Summary: A man of God who lacks true faith heads into the desert on a quest for miracles — catching the Cartwright brothers in his flawed pilgrimage.<\/p>\n
Word count: 22,000. Rating: T.<\/p>\n
A story of faith, free will and divine intervention.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Devil\u2019s Dust<\/strong><\/p>\n XxXxX<\/strong><\/p>\n Prologue<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n I was face down in the dust. Seemed like \u2026 like waves of moonshine \u2026 heat shimmerin\u2019\u2026. Haze a\u2019lunacy, I reckon, swirlin\u2019 all around me. It churned up a darkness, the kind that seeps into men\u2019s souls. Danged if it didn\u2019t seep into me. Can\u2019t say how I\u2019d a\u2019done it otherwise. Swallowed me a belly full\u2026a\u2026whole belly full of dark, mangy, devil\u2019s dust.<\/p>\n Did ya\u2019 ever feel your tongue grow thick? So thick on sand you was ready to chew it right off to get it outta the way \u2026 and maybe have a \u2026 a minute\u2019s worth a\u2019glory to let all that wet blood coat the desert in your throat? Head goes dusty, too.<\/p>\n Yeah, well\u2026that\u2019s what\u2026.<\/p>\n Yeah. Devil was in me, true enough. And then those men come. Three men and three horses. And words…. Words<\/em>? Voices, more like. In my head, wasn\u2019t words at all. Just \u2026 banshees, maybe. Caterwauls that sparked up all that moonshine \u2026 all that devil\u2019s dust \u2026 like \u2026 like cannon shot.<\/p>\n One of \u2018em\u2026. One of \u2018em touched me. Rolled me over.<\/p>\n I was better bein\u2019 face down. Face up had me starin\u2019 right into Hellfire and damnation. Bright white. Like the whole world exploded.<\/p>\n The sun, I reckon. But then \u2026 out there \u2026 my head all dusty \u2026 didn\u2019t know no better. Didn\u2019t know nothin\u2019 at all. Not \u2026 not nothin\u2019.<\/p>\n Can\u2019t even say when the dust blew away \u2026 or the thunder died. All\u2019s I know is \u2026 I was on my knees. Had a gun in my hand … pearl handle \u2026 barrel hot as that Hellfire desert \u2026 smell of brimstone. And that man \u2026 the one who brought all that Hellfire sun down on top of me \u2026 he was lyin\u2019 face up \u2026 lookin\u2019 at me. His eyes\u2026. They were storm-cloud green, the kind\u2019a green that makes your hair stand up \u2026 sparks fly \u2026 lightnin\u2019 quick.<\/p>\n But blood was quicker. That storm-cloud fella\u2019s blood was pumpin\u2019 out in barrels. And there weren\u2019t nothin\u2019 in his holster. What should\u2019a been there was in my hand instead. Was a \u2026 a left-handed holster. Reckon it was just natural for me to take hold\u2019a that pistol soon\u2019s my fingers brushed up against it \u2026 right when \u2026 when he turned me like he done.<\/p>\n I shot him with his own gun. Dang near stole his lightnin\u2019. Took away any chance he might\u2019ve had to strike me back.<\/p>\n But the banshees could.<\/p>\n Them two fellas what rode with him \u2026 one with a barrel chest and the other wearin\u2019 reaper black \u2026 they come shoutin\u2019 out all that banshee noise I couldn\u2019t make no sense of. Maybe they couldn\u2019t make no sense of me, neither. I reckon that\u2019s why I ain\u2019t dead now.<\/p>\n Way I see it, there was somethin\u2019 a whole lot stronger than the devil out there with us that day \u2026 somethin\u2019 that kept the lightnin\u2019 sparkin\u2019 in those stormy green eyes of that fella I shot \u2026 somethin\u2019\u2026 that kept them barrels of blood of his from seepin\u2019 all the way back into all that devil\u2019s dust.<\/p>\n I shot him. Law said so and I ain\u2019t never bothered to argue. But I know better. I reckon that reaper banshee knew it, too. And that barrel one.<\/p>\n It was the devil that pulled the trigger. Trouble was, the devil that done it was wearin\u2019 my hand.<\/p>\n I hear tell they was brothers. All three of \u2018em.<\/p>\n If I saw a man shoot my brother, \u2018specially close at hand like that \u2026 well, I reckon I\u2019d be the reaper, then. That man would die out there in all that devil\u2019s dust. I\u2019d see to it \u2026 even knowin\u2019 I\u2019d have a reaper comin\u2019 for me next, I\u2019d still see to it.<\/p>\n But them two \u2026 that reaper and that barrel fella\u2026 they didn\u2019t see to it. Maybe they could tell I was already dead \u2026 tongue swellin\u2019\u2026 eyes sparkin\u2019 Hellfire and clouded dark with devil\u2019s dust.<\/p>\n Fact is, I don\u2019t know why I ain\u2019t. Dead, I mean. All\u2019s I know is I opened my eyes some time later and found myself swallowed up in cinder block walls and iron bars \u2026 locked up tight, clear away from all that Hellfire.<\/p>\n Different cinder block walls now. And different bars. The musty smells are strong \u2026 putrefied, but not with death \u2026 more from the stench of urine and old tobacco. And that window up yonder is streamin\u2019 in a sun that falls more like Holy light than Hellfire.<\/p>\n Yessir. I ain\u2019t dead. Might even say I\u2019m more alive now I know what Hellfire\u2019s like. I left that devil out there in that desert \u2026 left him behind with all that dust and moonshine haze. Ain\u2019t even got no use for fists no more \u2026 not for grabbin\u2019 hold of pearl handled pistols or devil\u2019s dust or \u2026 anythin\u2019 else. No. My hands are too busy \u2026 stayin\u2019 wrapped around this here Bible.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n 1<\/strong><\/p>\n They made their move during Hoss\u2019s watch. Four shadows started to glide toward him across the desert like wraiths, leaving their wagon and horses behind them. They looked otherworldly but they weren\u2019t invisible, thanks to the small fire at their backs and a sky filled to the brim with bright stars.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam,\u201d Hoss whispered harshly as he nudged his older brother\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t bother waiting to see if Adam came awake before moving on to Joe. None of them had slept deeply since they\u2019d discovered they were being followed within hours of leaving Carson City on their way to Fort Churchill with a fresh string of horses for the Army. The fact that it was a slow, lumbering wagon doing the following \u2013 accompanied by two equally slow riders — hadn’t raised too much concern at first. But when that wagon held back rather than entering the fort, and then turned to continue dogging the brothers on the return journey, it became clear there was nothing innocent or coincidental about whatever those wagon drivers were doing.<\/p>\n Joe had been anxious to turn around and confront their casual-seeming pursuers head on. Hoss had been of a similar mindset. But Adam had cautioned against it. While that wagon might well hold a barrel or two of water, the Cartwrights had only their canteens. They didn\u2019t have the luxury of playing a desert game of cat and mouse, especially not knowing for certain which of those critters the brothers would end up playing.<\/p>\n Of course, now maybe they did know.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re not even trying to hide,\u201d Joe said, his quiet words making him sound younger than he was — and maybe a bit like the mouse in Hoss\u2019s thoughts.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t like Joe to be sounding like a mouse. It wasn\u2019t like Hoss to feel like one, either; but he was every bit as nervous as his little brother — especially since Joe was right. Those wraiths weren\u2019t hunkered down and skirting around stray bits of scrub brush. Sure, there wasn\u2019t much brush around, and what was there couldn\u2019t provide any real cover, either for the Cartwrights or for those men coming toward them. But walking up tall and straight like they were, it didn\u2019t really look like the Cartwrights\u2019 dogged pursuers were up to no good. If it weren\u2019t the dead of night, Hoss could almost believe those tall, gliding shadows out there were just folks heading out for a neighborly visit.<\/p>\n But it was<\/em> the dead of night. And those folks hadn\u2019t bothered to so much as signal a greeting in all the days they\u2019d been riding in slow pursuit.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s far enough!\u201d Adam hollered out just as soon as those wraiths got close enough to hear him. But if they did hear him, they didn\u2019t pay him any mind. They didn\u2019t even miss a step. \u201cHold right there and state your business!\u201d Adam shouted.<\/p>\n When the shadows still kept coming, Joe knew what to do. \u201cI\u2019d say they need a better warning.\u201d Right on the heels of his words, he let off a shot with his rifle, aiming at the ground.<\/p>\n That got their attention. The figures held still.<\/p>\n \u201cWe don\u2019t mean you any harm,\u201d a man hollered back. \u201cWe just want to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss shared a glance with his brothers. \u201cSomehow I doubt that,\u201d he said to Adam\u2019s calculating gaze and Joe\u2019s suspicious one.<\/p>\n \u201cGo ahead and talk,\u201d Adam yelled.<\/p>\n The figures started moving again. Joe let off another shot.<\/p>\n Adam nodded appreciatively before adding, \u201cAll I said was talk! State your business!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFriend\u2026.\u201d One of the shadows raised empty hands in a supplicating gesture. \u201cI am a man of God. My business is with Him.\u201d The figure pointed to the sky. \u201cIt is He who wants to bring us together.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe raised his eyebrows. Hoss lowered his.<\/p>\n Adam heaved a frustrated sigh. \u201cIn the middle of the night?\u201d he shouted.<\/p>\n The figure lowered his arms. \u201cDon\u2019t reckon the Lord has much concern for clocks.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell we do!\u201d Adam hollered back. \u201cGo back to your camp! We can talk at dawn. We\u2019ll meet you halfway!\u201d<\/p>\n The shadows started moving then, but not forward. No. They were staying put, but jerking about as though\u2026. Well, as though maybe they were arguing quietly with one another.<\/p>\n After a long moment, the apparent leader raised his arm skyward again. \u201cFriend, the Lord does not like to be kept waiting.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe let out a huff. \u201cIt\u2019s more like that fella\u2019s friends ain\u2019t much for waiting.\u201d<\/p>\n “Anxious to get their hands on that Army payment, I reckon,” Hoss said.<\/p>\n “Well, they’ll just have to wait for dawn to try,” Adam answered. “At least then we can see what we’re shooting at.”<\/p>\n “Oh, I can see ’em just fine, older brother.” Joe let off another shot before taking his turn shouting out at the intruders. “The next one draws blood if you don’t start moving back!”<\/p>\n “Then so be it!” The leader spread his arms wide. “In this desert, blood begets miracles!”<\/p>\n “In this desert, mister, you lose blood, you die!”<\/p>\n “As you did not!”<\/p>\n Both of Hoss\u2019s brothers looked pale in that starlight, but it seemed to Hoss that Joe got a mite paler; and his eyes went sort of dull. If Hoss didn’t know any better, he’d think his little brother was coming down with a sickness.<\/p>\n “It’s true,” the fellow out yonder hollered. “Is it not? You survived being gut shot right in this very desert!”<\/p>\n Joe raised his eyes, meeting Hoss’s with a silent plea. Make them stop, brother<\/em>.<\/p>\n “Ain’t none of your business!” Hoss shouted back.<\/p>\n “But it is! It is, sir! My business is with God. And God’s business is miracles. I brought these men here to witness a miracle, to see proof of God!”<\/p>\n “Let ’em through, Adam,” Joe said, sounding like that mouse again. “The sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can get rid of ’em.”<\/p>\n They settled on letting that man of God sit down at their own dying fire, while his men stayed put. Hoss kept an eye — and a gun — on those fellows, while Adam got down to business, keeping an eye on Joe for good measure.<\/p>\n “First of all, Mister–?”<\/p>\n “Reverend,” the stringy white-haired gentleman replied. “Reverend Smith.”<\/p>\n “Of course.” Adam’s lips thinned. “First of all, Reverend Smith, I think we’d all like to know why you think my brother was gut shot.”<\/p>\n The reverend smiled, showing as many shadows as teeth. “A man spoke of a miracle, a single miracle that filled his thoughts day and night, a miracle of which he spoke, day and night, to anyone willing to listen — to the air itself when no human ear was present to hear his story.”<\/p>\n “What story?”<\/p>\n “The story of a man cast adrift by other men, robbed, beaten and abandoned here in this seemingly godforsaken place, a man who had gone as long as he could with neither food, nor shelter, nor water, until succumbing, falling where he stood, and then waiting for God to take him home.”<\/p>\n Hoss cast a glance at his brothers to find Adam tense as that granite-head Joe was always accusing him of being, and Joe…. Well, that mouse in Joe was finding spunk. He was getting angry again, just like he’d done after all those weeks of healing, after all that time spent asking questions only God could ever answer.<\/p>\n “I wanted to help him!” Joe shot up to his feet. “I tried to help him!”<\/p>\n With his little brother suddenly mindless of the threat those men out yonder still might pose, Hoss turned his attention back to the desert and the three shadows waiting there.<\/p>\n “He knows that,” the reverend answered solemnly. “He knows he did wrong. And therein lies the heart of the miracle. God saved him through you. And then God saved you by His own hand.”<\/p>\n “Where did you meet this man?” Adam asked.<\/p>\n There was a long silence, long enough to make Hoss look back for an instant. Then the reverend drew in an even longer breath.<\/p>\n “I won’t lie to you; I made a vow to God to abide by His laws.” The man took another pull of air. “I met that man in prison, as did my three companions. My companions are like sheep. They are my flock, and they’re anxious to see the work of a God their lives to this point have kept hidden from them.”<\/p>\n “And you’re just the man to show them,” Adam said. “Is that it?”<\/p>\n “Yes.”<\/p>\n “Why?”<\/p>\n “Because I have always known God. I have known Him and served Him all the days of my life, from the moment my mother weaned me and my father saw to it to beat the fear of God into my very bones.”<\/p>\n “And yet,” Adam said after another silence, “you ended up in prison.”<\/p>\n “The Lord, our God, has seen to it to fill my life with trials. And now He has seen to it to show me His work. He has led me to you.”<\/p>\n “Who? God? Or the ravings of a madman who tried to murder my brother?”<\/p>\n “Is it not true that madmen are often thought to be touched by the Hand of God?”<\/p>\n “I’m sure that man was touched, all right. But his facts when it comes to my brother aren’t as accurate as I would expect them to be if God were behind the story.”<\/p>\n “How so?”<\/p>\n “Joe was not gut shot.”<\/p>\n “Oh? Then where did the bullet take him?”<\/p>\n “I’m right here!” Joe shouted loud enough to make Hoss jump and set the men he was watching to start moving about. “Why don’t you ask me?”<\/p>\n “Very well. I’m asking. Where did the bullet take you?”<\/p>\n Joe didn’t answer right away. And then when he did answer, he got quiet again. “It doesn’t matter.”<\/p>\n “I disagree. It does matter. It matters very much.”<\/p>\n “Why?”<\/p>\n “Because either your survival was a miracle or it was not.”<\/p>\n “It was,” Adam said softly a moment later. “It was a miracle.”<\/p>\n When Hoss glanced back again, he saw that his brothers were looking hard and long at one another, as though that strange reverend wasn’t even there.<\/p>\n “The bullet caught him in the abdomen,” Adam went on saying. “It passed right through, hitting nothing but flesh and muscle along the way.”<\/p>\n “He was burned, too,” Hoss added. “That madman of yours put the barrel of that gun right up against Joe’s stomach when he pulled that trigger.”<\/p>\n “A miracle, indeed.” The reverend sounded awed, maybe even as awed as Adam and Hoss had been after Joe survived both the ride back to Carson City and the doctor’s handiwork.<\/p>\n “There,” Hoss said. “You found your miracle. Now why don’t you get on out of here and leave us to our peace?”<\/p>\n \u201cWhy are you so eager to ignore that you have been blessed with divine intervention?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLook, mister\u2026.\u201d Hoss turned from his self-appointed post. \u201cWe don\u2019t ignore it. We thank God darn near every day. But we do it in private. It ain\u2019t your business or anyone else\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re wrong. It is the business of all God\u2019s children to learn about His wondrous works.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAll they have to do is read the Bible or listen to a preacher\u2019s sermon.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s well and good, but living proof is another matter altogether.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat you call proof,\u201d Adam said, \u201cothers call luck.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy, you yourself called it a miracle.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFaith, reverend, that\u2019s what you\u2019re failing to consider. Faith was all the proof I needed. It was all any of us needed; yet it\u2019s what everyone else seems so eager to ignore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEveryone else?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss took up the answer to that one. \u201cWe had all kinds of folks like you prowlin\u2019 around after it happened, all on account of a newspaper story. We didn\u2019t get a moment\u2019s peace until they hauled that fella off to prison. Even then, it took a few months before folks finally let Joe be.\u201d<\/p>\n The sound of a horse nickering drew Hoss\u2019s attention to where their own horses were tethered. He couldn\u2019t see what was bothering them, but he did see something that started to bother him<\/em>. Joe was gone.<\/p>\n Doggone it. Here they were talking about him again rather than getting him to talk himself, just like they\u2019d done all those months ago.<\/p>\n \u201cExcuse me,\u201d Hoss said distractedly — after he\u2019d already started heading toward the horses to find his young brother.