shouted as he opened the door and spotted his son, dressed only in his nightshirt, throwing anything he could get his hands on around the room.  He then noticed that the boy no longer had the bandage on his face.

Joe went down onto the bare floor, kneeling with his hands held up over his face.  As Pa and Hoss drew closer, they noticed a hand mirror broken into pieces lying on the floor next to the boy.

“Joseph – why?  I told you what Doc said!” Ben complained as he knelt alongside his son.

“I – I had – to – know,” Joe sobbed still covering his face with his hands.

“Little Brother—,” Hoss started as he grasped for the right words that would comfort him.  “It ain’t gonna look like that for long.”

“Go — away – don’t look – Hoss,” Little Joe pleaded.  He felt that it was bad enough that Pa knew what he looked like, he didn’t want anyone else to see the hideous appearance of his face.

Turning to stare up at Hoss, Ben tilted his head to signal his middle boy out of Joe’s room.  He knew he would have to deal with the situation by himself.

Hoss sighed and turned out of his brother’s room feeling at a total loss over what to do to help Little Joe.

Placing a hand onto his son’s shoulder Pa whispered, “I wish you hadn’t done it — it looks worse now than it will after it heals, Son.  It’s got those stitches and it’s all swollen.  Joseph, it’s going to get better.”

“She – she caused this – her gift – her fault,” Joe choked out shaking his head full of disbelief over the extent of his wound.  He had known it was bad due to how much it hurt, but it wasn’t until he’d gone across the hall and had stolen his father’s hand mirror that he’d found out how hideous he now looked.

“No, Joseph – no-one caused this other than the man who cut you.  Now come on – let’s get you up into your bed.”

Joe rocked back and forth on his heels.  “I – I look – horrible – horrible,” He stuttered.

Ben attempted to pull his son into his arms to comfort him, but Joe resisted.  “You — lied – never be the same – Pa — never!” He cried out, and as he did, the wound inside his mouth began to bleed even more than it had earlier.  And though it made him hurt far worse, Joe didn’t care because he was too swept away with sorrow over the vision of his wound and how it would leave him with an unsightly scar for the rest of his life.

Needing to resort to drastic measures, Pa forcefully pulled Joe’s hands down from his face.  “No – I didn’t lie – you ARE the same!  You have an injury – that needs healing — but you ARE the same, Joseph!”

Blinking back tears Joe stared into his father’s eyes and said, “Look at me — with – your eyes – not your heart — Pa.  Not – the – same,” Joe insisted.

“You are much more than your appearance – you’ve always been beautiful in my eyes – but not because you are handsome.  It’s what you are inside that makes you beautiful, Joseph.”

Joe shook his head hopelessly. “No-one looks at – what’s inside – Pa – not if – you’re ugly — on outside,” His words came out filled with desperation as he choked on his tears.  “I’m ugly – now — Pa,” he insisted, his voice hitching in and out mimicking his shallow breathing.

Ben reached over and tenderly pushed aside the tears as they rolled down his son’s face.  “Give it time to heal – just give it time, Joseph, before you make any conclusions over what it will look like.  It’s not going to look like it does right now.  Now – come on, Son, let’s get you in bed.”

Joe was weakened due to his injury and didn’t have any fight left in him.  The blood from the cut inside his mouth continued to flow faster due to him getting so upset and talking far too much.  He allowed his father to pull him up off the floor and lead him to his bed.  Joe crawled underneath his covers and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, leaving Pa standing there alone in stunned consternation.  He made his way over to the nightstand and cut the bandage material, securing it over his son’s wound.  *** Oh Joseph. *** Ben sighed as he sat down in the chair next to the bed.  Once again it was going to be another long night for the distraught father.

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

Doctor Martin shook his head in frustration as he finished examining Little Joe the next day.  He had noticed that the wound inside his patient’s mouth appeared worse than it had looked the previous day and it worried him.  He could also read the exhaustion on Joe’s troubled face.

“Okay, I’ve got to put my foot down now,” Paul announced as he looked over at Ben sitting there on the bed next to his son.  “This boy has been overdoing it.  I don’t want him to talk at all!  If he needs to say something, then get him some paper and a pencil.  That wound in his mouth is bleeding just as badly as it did two days ago.”

Ben sighed and placed his hand onto Joe’s shoulder.  “It’s my fault, Paul, I should’ve stopped him.  He talked too much last night.”

“Yes, I know all about it – Hoss told me when I got here about that hand mirror.  Now, Little Joe, I told you that I didn’t want you to look at your wound.  It’s natural that it looks worse now than it will later because it’s only been a couple of days since it happened.  Now, stop going against your doctor’s orders for a change,” Paul admonished his patient, but he also showed compassion on his face as he did it.

“I’ll get him some paper, Paul.  Now what else?”

