{"id":4778,"date":"2014-04-29T12:44:56","date_gmt":"2014-04-29T16:44:56","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=4778"},"modified":"2025-02-18T19:12:57","modified_gmt":"2025-02-19T00:12:57","slug":"to-know-the-truth","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=4778","title":{"rendered":"The Lady Lawyer Series – #3 – To Know the Truth (by pjb)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary:\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>In the sequel to “The Lady Lawyer” and “Fugue,” beliefs unravel and the lines between guilt and innocence blur as one man’s efforts to protect his brother jeopardize the Cartwrights’ hope for healing and love–and survival.<\/p>\n

Rated:<\/span>\u00a0T \u00a0WC \u00a077,200<\/span><\/p>\n

The Lady Lawyer Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

The Lady Lawyer<\/a>
\nFugue
\n<\/a>To Know the Truth<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0To Know the Truth<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
\n

They that trust in their wealth, and boast themselves in the multitude of their riches; none of them can by any means redeem his brother. . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

Psalm 49:6-7<\/p>\n

Part 1: The best-laid plans of mice, men and lawyers go oft awry<\/em>
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

Raucous shouts and beer-fueled cheers spilled over the batwing doors into the street. A slight young man in a green jacket flew backward through the saloon doors as though propelled by an explosion. He landed on his back in the half-frozen mud of C Street where he lay for a moment, clearly stunned. Then, he gathered himself and barreled back through the still-swinging doors, jaw clenched and fists raised.<\/p>\n

From down the block, Hoss Cartwright saw it happen. He backhanded the lapel of his brother\u2019s yellow coat and said shortly, \u201cSilver Dollar.\u201d Adam Cartwright muttered an expletive much earthier than most people would have expected from a Harvard graduate, and the two men broke into a run.<\/p>\n

By the time they reached the saloon, the shouts of encouragement had taken on a slightly panicked tone. \u201cThat\u2019s enough!\u201d yelled one fellow. \u201cYou\u2019re gonna kill him!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got him, Cartwright!\u201d cheered another. \u201cThat\u2019ll show \u2019im!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet him up!\u201d a third demanded.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomebody get the sheriff!\u201d the bartender thundered.<\/p>\n

Hoss and Adam burst into the room to see a large man bent over something\u2014or someone. A flash of green jacket told them all they needed to know. They shoved spectators aside as the large man grabbed the green sleeve before the clenched fist of the smaller man could descend again onto the figure beneath him on the floor.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re gonna kill him, Cartwright!\u201d shouted the man who held the arm that strained to free itself.<\/p>\n

\u201cI got him, Hank!\u201d Hoss called out, taking hold of the green jacket. \u201cJoe! Joe! Listen to me, Joe. Stop it, now! Jest stop it!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s like he don\u2019t even hear us,\u201d Hank said, shaking his head as he stepped back.<\/p>\n

Adam knelt beside the umoving figure on the floor as Hoss hauled Joe to his feet. \u201cHe\u2019s alive,\u201d he announced to nobody in particular, careful to conceal his relief.<\/p>\n

As if to prove him right, the unshaven man on the floor groaned, his eyes fluttering open. \u201cWhere is he?\u201d he growled. Adam couldn\u2019t tell whether the man\u2019s words were slurring from being knocked out or from whiskey.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s leaving,\u201d said Adam, sitting back on his heels. A couple of other fellows, equally unkempt, helped their friend to his feet. As the man stood upright, Adam realized with a start that he probably had a good six inches and at least eighty pounds on Little Joe.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Joe, let\u2019s go.\u201d Hoss was still holding Joe\u2019s arm, but Joe was struggling to pull free. \u201cWe gotta go now, Joe. Come on, let\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n

For a second, Adam stayed where he was, watching them. Hoping against hope. But Joe wasn\u2019t looking at Hoss, and he wasn\u2019t making a sound. Adam caught Hoss\u2019s eye, and Hoss nodded grimly.<\/p>\n

Adam muttered a word his father would definitely not have approved of. \u201cSam, what do we owe you?\u201d he asked the bartender, taking out his wallet.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Little Joe\u2019s part comes to about a hundred dollars,\u201d said Sam. \u201cJake and Nate can pony up for the rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJake Gillette,\u201d Sam said, nodding toward the dazed man who had been settled into a chair. \u201cStarted things up with young Nate Miller. They were playing poker. Jake said Nate was cheating and started in on him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNate Miller? He\u2019s not even as big as Little Joe!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d said Sam. \u201cBut Jake took a swing at the kid, and the next thing I knew, Little Joe went flying across the room like he was shot out of a cannon. Landed on Jake\u2019s back and started pounding like nothing I\u2019ve ever seen. Jake came around, but Little Joe did a pretty good job of holding his own, and then he got a lucky punch and Jake went down, and\u2014well, you saw the rest.\u201d He lowered his voice. \u201cI\u2019ll tell you, Adam, I was gettin\u2019 a little nervous. I\u2019ve seen your brother in plenty of fights, but this was different. I swear, if somebody hadn\u2019t stepped in\u2014I don\u2019t know but that Little Joe might not have killed him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam forced himself not to change expression. \u201cHere,\u201d he said, peeling off more bills. \u201cThat\u2019s Jake and Nate\u2019s share. Sorry about the trouble.\u201d He went over to where Hoss was still trying to get Joe to leave, and he laid a hand on Joe\u2019s mud-streaked back. As he\u2019d expected, Joe\u2019s head snapped around, but he didn\u2019t look at Adam.<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy, Joe,\u201d he said in a low voice. \u201cEverything\u2019s all right.\u201d Joe\u2019s breath still came hard and fast, and Adam detected trembling beneath the young man\u2019s jacket. \u201cLet\u2019s get going now. Pa\u2019s expecting us for supper, and we don\u2019t want to be late.\u201d He continued talking in quiet, soothing tones as they guided Joe out of the saloon. Outside, he saw Roy Coffee coming from their left. He and Hoss exchanged the briefest of glances, and without comment, they pulled their hat brims down and turned Joe to the right, heading away from the saloon. Dealing with Roy could come later.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cA hundred dollars! What in tarnation did you do? Break up the entire saloon?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben Cartwright glowered at each son in turn, but none of them looked up from his plate. Unfortunately for Joe, his blackened left eye was on the side nearest to his father, a fresh reminder of his foolishness every time Ben looked in his direction.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph, exactly what happened?\u201d his father demanded.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s like I said, Pa\u2014\u201d Adam began.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph. Tell me what happened.\u201d Ben\u2019s tone left no room for equivocation.<\/p>\n

Joe drew a deep breath and looked up. \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d He watched as the significance of his answer registered on his father\u2019s face. For an instant, raw grief flared in the deep brown eyes. Then, just as his son had done, Ben drew a deep breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you remember going into the saloon?\u201d His voice was still authoritative, but his sons heard the slight shakiness in the question.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d Even though it was the answer that was likely to lead to more of his father\u2019s temper, Joe was grateful to be able to admit it.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich of your brothers was with you?\u201d The shakiness had vanished, and a growl of anger had taken its place.<\/p>\n