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n \u201cDevil\u2019s dust,\u201d Joe said as soon as Hoss got close enough. He was standing head-to-head with Cochise and petting the animal\u2019s muzzle.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s what he blamed it on.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d Hoss stepped up to give his own horse some attention. \u201cI remember.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI just want to forget, Hoss. Why won\u2019t anyone let me forget?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI reckon it\u2019s like that man said. People want to see proof that God\u2019s out there, that He cares enough to help folks when bad things happen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d rather if He would just stop bad things from happening.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI reckon everyone would like to see that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEspecially when bad things happen for no good reason.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. I \u2026 I reckon especially then.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI was worried about him, Hoss, worried about a man I didn\u2019t even know, a stranger, just because he was lying face down in the middle of the desert.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe were all worried. You did the right thing, Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI did the right thing.\u201d Joe chuckled, but there wasn\u2019t anything funny about the sound of it. \u201cThen I got shot for no good reason. I made it easy for him, too. Might as well have handed him my gun and told him to do it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou did the right thing and he didn\u2019t. It\u2019s as simple as that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs it? Is it really that simple? He said the devil pulled the trigger. I never saw a devil. I just saw a man. A man who never accepted that he was the one who did it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat was easier, I reckon. Easier to blame the devil than to admit he could do something as bad as that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you believe in the devil, Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI reckon \u2026 reckon I do. I reckon anyone who believes in God ought to also believe in the devil.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy does there have to be a devil at all? Why can\u2019t it just be God?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou know I can\u2019t answer that, Joe. But there is a devil, and there is a God. And it\u2019s up to us to stay on the right side of things.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOn God\u2019s side.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYep.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLike that man of God back there talkin\u2019 to Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss held quiet, not knowing quite how to answer.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you believe him? That he\u2019s a man of God?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI reckon he thinks that\u2019s what he is. But\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I also reckon he\u2019s so all fired up about finding proof, that has to mean he ain\u2019t near as God-fearin\u2019 as he thinks he is.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGod-fearing\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss waited for him to say more; but Joe just looked up at the stars.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t, Hoss,\u201d Joe said after a moment.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t fear God. I fear the devil and \u2026 maybe even God-fearing men.\u201d Joe chuckled again, and Hoss was glad to hear it sounded more like he meant it this time. \u201cBut \u2026 I don\u2019t fear God.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI reckon that\u2019s a good thing. I reckon maybe you shouldn\u2019t ought to fear God. I reckon maybe I don\u2019t, either.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI reckon maybe<\/em> that\u2019s where Reverend Smith back there went wrong.\u201d Smiling now, Joe cocked his head back toward their campfire.<\/p>\n \u201cI reckon maybe you\u2019re right, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCome on.\u201d Joe stepped forward and put his hand on Hoss\u2019s shoulder. \u201cI reckon maybe we ought to rescue brother Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss winked and wrapped his arm around his little brother. \u201cI reckon maybe you\u2019re right about that, too.\u201d<\/p>\n It felt good to walk companionably with Little Joe like that, especially after facing so many devils of his own since that reverend had forced him to remember things he\u2019d rather forget, just like Joe \u2026 to remember the way his blood froze out there in that hot desert nigh on a year ago, right when he heard that gun go off \u2026 and the way Joe looked afterward, his eyes going wide, his own blood spilling out into the hand he held at his belly, a puddle forming on the sand at his back\u2026. Hoss knew his brother was going to die that day. He knew it, right down deep into his own belly. But Joe didn\u2019t die. God didn\u2019t take him. And that was all the proof Hoss could ever need about miracles.<\/p>\n It sure would have been better if that reverend saw it the same way. But once Hoss and Joe got back to the campfire, those other three men were coming up to join them. That wasn\u2019t much of a surprise, seeing as how Hoss had stopped holding them off with that rifle. Trouble was, they were even more dead-set on seeing proof than the reverend. And the reverend figured on using Joe to show them.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n 2<\/strong><\/p>\n \u201cI never believed it no-how.\u201d The man who spoke had a hard look to his eyes, and his nose was set askew, clearly having been broken at some point, maybe even more than once. \u201cJust another tall tale.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam didn\u2019t really care whether that man believed the story of Joe\u2019s miraculous survival. What he did care about was that the man clearly did not fit in with the sheep of the reverend\u2019s claims. Of the three who had followed Reverend Smith into the desert, this one stood out. He was not the type to follow anyone anywhere.<\/p>\n \u201cThen why are you here?\u201d Adam asked.<\/p>\n The skew-nosed stranger turned his hard eyes on Adam. \u201cHad nothin\u2019 else to do.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam hoped his own eyes looked as dark. \u201cYou couldn\u2019t think of anything better than to follow a fool\u2019s quest into the middle of the desert?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGentlemen, please!\u201d the reverend intervened. \u201cWe are here to find signs of God, not to conjure up devil\u2019s work. Mister Maltby here simply asked to see proof of your brother\u2019s injuries. Surely there are scars, are there not?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou leave Little Joe out of this,\u201d Hoss warned before Adam could unlock his jaw enough to say the same.<\/p>\n The reverend smiled, but there was nothing pleasant in his eyes. \u201cLittle Joe, is it? Yes, well, he is right in the middle of all this, I\u2019m afraid. Leaving him out is simply\u2026.\u201d He shrugged. \u201cOut of the question.\u201d<\/p>\n While Adam eyed the rifle set three steps out of reach, Hoss eased his way in front of Joe. In a rare show of sensibility, the youngest Cartwright did not object to being shielded.<\/p>\n Adam took one slow step. \u201cWe\u2019ve been through this already.\u201d He took another step. \u201cYou\u2019d better start looking elsewhere for whatever miracles you\u2019re after.\u201d Finally, that one, last step\u2026. \u201cNow, I\u2019m only going to say this once.\u201d He grabbed the rifle. \u201cGet out of here.\u201d He cocked it and aimed for the reverend\u2019s forehead. \u201cNow.\u201d<\/p>\n The reverend laughed. Snickers behind him proved that the reverend\u2019s two young sheep were also finding something humorous in Adam\u2019s actions. Only the stone-eyed Mister Maltby kept his composure.<\/p>\n \u201cYou seem to forget,\u201d Maltby said. \u201cYou\u2019re dealing with ex-convicts. Runt over there has already seen to it to empty that rifle. Don\u2019t count on the others bein\u2019 much use, either. We\u2019re all handy in our own way.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s get down to business.\u201d Reverend Smith moved forward.<\/p>\n Adam decided that was the perfect opportunity to test Maltby\u2019s threat. He pulled the trigger.<\/p>\n \u201cShall we?\u201d the reverend said, his smile growing.<\/p>\n Throwing the useless weapon aside, Adam braced himself and considered the odds. There were four of them, one of whom was older than his father. Three young Cartwrights should be more than enough to hold them off, and Hoss could almost count for two, himself.<\/p>\n \u201cNo one is laying a hand on our brother,\u201d Adam warned.<\/p>\n \u201cIt would be far easier if your Little Joe<\/em> would simply reveal his scars as evidence. But\u2026.\u201d He gave a loud sniff. \u201cIf you continue to resist this very reasonable request, I assure you there will indeed be a laying on of hands.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought you were a man of God,\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n The reverend nodded. \u201cAnd sometimes, I am his soldier.\u201d<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n The clatter of wagon wheels \u2026 squeak of dusty springs \u2026 plodding hoof beats and bluster of horses\u2026. The smell of a sunbaked tarp \u2026 musty \u2026 old\u2026. A sneeze threatened, but from a distance … a distance bridged by the wooden planks beneath him. Adam bounced along with those planks and rocked with every squeak of those dusty springs. And tried to make sense of where he was. And why.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice was soft but desperate. \u201cAdam!\u201d<\/p>\n Confused and curious, he forced his heavy lids open and scanned the dust-coated canvas overhead until he met his brother\u2019s water-blue gaze beside him.<\/p>\n \u201cDoggone it, Adam! You about scared the life outta me!\u201d<\/p>\n He tried to rise, but the rocking motion of the wagon seemed intent on turning him upside down. And his head \u2026 it felt like a dozen miners were picking away at his skull \u2026 digging for fool\u2019s gold. Lying back down, Adam closed his eyes and prayed for the vertigo to pass.<\/p>\n \u201cHe darned near bashed your head in with that rifle butt.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss\u2019s words spurred a memory. Adam had caught a periphery glimpse of the rifle coming toward him. He had turned away, just for an instant, because he\u2019d heard Hoss grunt. No sooner had he discovered his brother\u2019s shoulder had been skewered with a knife, then someone had blindsided him. Adam couldn\u2019t remember the blow, just the flash of recognition. And then \u2026 here <\/em>\u2026 this wagon.<\/p>\n \u201cHow\u2026?\u201d Bile rose into his throat, stealing away the rest of his words.<\/p>\n \u201cThat Maltby fella said they all had their own way of bein\u2019 handy,\u201d Hoss said. \u201cI reckon he was right.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t remember fighting.\u201d Adam looked at his knuckles. They weren\u2019t the least bit bruised.<\/p>\n \u201cDidn\u2019t get a chance. I hardly even noticed when that Runt fella pulled a knife outta his boot. Next thing I knew, it was in my shoulder.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you all right?\u201d Adam looked at his brother again. Hoss\u2019s shirt was torn and bloodied, but Adam spied a bandage beneath. And Hoss\u2019s arm was resting in a makeshift, cloth sling. \u00a0He recognized the feel of cloth around his own head then, too, and raised a hand, gingerly touching it. They\u2019d both been doctored?<\/p>\n \u201cThe reverend told that other young fella, Gabriel, to patch us up.\u201d Hoss pulled down his brows and shook his head. \u201cI just can\u2019t figure that man.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about\u2026.\u201d Adam cautiously sat up to scan the rest of the wagon. All he saw was a barrel, a sack of flour, two smaller sacks of beans, one of coffee, a wooden box of tin-ware and a pile of blankets. \u201cJoe?\u201d He looked at Hoss again. This time, the bile he tasted had everything to do with what he saw in his brother\u2019s eyes and nothing at all to do with his headache.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s still back there.\u201d Hoss\u2019s answer was sheepish, as though he was being forced to admit blame. \u201cI must\u2019ve \u2026 passed out for a minute or two after \u2026 well\u2026.\u201d He took a deep breath. \u201cWhen Runt pulled out the knife. I\u2019m sorry, Adam. I blacked out. Next thing I knew, I was in this wagon and they were patchin\u2019 me up.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam eased himself toward the wagon\u2019s gate and peered out. One of the reverend\u2019s two young sheep \u2026 the one Maltby had referred to as Runt, was trailing the wagon with all three of the Cartwright\u2019s horses in tow. And the sun was at its zenith. \u201cHalf the day\u2019s gone,\u201d Adam noted, his worry rising right along with another dose of bile.<\/p>\n Hoss looked as sick as Adam felt. \u201cYeah. You been out so long, I was worried you might never wake up.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey left Joe alone in the middle of the desert without his horse?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot alone. The reverend\u2019s with him.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam studied his brother. There was something more Hoss had to say, although he clearly didn\u2019t want to.<\/p>\n Hoss glanced down and then focused his attention on the small gap in the canvas behind them. \u201cI could hear \u2018em, Adam. I could hear \u2018em, but I couldn\u2019t do anything about it. That Gabriel fella, when he was patchin\u2019 me up\u2026. Well, I thought I could fight him, an\u2019 I tried to, especially when I heard Joe fightin\u2019 outside.\u201d Hoss met Adam\u2019s gaze for an instant, a quick smile showing the pride of his next words. \u201cYou know Joe. He fought like a wildcat. Take another look at Runt out there. All those shadows on his face are bruises, and he\u2019s favoring his right side.\u201d Then the smile was gone again, as was Hoss\u2019s willingness to show Adam his eyes. \u201cGabriel \u2026 he made sure I couldn\u2019t do anything to help Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam waited for Hoss to say more. \u201cWhat\u2019d he do?\u201d he asked when his brother held silent.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2026.\u201d Hoss took another deep breath and then let it out slowly. \u201cHe made this wound of mine worse before he finally stitched it up. I kept blackin\u2019 out.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam took a deep breath of his own. He knew it was a hard thing for Hoss to admit he hadn\u2019t been strong enough to fend off a man half his size. \u201cSo much for sheep,\u201d Adam said, absently looking at the dusty world beyond the tiny opening. It was hard for Adam, himself, to realize he\u2019d been knocked out before he\u2019d even taken a swing.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d Hoss waited for him to turn back, and then pointedly met his gaze. \u201cThat reverend, he\u2019s about as mad as that fella who shot Joe last year. He wants to\u2026. He\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe figures on him and Joe doin\u2019 everything just like in that fella\u2019s story.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you mean, \u2018everything\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe don\u2019t have a gun. Not like that. But \u2026 it\u2019s just the reverend and Joe. He said somethin\u2019 about that fella bein\u2019 beaten and abandoned out in the desert without water. And he said it\u2019s only right for Joe to walk in that man\u2019s shoes. The reverend figures on walkin\u2019 along beside Joe so he can see his miracle firsthand.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s insane.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. Sure is.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ve got to get back there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure do. But\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou gonna be up to it? These fellas don\u2019t exactly fight fair.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAt least we know that now.\u201d Adam looked through that little gap again. It was midday in the desert. They would have to stop soon to rest and water the horses. Adam and Hoss had both better be ready. But \u2026 could<\/em> they be ready? Adam\u2019s head was still spinning. And Hoss\u2026. How bad was that wound in his shoulder? Sighing heavily again, Adam realized it didn\u2019t matter. They had to be ready to fight. They couldn\u2019t expect another miracle.<\/p>\n \u201cThe Lord helps those who help themselves.\u201d The words came softly and unbidden. Adam wasn\u2019t even sure why he said them.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019d you say?\u201d<\/p>\n He looked at Hoss again, smiling sadly. \u201cThe Lord helps those who help themselves,\u201d he repeated in a stronger voice.<\/p>\n Hoss bit down on his cheek and gave those words far more thought than Adam was willing to do himself. \u201cYou reckon maybe Joe can help himself enough \u2018til we can get back to him?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know he\u2019ll try.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, he sure will at that. But will it be enough?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019d better pray that it is.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss shook his head. \u201cNo. We gotta do more than that. We gotta believe it will be.\u201d<\/p>\n A deep breath of stale, dusty air somehow seemed to pull a line from the Bible to the forefront of Adam\u2019s thoughts. \u201cFor by grace are ye saved through faith.\u201d<\/p>\n The look of deep pondering faded from Hoss\u2019s eyes, smoothing his uncharacteristically stern features. \u201cFaith.