The doctor sighed and stared into Joe’s eyes.  “Little Joe, it’s not easy to drink when your mouth hurts, but you’re going to have to try a bit harder.  I need to get you started on soft foods, but we can’t do that until you prove that you can manage more broth and the like.  I was hoping for soft-cooked eggs in a day or so and maybe some porridge; things that wouldn’t irritate your mouth or require you to chew so it won’t bother your sutures.  But you’ve got to push yourself to get down whatever Hop Sing brings you to drink today and tomorrow.  Okay? Don’t speak just nod.”

Joe nodded because he just wanted the examination to be over.  He was at the point where he didn’t care much about anything, even about getting well.  Seeing his face had taken away all his desire to move forward with his life.  He didn’t believe one thing that either his father or the doctor had said.  He figured that they were just saying that his wound would get better to keep him quiet and get him to cooperate with them.  But he knew that a cut which was the size that he had seen the previous night wasn’t going to go away, and if it did, it would without a doubt leave a long and very noticeable scar on his face.

“Have you been icing it, Ben?”

“Yes, well we did twice yesterday.”

“Let’s move that up to three times a day for now,” Paul announced and gathered his instruments, placing them in his medical bag.  “I’ll be back tomorrow to see how the wound is doing.  Little Joe I expect a good report about you so don’t you let me down,” Doc smiled and patted the boy’s arm as he turned to leave.

Ben stood and walked Paul out of the room.

“Seeing that wound of his took a lot out of him, Paul.”

Shaking his head Doc frowned and replied, “That’s why I didn’t want him to go looking at any mirror.   I’m sure it was a shock, and to be honest if I was a young man like Joe, it would’ve thrown me for a loop too.  He’s just dealing with so much, Ben.  It’s bad enough he’s got that wound but the way it happened and whatever that man said to the boy is eating him up on the inside too.”

“I’ll get him some paper – maybe if we let him tell us all about what happened to him – it might help some?”

“It’s worth a try.  Now you get some rest and let Hop Sing help tend to the boy.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Paul,” Ben returned, shaking the doctor’s hand as he made his way to the front door.

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

Later that afternoon both Ben and Hop Sing brought ice to Joe’s room.  The boy had just awakened as the two men made their way inside and over to him.

Pa sat down on the bed and reached for his son’s bandage.  Joe shot his hand up blocking his father’s move.

“Now, Joseph, it’s time to put ice on you to lessen that swelling.  You heard Doc.”

Joe pointed over to Hop Sing.

Drawing closer to the bed, the cook and caregiver said, “Little Joe, Hop Sing help you – help you always.  You let Hop Sing see – not to worry – alight?”

Joe shook his head and started to say something, but his father gripped his arm and shot over a warning look.

“No, Joseph, no talking.  Now you wouldn’t want to hurt Hop Sing’s feelings, would you?”

“You see – I help you,” Hop Sing smiled broadly trying to convince the boy.

Ben reached over and pushed his son’s hand aside and removed the bandage.  Joe closed his eyes, afraid to witness the look of horror that he expected to see on Hop Sing’s face.

“Not bad – just need time,” Hop Sing called down to Joe.  “Here ice – it help,” he said and handed the towel to Ben.

“You see there, Joseph?  Hop Sing said the same thing that I’ve told you.”

Joe shook his head presuming that Pa had told the other man exactly what he needed to say before coming up to his bedroom.

“I sit, Mister Ben, you go downstair,” Hop Sing insisted and sat down in the chair by the bed.

Giving up his place next to Joe, Ben stood and smiled down at the cook.  “Doc wants ten minutes on and ten minutes off.  And then do that three times, okay?  I’ll be up shortly.”

Hop Sing nodded and pulled Ben’s pocket watch off the nightstand and took note of the time.

Walking to the bedroom door, Ben cast a look across the room.  *** Well, it’s a start – one down – two more to go before the boy lets the rest of the family help him. *** He thought to himself as he turned out into the hall.

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

Two days after Little Joe returned to the Ponderosa Sheriff Roy Coffee paid a visit to the ranch house.  He was greeted by Hop Sing.

“Mister Ben up with Little Joe, Sheriff,” The cook announced as he led the man into the living room.

“Is it okay if I go up?”

Hop Sing nodded, “Yes – please to let me tell Mister Ben first.”

Roy nodded, “I’ll just wait here and you can let me know.”

Hop Sing walked up the stairs and down the hall to the boy’s bedroom.

Ben had just finished placing the bandage on his son’s face after icing the wound good.

“Sheriff down stair, he want see you.  I say wait I ask.”

Ben turned to look at his son and asked, “Joseph?  Are you up to some questions?”

Joe shrugged his shoulders noncommittally and then finally nodded up at his Pa.

“Tell Roy to come up, Hop Sing.”

The sheriff was waved upstairs by the cook and walked into Joe’s bedroom.

