{"id":4643,"date":"2008-06-28T23:29:01","date_gmt":"2008-06-29T03:29:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=4643"},"modified":"2025-02-27T12:12:25","modified_gmt":"2025-02-27T17:12:25","slug":"fine","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=4643","title":{"rendered":"Fine (by pjb)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary:\u00a0<\/span>WHN for “The Last Viking.” Sometimes, protection can come from unexpected sources.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Rated:<\/span>\u00a0K+ \u00a0WC 5500<\/span><\/p>\n

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The crash from upstairs startled,<\/strong> but did not surprise, Ben Cartwright.\u00a0 His older sons jumped at the noise and exchanged glances as their father threw down his napkin.<\/p>\n

“What the devil is he doing now?” snapped Ben, leaving his half-finished breakfast behind as he stormed up the stairs to his youngest son’s room, Adam and Hoss in close pursuit.<\/p>\n

In the four days since Little Joe had been shot while he and Carrie McClain were escaping from the comancheros, the boy had tried to get out of bed three other times, despite the doctor’s strict orders to the contrary.\u00a0 And each time, he’d somehow seemed to be surprised that he ended up sprawling on the floor.<\/p>\n

It wasn’t that Joe was usually a compliant patient, but this reaction to being confined to bed was odd, even for him.\u00a0 As a general rule, he didn’t start fussing about being laid up until at least a few days had passed.\u00a0 This time, though, he’d begun insisting that he was fine almost from the moment he first woke in his own bed.<\/p>\n

It was true that his injuries could have been much, much worse.\u00a0 Through sheer providence, the bullet hadn’t hit any major organs, striking instead against a rib that diverted it upward to lodge behind the boy’s collarbone.\u00a0 While the location created a bit of a challenge for the doctor, it was infinitely preferable to the alternative:\u00a0 had the bullet entered an inch lower, it would have gone between ribs, straight into Joe’s lung, likely killing him within minutes.\u00a0 And though Ben knew enough to be grateful to the Almighty for such protection, Little Joe’s obstinacy was beginning to raise a faint question in Ben’s mind as to whether an injury ever so slightly more serious might not have been preferable, since his youngest son seemed to consider a bullet wound and broken bones to be mere inconveniences, insufficient to warrant bedrest.<\/p>\n

“Joseph!” bellowed Ben as they burst through the doorway to see Little Joe trying to pull himself up from the floor. \u00a0With left ankle sprained, right shoulder wounded, rib broken and collarbone cracked, the boy was having a hard time figuring out which body parts could withstand enough weight and pressure to enable him to stand. \u00a0He was clutching his right arm tightly against his side with his left hand, but he released his grip as soon as he saw his family.<\/p>\n

“What in tarnation do you think you’re doing now!”\u00a0 his father demanded.<\/p>\n

It wasn’t really a question, but Joe responded, “Just thought I’d get dressed and come down to breakfast.”\u00a0 He tried to sound bright and casual, as if he were routinely found lying on his bedroom floor.<\/p>\n

Ben closed his eyes and exhaled hard.\u00a0 He never swore, but this was one of those rare occasions when he almost felt that he could let rip with some choice phrases.\u00a0 Roughly, he took hold of his youngest son’s left arm, prepared to haul the boy to his feet and back into bed.\u00a0 Before he could speak, though, he saw the blood.<\/p>\n

“What the-”\u00a0 He knelt and unbuttoned the placket of Joe’s nightshirt as if his son were a child.\u00a0 He pushed the shirt aside to see that the wound was indeed open and bleeding.\u00a0 Controlling his temper only by great effort, Ben said, “Adam, would you kindly fetch the doctor and tell him that your young brother has somehow managed to pull out his stitches?”<\/p>\n

“Sure, Pa,” Adam said.\u00a0 He shook his head as he squeezed past Hoss.\u00a0 The kid was lucky he was both injured and seventeen years old.\u00a0 Otherwise, a trip across Pa’s lap would probably have been in his immediate future.<\/p>\n

“Hoss, would you give me a hand here?”\u00a0 Ben’s middle son was still standing in the doorway, watching.\u00a0 “Hoss!”<\/p>\n

“What?\u00a0 Oh, sure, Pa.\u00a0 Here, lemme have him.”\u00a0 Ignoring Joe’s protests that he could get up by himself, Hoss scooped up his brother and deposited him unceremoniously on the bed.\u00a0 “You need me for anything else, Pa?” he asked as Ben reached past him to draw the blanket up over Joe.<\/p>\n

