{"id":14460,"date":"2004-01-02T16:32:09","date_gmt":"2004-01-02T21:32:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=14460"},"modified":"2025-09-25T15:17:20","modified_gmt":"2025-09-25T19:17:20","slug":"the-cave-in-by-becky-s","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=14460","title":{"rendered":"The Cave-in (by BeckyS)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0\u00a0<\/strong>Guilt abounds when there is a cave-in.<\/p>\n

I wrote this as a Ponderosa story, but it fits in the Bonanza world as well. \u00a0Warning for claustrophobics.\u00a0 Which I nearly was after finishing writing it. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a9 January 2004, as allowable.<\/p>\n

Rating: \u00a0T \u00a0(6,100 words)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dear Readers — \u00a0This story was written almost fifteen years ago for my own pleasure, and I’m happy to share for others to enjoy. \u00a0I know some readers may wish\u00a0there was more, but this how I saw fit to write this story. \u00a0Since I no longer write Bonanza fan fiction, I ask that you honor my request to not post comments asking\u00a0for the story to continue.<\/p>\n

The Cave-In<\/strong><\/p>\n

He could taste it.\u00a0 Smell it.\u00a0 The fear rose from his body and filled what little space was left around him.<\/em><\/p>\n

It pressed him into the rock.\u00a0 It pushed on his chest harder than the beam of Ponderosa pine that had almost crushed him.\u00a0 The fear constricted his breathing until he could barely hold back screams he couldn\u2019t afford.\u00a0 Was there was enough air?\u00a0 Barely \u2013 choked with settling dust as it was \u2013 if he could stay calm.\u00a0 Why was the pitch-black around him so suffocating?<\/p>\n

He steadied his breathing.\u00a0 After what seemed a long time, once the dust finally settled, he realized the air wasn\u2019t getting stale.\u00a0 By some miracle, there must have been a passage of sorts to the outside.\u00a0 He tried calling for help, but soon discovered the airflow wasn\u2019t sufficient \u2013 dizziness tilted his small world, and he clamped down hard on rising panic. Small breaths. Patience.<\/p>\n

As he relentlessly brought himself back under control, his mind came back into sudden sharp focus — did Joe get out?<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

Twelve-year-old Joe Cartwright knew it was his fault.\u00a0 He\u2019d volunteered to take Adam\u2019s written message to Jeb, the mine foreman, grateful for the chance to get out into the fresh, free air.\u00a0 Every time he went into a mine, he told himself that the timbers would hold, that these man-made caves weren\u2019t graves reaching out for him. \u00a0Adam had promised him that he\u2019d worked out all the numbers, that they would be safe.\u00a0 Yet he could never rid himself of the dread that the walls would crumble, the ceiling would collapse, that tons of rock would fall and trap him in everlasting darkness, crushing the life out of him.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d held himself to as slow a pace as he could manage, trying to look like he wasn\u2019t afraid, but a small voice at the back of his mind screamed at him to get out \u2013 get out now, and get out fast!<\/em><\/p>\n

He\u2019d found himself near running and, busy berating his lack of courage, he tripped over the rails for the ore carts and tumbled into a support beam . . . and his fears came suddenly, appallingly true.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d jerked his legs up just in time to avoid being crushed by the pelting rocks \u2013 rocks that must have buried his oldest brother.\u00a0 Why had he been in such a hurry?\u00a0 Why couldn\u2019t he control himself?\u00a0 He\u2019d known to be careful.\u00a0 They all knew to be careful in this particular shaft; they\u2019d seen the water seeping through the walls.<\/p>\n

And now he was outside, free, and Adam was inside, trapped, maybe dead.<\/p>\n

The warm sunshine filtered through the branches of the trees, speckling the ground with vibrant colors.\u00a0 Someone handed Joe a canteen, and he drank deeply then poured enough water into his hand to wipe the grit off his face.\u00a0 He stared at his wet hand.\u00a0 Does Adam have water?<\/em> he wondered.\u00a0 Does he have air?<\/em>\u00a0 That was the real question.\u00a0 People could live a few days without water, but only moments without air.\u00a0 Is it going bad on him? \u00a0Is it going stale?\u00a0 Is the rock dust filling his lungs, making him cough and choke as he tries to breathe?<\/em><\/p>\n

He felt the clear, crisp mountain breeze tease at his sweat-dampened hair, then drew the sweet coolness deep into his chest.\u00a0 Someone laid a warm arm around his shoulders.\u00a0 Not wanting to offend the well-meaning friend, he made himself stand still for a moment, but soon slipped away to the pile of shovels and headed back into the dark hole.\u00a0 He didn\u2019t know how much help he could be, but he couldn\u2019t bear the offered comfort.\u00a0 Not when he knew that the only embrace Adam had felt since yesterday had been that of cold earth and damp darkness.<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