“I hope I’m not bothering you two,” Roy said as he neared the bed.  “How’re you doing, Little Joe?”

Joe paused and stared over at his father.

“Joseph is not allowed to talk by orders of Doc Martin.  But the boy has a writing pad if that’ll help, Roy.”

“That’ll be just fine,” He nodded and sat down in the chair next to the bed.  “I haven’t had too much luck yet, because I ain’t got a description other than Joe saying the man had a French accent.  I did talk to Bill Gentry at the International House, and he did have a guest who he thought might have had an accent.  He signed in as Frank Brown.  The man left the morning before Joe was taken.  Little Joe?  You think you could manage to write me up a description?”

Ben handed the notepad and pencil to his son.  “Just try to remember whatever you can, Joseph.”

Joe closed his eyes as the scene played out in his mind.  He saw the man looking at him as he knelt there in front of him.  He felt him running his hand through his hair and down his cheek.  Joe started to shake and fought to catch his breath.

Ben and Roy exchanged worried glances seeing the effect the memory was having on the boy.  Pa was just about to put a stop to the whole thing when he noticed Joe was beginning to write.

*** Man – French accent.  Medium build.  Six foot tall – or thereabouts.  Dark eyes. *** Joe wrote the description and passed it over to Roy.

Roy studied the notes and said, “This helps some, Joe.  But anything else you can tell me?  Did he say how he knew you?  Did he say why he cut you?”

Ben returned the pad to his son and Joe began writing, and as he did his father could see the intensity in his eyes and on his face.

*** He said he had watched me for a while and had seen me at the dance.  He followed me to livery.  Hit me on the head.  Next thing I knew I was tied to a tree in the middle of nowhere.  He knew my mother.  He said the two of them — *** Joe stopped writing and angrily pulled the paper from the pad and balled it up in his hands and threw it across the room.

“Joseph – Joseph it’s okay,” Ben attempted to control the rage that he could tell was building up inside his son.

Roy walked across the room and picked the paper up and smoothed it out.  He read it then handed it for Ben to see.

Ben scanned what his son had written and then stared over at Joe.

“Go ahead, Joseph, let’s get this out in the open,” He called softly and handed the notepad back to the boy.

Joe’s hand shook as he picked up the pencil.  *** My mother rejected him.  They had been together many times – he said he bought her things so she would – sleep –with him.  But when he didn’t have anything more to give her, she pushed him aside and scratched his face.  He said she had tried to scar him but the scar went away.  He wanted to scar me – he said as a gift from my mother.  He said he was saving me from living the kind of life she led.  He said no woman would ever want me—after he was done cutting me – and he was right.  He cut me – he ruined me – him and my mother. *** Joe handed the note to Roy.

The sheriff read it and grimaced over what the boy had written.  Roy passed it over to Ben for him to read.

“Joseph – don’t believe what that evil man said.  He had to be insane to take you and hurt you like he did,” Ben tried to get through to the boy.

Joe took the pencil in his hand again and wrote another note.  *** It’s her fault as much as his.  If she hadn’t done that to him then he wouldn’t have needed to do what he did to me.  I hate them both. *** Joe handed the letter to his father this time and not the sheriff.

Ben read it but didn’t share the message with Roy this time.

The sheriff cleared his throat and spoke up, “Little Joe is there anything else – anything that might help us find this man?”

Joe drew in a deep breath and picked up the pencil one final time.  His hand went back and forth on the page and Pa and Roy could tell that he was drawing something and not writing another message.  When he was finally done, he handed it to Roy.

After studying the drawing Roy handed it over to Ben.

His face growing pale, Ben stared down at a picture of a strange looking knife.  He tried to remember where he had seen one like that before.

“Little Joe – is that what that man used on you?” Roy asked.

Joe nodded and his right hand went up to his face due to the vivid memory that his drawing had conjured.  He felt the first stab of that sharp thin blade and then had blacked out due to the pain.  Joe jumped off his bed and raced to the washstand.  He leaned over and emptied his stomach.

Roy and Ben exchanged worried glances.  The boy had been petrified the whole time he had answered the sheriff’s questions and neither man had known the effect it would have on him.

Ben neared the boy and could see the blood which had come out along with the liquid breakfast Joe had drunk earlier.  He reached for a towel and soaked it with water from the pitcher next to the basin.  Placing it on the back of Joe’s neck he shook his head sadly.  He now wished he hadn’t agreed to let the boy recall what had happened to him.

“I’m sorry, Ben— Little Joe,” Roy said and gathered the pieces of paper and placed them into his vest.  “I’ll see what I can track down.  I’ll let myself out.  I’m really sorry, Little Joe.”

Ben turned and nodded to the sheriff as he stood and left the room.

“It’s alright, Joseph – it’s alright,” Pa whispered as he tried to help his son.