Slightly surprised by the question, Ben said, “Would you just get some bandages?\u00a0 We don’t know how long it’ll be before the doctor gets here.”<\/p>\n

“Sure, Pa.”\u00a0 Hoss darted out of the room as if it were the last place in the world he wanted to be.\u00a0 Joe watched him go, green eyes dark with concern.<\/p>\n

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

Doc Martin came down the stairs, rolling down his cuffs.\u00a0 “Well, hopefully that’ll hold him for a day or so,” he said.<\/p>\n

“Appreciate your coming out here-again,” said Ben.<\/p>\n

“Well, you’ll be getting a short break, anyway,” said the doctor.\u00a0 “I gave him a good slug of painkiller before I started, and he should sleep for at least a few hours.”\u00a0 His expression grew serious.\u00a0 “Ben, what’s this all about?\u00a0 Have you talked to him?”<\/p>\n

“What do you mean?”<\/p>\n

“The boy’s stubborn as a goat, but he’s not stupid.\u00a0 He argues about staying in bed, but he usually ends up doing what he’s told, at least for the first few days.\u00a0 But this time-it’s only Tuesday, and this is the third time I’ve been here since I took that bullet out last Friday, and every time, it’s because he’s been up when he shouldn’t be.”<\/p>\n

“You think there’s something else going on?”\u00a0 To be honest, Ben hadn’t considered the question.\u00a0 There had been so many other things to occupy his attention-Gunnar’s burial, moving Abe McClain into town where Carrie would have assistance in caring for him, helping Hoss to deal with his uncle’s death and the knowledge of the life the old man had led.<\/p>\n

Gunnar Borgstrom was the brother of Hoss’ mother and the only person who shared her blood.\u00a0 He and Hoss had never met until a week earlier, when Gunnar showed up unexpectedly.\u00a0 Over the years, Ben had told Hoss what little he knew of Gunnar, but Gunnar was not one to keep in touch.\u00a0 As children, Hoss and Little Joe had filled in the blanks by making up tales of outrageously dangerous escapades in which Inger Borgstrom Cartwright’s wild younger brother had been always emerged triumphant, the hero who battled tirelessly on the side of right.<\/p>\n

The discovery that Gunnar had not been a hero, but one of the comancheros-a group of outlaws who raided, stole and killed-had been very difficult for Hoss to accept.\u00a0 Even harder had been the comancheros’ raid on the neighboring McClain ranch:\u00a0 the comancheros had beaten old Abe McClain badly, and they kidnapped his niece, Carrie, as well as Little Joe, who had been visiting with them.\u00a0 Gunnar had assisted Joe and Carrie in escaping, but even so, Joe had been shot by one of Gunnar’s men.\u00a0 In the end, Hoss watched helplessly when the same man shot Gunnar as the old viking sought to protect both Cartwright brothers and Carrie, and it was Hoss who held his uncle as he died.<\/p>\n

Among the images seared in Ben’s brain from that night was the sight of Hoss, leading his horse while Joe swayed in the saddle, barely conscious, and Carrie walked alongside, her hand resting on Joe’s leg.\u00a0 The bloodstain on Joe’s shirt was spreading even as they drew closer to the place where Ben and his older sons had agreed to meet.\u00a0 What riveted Ben’s attention, though, was the expression on his middle son’s face.\u00a0 Grief, anger, and devastating loss showed in the set of his jaw and the marble-blue eyes.<\/p>\n

It had fallen to Carrie to tell the story:\u00a0 Hoss was focused on caring for his little brother, to the exclusion of all else.\u00a0 As she recounted the facts of their abduction, Hoss lifted Little Joe down from the horse, gently laying him on the ground and barking instructions about what he needed to care for his brother.\u00a0 While she spoke of their escape, describing how Joe had forced her to keep going after he hurt his ankle and couldn’t run, Hoss held the canteen to the boy’s lips and encouraged him drink.\u00a0 She told of Gunnar’s sacrifice, and Hoss was so intent on cutting off the boy’s boot to strap up the ankle that he didn’t appear to hear a word.<\/p>\n

Ben forced his attention back to the issue of his youngest son’s curious behavior.\u00a0 “You don’t think-Joe’s not doing this for attention?”\u00a0 He couldn’t picture such a thing, especially with the household still reeling from Gunnar’s sudden appearance and violent death.<\/p>\n