A small trickle of water ran down the rocks by his left ear.\u00a0 It was quiet in his world now; the rocks and beams had finished settling, and once he had stilled his panicked gasping, the sweet warbling of the miniscule stream was the only sound.\u00a0 In the utter darkness, throat parched beyond swallowing and mouth dry with dust, he ached for the water.\u00a0 He tried once more to turn his head far enough to reach it.\u00a0 His left arm was pinned to his side by granite, and his right hand was caught somehow between rocks and what he guessed from the smooth surface was the ore cart he\u2019d been using for a desk.<\/em><\/p>\n

The beam across his chest allowed him barely enough room to breathe, but not quite enough to shift around.\u00a0 If he could find a way to slide his right hand up just a bit, though, he might be able to stretch enough to the left to get just that much closer to the water.\u00a0 He leaned a little toward the modest stream, tried to flatten his right hand so that it could slip just a bit.\u00a0 It began to throb as he pulled against the rocks that trapped it as surely as if it was manacled.\u00a0 The ache spread up his arm, but he persisted and was rewarded by a few drops of gritty wetness.\u00a0 He pulled again until the pain shot up into his shoulder, but the water, the sweet water, Lord, it tasted of iron and dirt on the tip of his tongue, but it was wet.\u00a0 The first few drops cleared the dust from his mouth, absorbed before it even hit his throat.\u00a0 He finally he got enough to swallow, and it hurt the first few times.<\/p>\n

It spilled over the left side of his face, cooling where it touched skin, leaving the rest of him feeling even stickier with hot sweat.<\/p>\n

He sipped precious dribbles until the pain in his arm finally outweighed his thirst, then fell back the scant inches, breathing heavily.<\/p>\n

His headache gradually eased, and he realized it had been caused mostly by thirst and hunger, not injury.\u00a0 In fact, he seemed to have escaped relatively unscathed. Had Joe? And could he last long enough to find out?<\/p>\n

He had air, as long as he stayed quiet.\u00a0 He could get to the water.\u00a0 It would hurt, but he could do it.\u00a0 It would take a while to get enough, but he had time.\u00a0 Time to spare.\u00a0 It wouldn\u2019t be easy, but as long as the water held out, so could he.<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

Hoss had spent his strength.\u00a0 His biceps quivered as he passed another melon-sized rock back to the other hopeful diggers, and his legs threatened to collapse.\u00a0 The muscles in his chest ached with a heavy weariness that told him he couldn\u2019t go on much longer.\u00a0 He knew he needed rest, food, water, but it had been two days since Adam had disappeared into the mine, and he simply couldn\u2019t stop. How could he fill his belly with warm, comforting food when Adam was starving; how could he drink cup after cup of hot coffee when his brother was cold and parched?\u00a0 How could he sleep when Adam was waiting for him, counting on his strength, lying in endless darkness, praying his family would reach him before his air ran out, or he died of heat or thirst or injuries \u2014 if he hadn\u2019t already.<\/p>\n

No.\u00a0 He wouldn\u2019t think that way.\u00a0 He couldn\u2019t.\u00a0 He had to believe Adam was still alive, was waiting patiently for his brother to reach him.\u00a0 Adam was good at patience, good at enduring.\u00a0 As Hoss and Joe had grown up, they\u2019d each had times when they tried to match his ability to simply sit serenely until whatever he wanted came to him \u2013 or didn\u2019t.\u00a0 Pa had praised them for their efforts, but said that Adam had learned patience young and the hard way, and he, for one, didn\u2019t mind if they never reached their brother\u2019s level of tolerance.\u00a0 The price had been too high.<\/p>\n

Some of the helpers had given up, gone back to their lives, their families; a few sparing a single look back and a shake of the head.\u00a0 But not Hoss. He had to keep digging.\u00a0 To stop would be to accept that Adam was dead \u2013 or worse, as good as dead.\u00a0 Someone passed him a canteen and the coolness eased his throat, poured strength into his arms again.\u00a0 He turned back to the wall of rock before him and dragged in a shaking breath, daunted by the sheer impossibility of what they were doing.<\/p>\n

A hand on his arm pulled his attention to the boy at his side.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, Hoss, go eat, sleep for a while.\u00a0 I\u2019ll keep digging, I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned back to the rocks.\u00a0 \u201cI gotta\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Joe broke in.\u00a0 \u201cIf you give out on us, Adam doesn\u2019t have a chance.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, if I stop, I\u2019m afraid I\u2019ll never get goin\u2019 again.\u201d His head dropped, his voice was a ragged whisper.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m afraid I\u2019ll believe it\u2019s too late.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe dragged him around, and it was a measure of his weariness that Hoss couldn\u2019t resist.<\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t believe that until I see him, and you won\u2019t either.\u00a0 I won\u2019t let you.\u201d<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