Joe turned his attention to his plate again. \u201cWell, sir, I\u2014it was just\u2014I was only going to be there a minute\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben laid down his fork and turned to his elder sons. \u201cWhich one of you was with him?\u201d The question could probably have been heard out in the barn.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Pa\u2014me and Adam figured\u2014I mean, we just had a few errands to do, and we thought we\u2019d split \u2019em up and then we\u2019d have time for a beer before we came back. Joe finished his lot first, that\u2019s all.\u201d Hoss winced slightly, almost as though their father had already thundered his displeasure.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou split up the errands.\u201d Ben glared at each of his sons, all of whom were now trying not to cringe at the tone they\u2019d heard since childhood.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was my idea,\u201d Joe volunteered with a quick warning glance at his brothers.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour idea.\u201d Ben Cartwright had a way of making a simple statement sound utterly absurd. \u201cAnd your brothers went along with it.\u201d Fixing each of his sons a piercing glare, he demanded, \u201cHave we not discussed this enough? Do we need to go over it again?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Pa, we don\u2019t.\u201d Joe\u2019s voice was unexpectedly sharp, almost disrespectful. He met his father\u2019s fierce expression with one of his own. \u201cHoss wanted to go see Anna, Adam had to go over to the land office about that deed, and I just wanted a few minutes by myself. There was no reason to think there was going to be a problem. So if you want to blame somebody, blame me. You can take the damages out of my wages.\u201d He shoved back his chair and threw down his napkin as he stood.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust a minute, young man!\u201d His father\u2019s voice stopped him before he could take the first step away from the table. \u201cSit down.\u201d When Joe had obeyed, Ben continued, \u201cWhat happened today is exactly the reason you weren\u2019t supposed to be left alone. I understand that you\u2019re tired of being watched, but for now, there\u2019s no choice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was just a fight!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWas it? From what your brothers are saying, this was a good deal more than \u2018just a fight.\u2019 Sounds like if someone hadn\u2019t stepped in, you could have caused Jake Gillette some very serious harm.\u201d He watched as Joe ducked his head, biting his lower lip. Ben relaxed his stance slightly. \u201cJoe, I recognize that you don\u2019t like living this way, but until these fugues pass completely, we simply can\u2019t afford to take chances.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what if they never pass?\u201d It was more than a question. It was a challenge. Joe lifted his chin defiantly, almost daring his father to answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019re you talkin\u2019 about?\u201d Hoss sounded appalled at Joe\u2019s suggestion. \u201cOf course, they\u2019ll pass. You\u2019ll see. Heck, they already don\u2019t happen near as often as they used to.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut they still happen,\u201d Joe said. \u201cIt\u2019s been months since it all started, and the fugues are still happening, and the nightmares still come. What if this is permanent? What are you all going to do then? Hire somebody to follow me around for the rest of my life?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think you\u2019re getting ahead of yourself, Joe,\u201d said Adam. \u201cFrom what Doc said, a few months isn\u2019t a very long time under the circumstances. Think about what you went through\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d rather not, thanks,\u201d Joe snapped.<\/p>\n

Adam held up his hand, surrendering the point. \u201cBesides, Hoss is right\u2014today was the first one in more than a week, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSix days.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, almost a week. But back during your trial, you were having them a couple times a day, so this is still a real improvement, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, it\u2019s great,\u201d said Joe. \u201cI\u2019ve got to finish cleaning the tack room.\u201d He started to rise, but again, his father\u2019s voice stopped him.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph.\u201d Ben caught his son\u2019s hand. \u201cI know this is hard for you, but you just can\u2019t take off on your own. It\u2019s too risky.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you saying I can\u2019t even go out to the barn by myself?\u201d Joe sounded incredulous, but when his father was silent, he shoved back his chair. \u201cI\u2019ll be in my room,\u201d he said, biting off the words as he stormed across the living room and pounded up the stairs.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re sorry, Pa,\u201d said Hoss after the slam of Joe\u2019s bedroom door had echoed through the house. \u201cHe\u2019s been doing so good lately that when he suggested it, we thought it would be all right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long did it last?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were about halfway home when he came back,\u201d said Adam, employing the term the family used to describe the point when Joe came out of a fugue state and was again fully present. \u201cI couldn\u2019t tell from what Sam said whether or not Joe was in the fugue before Jake attacked the Miller kid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid Joe say anything at all during the fight?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cSam didn\u2019t say,\u201d said Adam. He understood what his father was really asking.<\/p>\n

Joe had never spoken during a fugue. No speech, no eye contact. And no memory afterward of what had transpired. It was as though his mind simply went missing for a time and there was nothing anybody could do about it.<\/p>\n

Just like last fall, when Joe was charged with murdering that drifter. The family hadn\u2019t known about the fugues before that time\u2014Joe had been keeping that information to himself as he tried to sort out what was happening. But when he came home with a knife gash in his arm and blood all over the front of his jacket\u2014far too much for it to be his\u2014he admitted that he\u2019d been having these memory lapses and that he just plain didn\u2019t know what had happened. A few hours later, the sheriff had arrived at the door to arrest Little Joe for the murder of one Frank Grayson, who had been found in an alley with a knife shoved between his ribs.<\/p>\n

Ben shuddered at the recollection. To this day, Joe had no memory of what had happened in that alley. They\u2019d been fortunate to locate the two witnesses whose accounts enabled them to piece the story together. It turned out that Joe had intervened in Grayson\u2019s attack on a twelve-year-old Chinese girl. The blood on Joe\u2019s jacket had come from the bleeding child as he\u2019d carried her out of the alley. The knife in Grayson\u2019s chest was the one the drifter had used to slash Joe\u2019s arm as they fought. The little boy who\u2019d seen it all said that the two men fell while they were fighting over the knife. Precisely how it had been driven into Grayson\u2019s body would forever remain a mystery.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you see Anna today?\u201d Ben asked suddenly, turning to his middle son.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d Hoss\u2019s fork paused on its way to his mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe said you were going to see Anna. I was just wondering how she\u2019s doing. We haven\u2019t seen her in a while.\u201d If Ben hadn\u2019t already known the last part sounded weak, Adam\u2019s poorly-hidden grin would have made it clear. No two ways about it: whatever skills Ben Cartwright possessed, matchmaking wasn\u2019t one of them.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s fine,\u201d said Hoss. He ate the piece of beef on his fork and stabbed another even as he chewed.<\/p>\n

The remainder of the meal passed in silence, punctuated only by the clink of silverware against china and the sounds of chewing and drinking. Ben was just folding his napkin when a light footfall drew his attention to the stairs. He pretended not to notice as Joe crossed the living room, looking up only when his son paused by the sideboard.<\/p>\n

\u201cI still need to finish cleaning the tack room,\u201d Joe said. His earlier anger had been reined in to a tightly-controlled tension.<\/p>\n

Ben resisted a mighty urge to suggest that Joe finish his supper first. His son was old enough to decide for himself when he was hungry. Instead, he said, \u201cIt\u2019s pretty cold tonight. Can it wait until morning?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose.\u201d The words were barely audible, and Ben\u2019s heart ached.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to work on breakin\u2019 in that new saddle of mine,\u201d Hoss announced. \u201cDon\u2019t suppose you\u2019d be up for a little ride, would you, Joe? We could work on the tack room after.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I just\u2014never mind, I\u2019ll do it tomorrow.\u201d Joe turned and headed back upstairs, but not before his father saw a glint of anguish in his son\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, wait! I\u2019m done here\u2014we can go out now!\u201d Hoss called, but his brother was already climbing the stairs. \u201cDoggone it,\u201d the big man muttered. \u201cYou reckon I ought to go talk to him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLeave him be,\u201d said Ben. \u201cIf he changes his mind, I\u2019m sure he\u2019ll let you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUnless you\u2019ve already left,\u201d Adam added.<\/p>\n

\u201cAw, I wasn\u2019t really goin\u2019 anywhere,\u201d Hoss admitted. \u201cI just figured he might want to get out of the house.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben smiled, a reaction that caught him by surprise. He should have known. Hoss would go to any lengths to take care of his little brother.<\/p>\n

Yawning, Ben rose. \u201cI don\u2019t know about you two, but I\u2019m worn out. I think I\u2019m going to turn in.\u201d He started for the stairs, but Hoss\u2019s voice stopped him.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, what if Joe\u2019s right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout what?\u201d He tried to sound as though he didn\u2019t know what Hoss meant. As though he hadn\u2019t lain awake many a night over the past few months, pondering the selfsame question.<\/p>\n

Hoss\u2019s blue eyes were dark with concern. \u201cWhat if this whole fugue business\u2014what if it never goes away? What are we gonna do?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben looked from one son to the other. The truth was that there was nothing any of them could do, apart from keeping Joe safe. For men accustomed to helping and fixing and doing, this feeling of impotence was a hard one. The notion that Joe might never be better\u2014that he might experience these fugues forever\u2014tore at a father\u2019s heart. And, he suspected, at a brother\u2019s, too.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are we gonna do, Pa?\u201d Hoss pressed.<\/p>\n

Ben met his son\u2019s eyes and told the truth: \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201c. . . and Sam\u2019s pa is giving us some land as a wedding present, and Sam and his brothers are building the house on it, only I\u2019m not allowed to see it until they\u2019re all done because he wants to surprise me, but he told me about it \u2019cause I kept asking and asking where we were going to live, and so finally. . . .\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Joe drifted in and out of sleep as the girl chattered. His stomach was still queasy and his mouth tasted sour, but he managed a wink at the frail-looking old man sitting across from him. From the moment they\u2019d boarded, Mary Ann Sawyer had talked of nothing but Sam and their upcoming wedding, which would take place on her sixteenth birthday, two weeks away. At one of the rest stops, old Mr. Ziegler had said quietly to Joe, \u201cI have a feeling Sam\u2019s probably the quiet type.\u201d At Joe\u2019s questioning look, he added, \u201cWhat choice does he have?\u201d The two men chuckled as they reboarded the stage, and Joe closed his eyes as Mary Ann regaled them with still more details about Sam.<\/p>\n

