{"id":15327,"date":"2017-09-19T10:47:16","date_gmt":"2017-09-19T14:47:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=15327"},"modified":"2025-09-25T15:41:04","modified_gmt":"2025-09-25T19:41:04","slug":"the-squirrels-stash-part-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=15327","title":{"rendered":"The Squirrel’s Stash #2 (by Questfan)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary:<\/strong> Some more Pinecone Challenges for my pet squirrel to chew over.\u00a0 Each chapter has a lyric prompt and had to be no more than 500 words.<\/p>\n

Word Count: 7354\u00a0 Rating: T<\/p>\n

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.\u00a0 The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.\u00a0 No copyright infringement is intended.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Pinecone Challenges – The Squirrel\u2019s Stash #2
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.<\/strong><\/p>\n

My Back Pages <\/em>by Bob Dylan<\/p>\n

The leather had aged over the years and it felt smooth to the touch as he ran his hand over it. Discovering it was like running into an old friend on the street. He smiled at the analogy, as it was an unexpected delight mixed with the question of how much had changed since the last time he’d written in its pages.<\/p>\n

Adam ran a finger lightly over the embossing that ran across the cover and he smiled again as he recalled his father’s face. It was a birthday gift and had seemed so very expensive and extravagant at the time. A leather journal was a luxury for a boy and yet his father had seen fit to spend hard-earned coin on it. The busy father was not too busy to notice his son’s penchant for words and had actively encouraged his boy to pursue his own writing.<\/p>\n

His thoughts turned inward again as he recalled many nights trying to learn to read by the light of the lantern. Fortunately it had come relatively easily as the words seemed to leap off the page at him and pull him into other worlds. He had a voracious appetite for books, but they were few and far between as they had travelled west. His father had traded old ones for new ones where he could find them. Adam clearly recalled his first glimpse at an actual library with the shelves lined with books as far as he could see. It felt like he had stepped into Heaven for a moment as he spun on his heel and surveyed the room. He could easily recall the smell of leather and paper and closed his eyes to savour the memory a little more deeply.<\/p>\n

It had been many years ago he had begun to build his own collection of books and he had felt like the richest king as he recalled building an actual shelf to store them on. Treasure meant many things to many people, but he could not imagine a greater treasure than the written word.<\/p>\n

Adam opened his eyes and stared again at the small journal. It was like a gold nugget that had been lost and now it was found again. As far as he knew, not another person had ever read the words contained within it. He almost laughed out loud as he modified that thought. Joe probably had. The kid had been caught more than once snooping where he shouldn’t be and earned his older brother’s wrath.<\/p>\n

I wonder what Joe would have made of this?<\/em><\/p>\n

Adam thumbed through the pages and rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and some of the things he had thought worthy to be recorded.<\/p>\n

I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.<\/em><\/p>\n

“Thanks, Pa,” he whispered to the empty room.<\/p>\n

It was a gift from a man who knew him better than he knew himself. He spent the next few hours reading, remembering and finding himself again.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

You’re walking a wire between pain and desire, and looking for love in between.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Victim of Love<\/em> by The Eagles (Don Felder, Glenn Frey, Donald Henley, John Souther)<\/p>\n

The last few weeks had gone by in a blur. From that first glimpse of a stranger as she almost ran him down in the street to last night, it felt like mere hours had gone by. How had she ever let down her guard and been so foolish? It wasn’t as if she could afford to let anyone into her closely guarded world. She had spent years building up the walls that allowed her to keep living while plastering on a smile for everyone else. She had become quite the actress.<\/p>\n

Marie stared at her own reflection in the mirror as her hand slowly brushed down the length of her hair. Suddenly her hand froze as she considered that thought and finally allowed it to settle. Was that all this was? Whatever this <\/em>was. An act played out by a talented actress? Jean’s mother’s cruel words came back and slapped her as she stared at herself.<\/p>\n

Gold digger!<\/p>\n

Harlot!<\/p>\n

Wretched woman!<\/p>\n

The last one was certainly true. It had been wretched trying to go on after losing her beloved child to the fever. But to then lose the love and trust of her husband as well had been beyond cruel. Madame de Marigny had known exactly how to take her revenge on the beautiful young woman who had stolen her son from her.<\/p>\n

Marie’s hand dropped to her lap.<\/p>\n

You’re walking a wire between pain and desire, and looking for love in between.<\/em><\/p>\n

She dared not speak that thought aloud. Pain was a given, but desire had died along with hope many years ago. So how was it that desire had been rekindled by a handsome stranger who refused to take no for an answer or be deterred by her ill-mannered words? Was she looking for love? Did her heart even know how to love anymore? Was it worthy of being loved?<\/p>\n

Marie lifted her hand to touch her cheek as she continued to stare into the mirror. It was the most honest thing in her life as the reflection did not lie. She was beautiful. Many men had told her so, but it was her mother-in-law who had confirmed it for her. She would not have said so if it were not true, but she had managed to twist it into some kind of weapon to use against her daughter-in-law. It was as if her beauty was some kind of curse because Jean had fallen under its spell.<\/p>\n