“No, he wouldn’t,” agreed the doctor.<\/p>\n

“Then why?”<\/p>\n

The doctor shook his head.\u00a0 “I have no idea,” he said.\u00a0 “What I do know is that he needs to be quiet and to stay in bed.\u00a0 I don’t want that wound getting infected, and it may well be starting already-he’s running a bit of fever, and the area feels warmer than I’d like.\u00a0 I cleaned the wound out again when I closed it back up, but you need to keep a close eye on him.”\u00a0 He picked up his bag and met Ben’s gaze squarely.\u00a0 “Ben, he’s putting himself at risk of serious complications.\u00a0 If you don’t think you can keep him down, I’m willing to sedate him.”<\/p>\n

“Do you really think that’s necessary?”\u00a0 It sounded extreme to Ben.<\/p>\n

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t,” said the doctor.\u00a0 “I know that wound didn’t look like all that much to you, but the fact is that, by the time I got to it, the bullet had been in there for more than twelve hours.\u00a0 Hoss tried to clean it out on the trail, but there’s only so much anybody can do under such circumstances, and then the boy had that long ride home, and I wasn’t in the office when Adam got there.\u00a0 And after all that, the way I had to dig to get the bullet would have been hard on Joe even if I’d gotten to him right away.\u00a0 Ben, this is a serious situation, and you all need to treat it that way.”<\/p>\n

Ben considered the doctor’s comments.\u00a0 The truth was that he’d seen-and sustained-much more serious injuries in his time.\u00a0 It hadn’t occurred to him that there was much to be concerned about with this particular injury, beyond keeping the wound clean and the pain under control.\u00a0 He admitted as much to his friend.<\/p>\n

“A gunshot wound is always serious,” replied the doctor.\u00a0 “More so when you can’t get the bullet out right away, and much more so when it gets infected.\u00a0 An innocuous wound can kill a man if infection sets in hard enough.\u00a0 I’ve tried to tell Little Joe this, and I don’t know why he’s not listening, but it’s up to you to see that he does. \u00a0He has to give his body a chance to rest in order to heal, and I’ll sedate him if that’s what it takes.”<\/p>\n

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” said Ben.\u00a0 “I’ll have another talk with him when he wakes up.”<\/p>\n

“That probably won’t be until around suppertime,” said Doc Martin.\u00a0 At Ben’s raised eyebrow, he shrugged.\u00a0 “He needed something for the pain.\u00a0 I had to poke around a bit to make sure the wound was completely clean, and he was hurting pretty badly even before I started-not that he’d have told anybody,” he added.\u00a0 “I strapped the arm in place to keep the shoulder still.\u00a0 I’ve left some medicine that should help if there’s any infection, and I want you to start it tonight, regardless-just follow the directions.\u00a0 There are some powders and a bottle of laudanum on his bureau, too.\u00a0 The powders are to help him sleep.\u00a0 Keep a close eye on him, and if he gets worse, send for me.”\u00a0 He picked up his bag and started for the door.\u00a0 “How’s Hoss doing?” he added almost casually.<\/p>\n

“He’s holding up,” said Ben.\u00a0 “It’s been hard for him.\u00a0 This was the only time he’d ever met Gunnar.\u00a0 He’d have liked to have known him longer.”<\/p>\n

“That’s understandable,” said the doctor.\u00a0 “I take it there are no other relatives on Inger’s side?”<\/p>\n

“None,” said Ben.\u00a0 “But Hoss is handling it.\u00a0 He always does.”<\/p>\n

“Well, give him my best,” said the doctor.\u00a0 “And let me know how Joe’s doing.”<\/p>\n

“Of course.”\u00a0 Ben walked the doctor out to the yard and watched him drive off.\u00a0 As he headed back into the house, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something just wasn’t right.<\/p>\n

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

It was nearly nine o’clock that night before Joe awoke.\u00a0 Even then, his lids were heavy and his eyes were bleary.<\/p>\n

“I wondered when you might join us again,” said Ben gently.\u00a0 He smoothed back the boy’s hair from his forehead and frowned.\u00a0 Joseph was definitely running a fever.\u00a0 He laid a hand against a flushed cheek.\u00a0 “How’re you feeling?” he asked as he poured water into the china bowl and soaked a cloth.<\/p>\n

“Fine,” said Little Joe, teeth clenched to keep them from chattering.\u00a0 He pulled the blanket up to cover his chin as his father wrung out the cloth and laid it, neatly folded, on his brow.\u00a0 Without comment, Ben fetched an extra blanket from the guest room, spreading it over his son.<\/p>\n

“Is that better?” he asked.\u00a0 Joe nodded reluctantly.\u00a0 “Let me take a look at your shoulder,” he added.\u00a0 Joe lay as still as possible while his father uncovered him, unbuttoned his nightshirt and lightly ran his fingers over the wound.\u00a0 Somberly, he rebuttoned Joe’s nightshirt and pulled the covers back up.<\/p>\n