He drank again, wrenching his shoulder and arm once more.\u00a0 He wished the water would come faster, useless as he knew such wishes were, but he was grateful for its presence at all.\u00a0 He was getting better at ignoring the pain \u2013 it was, at least, something different in the endless passage of time.<\/em><\/p>\n

How long had he been here?<\/p>\n

The hunger that tied his stomach into a hard knot told him that at least a day had passed. Perhaps more.\u00a0 He\u2019d lost count of the times he\u2019d stretched out to the trickle of water, so it was probably longer.\u00a0 No matter.\u00a0 With water, he could wait.<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t as hot now, and he didn\u2019t know if it was because he had water, or if there was something wrong with him.\u00a0 He didn\u2019t think so, and he tried testing his arms and legs. None of them could move against the rock, but he tensed and released the muscles, testing the feeling against memory.\u00a0 He pulled his stomach muscles in, relaxed, and tried to arch his back even a scant inch.\u00a0 He couldn\u2019t get his shoulders up, but the relief to the small of his back was intense.<\/p>\n

Then the big muscle just under his right shoulder blade cramped.\u00a0 It twisted into an agonizing knot, and he moaned through gritted teeth.<\/p>\n

Ride it out, ride it out, he chanted to himself.\u00a0 Deep breaths\u2014<\/p>\n

That didn\u2019t work; he choked on the dust.\u00a0 Coughing violently, he banged the back of his head against the rocks, and his hands grabbed desperately for something \u2013 anything \u2013 to hang on to as his right calf cramped in sympathy.<\/p>\n

He wanted to scream his frustration, his need to stretch out, to move, but clamped down hard on the urge.\u00a0 Eyes squeezed shut, he focused on slow, even breathing, and eventually his back relaxed, then his leg.\u00a0 One quick, sobbing hitch of air was ruthlessly cut off, to return to steady breaths.<\/p>\n

Time seemed stretched in the endless darkness, and, exhausted, he slept in what he thought were snatches.\u00a0 His dreams were muddled, confused images of rocks falling, one of Hop Sing\u2019s banquets, and the relief in his brother\u2019s eyes when he\u2019d asked him to take the message outside.<\/p>\n

One thought was constant, though, awake or sleeping:\u00a0 God, I hope Joe made it out . . . .<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

Stomach-churning, throat-choking, near-paralyzing terror. Ben Cartwright\u2019s return to Eagle Station from Sacramento hadn\u2019t been greeted by the good-natured teasing of his boys, but by the solemn, horror-stricken eyes of Hop Sing.\u00a0 Ben clamped down on his own fear, turned it into action.<\/p>\n

A hurried discussion with him about what supplies were at the mine was followed by a quick trip to the general store.\u00a0 Ben commandeered a wagon and horses from the livery while Hop Sing picked out the needed supplies.\u00a0 They were headed out of town within twenty minutes of Ben\u2019s arrival.<\/p>\n

It was a wild ride in a buckboard full of food, picks, shovels, buckets, blankets, lanterns, oil, anything they could think of that might be useful.\u00a0 It should have ended in the relief of his eldest\u2019s slightly guilty grin for putting them all to so much trouble, but instead, he was greeted by the sight of his middle son staggering from the mine entrance to collapse in the dirt.<\/p>\n

Ben knelt beside him, gathered him into his arms. \u201cHoss?\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa,\u201d he cried.\u00a0 \u201cWe cain\u2019t find him, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hop Sing handed a damp kerchief to Ben, who used it to wipe the dirt from his son\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cShh,\u201d he murmured, and traded the cloth for a cup of hot coffee that Hop Sing held out next.\u00a0 \u201cDrink this, and then you can tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss pushed it away and looked up at his father, his eyes begging for understanding.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Pa.\u00a0 I always thought I was strong enough, but I ain\u2019t, I just don\u2019t got what I need, what Adam needs.\u201d\u00a0 He gripped Ben\u2019s arm.\u00a0 \u201cOh, Pa, it\u2019s been three days and I just cain\u2019t dig no more . . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

The man-sized piles of rubble to either side of the mine entrance testified to the efforts of everyone here, but the raw bleeding blisters on his son\u2019s hands told Ben what he already knew: Hoss had spent his heart \u2013 had broken it \u2013 on the search for his brother.<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

Another drink \u2013 he filled his empty belly with water, though it took forever and cost him more pain in his wrist and hand and shoulder.\u00a0 His back ached from lying in one position for so long, and a small rock that he\u2019d barely noticed at first was now digging painfully into his waist.\u00a0 He\u2019d managed to wiggle free a scant inch of legroom, but though his feet moved freely within his boots, the boots themselves were hopelessly immobilized.<\/em><\/p>\n