Then, a chilling scream ripped Joe from slumber. Instantly alert, he shushed Mary Ann with a word. The whoop of the Indians was getting closer. The driver yelled to the team to go faster, and Joe shoved Mr. Ziegler and Mary Ann to the floor of the stage. He crouched at the window, firing, as the galloping and whooping drew nearer. An instant later, they were surrounded by screeching red men who fired arrows and rifles at them. Joe saw the driver topple and fall past the window, and almost at once, the stage crashed to its side, flinging the three of them to the ground. The door on the other side opened, and the first of the braves dropped himself in. . . .<\/p>\n

And then, they were outside, and he was trying to hold onto Mary Ann, but one of the braves slammed something against the back of his neck that made him fall like a brick wall, and two others yanked her from his arms. He tried to get up as she screamed, but they hit him again, and he could hear the harsh laughter. He struggled, and they held him, still laughing, as the tallest brave tore her dress, exposing her breasts. Then, there were too many Indians in the way, and he couldn\u2019t see her, but he could hear her screaming and sobbing, first in terror, and then in agony. He tried to call to her, but they hit him over the head, and he fell to the ground. He tried to crawl to her, and one of them pulled his arms behind him, kneeling on his back as he grabbed a handful of Joe\u2019s hair and yanked his head up so that he couldn\u2019t help but see exactly what was happening, what one savage after another was doing to this lovely young girl. He screamed at them to stop, and the brave laughed as he pressed the blade of a dagger against Joe\u2019s throat. . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, wake up! Joseph!\u201d<\/p>\n

His chest heaved as he sat up, suddenly released from their hold. Tears scalded his cheeks as he choked, \u201cLeave her alone! I\u2019ll kill you!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, it\u2019s Pa. It was just a dream, son. You\u2019re home now. It\u2019s over, you\u2019re all right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Slowly, the deep, gentle voice penetrated his consciousness. As the hushed words began to make sense, the violence of the scene gradually gave way to the familiar comfort of his own room. The image of the girl and the brutal attack faded as mist, and finally, he saw his father sitting on the bed next to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa,\u201d he said, his voice breaking.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, son, it\u2019s Pa,\u201d Ben said, reaching for Joe at last. The anguish on his son\u2019s face before he remembered where he was\u2014it was enough to break a father\u2019s heart, but Ben knew from hard experience to wait until Joe was fully awake to touch him. Now, he drew his son close, stroking Joe\u2019s hair as the young man\u2019s trembling fingers dug into his father\u2019s back. He smoothed the unruly curls over the scar at the base of Joe\u2019s hairline as he murmured, \u201cIt\u2019s all right, you\u2019re safe now. It was just a dream. They\u2019re gone, they can\u2019t hurt anyone any more.\u201d He kept repeating the well-worn litany until he felt Joe relax. Then, he just held him close, praying once again for something, anything, he could do to erase the memory from his son\u2019s mind.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he okay?\u201d came Adam\u2019s voice.<\/p>\n

Joe lifted his head to see his brothers standing in the shadows at the foot of his bed. \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d he said as he scrubbed at his face with his cuff. Fine. A word that could mean anything or nothing at all. Right now, it meant that he was awake, that he knew where he was. Sometimes, that wasn\u2019t the case.<\/p>\n

Hoss disappeared from the room, returning with a small glass. \u201cHere you go, Little Brother,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Joe managed a small grin as he took the glass. Brandy was their father\u2019s cure for whatever ailed a man, but Hoss knew better. The pungent aroma of whiskey filled his nostrils, and he tossed it back, welcoming the burning trail as it trickled down his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Brother,\u201d he said, handing the glass back. \u201cI\u2019m sorry I woke everybody. You all go back to bed. Really, I\u2019m fine.\u201d\u00a0Go on,<\/em>\u00a0he urged them silently. He understood all too well why they\u2019d rushed to his room, but that didn\u2019t make it any easier to face them when he had tears running down his face like a schoolboy.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou two go on,\u201d agreed Ben. Reluctantly, Adam and Hoss left the room, their \u201cgood nights\u201d somber and lacking in conviction.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can go back to bed, too, Pa,\u201d said Joe. \u201cI\u2019m okay, really.\u201d<\/p>\n

But it was an expression of hope more than fact, and Ben knew it. However much Joe claimed to be fine, the truth was that talking about the dreams seemed to help. Things that couldn\u2019t be said in the light of day were somehow slightly less forbidden in the dead of night. And so, Ben masked his own pain as first he asked, and then he listened.<\/p>\n

Now, he rested his hand on Joe\u2019s arm. \u201cWhich one was it?\u201d he asked quietly. Ghosts of which torture, which victim\u2014the stagecoach driver, Mr. Ziegler, or\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cMary Ann.\u201d Joe dropped his head into his hands. \u201cWhy couldn\u2019t they have left her alone? All she wanted was to get married. Why couldn\u2019t they have just killed her if that was what they wanted to do? Why did they have to\u2014why couldn\u2019t they\u2014why did they have to do that to her? I tried\u2014Pa, I tried my best\u2014but I couldn\u2019t stop them, and she was screaming for somebody to help her. . . .\u201d His shoulders shook, and Ben rubbed his arm as Joe fought down the anguish and grief.<\/p>\n

Eventually, Joe sat up, wiping his eyes. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said. \u201cYou have to get up in the morning. I\u2019m sorry I woke you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSsssh, none of that,\u201d said Ben, handing Joe the handkerchief he now kept in the pocket of his dressing gown. \u201cI just wish there was something I could do to make it better.\u201d An understatement, to be sure. He\u2019d sell the Ponderosa for a dollar silver if doing so meant the barest chance of healing Joe\u2019s agonies.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo do I,\u201d said Joe. He leaned back against the pillows his father had arranged. \u201cThanks,\u201d he whispered. For the pillows, for the handkerchief. For listening, for comforting, for coming to his bedside night after night without complaint. For walking this long road with a son whose torment might never fade, might never let any of them return to a normal life.<\/p>\n

Ben squeezed Joe\u2019s hand. \u201cYou ready to try going back to sleep?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shook his head. \u201cI think I\u2019m going to read for a while,\u201d he said. \u201cMaybe I\u2019ll figure out who blew up the Hawthorn City Bank before Inspector Dodge does.\u201d Joe\u2019s fondness for detective stories was unshared by the rest of the family, but that had never dulled his enthusiasm for recounting the various plot twists over breakfast. Recently, the stories had served a more important function than mere entertainment: they provided Joe with frivolous distraction until his mind had moved far enough away from the attack to enable him to sleep.<\/p>\n

Sorrow rose in Ben\u2019s heart once more as he regarded his son. No one should have to know what this young man knew about the horrors one person could inflict on another. \u201cI\u2019ll tell you what,\u201d he said. \u201cYou just relax, and I\u2019ll read. Maybe I\u2019ll figure out who did it before you do.\u201d In years gone by, he had often read his young sons to sleep, his deep voice lulling and soothing restless little boys. In the weeks since the trial, when he was at a loss to help his son, they had found that reading aloud\u2014even those ridiculous detective stories\u2014seemed to help Joe quiet his mind enough to keep the terrors at bay.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, you don\u2019t have to do that,\u201d said Joe. \u201cI\u2019m fine. I just want to read for a little while.\u201d He sounded steady enough that Ben nearly accepted his words. Then, in the low light, he saw his son\u2019s chin quiver.<\/p>\n

So, he turned up the flame in the bedside lamp just a bit, settled himself into the bedside chair, and began to read aloud. Joe closed his eyes, letting the sound wash over him, paying less attention to the words than to the warmth and security of his father\u2019s voice. Eventually, he felt himself becoming drowsy, and he opened his eyes slightly as he murmured, \u201cPa?\u201d When Pa paused, Joe said, \u201cI\u2019m going to go back to sleep now\u2014but if you want to borrow that, feel free.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben smiled. \u201cI don\u2019t think so, but I appreciate the offer,\u201d he said lightly, marking his place. He brushed Joe\u2019s hair back from his forehead. \u201cYou sure you\u2019re all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d said Joe. \u201cYou\u2019d better get to bed, or you\u2019ll never get up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI might sleep the day away at that,\u201d said Ben. He searched his son\u2019s eyes for reassurance that the young man was truly as all right as he claimed. Finding no real answer, yea or nay, he contented himself with his standard line: \u201cYou call me if you need me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine, Pa,\u201d Joe repeated\u2014his own standard answer. \u201cGood night.\u201d He closed his eyes as his father blew out the lamp and left the room. In the darkness, he forced himself to focus on the memory of his father\u2019s rich baritone reading a silly detective story until the screams of a young girl receded to a corner of his mind.<\/p>\n