“Well?” Joe tried to sound nonchalant.<\/p>\n

“You’ve definitely got some infection starting,” said Ben. \u00a0“Doc left some medicine, and I’m going to have Hop Sing prepare a poultice.\u00a0 In the meantime, I know he’s got some soup on the stove, and I want you to try to eat something.”<\/p>\n

“I’m not really hungry,” said Joe, knowing as he said it that he had no chance in this particular battle.<\/p>\n

“Even so, you need to eat,” said Ben.\u00a0 “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”<\/p>\n

His older sons looked up as he came down the stairs.\u00a0 “How’s he doing?” asked Adam, one long finger holding his page.<\/p>\n

“There’s some infection starting,” said Ben.<\/p>\n

“You want me to ride for the doctor?” Hoss looked nervous and troubled.\u00a0 If his father hadn’t known better, he’d have said that Hoss also looked guilty.<\/p>\n

Ben smiled.\u00a0 “I don’t think that’s necessary at this point,” he said.\u00a0 “Doc left medicine, and I’m going to have Hop Sing prepare one of his poultices.\u00a0 Hopefully, that’ll take care of the problem.”<\/p>\n

“But how’d it happen?”\u00a0 Hoss seemed almost agitated.<\/p>\n

“According to Doc, a number of factors-including the fact that your young brother wouldn’t take proper care of himself.\u00a0 Hopefully, this will convince him to take it easy for at least a few days.”<\/p>\n

“Is he going to be all right?”\u00a0 Hoss demanded.<\/p>\n

Ben smiled.\u00a0 His two younger sons were so close.\u00a0 “We’ll need to keep an eye on him, but right now, I think he’ll be fine.”<\/p>\n

“Pa, you sure you don’t want the doc?” Hoss was on his feet.<\/p>\n

“I’m sure, son,” said Ben. \u00a0“Why don’t you go on up and see your brother?”<\/p>\n

Hoss looked as if he’d been slapped.\u00a0 “I gotta see to the stock first,” he said.\u00a0 He was out the door before his father or brother could respond.<\/p>\n

“What do you suppose that was about?” asked Adam, one eyebrow raised.<\/p>\n

Ben shrugged.\u00a0 “I don’t know,” he said.\u00a0 “But your brother’s had a rough week, and I think it behooves us all to be a little patient with him.”<\/p>\n

“Of course,” said Adam.\u00a0 “You want me to get the poultice while you go back up to Joe?” he added softly.\u00a0 He could see the look in those deep brown eyes:\u00a0 no matter how much he claimed that there was nothing serious going on, Ben wanted to be by his son’s bedside.<\/p>\n

“I-thank you, son.”\u00a0 Ben cut off his obligatory protest almost at once.\u00a0 He and Adam had been through this too often for pretense.\u00a0 “I’m just going to get him some of that soup that Hop Sing has on the stove,” he added.<\/p>\n

“I’ll get it,” said Adam, as his father knew he would.\u00a0 “You go on back up.”<\/p>\n

And neither of them said any more about how odd it was that Hoss chose checking the stock over checking on his little brother.<\/p>\n

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

Dawn was just breaking when Adam felt himself being roused.\u00a0 “Adam!\u00a0 Wake up!” his father whispered.<\/p>\n

“Huh?\u00a0 Pa, what is it?\u00a0 What’s wrong?”\u00a0 Dreams of a certain lovely young woman in his arms competed with the reality of his father shaking his shoulder.<\/p>\n

“It’s Little Joe.\u00a0 The fever’s higher.\u00a0 I want you to ride for the doctor right away.”<\/p>\n

The woman was instantly forgotten.\u00a0 Adam yanked on his pants and boots and threw on his shirt, buttoning it as he pushed past his father and ran down the hall.<\/p>\n

“Pa?\u00a0 What’s up?”\u00a0 Hoss stood sleepily in his doorway, flyaway brown hair mussed and eyes not quite focusing.<\/p>\n

“Little Joe is sick,” said Ben.\u00a0 “Adam’s gone for the doctor.”<\/p>\n

All traces of sleep vanished.\u00a0 Hoss’ eyes grew wide with trepidation.\u00a0 “Is he gonna be all right?”<\/p>\n

“I hope so,” said Ben.\u00a0 “Would you have Hop Sing make up another poultice and then bring up some cold water and ice?”<\/p>\n