Was anyone still looking for him?\u00a0 He knew from reading about mining that anyone who wasn\u2019t recovered within the first two days was usually found dead, if they were found at all.\u00a0 Lack of air, injuries, no water, heat \u2013 terrible, blistering heat.\u00a0 Those things were the killers, and everyone knew it. Rarely did a cave-in spare its victims one, let alone all four. He fully realized how lucky he was that the water dripping down by his shoulder didn\u2019t burn him with every drop.<\/p>\n

He knew more than two days must have passed \u2013 he was beyond hunger now.\u00a0 Had they given up on him?\u00a0 It was only reasonable. Had they found his brother?<\/p>\n

The killers had spared him, but for what?\u00a0 How long would he live, encased in dead rock with air and water enough to keep him alive?<\/p>\n

Forever, he was beginning to realize.\u00a0 And if his family had given up on him, if they one day, as they must, came to believe he couldn\u2019t have survived, they would walk away . . . and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.<\/p>\n

Panic grabbed at his heart, and for the first time he lost control and screamed for his family, struggled against the tons of rock that held him prisoner.\u00a0 Dizziness came on suddenly, but in his panic, he was unaware of the warning.\u00a0 His cries finally used up the small trickle of good air, and he fell unconscious.<\/p>\n

After a long while he woke, slowly, painfully. He stretched for water against the familiar ache in his arm and shoulder, his strained throat desperate for relief.\u00a0 The water now tasted of the bitter tang of old smoke and unanswered prayers.<\/p>\n

Exhausted, his aching head fell back, and the cool rock gradually soothed the pain.\u00a0 He understood now that he wouldn\u2019t be saved . . . and he also realized that he had no way to end this torment, no way to die. If he tried to use up all of the air, he would simply pass out again and wake up when the air freshened.\u00a0 He could scrape his head or his right arm along the rock, but would never be able to do enough damage to bleed to death.\u00a0 Could he deprive himself of water long enough?\u00a0 Could he force himself in thirst-driven insanity to refuse to drink?<\/p>\n

No.\u00a0 No one was that strong.<\/p>\n

There was no hope.\u00a0 No future.\u00a0 Just this strange, lightless limbo for the rest of his life \u2013 the days, weeks, or even months it would take to starve.<\/p>\n

He shivered in the darkness.<\/p>\n

He hardly knew when he slept now, except that his dreams, when they came, were comforting.\u00a0 He would hear his father\u2019s deep voice, feel Hoss\u2019s big arms around his shoulders, see his little brother\u2019s bright eyes dancing with glee.<\/p>\n

No end but madness in this black, agonizingly slow death.<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cFour days, Ben.\u00a0 He couldn\u2019t still be alive.\u201d\u00a0 It was a friendly voice, caring, from someone who wanted to save him from further grief.\u00a0 Ben looked up from the campfire, but his flame-blinded eyes couldn\u2019t make out who it was.\u00a0 It didn\u2019t matter.\u00a0 They didn\u2019t understand.<\/p>\n

Something rose up then inside Ben Cartwright, something primeval: a beast, a force of nature, a driving will to make things turn out the way he<\/em> wanted.\u00a0 He would<\/em> find a way to rescue Adam, and Adam would not <\/em>be dead.\u00a0 He couldn\u2019t be.<\/p>\n

Ben stood, threw the cold coffee in his cup into the fire where it hissed angrily.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m not giving up.\u00a0 I\u2019ll never give up until I hold his lifeless body in my arms.\u201d<\/p>\n

His friend sighed and murmured, \u201cAll right then, we\u2019ll keep at it,\u201d but Ben ignored him.<\/p>\n

He strode back to the mine, grabbed a canteen from the pile by the entrance, and followed the lanterns to where his youngest was digging with a pick at another rock wall.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d he called.<\/p>\n

His son kept swinging, an irregular rhythm that echoed off the walls.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d he demanded again.<\/p>\n

He finally turned, and his eyes burned in lantern\u2019s light like the depths of hell.\u00a0 They were too old \u2013 like Adam\u2019s at that age.<\/p>\n

He staggered, and Ben grabbed his arm to steady him.\u00a0 He didn\u2019t bother to tell his son to sit down and rest \u2013 none of them would find rest until they knew.\u00a0 \u201cWhy are you digging here?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d Joe\u2019s voice was hoarse, strained.\u00a0 He drew a forearm over his sweaty brow.\u00a0 \u201cHow can you ask that, Pa?\u00a0 How can you think\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d\u00a0 Ben shook him gently.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m not asking you why you\u2019re digging; I\u2019m asking why you\u2019re digging here<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHere?\u201d<\/p>\n

