XxXxX

Epilogue

Joe glared at a knot in the center of an old tree stump. In his mind, it was neither a knot nor a stump. Instead he saw the shadowed face of Frank Carver’s brother. The man was about to draw. Joe had to let him draw first.

The fingers of Joe’s left hand twitched. He resisted the impulse to make a fist or draw too soon. Either action could steal precious seconds he couldn’t afford to lose. Then he realized he was holding his breath. That wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. Joe had to breathe steady and easy. He had to keep calm. He couldn’t allow himself to grow nervous.

Not quite a year ago, Joe had seen his pa outdraw that very man. Pa sure hadn’t been nervous. He’d been angry, though. That was enough to tell Joe he couldn’t do everything exactly the same as his pa. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t be a good idea to let himself grow angry like Pa had. There was something about Pa’s anger that, well, just didn’t quite fit the same on Joe. No. For Joe, anger wouldn’t be any better than nervousness. A gun was a dangerous thing in the hands of a nervous man. It was maybe even more dangerous in the hands of a hot-headed one like Joe knew he could be sometimes.

Yep. Joe had to stay calm. He breathed in and out three times, keeping that knot in his sights and watching for the slightest movement.

The thought had barely formed when he grabbed hold of the ivory handle of his brand new revolver and slipped it out of his equally new holster.

Doggone it! He shouldn’t have made the shot. He’d felt the barrel catch the slightest bit on leather–just enough to slow him down and mess up his aim. Heck, not only had he missed the knot, he’d missed the stump, sending his bullet into the ground a good six feet back.

Frustrated, he spun the weapon on his finger and returned it to the holster. Then he turned back to the knot, ready to try again.

Five shots later, Joe’s gun was empty and the knot remained very, very safe.

“Joe!”

He heard Adam’s shout before he realized a horse was approaching at a fast gallop, and he cursed himself again. What was wrong with him? A man who was in danger of being gunned down couldn’t ignore the possibility of other threats just because one was already right in front of him.

Frustration, fear, nervousness and anger all seemed to vie for Joe’s attention when he looked toward his brother. He could feel his heart racing a whole lot faster than Adam’s horse.

“You swore you wouldn’t treat that as a toy!” Adam hollered as he reined in. A heartbeat later he had his feet on the ground and his finger driving hard into Joe’s chest. “How many times do you have to be told? You don’t play with guns! Ever!”

“I wasn’t playing!” Joe hollered right back.

Adam didn’t seem to hear him. “Do you have any idea what went through my head when I heard those shots? I thought you were in trouble! I thought–”

“You’re not even supposed to be out here!”

“I thought you might want some help!”

“Well, I don’t!” The words were out of Joe’s mouth before he realized how wrong they were. He did want help. Only…not the kind of help Adam had intended to offer.

Seething, Adam turned his back on Little Joe and raised his eyes heavenward. His back rose and fell with several deep breaths before he rubbed a hand over his mouth and swiveled around to face Joe again. “Give it to me,” he demanded, his voice soft but chilling as he reached a hand out, palm upward. “Your gun,” he added when Joe said nothing. “Give me your gun. It’s clear you weren’t as ready as we thought you were.”

Joe took a step backward. “I am ready, Adam,” he challenged. “Or at least I’m trying to be ready. I can’t get any good if I don’t practice.”

“You’re supposed to practice at home, under supervision.”

“How?” Joe shouted. “Standing still and aiming at something that’s just as still?”

“Oh?” Adam’s eyebrow’s shot upward. “You mean you want a moving target like that stump?”

“Yes! I mean…. No! Not like….” After filling his own chest with hot air, Joe let his shoulders slump. “I’m the one doin’ the moving.”

“Why? To make it harder for the stump?”

Joe took another breath as he tried to ignore the insult. “It’s not just about hitting a target, Adam. It’s about hitting a target when I don’t have time to aim…when I don’t have time to think about taking aim. I want to make sure I can be ready if I ever have to be. I want to be able to handle a gun quick as I need to, without hesitating. Like Pa.”

“When Pa draws his gun, he doesn’t play games.”

“Neither do I!”

“Is that right? Then what do you call that fancy trick you were doing?”

“What trick?”

Adam’s jaw tightened. “Twirling a loaded gun around your finger!”

“It’s not a trick!”

“Of course, it’s a trick! It’s what gunmen do to dazzle audiences. And, by God, I will not stand here and watch you turn yourself into a gunman!”

“I’m not! That’s not what it’s about, Adam!”

“What else could it possibly be about? Dazzling the boys in town? Or is it the ladies you prefer to dazzle?” Adam shook his head, disappointment evident in the turn of his lips and the heavy sigh that passed between them. “Don’t you realize all you’ll do is draw the attention of men who’ll want to prove they’re quicker than you? Men who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you down to prove it?”