Was she a curse? It seemed that those she loved were destined for pain. Did she dare allow Ben Cartwright to take that risk?<\/p>\n

A tear coursed down her cheek, soon followed by another. It wasn’t fair to do that to him. He was a good man and she would not bring her curse against him too.<\/p>\n

Tomorrow.<\/p>\n

Tomorrow she would tell him. Tomorrow she would go back to the life she knew where it was safe and predictable and nobody expected anything more than she was willing to give.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\n
\n
\n

You’re dangerous because you’re honest, you’re dangerous because you don’t know what you want.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Who’s Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses<\/em> by U2 (Adam Clayton, Dave Evans, Larry Mullen, Paul Hewson)<\/p>\n

The heat of the day was slowly slipping behind them as a faint breeze began to blow through the dusty town. The taste of trail dust still lingered as the two friends took their first sip of lukewarm beers. It had been a long haul, driving four hundred steers the long way around to the railhead. Joe closed his eyes as he savoured the taste, ignoring the warmth of the brew. He slowly opened his eyes to see Candy smirking at him.<\/p>\n

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were thinkin’ on more than just that beer.”<\/p>\n

“Could be.”<\/p>\n

Candy took another slug of his beer before nodding towards the barkeep. “If this is the best they can do here, I think we need a whiskey instead.”<\/p>\n

“Living dangerously now, are we?” Joe took another swallow before nodding in agreement.<\/p>\n

“Well you’d be used to that, now wouldn’t you?”<\/p>\n

Joe leaned back in his chair and frowned. “And just what’s that supposed to mean?”<\/p>\n

“Well now, let’s see. That pretty little filly you’ve been watchin’ prance around town is the apple of her daddy’s eye. And he don’t seem too keen on havin’ a two-bit, broken-down bronc buster takin’ his little girl’s arm and draggin’ her off to a Saturday night dance.”<\/p>\n

“Now who’s living dangerously?” Joe glared across the table.<\/p>\n

“Who? Me?” Candy shrugged his shoulders as he took another drink. “I think that little gal’s papa thinks you’re the one who’s dangerous and hanging around Ellie could be dangerous for your health, my friend.”<\/p>\n

“Me? You’re dangerous! ” Joe slumped back into his chair and stared across the room, as if seeing something else instead of the saloon. “Because you’re honest.”<\/p>\n

“I think Ellie’s father would say you’re dangerous because you don’t know what you want. He obviously listens to the gossips and thinks you are chasing after a new girl every week.”<\/p>\n

“He won’t even give me the time of day, so how would he know anything about me?”<\/p>\n

Candy took another slow swallow before carefully placing the glass back on the table. He observed his friend from across the table and suddenly something clicked into place. This wasn’t a fling. Joe was serious about Ellie Harrison.<\/p>\n

“You really like this girl, don’t you?”<\/p>\n

Joe looked like he was going to ignore the question before slowing nodding.<\/p>\n

“How would you know if you haven’t been allowed anywhere near her?”<\/p>\n

The corner of Joe’s mouth quirked into a smile and Candy laughed softly. “Now I think her father might just be right in declaring you a danger to his daughter!”<\/p>\n

Joe raised his hands in a mock surrender. “I have been a perfect gentleman!”<\/p>\n

“Sure! So how have you managed to get the sweet Miss Harrison past her guard dog father?”<\/p>\n

“A gentleman never tells a lady’s secrets. You’d know that \u2026 if you were a gentleman!”<\/p>\n

“I think we need that whiskey, don’t you?”<\/p>\n

“Sure.” Joe nodded as Candy waved over the barkeep.<\/p>\n

“Let’s live dangerously!”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\n
\n
\n

All my lies are always wishes.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ashes Of American Flags<\/em> (by Wilco)<\/p>\n

Roy leaned his chin on his hand and looked sternly at the trio of dirty boys in front of him. It took all of his self-control not to laugh or at least allow a smile to grace his face. The biggest one shuffled from one foot to the other and stared at the floor. Roy could hear the odd sniffle as Hoss tried valiantly to keep himself in check.<\/p>\n

The one in the middle hadn’t said a whole lot, either to defend himself or to offer any kind of support for the other two. As Roy looked at his torn shirt, Roy knew that Sarah Devlin would be giving her boy a good clip around the ear. The Devlins were holding their own on their small ranch, but money was hard to come by and new shirts for recalcitrant little boys took coin that should have been spent elsewhere.<\/p>\n

The one on the end was an interesting mix of defiance and despair. Little Joe was trying his best to look contrite, but Roy knew the boy was just itching to say something. He knew that the laugh he was barely holding back wouldn’t stay put for long if the boy opened his mouth. He was covered from head to toe in mud and looked like something the cat might have dragged in, but changed its mind and left outside.<\/p>\n