“No – never – never alright,” Joe moaned.

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

A week passed by slowly, at least for all the Cartwrights.  They marveled over how compliant Little Joe had become and that fact worried everyone.  The boy did whatever he was told to do without the slightest bit of argument and that wasn’t like him at all.  He had always had a stubborn streak and tried to get his own way about things; but no more.  Doctor Martin had pulled Ben aside after several trips to the ranch noticing the same thing that his father had.  Paul was worried that Joe had fallen into a deep depression ever since the night he had seen his wound.  And none of his family had been able to jolt the boy out of it though they tried every single day.

While the Cartwright’s were dealing with the aftermath of Joe’s injury, Roy Coffee’s investigation hadn’t turned up much.  The only break in the case so far had come about when he spoke again in length to the front desk manager at the International House Hotel.  Once the sheriff had shown the man the description he had gotten from Little Joe, Bill Gentry had said that the man who had registered as Frank Brown seemed to fit all the particulars.  He had also assured Roy that the man had indeed spoken with a French accent.  That was good to know, but the sheriff needed more leads to continue the investigation and now they had all dried up.

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

Doctor Martin made Little Joe sit in the chair next to his bed as he readied to remove the sutures.  It had been a full ten days since the boy had been stitched up and they needed to come out.

“Now you just hold still, and I’ll clip those knots and we’ll see how well I did this time, okay, Little Joe?”

Joe simply nodded and closed his eyes ignoring both the doctor and his father who stood just off to his right side.  Paul carefully began the arduous task of removing all the black knots which had held the wound together for over a week.  It had taken almost ten minutes to free the boy’s face of the sutures, but at last he stood and stretched his back.

“That’s got them, Little Joe,” Paul smiled down at his patient.

Ben didn’t say anything right away because he just couldn’t come up with something positive to offer his son.  Though the sutures were out now, what remained was an awful sight, especially seeing it on his son’s formerly handsome face.

Grabbing a wet towel, Doc wiped any residue from the boy’s wound and turned towards Ben.  “Now, just because I’ve gotten the sutures out doesn’t mean that this wound is healed.  You need to keep icing it for at least another week, Ben.  Joe?  How’s it feel?”

Joe shrugged his shoulders and didn’t say a word.

Paul shook his head and looked at Ben.  “Isn’t that something?  When I told this boy that he couldn’t talk for a while, all he did was talk.  And now that I’ve told him he can talk he won’t.”

“What would you like me to say?” Joe asked, sarcasm in his tone.  “I’m not a little kid, Doc, I know that you and Pa can see my face and how awful it looks.  Do you want me to lie and say I feel all better?”

Paul dropped his hand onto Joe’s right shoulder and replied, “I was just asking you if it felt better not having those sutures in your face, Little Joe.  Now as for how that wound looks – as I’ve told you on numerous occasions – you have to give something like this time to heal.”

Joe shook his head and tried to frown, though all the facial expressions that he had attempted to make ever since the day he had been cut hurt him so badly that they all came out like watered down efforts and no-one could tell if he was trying to smile or frown anymore.  “Doc, we all know that I’m gonna end up with a big ugly scar.  Why don’t you all just tell me to get used to the idea of how it’s going to be from now on instead of trying to fill my mind with false hope?”

“Oh?” Doc asked as he raised his eyebrows.  “Just how many years were you in medical school?”

Joe simply shook his head and stood from the chair.  “Listen, Doc, it’s not that I don’t appreciate all that you tried to do for me—because I do.  But you aren’t a magician – there’s only so much you can do.  I’d appreciate it if you’d just put a bandage on me and let me go lie back down.”

Paul sighed, both worried and disheartened by the boy’s attitude.  He prepared another cotton bandage to cover the wound once more.  “Little Joe, it’s okay to wear a bandage for a little while every day – but I want you to start airing this out.”

Joe continued to stand there as Paul secured the bandage over his wound.  He reached up and made sure that it was held in place and then replied, “Thanks – but I don’t want anyone to have to look at me.”

Ben exchanged concerned glances with Paul and shook his head over what his boy had said.

“How about some coffee before you go, Paul?” Ben asked, hoping to talk to the doctor about what he could do to help his son in private.

Doc smiled and nodded, “Sounds good, Ben, I was up late bringing in a baby last night and I could use some!”

The two men walked to the bedroom door as Joe eased back up on his bed.  “Joe – I’ll be by at the end of the week to check the wound and have another look at the inside of your mouth.  You might be able to start on regular food very soon – maybe as early as this weekend.  Now you be good and don’t give your pa any guff!”

“Thanks, Doc,” Joe nodded over to the man as he and Pa stepped outside.

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

“Joseph,” Ben called over to his son later that evening as he opened the bedroom door.  “Won’t you come down for dinner?  I know it’s not much fun since you can’t eat the same things that we’ll be eating – but wouldn’t you like to get out of your bedroom for a little while?”