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

At the knock, the hotel room\u2019s sole occupant set down his newspaper. He adjusted his spectacles as he drew his watch from the pocket of his waistcoat. Smiling, he nodded his approval at their promptness. Even so, he called out, \u201cWho is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s me,\u201d came a breathy, high-pitched voice that sounded like a schoolboy.<\/p>\n

Marcus Tucker strolled across the room and unlocked the door. He frowned at the single man before him. \u201cWhere are the others?\u201d he demanded without preamble.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019ll be here in a minute. They\u2019re just putting the horses away.\u201d The newcomer towered over Marcus, as thin as Marcus was plump. While Marcus had wispy blond hair, the other man\u2019s hair was rich and lustrous; his dark brown eyes were far more compelling than Marcus\u2019s bulging, pale blue eyes, and his strong jaw was a distinct contrast to Marcus\u2019s receding chin. Only the fierce red scar that covered most of the left side of his face could be said to have leveled the field between the two.<\/p>\n

Marcus grunted. \u201cI said to be here at five o\u2019clock.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I\u2019m here,\u201d the tall man pointed out.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll of you,\u201d said Marcus. \u201cWho has the information?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have some.\u201d The tall man extracted several papers from his saddlebags. \u201cDo you want to see it now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll wait. It builds character.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what Mama used to say,\u201d the tall man nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Elias, I know, I was there.\u201d Marcus tried not to sound too weary. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you go and clean up while we\u2019re waiting?\u201d As he expected, his younger brother obediently pulled off his neckerchief and poured water into the washbowl.<\/p>\n

By the time another knock came on the door, Elias had washed up and changed into a clean shirt. Marcus unlocked the door to admit four dusty cowboys. He resisted the urge to suggest that they, too, clean up.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, gentlemen. What do we have?\u201d Marcus looked from one to another. \u201cCarson. Tell me what you found out.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man who responded was as nondescript as a man could be. Average build, regular features, a couple days\u2019 growth of beard, hair of no particular color, not even a distinctive accent. Nobody ever remembered him. It was one of his best qualifications for the job.<\/p>\n

\u201cGimme the map, and I can show you,\u201d he said. Elias handed over the map, and Carson spread it out on the table. \u201cThe train runs right across here and around here,\u201d he said, pointing. The others bent over the map as he continued, \u201cIf we blow up the track right here, they\u2019ll be coming around a curve just before, and they\u2019ll never be able to stop in time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus nodded approvingly. \u201cPiper. How much will the train be carrying?\u201d<\/p>\n

A man who could have been Carson\u2019s twin said, \u201cFifty thousand in gold bars.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus stroked his chin. \u201cGold bars,\u201d he said with distaste. \u201cThey\u2019ll be hard to transport and harder to exchange without being noticed. Will there be any cash on board?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t know yet,\u201d said Piper. \u201cI expect word within the week.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus nodded approvingly. Piper had a cousin who had been working as a clerk for Wells, Fargo & Company since its beginnings in 1852 and who was ready to move on. They\u2019d had a series of meetings in San Francisco, and they\u2019d agreed upon a price for certain information. So far, Piper\u2019s cousin had been holding up his end of the bargain well.<\/p>\n

Marcus turned to the third man, a virtual replica of Piper and Carson. \u201cWatson, what about the equipment?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all set,\u201d said Watson. \u201cEdwards and me\u2019ll be picking it up on Tuesday.\u201d Edwards nodded enthusiastically. Even inside, he kept his hat on. Red hair was just too noticeable, Marcus always said. If he hadn\u2019t been another of Piper\u2019s cousins, Marcus wouldn\u2019t have let him anywhere near the operation.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust be careful,\u201d Marcus said now. \u201cNitroglycerin is extremely volatile.\u201d When they all looked at him with blank expressions, he stifled a sigh. \u201cIt blows up easily,\u201d he translated, and they all nodded.<\/p>\n

Marcus straightened his waistcoat and fixed each man with a stern glare. \u201cYou all have your instructions,\u201d he said. \u201cAfter we finish with the train, we disperse\u2014we head in different directions,\u201d he clarified before they could ask. \u201cElias, you come with me. We\u2019ll be taking the gold, same as always. When you get where you\u2019re supposed to be, wait until I send for you. Do not try to contact me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere will you be?\u201d asked Carson.<\/p>\n

Marcus frowned. Carson knew better than to ask. They\u2019d been working together for nearly three years. Marcus had always taking care of the planning while the others did the manual labor, and he had always been careful to perform his duties precisely as he promised. Not that he hadn\u2019t occasionally been tempted to take the entire spoils and disappear with Elias, but he was no fool: the only way to keep his men loyal\u2014and quiet\u2014was to keep them satisfied. It had taken time to earn their trust, but by now, they generally followed him without question.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe less each of you knows about the others\u2019 whereabouts, the better,\u201d he reminded Carson now. \u201cJust stay where I\u2019ve sent you. That\u2019s all you\u2019ll need to do. In due time, when the excitement has died down, I\u2019ll be in touch to let you know where to pick up your share.\u201d He was quietly gratified by the expressions on their faces: to a man, they were simultaneously satisfied and ravenous. He nodded as he folded up the map. This was going to work.<\/p>\n

He sent all but Elias on their way. \u201cYou and I will eat in the room,\u201d he informed his brother. The fewer people who saw that distinctive scar, the better.<\/p>\n

Elias nodded vigorously. \u201cCan I ask you something?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, you can order steak,\u201d said Marcus. It was Elias\u2019s question everywhere they stayed.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood,\u201d said Elias. \u201cBut I got another question. Where are we gonna go after the robbery?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA lot of places. We\u2019re going to travel for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are we gonna do with the gold?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you worry about that, Elias. I have a place picked out already.\u201d Marcus smiled to himself. He had the perfect place. Bustling, growing, but without the risks of a real city. Small enough to learn quickly, but big enough to hide in. The perfect place.<\/p>\n

Virginia City.<\/p>\n

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

April 8, 1855. September 4, 1857. October 24, 1859. November 10, 1859. March 3, 1861. And . . . August 7, 1862.<\/em><\/p>\n

Satisfied, Anna Simmons surveyed the documents. It had taken months to secure the various contracts and letters in a longstanding water rights dispute between two erstwhile friends, but at long last, she had the complete story. Now, all she needed was to review the deeds at the land office, and she would be able to tell Abel Martinson whether he had a legal basis for continuing his battle with Noah Danfield.<\/p>\n

\u201cI doubt it,\u201d she murmured, shaking her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou doubt what?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna looked up to see Joe grinning at her as if nothing could ever be wrong in his world. \u201cGot a minute for your favorite client?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlways,\u201d she said, rising. \u201cYou\u2019re on your own today?\u201d she added as casually as she could manage.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam\u2019s paying the grain bill. I said I\u2019d get the mail, and your office was on the way.\u201d He came around the desk and kissed her cheek before dropping into the chair in front of her desk.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s good to see you,\u201d she said as she resumed her seat. \u201cPlease tell me that this is social, and not business.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d said Joe. \u201cI\u2019ve been behaving myself.\u201d He surveyed her desk, shaking his head. \u201cHow do you do all this by yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m thinking of taking on a partner,\u201d she admitted. \u201cThere\u2019s a lawyer I knew in Chicago who\u2019s moving to Virginia City, and he does a lot of transactional work. It would free me up for more trial work.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s trans\u2014whatever that is?\u201d Joe had long since stopped pretending that he understood half of what Anna said. As he liked to joke, he didn\u2019t speak lawyer.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s about negotiating deals and contracts and such,\u201d she said. \u201cThe thing is, trials take up so much time that it\u2019s hard to do both. So, if this could work, it would make my life much easier.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho is this fellow?\u201d asked Joe.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust an old friend from Chicago,\u201d Anna said. Suddenly, she was vaguely uncomfortable. \u201cI haven\u2019t mentioned this to Hoss yet,\u201d she added. \u201cSo please don\u2019t. I\u2019d rather tell him myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure,\u201d said Joe. \u201cHow about you tell him over dinner at the Ponderosa tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that why you really stopped in?\u201d asked Anna. \u201cTo play matchmaker?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh-huh,\u201d Joe said agreeably. \u201cLooks like the two of you need a nudge, and that\u2019s just the kind of thing I\u2019m good at.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you, now,\u201d she said dryly.<\/p>\n