Hoss was trying in vain to make eye contact with his little brother. Probably to shut him up and stop him incriminating them all, if Roy knew anything about it.<\/p>\n

Roy decided to take pity on the older boy and he waved a hand towards him. Let him get his story out first before either of the younger boys had a chance to invent something better.<\/p>\n

“Now, Hoss \u2026 suppose you tell me just what in the world got into you boys to think that this was a good idea?”<\/p>\n

Hoss shuffled again and tried to shrink into the floor. Pa was gonna kill him!<\/p>\n

“Well \u2026 it’s umm \u2026 it was \u2026” Hoss finally dared to look up and saw the sheriff’s badge and quickly dropped his gaze to the floor again.<\/p>\n

Little Joe seized the moment and jumped to his brother’s defence. “It wasn’t Hoss’s fault! Honest! He didn’t know we wasn’t \u2026”<\/p>\n

“Wasn’t what?” Roy leaned forward and waited.<\/p>\n

Little Joe swallowed hard and Roy could have sworn he saw the boy’s thoughts jumping around as he grasped for an answer.<\/p>\n

Roy frowned as he knew that Ben had been having trouble with the boy ever since his mama’s death and lying seemed to be becoming a problem. Problem was, Joe didn’t seem to think it was lying. Or a problem.<\/p>\n

“Now, son \u2026 no lyin’ to a lawman!”<\/p>\n

“All my lies are always \u2026”<\/p>\n

“Always, what?”<\/p>\n

“All my lies are always \u2026 wishes. Only sometimes what I wish for don’t happen the right way.”<\/p>\n

“Like whatever hair-brained plan got you all covered in mud?”<\/p>\n

“Yessir!” Hoss groaned.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\n
\n
\n

If we weren’t all crazy we would go insane.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Changes in Latitudes, Changes by Attitudes<\/em> by Jimmy Buffett<\/p>\n

“Have you ever regretted it?”<\/p>\n

Ben drew in a slow breath and considered the question. Regrets? Oh, he’d had more than his fair share, but had he ever regretted leaving Boston and making his way into the untamed wilds of the West? It had been calling him for years, but he had never imagined travelling there with a baby and no wife beside him.<\/p>\n

For the next few minutes, Roy sat and waited. He’d known the man sitting across from him for the better part of forty years. He’d seen him raise three sons and bury a wife and one of those sons. He’d listened as the proud father had privately voiced his doubts and fears as he released his eldest son to pursue his own dreams.<\/p>\n

They’d known each for long enough that there was nothing that was off limits in a conversation. They didn’t always see eye to eye, but their conversations over the years had been honest. And robust!<\/p>\n

“Regretted it?” Ben rubbed slowly at his chin. “No. Not regretted it.” He waved a hand towards the sun sinking slowly behind the barn. The sky had turned a deep shade of crimson. “I’ve seen parts of the world I never expected existed the first time I set foot on a ship. But this \u2026 this land got under my skin. No, I’ve never regretted coming here.”<\/p>\n

Ben took another sip of his brandy and smiled. “Of course, that doesn’t mean I haven’t questioned my own sanity a time or two!”<\/p>\n

Roy laughed as he noted the expression on his friend’s face.<\/p>\n

“Well, those three young’uns of yours sure could have driven any man crazy!”<\/p>\n

Ben nodded as his eyes took on a faraway look.<\/p>\n

“And then there’s the heat when it just makes your toes curl right up inside your boots.”<\/p>\n

“Or the snow’s so thick you could lose your own barn in a storm!”<\/p>\n

“Or them Indians gettin’ it in their heads to start a ruckus.”<\/p>\n

“Or some young army officer, trying to establish his control decides to clear the land of Indians.”<\/p>\n

Roy sobered as he thought on that one. They’d both seen and survived enough of those messes.<\/p>\n

“You know, Ben \u2026 I reckon there’s a little crazy in all of us.”<\/p>\n

“Well, you know what Abel always used to say?” Ben smiled again as he recalled the old captain imparting pearls of wisdom disguised as crusty barnacles.<\/p>\n

“Nope. Just what did the old sailor used to say? Besides, ‘swab that deck harder you lazy good-for-nothing!'” Roy grinned at him as he took another sip of his brandy. He’d heard all of his old friend’s seafaring tales, especially the ones where he had to earn the respect of one grizzly bear of a captain if he was ever going to be allowed to court his daughter.<\/p>\n

Ben laughed as he recalled Abel’s favourite insult to all the new recruits.<\/p>\n

“He’d say that if we weren’t all crazy we would go insane.”<\/p>\n

“Sounds ’bout right!”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\n
\n
\n

Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there’s still time to change the road you’re on.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Stairway to Heaven<\/em> (by Led Zeppelin)<\/p>\n

