6

Mrs. Hansen’s eyes were beginning to gain a small spark of hope. The meal and the friendship Ben extended seemed to be pulling her slowly back to life. Yet it was clear she would have a long road ahead, one she would need help traveling.

When Sheriff Coffee arrived, Ben met him outside. If Roy had brought with him any more bad news, Ben wanted to shield Mrs. Hansen from as much of it as possible, at least for a short while.

“How is she, Ben?”

Ben gazed toward the house and slowly shook his head. “Not well. But with a little help, I’m sure she’ll be alright.” He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. A moment later he asked, “Did you hear from Adam?”

“Sure did.” The sheriff pulled a slip of paper from his pocket, handing it to Ben. “It doesn’t say much, but should set your mind a bit more at ease.”

Ben read the message several times before pulling his eyes from the cryptic words.

ARRIVED PETERS STATION. FOUND STRAY. JAMES HANSEN. HOMESICK. DOC FROM CARSON COMING FOR JOE. JEB SAYS NOTHING BROKEN.

Despite Roy’s expectations, the message did not set Ben’s mind at ease. He still had no idea as to the type or extent of Joe’s injuries. And if the stage line was sending a doctor, that fact in itself gave Ben reason to worry.

“What do you suppose all that is about a stray?” Roy asked.

“What?” Distracted by his concerns for Joe, it took a moment before Ben recognized Roy’s question. “Oh. Yes. A stray child, I presume. Maybe Mrs. Hansen’s son James strayed from the group to try to make his own way home.”

“Maybe so,” Roy nodded. “You okay, Ben?”

Ben glared back at the sheriff. “Don’t you worry about me.”

He let his eyes move toward the house once more, and then made a hasty yet necessary decision. “Would you do me a favor, Roy?” he asked. “Send another message to Peter’s Station when you get back to Virginia City.”

“Now don’t you go thinkin’ about adding ‘messenger’ to my list of duties during the next town meeting!”

“You’re no more a messenger than I am a nursemaid!” Ben smiled for a brief moment. Mrs. Hansen needed more help than he could give—a different kind of help than he could give. “Just tell them to send the children back on the next stage in.”

“Did Mrs. Hansen say that’s what she wanted? She had her reasons to—”

“Right now, Roy,” Ben interrupted, “it’s what they all need. To be home, right here, together.”

Roy hesitated, studying Ben as though to assess whether his old friend was in his right mind.

Ben used that moment to add one more request. “And see if Mrs. Johnson might be willing to come out here to stay with them for a few days.” The widow Johnson could help this poor woman in ways Ben himself had no hope to understand.

XxXxX

Adam spotted the makeshift camp about thirty yards into the desert, in the lee of a group of boulders. As he approached, he made note of the small piles of mail bags and luggage that were arranged almost like furniture in a sitting room, gathered around the remains of a campfire. But it was one particular pile that held his attention, the one that provided support for the still form of Little Joe. It disturbed him to see that Joe did not stir. His youngest brother had always been alert on the trail, as quick to register the sound of an approaching rider as he was to spot a wayward calf. So why wasn’t he responding now? Surely he could hear there was a rider coming.

Dismounting, Adam eased James to the ground, his gaze not straying far from Joe until he heard a distant, shouted greeting. “Hey, Adam!”

He turned and waved to Ed Burke, who was approaching at a slow jog with three small children running along behind him, each calling out to James.

“Adam?” Joe’s voice was barely audible amidst the children’s high-pitched cries.

“Joe.” Adam moved closer to his brother and then knelt beside him. “I guess that stage bounced you around pretty good.”

Joe kept his eyes closed. “What are you doing here?”

“James!” the young girl shrieked yet again.

Adam glanced up to watch the loud reunion before returning his attention to his brother. “I thought you might need a little help.”

“You found James,” Joe said instead of answering.

“We found each other. He’d gone quite a distance. Might even have made it all the way back to Virginia City if both I and a determined mountain lion would have let him.”

Joe’s eyes shot open, and then narrowed to a squint, his brows knitted in worry. “M-mountain lion?”

As Adam noticed Joe’s focus moving past his shoulder, he felt a presence scurry up behind him. A quick glance downward gave him a glimpse of James’s feet.

“You should have seen it, Mr. Cartwright!” James said excitedly at Adam’s back. “Mr. Adam screamed at it and it ran away.”

“Mr. Adam?” Joe closed his eyes once more.

“Mr. Cartwright?” Adam grinned.

“I … can’t get them to stop calling me that. I-I never thought of trying Mr. Joe.”

“James!” Martin’s voice shouted nearby. “Ain’t you gonna tell me where you’ve been? We were lookin’ all over for you!”