Fatigue, pain, fear . . . guilt<\/em>.\u00a0 Easy for a father to read, easy to know how all of it could distort judgment.\u00a0 He softened his voice.\u00a0 \u201cDo you remember where your brother was?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe gulped for air, nodded.\u00a0 \u201cYeah, I remember.\u00a0 I\u2019ll \u2013 never forget.\u00a0 He had a board across one of the ore carts, had a lamp on it, too.\u00a0 He had his papers spread out on the wood so he could write on them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen he probably wouldn\u2019t have moved much between when you left him and when the roof caved in.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shook his head.\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t think he even saw that I left.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben pressed a canteen into his son\u2019s hands.\u00a0 Joe dropped the pick at his feet and took it, but his hands and arms shook as he tried to lift it to his mouth.<\/p>\n

Ben steadied him, helped him drink.<\/p>\n

He lowered the canteen and swiped at his mouth.\u00a0 \u201cIt was at that bad spot in the rail.\u00a0 He couldn\u2019t take the cart any farther.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rubbing thoughtfully at his temple, Ben tried to recall a conversation he\u2019d had with his eldest about the mine, before he\u2019d left for Sacramento.\u00a0 \u201cWasn\u2019t Adam talking about how Jeb was going to join this tunnel with the shaft from the north side of the hill?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s head came up like a like a hound on the scent, and his eyes brightened.\u00a0 He threw the canteen to the ground and raced out into the night. \u00a0\u201cHoss!\u00a0 Hoss!\u201d Ben could hear him shouting.\u00a0 \u201cWhere are those maps Adam had?\u201d<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

Risk.\u00a0 Life out here was all a risk. Jeb promised he\u2019d minimize it as much as he could.\u00a0 He\u2019d brought out the best explosives man he knew \u2013 a dark Irishman who had a lilt to his voice, a woolly scarf wound around his neck and a perpetually lit cigar clamped between his teeth.\u00a0 Paddy gathered his tools quickly and went cheerfully to work.\u00a0 Long fuses in undersized charges were set carefully in small holes.\u00a0 The holes were packed with wadding at the bottom so the blast would go to the sides, not behind where they feared \u2013 hoped \u2013 Adam might be.\u00a0 He blew them one small, cautious explosion at a time.<\/p>\n

Hours passed, a new sunrise \u2013 the fifth day \u2013 and once again, the Irishman came out of the cave to refill his supply of charges, then returned to the darkness.<\/p>\n

Another small explosion.\u00a0 Ben wiped sweat from his forehead and followed him with another shovel.\u00a0 After every explosion, Paddy stepped back and a rush of people attacked the new rubble.\u00a0 Hoss and Ben dug carefully, Little Joe and his friends loaded wheelbarrows with rocks, and a host of others ran the wheelbarrows outside and brought empties back.<\/p>\n

Then, finally, a small rockslide revealed a motionless hand. Ben grasped it, praying for a return squeeze, even a twitch, but there was nothing.\u00a0 The shirt cuff was rolled up over the wrist, revealing scrapes and bruises, and the long fingers were still and cold, fingernails torn and bloody under the white dust.\u00a0 That his son had lived past the first rock fall was obvious, as well that he had tried desperately to dig his way out of his tomb.\u00a0 Ben\u2019s heart nearly broke.\u00a0 He never could have succeeded.<\/p>\n

Were they too late?<\/p>\n

Then water shot from the opening, drenching them all. \u00a0It slowed some after the initial burst so that they were no longer being sprayed, but it started to puddle on the floor, backing up against the rock wall.\u00a0 In just moments it slopped over the toes of Ben\u2019s boots, then rose to his ankles.\u00a0 They had to move quickly.\u00a0 The water loosened rocks around Adam\u2019s body, poured mud onto the floor of the mine, making their job easier, but Ben worried that if by some miracle Adam were still alive, he would drown before they could get him out.<\/p>\n

A beam came into view, a boot, a leg, a belt . . . a filthy gray shirt that moved, ever so slightly, as his son\u2019s chest rose and fell in choked gasps.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s alive,\u201d Ben breathed.\u00a0 \u201cMy God, he\u2019s still alive!\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe whooped and clapped Hoss on the back, beyond words.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe,\u201d Ben said, \u201ccan you get down and see in there?\u00a0 Is there anything trapping him?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe splashed to the opening, took the lantern that Ben passed to him and crouched to look through the hole.\u00a0 \u201cHis head\u2019s clear, but he isn\u2019t awake.\u00a0 I can\u2019t see his other arm.\u201d\u00a0 He turned to his father.\u00a0 \u201cWe gotta get him out of there, Pa. All this water\u2019s coming down right over him.\u00a0 We can\u2019t let him drown, not now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss stood in the growing puddle, got his shoulder under the beam, set himself and lifted.\u00a0 Joe murmured something else and grabbed the arm, Ben got a good grip with one hand on the belt, his other gathered his son\u2019s legs, and they hauled. They almost had him loose when something hung up, then suddenly released.\u00a0 Adam slid toward them on a rush of water, and Ben barely caught his head before it went under and cracked on the floor.<\/p>\n