\u201cBelieve me, it\u2019s just plain selfish on my part. If he\u2019s got you, he doesn\u2019t worry so much about me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoes he have a reason to be worried?\u201d Her tone sounded light, but she was serious. She might not be married to Hoss yet, but Joe definitely felt like her little brother. By the time the Grayson trial had ended, she\u2019d fallen into the Cartwright habit of keeping an eye on him, and it had proven to be a hard habit to break.<\/p>\n

The young man rolled his eyes. He was still thinner than when she\u2019d first met him, and his manner was more subdued, but she was gratified to see the lopsided grin that she\u2019d missed for so long. \u201cYou\u2019re as bad as he is,\u201d Joe said. \u201cI\u2019m fine. Really. Good as new\u2014well, almost,\u201d he conceded at her skeptical raised eyebrow.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlmost,\u201d she repeated, deadpan.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis close,\u201d he said firmly, holding his thumb and forefinger half an inch apart. Even though she\u2019d been at his side when he was undeniably falling apart during trial, he wasn\u2019t about to admit anything now. \u201cSo\u2014what about dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked at her desk, and then at the table by the window that was covered in papers. \u201cThat\u2019s very sweet of you, Joe, but I don\u2019t see how I can,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m up to my ears in work. Ever since your trial, everybody wants me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGlad I could help,\u201d said Joe breezily.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know better than that,\u201d she said with sudden seriousness. Even though she\u2019d secured a defendant\u2019s verdict, that trial had cost them both enormously.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d Joe said, and she knew that he understood. \u201cBut look\u2014you\u2019ve got to eat. You might as well let Hop Sing cook for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd let you all try to convince Hoss and me that everything\u2019s fine and dandy and we should just get married as if nothing ever happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, that sounds like a fine plan,\u201d said Joe. \u201cPack up your papers, and let\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, I can\u2019t,\u201d said Anna. \u201cI appreciate the invitation, but I can\u2019t do it tonight. I just have too much work.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about Saturday, then? You don\u2019t work on Saturdays. You could even come out earlier and go for a ride if it\u2019s not too cold. We can pick you up at two.\u201d He gave her his most innocent, hopeful look, as though he had no idea why she might ever turn down such an invitation.<\/p>\n

Anna smiled in spite of herself. When Joe was in his ever-so-slightly-annoying little brother mood, she felt torn between wanting to hug him or turn him over her knee. \u201cI appreciate the thought, I truly do, but you need to let Hoss and me work things out on our own,\u201d she said finally.\u00a0If we can,<\/em>\u00a0her mind added before she could shush it.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve tried that, but you two don\u2019t seem to be doing anything,\u201d said Joe. His eyes grew solemn. \u201cHe loves you, Anna. You\u2019ll see, he\u2019ll come around. Don\u2019t give up on him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna looked away as sudden tears sprang to her eyes. \u201cIt\u2019s been almost four months.\u201d She met Joe\u2019s eyes and forced the words out. \u201cHe may never forgive me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t say that,\u201d said Joe. \u201cI\u2019m alive, and it\u2019s because of you. He hasn\u2019t forgotten that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut in his mind, I betrayed you. I doubted your innocence.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou told me my choices,\u201d Joe pointed out. \u201cNot the same thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou and I know that,\u201d said Anna. \u201cBut to Hoss . . . his little brother was innocent, and I had no business thinking of anything else.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d They sat in reflective silence as faint sounds of hooves and wagons drifted on the chill air. A log in the round black stove hissed as it broke into coals, and Joe rose. \u201cIf I can\u2019t drag you out to the Ponderosa, at least I can fill your woodbox. I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d Before she could protest, he\u2019d disappeared out the back door, returning moments later with an armload of firewood.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, then,\u201d he said, dusting off his hands. \u201cSaturday at two o\u2019clock. Is it a date?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe. . . .\u201d She came around the desk to walk him to the door, and he caught her arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you love him, marry him,\u201d he said. His eyes were intense. \u201cThe rest\u2019ll work itself out. But don\u2019t wait. Not for anything. You never know when you\u2019ve waited too long.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d A chill ran down her spine.<\/p>\n

\u201cMary Ann Sawyer,\u201d he said. \u201cHer folks made her wait until her sixteenth birthday before she could marry Sam. She\u2019d known him all her life, and she loved him all that time, but she waited because they said to. If she\u2019d just gone to him, she wouldn\u2019t have been on that stagecoach.\u201d For a minute, he was lost in the memory. Then, he shook his head and grinned. \u201cSo, the moral of the story is, don\u2019t wait.\u201d He kissed her cheek. \u201cWe\u2019ll pick you up at your house Saturday at two. Don\u2019t be late.\u201d He touched the brim of her hat and was out the door before she could speak.<\/p>\n

And so she didn\u2019t remind him that if Mary Ann also wouldn\u2019t have been on that stagecoach if she\u2019d waited a little bit longer.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cYou did\u00a0what?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe forced himself to meet Hoss\u2019 glare with a jaunty grin. \u201cI invited Anna for supper on Saturday,\u201d he repeated.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m sure that\u2019ll be nice,\u201d said Ben mildly. \u201cWe haven\u2019t seen her in a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, that ain\u2019t what Little Joe\u2019s talkin\u2019 about, and you know it!\u201d Hoss slammed down his fork. \u201cHe ain\u2019t the slightest bit interested in anybody seein\u2019 Anna but me!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSimmer down, Hoss,\u201d said Ben. He turned to his youngest son, who was now studiously cutting a piece of fried chicken. It had struck Ben as a trifle odd that Hop Sing was frying chicken in the middle of the week when no guests were expected, but now he recognized his youngest son\u2019s mark on the dinner menu: fried chicken was one of Hoss\u2019s favorite foods. \u201cJoseph, what led you to extend this invitation?\u201d he inquired as though he didn\u2019t already know the answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d Joe popped a piece of chicken into his mouth, chewing vigorously.<\/p>\n

Ben waited until his son had swallowed. \u201cWhy did you invite Anna to dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell\u2014like you said\u2014we haven\u2019t seen her in a while,\u201d said Joe with such innocence that Ben had to fight to keep a straight face. \u201cI stopped in at her office to say hello on the way to get the mail, and we got to talking, and I suggested she come out for supper. She\u2019s awful busy these days, and she looked like she could use a break.\u201d He held his breath, but the implicit confession that he\u2019d been walking around town on his own seemed to have gotten buried in the rest of his explanation.<\/p>\n

\u201cDadgummit, Little Brother, I oughta just knock your head off,\u201d snapped Hoss.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss,\u201d Ben remonstrated.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, Pa\u2014he\u2019s messin\u2019 around in things that don\u2019t concern him. What goes on with me and Anna\u2014well, it\u2019s private, and Little Joe shouldn\u2019t be meddlin\u2019.\u201d Hoss\u2019 voice had gone slightly plaintive.<\/p>\n

Ben took pity on him. \u201cI agree,\u201d he said. \u201cBut she\u2019s been invited. Do you not want her to come?\u201d<\/p>\n

Unhappily, Hoss took up his fork. \u201cIt ain\u2019t that\u2014I just\u2014dadburnit, I just want Little Joe to mind his own doggone business!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your second choice?\u201d Adam murmured.<\/p>\n