Adam set his coffee down on the desk and wrapped his fingers together, as if that would somehow help him find an answer. He rubbed at the callouses that had formed on his hands years ago. Those hands had roped steers, skinned rabbits and held his horse’s reins as he’d galloped after bank robbers. They had moved rocks and dug holes for countless fence posts. They had held a gun and fired on rustlers and Indians. They had also held each of his newborn brothers as he had gazed at them in wonder. As Adam stared at his hands, he wondered if they would ever get to do what he really itched to do. Oh sure, he’d helped Joe redesign and rebuild that little cabin, but that wasn’t enough.<\/p>\n

From the day he’d first envisaged a homestead on the bare Ponderosa land and seen it come to life, he’d been fascinated with architecture. The way a building could rise from a pile of freshly hewn timber was like some kind of magic to a young boy. Then his father had actually taken him seriously when he had drawn plans years later to extend their home. He’d never quite been able to describe it to his brothers just how he could see the finished product in his mind well before he ever put pencil to paper. He just could.<\/p>\n

Ben watched silently as his son chewed over his thoughts ever so thoroughly before giving voice to them. Adam had always been a serious type, even as a child. He weighed things carefully and seldom acted impulsively. No, that particular trait had been reserved for his youngest son. Many times he had wished Joseph took after his older brother a little more. Then there were the times he wondered if his eldest hadn’t missed out on some of the joy that Joe took for granted as he followed his heart so easily.<\/p>\n

He’d known this conversation was coming long before Adam had raised it. He’d seen the letters. It was hard to miss the return address of the firm in Boston. He knew that Adam’s friend from college ran that firm. He also knew his son had been offered a job. Many times. His heart ached to think of any of his boys leaving the Ponderosa. He had built a dream and hoped to leave a legacy for them that would carry through to many generations. Except it clearly wasn’t Adam’s dream.<\/p>\n

“Son, nothing is set in stone.”<\/p>\n

Adam raised his eyes to see his father watching him. The same rock-steady countenance he had looked to all his life for wisdom and guidance. He felt torn.<\/p>\n

“Pa \u2026 it’s not that I don’t love this land. Or that I won’t miss living here \u2026 but \u2026 I feel like I’m trying to walk two paths. And that’s impossible.”<\/p>\n

“Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there’s still time to change the road you’re on.”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

She tried to peel me off the pavement, tried to insinuate sometimes I am in danger of going too far. <\/strong><\/p>\n

Not Nineteen Forever<\/em> (by the Courteeners)<\/p>\n

Joe sat with one foot up against the table and the other resting against a chair rung. The glass of whiskey still sat on the table where it had been for the last half hour. He’d wanted a cold beer when he first entered the saloon, but somehow he’d ended up here instead, nurse-maiding some poor, drunken British dandy.<\/p>\n

The fellow had managed to give his name as William Thomas Baines, the Third, no less! Joe had been wondering just how he’d gotten into the seat he was in when Hoss finally made his way back through the saloon door. Hoss was much better at taking care of strays than he was and it was Hoss who had scraped poor William Thomas Baines, the Third, off the floor in the first place. Others were stepping around him and ignoring the man who had drunk his way into a puddle. It was apparently Joe’s job to keep him in the chair while Hoss went looking for some answers.<\/p>\n

“Hoss! Find anything on our friend here?”<\/p>\n

Baines looked up and tried to focus on the giant who loomed over him. “Friends? I’ll drink to that!” He sloshed his glass towards his lips and almost made it. The liquid dribbled down the front of his shirt and onto the chair as he mumbled something incoherent. To Joe it sounded something like he didn’t have any more friends, but he couldn’t be sure.<\/p>\n

“Yep. He’s got a room over at the hotel. Been there three days and it seems he’s done nothin’ but drink since he got here. I got his room key off the clerk so let’s take him back to sleep it off.”<\/p>\n

As Joe shifted to stand up, Hoss leaned towards Baines and grasped at both hands. The drunk wobbled on his feet and both brothers moved to take a side each.<\/p>\n

It was an almost comical affair as they wrangled the man out the door and up the street towards the hotel. All the way there, Baines rambled about the beautiful countryside in England and how the willow trees drooped into the water by the river. He stopped at one point and stared at his own reflection in the mercantile window.<\/p>\n

“No wonder Father and Mother disowned you!” He almost spat the words at himself as Hoss and Joe dragged him onward.<\/p>\n

“You know, the only one who really tried was Elsie.” Baines’ face took on a faraway look as he stumbled into the hotel foyer. “My sweet baby sister.”<\/p>\n

It was like tackling a calf for branding as the trio stumbled up the stairs and Hoss unlocked the door. As they dropped Baines onto his bed, he flung an arm over his face and sighed.<\/p>\n

“Elsie said I drank too much. You know, she tried to peel me off the pavement.” Baines hiccuped as he tried to contain a sob. “Tried to insinuate sometimes I am in danger of going too far. But another continent isn’t far enough.”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\n
\n
\n

Before you accuse me, take a look at yourself.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Before you Accuse Me<\/em> by Bo Diddley<\/p>\n