Burke and the other children started to move closer—too close, judging by the way Joe’s brows creased. It was a pretty good indication the noise was making an already significant headache that much worse. Rising, Adam gestured toward Burke, who nodded in understanding, and then the two of them began to corral the children, moving them as far from Joe as they could.

“Isn’t there someone missing?” Adam asked after the children were settled.

“Gainsby,” Burke acknowledged. “Last I saw, he was headed southward.”

“South?”

Burke shrugged. “It didn’t much matter to me. I knew he wouldn’t be any help.”

“South,” Adam repeated. He turned, scanning the area until he spotted what appeared to be a boot sticking out from behind a rock. “I think I’d like to be the one to give Mr. Gainsby the good news about James’s safe return.”

XxXxX

Propping one foot on a rock and resting his elbow on his knee, Adam gazed down at Mr. Gainsby. He was lying on the ground with his hat covering his eyes and his fingers laced together across his chest.

Adam cleared his throat.

Jumping at the sound, the man fumbled to push his hat from his eyes. As he slowly came to awareness, he looked up, his gaze first falling to Adam’s feet, and then rising to his legs. He stared briefly at the gun on Adam’s hip before finally reaching Adam’s face. His eyes grew wider every inch of the way.

“I—I don’t have any money!” he stammered at last. “Not me. I don’t have anything at all!”

Adam stared at him.

“B-but back by the stage, there’s the money box. It’s still full.”

Adam said nothing.

“And I’m sure you’ll find something of value among the other passengers. From what I know, I’m the only one who lost anything in…in that wreck.”

Adam continued studying the man, standing motionless.

“Th-then there’s that Cartwright fellow. I understand his family is worth quite a bit. Even if…if he doesn’t have any money on him, I-I’m sure you could collect a ransom.”

Adam’s glare hardened.

The man’s eyes darted across Adam’s unmoving frame. He was actually beginning to shake. “I swear to you!” he shouted. “I have no money! No money at all!”

Briefly glancing away, Adam took a breath and let it out slowly. “But you expect those children might?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them. They’re a bunch of lying brats, they are.”

“As I understand it, you took everything they had back in Virginia City.”

The man’s face grew ashen. His brows drew downward in something like consternation. “H-have you been f-following me?”

Adam kept his gaze on the man, saying nothing at all.

“I took what was owed to me! But it’s gone. Every last dollar burned up in that wreck. I swear to it!”

Adam continued staring.

“What kind of bandit are you, anyways?”

“What kind of man are you?”

“Wh-what?”

“I’ll tell you what kind of man you are. You’re the kind who takes what he’s owed from a dead man for the sake of his own benefit without giving any thought to what that might do to his debtor’s widow or children.”

“Who are you?”

“You’re also the kind of man who would protect himself from bandits by deflecting their interest away from him, knowingly endangering children and a wounded man.”

“I ask you again, sir. Who are you?”

Adam dropped his foot from the rock and stood to his full height. “Adam Cartwright.”

The man’s eyes widened once more. His face went from ashen to red as he clumsily rose to his feet. “Why, how dare you come up here and pretend to be a bandit!”

“I did nothing of the kind. I came here to inform you that you could stop looking for that missing child. But apparently you’d already stopped—my guess would be you stopped before you even started.”

“Those brats are not my responsibility. They are the responsibility of the stage line—which I might add is also directly responsible for my financial loss.”

“Is that so?”

“It is indeed. They were duty bound to protect my valuables.”

“I understand they did protect the treasure-box.”

“They did not protect my money.”

“Which you were carrying without the driver’s awareness.”

“That is not the point.”

“No doubt.” Adam paused. “So your money was burned in the fire?”

“It was.”

“Do you have any idea what might have caused that fire?”

“Of course not. How could I know what caused it?”

“You were smoking a cigar. Is that right?”

“So what?”

“So…a lit cigar tossed on top of some flammable goods could certainly start a fire.”

“Well then, the fire was entirely your brother’s fault! I shall see to it both he and the stage line are held accountable!”

“I don’t think you want to do that.”

“And why not?”

“You do know they post signs at every way station advising passengers to refrain from smoking cigars when ladies are present.”

“There were no ladies on that stage.”

“What about Mary?”

“Why, she’s just a child.”

“Do you really think a judge or jury is going to see the distinction?”

The man’s face grew red once more.

“As to the fire, you do know the stage line has suffered a financial loss as well, don’t you? After all, they’ll need to replace that coach. I’m sure a new stagecoach doesn’t come cheap. I also hear they have some of the best lawyers in the country representing them. Any claim you file would probably be met with a counterclaim.”

“One way or another,” the man insisted, “I will be recompensed.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Absolutely not. It is a promise.”

