{"id":10780,"date":"2015-04-02T08:04:21","date_gmt":"2015-04-02T12:04:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=10780"},"modified":"2025-08-01T13:29:14","modified_gmt":"2025-08-01T17:29:14","slug":"and-ive-got-mine-aka-until-the-pains-a-cloud-of-dust","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=10780","title":{"rendered":"And I’ve Got Mine — aka Until the Pain’s a Cloud of Dust (by BluewindFarm)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: <\/strong>For those who were never satisfied with the brief glimpse of a picture on the desk.\u00a0 What should have happened to honor the passing of Hoss (aka Dan Blocker).<\/span><\/p>\n

Rating:\u00a0 K (1,550 words)<\/span><\/p>\n

Remembering Hoss Series:<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Always<\/a><\/span>
\nAnd I’ve Got Mine… (Until the Pain’s a Cloud of Dust)<\/a><\/span>
\nWhat We Didn’t Choose<\/a><\/span>
\nMomma Liked the Roses<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Author’s Note: \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And I’ve Got Mine…<\/em>was the first story written, followed by Momma Liked the Roses<\/em>, and\u00a0What We Didn’t Choose, <\/em>and lastly, Always <\/em>in what has become known as my Remembering Hoss Series<\/strong>.\u00a0 The Series is listed in chronological order.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And I’ve Got Mine… (aka Until the Pain’s a Cloud of Dust)<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

The sun rose on another day where Hop Sing cleaned; ensuring everything was back in its proper place. Not a speck of dust resided on the bureau nor the desk set opposite the bed with its bright comforter and multiple pillows. A small wooden stand held an empty ceramic water pitcher and basin underneath a streak-free mirror. The heavy curtains over the windows were pulled aside, revealing sheer drapes diffusing the bright sunlight streaming into the room.<\/span><\/p>\n

Closing the door afterwards, the room waited for its occupant.<\/span><\/p>\n

*****<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, Jamie,\u201d Ben Cartwright greeted while stepping across the middle landing.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMorning, Pa.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re up early if you\u2019re waiting for Hop Sing\u2019s breakfast already.\u201d Continuing across the floor of the great room, he took his seat at the head of the table. \u201cDid you finish all your morning chores?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo sir,\u201d the boy answered setting the partially emptied glass of milk back to the table top.<\/span><\/p>\n

Looking up from filling the red and white China cup with coffee, Ben stated, \u201cYou know the rules, we take care of the animals first. Did you forget?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo sir! I was up as usual, and I went to the barn….it\u2019s just that everything was already done. Stalls cleaned, horses fed, and water buckets filled. They were even turned turn out in the corral.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Silently, Hop Sing set a bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate of sausage patties on the table before retreating back to his domain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJoe?\u201d Disconsolately, the older man\u2019s shoulders slightly slumped.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI guess so.\u201d A shrug of the shoulders accompanied the red-headed youth\u2019s answer.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cEat your breakfast, son.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

*****<\/span><\/p>\n

Having been up well before dawn, the workers saw the sun begin its descent hours before their day ended. Hard work included riding the range in search of cattle, roping recalcitrant beasts, and avoiding a worried cow as they towed its offspring to the branding fires; while others man-handled the calves to the ground. The men spent long hours seeing the pine tree brand seared into the animals\u2019 hides.<\/span><\/p>\n

A dirty and tired Candy Canaday watched the man on the black and white pinto slowly ride across the valley floor and approach.\u00a0 “That\u2019s the last of them, boss.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll let Pa know. He\u2019ll be happy to know it\u2019s finally done.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou going with the men to town tonight?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I need to get home. Lots of work still to do.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJoe\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBuy a round for the men, on the Ponderosa.\u201d Pulling out a wad of cash, he handed the money to their foreman. \u201cSee ya later, Candy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

With that, Candy turned towards the fire pits. \u201cExtinguish the fire and load everything up! The first round is on the boss!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Worn-out men came to life; a rousing cheer chorused after hearing the news that they could cut free and have a good time. A night on the town was just what many of them wanted and needed after a week spent out on the range.<\/span><\/p>\n

*****<\/span><\/p>\n

Wearily he lifted the heavy saddle from his horse\u2019s back and set it aside before turning his attention to grooming his mount. Even in the pale light provided by the lantern, the black and white coat gleamed by the time he finished.<\/span><\/p>\n

Cochise nudged Joe, looking for a lump of sugar. \u201cYou earned it today, fella.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

With the horses in the barn taken care of, giving one last look around, Joe headed for the doorway.<\/span><\/p>\n

*****<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJoe? Is that you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, it\u2019s me, Pa.\u201d Removing his hat, he hung it on the wall rack next to his father\u2019s and brother\u2019s hats.<\/span><\/p>\n

Looking up from where he sat at the dining room table, Ben relinquished the cup of hot coffee encircled by his hands, rose and walked to where Joe stood.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe men finished the branding.\u201d Removing his gun belt, Joe wrapped it around itself before setting it on the side board. Next came his gloves.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s good news.\u201d Casting a parental eye over his son, \u201cYou look tired.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right, I am tired.\u201d Joe walked towards the staircase.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHop Sing kept a plate warm with your supper.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not hungry, just want to wash up and climb into bed.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDid you stop by to see Hoss today?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Shaking his head, Joe raced up the stairs.<\/span><\/p>\n