\u201d Hoss nodded. \u201cThat\u2019s exactly what we need. Joe\u2019s gonna be okay.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFaith,\u201d Adam repeated. \u201cI have to admit, it would be easier to come by if that reverend wasn\u2019t so Hell-bent on forcing God\u2019s hand.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRest up, older brother. \u2018Cause soon as this wagon stops, we gotta do some forcin\u2019 of our own.\u201d<\/p>\n Forcing? How much forcing were they likely to do, injured as they were and in the hands of former convicts who \u2018don\u2019t exactly fight fair,\u2019 as Hoss had said a moment earlier?<\/p>\n For by grace are ye saved through faith<\/em>. The words pushed themselves into Adam\u2019s thoughts again. This time, he even heard the voice of his father speaking them. Then he remembered the reverend calling himself a soldier of God, and he realized how untrue that statement had been, how delusional, and maybe even blasphemous that reverend had become. And he decided he and Hoss were the only soldiers of God in that desert that day — because they were ready to enter into a fight to protect a young man God had seen to it to protect, Himself, one year ago \u2026 a young man who was being forced to pay a price for that very miracle when he\u2019d done nothing immoral or unethical or just plain wrong to deserve it.<\/p>\n And yet, Adam didn\u2019t feel like a soldier of God, even despite his father\u2019s words about grace and faith. He felt like nothing more than an older brother desperate to see to the safety of a younger one.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Joe watched the sun climb up over the horizon and make its slow trek toward the hottest part of the day. He wondered where his brothers were and whether they were okay. Lying there on the desert floor with his hands tied in front of him and his ankles also bound, there wasn’t much else to do but think and wonder.<\/p>\n He’d fought the reverend’s men as hard as he could for as long as he could, but one barely grown young man couldn\u2019t hope to last long against three ex-prisoners, no matter how driven he’d been by rage and determination — or ‘spunk’ as the reverend had called it. Of course, Joe didn’t count the reverend in his tally of brawlers. Joe had managed to knock the old man off his feet with one blow. The reverend had stayed out of reach the whole rest of the time Joe had spent getting more than he was giving.<\/p>\n Everything hurt. His face. His chest. His stomach. Even his legs hurt, and his hip, where they’d kicked him after he’d fallen. He didn’t care about how much his knuckles hurt, at least. Every scrape and bruise on his hands matched up with a mark on those men. It particularly pleased Joe to see the black eye the reverend was sporting.<\/p>\n \u201cIt’s time.\u201d<\/p>\n The reverend’s words pulled Joe\u2019s attention. He looked over to where the man was sitting, where he’d been sitting for the past few hours, spending the time reading a ragged Bible or closing his eyes in quiet contemplation.<\/p>\n There wasn’t any point to Joe asking what he meant. Joe’s questions and arguments hadn’t caused Reverend Smith to blink, let alone respond the entire time they\u2019d been alone there. Only Joe’s curses had prompted any reaction at all, pulling the reverend’s brows into a puzzled scowl. It had been a long while since Joe had bothered either speaking or cursing. And anyway, his throat was too scratchy and his lips were torn and dry. He needed a drink of water, but the reverend had made sure not a drop had been left behind when he\u2019d sent his men away with Joe\u2019s brothers.<\/p>\n So Joe said nothing. He only watched as Reverend Smith mopped his face and neck with a handkerchief. After squinting up at the sun, the old man pushed himself awkwardly to his feet, one hand going to support his back. Grunts and groans followed him as he walked stiffly toward Joe, sending prickles of anxiety through the young Cartwright.<\/p>\n \u201cIt’s time<\/em>,\u201d the man had said. Time for what? Joe was glad Reverend Smith pointedly avoided his hateful glare, because he knew the self-declared man of God would have noticed fear lurking there as well.<\/p>\n At Joe\u2019s side, more groans and creaking joints brought the reverend downward again, and then he reached for the rope securing Joe’s ankles.<\/p>\n Joe bided his time and held his breath throughout the reverend\u2019s slow, deliberate journey. But his chance passed the very instant it had even presented itself. As soon as the rope fell away, Reverend Smith grabbed Joe’s arm and yanked him upward in a surprising burst of strength and energy.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat now?\u201d When Joe finally forced words out of his raw throat, he was surprised to hear how old he sounded — old and withered, as though he’d already swallowed enough devil’s dust to brand him as part of the desert itself. But he had bigger things to focus on, like how he could find his balance without the use of his still bound hands, especially with his head swimming and his own stiff muscles cramping at the sudden movement.<\/p>\n \u2026And the fact that the reverend had chosen that moment to look at him. He looked Joe right in the eye. \u201cWe walk.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWalk?” Caught up in the reverend’s dark gaze, Joe could barely comprehend what the man had said. He held himself still for a moment, locked into a stiff position and so hunched over from an ache in his belly that he had to look up to even catch that gaze at all. \u201cWhere?\u201d Joe added then. He couldn’t imagine walking anywhere, cramped up like he was.<\/p>\n Reverend Smith slowly raised one arm and pointed to the path his wagon had traveled hours earlier.<\/p>\n Part of Joe longed to do just as the man indicated. Following the wagon meant reaching his brothers. But he knew better. \u201cIn this heat? Without water?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat has been done before shall be done again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe won’t make it five miles.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMoses spent forty days and nights on the mountain with neither bread nor water. Jesus spent forty days in the desert.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe’ll be dead in forty hours.\u201d Joe didn’t bother adding that he would probably collapse within forty minutes.<\/p>\n \u201cMy faith will sustain me,\u201d the reverend said, making no effort to include any mention of Joe. \u201cAs God saved the preacher after his journey through this desert, so shall He protect me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe preacher?\u201d Joe asked, although he really didn’t care. Joe’s own journey was the only one that mattered to him.<\/p>\n Reverend Smith cared, though; and he looked annoyed for having to explain. \u201cThe man you encountered here one year ago.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe felt his familiar rage flaring up again. It stole his breath every bit as much as the sudden rise to his feet. \u201cThe man who shot me was no preacher.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe man who inspired God to work his miracle has recognized the significance of salvation. He has been reborn and has earned his right to the title his fellow prisoners placed upon him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou make him sound like some kind of saint! He shot me for trying to help him!\u201d Joe’s anger somehow broke through all the cramping, little by little drawing his back up arrow straight.<\/p>\n \u201cSome would say you might believe yourself a saint for having been granted a miracle.\u201d Disgust curled the reverend’s lip. \u201cYet you are quick to take the Lord’s name in vain. And you raised your hand against a man of God as well as his flock.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou’re no more a man of God than Maltby; and your so called flock tried to kill my brothers!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. The goal was simply to prevent their interference. They will not be harmed further so long as they do not disrupt this pilgrimage.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPilgrimage?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThrough the desert. You and I, the man of God and the sinner, following the path of a proven miracle.\u201d<\/p>\n A proven miracle\u2026. Joe suppressed a shudder as he recalled feeling the reverend\u2019s dry, calloused fingers prodding at the puckered scar on his abdomen and the thicker, longer one on his back. While the others had held Joe down, he\u2019d bucked like a wild stallion that would never be made to submit despite every inch of his body aching from the blows he\u2019d taken. Yet for all that bucking, Joe had been hopelessly outmatched. He\u2019d had no chance to stop the reverend from pulling at his shirt, exposing the scars and forcing Joe to remember when the wounds had been fresh, when Hoss had pressed his arms to the ground, preventing him from rolling and squirming against the pain. Nor had he had any hope of pushing away the reverend\u2019s fingers. The feel of those fingers sliding across Joe\u2019s tender skin had been nothing like Adam\u2019s cautious prodding a year ago. Instead, the reverend\u2019s touch had left Joe thinking of snakes and deadwood, and needing to retch.<\/p>\n Devil\u2019s dust. That\u2019s what that man — the preacher — had said of this desert. He might as well have been talking about Reverend Smith.<\/p>\n The reverend pushed Joe\u2019s shoulder to turn him. \u201cNow. Begin.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe staggered and swung back around.<\/p>\n \u201cI said begin walking!\u201d The reverend pushed him again, hard enough to cause Joe to stumble.<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s right knee twisted and buckled. He fell awkwardly, landing first on that knee and then on his already bruised hip; and he couldn\u2019t help but cry out at a jolt that went all the way to his ankle but flared worst in his twisted knee.<\/p>\n \u201cRise, heathen.\u201d The reverend grabbed Joe\u2019s arm. Once more showing that odd, hidden strength, he pulled Joe back to his feet. \u201cObey them that have the rule over you and submit yourself. They watch for your soul.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe steadied himself, trying to avoid putting too much weight on his now weakened leg. \u201cYou don’t rule me, and the only one watching over my soul out here is God. Now untie me.\u201d Joe held his hands out toward Reverend Smith, pain, anger and frustration giving him a hidden strength of his own.<\/p>\n \u201cWhosoever resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God: and they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t lie to yourself. You\u2019re the one heading toward damnation. You may call yourself a reverend, but you don’t speak for God. If you did, you wouldn’t have attacked three innocent men in the middle of the desert. Now untie me,\u201d Joe repeated.<\/p>\n \u201cI did what was necessary.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d Joe asked. \u201cWhy was it necessary to stab Hoss and try to bash Adam’s head in? What did they do to deserve that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey would have resisted the pilgrimage.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou’re damned right, they would! We’ve already lived through this pilgrimage of yours. And we have no right to believe God owes us another miracle.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo faith, you mean,\u201d the old man corrected.<\/p>\n \u201cI said exactly what I meant. And I have plenty of faith in God and in my brothers. But I don’t have a lick of faith in you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou are nothing but a blaspheming heathen!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe so, but Providence, my brothers and a tired doctor in Carson City all thought I was worth saving last year. Why are you so dead-set on killing me now?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI am here to save, not kill.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen you\u2019re doing a poor job of it. You can’t save anything in this desert without water. Now untie me, and then I don’t care what you do. I imagine someone will stumble across your buzzard picked carcass forty days from now.\u201d<\/p>\n Smith stared at him, his hard eyes softening into an old man’s look of confusion. His mouth worked uselessly for a moment while his eyes danced about, searching for something he could find nowhere but within himself. \u201cLet the elders that rule well be counted worthy of double honor,\u201d he said finally, \u201cespecially they who labor in the word and doctrine.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t rule well, and you don’t rule me. And God knows your labor in the word and doctrine has done nothing but bring harm to my brothers and me.\u201d Joe thrust his hands toward Smith’s face and found himself fighting the urge to wrap his arms around the man’s neck and draw the rope against his throat, pulling as hard as he could. Then he took a long, hot breath, allowing his shoulders to relax. \u201cI have no choice but to start walking,\u201d he said tiredly, \u201cwhether or not I want to take part in this pilgrimage of yours. But I can\u2019t do it with my hands tied.\u201d<\/p>\n They stood like that for a long while, long enough for Joe to feel his renewed strength weakening. Finally, the old man seemed to realize the truth in Joe\u2019s words. He nodded and started to pick at the knots that had confounded Joe for too long already.<\/p>\n When the rope fell away, Joe dropped his gaze right along with it, and then he turned toward the wagon\u2019s path, putting the reverend behind him and setting his sights on reaching his brothers.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n 3<\/strong><\/p>\n \u201cYea \u2026 though I \u2026 walk \u2026.\u201d The reverend\u2019s halting voice at Joe\u2019s back made it hard to think. \u201cThrough the valley \u2026 of the shadow \u2026 of death \u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n Death. Joe was walking through death, wasn\u2019t he? Or \u2026 or toward it.<\/p>\n \u201cI will fear \u2026 no evil \u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n Evil? Joe was surrounded by devil\u2019s dust. Is that what the reverend meant?<\/p>\n \u201c\u2026For thou art with me \u2026 thy rod \u2026 and \u2026 thy \u2026 staff \u2026 they \u2026. They\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n A dull thud behind him caused Joe to miss a step. He fought for balance in both his stance and his thoughts; then he turned cautiously, concerned that if he fell he might not be able to get up again. And he saw that’s just what had happened to the old man. He\u2019d fallen. Smith was on his hands and knees, his chest working erratically to route careless, desperate mouthfuls of air.<\/p>\n \u201cThey \u2026 comfort \u2026 me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStop,\u201d Joe said, his own breaths too similar to the reverend\u2019s chaotic ones. He gulped in another raw swallow of dust as Smith slowly raised his head. \u201cStop talking.\u201d Joe added. \u201cSave your breath.\u201d The words came painfully. Shouldn\u2019t it be the same for the reverend? \u201cKeep your mouth shut. Keep \u2026.\u201d Joe took another swallow of dust. \u201cKeep it from drying out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThou art \u2026 with me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI said shut up,\u201d Joe tried to shout, but his words sounded like a whisper. He was thirsty. Oh, so thirsty. Why was he wasting breath to help the man responsible for that thirst?<\/p>\n A pebble<\/em>, he realized suddenly. \u201cSuck on a pebble.<\/em>\u201d That\u2019s what one of the soldiers at Fort Churchill had told him. \u201cStops you from thinkin\u2019 so much about how thirsty you are. Also keeps your mouth closed so you don\u2019t eat all that sand.\u201d<\/em> Joe had asked how the men stationed there could bear spending all that time out in the desert. And maybe \u2026 maybe that soldier\u2019s answer could help Joe to bear it better now.<\/p>\n \u201cThe valley \u2026 the \u2026 shadow\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n Ignoring the old man, Joe scanned the ground. He took three steps and then dropped carelessly to his knees, mindless of how sore his right knee was until it hit the hard ground.<\/p>\n \u201cDammit!\u201d The word left his mouth before he had the chance to stop and think about what he\u2019d already told Reverend Smith. Keep your mouth shut<\/em>. But his knee hurt from the impact. Heck, his whole body hurt. And he had miles to walk before he would even come close to Carson City.<\/p>\n \u201cStop wasting time,\u201d Adam said in his thoughts. \u201cJust get it done and over with. One of these days you might even realize it takes more energy to complain than to actually do whatever it is you\u2019re trying to avoid.\u201d Of course, Adam had been talking about mucking out stalls in the barn when he\u2019d said that. But somehow the advice had stuck \u2026 or at least it had lingered in Joe\u2019s mind until that moment out there in the desert, where wasting time could be as deadly as wasting water.<\/p>\n \u201cSwear not\u2026,\u201d the old man rasped. \u201cNeither by \u2026 by Heaven\u2026. Neither by\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe grabbed up two small stones before pushing himself back to his feet and limping toward Smith. \u201cHere!\u201d he commanded, holding his hand out with one of the stones in his open palm. \u201cTake it! Put it on your tongue. Suck on it. Unless you\u2019re ready to give up.\u201d<\/p>\n Reverend Smith squinted at him. \u201cFaith \u2026 I have \u2026 faith.\u201d He took the offering between his finger and thumb, and then looked curiously at it.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah? Well so do I. But not in you. You seem to have forgotten \u2026 the Lord helps those who help themselves. Now suck on that pebble and get back on your feet and start helping yourself.\u201d Putting the remaining pebble in his own mouth, Joe turned away to continue his slow, painful journey, until the extended silence behind him proved the old man hadn\u2019t made a move.