Joe stared over at his father and shook his head.  “No, Pa – you go on and eat.  I’m not hungry and I don’t feel much like leaving my room tonight.”

“I wish you’d just try, Joseph,” Ben persisted, worried that the boy had spent far too much time in his room alone.

“Don’t feel like it.  Go on and eat, Pa,” Joe stated with no hint of emotion in the cadence of his voice.

“I’m still going to send Hop Sing up in a little while to bring you some broth.  And if I were you, I wouldn’t refuse him.  He can be just as stubborn as you are,” Ben warned and then left closing the door.

Once his father had gone, Joe gave him time to get to the dinner table and then he snuck out of his bedroom.  He stealthily made it to the top of the staircase making sure that he hadn’t been seen.  Joe just wanted to be sure that they were all seated and that Hop Sing was busy serving the food.  He had taken the time to grab the lamp from his room and held it out in front of him as he walked into his father’s bedroom.  Joe neared the bureau and set the lamp down.  Tugging his bandage off, he peered at his reflection and fought back the sickness in the pit of his stomach.  Joe was certain that he would throw up as he examined the scar on his face.  It was the first time that he had seen his wound without the stitches holding it together.  Joe still remembered when he had stolen Pa’s hand mirror a week ago and had gotten the first good look at his face.  It had made him gasp aloud and then his rage took over, causing him to throw the mirror to the floor sending shards of glass all over his bedroom.

Standing there in his father’s room he had made up his mind what he needed to do, but he had one last person to talk to first.  Lifting the lamp into his left hand, Joe turned out of Pa’s room and walked out closing the door behind him.

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

“Little Brother?” Hoss called through Joe’s bedroom door right after dinner was over.  “Joe – can I come on in?”

“Yeah, Hoss – come on ahead,” Joe answered as he sat up in his bed.

“Hop Sing told me that when he brought you up some broth a little while ago that you said that you wanted to see me.”

“Sit down for a minute, Hoss, okay?” Joe asked and swung his legs to the side of his bed.

Hoss nodded to his brother and sat down in the chair closest to the bed.  “What’s up, Joe?”

Trying to gather his nerve over what he needed to talk to his brother about, Joe drew in a deep breath and began.  “Hoss—well –you and me – we’ve always talked straight with each other – haven’t we?”

Hoss nodded and stared into Joe’s eyes trying to figure out what he was trying to tell him at the time.  “Yeah – we always have.”

Joe drew in a deep breath and attempted to say what was on his mind.  “Hoss – if I was to ask you something – something real important to me – would you tell me the God’s honest truth?”

“What is it?”

“Just answer me first, Big Brother.”

Hoss nodded and replied, “If it was really important to you – yeah I would, Joe.”

“Okay,” Joe said as calmly as he could at the time.  His left hand shook as it went up to his face.  Gently tugging the bandage loose from his wound, he dropped it down into his lap and then stared intently over at his brother.  “Hoss –,” Joe continued, but his voice began to crack with emotion, there wasn’t any getting around the fact that he was hurting but needed his brother’s help.  “Tell me – tell me the truth.  Does this look as bad as I think it does?”  Joe’s eyes clouded with tears as he looked into the penetrating blue eyes of the gentle giant before him now.

Hoss dropped his head down a bit, trying not to look directly at his brother’s scarred face.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide how badly he felt to see what had happened to the boy and how his face was marred in such a terrible way.

“C’mon, Hoss, be my brother – tell me the truth,” Joe pleaded, his voice shaking.

“Little Brother – you just got those stitches out – it ain’t gonna always look like it does right now!”

“Does it look horrible – tell me – I need you, please, Hoss.”

Hoss’ eyes teared up wanting to just leave the room and go and ask Pa to intervene, but he knew that he couldn’t.  Joe needed him, needed him to be honest with him.

“Please – please, Hoss – be a brother – be a friend,” Joe begged.

Drawing in a deep and hurtful breath, Hoss stared into the hazel eyes and finally nodded.  “Okay —it don’t look good – but that’s right now – that don’t mean it’s always gonna be this way, Little Brother.”

Joe’s chin quivered as tears rolled down his cheeks.  “Thanks, Hoss – I knew that I couldn’t ask Pa or Adam – they’d dance around a question like that.  Thanks for being my brother.”

Hoss stood from the chair and sat down on the bed next to Joe and wrapped an arm around the boy’s neck and said, “Short Shanks, even with that wound— and even if it does scar—well you’re still better looking than me.”

Little Joe mopped his face with the sleeve of his nightshirt and replied, “Hoss, don’t sell yourself short – there isn’t anything wrong with the way you look.  At least your face doesn’t look like mine.”

“Joe – why was this so important tonight?”