Joe hated to see his brother’s disappointment. But even worse, he hated feeling as though he’d let his brother down when he knew it wasn’t wrong for him to be doing what he’d been doing. “It’s not like that. I don’t care about dazzling anyone. It’s about….” How could he get Adam to believe him? “It’s about balance. If I have to draw fast, if the speed and accuracy of my shot is my only hope of stopping someone else from shooting first, I can’t afford to be off balance.”

“Joe, the only place you’ll encounter something like that is in the streets of Virginia City if someone calls you out.”

“No, that’s not true.”

“And the only reason anyone would have to do that,” Adam went on, as though Joe hadn’t spoken, “would be if you were showing off.”

“It’s already happened, Adam!” Joe shouted.

Adam paled. “What?” he asked, suddenly breathless. “When? How? My God, Joe. Did you–”

“You saw it yourself last year at Mister Ferguson’s cabin!”

Adam’s brows drew down, puzzled.

“Carver…I mean Fisher…. He was going to shoot me, Adam. He went for his gun, but Pa was faster. He would have shot me if Pa’s balance was off. Pa didn’t have time to take aim. He just drew his gun and took a shot. And he hit him, Adam. Pa hit him. I can’t even hit a doggone tree stump when I try to draw fast like that!”

Adam closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before shaking his head slowly. “Pa’s got a good number of years on you, Joe. He’s handled a gun often enough to–”

“What if something happens a month from now, or even a year from now? What if I don’t have time like Pa’s had? What if–”

“Didn’t Pa tell you a man could drown in a sea of what-ifs? Joe, you can’t–”

“I’m not looking backward, Adam. I’m looking forward. I have to ask what-ifs like this.”

“Why, Joe? Why are you still so afraid? I thought you came to accept that the likelihood of someone else coming after you the way Daniel Fisher did is–”

“Not me, Adam. It’s not me I’m worried about.”

Joe’s brother gave him another puzzled look.

“I want to be able to protect my family…like Pa protected me.”

“Joe….” Adam pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. “I think we’re all quite capable of–”

“What if your back’s turned? What if you’re already hurt? What if–”

“Stop it, Joe! You will drown if you keep thinking that way!”

“I won’t drown if I’m confident…I-if I know I can do what I need to. E-even if I don’t ever have to. If someone’s life depends on my aim being true…. Adam, I just…I couldn’t bear to miss because I was clumsy. If I keep practicing that…that fancy twirling, I’ll know how to keep my balance true. I’ll be able to settle the grip in my palm just right, no matter what. Then I won’t ever draw clumsy, and I won’t keep hitting the ground instead of the stump.”

Adam gave his head a slow shake and blew out a long breath. “Okay. All right. I won’t fight you on the…twirling. You’ve got yourself too convinced to listen to me, anyway. But, Joe, that’s an awfully dangerous thing to do with a loaded gun.”

“Oh, no. No, it’s not. Not anymore. I’ve been doin’ it long enough to….” Joe stopped himself, realizing his error. “I, uh, I mean, I practiced with it unloaded lots of times before coming out here to try shooting that way.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve only had that gun for a week.”

“Well, yeah. I’ve been practicing with it all week. And I’ve–”

“You’ve been practicing with your gun for a week?”

Joe flashed his brother a nervous grin. “Yeah. A week.”

“Whose gun did you practice with before?”

How could Joe answer without getting in more trouble? He gave his brother a sick look and a small shrug.

“So that’s why you were so eager to clean our guns for us all these months, isn’t it?”

“They…they weren’t loaded. It didn’t harm anything.”

“You do know if Pa had caught you–”

“I know! Oh, believe me, I know. Th…that’s why I made sure no one was around to see me.”

“Uh huh.” Adam stared at him with narrowed eyes. “And that’s why you volunteered to fix the fence line way out here.”

Joe rubbed a hand through his hair, shrugged and then, holding his hand at the back of his neck, finally nodded.

“And here I thought you were starting to be more responsible.”

“I was! I am! I’ve been workin’ hard as anyone; and I’m–”

“Yes,” Adam cut in. “You have. And not just since you got that gun, either.”

Grown wide-eyed at the unexpected–and maybe even unintended–compliment, Joe stared at his brother, unsure what to say.

Even more surprising, Adam raised an eyebrow almost conspiratorially. “Don’t let that go to your head.” An instant later, his brows curled downward and he looked off into the distance.

Several uncomfortably quiet moments passed before Joe decided to risk interrupting his older brother’s deep thoughts. “Adam?”

Hearing his name called, Adam filled his chest and turned back to Joe. His eyes had a softer look at that moment. He even gave Joe a small smile. “Pa was pretty impressive that day, wasn’t he?”

Joe’s eyes widened once more. He quickly nodded in reply.