<\/p>\n Swiveling around, Joe told Smith to, \u201cGet up or die out here.\u201d Unfortunately, his head spun and his chest hurt from the effort. Worse, he could see that Smith was struggling to do just as Joe had commanded, but his old bones were working against him.<\/p>\n Joe should leave him \u2026 he wanted<\/em> to … but something deep down inside refused to allow Joe to abandon an old man to all that devil\u2019s dust, even if that old man seemed to have some of the devil inside him already. Disgusted, frustrated and wishing to Heaven he didn\u2019t have to bother, Joe retraced his steps and grabbed the old reverend\u2019s arm. Moments later, Reverend Smith was up and walking, supported by a smaller, thinner and heavily bruised Little Joe.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n It was a long shot and Hoss knew it. With Adam passed out again, he was on his own when a \u201cWhoa<\/em>!\u201d from the front of the wagon signaled the opportunity the brothers had been waiting for. Still, a long shot was better than no shot at all. Reaching into the sack of flour, he scooped up a handful, closed his fingers around it, scooted toward the back of the wagon \u2026 and waited.<\/p>\n The horses trailing behind them clattered up closer. One blustered. Another neighed in complaint — must have been Cochise, based on the angle of the sound.<\/p>\n A tight feeling took hold of Hoss\u2019s chest as he considered the similarities between Joe and his horse. Both were impatient, quick to anger and ready to take on the whole world if they had to. Today, all they had to take on was a merciless desert and a bunch of wolves pretending to be sheep.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019re you stoppin\u2019 for?\u201d Runt called out to whoever had been driving the wagon.<\/p>\n \u201cRest the horses,\u201d Gabriel answered.<\/p>\n \u201cAin\u2019t got time for that!\u201d Runt hollered then. \u201cMaltby\u2019s got too much of a lead on us already!\u201d<\/p>\n Maltby\u2019s not with \u2018em<\/em>? Hoss was pleasantly surprised. While part of him was curious about what had caused the skew-nosed man to take off on his own, a bigger part zeroed-in on the fact that Hoss\u2019s long shot had just gotten a mite shorter. Now there were only two fellas to worry about rather than three.<\/p>\n Footsteps scrunched closer. Hoss leaned forward. He took in a deep breath \u2026 and held it.<\/p>\n \u201cGonna kill the horses if we don\u2019t rest \u2018em.\u201d Gabriel\u2019s voice was closer now, too, but it was Runt\u2019s hand Hoss saw reaching for the canvas.<\/p>\n \u201cTo Hell with the horses,\u201d Runt answered, fueling Hoss\u2019s determination. \u201cLong as they get us to Carson before Maltby runs off with our money, they can fall over dead for all I care.\u201d<\/p>\n The canvas moved.<\/p>\n Hoss caught sight of Runt\u2019s side arm \u2026 and then his face.<\/p>\n Hoss blew out his held breath with as much force as he could muster, aiming all that loose flour right toward Runt\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cAhhh!\u201d Runt cried out an instant before Hoss launched himself from the wagon, barreling into him with his good shoulder.<\/p>\n Both men fell to the ground. Hard. Runt got the worst of it; Hoss could hear him fighting for breath. But Hoss didn\u2019t fare a whole lot better. His shoulder wound felt as fresh as ever, as though the knife had only just pierced him.<\/p>\n It didn\u2019t matter. It couldn\u2019t<\/em> matter. He had to think past the pain. In fact, he couldn\u2019t allow himself to think at all. He didn\u2019t have time for thinking.<\/p>\n He rolled off the smaller man. Darkness encroached and a river pulsing with every frantic beat of his heart flooded his ears, masking the sound of Gabriel\u2019s arrival. None of that mattered either. Hoss knew Gabriel was there. He also knew the man would be ready to start shooting. He could only pray for both luck and divine intervention as he reached blindly for Runt\u2019s dropped gun.<\/p>\n There\u2026.<\/p>\n He wrapped his fingers around the handle and thumbed back the hammer. The very instant his eyes landed on Runt\u2019s startled companion and the gun in his hand, Hoss fired.<\/p>\n The world spun when Gabriel dropped backward. Hoss felt himself propelled toward the ground right along with the man he\u2019d just shot. Then he lay still for a long moment \u2026 closing his eyes in a useless effort to block out the white-hot pain \u2026 breathing \u2026 listening \u2026 waiting.<\/p>\n \u201cI wouldn\u2019t if I were you.\u201d Adam\u2019s voice pulled his eyes open again, and then drew Hoss\u2019s gaze from the blindingly blue sky toward his brother. Adam was standing next to Gabriel \u2026 or maybe \u2026 maybe swaying more than standing. He leaned against the wagon for support, and he had Gabriel\u2019s gun aimed and ready in his hand. At least that wasn\u2019t swaying. Hoss didn\u2019t doubt that Adam had Runt clear in his sights.<\/p>\n Runt\u2026. Hoss turned to find the other outlaw on his knees beside him. A rock was enclosed in his fist.<\/p>\n \u201cDrop it,\u201d Adam commanded.<\/p>\n Runt hesitated, his eyes dancing between the brothers before landing on Gabriel\u2019s unmoving body.<\/p>\n \u201cI said, drop it<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n Runt\u2019s fingers uncurled, allowing the rock to roll off his palm. It landed with a heavy thud and a soft spray of sand. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t have shot him,\u201d Runt said. There was an odd tone of sadness in his voice. His eyes, too, had a sad look to them. \u201cHe was a good man. His momma named him for an angel. Funny though, he spent his whole life waiting for the angels to help him. They never did.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss took a slow breath. \u201cHe was murderer and a thief, same as you.\u201d<\/p>\n Runt\u2019s eyes went cold. \u201cHe was a better man than me. Ain\u2019t never killed a soul. Animals, neither. Wouldn\u2019t even hunt.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSeems to me he came out here to hunt,\u201d Hoss said, feeling his own eyes going cold. \u201cThat\u2019s what all of you were doin\u2019, huntin\u2019 for my little brother.\u201d<\/p>\n Runt gave his head a slow shake. \u201cGabriel came out here to find them angels of his. He was countin\u2019 on the reverend to show him how.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about you?\u201d Adam asked. \u201cWhy\u2019d you come?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor the money,\u201d Hoss answered without taking his eyes from Runt. \u201cI reckon that bank note from Captain Randall ain\u2019t in your saddlebag no more.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat was only part of it,\u201d Runt said. \u201cI came on account of Gabriel. Maltby came for the money. And I figured maybe \u2026 maybe that was gonna be part of the miracle. Maybe Gabriel\u2019s angels meant for us to get that money, so we could start over without havin\u2019 to steal from no one else.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBlood money doesn\u2019t come from angels.\u201d Adam sounded as strong as ever at that moment, as though he could lift that wagon rather than having to rely on it to hold him up.<\/p>\n \u201cNo one was supposed to die,\u201d Runt said.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019d you think was gonna happen if you hit me with that rock?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/p>\n \u201cNone of what was supposed to happen is happenin\u2019 now. First Maltby run off. And now \u2026 now Gabriel\u2019s dead. You killed him. He wouldn\u2019t have hurt you.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss knew that wasn\u2019t true. Gabriel did plenty of hurting back at that camp, in between doctoring Hoss\u2019s shoulder. \u201cThen why\u2019d he have his gun on me?\u201d<\/p>\n Runt shrugged. \u201cHe wouldn\u2019t have killed you, anyhow. He never killed no one, not even Boulder.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBoulder?\u201d The question left Hoss\u2019s lips before he realized how little he cared.<\/p>\n \u201cFella back in prison. He needed killin\u2019, after what he did to Gabriel. But I was the one who had to do it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo one needs killing,\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n \u201cBoulder did.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about me?\u201d Hoss asked, his eyes going to the rock beside him.<\/p>\n \u201cYou killed Gabriel,\u201d Runt said flatly.<\/p>\n \u201cJudge not,\u201d Adam said, \u201clest ye also be judged.\u201d<\/p>\n Runt\u2019s gaze grew unfocused, though he aimed it toward Gabriel again. \u201cI come out here hopin\u2019 to believe in all that Heaven and Hell nonsense. Now I reckon it\u2019s better I don\u2019t have nothin\u2019 left to believe in.\u201d<\/p>\n Before Hoss could even begin to make sense of what he was saying, Runt grabbed up that rock again and cocked his arm back with a look of murder in his eyes.<\/p>\n Adam saw it, too. He saw it and acted quicker than Hoss could think. He did the only thing he could do. He pulled the trigger.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n 4<\/strong><\/p>\n Ben Cartwright had had his fill of lawyers and the bullheadedness of Nevada\u2019s political epicenter. He wanted nothing more than to ride back to the Ponderosa with his sons. But the afternoon was waning and those sons of his had yet to return to Carson City. It was clear the journey home would be delayed another day.<\/p>\n Glancing eastward and wishing he would see Adam, Hoss and Little Joe riding into town — wishing in fact that he had ridden with them rather than staying behind to argue about mining versus grazing rights with men who saw nothing wrong with destroying land to grow rich — Ben sighed and started walking to the hotel to finish his waiting in relative comfort.<\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright!\u201d someone called from down the street. \u201cMister Cartwright, sir!\u201d Ben turned and recognized the bank manager\u2019s young assistant running toward him. \u201cMister Brownley sent me to find you,\u201d the young man panted out as soon as he stopped. \u201cAbout a bank note he wants you to verify.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA bank note?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, sir. A man brought it in to cash it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOne of my sons?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, sir. Said he works for you. Said a Cartwright signed it over to him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat doesn\u2019t make any sense,\u201d Ben said absently. \u201cWhat did he say his name was?\u201d<\/p>\n The young man shrugged sheepishly. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, sir. I didn\u2019t think to ask. Would you mind coming back to the bank with me, so we can clear this up?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes. Yes, of course.\u201d Ben couldn\u2019t imagine who among his men would have had the need to cash a bank note in Carson City. His thoughts conjured possible explanations while he followed the young man, all of which filled him with a growing sense of dread. Had his sons been set upon by bandits in the desert?<\/p>\n They turned the corner, pulling into view an anxious crowd that blocked the bank\u2019s entrance; and dread gave way to an inexplicable fear. Ben\u2019s heart, near to bursting from its sudden, frantic pounding, prodded him to start running right along with everyone else in the street. He stopped along with everyone else too, barely an instant later, when the sheriff came out of that bank, hauling a hand-cuffed and dust-covered stranger alongside him.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, Mister Cartwright\u2026.\u201d The sheriff scowled. \u201cIs this your man?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben shook his head, puzzled. He studied the stranger, looking past the skewed nose set in the middle of an unshaven face to the darkness in the man\u2019s hard eyes. \u201cWho are you? What is your business with me?\u201d<\/p>\n The man sneered, lifting one side of his lip and skewing his nose even more.<\/p>\n \u201cHe said your son, Adam, hired him,\u201d the sheriff answered. \u201cMilford Brownley refused to cash that note without your say-so, and this fella decided to let his gun do his talking. Seemed pretty clear that note weren\u2019t his to begin with. Show him,\u201d he added with a nod to the manager.<\/p>\n Turning to take the paper that was handed to him, Ben recognized it as the army\u2019s payment for the horses his sons had delivered. On the back, someone using Adam\u2019s name had signed it over to a Harvey Maltby.<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s jaw tightened in fear and anger as he returned his attention to the stranger. \u201cThis is a forgery,\u201d he spat out in rage. \u201cThat<\/em>,\u201d he shouted, stabbing a finger at the signature, \u201cis not<\/em> my son\u2019s writing. How did you come by this?\u201d<\/p>\n The stranger\u2019s sneer became a cold smile. \u201cFound it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere — are — my — sons?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe God knows.\u201d The stranger lifted his brows in a mock look of wonder and shrugged. \u201cBut I sure don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n Before he even gave thought to what he was doing, Ben had the man\u2019s collar in his fist. \u201cWhere are they?\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n \u201cAll right, that\u2019s enough.\u201d The sheriff pushed Ben away. \u201cI\u2019ve got a duty to take this man to the jailhouse. We\u2019ll get this sorted there.\u201d<\/p>\n Casting a desperate glance eastward, Ben was more inclined to saddle his horse and start riding hard and fast into the desert to find his sons. But he needed to hear what this stranger had to say. He needed to know just what he might be riding out to find.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Joe lost count of how many times he\u2019d stumbled, how many times he\u2019d had to force himself back to his feet to continue his hopeless journey. His knee protested every step. His raw throat was coated more with sand than saliva. And his mind kept playing tricks on him, drawing him endlessly toward glistening streams that lay forever out of reach.<\/p>\n Nor did the tricks stop there. Joe\u2019s thoughts began to scatter like the sand swirling around him in a furnace fueled wind, a Hellish wind that left him wondering what he\u2019d done to offend Saint Peter. He tried to imagine pearly gates and the beckoning smile of his mother, but all he saw was the bleached white bones of a dead land.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t so much that he thought of death; he\u2019d lost the ability to remember life. The Ponderosa was a dream that grew more elusive than the taunting images of water he could never drink. The faces of his family faded from him mind, hidden behind endless clouds of dust. Devil\u2019s dust\u2026.<\/p>\n Yes; devil\u2019s dust. He was alone with the devil on a journey to nowhere.<\/p>\n Although … he wasn\u2019t quite alone. Not exactly. There was someone with him, a man whose dead weight was Joe\u2019s to bear. Or maybe it wasn\u2019t just dead weight. Maybe the man was truly dead. Maybe they both were, but the devil had given Joe this burden while the other had been spared, allowed to sleep in peaceful surrender.<\/p>\n It didn\u2019t matter. Not really. Nothing mattered but the fact that one step had to lead to another. It never occurred to Joe to either stop plodding endlessly forward or ease his burden by shedding himself of the sleeping man\u2019s dead weight. Such thoughts required free will, and for Joe there was no such thing as freedom. There was only devil\u2019s dust and the stranger he dragged behind him in a makeshift travois built of a threadbare, black coat and two leather belts someone had linked together. And one step after another toward \u2026 nothing.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Hoss saw shadows growing taller and deeper in front of him as the sun dropped lower and lower at his back. He felt his hopes falling right along with it. Too many hours had passed since Joe had been left behind. The horses were hot and tired and moving far too slowly, burdened as they were by dragging along a wagon heavy with supplies. They wouldn\u2019t be moving at all if Hoss and Adam hadn\u2019t wasted time watering and resting them. And Joe\u2026. Joe didn\u2019t even have any water.<\/p>\n Hoss wished either Adam or he could have ridden on ahead, but neither of them was fit enough to leave the other behind. Although \u2026 that wasn\u2019t entirely true. Hoss figured he could make it safe enough. But he didn\u2019t dare leave Adam, not with that head wound. No, they didn\u2019t have a choice but to take the wagon. And besides, Hoss was pretty sure they\u2019d need that wagon for Joe, once they reached him. That little brother of theirs was tough, but the desert was tougher.<\/p>\n Yep, Hoss told himself. Joe was gonna need that wagon as much as he was gonna need the water it carried. No matter how much hope Hoss lost, he had to believe Joe was gonna need that water. He had to believe Joe wouldn\u2019t be too far past that need. He had<\/em> to. Because if he didn\u2019t believe, then what was the point to any of it?<\/p>\n \u201cFor by grace are ye saved through faith<\/em>.\u201d Adam had said that just a few hours earlier. And although Adam wasn\u2019t talking much at all anymore, instead just staring out at those shadows with a furrowed brow, Hoss could still hear his words.<\/p>\n Faith. They couldn\u2019t lose faith.<\/p>\n \u201cHee-yah!\u201d he called out, urging the horses to pick up their pace. A moment later, they slowed once more. The animals were giving what they could. Hoss knew that. He just had to have faith that what they gave would be enough as the shadows grew yet longer, stretching farther out into the desert \u2026 until \u2026 until they finally reached something darker still, something that Hoss knew in his gut was the prone form of his little brother.<\/p>\n \u201cHee-yah!\u201d he shouted again and again. He no longer allowed the horses to slow. He couldn\u2019t. Not anymore. \u201cHee-yah!