“‘Course,” said Hoss.\u00a0 Barefoot, he padded down the hall as his father went back to Joe’s room.<\/p>\n

Ben poured the last of the water into the bowl and resoaked the compress that had lain across Little Joe’s brow.\u00a0 He wiped the boy’s hot face and then turned to place the cool side on his forehead.\u00a0 “How’s that?” he asked softly.<\/p>\n

“Nice,” Little Joe managed.<\/p>\n

“You just rest,” said his father.\u00a0 “Adam’s gone for the doctor, and Hoss is going to bring up another poultice for you.”<\/p>\n

Little Joe jerked as if startled.\u00a0 “You told them I’m sick?”<\/p>\n

Ben frowned slightly at the peculiar question.\u00a0 “Son, they already knew,” he said gently.\u00a0 “You’ve been sick for a few days.”<\/p>\n

“I’m fine,” Joe insisted weakly.<\/p>\n

More of this.<\/em>\u00a0 “Yes, Joe, you’re going to be fine,” said Ben patiently.<\/p>\n

“Tell Hoss I’m fine,” said Little Joe in a voice so weak that his father could barely understand him.<\/p>\n

“You just rest now,” said Ben.\u00a0 He wasn’t about to be drawn into a pointless argument, not when his son was so sick.\u00a0 “Close your eyes for a little while.\u00a0 The doctor will be here soon.”<\/p>\n

“Don’t need a doctor,” mumbled Joe.\u00a0 “I’m fine.”<\/p>\n

Hoss came into the room in time to hear the last part.\u00a0 He shot his father a questioning look as he carefully poured water into the pitcher and dropped chunks of ice from the pail he carried into the bowl on the bedside table.\u00a0 “Hop Sing’ll have that poultice ready in a minute,” he said to Ben.<\/p>\n

“Hoss.”\u00a0 The boy’s voice was barely audible, but Hoss heard him.<\/p>\n

“How’re you doin’, Shortshanks?” the big man asked with forced jollity.<\/p>\n

“I’m fine,” said Little Joe.\u00a0 “Really.”<\/p>\n

“You sure ’bout that?” said Hoss.<\/p>\n

“I’m fine,” Joe insisted.\u00a0 “Shoulder’s nothin’.\u00a0 I’ll be up in no time.”<\/p>\n

“Joseph, you’re not going to be getting out of that bed again until Doc Martin says it’s all right,” said Ben sternly.\u00a0 He would have gone on, but his youngest son shot him a glare so startling that words failed him for a moment.\u00a0 Just as quickly, Joe’s expression softened, and he turned his attention back to his big brother.<\/p>\n

“I’m fine,” Joe said.\u00a0 “Really, Hoss.\u00a0 I’m fine.\u00a0 Honest.”<\/p>\n

The brothers’ eyes locked.\u00a0 For a long moment, neither of them spoke or moved.\u00a0 Finally, Hoss laid a hand on his brother’s uninjured shoulder.<\/p>\n

“‘Course you are,” Hoss said hoarsely.\u00a0 “You’re jest fine.\u00a0 But you better let Pa bring the doctor in, ’cause otherwise he’ll fret himself to a shadow.”<\/p>\n

“I mean it,” said Joe.\u00a0 His eyes were straining to say more.<\/p>\n

Ben didn’t understand, but Hoss clearly did.\u00a0 “I know, Little Brother,” Hoss said quietly.\u00a0 He looked away from the boy for a moment, and his eyes were as sad as Ben had ever seen.\u00a0 Ben watched as his middle son assumed an encouraging expression and turned back to his brother.\u00a0 “I gotta go and tend the critters,” he said.\u00a0 I’ll see you later.”\u00a0 He patted Joe’s shoulder again and left the room without another word.<\/p>\n

Little Joe had fallen into an uneasy sleep by the time Doc Martin came into the room.\u00a0 Ben was wiping the boy’s face with the cool, wet cloth.\u00a0 “Adam said the fever’s up,” said the doctor without preamble.<\/p>\n

Ben nodded.\u00a0 “Even more since he left to fetch you,” he said.\u00a0 “And Joe still insists that he’s fine.”<\/p>\n

The doctor shrugged.\u00a0 “Well, I’ll do my best to make him right,” he said, unbuttoning Little Joe’s nightshirt.\u00a0 His fingers skimmed the taut, inflamed flesh, and he shook his head as Joe woke.\u00a0 “There could be an abscess forming,” he said.\u00a0 “I’m going to have to open this up.\u00a0 I think we’d better put him under this time.\u00a0 I’m going to need to go in pretty deep to make sure everything’s clean.”<\/p>\n

