XxXxX

2

“Joe!”

“Little Joe!”

The voices of his pa and brothers echoed around him, pulling Joe from the numbing fog.

“Joe!”

His back hurt. His legs…his arm…his head. Something sharp was digging into his cheek.

“Little Joe!”

Where was he? Broken thoughts confused him: a bawling calf…a prowling puma…a little girl….

“My name’s Mary,” she’d hollered down at him. “What’s yours?”

“Joe,” he’d shouted back. “Little Joe.”

“Little? You’re not little. I’m little.”

“Little Joe!”

Hoss? That was Hoss calling out to him, not Mary. Joe’s big ol’ bear of a brother, Hoss….

“If you’re so anxious to go ridin’ today, little brother, how ‘bout you round up them strays? I’ll finish up this fence.”

Joe had happily accepted his big brother’s offer. All that work toting posts and boards had left him feeling hot and stiff…and ornery. A good, hard ride with Cochise was about the best thing he could think to do. Rounding up a few strays along the way wasn’t so bad; it would give him some freedom and allow him to do his share of work to boot.

But it hadn’t been a bawling calf he’d heard, had it? No. It had been a lost, little girl. And by the time Joe had found her crying in the shade of a boulder up at the pass, a puma had found her, too.

“Joe!” Adam?

Joe had told little Mary not to worry. Joe’s oldest brother, Adam, was real smart. Adam would know just what to do. He would find a way to get Joe out of that ravine.

The ravine…. Joe started to relive how he’d come to be there…how he’d shot the puma, and how Mary had run toward him, wrapping her arms around his legs. There’d been an instant of inattention when he’d turned his focus to the child; that had been all the puma had needed to rise unnoticed. Joe had  caught a glimpse of movement…just a glimpse, so little warning. He’d barely managed to push Mary out of harm’s way before the puma had launched itself into the air toward him.

Joe once more felt the puma hitting his shoulder with its claws extended…knocking him backward until the earth fell away…raking its claws down his arm before it tumbled away from him…and then tumbling himself against the unforgiving rocks.

“Little Joe!”

Pa? Pa, help me! I can’t…can’t climb back up.

“Joe!”

It hurts, Pa. Everything…everything hurts. I can’t hardly move anymore. Can’t….

“Little Joe!”

His family had come looking for him just as Joe had told Mary they would. Or maybe…maybe they came because he’d sent Mary for help.

No. That wasn’t quite right. Not completely. He’d sent her home with Cochise to make sure she was safe…because Joe couldn’t protect her anymore. He’d fallen too far; and when he’d tried to climb back up, the rocky wall had loosened…crumbled…sending him down even further than before and twisting his already injured knee. His arm had grown useless as much from the puma’s claws as from his falls. And his head…. It had been getting harder and harder to think…to talk…to listen.

Yes. He’d sent her away.

“Joe! Little Joe!”

They were getting closer. Joe wasn’t sure he dared believe it. He’d waited so long….

Before he’d sent Mary away, he’d watched the sun sink lower and lower until the trees had blocked most of its light. He’d spent the time helping Mary to forget she was lost and alone by telling her about his family and asking about hers. And he’d waited. Surely her family was already looking for her, and Joe’s would begin looking for him before too much longer. Someone would come along sooner or later. Trouble was, it kept getting later and later. And when Joe had started losing moments, slipping further from conscious thought, he’d known the wait had to come to an end—at least for Mary. He’d had to do something to help her, to prevent her from wandering off when he couldn’t talk anymore…when she found herself truly alone again. But trapped as he was, hurt as he was, the only thing he could think to do was to send her home with Cochise.

He could trust Cochise to ferry her home. And his family…. He could trust his family to take care of her. He could trust his family to find hers.

“I have a little brother now,” she’d told him.

Joe had found himself smiling. He knew all about being a little brother. “He’s lucky to have a big sister like you.”

“Why?”

“I’ll bet you take good care of him, just like…my big brothers took care of me…when I was little.”

“Naw. That’s what my momma and papa do. That’s all they do anymore, is take care of him. I just get in the way.”

“That’ll change. Before you know it…it’ll change.”

“How?”

“He’ll grow up…start gettin’ into all kinds of trouble…just like I did.”

“You got in trouble?”

“Sure did. But my brothers…they looked out for me…stopped me from gettin’ into worse trouble.”

“Is that what I’m supposed to do? Stop my little brother from gettin’ into trouble?”

“Sometimes. And sometimes…you won’t be able to stop it from happenin.’ But then you’ll do what you can…to help him get out of trouble.” Like today, Joe thought.

“Little Joe!”

His brothers were looking out for him. Or…looking for him.

“Joe!”

My family’s looking for me, just like yours, Mary. Only…Mary wasn’t there anymore, was she? No. Joe had sent her away.

“Joe!”

Adam? I’m here, Adam! I’m…here…. But Joe couldn’t answer, not really. Not out loud, anyway. His throat was too dry and he just couldn’t draw in enough air to allow for anything more than a groan.

“Joe!”

“Here,” he cried softly—too softly for anyone to notice. I’m here.

XxXxX

Hoss’d had a general idea where his little brother had been headed when he’d run off after strays; and it wasn’t hard to follow Cochise’s tracks to the rocky mountainside where missing animals—or lost little girls—could easily hide. Before too long they’d even managed to find the spot where Mary’s story had surely unfolded. A child’s prints and those from a man’s boots had made distinctive marks in the sparse sand; and a blood trail—the puma’s, most likely—led from a small, rocky ledge overlooking the path to the top edge of a ravine.