\u201d<\/p>\n As they drew closer, Hoss saw two prone figures and any doubt he might have harbored was chased away. That was Joe, all right. It was Joe and the reverend, both. And neither one of them was moving.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n It was almost dusk by the time Adam stepped cautiously from the wagon seat. It hadn\u2019t even been dawn yet when he\u2019d last seen Little Joe. So much time had passed. Too much time. And now\u2026. Now his little brother was lying face down on the desert floor, absolutely still.\u00a0 Adam wanted to run to Joe, to at least follow closely on Hoss\u2019s heels, but the throbbing pain in his head threatened to send him back into the black fog he\u2019d been managing to avoid since he\u2019d awakened in the wagon to find Hoss fighting for his life all those miles and hours behind them. Adam had only God to thank for waking him in time back then. He prayed he would be thanking God again as soon as he knew for sure that Joe was still alive.<\/p>\n Adam was barely able to breathe as Hoss lowered himself to the ground beside their young brother. Clearly, Joe had passed out on his feet. He\u2019d fallen with his arms at his sides and his fingers loosely clutching the leather belts affixed to the reverend\u2019s shredded coat. That he hadn\u2019t used his hands to break his fall was telling. He\u2019d gone as far as he could go.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s alive.\u201d<\/p>\n Momentarily stunned by Hoss\u2019s words, Adam froze where he stood and watched Hoss turn Little Joe to his back. It seemed impossible to believe that the motionless form was still breathing.<\/p>\n \u201cCan ya\u2019 give me that canteen?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam found his own breath again and used it to softly berate himself for having to be reminded. Then he moved more quickly than he would have thought possible, grabbing a canteen from the stack they\u2019d filled while resting the horses.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe,\u201d Hoss said, reaching blindly behind him until Adam placed the canteen into his hand. \u201cCome on, punkin. Show me you can hear me.\u201d<\/p>\n There was no reaction.<\/p>\n Hoss nodded toward the other man without looking away from his charge. \u201cWhat about the reverend?\u201d he asked Adam. \u201cHe still breathin\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDoes it matter?\u201d Adam made no effort to move.<\/p>\n \u201cIt mattered to Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n It had mattered, hadn\u2019t it? Their little brother had spent the last of his strength trying to drag that man out of the desert with him. How much farther could he have gone without that burden? And why had he bothered?<\/p>\n But Adam already knew the answer. Joe couldn\u2019t hope to abandon anyone in need. Compassion and concern for their fellow man were traits that were integral to the men Adam and each of his brothers had become, because they were integral to the man who\u2019d raised them. No son of Ben Cartwright could turn his back on suffering, not even one who\u2019d suffered at the hands of the very man he was trying to help — or the brothers who were forced to address the results of that suffering.<\/p>\n Sighing and wishing it didn\u2019t have to matter at all, Adam turned his attentions to Reverend Smith. \u201cHe\u2019s breathing,\u201d he announced, feeling no emotion \u2026 or, perhaps, the wrong emotion. He felt a sort of sick satisfaction at seeing the reverend\u2019s raw, blistered face and hands and imagining what the man\u2019s back must look like after having been dragged across the desert with nothing between his skin and the sand but the thin cloth of his shirt and coat.<\/p>\n A moment later, thinking only of Joe, Adam returned to the wagon for another canteen and set to work at keeping the miserable wretch alive.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Hoss was worried. Dadburnit<\/em>, it was more than that. He was plumb scared. He needed to get his brothers out of the desert. Truth was, he needed to get himself<\/em> out of the desert, and that was the problem to all of it. He didn\u2019t know if he would have the strength, come morning.<\/p>\n Come morning\u2026.<\/p>\n He\u2019d been all fired up to get moving right after they\u2019d found Little Joe. Riding at night through the desert was better on the horses, after all — but \u2026 not after those very horses had been ridden hard all through the day. Hoss needed the horses to be fit. He needed to rely on them, because he couldn\u2019t rely on anyone else, not even himself. His wound was hot, inflamed and so painful he could no longer use his arm. Determination had allowed him to fight back against Runt and Gabriel hours earlier. He\u2019d still had determination aplenty when they\u2019d reached their little brother; but by that time the fire in his wound had grown strong enough to burn out the dry tinder of his determination. He couldn\u2019t even lift Joe up off of the ground. He couldn\u2019t do much of anything except to set up a makeshift camp and tend to a tiny fire while Adam tended to Joe.<\/p>\n Looking over at his brothers, Hoss found himself wishing his big brother could take charge. Adam always knew what to do; he\u2019d helped both of his brothers out of all sorts of trouble through the years. But he couldn\u2019t help them out of this, not with that head wound. Even now, Adam\u2019s eyes were closed despite his insistence that he would watch over Joe through the night. Adam\u2019s head was dropped back against the wagon wheel where he\u2019d propped himself up to sit beside Little Joe. His hand was limp in his lap, his fingers no longer gripping the wet cloth he\u2019d been holding to Joe\u2019s lips.<\/p>\n Hoss figured he\u2019d better take over, but that would mean getting up and walking over to where his brothers were. He wasn\u2019t sure he could even continue sitting up. Getting<\/em> up was altogether out of the question.<\/p>\n He blinked hard against a wave of pain and struggled to gulp down as much air as he could. Then his eyes landed on the reverend. It was probably time to get some more water into him, too.<\/p>\n Why\u2019d you have to do it?<\/em> Hoss wondered, without moving. Why couldn\u2019t you just believe in what you\u2019d heard, and have faith that God\u2019s miracles are His to work? The when and how of them are at God\u2019s choosing, not anyone else\u2019s. No man can tell God what to do. Why couldn\u2019t you just have faith?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cFor by grace are ye saved through faith.\u201d Adam\u2019s voice pulled Hoss\u2019s attention back to his brother. But \u2026 Adam\u2019s eyes were still closed; and his chin was as limp as his hand, pulling his mouth open slightly in sleep.<\/p>\n Confused, yet oddly comforted, Hoss gave in to his own weariness. He lay himself down, closed his eyes and prayed for God to provide the very miracle Reverend Smith had demanded.<\/p>\n But \u2026 not for him, God. I don\u2019t much care what he believes or not. But, you see, God\u2026. It ain\u2019t Joe\u2019s fault what that man did out here. And it ain\u2019t Pa\u2019s fault. And it just ain\u2019t right to take all of Pa\u2019s sons away from him, all on account of saving Joe\u2019s life last year. If You gotta take one of us, I understand. \u2018Cause it ain\u2019t right for us to take Your gifts and never give nothin\u2019 back. But don\u2019t take Joe, God. Please, God, not Joe. You saved him last year for a reason, and I just know he ain\u2019t done what You need yet. And Pa needs him. And Adam \u2026 Adam\u2019s got a whole lot to give to this world. Please, God, if you gotta take one of us, take me. I\u2019ve had a blessed life. I\u2019ve been fortunate. And I\u2019m ready, God. If you need me, I\u2019m ready. I\u2019m\u2026<\/em>.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n 5<\/strong><\/p>\n Carson City\u2019s sheriff had always known that Ben Cartwright tended to be as immovable as the entire Sierra mountain range whenever the wellbeing of the mighty Ponderosa was in jeopardy. When the wellbeing of Cartwright\u2019s sons was at stake, God help any man who got in his way. The sheriff should have reckoned that. He really hadn\u2019t stood a chance with using reason to dissuade Cartwright from riding off willy-nilly into the desert at night. If that Maltby fellow\u2019s story were true, it was entirely possible one or more of Cartwright\u2019s sons might not be alive come morning — if they weren\u2019t dead already.<\/p>\n \u201cRunt\u2019s a killer,\u201d Maltby had told them. \u201cDon\u2019t let his parole fool ya\u2019. He killed plenty of men in that prison and always laughed about it afterward. Thing was, the guards never bothered to report him for doin\u2019 it.\u201d The man\u2019s eyes had widened, but the sheriff knew better than to believe there was any real fear in him. He might have been telling the truth; in fact, there was no reason to think he hadn\u2019t. But whether or not the man he called \u2018Runt\u2019 was a killer didn\u2019t worry Maltby any. That simple fact likely meant he\u2019d done his own share of killing. He also probably figured he\u2019d be the one still standing if it ever came down to a fight between Runt and him.<\/p>\n After hearing all of what Maltby had to say, the sheriff reckoned there\u2019d be no point to arguing with the force of nature Ben Cartwright had become. The sheriff even gathered a posse to help him; and every one of the men in that posse rode hard. They were able to, thanks to an unnaturally bright night. It seemed as though the stars cast more light than usual; and the half-moon might as well have been full for the way it shone down on that desert floor.<\/p>\n But just when that sheriff got to thinking they were chasing nothing but stories, right when that half-moon was near to setting, it shone its light upon two bodies lying side by side.<\/p>\n \u201cHold up!\u201d the sheriff hollered, raising his hand in emphasis. Then he turned and took a good long look at Ben Cartwright.<\/p>\n Maybe it was the odd starlight and moon rays that made the rancher\u2019s face take on that pale, ghostly sheen the sheriff saw at that moment. But it was more likely Cartwright was thinking those corpses might be all that was left of two of his sons.<\/p>\n \u201cYou wait here,\u201d the sheriff ordered.<\/p>\n Whether Cartwright heard him or not, he couldn\u2019t say. But the old rancher sure didn\u2019t listen. He climbed stiffly down from his horse and started following slowly, as though he needed to see for himself but he wasn\u2019t in any hurry to do so.<\/p>\n \u201cStrangers,\u201d the sheriff called out as soon as he caught a good look at the faces. Relieved, he turned again to make sure Cartwright listened this time. \u201cIt\u2019s not your sons. But it\u2019s a fair guess it was your boys who done this. I\u2019d say that\u2019s a pretty good sign they\u2019re in better shape than Maltby was saying.\u201d<\/p>\n Cartwright closed his eyes, drew in a long breath that pulled his shoulders back and nodded slowly. But his relief didn\u2019t last long. \u201cThen where are they?\u201d he asked, renewed concern evident in the pull of his brow. \u201cWe should have passed them on the road.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSheriff?\u201d a rider shouted. \u201cLooks like they went back into the desert.\u201d<\/p>\n Cartwright sighed heavily and his brows smoothed in understanding. \u201cLittle Joe,\u201d he said softly as he looked deeper into the shadows than any man could hope to really see. \u201cMaltby must have been telling the truth. They left Joe behind. Adam and Hoss\u2026. They would have gone back for their brother.\u201d Standing up arrow straight, Cartwright\u2019s eyes came alight with renewed strength. And then Ben Cartwright moved like a man half his age, running to his horse and mounting almost before the sheriff had a chance to think about following.<\/p>\n There goes that force of nature again<\/em>, the sheriff thought idly. If determination alone could keep anyone alive, Ben Cartwright shouldn\u2019t have a thing to worry about. Trouble was, that desert was as immovable as the Sierras, too. And it didn\u2019t much care about any man\u2019s determination.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Several miles deeper into that immovable desert, after the moon had sunk too low to be of any further help, the sheriff noticed a cluster of shadows that stood out from the rest. As they drew closer, one of those shadows gained the distinct outline of a covered wagon.<\/p>\n The sheriff wasn\u2019t surprised to find Ben Cartwright spurring his already straining horse into a desperate canter. The sheriff forced his own to keep pace, though he held little hope that Cartwright\u2019s sons were still alive. There was no campfire, and not a single soul was moving.<\/p>\n The sheriff\u2019s hope was nothing to that rancher\u2019s faith, however. Ben Cartwright was off his mount the instant it had come to a stop. And this time it was the sheriff who hesitantly followed the rancher to where two men lay. Although they were propped against the wagon\u2019s foremost wheel rather than laid out side by side, they were likely as dead as those others the posse had left behind them. Still, the sheriff held his breath as the rancher knelt down next to the two young men, one of whom cradled the head of the other in his lap. That had to be Adam sitting there, watching over his young brother, Joe. The sheriff recognized the oldest\u2019s dark hair and clothes, and the youngest\u2019s tousled hair.<\/p>\n With one hand on Adam\u2019s shoulder and the other and Joe\u2019s arm, Ben Cartwright gently shook his oldest boy and called out to him sharply to, \u201cWake up, son! Adam? Do you hear me? Please son, it\u2019s time to wake up!\u201d<\/p>\n And, surprising, suddenly, the sheriff realized he was smiling when Adam began to respond, raising his head and mumbling something about faith.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n \u201cI can ride.\u201d Adam\u2019s voice pushed itself into Joe\u2019s thoughts.<\/p>\n It was another trick. Joe knew the desert was still teasing him with wishes that could never come true, impossible dreams that placed him back with his family \u2026 that made him believe he could ever get home.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease, Adam,\u201d Pa said next. \u201cGo in the wagon with Hoss. If \u2026 when he wakes up, I don\u2019t want him to find himself alone with that \u2026 that\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReverend,\u201d Adam provided. The word came out clipped. It sounded like \u2026 venom, and it was followed with a long, tired-sounding sigh that set Joe to wondering if there was a snake in the path ahead of him. \u201cSure,\u201d Adam went on as Joe tried to open his eyes to see both the path and the snake, \u201cif you put it that way \u2026 but \u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n Maybe the snake was behind him. Yeah, sure, it was behind him. He\u2019d dragged it halfway across the desert \u2026 a snake that pretended to be a reverend, a snake that—<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about Joe?\u201d Adam said, chasing all thoughts of snakes back into the dust.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe can ride with me.\u201d<\/p>\n I can ride<\/em>? No. the snake was just spewing more devil\u2019s dust. Joe\u2019s pa and brother weren\u2019t there. Joe couldn\u2019t allow himself to listen. It was just the desert trying to trick him again. He couldn\u2019t ride. He didn\u2019t have a horse. He had to keep walking, keep putting one foot in front of the other. But \u2026 was he<\/em>? Was he still walking?<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ll both be better off,\u201d Adam\u2019s voice said, \u201cif Joe rides in the wagon. He\u2019ll be dead weight. Both you and your horse will\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n Dead<\/em>? Joe wondered. Maybe that was why he couldn\u2019t open his eyes or feel himself walking across all that devil\u2019s dust anymore.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t you worry about me, young man. You just get into that wagon. The sooner you do, the sooner we can get all three of you boys to a doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n No, I don\u2019t need a doctor, Pa, not if I\u2019m already dead<\/em>.<\/p>\n \u201cHow many times do I have to tell you I\u2019m fine?\u201d Adam\u2019s shout fell like a slap in the dark.<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s muscles tensed, triggering pain in his knee \u2026 his shoulders \u2026 his throat. Was he supposed to feel pain if he was dead?<\/p>\n \u201cOh, you\u2019re fine<\/em>, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n Pa<\/em>? Joe said silently. It hurts, Pa. <\/em><\/p>\n But Pa couldn\u2019t hear him. He just kept talking. \u201cThen why was it so hard for me to wake you up when we got here? And what was it you were babbling about when you finally did wake up?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI wasn\u2019t babbling.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam? Babbling?<\/em> No, that didn\u2019t make sense.<\/p>\n \u201cYou couldn\u2019t put two cohesive words together.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause I had just woken up!\u201d Adam shouted again, and Joe tensed even more \u2026 and hurt even more.<\/p>\n Nothing was making sense. Joe had been in the desert. Why was he hearing his pa and brother shouting at one another? And why did he hurt if he was dead. And why \u2026 why was he starting to shiver?<\/p>\n \u201cStop fighting me on this, Adam. You\u2019ve been injured, whether you want to admit it or not.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d Adam said softly.<\/p>\n But Pa didn\u2019t hear him. \u201cI need to know that—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa!\u201d Adam shouted. \u201cIt\u2019s Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n Something \u2026 someone<\/em> kicked up a splash of devil\u2019s dust across Joe\u2019s hand \u2026 his cheek. \u201cJoseph?\u201d the voice of his pa rumbled. A blanket was draped over him, and then strong hands gripped Joe\u2019s shoulders. They were warm \u2026 familiar<\/em> hands.<\/p>\n Pa<\/em>? Joe felt his cracked lips scratching across the desert bleached bones of his teeth. He was so dry, so\u2026.