“No!\u00a0 I’m fine.”\u00a0 The boy’s voice was shaky.\u00a0 “Pa, tell him I’m fine.”\u00a0 Tears welled up in Joe’s eyes.\u00a0 “Tell him, Pa.”<\/p>\n

“Son, I don’t know what this is all about, but you’re not fine,” said Ben.\u00a0 “Your shoulder’s infected, and Doc needs to operate.\u00a0 Then you’ll be fine, I promise.”<\/p>\n

“No, I don’t need an operation, I’m fine,” Little Joe insisted.\u00a0 He blinked hard, but the tears spilled over.<\/p>\n

“Joseph, what is it?”\u00a0 Ben moved from the chair to the edge of the bed, brushing back his son’s curls from the feverish brow.\u00a0 “What’s the matter?”<\/p>\n

The boy scrubbed at his eyes with the cuff of his nightshirt, and Ben suppressed a smile.\u00a0 Little Joe had been out of school since the spring, and he’d been working side by side with his brothers for years, but every now and again, there came a reminder that the seventeen-year-old hadn’t quite finished all his growing up. \u00a0Ben stroked his son’s forehead as fatigue, fever, pain, youth and something else the father couldn’t identify combined to break down Little Joe’s attempts to hold back his tears.<\/p>\n

Ben looked up at his friend.\u00a0 “Paul, would you give us a minute?”<\/p>\n

“Of course,” said the doctor.\u00a0 He closed the door behind him as he stepped into the hallway.<\/p>\n

“Now, what’s all this about?”\u00a0 Ben asked gently.\u00a0 “Doc’ll take good care of you.\u00a0 There’s nothing to be afraid of.”<\/p>\n

“I’m not afraid,” insisted Joe.<\/p>\n

“Then what is it?”<\/p>\n

“I’m fine,” the boy repeated.\u00a0 “I’m fine.\u00a0 Have to be.”\u00a0 He turned his face away from his father to hide his tears.<\/p>\n

“You will be,” said Ben soothingly.\u00a0 “I promise.”\u00a0 Gently, he turned the boy’s face back to him and wiped the tears that had spilled over.\u00a0 “But Doc needs to take care of that shoulder now.\u00a0 Okay?”<\/p>\n

The boy’s eyes were pleading.\u00a0 “Don’t tell Hoss,” he whispered.<\/p>\n

“What?”\u00a0 It was the last thing Ben expected him to say.<\/p>\n

“Don’t tell him I’m sick,” he murmured.<\/p>\n

“Son, Hoss already knows you’re sick,” Ben said, honestly confused now.\u00a0 “Remember?\u00a0 He was just here a little while ago.”<\/p>\n

“Tell him I’m fine,” begged Little Joe.\u00a0 “Promise.”<\/p>\n

“Joseph, what’s the matter?” asked his father.\u00a0 “What are you talking about?”<\/p>\n

“You gotta tell Hoss I’m fine.”\u00a0 Joe’s voice broke.\u00a0 “He’ll believe you.\u00a0 Tell him I’m fine.\u00a0 Please, Pa.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.”\u00a0 His slim body trembled as his father stroked his hot forehead.\u00a0 Ben was no closer to understanding what was troubling his son than he had been before, but it was clear that Little Joe’s fever was higher than they had thought.\u00a0 The boy was past making sense.\u00a0 It was time to get the doctor back in here.<\/p>\n

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

Hoss was forking fresh hay into the stalls when Ben entered the barn.\u00a0 He didn’t appear to hear his father approach as he broke open the bale.<\/p>\n

“There you go, you jest have some lunch,” said Hoss as Adam’s chestnut, Sport, began to munch greedily.<\/p>\n

“Hoss,” said Ben quietly.<\/p>\n

Hoss wheeled around.\u00a0 “Pa!\u00a0 How’s Little Joe?”<\/p>\n

“He’s sleeping,” said Ben.\u00a0 “He came through the operation just fine.\u00a0 Turns out there was an abscess forming, so Doc cleaned it out.”<\/p>\n

“Did Doc have to put him out?”\u00a0 When his father nodded, Hoss asked hesitantly, “How’d he do?”<\/p>\n

“Pretty much as usual,” Ben said.\u00a0 Little Joe always had a difficult time with anesthesia.\u00a0 Both ether and chloroform tended to make him violently ill upon awakening.\u00a0 “But he’s resting now.\u00a0 Adam’s with him.”<\/p>\n