*****<\/span><\/p>\n

With the sunrise, Ben stepped from the house only to hear the hoof beats fading away. He wanted to talk, but another morning had slipped from his grasp as Joe threw himself into the Ponderosa.<\/span><\/p>\n

*****<\/span><\/p>\n

Long blades of pasture grass mirrored ocean waves as the breeze gently blew across the land.<\/span><\/p>\n

Riding crouched low in the saddle, legs rhythmically moved to encourage the gelding on from a quiet lope into a full out gallop. Together they circled the field before cutting across and circling around in the opposite direction. Tufts of grass and clods of dirt, kicked up by the big black with a white blaze, flew through the air before sinking to the ground in testament to their passing.<\/span><\/p>\n

The road loomed before them; one hand patted the horse\u2019s neck while the reins held in his other hand gave the horse his head. Years of travel had killed off most of the grass leaving a trail of hard packed earth with loose dirt settled on top. Their ride left a trail of dust in their wake as neither gave up the need for speed and the desire to lose the pain.<\/span><\/p>\n

Heaving flanks and a burning chest forced the pair to slow up, ultimately yielding to a walk.<\/span><\/p>\n

Slipping from the saddle, he placed a stirrup over the seat. With knees threatening to buckle, he grabbed mane and saddle horn, looked up and screamed, \u201cDAMN YOU! WHY?! HE WAS MY BROTHER!\u201d Tears he had tried so hard to prevent coursed freely down his face.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, why can\u2019t this be a dream?\u201d Lowering his head and shaking it from side to side as it settled on his forearm. \u201cPlease God, let me wake up and this all be a dream.\u201d Gradually, hands released their purchase, allowing him to slip to his knees. The side of a fisted hand slammed the ground in anger and in grief. Rising up to sit on his heels after being nudged by the large head hanging next to his shoulder, he cried, \u201cI\u2019m sorry Chubbs. I miss him too.\u201d He reached under the jowl to hug the horse\u2019s head.<\/span><\/p>\n

*****<\/span><\/p>\n

Slowly he looked up and rose to his feet. Removing his hat, he walked forward.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry I haven\u2019t been here for you big brother. Pa asked if I\u2019d been by to see you last night.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Once more on his knees he reached forward and traced the name chiseled into the granite stone, Eric \u2018Hoss\u2019 Cartwright.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know how to be the oldest son. You and Adam… I\u2019m trying to be tough.\u201d Absent-mindedly he rubbed his bicep, as if having been mockingly punched.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHop Sing\u2019s been keeping your room clean. He finally moved your hat from the side board; it\u2019s hanging on your bedpost. Your covers are turned down, just like always. Guess that\u2019s his way of coping.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wiping at the tears, \u201cAnd I\u2019ve got mine. I been riding Chubbs when I can. He\u2019s right over there.\u00a0 Can you see him? He misses you.\u201d He glanced at the horse standing in the shade, idly swatting flies with its tail, munching on the tall grass nearby..<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s been times when I thought I heard you laugh or maybe late at night, I think I hear you snoring.\u201d Collapsing to sit with his back to the gravestone, \u201cThis isn\u2019t where I feel you.\u201d Twirling his hat around in his hands, forearms resting on bent knees, \u201cYou\u2019re out there, among the trees and the cattle. You were more a part of this land than I ever was. Even though I was born here, you\u2019re the Ponderosa. You had a way of knowing what to do and when. Me\u2026\u201d Hands stilled, head hung, \u201cI don\u2019t know how to do this. I don\u2019t have either of my big brothers anymore.\u201d Raising his head as an errant sunbeam caught his attention, \u201cI know. Adam\u2019s out there somewhere, but you know it\u2019s been ages since we heard anything\u2026 maybe someday.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Their conversation continued while the sun traversed the sky, warming the earth and air while birds darted among the trees. Squirrels, chipmunks, and rabbits scurried among the fallen pine needles in search of food.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPa\u2019s going to be worried if I don\u2019t come home soon.\u201d Climbing to his feet, \u201cI\u2019ll take it slow with Chubbs heading home. Just wish I could turn this pain into a cloud of dust and leave it all behind.\u201d His hat placed in position, he turned one last time. \u201cThis is all so different from when Adam left.\u201d A steady stream of tears persisted, \u201cThe Ponderosa isn\u2019t the same without you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Setting a rock on the tombstone, \u201cI miss you, big brother.\u201d Turning, he walked towards Chubbs and to home.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

~The End<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Next Story in the Remembering Hoss Series:<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

What We Didn’t Choose<\/a><\/span>
\nMomma Liked the Roses<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Author’s Note:\u00a0 This story was inspired after listening to \u201cI Drive Your Truck\u201d \u2013 sung by Lee Brice, written by Connie Harrington, Jessi Alexander, and Jimmy Yeary. \u00a0<\/em>https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=yCSMCgqlc-0<\/em><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Tags: Grief, Joe \/ Little Joe Cartwright<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: For those who were never satisfied with the brief glimpse of a picture on the desk.\u00a0 What should have happened to honor the passing of Hoss (aka Dan Blocker).<\/p>\n

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