“I don’t think I could have made that shot.”

“You?” Joe’s voice rose a notch too high, a clear sign of either his youth or his shock, or maybe a bit of both. “Sure, you could have!” he added, hoping to compensate. “I’ve never seen you miss, Adam! You wouldn’t have any trouble hitting that old stump.” He gestured toward the target that had confounded him so far.

Digging his hands into the back of his belt, Adam cocked his head. “Oh, sure I wouldn’t,” he said confidently. “Standing still and waiting until I had my aim just right, then sure, I’d hit it just fine.” He paused to meet Joe’s eye. “But in the blink of an eye like Pa did? Just drawing and firing? Now that, little brother, is a whole different story.”

“Ha-have you ever tried?”

“Maybe. A time or two.”

“Maybe?”

“A time or two.” Adam grinned.

“How ‘bout trying now?” Joe asked tentatively.

One brow climbed upward again. “That wouldn’t be particularly responsible of me, now would it?”

“Why not?”

“After barreling in here the way I did, scolding my baby brother for playing with guns, I assure you, Little Joe, it would most definitely be irresponsible of me to start playing the same game.”

“But I told you, Adam! I wasn’t playing! And it…it’s not a game.”

Adam’s grin deepened. “The way you told it, no, I don’t suppose it is.” Then, suddenly, the grin vanished. “But I’m warning you, Joe.” His finger pointed hard into Joe’s chest once more, and his eyes blazed. “Don’t you ever show off. To anyone. For any reason. Got it?”

Gulping down a sudden onslaught of anxiety, Joe nodded as hard and as fast as he could. “I…I got it.”

“Promise me, Joe.”

“I promise, Adam. I’ll never show off. It’s not about showing off, anyway. I already told you. It’s about–”

“Yes.” Adam pulled away. “I know. It’s about protecting your family. Trouble is, I can’t say as I like the idea of my little brother having to protect me.”

“But if your back was turned? Or…or you were already hurt?”

“Or you were faster on the draw than I was?”

Joe was sure his eyes couldn’t go any wider. Was Adam jealous? “M-me? Faster than you?”

Adam curled his lip. “Nah. You’re right. What was I thinking? You could never outdraw me.”

“Sure I could! I just need to practice some.”

Cocking his head sideways, Adam nodded. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to practice, too.”

“Y-you?”

“Now what was it you were doing, Joe?” Adam asked, crossing his arms against his chest. “Why don’t you show me?”

“Y-you want me to show you?”

“Yes, Little Joe. Show me.”

Still, Joe waited another moment, trying to look deep into his brother’s eyes to find the reason for his apparent change of heart. When he decided it was worth whatever risk he was taking, Joe reached for his gun.

But a hand shot outward a moment later. “Wait. Make sure it’s not loaded, first.”

“It’s not. I fired all six shots. It’s empty.”

“It doesn’t hurt to check, now, does it?”

Shrugging, Joe clicked open the cylinder and spun it, making sure Adam could see that all six chambers were empty.

Adam nodded. “All right. Now slip it back into your holster.”

Joe did as he was told, eying his brother the entire time.

“You know, Joe. I think you ought to turn around and give that look to the stump out there. I wouldn’t trust it, if I were you. It might draw down on you before you can even–”

Not waiting for his brother to finish speaking, Joe swiveled around, effortlessly slipping his gun free and then clicking the empty chamber at precisely the right moment. “Hey!” he cried out enthusiastically. “I did it! I mean, I would have done it. If my gun would have been loaded, I would’ve hit the knot!” He flashed Adam a proud grin.

But Adam curled his lip again. “The stump, maybe. But the knot? Not a chance.”

“Oh, yeah?” Angered by his brother’s disbelief, Joe reached in his pocket for his extra bullets. “I’ll prove it!”

“Not that way, you won’t. First, you’re going to show me that move again. And then I’m going to show you what you did wrong. And then, maybe, after about another week or two of showing each other how it’s done, then, maybe, just maybe I’ll decide it’s safe enough to try with real bullets.”

“Y-you’re gonna practice with me?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“And you’ll show me what I’m doing wrong?”

Adam nodded. “Yep.”

“You’ll help me to get good? I mean, really, really good?”

Adam cocked his head. “Only if you listen. I mean really, really listen.”

And suddenly Joe was grinning like it was his birthday all over again. And from that moment on, he couldn’t even remember whose face he’d been seeing in that old stump. All he saw was a knot….

…That is, until three weeks later, when he and Adam shot the stump so full of bullets there wasn’t anything left of the knot at all.

XxXxX

~end~

 

Tags:  Angst, Ben Cartwright, detective Adam, Family, HAM, Hoss Cartwright, JAM, Joe / Little Joe Cartwright, JPM, Roy Coffee, SAS, SHS, SJS