“Before you accuse me, take a look at yourself!” The raw fury on the young man’s face was as plain as day.<\/p>\n

Roy was used to verbal abuse from drunken cowpokes as he nudged them towards the jail with the end of his rifle. There was something different about this one.<\/p>\n

“I ain’t broken no laws.” The sheriff was known for his even temper and calm demeanour and it had served him well in his years in law enforcement.<\/p>\n

“Unlike me?” The man snarled at him like some kind of rabid dog.<\/p>\n

“Well, Morgan, you did just shoot at my deputy in the street, didn’t ya?”<\/p>\n

“Right after you shot my brother! He’s dead!” The man’s face contorted into a mask of rage as he screamed again.<\/p>\n

“He was robbin’ the bank!” Roy looked at the young man wondering just what was going on inside his head. Why would anybody be shocked that he shot down a bank robber who pointed his gun at the sheriff?<\/p>\n

“After they robbed my family. You’re all the same! You help them thieves because they do it all legal like.”<\/p>\n

Roy caught a glimpse of movement from behind Morgan and he barely shook his head. He could see the barrel of a rifle poking out from behind the nearest building and he didn’t want any more blood on his streets.<\/p>\n

“Now, son, I got no idea what your gripe is with the bank, but it don’t justify robbin’ the place.”<\/p>\n

“No, you wouldn’t get it, would you?” The young man’s hand wavered slightly as a look of defeat crossed his face. “Don’t s’pose you’ve ever had to scratch a living out of the dirt and have those thieving liars take more than they ought.”<\/p>\n

Roy’s hand stayed steady as he held his gun and considered the question. He could see Adam inching closer from behind the lad and he cocked his head sideways a little as if thinking.<\/p>\n

“Nope, I ain’t never worked the land. But if you’ve got a grievance with the bank there are ways of doin’ things, son and ways of doin’ things. And this ain’t the right way.”<\/p>\n

“Like any of you would listen! You high and mighty town folk! You’d just take McNaughton’s side ’cause he holds all the money in this town. Probably bought you off long ago.”<\/p>\n

Roy visibly bristled at the insult. He’d been called all manner of names over the years, but he’d never taken a bribe and he knew he never would.<\/p>\n

“What say you lower that gun and tell me what’s really goin’ on here?”<\/p>\n

Roy waited as Morgan seemed to deflate in front of him. He wasn’t much more than a boy. He sure didn’t want to see Adam forced to shoot him in the back if he refused to put down his weapon and did something stupid.<\/p>\n

Something seemed to shift as the lawman waited patiently.<\/p>\n

“McNaughton’s a crook. He’s stealing homesteaders’ deeds. He’s gotta pay!”<\/p>\n

“He will. If he’s guilty.”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

Even the genius asks questions.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Me Against the World<\/em> by Tupac Shakur<\/p>\n

Adam leaned into the chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to crawl into his own bed. Instead, he sat where he was and watched as his brother shifted once more in his sleep and his thumb slipped out of his mouth. It had taken the better part of an hour to get Joe to be quiet and stop asking questions and Adam worried that he would awaken if he moved too soon. He had wanted to shut the whole conversation down much sooner, but he’d promised his pa and Marie that he could manage a four-year-old for a few weeks and he wasn’t about to be proven wrong by said four-year-old. Of course, he had Hop Sing to help with the job, but he still felt the weight of the responsibility his father had entrusted to him.<\/p>\n

As he stared at his brother’s curls spread against the pillow, he barely resisted the urge to ruffle them with his fingertips. He clenched his fingers together and shook his head at his own thought. Waking Joe intentionally was not a good idea! His mind wandered back to the questions his brother had earlier strung together into almost one interminable sentence and he found himself frowning at the memory. He’d complained more than once to his father that Joe’s curiosity was insatiable and his questions were endless. His father, with his usual wisdom, had reminded him of just how many questions he himself had asked as they had travelled from Boston towards the West and something that happened many years ago. It was a night that still stood out in his memory because a fellow traveller on the wagon train had rebuked Adam for asking too many questions. It was Inger who had leapt to his defence and told the man what she thought. She had told him that even the genius asks questions and the man had snorted at her, saying something about snot-nosed brats who didn’t know when to be quiet and that he wasn’t no genius. Adam smiled at the memory as Inger seemed to have an answer to that comment too.<\/p>\n

Once again, Joe shifted in his sleep and murmured into his pillow. Adam leaned forward and waited to see what his brother would do. He didn’t think he could handle any more questions. He had once joked that if a person’s intelligence was directly tied to how many questions they asked, then Joe was going to be a certifiable genius.<\/p>\n

If only he could fob off his own questions as easily as he had deflected Joe’s. His brother trusted him when he said that Hoss was going to be just fine. That his arm would heal straight and strong after the special surgery that Doc Martin said he needed. That the doctor in Carson City knew exactly what he was doing.<\/p>\n