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe, son, you\u2019re going to be fine, just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s eyelids were scratchy, too; and they didn\u2019t so much slide as scrape across his dry eyes when he forced them open. \u201cPa?\u201d But the word was a razor in his throat. It hurt like the devil coming out; and he couldn\u2019t help but close his eyes again.<\/p>\n \u201cHere, son.\u201d One of Pa\u2019s strong hands levered Joe up while the other pressed a canteen to his lips.<\/p>\n How could Joe go from Hell to Heaven so quickly? He decided it didn\u2019t matter and greedily drank down all that soothing moisture. He would have happily drowned in it if his pa didn\u2019t pull the canteen away again.<\/p>\n \u201cNot too much, now.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe scraped his eyelids open once more. He was almost afraid to look, afraid to unmask the illusion and find the devil beckoning him forever forward on his endless march through Hell, weighed down by the devil\u2019s own snake of a man he\u2019d never met before. But he did look. He had to look. And what he saw would have brought tears of joy to his eyes, if he\u2019d had any tears still within him.<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d This time the word had more substance, replacing razors with knives. But Joe didn\u2019t care. His pa was there. God had seen fit to give him another miracle. And as he pressed his face against his pa\u2019s firm shoulder, he reveled in the smell of home.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re all right now, Joseph. I promise you, everything\u2019s going to be just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n No, Joe decided. It wasn\u2019t going<\/em> to be fine. It already was<\/em> fine. Pa had chased the devil back to Hell.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Adam closed his eyes. He was grateful to realize they were nearing Carson City even as the sun was nearing its zenith. The heat and dry air were reawakening something akin to the headache he\u2019d endured the day before. It was not as debilitating — thank Heavens — but with Carson City so close, he was already starting to look forward to the feel of a soft pillow to help keep the worst of the pain at bay. He was also grateful to be on the wagon seat rather than trapped in its bed. He would have preferred the feel of the saddle beneath him to the rigid bench. Even so, he\u2019d been wrong to argue with his father before — not because riding would have been hard on him, but because his father had elected to drive the wagon himself. It felt oddly comfortable to have the entire family together in that wagon, trundling westward toward home.<\/p>\n Pressing aside a disquietingly skewed sense of d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu, he opened his eyes again and peeked through the canvas behind him. Both of his brothers looked miserable. Hoss lay stretched out with his head resting on the sack of flour. His face was flushed red and dripping with a steady flow of perspiration, and his chest rose and fell with deep, uneven breaths of the stagnant air. Joe didn\u2019t look much better, although, unlike Hoss, he was awake. Sitting propped against the water barrel, he kept his glazed and unfocused eyes locked on his middle brother.<\/p>\n \u201cYou should try to get some sleep, Joe,\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n Joe glanced at him, his own face looking redder than Hoss\u2019s and way too dry for Adam\u2019s liking. \u201cCan\u2019t,\u201d he breathed softly before returning his attention to Hoss.<\/p>\n \u201cCan\u2019t or won\u2019t?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan\u2019t.\u201d He dropped his chin in a weary attempt to point out the other man in the wagon.<\/p>\n Adam sighed in understanding. Reverend Smith hardly posed a threat. He was still and quiet, and apparently well on the road to meeting up with Saint Peter himself. But he was the cause of \u2026 all of it. Joe was as angry at him as he was hurting and worried.<\/p>\n Adam was worried, too, for both of his brothers. Hoss\u2019s wound was red and inflamed and getting worse by the hour. As for Joe, the boy\u2019s knee was swollen to twice its size, his face had as many bruises as blisters from the unforgiving sun and he was both dehydrated and dangerously feverish. Still, Adam\u2019s worry was tinged with hope. Hoss was the strongest man he had ever known. And God had been doling out a fair amount of Cartwright miracles in the hours since Adam and his brothers had invited that wretch of a reverend into their camp. One more, small miracle would get them to Carson City\u2019s doctor before Hoss\u2019s strength gave out and Joe succumbed to heat stroke. That shouldn\u2019t be too much to ask the divine being who\u2019d clearly been watching over them. After all, nothing short of a miracle could have kept Joe alive and moving despite his lack of water and the effects of the severe beating Reverend Smith\u2019s men had given him before his journey had even begun.<\/p>\n How Little Joe had walked for as long as he had before collapsing, particularly given the fact that he\u2019d ended up dragging Reverend Smith behind him, well\u2026. Yes, a miracle was the only explanation Adam could find.<\/p>\n Of course, in between all those miracles, Adam still had a role to play in caring for his brothers. \u201cAt least drink some water,\u201d he told his young brother.<\/p>\n When Joe looked at him again, he seemed puzzled. That was as bad of a sign as the fact that Joe wasn\u2019t sweating enough.<\/p>\n \u201cThe canteens are right next to you, Joe,\u201d Adam reminded him. \u201cTake a drink, and then get Hoss to—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhoa,\u201d Pa called out, pulling hard on the reins.<\/p>\n The action drew Adam\u2019s attention forward once more. \u201cWhy are you stopping?\u201d<\/p>\n Pa looked at him, his eyebrows raised. \u201cBecause you\u2019re right. We all need to take a rest and drink some water, especially the horses.\u201d His eyes moved to the wagon bed, making it clear that he, too, was concerned that Adam had had to remind Joe to drink when there were three full canteens sitting right next to him and his back was supported by a half-filled barrel of water.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Adam didn\u2019t bother trying to climb down from the wagon seat with his father. While his eyes assured him they weren\u2019t moving anymore, his equilibrium said differently. It felt as though the wagon was still rolling forward. Adam held little hope that having his feet on the ground would feel any different, and he doubted his legs would be particularly effective at keeping him upright. So he acquiesced when his father told him to stay where he was; and he watched quietly while his father attended to his brothers \u2026 and angrily while the sheriff attended to the reverend.<\/p>\n A few moments after the sheriff began to press water from a drenched cloth into the reverend\u2019s mouth, Adam saw signs of movement. The reverend\u2019s head began to bob ever so slightly. And then, \u201cNo<\/em>.\u201d The cry was soft and ragged. Several more drops of water lent strength to his next attempt. \u201cNot leave \u2026 my \u2026 soul.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHold still!\u201d the sheriff demanded. \u201cAin\u2019t no use talkin\u2019 right now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot leave my \u2026 soul \u2026 in Hell.\u201d<\/p>\n The words, whispered though they were, pulled Pa from where he\u2019d been hovering over Hoss.<\/p>\n \u201cShow me,\u201d the reverend went on, dribbling the sheriff\u2019s gift of water as though he didn\u2019t care to drink it, \u201cthe path \u2026 of life\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSuit yourself.\u201d The sheriff threw down the cloth and jumped from the wagon bed, leaving more room for Pa.<\/p>\n Adam saw rage flare up in his father\u2019s eyes when the reverend uttered more words from an increasingly familiar psalm. \u201cAt thy right hand \u2026 pleasures \u2026 forevermore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow dare you!\u201d Pa challenged, his voice booming enough to make Hoss begin to stir and cause the reverend to open his eyes. \u201cHow dare you demand the pleasures of Heaven!\u201d<\/p>\n Reverend Smith\u2019s clouded eyes grew wide. One hand rose weakly toward Pa. \u201cThe Lord \u2026 my God \u2026. In thee \u2026 my trust\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTrust?\u201d Pa shouted back. \u201cYou put my sons through Hell because you had no trust! No faith!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThy son \u2026 died for \u2026 for my sins.\u201d The reverend\u2019s hand hovered in the air between Pa\u2019s chest and his own. \u201cThou art \u2026 my Lord\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStop that, damn you!\u201d Adam felt his own eyes widen at his father\u2019s choice of words. \u201cYou have no cause to recite the Bible to me when its words so clearly have no meaning to you!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe words \u2026 your words\u2026. Thou art my Lord.\u201d<\/p>\n And suddenly Adam realized what that reverend thought he was seeing \u2026 or rather, whom. The white hair, dark brows and eyes blazing with a fury that had caused as many men as boys to stutter and step nervously backward\u2026.<\/p>\n \u201cPa,\u201d Adam said softly just as his father\u2019s mouth was coming open to lash out at the reverend once more. He waited until he met those blazing eyes before adding, \u201cHe thinks you\u2019re\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t care what he thinks!\u201d Pa shouted. \u201cThis man expects to be welcomed into Heaven with open arms and showered with Heavenly pleasures, yet look what he\u2019s done to you, to all three of you!\u201d he added loudly, arousing Hoss and sweeping a glassy-eyed Little Joe into the conversation. \u201cHe told you he was a man of God, but that\u2019s absurd! He has no faith! His lack of faith brought harm to my sons. Our Father in Heaven would never—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHallowed<\/em> be Thy name\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d Pa rumbled then. \u201cPray. Pray long and hard that—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThy kingdom come\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa, I think he thinks you\u2019re—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGod,\u201d Joe said, surprising Adam to have such keen perception when he\u2019d had to be told to take a drink of water — especially when Pa, himself, had failed to recognize the rapt expression in the reverend\u2019s fevered eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d Pa asked breathily, clearly taken aback.<\/p>\n \u201cThy will be done\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam lifted one eyebrow as the reverend tried — and failed — to raise his hand further.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy, that\u2019s even more absurd than—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOn Earth as \u2026 in H-Heaven\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa looked back at the reverend.<\/p>\n \u201cGive us this day \u2026 our \u2026 daily bread\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d Pa shook his head, dismissing what two of his sons had told him. But Adam saw the reverend\u2019s awe grow into horror; and he knew the reverend believed his God was refusing him succor.<\/p>\n \u201cForgive!\u201d the reverend rasped, his eyes furrowed in desperation. \u201cForgive \u2026 transgressions\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n Disturbed, Adam\u2019s father turned away, giving his attention back to Hoss, who\u2019d been watching with a peculiarly rapt expression of his own. The dismissal left the reverend crying. And that, Adam noticed, soothed the anger in Little Joe. Adam\u2019s little brother finally relaxed enough to take a sip of water, settle back and allow his eyes to drift closed.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n 6<\/strong><\/p>\n Hours passed, days even, but they were all jumbled together in Ben\u2019s thoughts. He could barely comprehend where one ended and another began. He knew only that he was bone-weary and \u2026 lost<\/em>. Yes, lost. He didn\u2019t know quite why, or even how. He knew only that he felt a sense of displacement or \u2026 disconnection.<\/p>\n Just tired<\/em>, he told himself. When had he last slept? Or eaten? He couldn\u2019t really remember. It was almost as though he was just beginning to emerge from a dream — a nightmare<\/em> that filled his head with muddled moments \u2026 arriving in Carson City \u2026 giving his sons over to the care of the local doctor \u2026 settling back into the hotel with Adam, and then anxiously dividing his time between the hotel and the doctor\u2019s clinic where his two youngest sons needed more care than his oldest \u2026.<\/p>\n Yes, he was tired. And suddenly he found himself standing on a street corner, unsure which of his sons he had just left behind him and which he was trying to reach. He closed his eyes, filled his lungs, and then looked to what lie ahead of him. He swept his gaze out past the wagons and horses and the endless clouds of sandy dust from their passing, to focus further eastward, toward the heart of the desert. He could almost believe he was waiting once more for his sons to return, as though he could erase what had happened.<\/p>\n \u201cYou can go inside, if you\u2019d like,\u201d a man said, coming up beside him. Smiling warmly, the man nodded in response to Ben\u2019s bewildered expression. \u201cThe church is always open.\u201d<\/p>\n Following the man\u2019s gesture, Ben saw that a white building with a tall steeple lay directly in his path. \u201cNo,\u201d he answered dismissively. \u201cThank you, reverend,\u201d he added, noting the man\u2019s collar. \u201cI was just \u2026 on my way to \u2026.\u201d To where? He still wasn\u2019t quite sure.<\/p>\n \u201cYou look like a man who could use a cup of coffee \u2026 and perhaps a bit of friendly conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben shook his head. \u201cNo,\u201d he said again. \u201cMy sons\u2026. I need to \u2026 look after them.\u201d Gazing about him once more, he finally began to get his bearings. \u201cAdam,\u201d he said as much to himself as to the reverend. \u201cAdam should be waking up soon.\u201d<\/p>\n The reverend\u2019s brows rose. \u201cAdam?\u201d he asked. At Ben\u2019s absent nod, he added, \u201cI presume you are Mister Ben Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n Startled, Ben finally gave his full attention to the reverend. \u201cHow do you know me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe sheriff told me about what happened out there.\u201d He indicated toward the desert. \u201cIn fact, I\u2019ve just come from the jail, where I had a rather lengthy if fragmented conversation with the reverend Smith.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben scowled. \u201cReverend? He is no more a man of God than \u2026 than—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDoubting Thomas, perhaps?\u201d<\/p>\n Grunting in only partial agreement, Ben turned his thoughts once more to his sons. \u201cExcuse me,\u201d he added, \u201cI should see how my son is doing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI understand he suffered a concussion but is healing nicely.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Ben repeated.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd your other sons are also on the road to renewed health.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben nodded once more. \u201cExcuse me, reverend, but—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHave faith, Mister Cartwright. From what I\u2019ve heard of their experiences out there, I have faith that they have all been well looked after, right from their first encounter with Smith and his followers. I think, in your heart, you, also, have such faith.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFaith?\u201d Ben countered angrily. \u201cThat man of God, that \u2026 that scoundrel who calls himself a reverend \u2026 he tortured my sons because of his own lack of faith!\u201d<\/p>\n The reverend nodded. \u201cLike Thomas in some ways.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow can a man of God have no faith?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThomas also thought himself a man of God. Did he not?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s scowl deepened.<\/p>\n \u201cThere are men of God and men of faith, Mister Cartwright. Unfortunately, the two don\u2019t always intersect. A good reverend or pastor, or a rabbi for that matter, lives by and teaches the word of God and has faith in both God and mankind. After all, mankind was made in His image. Those who don\u2019t have faith, like our Reverend Smith, are more inclined to cast judgment than to trust in the judgment of God. They spout words that are often based more on their own interpretations of the Bible than on what it actually says. And \u2026 they press God to show them miracles they\u2019re too blind to see.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d Ben demanded to know. \u201cWhy did he have to use my sons to find his miracle?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause the miracle with which your son was blessed last year was profound, far more profound than anything Mister Smith had encountered in a lifetime filled with torment. He was desperate to prove that his faith had not been displaced for all these years.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou sound as though you approve of what he did!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, of course not. But it is not my approval that matters. It is only for God to pass judgment, not I \u2026 nor you<\/em>, Mister Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMe?\u201d<\/p>\n The reverend nodded. \u201cYou blame Reverend Smith for the harm done to your sons. That blame is understandable, perhaps even justified. But \u2026 don\u2019t hate him for his own lack of faith. Pity him, but don\u2019t hate him. Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed. You have been blessed. Pray for him, that he, too, can be so blessed.