“I just needed to hear it – that’s all.  I mean I get tired of everyone trying to make it sound like I’m complaining about a little thing – they don’t realize that I know how bad it is.”

“Joe – you’ve got to give it time – wait and see – I betcha in a couple of months—,” Hoss trailed off as his brother stared into his eyes and shook his head.

“Now come on, Hoss, I don’t need to hear that one again.  I’m okay – I know what I’ve got ahead of me.”

“What can I do for you, Little Brother?  I’d do anything for you—anything to make you feel better.”

Joe pulled his hands up and covered his eyes as his tears began to fall once again.  “There isn’t anything you can do, Hoss—I know you’d do anything—but you have – by telling me the truth.”

Hoss patted his brother’s back and returned, “Joe, once you start getting around a little how about the two of us go hunting – or fishing or something to get you out in the fresh air?  Being outdoors always helps me maybe it would help you?.”

“Sure, Hoss – sure,” Joe nodded, half-heartedly.  “Hey – I guess I’m getting tired – how about we talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

Hoss stood from the bed and placed his right hand down onto Joe’s shoulder.  “You gonna be okay?  I can stay until you fall asleep?”

“I’m fine now, Hoss – really.  Go ahead and get some sleep.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Hoss looked down at his little brother and could see right through the carefully crafted façade he was wearing for his benefit.  He could tell that the boy was devastated.  Hoss couldn’t get over the huge scar that ran down more than half of the right side of the boy’s face.  He couldn’t blame Joe for being upset about it either.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Little Brother – you get yourself some rest, okay?”

“Sure,” Joe nodded and watched as Hoss made his way to the door.

“Goodnight, Joe.”

“Night, Hoss,” He replied and watched as his brother walked out closing the door behind him.

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

Ben had come up the back stairs that led up from the kitchen on his way to go and talk to his youngest.  When he arrived in the hallway, he was surprised to see Hoss standing about two doors down from Joe’s room leaning with his face toward the wall.  Drawing closer he heard the muffled cries coming from the big man.  Hoss had his arm in front of his face and was using the inside of his elbow to muffle his sobs as he leaned there.

“Hoss?  Son – are you okay?” Ben asked worriedly and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“No—no Pa – I ain’t okay.”

“What is it?”

“I – I was in with Little Joe – oh – Pa!  He made me – he made me—tell him the truth.  I didn’t want to, Pa—but I had to.”

“The truth?” Ben asked confused.  “Truth about what?”

“That scar of his – he said he needed me to be a brother and a friend and tell him the truth about whether it looked bad like he thinks it does.  I’m sorry—sorry, Pa.  I told him the truth.”

Ben frowned and shook his head.  “Hoss – turn around here, Boy—let me talk to you.”

Hoss finally turned to face his father, blotting his eyes on his shirtsleeve.

“Joe shouldn’t have put you in that position –I’m sorry, Hoss.”

“I shouldn’t have said it – but he took his bandage off – and – oh Pa –it is bad – real bad.”

Ben sighed and nodded, “I know, Son – I know it is.  Now I want you to go and get some sleep.  I’m going to talk to Joseph right now – don’t worry, okay?”

“I’m powerful sorry, Pa – I shouldn’t have told him the truth.”

“No— he asked you to be honest, Son – you did right.  Now go on, Boy– -get some rest it will be alright.”

Hoss nodded to his father and lumbered down the hallway towards his bedroom.

Ben shook his head as he watched his middle boy’s devastation.  Joe’s injury was getting to everyone in the family, and he knew that it was time to talk to the boy and attempt to be honest with him.  He walked down to his youngest’s room and walked in without knocking.

“Joseph – I want to speak with you,” he said as he moved over to the bed.

“What is it, Pa?  I was getting ready to go to sleep,” Joe complained.

Ben pulled the extra chair out from his son’s desk and pointed at the boy to get off the bed.  “You sit down there, Young Man,” he indicated the chair next to the bed.

“Why?”

“Do it,” Ben insisted, not willing to take no for an answer that night.  He pulled the chair along with him until he sat opposite the boy in the other chair.  “You and I need to talk.”

“I’m tired.”

“Fine—you can go to sleep as soon as we’re done,” Ben returned and stared over at his son’s face.  Joe had placed the bandage back over the wound after speaking with his brother.

Joe frowned and broke his father’s stare by looking down at the floor.

“I just spoke with Hoss—you shouldn’t have put your brother in that position, Joseph.  He’s very upset over what he said to you.”

“At least he told me the truth—better than I get from you,” Joe retorted with anger on his face and in his tone of voice.

“I’ve told you the truth – just like Doc has.  No-one knows how bad that scar will be until the wound has had a chance to heal.”

“Fine.”

“Joseph – what I have to say to you doesn’t have a thing to do with how you got hurt – who did it – or anything else.  I want to talk to you about where your head is right now.”