“Okay then. Here’s a promise for you.” Adam took a step closer. “I promise, one way or another, my brother will be recompensed for his injuries; and the Hansens will be recompensed for their undue hardship.” He shrugged. “As to the stage line, I can pretty much guarantee they will also be recompensed.”

Gainsby met his glare with one of significantly less resolve. And then, scoffing, he started to walk away.

“I’d stop right where you are if I were you,” Adam called after him.

Though the man did stop, he turned an arrogant glare toward Adam. “Why should I?”

“You might be able to live with your greed, but rattlesnake venom is something else entirely.”

Slowly, his face grayer than before, Gainsby turned his head in the direction Adam indicate until his gaze landed on the coiled snake in his path. “Do something! Shoot it!”

“Why should I? It’s not bothering me.”

“My life is in danger! You have to—”

“I don’t have to do anything. You are not my responsibility.”

“How dare you!”

“How dare I?” Adam raised his voice for the first time since meeting this cold, gray man. “How dare you endanger my brother and those children because of your selfish need to smoke a cigar? How dare you suggest they become the target of bandits just so you could be spared?”

The snake rattled its tail.

“Shoot it, damn you!”

Adam stared at Gainsby, watching the man’s eyes dance left to right in terror. Any minute now, he would start running in panic and the snake, startled, would strike. Would that really be so bad?

Disgusted, Adam made a show of slowly drawing his gun. “I’ll take care of it for one reason, and one reason only.” He took aim. “To prove I’m not the kind of man you are!” He fired the shot and then walked away, leaving Gainsby alone and shaking in a desert more greedy and unforgiving than even that gray man could ever be.

XxXxX

At the sound of gunfire, Joe jumped. It was just a single shot, but enough to startle him, causing sore muscles to seize as though he had been caught directly in the explosion. Pain erupted all through him, making him wonder if there was any part of his body that hadn’t been bruised.

My fingers, he decided. My fingers don’t hurt.

He’d been lying still for too long. While his lack of movement eased both his headache and nausea, it had the reverse effect on strained muscles, making them stiffer and tighter with each passing hour. He had to try getting up again. He had to move.

Slowly, he pushed himself up to a sitting position, his arms and back burning with the effort. The ground beneath him took on the feel of a ship, the sand undulating like rolling waves. Though he was curious to learn who was out there shooting a gun, and, more importantly, why, he knew it wouldn’t matter anyway. There was nothing he could do except wait for the desert seas to calm. Resigned to that truth, he laid his forehead upon arms folded atop his upraised knees.

Some moments later, while the seas remained rough, Joe sensed someone approaching. Friend or foe, his reaction would be the same. He held his position, making no effort to look up.

“Need a hand?” Adam’s voice called down to him.

Joe took a deep breath, relieved to hear his brother’s steady voice. “I don’t suppose you could dock this ship on solid ground?” He could feel his brother’s eyes on him, surely assessing just how badly he was hurt.

“Sorry Joe.” Adam sounded disappointed. “But I can try to help you get your sea legs.” A moment later, Joe felt his brother’s arm wrapping around his back. “Ready?”

“About as ready as I can be.” Lifting his head, Joe squinted against the bright glare of the sun. Then he took another deep breath, snaked his own arm around Adam’s neck and steeled himself for the agony to follow. Even so, he wasn’t prepared for the pain that knifed through his arm and back as Adam rose, pulling Joe cautiously along with him.

“Stop!” Joe cried out in a rasp before Adam had straightened. “That’s far enough!” The world tilted and spun around him. He was retching before he even felt queasy.

Adam lowered him back to the ground. “Well, that answers that.”

“What?” Joe asked in a quivering whisper as he lay back against his crude pillows.

“You won’t be able to ride anytime soon, but I need to get you back to the way station.”

“I think I’d rather camp out here for a few more days.”

“You’ll be losing those cushions of yours within the next few hours. And the nighttime chill isn’t going to do you any favors.”

Joe said nothing. What could he say? He knew Adam was right. Holding his eyes tightly closed, he could sense his brother rising.

“Rest up,” Adam said. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“I’ll wait right here.”

He heard Adam’s soft chuckle. “You do that.”

“Hey, Adam? What was that shooting I heard?”

“Snake.”

“So you met Gainsby.” Joe grinned.

“Yeah.” Adam sighed loudly. “Now I can see why he got under your skin the way he did. You know, I have to admit as foolish and impulsive as you were to come out here….” He hesitated. “I’m not so sure I wouldn’t have done exactly the same thing.”

Joe eased one eye open, just a crack. “You—you’re serious?”

“I’m serious.”

Closing his eye again, Joe called out once more. “Hey, Adam?”

“Yeah, Joe?”

“Thank you.”

XxXxX

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