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPray for him? After what he did to my sons, you expect me to pray for him?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe thought you were God, Mister Cartwright. Did you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExcuse me, Reverend.\u201d Ben tried to step forward, but the reverend took hold of his arm. It wasn\u2019t the man\u2019s strength that held him back, however. His grip was gentle, more asking than demanding that Ben remain.<\/p>\n \u201cHe thought you were God. He now fears for his immortal soul. He knows that he was wrong to use your son to prove his own faith. He has confessed his sins. He now spends his lucid hours — of which there are few — begging for forgiveness.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou can\u2019t expect me to forgive a man who tried to kill my sons!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe didn\u2019t try to kill your sons. He used<\/em> your sons, yes. He even put them in danger and was directly responsible for the harm done to them. But he did not try to kill them. What he tried to do was validate his own faith.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOnce again, you sound as though you believe his actions were justified!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat I believe, Mister Cartwright, is that he tested his faith, and now your own faith is being tested.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy<\/em> faith?\u201d<\/p>\n The reverend nodded. \u201cYou\u2019re tired, are you not?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course, I\u2019m tired! I\u2019ve been—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve been looking after your sons and paying no heed to your own wellbeing. It is time for you to have faith enough to see to your own needs. After all, God helps those who help themselves. Part of looking after your own wellbeing means letting go of your fear and your hate.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut he \u2026 he almost killed my sons.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe did not succeed. If thy brother trespass against thee, rebuke him; and if he repent, forgive him. The reverend Smith trespassed heartily against you and your sons. But he is trying to repent. Put him — and yourself — in God\u2019s hands. And rest easy, Mister Cartwright. There are no better hands in which to place your faith.\u201d<\/p>\n By the time Ben finally moved away, he felt more contemplative than confused \u2026 and more tired than weary. Had the reverend — whose name Ben hadn\u2019t managed to learn — eased his troubled thoughts or merely exhausted him beyond any ability to think at all?<\/p>\n Somehow, it didn\u2019t matter. Maybe he was just too tired to care.<\/p>\n He was numb when he reached the hotel, feeling neither anger nor fear. And then he opened the door to the room, and his numbness was chased away with relief at finding his oldest son awake, partially dressed and shaving.<\/p>\n \u201cWell,\u201d Ben said, smiling, \u201cyou\u2019re certainly looking better.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m feeling better,\u201d Adam answered. \u201cThought I\u2019d go over and see how Hoss and Joe are doing.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben closed his eyes and sighed, prompting Adam to utter a worried, \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, nothing,\u201d Ben answered quickly. \u201cNothing\u2019s wrong. Not anymore. Hoss\u2019s fever has finally broken and Joe\u2019s anxious to get home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMake that two of us.\u201d Adam splashed his face with water.<\/p>\n \u201cMake that all of us!\u201d Ben tossed his hat toward the rack by the door, but missed the peg. Sighing again, he stared at the hat where it lay on the floor until Adam squatted down to pick it up, swaying slightly as he rose. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, son. You didn\u2019t have to do that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou look worn out, Pa. Why don\u2019t you get some sleep?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d Ben scoffed. \u201cBut you—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m fine, too.\u201d Adam smiled. \u201cFiner than you right now. Get some sleep. Then later we can have some of that roast beef Mary\u2019s been telling me about.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMary?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s smile became a grin. \u201cMary Rayburn. She brought the fresh towels.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, can you imagine that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cImagine what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve been staying in this hotel for well over a week now, and the only person I\u2019ve managed to meet is that Mister Dougherty at the reception desk. As far as I knew, he ran this entire hotel by himself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve been a bit preoccupied.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI suppose I have at that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGet some sleep, Pa. I\u2019ll wake you for supper.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI should thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor finding us out there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t do it alone.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, you and the sheriff and his posse.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s not who I meant.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam studied him for a moment before recognition dawned in his eyes and he nodded.<\/p>\n Moments later, Ben lay down atop the bed covers and his oldest son began humming a familiar hymn. As the unsung words drifted through his mind, Ben realized that the sense of disconnection he\u2019d felt outside the church had vanished. He felt \u2026 complete.<\/p>\n I once was lost, but now am found; was blind, but now I see.<\/em><\/p>\n Yes, something had changed, something profound enough to cause him to wonder at the astute wisdom of Carson City\u2019s local man of God. And before he allowed himself to drift off to sleep, Ben Cartwright issued up not only a solemn prayer of thanks for returning his sons to health, but also a prayer for the conscience and the soul of the man who\u2019d come so close to taking those very sons away from him \u2026 a man whose fevered fear Ben had both noticed and shunned out of his own concern \u2026 his own fear \u2026 for his sons.<\/p>\n \u2018Twas Grace that taught my heart to fear, XxXxX<\/p>\n 7<\/strong><\/p>\n Hoss awoke from a light doze. A breeze was brushing his cheek, a cool<\/em> breeze, so unlike the desert heat he\u2019d come to expect. He wasn\u2019t in the desert anymore. Nor was he in Carson City. No, as he came back to his senses, he realized he was on his way home, seated in the back seat of a rented buggy. Little Joe sat right beside him, while Pa was up front, driving the team. Yep. They were all on their way home.<\/p>\n As the breeze pushed at his hair, Hoss could almost believe it was a kiss from Heaven itself. Smiling, he filled his lungs with air so clean and pure it even tasted like Heaven while it soothed his raw, dry nose with the scent of pine.<\/p>\n He opened his eyes to find the buggy rolling down the road in the heart of Ponderosa pine country. \u201cSmell that, Joe,\u201d he said, slapping his brother\u2019s thigh, and then uttering a quick, \u201csorry,\u201d when the boy shouted in complaint about jostling his sore hip and bad knee. Hoss felt too giddy to let guilt or worry creep in. He\u2019d done enough worrying in the desert. They all had.<\/p>\n \u201cWhoa!\u201d Pa called out then, reining in the two-horse team.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, Pa? What\u2019cha stopping for?\u201d Hoss asked. \u201cWe\u2019re close enough to home I can almost smell Hop Sing\u2019s apple pie!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe may be close, but we\u2019re not quite close enough. The horses need to rest. And frankly, so do I.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss watched his pa\u2019s eyes land on Joe and then stray outward to Adam, who was riding his own horse and leading his family\u2019s horses in tow. Hoss looked at Adam, too, then. It wasn\u2019t often he could tell what might be going on in his older brother\u2019s mind, but he knew pain when he saw it. And at that moment he could tell Adam was hurting; he also looked mighty tired.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d just as soon press on,\u201d Adam said as he came up alongside the buggy, \u201cif you don\u2019t mind.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do mind,\u201d Pa answered gruffly. \u201cYou need rest, too, even if you refuse to admit it.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s jaw tightened. \u201cI\u2019ll rest when I get home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLet Adam and I switch,\u201d Joe added. \u201cHe can take this squeaky buggy seat and get all kinds of rest, long as Hoss here doesn\u2019t squeeze him out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd just what do you plan to do?\u201d Adam asked pointedly.<\/p>\n \u201cRide,\u201d Joe answered with equal vigor.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be ridiculous, Joe,\u201d Adam countered. \u201cThat knee of yours is—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI walked halfway across the desert with this—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAll the more reason you need to rest it, now!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI could ride just fine!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBoys!\u201d Pa hollered. \u201cWhy in Heaven\u2019s name are you arguing? After all you\u2019ve been through together, I should think arguing would be the last thing you\u2019d want to do!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re not arguing.\u201d Sighing, Adam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. \u201cWe\u2019re just—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re not?\u201d Joe interrupted.<\/p>\n Adam looked at him. \u201cWell, I\u2019m<\/em> not.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCould\u2019ve fooled me!\u201d<\/p>\n Pa looked as disappointed as Hoss felt. \u201cHey, Joe.\u201d Hoss tapped his little brother — on the arm this time — hoping to pull Joe\u2019s attention away from whatever it was that had him so all fired up. \u201cI think there\u2019s some of them cookies left in that basket the reverend gave us.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s eyes blazed back at him with a look that triggered a cold feeling in Hoss\u2019s stomach.<\/p>\n \u201cReilley<\/em>, Joe,\u201d Adam explained, his voice a whole lot softer than it had been a moment before. \u201cReverend Reilley<\/em>, from the church in Carson City.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJoseph\u2026.\u201d Pa\u2019s voice was equally soft. \u201cIt\u2019s all right to be angry about what happened, but don\u2019t take that anger out on your brothers.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI ain\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen why are you shouting?\u201d Pa asked.<\/p>\n \u201cBecause<\/em>! B…because I\u2019m mad!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAt your brothers?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo! Of course not!\u201d<\/p>\n Pa\u2019s brows rose up. \u201cAre you angry with me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAt you?\u201d Joe was the one who looked startled then. \u201cPa\u2026. No. I got no reason to\u2026.\u201d Taking a deep breath, he let his shoulders sag. \u201cNo, Pa,\u201d he added quietly. \u201cI\u2019m not angry with you.\u201d And suddenly he seemed more sad than angry.<\/p>\n Hoss felt bad for him. \u201cAw, Joe\u2019s just wore out, is all. The way this buggy\u2019s bouncin\u2019 around, I\u2019m sure that knee of his is—\u201d<\/p>\n And suddenly Joe was angry again. \u201cCut it out, Hoss! It ain\u2019t my knee that\u2019s botherin\u2019 me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen what is it?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/p>\n Joe glanced from his brothers to his father and back again. His eyes held so many different emotions, Hoss couldn\u2019t quite tell whether he was mad or sad, or maybe even afraid. After a moment Joe shook his head. \u201cIt don\u2019t matter,\u201d he said softly before forcing a small smile. \u201cThat\u2019s a good idea about the cookies, Hoss.\u201d Then he reached toward the side of the buggy, like he was aiming to get out.<\/p>\n \u201cWait, Joe,\u201d Pa said. \u201cLet me give you a hand.\u201d<\/p>\n But Adam beat him to it. \u201cIt\u2019s all right, Pa,\u201d he offered, dismounting. \u201cI\u2019ve got him.\u201d<\/p>\n And then Joe got angry all over again. \u201cI don\u2019t need help!\u201d He swatted Adam\u2019s hand away and determinedly hopped to the ground, quickly grabbing the side of the buggy for support when that hopping jostled his knee a whole lot more than Hoss had a moment earlier.<\/p>\n Adam was just as quick to take hold of Joe\u2019s arm. \u201cHoss? Can you hand me that cane the doctor gave him?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe wasn\u2019t having it. He wasn\u2019t having any of it. \u201cStop it!\u201d He shook himself loose of Adam. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you all just stop?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStop what?\u201d Adam asked.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re just tryin\u2019 to help ya\u2019,\u201d Hoss added.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah? Well what about you? You\u2019re not in any better shape than me! They could have killed you, Hoss! They almost did! Adam, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey didn\u2019t succeed,\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n \u201cThat don\u2019t change the fact you both almost died out there. If I hadn\u2019t been with you, they would have left you alone.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs that what you\u2019re angry about?\u201d Adam asked. \u201cYou\u2019re blaming yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt weren\u2019t your fault, Joe,\u201d Hoss said then. \u201cYou ought to know that.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe just looked at his brothers, the pull of his brow making it clear he didn\u2019t<\/em> know, not really.<\/p>\n Adam picked up on that, too. \u201cIf you\u2019re so eager to blame someone other than the reverend<\/em> Smith, go ahead and blame me. I\u2019m the one who let them into our camp.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, come on, Adam!\u201d Joe said finally. \u201cNone of this was your fault!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt certainly wasn\u2019t yours.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know. I know<\/em> that! I just\u2026. I don\u2019t know. Forget it.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa\u2019s eyes were on Joe, just like Hoss\u2019s and Adam\u2019s. \u201cCan you, son?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe looked away from all of them. \u201cIt don\u2019t matter.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt does matter, Joseph. You\u2019re angry over what\u2019s happened. We all are. But justice will be served. Two men are dead, and the others are going back to prison.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s what doesn\u2019t matter, Pa,\u201d Joe answered, keeping his head down. \u201cI just keep\u2026.\u201d He took a deep breath and looked at Pa again. \u201cI keep wishing it had never happened. I wish I\u2019d stayed home. If I hadn\u2019t ridden out to that fort with Adam and Hoss, the reverend wouldn\u2019t have bothered them and they wouldn\u2019t have been hurt. I even wish I\u2019d never stopped to help that man out there last year.\u201d Joe got rigid then, real rigid. \u201cBut God knows it doesn\u2019t make any difference what we wish for, does it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJoseph\u2026,\u201d Pa started.<\/p>\n Joe didn\u2019t seem to hear him. \u201cWishes couldn\u2019t bring my mother back, and they sure couldn\u2019t make it so that son of a bitch didn\u2019t shoot me last year!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJoseph! Keep a civil tongue!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy<\/em>? Why, Pa? Keepin\u2019 a civil tongue won\u2019t change anything. Bad things happen no matter how civil<\/em> we are. All I did was try to help someone, and what did it get me? A bullet hole and a bunch of fellas chasing miracles who almost killed my brothers on account of it!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe one they almost killed outright was you<\/em>, Joe,\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n Hoss nodded. \u201cIt sure was a good thing God saw fit to give us another one of them miracles.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sick of miracles!\u201d Joe hollered back.<\/p>\n Hoss tensed, expecting his pa to get angry. But Pa just looked \u2026 sad. \u201cWell, I for one am grateful for them, Joseph, if miracles are what kept you and your brothers alive.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam saw it differently. \u201cWould it make you feel any better if we stopped referring to any of what happened as miraculous? Good fortune doesn\u2019t always require divine intervention.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGood fortune?\u201d Joe countered. \u201cGood fortune would have had us never meeting up with Reverend Smith. I don\u2019t care what you call it, Adam.\u00a0 Good fortune, miracles or the luck of the draw, for that matter. God could have stopped that reverend. He could have stopped all of it. But He didn\u2019t. All He did, all He ever does is \u2026 sometimes<\/em>, if He feels like it \u2026 help out after bad things happen. Why doesn\u2019t He just stop those bad things from happening?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJoe?\u201d Hoss asked hesitantly, uncomfortable about what he was hearing. \u201cAre you mad at \u2026 at God?\u201d<\/p>\n The look Joe gave him, his eyes shifting from sad to guilt-ridden, provided the answer Hoss had expected. Hoss didn\u2019t quite know what to do or say to help his little brother past those feelings.