Adam had always taken a certain pride in his own intelligence. How he wished for ignorance.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

Some of it’s magic; some of it’s tragic, but I had a good life all the way.<\/strong><\/p>\n

He Went to Paris<\/em> by Jimmy Buffet<\/p>\n

Paul scrubbed a hand across his face and felt the itchy stubble. It had been at least three days since he’d had the luxury of sharpening up his razor and cleaning up his face. He hated the unclean feel, but now and again it was simply too time-consuming.<\/p>\n

He had silently considered more than once that it was nothing short of crazy how far he was expected to travel to tend the sick and injured. The wilds of the Nevada territory had held some kind of magical allure when he had first set out from civilisation. Somehow it didn’t quite fit the picture he had built up in his mind. Not that he would trade it for anything, he reminded himself as he pulled on his shirt and buttoned it up. He pushed aside the vague nagging thought of returning to where he had started out from and headed out to check on his current houseguest. The tiny building he called a clinic had only two cots in the outer room. They usually housed temporary patients, but Jake had nowhere else to go and Paul currently had no need of the bed.<\/p>\n

Old Jake Watson looked as if he may have been born old and Paul had been unable to pry his age from the old trapper. His best guess was somewhere in his sixties, based on the man’s recollections, but they weren’t exactly reliable. Jake had fallen asleep the night before, telling him about the time he met the king. Of France! The mind was something that still held so many mysteries and he often had no idea which of the man’s ramblings were true and which were imagined. Instead of worrying about something he couldn’t fix, he’d played along with whatever Jake had to say.<\/p>\n

“Mornin’, Doc.”<\/p>\n

The good cheer in the man’s voice never ceased to amaze him. He knew that Jake was dying and he knew that he’d made it clear to him too. Still, each morning he’d been greeted by the same comment and the same attitude. Alongside a deep hacking cough and a few minutes of gasping for breath. A lifetime spent living outdoors was taking its toll.<\/p>\n

“Morning, Jake. How are you doing today?”<\/p>\n

“Oh, just dandy. Slept like a baby!”<\/p>\n

Paul smothered a smile as he had tried to imagine what the grizzled old face would have looked like as a baby. Before either of them could say anything further, heavy boots could be heard thumping up onto the porch. A fist pounded on the door and Paul hurried to wrench it open.<\/p>\n

“Doc! The boss sent me to get ya. Says the baby’s comin’!”<\/p>\n

Paul frowned at the words. It was far too early for the newest Cartwright baby. He glanced back at Jake as he quickly gathered his things.<\/p>\n

“Don’t you worry ’bout me, Doc. Some of it’s magic; some of it’s tragic, but I had a good life all the way. And I ain’t done livin’ it today.”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Every rose has its thorn just like every night has its dawn, just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Every Rose Has Its Thorn,\u00a0<\/em>by Poison
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

Joe could barely lift his chin off his chest. His head felt like a lead weight and he just knew that the dawn would bring the worst headache he\u2019d ever known. That rotgut whiskey they served at the saloon had nothing on the pulque that somebody had pulled out of the wagon.<\/p>\n

Why pulque? He had no idea, but somehow it reminded him of Clay and all that had slipped through his fingers. Of course, those crazy fanfic writers had brought Clay back into his life from time to time and had him be everything from a villain to Joe\u2019s saviour. He just couldn\u2019t figure out why and his fuddled brain wasn\u2019t helping.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou okay over there?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe lifted his head and tried to look at where Hoss\u2019 voice had come from.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure thing, brother. I\u2019m just great!\u201d Joe tried to nod his head and instantly regretted it. \u201cBut you know, Hoss \u2026 every rose has its thorn \u2026 just like \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEvery night has its dawn?\u201d Hoss thought it was a good analogy, but apparently Joe thought otherwise, judging by the scowl on his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe looked up to see Adam sitting by the campfire with his guitar in his hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019d you spring from?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been here all the time. Don\u2019t you remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNooo \u2026 I\u2019m sure we left home yesterday and you were still in Placerville.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam strummed a few chords as he shook his head. \u201cJoe, you\u2019ve had far too much to drink. How could I possibly have made it from Placerville to here in one day?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStranger things have happened,\u201d Joe muttered to himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike what?\u201d Ben frowned as he noted the state his two younger sons were in.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa!\u201d Two voices chimed together in protest.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow can you \u2026?\u201d Joe stopped mid-sentence as he blinked.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust what is goin’ on here?\u201d Hoss had climbed to his feet and was swaying where he stood. \u201cPa \u2026 you weren\u2019t here a minute ago!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben shook his head at Hoss\u2019 odd comment. \u201cDon\u2019t be ridiculous, Son. I\u2019ve been here all along. How else would you three manage to get anything done without me keeping track of you? It\u2019s not like you are old enough to make your own decisions without checking with me first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all right. You know the writers always get everything sorted out by the end of the hour.\u201d Adam continued to strum at his guitar and Joe caught a hint of Sweet Betsy.<\/p>\n