Joe looked over at his father and groaned.  “Pa — just look at me for God’s sake!” He yelled and yanked the bandage off his face.  “You tell me – does this look like me?  No – it doesn’t and you know it!  And it’s horrible – and you won’t even admit it because it’s my mother’s fault that it happened!”

Ben reached over and grabbed his son’s hand and held onto it tightly.  “I said we’re not talking about how it happened – that will be for another time.  I’m aware that you’ve gone through a terrible ordeal—but we can’t talk all of that out in one night.  There’ll be a time for that, Joseph.  It’s your wound and what it’s done to you that I’m talking about right now.”

“What it’s done to me, Pa?” Joe asked, desperation easily read in the inflection of each word that he had used.  “It has ruined my life—that’s what it’s done to me!  I can’t even leave this house for fear of someone seeing me.  I can’t even sleep unless I’ve got this bandage on!” Joe shouted.  “I’m nothing now – why can’t you see that?”

“Is that really how you view yourself, Son?” Ben asked incredulously.

“Yes – I’m nothing.  For years everyone’s always had all three of your sons pegged – I mean everyone knows it.  Adam – he’s the smart one—he’s the college man – the architect!  Hoss – well, he’s the strongest of the three of us – and he’s the one with the biggest heart.”

“And you?”

“Oh, come on, Pa!  You know that everyone thinks I’m the handsome one!” Joe insisted loudly.  “What am I NOW?  NOTHING that’s what!”

“Oh, Joseph,” Ben shook his head sadly, feeling so much pain over what his son had said that it made his heart hurt.  “You can’t possibly think that.  Is that how you’ve always seen yourself?”

“Yeah sure,” Joe nodded.  “Until now.  I’m just an ugly scarred young man who’ll have to spend the rest of my life with a big bandage over half of my face.”

“Being handsome – well – yes you’ve always been that.” Ben paused, “but that’s not what I see when I look at you.  I see someone with feelings and humor and a zest for life.  That’s what always made you beautiful in my eyes, Joseph, far more than your face ever did.”

“Okay, Pa – you’re my father – you would try to see the best in me—but let’s face it – that’s not how the rest of the world always saw me.  And the fact is that from now on I’ll just be known as the ugly one.”

“The only way you’d ever be ugly is if you let this scar control you and poison you and take away the beauty that’s always been inside of you, Son.”

Tears fell from Joe’s eyes as he cried out, “Pa – look at me!  My face is scarred!”

“I know it’s scarred – don’t you think I feel it?” Ben asked desperately, his voice shaking and his face taking on a stricken look.  “You are a part of me – do you think that I didn’t feel every single suture that Paul put on your face? I did!  What was done to you was done to me, Joseph!  I hurt – I hurt for you – and I feel the pain that you feel.”

Joe turned his face away from his father and pulled the bandage up, placing it back over his scar.  “I can’t do this, Pa,” Joe whispered as he dropped his face into his hands.  “I can’t live like this, I can’t.”

“I know what you did tonight.  I know that you went into my room and looked at yourself in my mirror – and that’s what started all of this.”

“I had to see – see if it was as bad as it was a week ago.  And it was worse than that.  I just can’t live like this – don’t you understand?”

Ben grabbed his son’s wrists and forced him to lift his head.  “I know what you’ve been planning, Joseph.  And I’m not going to let you do it!  Now, where is it?”

Joe refused to look at his father, he simply turned his face in the other direction.  “Let it be, Pa.”

“No,” Ben stated emphatically.  “You are more than a perfect face, you are a good person, and you know right from wrong.  And what you’ve been planning is wrong, Joseph, and you know it!  You are my son – my youngest and I am NOT going to lose you.  Now you’re going to fight through this.  Whatever may come – you’re going to keep living.  You and I will find a way over it, under it, around it, or through it if we have to but we’re going to get through it one way or the other.”

“Oh, Pa – I don’t have your strength – I never did.  Don’t expect it of me,” Joe sobbed.

Ben reached over and lifted his son’s chin to direct his gaze.  “I do expect it of you – because you are my son—that means you are part of me.  And I expect you to be stronger than me by the time I get done with you!  Now go ahead – hand it over, Joseph.”

Joe stared into his father’s eyes and read the fierce determination in them.  He pulled himself to standing and walked slowly to his bureau.  Pulling open the top drawer, Joe lifted out a bottle and brought it over to his father.  He handed it down to him.  It was the laudanum.

“No more of this, you understand, Joseph?  No more.  If you feel like it’s getting to be too much for you – well—you come to me and whatever may come – we’ll somehow get through it.”

“I can try, Pa—but I still don’t know if I can do this — I don’t know,” Joe trailed off with an overwhelming sadness very evident in what he had conveyed.