<\/p>\n But Adam sure did. He put his hand on Joe\u2019s shoulder, offering a different kind of support this time, a kind Joe wasn\u2019t as quick to push away. \u201cDon\u2019t blame God, Joe. It\u2019s easy to do.\u201d He took a long breath, glancing at Pa and Hoss as he did. \u201cI imagine we\u2019ve all done it a time or two. But there\u2019s no point<\/em> to it.\u201d Adam\u2019s jaw tightened and his eyes grew dark, but just for a second. It was so quick Hoss could almost believe he hadn\u2019t seen it at all. But he knew better, because he knew Adam. Hoss\u2019s older brother was hurting, all right, except there was more hurt inside than out.<\/p>\n \u201cLook, Joe,\u201d Adam said next, his own hurt tucked down deep again, \u201cthere was nothing of the divine involved with what that reverend orchestrated in that desert.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut He could have stopped it, Adam. God could have stopped all of it from happening.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. He couldn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe shrugged out from under Adam\u2019s grip. \u201cOf course He could! He can do anything!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExcept<\/em> interfere with free will,\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n \u201cHe should,\u201d Joe countered quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cIf He did \u2026 well \u2026 it wouldn\u2019t exactly be free, would it? No one would ever do anything bad. There would be no need for prisons or sheriffs or judges.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOr guns,\u201d Joe added, absently stroking his abdomen where the bullet had pierced him a year earlier.<\/p>\n \u201cOr guns,\u201d Adam repeated, quirking his lips into a small, sad looking smile. \u201cFace it, Joe. This isn\u2019t Eden. All we can do is be civil and ethical, and do unto others as we would have them do unto us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd pray,\u201d Pa added, \u201cfor divine intervention when we need it; and then either appreciate it when those prayers are answered, or \u2026 accept God\u2019s will when they\u2019re not.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI did, Pa,\u201d Joe said. \u201cI did appreciate it when I realized you\u2019d come, when you found me \u2026 us<\/em>,\u201d he corrected, glancing at his brothers. \u201cBut then\u2026. I don\u2019t know. Maybe it was all that devil\u2019s dust I swallowed out there. But when I realized how sick Hoss was back at that doctor\u2019s, and when Adam didn\u2019t show up and you kept telling me he was sleeping\u2026. I got worried all over again. And now that we\u2019re heading home, it\u2019s like \u2026 like none of it\u2019s supposed to matter anymore. Like we can just ride away and pretend it never happened.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, son. I don\u2019t expect that any of us could ignore what happened. But we do have to put it behind us. We can\u2019t let our anger \u2026 or<\/em> our fears consume us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow, Pa? How do I put it behind me when \u2026 when it\u2019s all bound to start all over again?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is, son?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAll those strangers \u2026 all those people who came looking for miracles last year.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat won\u2019t happen this time,\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy wouldn\u2019t it? Once people find out about—\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey won\u2019t,\u201d Pa answered. \u201cThe only story the newspaper printed was about a robbery \u2026 about a group of ex-convicts who set out to steal the Army\u2019s payment for those horses.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe didn\u2019t look convinced. \u201cRumors will start soon enough.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf they do,\u201d Pa said, \u201cwe will deal with them, together. You\u2019re not alone in this, son.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut how \u2026 how do I\u2026.\u201d Joe shook his head.<\/p>\n Pa put his hand around Joe\u2019s shoulders and turned him slightly. \u201cLook there, son. What do you see?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTrees.\u201d Joe looked as puzzled as Hoss felt. \u201cThe road\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd where does that road lead?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHome.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa nodded. \u201cThe closer we get to home, the further we put all that devil\u2019s dust you keep talking about behind us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSon, every step forward will put what happened out in that desert further and further behind you. You won\u2019t forget. None of us will. But the rawness will fade, given time.\u201d Pa\u2019s free hand balled into a fist, making it clear it would be a long, long time before any of his own rawness managed to fade.<\/p>\n \u201cEvery step forward\u2026,\u201d Joe repeated in a whisper.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/p>\n Joe looked up at him, and then returned his attention to Pa. \u201cWhen I was out in that desert, I couldn\u2019t let myself think about anything else, anything other than putting one foot in front of the other.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s a start,\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n Something passed between the two of them then, something Hoss couldn\u2019t quite follow. Whatever it was, it seemed to ease the lines around Joe\u2019s eyes. The boy even gave Adam the trace of a smile after a moment. \u201cIs that really all there is to it?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss wasn\u2019t too sure whether Joe was asking Pa or Adam, but it was Adam who answered. \u201cNo. That\u2019s another thing about free will.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa nodded knowingly. \u201cWe all have to find our own way through all the devil\u2019s dust that clogs our path.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss exchanged puzzled looks with Joe before asking, \u201cYou, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhen Joseph\u2019s mother died, I swallowed a belly full of that dust myself. I asked the same questions that Joe\u2019s been asking. How could a loving God allow such a terrible thing to happen? But you and your brothers helped me to \u2026 well, to put such questions behind me, to put my trust in God\u2019s purpose, whatever that purpose may be, and to move forward, putting one foot in front of the other until I could appreciate that even small miracles can provide enough light to help me see through whatever darkness — or devil\u2019s dust — might get in my way. As for the larger miracles, like the ones that might well have kept all three of you alive out there, well, I am more than appreciative. I am blessed, just as you are, all three of you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d Hoss asked after a moment. \u201cI\u2019ve been thinking, and, well\u2026. Ya\u2019 think maybe God\u2019s purpose back there in that desert had more to do with the reverend than Little Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n Pa stiffened, and his eyes went dark just like Adam\u2019s had. \u201cWhatever God\u2019s purpose was with that reverend, it is not for me or any of us to judge.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know, that. But that reverend, he \u2026 well \u2026 when he saw you back in that wagon, he thought you were God.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be ridiculous. He was delirious.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDelirium or not,\u201d Adam said, \u201che did think you were God.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe did, Pa,\u201d Hoss went on. \u201cYou know he did. And when he saw how angry you were at him, he knew exactly why. He knew he done wrong. He knew it and he was sorry for it.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam scrunched down his brows. \u201cHe was sorry for it only because he was scared.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cScared of making God angry?\u201d Joe asked. \u201cOr scared of Pa?\u201d Hoss was surprised to see a trace of his little brother\u2019s grin. But he knew Little Joe even better than he knew Adam. Joe wasn\u2019t fooling him with that smile. He was nervous and trying to hide it.<\/p>\n \u201cMister<\/em> Smith,\u201d Adam answered, \u201cwas scared of being denied a place in Heaven.\u201d<\/p>\n Then Pa got about as angry as he\u2019d been back in that wagon. \u201cHe should<\/em> be afraid! If he\u2019d had any faith, he would never have tried to use Joe to \u2026 to\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFind the faith he\u2019d lost?\u201d Adam finished while Pa was still struggling for the right word.<\/p>\n Pa\u2019s eyes narrowed. \u201cDon\u2019t tell me you\u2019re starting to feel sorry for that blaggard!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot sorry, no. But I can certainly see why he would be afraid. He used Joe to force God\u2019s hand. And he got more than he bargained for.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe didn\u2019t get enough if you ask me,\u201d Joe said softly.<\/p>\n Adam nodded. \u201cI happen to agree. But it\u2019s over; and he\u2019s going back to prison.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd,\u201d Hoss added, \u201che\u2019s a whole lot more God-fearin\u2019 than he was before.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe scrunched up his eyes at Hoss. \u201cYou think he \u2026 repented?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think maybe \u2026 maybe he did. He went out there lookin\u2019 for your miracle. But \u2026 maybe he got one of his own. Maybe what happened out there was God\u2019s way of savin\u2019 that reverend\u2019s soul.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe didn\u2019t look too happy about that. \u201cAm I a bad person to wish he was past savin\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n But Pa didn\u2019t look upset at all. \u201cI\u2019d say you\u2019re an honest person, son. Still\u2026.\u201d He took a deep breath. \u201cIt would do us all<\/em> good to remember something from our prayers. How often do we ask God to forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHave you forgiven him, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n Pa looked at all three of them with dark eyes that said he hadn\u2019t, and he wasn\u2019t bound to any time soon. \u201cNo,\u201d he admitted. \u201cBut I am trying.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam thumbed the brim of his hat. \u201cI think that\u2019s all any of us can do, right now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReckon it\u2019s enough?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/p>\n \u201cI reckon it has to be.\u201d Adam answered before turning to Joe again. \u201cNow, how about letting us help you get off of that knee, Little Joe?\u201d And just like that he pushed Pa\u2019s rawness and Joe\u2019s devil\u2019s dust deep down inside him again.<\/p>\n \u201cI reckon that\u2019s probably a good idea,\u201d Joe answered, his own eyes still raw, but his grin a bit wider than it had been.<\/p>\n Then Hoss felt another Heavenly breeze. \u201cYeah. I reckon maybe it is enough, at that.\u201d Because, like Adam said, it had to be.<\/p>\n Hoss liked to think that maybe Reverend Smith had found redemption through a miracle he hadn\u2019t deserved. But at the same time he liked to think about that man being locked behind thick iron bars and impenetrable concrete walls. Forgiveness didn\u2019t come easy.<\/p>\n As Hoss watched Joe limping away between Pa and Adam, he couldn\u2019t help but remember the way Joe had looked when they\u2019d found him in that desert, half dead. No. Forgiveness didn\u2019t come easy, at all. But, like Pa, Hoss was willing to try. That would certainly have to do.<\/p>\n With a wink shared between no one but him and God, Hoss used his good arm to lever himself up out of the buggy, and then turned his attention to the basket Reverend William Maxwell Reilley had given them on behalf of the ladies\u2019 auxiliary, \u201cFor the unfortunate victims of the wretched souls<\/em>\u201d the ladies had been relieved to know were locked up tight in the Carson City jail.<\/p>\n Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, XxXxX<\/p>\n Epilogue<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n Yeah, most folks call me the preacher. I reckon I don\u2019t \u2026 don\u2019t have no other name no more, anyhow. Whatever I was \u2026 or who \u2026 whoever I was back a\u2019fore I shot that fella in the desert \u2026 well, that part of me don\u2019t\u2026. That part of me died out there.<\/p>\n Yeah. I died out in all that devil\u2019s dust. But you \u2026 you\u2019re still dyin\u2019. Your eyes \u2026 it\u2019s \u2026 you\u2019re a\u2019fear\u2019d of dyin\u2019. I reckon maybe that\u2019s what\u2019s different \u2018tween you and me. I ain\u2019t a\u2019fear\u2019d. God saved me out there \u2026 saved us both, that fella and me. He didn\u2019t save you though, did He? No. Not \u2026 not in the way what matters.<\/p>\n I ain\u2019t never called myself no preacher, but \u2026 I guess that\u2019s what I am. An\u2019 you \u2026 you called yourself a reverend, but you ain\u2019t. Maybe \u2026 maybe it\u2019s God\u2019s callin\u2019 that matters. Maybe\u2026.<\/p>\n So now, I\u2019m \u2026 I guess I\u2019m the preacher. \u2018Cause He called and I \u2026 I heard Him. But you \u2026 you called Him. An\u2019 it don\u2019t \u2026. It don\u2019t work that way.<\/p>\n You thought your words mattered more\u2019n His, didn\u2019t ya\u2019?<\/p>\n \u2018Course ya\u2019 did. You\u2019re lyin\u2019 to yourself, you know. Just \u2026 just yourself. Can\u2019t lie to God. He hears through your lies just fine.<\/p>\n You think you saw Him? Think you saw God out there? Eyes a\u2019blazin\u2019 fire? Ya\u2019 sure it weren\u2019t the devil? Yeah, okay. Maybe it was God, then. But ya\u2019 angered Him. That\u2019s what happened. It\u2019s like I said, you don\u2019t call God, it\u2019s Him calls you. But you were deaf. Deaf and blind, too.<\/p>\n You ought to be scared … ought to be a\u2019fear\u2019d. You owe God. An\u2019 that fella, too. All of \u2018em, I reckon, the one in reaper black and that barrel chested fella, too. You tricked \u2018em. It\u2019s the devil that tricks folks. God don\u2019t work that way. You tricked \u2018em.<\/p>\n I reckon these walls is where you belong. Ought never to be nowhere else. Maybe \u2026 maybe if you\u2019re lucky, or if \u2026 if you can start hearin\u2019 God for a change \u2026 maybe ya\u2019 spend your breathin\u2019 days here, then He\u2019ll take ya\u2019 home when it\u2019s time. Won\u2019t need Purgatory. Maybe.<\/p>\n Me? Oh, sure. I reckon I could leave, in time. Warden said \u2026. He said my sentence \u2026 my crime against man \u2026 against that man out in that desert \u2026 my crime weren\u2019t a sin. Said my head was addled. I weren\u2019t right in \u2026 in the head. And my crime weren\u2019t \u2026 weren\u2019t a sin. But I know better. Me and God, we know better. I let the devil in, is what I done. I let him in. Swallowed him up whole. And I can still feel him. He like to choke me most days. It\u2019s that Holy light saves me. Saves me ever\u2019 day. Streamin\u2019 in through them bars up yonder. It\u2019s that \u2026 that Holy light.<\/p>\n Sure, I\u2019m a\u2019fear\u2019d. If I walk out a\u2019here, that Holy light won\u2019t look the same \u2026 won\u2019t feel the same. I might choke once and for all. Can\u2019t let that happen. No, sir. Devil\u2019s out there. Holy light\u2019s in here. No. I ain\u2019t leavin\u2019. Warden knows I belong here.<\/p>\n I let the devil in. Swallowed up all that devil\u2019s dust.<\/p>\n Ashes to ashes \u2026 dust to dust. That\u2019s me. Preacher made of dust.<\/p>\n But you\u2026. What are you? I ain\u2019t so sure.<\/p>\n Might be your kind put that dust there to begin with. Might be you didn\u2019t swallow that dust. It weren\u2019t the dust that turned you. No, it weren\u2019t the dust. It was you churned up the dust. It was you.<\/p>\n It was you, weren\u2019t it?<\/p>\n You. You\u2019re the devil. The devil\u2026.<\/p>\n It\u2019s you been chokin\u2019 me all this time!<\/p>\n It\u2019s you what put that bullet in that fella! It\u2019s you what took his gun! You what pulled that trigger!<\/p>\n Don\u2019t lie! That\u2019s all ya\u2019 do is lie!<\/p>\n Ya\u2019 see what ya\u2019 done? My hands ain\u2019t mine no more! Ain\u2019t \u2026 ain\u2019t mine! But \u2026 hallelujah<\/em>! Ain\u2019t the devil workin\u2019 \u2018em now, is it? No. It\u2019s God.<\/p>\n Don\u2019t run now. Don\u2019t fight. You just stand right there. You stand there and heed God.<\/p>\n Devil pulled that trigger out in that desert. But God \u2026 it\u2019s God wrappin\u2019 my hands around yours, wrappin\u2019 em\u2019 good and tight around this here Bible. Hurts, don\u2019t it? Has to hurt. Has to be tight enough to choke the devil right out of you.<\/p>\n I told ya\u2019, don\u2019t fight! Don\u2019t talk, neither. Don\u2019t \u2026 don\u2019t even think. Just \u2026 just listen.<\/p>\n It\u2019s God\u2019s word what matters. God\u2019s word an\u2019 all that Holy light. Burn the dust out of any man \u2026 any man who\u2019ll wait long enough to let it.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n end<\/em><\/p>\n Historical note: In 1863, the Reverend William Maxwell Reilley was appointed to serve as the first missionary and pastor to Carson City\u2019s Episcopalians.\u00a0 He arrived on October 29th and set about organizing a parish.\u00a0 The church was built between 1867 and 1868.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Tags:\u00a0 Adam Cartwright,\u00a0Angst,\u00a0Faith,\u00a0Hoss Cartwright,\u00a0Joe \/ Little Joe Cartwright,\u00a0miracle,\u00a0SAS,\u00a0SHS,\u00a0SJS<\/p>\n
\nand Grace, my fears relieved.
\nHow precious did that Grace appear
\nthe hour I first believed.<\/em><\/p>\n
\nthat saved a wretch like me.
\nI once was lost, but now am found,
\nwas blind, but now I see.<\/em><\/p>\n