Joe watched as his large brother speared another piece of chicken. Suddenly, it was infuriating to him that Hoss could be so concerned about food when there were more important matters to talk about. He slammed his hand on the table, and they all jumped. \u201cYou\u2019re a fool!\u201d he snapped. \u201cShe didn\u2019t do anything wrong! She saved my neck, and that\u2019s all!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss flung down his fork. \u201cIt ain\u2019t that, an\u2019 you know it!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor God\u2019s sake, Hoss\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d Ben Cartwright did not tolerate misuse of the Lord\u2019s name under any circumstances.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, Pa\u2014but Hoss, you gotta face facts! She\u2019s a lawyer\u2014she had to be ready for whatever the truth turned out to be, and I couldn\u2019t tell her what it was. If she hadn\u2019t figured out about Grayson attacking that little girl, that insanity defense might have been the only thing between me and the gallows.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut\u2014\u201d Hoss tried to interject.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd her not being willing to just assume I was innocent is the only reason I\u2019m sitting here now. So what the dickens is your problem?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss bowed his head. Finally, he forced the words out: \u201cShe didn\u2019t believe in you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe let loose with an epithet that earned another sharp \u201cJoseph!\u201d Undeterred, he continued, \u201cCan you imagine what would have happened if she\u2019d just blindly believed I could never have killed Grayson\u2014which, by the way, we still don\u2019t know if I did?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you did it, it was self-defense.\u201d The set of Hoss\u2019s jaw dared anyone to argue the point.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe know that now,\u201d said Joe. \u201cBut until she put the little Morrison kid on the stand to say so, nobody knew anything. If she\u2019d been willing to say, \u2018Oh, you\u2019re Hoss\u2019s brother, you couldn\u2019t possibly be guilty\u2019 and just let it go at that\u2014I\u2019d be planted next to Mama right now and you know it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph.\u201d It wasn\u2019t a reprimand this time; it was a plea. For one heartstopping instant, Ben knew it all again, every raw, terrifying moment before those two blessed words\u2014not guilty<\/em>\u2014had rung through the courtroom. He shook his head now, beseeching his son to let the memories rest. They weren\u2019t far enough away yet. He wondered if they ever would be.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, Pa,\u201d said Joe, meaning it. He let the image of two graves, mother and son, fade for a minute before he turned to his brother, his voice quieter now and all the more urgent for it. \u201cDo you love her?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s an easy question, Hoss. Do you love her?\u201d At his brother\u2019s wordless nod, Joe said, \u201cThen forget about the rest of this. What\u2019s done is done. All that matters now is you and her. Not me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt ain\u2019t that easy.\u201d The big man sounded almost helpless, but Joe held firm.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, Big Brother, it really is.\u201d With that pronouncement, he turned his focus back to his plate as though he cared what was before him, and he pretended not to feel his brother watching.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you want me to tell her not to come?\u201d Adam\u2019s voice was unusually gentle, his offer so unexpected that they all looked up.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d Frustrated, Hoss cast around for something to say. \u201cJust\u2014just\u2014just everybody mind your own business next time!\u201d He stabbed his fork into yet another piece of chicken and dumped it onto his plate next to the untouched one.<\/p>\n

The rest of the meal passed in uncomfortable silence. Joe kept his attention focused on his plate, but he could feel Hoss glowering at him from across the table. Finally, Ben pushed back his chair, and Hoss threw his napkin on the table. \u201cI\u2019m going for a ride,\u201d the big man announced.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll go with you,\u201d Joe offered, but his brother fixed him with a fierce glare.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m goin\u2019 by myself,\u201d he growled. He rose and stomped out, slamming the door behind him.<\/p>\n

Joe looked from his father to Adam. \u201cYou know I\u2019m right.\u201d Neither of them spoke. \u201cYou know I\u2019m right,\u201d he said again, louder this time.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph.\u201d His father\u2019s voice held the weariness of one who has said the same thing many times. \u201cHoss is old enough to decide for himself who he wants to marry. It\u2019s not up to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut\u2014but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know you\u2019re very fond of her, and we\u2019re all tremendously grateful for what she did\u2014but that doesn\u2019t mean Hoss has to marry her if he doesn\u2019t want to.\u201d Ben rose and picked up his coffee cup. \u201cHop Sing, is there any more coffee?\u201d he called into the kitchen.<\/p>\n

\u201cHop Sing making more,\u201d came the response.<\/p>\n

Joe stared as his father and brother sauntered from the table to the living room and took up their books. \u201cThat\u2019s it? You\u2019re just going to let him\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re not \u2018letting\u2019 him do anything,\u201d Adam interrupted. \u201cExcept make his own decisions. He\u2019s a big boy, and he doesn\u2019t need you to fix his life for him.\u201d He settled himself into the blue velvet chair and opened his book at the leather bookmark, not seeming to notice Joe\u2019s incredulous stare.<\/p>\n

Hop Sing brought in the coffee pot and poured more coffee for Ben and Adam. \u201cLi\u2019l Joe want coffee?\u201d he offered.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? Oh, no, thanks.\u201d Shaking his head, Joe headed upstairs.<\/p>\n

Only after they heard his door slam did Ben and Adam exchange a long look over their books. \u201cHe\u2019s got a point,\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d said Ben. \u201cAnd he\u2019s made it\u2014many times, in fact. It\u2019s up to Hoss now.\u201d He sipped his coffee as he turned his attention back to his book. After a moment, Adam did the same.<\/p>\n

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

Elias rode up the path to the ridge where Marcus stood beside the buggy. \u201cWe\u2019re all set,\u201d he announced.<\/p>\n

Marcus nodded. He\u2019d been watching for the past hour as the men placed the explosives around and beneath the track. \u201cGood work,\u201d he said. The smile that spread across Elias\u2019s face at that small praise reminded him of the little boy who had once trailed after him as he\u2019d done farm chores. Even as a child, Elias had always wanted nothing more than to be with his big brother, helping as much as he could. Why he wanted to milk cows and muck out stalls was beyond Marcus, but even the most distasteful barn chores were fine with Elias, just as long as Marcus was happy.<\/p>\n

Marcus sighed inwardly. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never understand why so many men seemed to choose the dirty jobs in life. Farmers, miners, cowboys\u2014stupid, all of them. Men were meant to live refined, dignified lives which involved the use of their minds, not their muscles. A job which required a man to sweat was a job meant for animals.<\/p>\n

Besides, those jobs were dangerous. If anybody knew that, he did. And if he ever forgot it, the violence of Elias\u2019s scar was right there to remind him.<\/p>\n

He straightened his vest as he reflected on the two men riding up the ridge. Below, Watson bent down to light the fuse. It was a matter of timing. Destroy the track too soon, and the railroad folks would have time to discover the problem and either fix it or send the gold by some other means. Too late, and the engineer would hear the explosion in time to stop the train, and then they\u2019d have to deal with men and their guns trying to protect their precious gold. But if Marcus had chosen the moment correctly, soon there would be a fiery wreck with no survivors\u2014no witnesses\u2014and the gold would be secured under wraps in the buggy and on its way to the hideout before the law or Wells Fargo knew what had happened.<\/p>\n

He nodded to Carson and Edwards as they dismounted. When this was over, they would all have enough money so that they would never again need to dirty their hands, but he knew in his heart it wouldn\u2019t be enough. Another few months, and they\u2019d be looking to him to plan another job that would require them to ride or shoot or haul stolen goods or dig in the half-frozen mud around railroad tracks. It was their fate, he supposed.<\/p>\n

He watched as Watson ran from the tracks to crouch behind a fallen tree. Elias held his own horse as well as the one hitched to Marcus\u2019s buggy. Carson and Edwards remained in the saddle, the better to handle the skittish beasts.<\/p>\n

Below them, the carefully-laid track exploded, bits of wood and steel flying into the air with a resounding crash. Marcus nodded, satisfied, as his brother and the other men sought to control the horses. He saw Watson rise and look up toward the ridge, and he waved his hat in acknowledgement of a job well done.<\/p>\n

Now, it was just a matter of time.<\/p>\n

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

The clock in the foyer chimed four. For the twentieth time, Anna peeked out the front window. No sign of Hoss.<\/p>\n

This wasn\u2019t like him, not even a little bit.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t that he was always prompt. Things came up on a ranch, and she knew this. A horse could throw a shoe, a harness could break\u2014any number of innocent inconveniences could have delayed him.<\/p>\n

But as she looked out at the horses and carriages driving past, none stopping to allow the big man to disembark, she felt a dread certainty in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong, and it had nothing to do with horseshoes or harnesses.<\/p>\n

She hadn\u2019t heard a word from Hoss since Joe\u2019s visit to her office. If he\u2019d been in town in the intervening three days, he hadn\u2019t stopped by. Not so much as a note to let her know that he knew of Joe\u2019s invitation, much less anything to suggest that he was pleased about it.<\/p>\n

The hands of the clock moved inexorably to four-thirty, and then began their trek back up to the top of the hour. Even now, late in the winter, darkness fell too soon. Shadows began to lengthen, and she lit the lamps in the parlor. Four-thirty turned to five, and then to five-thirty, and still no Hoss.<\/p>\n

In another time, she would have simply gotten her own buggy and headed out to the Ponderosa. But that would be the act of a woman who was certain of her welcome. For the first time since she\u2019d known him, Anna was unsure whether Hoss would want to see her. Even though it wasn\u2019t cold in the parlor, she found herself shivering.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s over,<\/em>\u00a0she thought, and the grief welled up in her throat as she closed her eyes.<\/p>\n