How he hated that song!<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course they do,\u201d Ben agreed. \u201cIt wouldn\u2019t do to break continuity.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cContinuity!\u201d Joe shouted. \u201cWhat continuity? They can\u2019t keep track of my bedroom let alone who I\u2019m dating. The same folks keep cropping up with different names and you\u2019d think that after all this time they \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe! Wake up.\u201d<\/p>\n

He blinked as he saw the shape of his father before him.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa? Where am I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAt home, of course! In sunny Kansas.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?!!\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I got an emptiness deep inside and I’ve tried but it won’t let me go.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I am … I said,<\/em> by Neil Diamond<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t wanna do that.\u201d Candy held his hand out towards the man he\u2019d once counted as a kid brother.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat would you know about what I want to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

The snarl behind the words was meant to sound intimidating and yet he understood only too well where it was coming from. The scrawny kid standing in front of him was not the boy he\u2019d known back in Montana. That boy had a ready smile and a laidback way of talking. This kid was scared to let down his guard and allow anybody to see inside.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou forget, Griff \u2026 I know you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou knew<\/em> me.\u00a0 A long time ago. You don\u2019t know me! You don\u2019t know nothin\u2019!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know what it feels like to think you are alone.\u201d Candy knew only too well what it meant to find yourself alone in the world with nobody to call kin.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think I\u2019m alone. I know I am. The only person I\u2019ve got that I can rely on is me!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, what? You\u2019re gonna run again? Throw away everything the Cartwrights offered you? Spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder for the law? Great plan, Griff!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s better than stayin\u2019 here and tryin\u2019 to be something I\u2019m not.\u201d Griff\u2019s hand was still twisted in his horse\u2019s reins and he refused to meet Candy\u2019s angry gaze.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what are you then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTrouble.\u201d The word was barely more than a whisper.<\/p>\n

Candy waited as he watched the kid\u2019s shoulders slump. Slowly, he made his way closer.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. You just ran into some trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

Griff raised his head and glared back at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that what you call it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cListen, kid, you got dealt a bum hand. No doubt about it. But every good player knows that a hand only lasts that round. Then you get another deal. You don\u2019t hold onto those bum cards for the entire game.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou really don\u2019t get it, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Candy took another step closer and waited. \u201cThen try and explain it to me. I\u2019m a little slow on the uptake sometimes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Griff didn\u2019t react to the joke and Candy\u2019s smile quickly faded.<\/p>\n

“I got an emptiness deep inside and I’ve tried, but it won’t let me go.”<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, the only way to get rid of an emptiness is to fill it. You\u2019ve gotta put something into that hole and it won\u2019t be a hole for long. Time to start letting it go.\u201d Candy stood and waited, watching the kid to see if he would still climb up onto his horse and run or if he would listen.<\/p>\n

It must have struck a chord because Griff slowly unwound the reins and tied them to the hitching rail instead. When he finally looked up to see Candy watching him, his eyes were slightly less cold and angry than they had been. Something else looked back at him as Candy nodded. He dared not call it hope just yet, but something was different.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/p>\n

No one knows what it’s like to be the bad man, to be the sad man behind blue eyes.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Behind Blue Eyes, <\/em>by Pete Townsend of The Who<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Candy sat atop a fallen tree trunk with one foot stretched out in front of him and the other one resting on a rock. He bit the inside of his cheek as Griff crouched down again, took his foot in both hands and wrestled with getting his boot off as gently as possible.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry.\u201d Griff looked up as Candy sucked in a sharp breath and paused what he was doing.<\/p>\n

\u201cKeep going!\u201d Candy growled through clenched teeth. The pain wasn\u2019t going to stop just because the kid stopped pulling on his foot.<\/p>\n

Griff reluctantly finished what he had started and looked up with alarm as Candy swayed in front of him. He dropped the offending boot and stood up, grasping at his friend\u2019s forearm.<\/p>\n

\u201cCandy!\u201d<\/p>\n

The foreman brushed off his hands as if chasing away a fly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure ya are!\u201d Griff shook his head and once again crouched down. \u201cNow, let me get this stinkin\u2019 sock off and we can see just how bad this is.\u201d<\/p>\n

He peeled back the sock and frowned at the blackening, swollen skin beneath it. He gently probed around the ankle bone and Candy almost shot forward off his seat.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell \u2026. it\u2019s broken.\u201d<\/p>\n

Griff\u2019s laconic way with words amused Candy on most days. This wasn\u2019t most days.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d His voice dripped with sarcasm, but Griff just shrugged his shoulders.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I can get you a second opinion when we get you to the doc, but yeah, I\u2019m pretty sure it\u2019s broken.\u201d<\/p>\n