“So, he’s good as new?”<\/p>\n

“Not for a while,” said Ben.\u00a0 “Doc couldn’t close up the wound because of the infection.\u00a0 For now, he’s just packed it and left it open.\u00a0 It’s likely to be a week or more before he can close it.\u00a0 Between that and the broken bones, Doc seems to think Joe’s probably looking at the better part of a couple of months before he’s fully recovered.”\u00a0 As he delivered this news, Ben watched his middle son’s face closely.<\/p>\n

Hoss did not disappoint.\u00a0 His expressions were just as fluid as Little Joe’s.\u00a0 As his father spoke, Hoss’ eyes darkened, and his smile faded to a grim, tight line.\u00a0 His usual optimism was nowhere to be seen.<\/p>\n

And there was something more.\u00a0 The same look he’d worn the night before-the combination of trepidation, nervousness and guilt-flooded the normally genial features, mingled with the sadness his father had seen in the big man’s eyes as Little Joe had insisted that he was fine.<\/p>\n

“He’s going to be fine,” Ben said gently.\u00a0 Hoss grunted, turning his attention back to the barn chores.\u00a0 When he said nothing more, Ben stepped forward and placed a hand on Hoss’, stilling the pitchfork.\u00a0 “What is it, son?”<\/p>\n

Hoss moved away from his father and tossed a forkful of hay into the next stall, and the next one.\u00a0 Just as Ben began to wonder if his son would answer him, Hoss said, “It’s all my fault.”<\/p>\n

“What?”<\/p>\n

“I said, it’s my fault,” said Hoss, his attention focused on the hay.\u00a0 He started to throw another forkful, but Ben stayed his hand.<\/p>\n

“What’s all your fault?” he asked.<\/p>\n

“Little Joe,” said Hoss, not looking up.\u00a0 “Abe, Carrie.\u00a0 What happened at the McClain ranch.\u00a0 All if it.”<\/p>\n

“How is it your fault?” Ben asked, honestly perplexed.\u00a0 “You had nothing to do with it.\u00a0 You didn’t even know what the comancheros did until after it was over.”<\/p>\n

“Uncle Gunnar came here to see me,” said Hoss, still not looking at his father.\u00a0 “He even said so-he said he came to see his sister’s boy.\u00a0 He wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for me.”<\/p>\n

“But that doesn’t make you responsible for what he and his men did,” said Ben.\u00a0 Gently, he took the pitchfork from his son’s hand and leaned it against the wall.\u00a0 “Gunnar was a grown man, and he made his own decisions.\u00a0 You’re not responsible for what he decided to do with his life.”<\/p>\n

“He was my uncle,” insisted Hoss.\u00a0 “He was here to see me.\u00a0 If he hadn’t come, none of the rest of it would have happened.\u00a0 Nobody would have been hurt.\u00a0 Everybody would have been fine.”<\/p>\n

“Including Little Joe,” Ben said slowly.<\/p>\n

Hoss nodded.\u00a0 “Pa, every time I look at him, all I can think of is how he wouldn’t be in that bed, hurtin’ and sick, if it warn’t for me.\u00a0 I know it don’t make sense, but it’s true.”<\/p>\n

“No, son, it’s not true,” said Ben, as the realization dawned fully.\u00a0 Somehow, Joe had understood what no one else had seen, that it wasn’t the comancheros, or even his uncle, that the big man blamed for his little brother’s injuries.\u00a0 And so, Little Joe had done everything in his power to show Hoss that he had nothing for which to blame himself-because Joe was fine.<\/p>\n

Ben’s recent frustration with Joe melted away. \u00a0In its place came unexpected pride.\u00a0 He couldn’t say for certain, but this might have been the first time he’d ever witnessed Joe trying to protect one of his older brothers.\u00a0 Just a few hours earlier, he’d seen Little Joe’s tears as a sign that the boy was still a boy.\u00a0 Now, he wondered if his youngest son might be a whole lot closer to grown up than he’d realized.<\/p>\n

He rested his hand on his son’s arm.\u00a0 “Hoss, you told me after the burial that you’d been able to look into Gunnar’s soul right before he died.\u00a0 Tell me something, son.\u00a0 What did you see?”<\/p>\n

Hoss was silent.\u00a0 At last, he said, “I saw a man who was sorry for what he done.”<\/p>\n

“Did he ask you for forgiveness?”<\/p>\n

“Yes, sir.”<\/p>\n

“And did you forgive him?”<\/p>\n

Hoss nodded wordlessly.<\/p>\n

“Why?”<\/p>\n

Hoss looked at him as if the question made no sense.\u00a0 “He was my uncle,” he said.\u00a0 “An’ he asked me to.”<\/p>\n