She paced around the room like the proverbial caged tiger. \u201cNo,\u201d she said aloud. \u201cHe wouldn\u2019t. Not Hoss. He wouldn\u2019t end things this way. He\u2019d tell me to my face. He wouldn\u2019t just not show up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yet somehow, she who could persuade juries of practically anything was unable to convince herself that her own words were true.<\/p>\n

The clock struck six, and she stopped pacing. She had to get out of this house. Let him come and find her gone. It would serve him right. She turned down the lamps, took up her cloak, and slammed the door behind her, heading for the sanctuary of her office.<\/p>\n

Head down against the cold, she nearly ran into the tall man on the sidewalk. \u201cOh, I\u2019m sorry!\u201d She looked up, and he laughed as he steadied her.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna! I was just on my way to see you!\u201d His fine wool coat spoke of city life, where one moved from buggy to building, and precious little time was spent out of doors.<\/p>\n

\u201cRichard! I didn\u2019t know you were in town yet!\u201d She smiled as she took his arm. \u201cMy office is right here. Do come in out of the cold.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSaturday evening, and she\u2019s in the office,\u201d chuckled Richard Palmer. \u201cSome things never change.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIndeed,\u201d said Anna ruefully. She unlocked the door and let him in. He stood by the doorway as she moved about in the darkness, lighting lamps and hanging up her cloak. \u201cCome in, come in,\u201d she urged.<\/p>\n

\u201cQuite a place you have here,\u201d he observed with an approving nod.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was Uncle Efraim\u2019s office,\u201d she admitted. The office consisted of two good-sized rooms. The front room, with its large window overlooking C Street, still contained the desk Anna had used when she first came to Virginia City. After her uncle\u2019s passing, she had moved into the more private office in at the back, with its massive oak desk and high-backed leather chair. Both rooms boasted oriental carpets that Efraim Zelner had received as payment from the grateful owner of a San Francisco-based shipping fleet. The walls of both rooms were lined with oak bookcases, and the slightly musty scent of old lawbooks mingled with the scent of woodsmoke as Anna lit the kindling in the stove.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere, let me take your coat,\u201d she added. When did you get into town?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust this morning,\u201d he said, handing her the garment. The pungent scent of cigar smoke clung to its fibers, and for a moment, she was transported back to the days of dinner parties, and the men relaxing around the dining table after dinner with their cigars and brandy while the women retired to the drawing room to sip tea and discuss fashions. She\u2019d wanted so much to join the men\u2019s conversations as they debated law and politics and the war instead of listening to the ladies twittering about hemlines and hairstyles, but Seth would not hear of such outlandish behavior from his wife.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease sit down.\u201d She gestured to one of the upholstered chairs in the front office as she seated herself in the other one. \u201cI can\u2019t tell you how delighted I am that you\u2019ve arrived\u2014and early, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

He settled himself into the chair and looked around the room, frowning slightly at the stacks of paper on a long, low table in front of the window. \u201cI can imagine,\u201d he said. \u201cHow have you been keeping up with all of this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not as bad as it looks,\u201d she said. \u201cBut I admit to being a bit overwhelmed at times, especially when I\u2019m on trial. That\u2019s when it feels as though I never leave the office.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, hopefully we can work something out,\u201d he said. His gaze was frankly admiring. \u201cYou look as lovely as ever,\u201d he said. \u201cLife out here agrees with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSometimes,\u201d she said. Before he could ask more, she rose. \u201cYou\u2019re probably starving, and I appear to be free for dinner. Would you like to join me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou? Free for dinner? The men in this town must be utter dolts,\u201d said Richard, also rising. \u201cI would be delighted to join you for dinner. Is there anyplace specific that you\u2019d like to go?\u201d<\/p>\n

It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest the International House, but suddenly she said, \u201cLet\u2019s go to Pierre\u2019s. It\u2019s right up the street.\u201d She\u2019d only been there once; Hoss preferred the simple, straightforward fare of the International House or Daisy Mae\u2019s to Pierre\u2019s elegant French cuisine.<\/p>\n

\u201cPierre\u2019s? Sounds quite fancy for a town like this.\u201d Richard held her cloak for her.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, it is,\u201d she assured him. \u201cIt\u2019s only been open a few months, and I don\u2019t know how long it\u2019ll last, but it\u2019s quite good. It\u2019s just not what most of the local people prefer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can imagine,\u201d said Richard, buttoning his coat. \u201cI think we should definitely go to Pierre\u2019s before he packs up his escargots and returns to New York or wherever he\u2019s from. Shall we?\u201d He offered her his arm, and with only the slightest hesitation, she took it.<\/p>\n

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

Ben drew the door to Joe\u2019s bedroom closed as he stepped into the hall. \u201cWhen did it happen?\u201d he asked Hoss in a low voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust as we were gettin\u2019 ready to head into town,\u201d said Hoss. He led the way down the stairs to the living room as he continued, \u201cOne minute, he was chattering like a jaybird, and the next, he was\u2014well, not there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid anything happen before he went into the fugue?\u201d asked Ben. He was still looking for clues or patterns, something to enable them to predict these events. Sometimes they seemed to come when Joe was tense or upset, but even that wasn\u2019t a reliable barometer.<\/p>\n

Hoss nodded. \u201cHe seemed fine, and then he just went quiet, and I couldn\u2019t get him to answer me, or even look at me. I reached for him, and he took a swing at me. I ended up having to kinda herd him to get him into the house, and even then, I had to keep blockin\u2019 his way \u2019cause he kept tryin\u2019 to leave.\u201d He tossed another log on the already-blazing fire. \u201cI thought about takin\u2019 him with me to get Anna, but I was afraid he\u2019d try and take off. Seemed safer just to keep him here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou made the right choice,\u201d Ben assured him. \u201cThere\u2019s no telling what could have happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

Just then, Adam came in, stomping snow off his boots. \u201cSupper ready yet?\u201d He looked around. \u201cWhere\u2019s Anna?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe ain\u2019t here,\u201d said Hoss heavily.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy? What happened?\u201d Adam tried to keep his voice calm even as his mind flashed through a number of explanations, none of them good.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe had a fugue episode this afternoon,\u201d said his father.<\/p>\n

Bad, but maybe not as bad as it could have been.<\/em>\u00a0\u201cIs everything all right? Where was he?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s fine,\u201d said Ben. \u201cHe was right here, and Hoss was with him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he back?\u201d Adam pressed.<\/p>\n

Ben nodded. \u201cIt lasted just about all afternoon, though.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere is he now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s sleeping,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cHe was real agitated with this one\u2014kept pacing around like one of them circus tigers in a cage. I dunno what was goin\u2019 on, but by the time he came back, he was pretty well worn out. When he figured out what\u2019d happened, he started gettin\u2019 all upset about ruinin\u2019 supper, but Pa gave him one of Hop Sing\u2019s herb drinks and talked him into layin\u2019 down for a little bit, an\u2019 he went right to sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid anybody let Anna know what happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss shook his head. \u201cThere warn\u2019t nobody here to send into town with a message. All the hands were out and about, makin\u2019 sure there was feed for the cattle.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about Hop Sing? He\u2019d have picked her up.\u201d The little Chinese man never made a secret of his belief that Hoss and Anna should marry, and the sooner, the better.<\/p>\n

Hoss shook his head again. \u201cHis aunt was makin\u2019 a special dessert, and he\u2019d already left to go into town to fetch it. I told him we\u2019d get it for him, but his aunt don\u2019t speak English an\u2019 he said it\u2019d be better if he got it himself. Turned out it wasn\u2019t ready when he got there, an\u2019 by the time he finally got back with it, I wasn\u2019t even thinkin\u2019 about supper.\u201d The longer the episode had gone on, the more worried Hoss had been.<\/p>\n

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. The best thing he could do for both his brothers was to try to control the damage. He turned to Hoss. \u201cI\u2019ll go with you into Virginia City,\u201d he offered.<\/p>\n

\u201cSupper ready long time!\u201d announced Hop Sing from the doorway. \u201cNobody home, nobody eat! Hop Sing work, work, work, nobody eat!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you boys have something to eat before you go?\u201d suggested Ben. \u201cI\u2019m sure Anna\u2019s already had her supper by now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa\u2019s right,\u201d said Adam. \u201cWe can eat fast and then head in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to come with me,\u201d said Hoss.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d said Adam. \u201cJust thought you might like some company.\u201d He patted his younger brother\u2019s shoulder. \u201cThere wasn\u2019t anything else you could do,\u201d he said softly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d The words were heavy with resignation.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, boys,\u201d said Ben. \u201cGet some supper, and then you can go and talk to Anna.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss looked from his father to his brother. \u201cDadburnit,\u201d he muttered. \u201cAll right, let\u2019s eat.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