The water continued to pour out onto the floor of the mine, creating a lake that would soon engulf them all.\u00a0 Hoss let the beam fall with a huge splash that soaked them all again.\u00a0 Ben lifted Adam in his arms, and Joe ran out of the mine ahead of them.\u00a0 His wild whoops set off cheers from all their friends as Ben carried Adam outside to a bed of blankets that had been hastily laid under a tree.<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

Thunder.\u00a0 This dream took place in a storm \u2013 more thunder, and the rain started to pour down, soaking his shirt, washing the filth and dried sweat from his body. \u00a0It felt wonderful to have the caked dirt cleaned away.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cAdam,\u201d he heard his father call.\u00a0 \u201cAdam . . .\u201d\u00a0 His father needed him, but there was nothing he could do.\u00a0 \u201cSo sorry,\u201d he whispered, and turned his head away.\u00a0 Water streamed over his face, into his mouth.\u00a0 Finally he had enough to drink without that tearing, dragging pain on his arm and shoulder.<\/p>\n

He felt someone patting his face, tugging at his other arm.\u00a0 Joe, most likely, wanting him to come out and play.\u00a0 \u201cC\u2019mon, big brother, please!\u201d\u00a0 Yeah, that was Joe.\u00a0 Always wanted to pull him away from work for some sort of playtime.\u00a0 Used to be it was fishing or the cavalry fort he\u2019d built for him . . . more recently, it was sneaking into town for candy from Eli\u2019s store.\u00a0 Why hadn\u2019t he gone more often? He\u2019d give anything now to share a licorice whip with his brother or to play hooky from work at their favorite fishing hole.<\/p>\n

Joe, oh, Joe \u2013 had he been crushed by the tons of rock?\u00a0 Adam had been protected in part by the ore cart, but there\u2019d been nothing like that in the tunnel to save his little brother.\u00a0 He\u2019d never know; he knew he would die still wondering.<\/p>\n

The rain came faster, too much!\u00a0 Too much! Harsh coughs ripped at his throat, and he began to choke.\u00a0 Then the water stopped and strong arms surrounded him.\u00a0 Or maybe he\u2019d gone inside somewhere, but for whatever reason the water stopped pouring down on him, and he was glad.\u00a0 No more water . . . no more . . . .<\/p>\n

His muscles cramped and spasmed.\u00a0 He cried out and felt a gentle touch.\u00a0 It soothed him \u2013 yes, he remembered that touch, so rare, so treasured. His father\u2019s voice called to him.\u00a0\u00a0 He felt something at his lips \u2013 no, he couldn\u2019t drink, couldn\u2019t . . . .<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

Something cool played over his body, and he hazily recognized it as a breeze.\u00a0 A breeze? In the mine?<\/em>\u00a0 He was so cold.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam!\u201d He heard his father\u2019s voice again, felt a familiar palm against his forehead.<\/p>\n

Is it real?<\/em> he wondered.\u00a0 Is Pa really here, or have I finally lost my mind?<\/em>\u00a0 He was so tired, but there was a brilliant light that hurt his eyes.\u00a0 He turned his head to the side and a slight darkness fell.\u00a0 Light . . . dark . . . but not the pitch-black of the last days. <\/em>\u201cJoe\u2014?\u201d he\u2019d just begun to wonder when another paroxysm of coughing curled him on his side.\u00a0 When he finally relaxed into warm, familiar arms, his eyes opened.<\/p>\n

Something hazy seemed to hang in front of him, framed by brilliant light.\u00a0 He squinted and made out the face of his youngest brother.\u00a0 \u201cJoe?\u201d he whispered, and wondered if the boy he saw before him was in Heaven.\u00a0\u00a0 Then he saw the tears sliding from eyes that seemed too old.\u00a0 Do angels cry?<\/em><\/p>\n

He reached up, surprised his arm actually moved, touched warm flesh for the first time in what seemed forever.\u00a0 \u201cYou made it,\u201d he wheezed, his relief almost more than he could bear.<\/p>\n

Joe nodded.\u00a0 \u201cSo did you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Epilogue<\/h1>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Little Joe\u2019s voice echoed faintly through the mine as he set the lantern on the ground.\u00a0 He and Adam stood just inside the entrance, facing the black hole, on the cusp between sunshine and darkness, warmth and damp cold.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I do.\u201d\u00a0 Adam\u2019s response was soft, and it took every ounce of will to say it.\u00a0 Trapped!<\/em>\u00a0 How many times in the past few days had he been back in the mine in his head?\u00a0 First it was just having the bedcovers tucked in tight \u2013 he\u2019d woken screaming and flung blankets and sheets in every direction as he kicked himself free.\u00a0 He shook from more than cold until his father had gathered him into his arms, but found he couldn\u2019t bear to be held tightly.\u00a0 He hadn\u2019t needed to see his father\u2019s face to know that he hurt him when he pushed away.\u00a0 Can\u2019t breathe<\/em>, he\u2019d finally gasped, and somehow, Ben had understood.\u00a0 He\u2019d turned Adam so he leaned back against his father\u2019s chest, and with his father\u2019s strong arms lightly encircling him he\u2019d finally relaxed, eventually falling asleep.<\/p>\n