Unfortunately, the ravine itself was not as willing to give up its secrets. It was too deep for the dim glow of the growing night to reach. And no matter how many times the elder Cartwrights shouted out, they never heard anything back from the youngest brother.

“Joseph! Can you hear me, boy? Answer me!” Ben hollered as loud as he could, and then raised a hand to silence his two oldest sons.

As each time before, no reply came.

“We’ll never find him this way,” Adam said, his tone both frustrated and determined. He started to pull a coil of rope from his saddle. “I’m going down there. It’s a fair guess Joe could be hidden by that outcropping on the—”

“Hey!” Hoss tapped Adam’s arm with the back of his hand. He wasn’t looking at his older brother; he was looking into the ravine. “Down there!” He pointed.

“Do you see Joe?” Ben asked hopefully.

Hoss shook his head, his brow furrowed in concentration. “The cat, I reckon. It’s too dark to see clear enough, but it’s too small to be Little Joe.”

Adam sighed. “The angle’s right.” He tapped his brother’s arm right back. “Help me with this rope, and then lower me down there. If we wait any longer, we’ll have to hold off until dawn, dark as it is already.”

“No,” Ben said, his eyes focused on the shadowy form Hoss had pointed out. “We can’t hold off.” He left the rest of his words unspoken. Surely Adam and Hoss knew what he was thinking. They might not have until dawn. Joe might not have that long.

XxXxX

“I see him!” Adam hollered. Joe was sitting on a narrow ledge, leaning against the rocky wall of the cliff face. He wasn’t moving. And Adam was too far away. Dammit! “I can’t reach him!”

He wasted time scrambling up to reposition himself and then hurrying back down again, but it couldn’t be helped. By the time he was close enough, it was full night.

At least he’d found Little Joe. That had to count for something. It had to.

“Joe?” He touched Joe’s arm…his shoulder…his head, needing to find out how badly his little brother was injured and cursing the loss of the sun. “Come on, Joe. Let me know you can hear me.” Joe’s left sleeve had been shredded by the puma’s claws; the warm, wet stickiness beneath made it pretty clear the boy’s arm was similarly damaged. But…thank God…Adam felt heat emanating from the wound. It was a worrying sign of infection, certainly—but it also meant Little Joe was still alive.

“Adam?” Pa hollered down.

“I’ve got him!” Adam answered. What more should he say? What else could he say? “It’s all right, Joe,” he added quietly—more for himself than for his all too quiet brother. Then he swallowed hard as his hand brushed across more blood in the boy’s hair. “We’ll have you home before you know it.”

There was nothing he could do for Little Joe’s injuries there on the ledge and in such darkness, so Adam focused on securing his brother with a second rope. He was both thankful and disturbed that his efforts got through to Little Joe as no amount of shouting or talking had. Joe shifted, trying to pull away, and let out a soft, agonized groan.

“Sorry, Joe. I know it hurts, but I have to get you out of here.”

Joe groaned again, louder than before.

“Just hang in there a little longer, buddy.”

A hand shot upward, grabbing hold of Adam’s shirt. “Adam?” Joe’s eyes were open. Adam couldn’t see them clearly, just the faintest moist reflection from the rising moon. He couldn’t tell how focused they were. But they were open.

“Ready to go home?” Adam gave his brother a small smile, although he doubted Joe could see it any better than Adam could see Joe’s eyes.

“Mary?” Joe asked through panting breaths.

“Hop Sing’s taking care of her.”

Joe’s grip loosened…fell away. “I was…worried. Didn’t…shouldn’t have sent her.”

“You didn’t have much choice.” Adam tightened a knot, eliciting another groan from Joe. “Sorry.”

“I tried.” Joe took small, gasping breaths. “Kept falling. Couldn’t…get back up.”

“Yeah.” Adam shuddered inwardly, imagining the pain those attempts must have caused. “Well, this time you just leave it to us, all right?”

“Thanks.” Adam heard relief in his brother’s tone. “I told her…told her you’d know what to do.”

“Little Joe said Adam was real smart but you don’t sound too smart to me.” Adam smiled again, remembering the little girl’s words. “I’m glad I didn’t let you down.” Giving the ropes one final check, Adam squeezed Joe’s good shoulder. “Ready?”

“Adam?” Joe took hold of Adam’s shirt again, though his grip was weaker than before. “You need…need to talk to her.”

“Mary?”

“Tell her…what it’s like to be…oldest.”

“What’s that got to do—”

“That’s why…why she…ran away. She’s got a…a little brother now. I told her…she’s got to…keep him…out of trouble.”

“That’s a pretty tall order, don’t you think?”

“She can do it.” Joe sounded confident. “Just like you.”

“If I could keep you out of trouble, little brother, you wouldn’t be in this mess, now would you?”

“It’s the cat’s fault…. But…you…you’re here now.”

“Hey, Adam?” Hoss called down then.

“We’re ready!” he hollered back. “I’m sorry, Joe,” he added more softly. “This is gonna hurt; but I promise I’ll do everything I can to shield you from the worst of it.”

“Just like always.”

Yeah, little brother. Just like always. A pretty tall order, indeed….

 

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