“Yes, you can,” Ben nodded adamantly.  “One day at a time and one step at a time, Joseph.  I’m not making light of any of this – I know we’ve got a lot to work through – but right now—I just need to know that you won’t do this ever again.”

Filled with remorse for making his father worry, he dropped his head down to his chest and then replied quietly, “I shouldn’t have taken it – I won’t do it again.  But – I’m afraid, Pa – afraid of even going outside – even with my bandage on.  It was getting to me – ever since I looked into your mirror.  And that’s why I had to ask Hoss about how I look now —to make sure that I was doing the right thing. I’m sorry, Pa — it was wrong – it was wrong what I had been planning to do tonight.”

Ben stood and wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him to his chest.  His fierce hold was filled with an increased urgency to it, due to his worry over what he had almost lost.   In the tightness of his embrace, Pa offered his son his own strength until Joe could regain his.  “Joseph, I love you.  Please don’t let this destroy you.  Let me help you, Son.  Let’s just take it slow from here on out, okay?”

Joe nodded his head, trying to assuage his fears though they still felt both overwhelming and insurmountable at the time.

“How about we start with that bandage?  You’ve been wearing it all the time.  How about you start by taking it off when you’re asleep?  You’ve got to start somewhere – -what do you think?”

“I’m not going out without it, Pa!” Joe insisted, worried that it would be his father’s next suggestion.

Ben offered an understanding smile as he reassured his son, “No – I’m not asking you to do that right now.  Just when you go to sleep at night.  How about it?”

Hesitating at first, Joe finally conceded, “Okay, but just when I go to sleep at night – that’s all.”

“Well, let’s start right now,” Ben announced and reached for the bandage and gently removed it from his son’s face.  “Now – go on to bed.”

Joe walked across the room and sat down on his bed.  He warily looked over at his father who still held the bandage in his hand.

“Don’t worry,” Ben grinned knowingly.  He walked to the nightstand and set the bandage next to the bed.   “It’ll be there tomorrow when you wake up.  Then I’ll expect you to put that on and come down to the breakfast table.  We all miss you, Joseph.”

Joe nodded and eased back on his bed.

“Goodnight, Son.  It’s going to be alright—you’ll see,” Pa assured.  He pushed the curls off his son’s forehead and placed a soft kiss upon it.

Joe watched as his father walked out of the room.  He was worried and he still didn’t know how he’d ever live a normal life now due to his terrible scar but at least he hadn’t gone through with his plan to end it all.  He closed his eyes and fell off to sleep.

Ben stood outside Joe’s bedroom door leaning up against it.  Sighing with relief he stared down at the bottle of laudanum in his hand.  He had discovered that it was missing earlier in the evening and presumed that it had to be Joseph who had taken it.  There was enough of the medicine left inside of the bottle to have killed the boy.  ***Thank you, Lord! *** Ben thought and drew in a deep breath.  He knew that Joseph was overwhelmed by all that had happened to him and that there was still so much to be worked through concerning who had cut him and how Marie might be involved but for right now the boy was safe and in his room.  Ben saw Hoss peeking out from his doorway looking at him with questioning eyes.

“It’s okay, Hoss, nothing to worry about — go on to bed,” He whispered and then watched his middle boy moving back into his bedroom.  Quietly sending off a short prayer of thanksgiving, he walked down the stairs.

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

Hop Sing silently climbed up the stairs from the kitchen making a three-a.m. visit into the youngest Cartwright’s bedroom.  He padded over to where Little Joe lay on his bed sound asleep, the right side of his face very visible now that he had removed his bandage.  The boy lying there had been the baby who Hop Sing had helped raise and had loved like a son.  He had taken care of him every time he had been sick or hurt in some way.  Hop Sing had listened to the little boy’s problems as a small child and had even run interference for him when he had gotten into trouble with his father.

Holding his lantern closer to the boy in the bed Hop Sing quietly muttered a few words in his native language and then reached down, pulling the covers around Joe’s shoulders.  He turned and set the lamp onto the nightstand and reached inside the pocket of his smock.  Hop Sing removed the letter which had already been written and sealed.  He would be sending it off the following day and prayed that his instincts would prove to be correct.  Little Joe, “his” Little Joe, needed help and there was only one person that he knew who he could turn to who might be able to assist the boy in order to heal him.

*** Not to worry, Little Joe.  Hop Sing help you – just as always. *** Hop Sing thought and tenderly placed the palm of his left hand on the sleeping boy’s scarred face.   “No night so long that you can’t find the day.  No day so wrong that you can’t find your way,” He whispered and then silently eased out of the bedroom.

The End

***The first in the series, this story will continue with the sequel titled, “No Night So Long”. ***

Written by Wrangler

1-16-2026

***The character in this story, Rene Marchant, can be found in the story titled, “Always My Son” ***

(Dedicated to Rob, the story consultant and so much more to me.)