When his father finally gave in to his repeated demands to get out of bed, he was at first happy to simply sit in front of the great fireplace, soaking up the warmth and reveling in the space around him, taking comfort from the strong, soaring beams of the high ceiling.\u00a0 But then the room seemed to become smaller, more confining, and he found himself pacing until he wore out what little strength he had and nearly collapsed onto the settee.<\/p>\n

Once he was finally strong enough to go outside, it was the ice house.\u00a0 Cold, damp, black.\u00a0 He had no idea how long he\u2019d stood in the doorway before finally turning away, telling Hoss to fill the bucket for Hop Sing.<\/p>\n

He couldn\u2019t go on this way.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s like getting back on a horse after you\u2019ve been thrown,\u201d he explained to Joe.\u00a0 \u201cAnd the sooner the better.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Adam, you\u2019re still sick.\u00a0 It\u2019s only been a couple days since you could come sit at the table for dinner with us, and Hop Sing is still mad at how you aren\u2019t cleaning your plate.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was true, he was still wobbly and a bit weak from his ordeal.\u00a0 It had taken all of Hop Sing\u2019s culinary genius to find something his stomach would tolerate after five days with nothing but water.\u00a0 Hoss said his appetite wasn\u2019t big enough to feed a hummingbird, let alone to get his full strength back.\u00a0 And he hadn\u2019t had a good night\u2019s sleep since before\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t lie in bed any more, staring at the walls and wondering if I\u2019ll ever have the guts to walk into a mine or a cave or even a dark room again.\u00a0 Pa\u2019s depending on my engineering knowledge to help decide what to do about mining on the Ponderosa, and I can\u2019t \u2013 I won\u2019t \u2013 let fear stand in the way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe turned to face him.\u00a0 \u201cThe mines aren\u2019t that important, Adam.\u00a0 We can forget about them, get rid of them, never have to step a foot into one ever again\u2014\u201d\u00a0 He swallowed hard and stared down at his boots.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re more important than any of this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam turned his gaze from the opening of the mine to his brother, and he wondered if this was more than a little brother trying to help.\u00a0 There was something else going on here.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d he said, \u201cfamily is more important.\u00a0 But that doesn\u2019t mean this isn\u2019t important, too.\u00a0 The mines can bring us enough income that we don\u2019t have to cut down as many trees, we can afford to buy cattle and horses that will improve the bloodlines of our stock \u2013 it will help protect us and our land from people who\u2019d take it away given half a chance.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe slumped, miserable.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d Adam asked.\u00a0 \u201cThis isn\u2019t about whether or not we should be mining.\u00a0 What\u2019s got you all tied up in knots?\u201d<\/p>\n

He saw the sudden tears.\u00a0 Joe shifted away and hooked his hands into the back of his belt, unable to look him in the eye.\u00a0 \u201cI \u2013 I did this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam waited, simply raising a questioning eyebrow.<\/p>\n


\n~ * ~\u00a0 * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

Joe looked up, then took a deep breath and blew it out, hard.\u00a0 He tried to muster the courage to tell Adam what he should have said days ago, what had been burning in his gut since that terrible moment when he realized the cave-in \u2013 that he had caused \u2013 had buried his brother.<\/p>\n

Every bruise on Adam\u2019s body, every bloody scrape, his winces, his poor appetite and weak reassurances \u2013 all had beaten Joe, had punished him for his cowardice that had almost caused his brother\u2019s death.\u00a0 And though they\u2019d rescued him, Joe knew that Adam wasn\u2019t the same after being trapped for so long.\u00a0 Did he give up on us?\u00a0 How long was he lying there awake, thinking he\u2019d never get out? Did he believe he would die, abandoned and alone?<\/em><\/p>\n

The answer was in Adam\u2019s eyes; Joe had seen it the first time he\u2019d visited him in his room. Fear.\u00a0 Violent, wild, all-encompassing fear. \u00a0Rigidly under control now, but Joe had been terrified when Adam kicked off his blankets, yelling like Indians were attacking them.\u00a0 He\u2019d torn at his nightshirt to get it off, and buttons flew across the room.\u00a0 It had taken his father an hour to calm him down enough to sleep again.\u00a0 And when Pa finally left the room, he wordlessly gave Hoss a big hug and gently pushed him into the room to sit with their brother, and then had actually picked Joe up and carried him to the chair by the fire.\u00a0 Joe had wrapped his arms around Pa\u2019s neck and hugged him hard.\u00a0 They\u2019d sat there, together, for a long time.\u00a0 Joe had pretended he didn\u2019t notice his father\u2019s heaving breaths.<\/p>\n