Before he could make any further remarks, Candy\u2019s face drained of colour.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you need to sit on the ground.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you\u2019re right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Griff leaned forward and eased his friend down from the tree trunk and onto the ground before he fell over. Candy\u2019s face was pale and dripping beads of sweat and Griff quickly ran to grab a water canteen. He pulled off his necktie and dribbled some water into it before wiping his friend\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t know you were such a good nurse.\u201d Candy tried to rustle up a grin, but a tight grimace was the best he could do.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s a lot you don\u2019t know about me. Nobody knows.\u201d The words were muttered, but Candy didn\u2019t miss them. Or the pain behind them.<\/p>\n

The kid he\u2019d last seen running wild in Montana was long gone. The angry young con who\u2019d been reluctantly dragged to the Ponderosa was also gone. Well, he hoped he was. Candy just wasn\u2019t quite sure who had replaced him.<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me something I don\u2019t know.\u201d Candy looked up to see Griff looking anywhere but his way. \u201cSomething to keep my mind off this damn foot while we wait for the others to come back.\u201d<\/p>\n

It had been months and Griff had barely given away anything, either to Candy or anybody else.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo one knows. What it’s like to be the bad man.\u201d Griff hesitated as if he crossed an invisible line. \u201cTo be the sad man \u2026 behind blue eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

The morning sun when it’s in your face really shows your age.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Maggie May, by <\/em>Rod Stewart<\/p>\n

Adam took another sip of his coffee as he leaned up against the corral. He had one boot stuck on the lower rail and his elbows propped on the upper one. The horses milling around were fresh and raw and ready to be broken. There was a small black one that caught his eye and he watched as the animal moved gracefully around the horse in front of her. Her lines were lean and compact and she\u2019d make a good horse for Joe.<\/p>\n

His youngest brother was itching for a real horse as he stated it. A pony was simply beneath him now that Joe had proven he could hold his own on something bigger. It was a shock to come home and realise the scrawny little tyke he\u2019d left behind had grown so much. Of course, Hoss had grown too, but he hadn\u2019t changed. Not really. That same gentle nature was still there and his belly laugh still made everybody else start laughing too.<\/p>\n

No, it was Joe who had changed the most. The little scrapper who had clung to his neck and begged him not to leave had stood awkwardly by the stage office and waited as Adam approached him. For a brief moment, Adam wondered if the kid had forgotten who he was. Then he\u2019d seen a tear trailing down his brother\u2019s cheek and it took all of two long strides to reach him and scoop him up into his arms. As Joe flung his arms around his long-lost brother\u2019s neck once again, he knew he was home.<\/p>\n

It hadn\u2019t been an easy transition and more than once he\u2019d found himself at loggerheads with the boy. Joe had changed the most while he\u2019d been gone and it was taking some adjusting that he was no longer needed. Joe could manage so many things that Adam used to help him with and now he found his brother\u2019s offer to help insulting. Joe had even found a new insult to throw at him when their tempers flared.<\/p>\n

Yankee granitehead!<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t sure if it was the Yankee bit or the reference to his stubbornness that irked him more, but either way, the tag seemed to get under his skin and Joe knew just when to use it.<\/p>\n

Adam felt his insides ache with the thought he\u2019d never again see that little boy and had missed so very much.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you cryin\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s voice startled him out of his thoughts and he coughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe morning sun …. when it’s in your face \u2026.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally shows your age! Widow Jenkins says if ya squint, ya get crowsfeet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you saying I\u2019m old?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam stared at his brother as Joe faltered, wondering if he\u2019d crossed a line with this brother he was still trying to figure out.<\/p>\n

Adam pivoted slowly on the spot.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I can still catch you!\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe took a second to register the slow grin spreading across Adam\u2019s face before sprinting for the front door.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo \u2026. you can\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Tags:\u00a0 Adam Cartwright,\u00a0Angst,\u00a0APM,\u00a0Ben Cartwright,\u00a0Candy Canaday,\u00a0ESA,\u00a0ESB,\u00a0ESH,\u00a0ESJ,\u00a0Family,\u00a0Grief,\u00a0Hop Sing,\u00a0Hoss Cartwright,\u00a0JAM,\u00a0Joe \/ Little Joe Cartwright,\u00a0JPM,\u00a0Marie Cartwright,\u00a0multiple stories,\u00a0Paul Martin,\u00a0Roy Coffee,\u00a0SAS,\u00a0SJS,\u00a0trapped<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: Some more Pinecone Challenges for my pet squirrel to chew over. Each chapter has a lyric prompt and had to be no more than 500 words.<\/p>\n

Word Count: 6315 \u00a0Rating: T<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":9743,"featured_media":15316,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[2,23,41,30,8,40],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15327","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-actionadventure","category-drama","category-hurtcomfort","category-prequels","category-short-stories","category-challenges","wpcat-2-id","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-41-id","wpcat-30-id","wpcat-8-id","wpcat-40-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/IMG_2560.jpg?fit=685%2C627&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15327","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/9743"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=15327"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15327\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/15316"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=15327"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=15327"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=15327"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}