It was Ben’s turn to nod.\u00a0 “Hoss, if you could forgive Gunnar, knowing he’d done wrong-how is it that you can’t seem to forgive yourself, when you’ve done nothing?”<\/p>\n

“If it hadn’t been for me, Little Joe wouldn’t be hurt, ’cause Gunnar wouldn’t ever have been here,” said Hoss stubbornly.<\/p>\n

“Gunnar came here because you’re Inger’s son,” said Ben.\u00a0 He tried to meet his son’s eyes, but Hoss’ gaze was fixed on his boots.\u00a0 “Son, he didn’t come here to hurt you.\u00a0 I promise you that.\u00a0 There was no one in the world that Gunnar loved more than your mother.\u00a0 He wouldn’t want her boy to carry his guilt-and especially not now, when he’s already been forgiven it himself.”<\/p>\n

Hoss stood silently for a minute, eyes still cast downward.\u00a0 Then, he turned and picked up the pitchfork.\u00a0 Ben stepped to one side as his son methodically tossed hay into each stall.\u00a0 He wasn’t certain whether to wait or to leave Hoss to consider the matter on his own.\u00a0 Just as he was about to head back to the house, Hoss turned to him.<\/p>\n

“Tell me straight, Pa,” said Hoss.\u00a0 “Is Joe gonna be okay?”\u00a0 His blue eyes, usually so gentle, were fiercely serious.<\/p>\n

Ben smiled.\u00a0 “Yes, son,” he said. \u00a0“Little Joe’s going to be just fine.”\u00a0 He reached for the pitchfork.\u00a0 “Why don’t you go and see for yourself?” he suggested.\u00a0 Hoss hesitated, and Ben cocked his head in the direction of the house.\u00a0 A smile crept over Hoss’ face-smaller, and more tentative than usual, but a smile nonetheless.\u00a0 “Go on,” his father said, taking the pitchfork.\u00a0 The smile spread into a full-blown grin, happiness tinged with relief.\u00a0 The big man began to walk toward the barn door, but then he started to pick up speed.<\/p>\n

And by the time Ben reached the doorway, Hoss was running toward the house just as fast as he could.<\/p>\n

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

The crash from upstairs startled the three Cartwrights at the breakfast table.\u00a0 Ben threw down his napkin.<\/p>\n

“Joseph!” he thundered.\u00a0 It had been only five days since Doc had operated on the boy’s shoulder, which meant three more before he was allowed out of bed.\u00a0 They’d spent the past two days using every means at their disposal to keep him in bed, and their collective patience was wearing thin.<\/p>\n

Ben started to shove back his chair, but Hoss was already on his feet.\u00a0 “I’ll handle this,” he said.\u00a0 Without waiting for an answer, the big man stormed across the living room to the stairs, bellowing, “Dadburnit, you better get your ornery little hide back in that bed right now, Little Brother, or so help me, I’m gonna tie you to the bedposts!\u00a0 You know better than to be up!\u00a0 What the devil’s the matter with you, boy?”\u00a0 And on and on, until Ben and Adam heard the door to Little Joe’s room slam so hard that the crash reverberated through the house.<\/p>\n

Ben’s eyes met Adam’s.\u00a0 For a minute, neither spoke.\u00a0 Then, Adam leaned back in his chair and drawled, “Well, I think that situation’s under control.\u00a0 Like some more coffee, Pa?”\u00a0 He tried to remain deadpan, but they both dissolved into laughter.<\/p>\n

Wiping his eyes, Ben held out his cup.\u00a0 “Thank you, son,” he managed.\u00a0\u00a0And that goes for you two, as well,<\/em>\u00a0he added silently, directing his thoughts to the young men upstairs who were, as always, watching out for each other.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Disclaimer:<\/span>\u00a0All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

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

Summary:\u00a0WHN for “The Last Viking.” Sometimes, protection can come from unexpected sources.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

Rated:\u00a0K+ \u00a0WC 5500<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":142,"featured_media":3478,"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_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[23,41,13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4643","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","category-hurtcomfort","category-whn","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-41-id","wpcat-13-id"],"a3_pvc":{"activated":true,"total_views":5385,"today_views":2},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/4Cartwrights.jpg?fit=849%2C541&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":16163,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=16163","url_meta":{"origin":4643,"position":0},"title":"Colors (by AC1830)","author":"AC1830","date":"March 27, 2018","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0 Colors on the Ponderosa can come from unexpected places.\u00a0 My entry for World Poetry Day. 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