Adam was waiting patiently for him to continue, but Joe looked away again.\u00a0 He couldn\u2019t stand seeing the condemnation on his brother\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI tripped coming out of the mine.\u201d\u00a0 He forced the words out, and now they came in a rush.\u00a0 \u201cI was going so fast to get out of there, I tripped and fell into the support, and the whole roof came down.\u201d\u00a0 There.\u00a0 He\u2019d said it.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Adam.\u00a0 I\u2019m \u2013 I\u2019m so sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

All he could hear was the wind blowing through the pine trees, but his words seemed to echo in the caves ahead.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, look at me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam didn\u2019t sound mad.\u00a0 Joe risked a glance.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t need to apologize.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t your fault.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe still couldn\u2019t let it go.\u00a0 \u201cYes it was, and I\u2019m grown up enough to say it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI never said you weren\u2019t.\u201d\u00a0 Adam\u2019s eyes were warm, kind, and a hint of humor seemed to be creeping into his expression. \u201cI said you don\u2019t have to apologize because it wasn\u2019t your fault.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut the beam\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWas going anyway,\u201d Adam interrupted.\u00a0 \u201cThey all were.\u00a0 Neither one of us should have been that deep in the mine until we shored it up all the way.\u00a0 I did the numbers wrong.\u201d\u00a0 He gave Joe a little shake.\u00a0 \u201cWhy do you think I sent you out with that note?\u201d<\/p>\n

Facts were reordering in Joe\u2019s mind faster than he could keep up.\u00a0 \u201cBecause Jeb needed the measurements?\u201d<\/p>\n

A smile teased at one corner of Adam\u2019s mouth.\u00a0 \u201cHe didn\u2019t need them right then.\u00a0 I could see the ceiling was about to go, and I wanted you out of there\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Now Joe interrupted.\u00a0 \u201cTakin\u2019 care of me again!\u201d he snorted, disgusted.\u00a0 \u201cWhen are you gonna get over this mother hen thing?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam chuckled.\u00a0 \u201cProbably never, little brother.\u201d\u00a0 His tone softened.\u00a0 \u201cAnd are you trying to tell me you aren\u2019t doing the same thing?\u00a0 I\u2019m strong enough now to make this trip out here without a babysitter.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe ducked his head.\u00a0 That was exactly what he was doing, in spite of his own dread of the shadowed caverns.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe roof was gonna go any time, Joe.\u00a0 I sent you out first so I wouldn\u2019t mow you down when I made a run for it.\u201d\u00a0 He sobered.\u00a0 \u201cLeft it too long, though.\u00a0 As soon as I saw dust falling, I turned to go, but then it all came down.\u00a0 If anyone should apologize, it\u2019s me, for putting you through all that.\u201d<\/p>\n

A weight lifted from Joe\u2019s heart, but his dread of the close walls still pulled at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t want to go in there any more than I do,\u201d Adam guessed.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Joe whispered.<\/p>\n

Adam curved a hand around the back of Joe\u2019s neck.\u00a0 \u201cWill you go with me?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked up, startled.\u00a0 The fear was back, shadowing Adam\u2019s eyes, but he saw something even stronger there \u2013 love.<\/p>\n

He stretched up and took a deep breath.\u00a0 \u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam grinned and clapped him on the back.\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s get it over with, then, and maybe do a little fishin\u2019 on the way home.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe nodded and lit the lantern.\u00a0 A big grin appeared on his face.\u00a0 \u201cAre you sure you got all them numbers figured out right this time, big brother?\u201d<\/p>\n

And as they stepped forward together into the darkness, the sound of Joe\u2019s chatter and Adam\u2019s rich laughter echoed through the mine and out to the warm sunshine.<\/p>\n

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

From the Brandsters \/ Librarians — Any comments that do not respect the author’s wishes as posted above shall be removed<\/strong>.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

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<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: Guilt abounds when there is a cave-in.<\/p>\n

Rating: \u00a0T \u00a0(6,100 words)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":8546,"featured_media":13929,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[23,1008,30],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14460","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","category-family","category-prequels","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-1008-id","wpcat-30-id"],"a3_pvc":{"activated":true,"total_views":2851,"today_views":0},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/03\/Dead-Mans-Canyon.jpeg?fit=218%2C164&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":49966,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=49966","url_meta":{"origin":14460,"position":0},"title":"Ponderosa Christmas (by AC1830)","author":"AC1830","date":"December 25, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0 No one signed up for the fourth, so this day was opened to all members in the Forums to try their hand at writing poetry for the season. 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