By the time they were halfway to town, the snow that had threatened all day was swirling around them. Adam would have been in favor of turning around, but one look at his brother\u2019s face told him that there was no chance. So, he put his head down and squeezed the horse\u2019s sides to push him forward. The sooner they reached town, the sooner they could put all this unpleasantness behind them.<\/p>\n

It seemed forever before they reached Virginia City. The buildings blocked some of the flying snow, but the icy pellets that swirled around them stung like the devil. The Cartwright brothers put up their horses at the livery stable, pulled down their hats to cover their faces, and made their way to Anna\u2019s house.<\/p>\n

Standing on her porch, out of the wind and snow, they exchanged a perplexed look. The house was dark. \u201cDoes she usually go to bed this early?\u201d asked Adam.<\/p>\n

\u201cNope,\u201d said Hoss. He pounded on her door. No response. He pounded again, and the only answering sound was the wind.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould she have gone to somebody else\u2019s house?\u201d asked Adam.<\/p>\n

Hoss shrugged. \u201cProbably at her office. Let\u2019s go.\u201d He headed out into the snow, and Adam, sighing, followed.<\/p>\n

The office was as dark as her house. The brothers looked at each other, concern bordering on alarm.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe couldn\u2019t have headed out to the ranch,\u201d said Adam reasonably. \u201cWe\u2019d have seen her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUnless something happened,\u201d said Hoss. He was about to head back to the livery stable when laughter caught their attention. They looked up to see Anna coming out of Pierre\u2019s, holding onto a man\u2019s arm, both of them laughing as they tried to keep from slipping.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the\u2014?\u201d Hoss gaped.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho\u2019s that?\u201d asked Adam.<\/p>\n

\u201cDunno,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cI ain\u2019t never seen him before.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t look like he\u2019s from around here,\u201d observed Adam. His college years in Boston had taught him to spot city folk at a glance, and this fellow was definitely city folk. Adam tried hard not to see how natural Anna looked on the man\u2019s arm\u2014or how his brother\u2019s countenance darkened as he watched the couple.<\/p>\n

Without another word, Hoss was striding across the street, with Adam hustling to catch up. \u201cEvening, Anna,\u201d Hoss said as soon as he was within earshot.<\/p>\n

Blond Anna and her sandy-haired companion stopped. \u201cGood evening, Hoss, Adam,\u201d she said. Her voice was nearly as frosty as the night.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe went to your house, but you weren\u2019t there,\u201d said Hoss.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was there at two o\u2019clock,\u201d she said. \u201cAnd at three, and four, and five, and six.\u201d Her eyes challenged Hoss to explain.<\/p>\n

Hoss met her gaze hard. He wasn\u2019t about to talk about Little Joe\u2019s problems in front of this yahoo\u2014especially not when Anna was still holding onto the fellow\u2019s arm. She could just wonder where he\u2019d been.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t believe we\u2019ve met,\u201d Adam said to the man, extending his hand. Assume innocence, he counseled himself. \u201cAdam Cartwright. This is my brother, Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man shook his hand. \u201cRichard Palmer,\u201d he said. To Hoss, he said, \u201cI\u2019ve heard a lot about you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFunny,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cI ain\u2019t never heard of you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRichard is from Chicago,\u201d said Anna. \u201cHe\u2019s a lawyer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna and I have known each other for years,\u201d said Richard, patting her hand as if oblivious to Hoss\u2019 glare.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou passing through?\u201d asked Adam.<\/p>\n

Richard shook his head. \u201cMoving here,\u201d he said. \u201cAnna and I are considering forming a partnership.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss looked as if he\u2019d been punched in the gut. Adam tried to think of a response, but none was forthcoming. Explaining their lateness suddenly seemed unimportant beside this revelation.<\/p>\n

Hurriedly, Anna said, \u201cI was going to tell you all about it tonight.\u201d She looked anxiously from Hoss to Adam. The wind picked up, and the snow swirled around them, tiny ice crystals stinging their cheeks.<\/p>\n

\u201cI reckon you probably were,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cSnow\u2019s gettin\u2019 worse. You better get on home.\u201d He touched the brim of his hat and started past them, and Adam did likewise.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss.\u201d Anna reached out and caught his arm. When he looked back at her, she said, \u201cI really was going to tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYep.\u201d He slid his arm from her grasp and headed down the sidewalk with Adam right behind, through the swirling snow to the Bucket of Blood and its bottles of mind-numbing whiskey.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cWould you get away from the window!\u201d Marcus grabbed Elias\u2019s arm and pulled him across the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, Marcus\u2014\u201d The whine hadn\u2019t changed since Elias was a child.<\/p>\n

\u201cI said, stay away from the window, and I mean it!\u201d Marcus glared, and Elias wilted, flopping down on one of the narrow beds.<\/p>\n

\u201cNobody knows who we are,\u201d Elias grumbled. \u201cWe could go out for a beer, and nobody\u2019d even know we\u2019re rich.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus took a deep breath. \u201cOf course, they\u2019d know,\u201d he said. \u201cBecause you can\u2019t keep anything to yourself. You\u2019d tell them in five minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t!\u201d Stung, Elias sat up. \u201cI can keep a secret as well as you!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust settle down,\u201d said Marcus. He turned his attention back to the newspaper. Two weeks after the robbery, and not a word about it. The train wreck had made the headlines, and Wells Fargo had published a long apology to its shareholders and depositors, promising to make good on the loss, but nothing in the paper even hinted that anybody had any ideas about where the gold had gone. Marcus wasn\u2019t sure whether he was pleased at their success or irritated that such a coup seemed to be going unnoticed by the world.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if we went down to the dining room for dinner?\u201d Elias\u2019s voice broke into his concentration.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re not going downstairs,\u201d said Marcus. \u201cWe\u2019re going to eat in the room and get to bed early so that we can leave in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n

Elias frowned. \u201cBut I like it here!\u201d He looked around. \u201cWhich town is this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlacerville.\u201d Marcus didn\u2019t bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice. If only Elias could handle being hidden, they wouldn\u2019t have to change towns every few days. This was their third stop since the robbery. The gold was securely tucked away where no innocent person could stumble upon it. Now, the trick was to ensure that nobody found out about it by any other means, and the key to that was keeping Elias quiet and away from people.<\/p>\n

He watched his brother, who had already dozed off. In so many ways, Elias was like a child. He was hungry, sleepy, bouncy or grumpy\u2014never serene or morose or contemplative. A firm \u201cno\u201d was usually enough to put an end to any whining. New things never failed to delight him. He could fall asleep almost anywhere as long as he felt safe, and he always seemed to feel safe when Marcus was present.<\/p>\n

His wants were few and unsophisticated: a steak, a beer, a slab of pie. Pleasing his big brother. Kissing pretty girls.<\/p>\n

Marcus folded the paper, corner to precise corner. From his right side, Elias Tucker was a handsome man. Sort of slow, a little too talkative, but the right girl probably would have overlooked all that if it weren\u2019t for that wretched scar.\u00a0The mark of Cain,<\/em>\u00a0he reflected. Except that Cain had killed his brother, not a girl.<\/p>\n

That damned Miranda Kelly. A pretty little thing, with light brown curls and dark brown eyes. Her father had more money than any six men in Denver. If only Elias hadn\u2019t been smitten with her. If only she could have seen past the scar.<\/p>\n

If only Marcus had found them in time.<\/p>\n

He closed his eyes, seeing it all again. Elias sobbing, begging her to wake up. Her body, limp in his hands. The bruises on her throat. \u201cI just wanted a kiss,\u201d he insisted as Marcus pulled at him.<\/p>\n

Carson and Edwards had disposed of the body while Marcus got Elias out of town. Piper and Watson stayed behind, later reporting that there had been some talk about a man with a scar, but no one seemed to know who he was or where he\u2019d gone. Ultimately, the mystery of her disappearance was never solved.<\/p>\n

Marcus opened his eyes. Ancient history. They had to focus on their future. By his estimate, they had another six weeks at least before they would be in a position to contact the others. Most posses didn\u2019t stay out longer than about a month, but Marcus liked to err on the conservative side. This was a major robbery. The newspapers had reported that everyone on board the train was killed in the crash, and sixty thousand dollars in gold had been stolen. Wells Fargo wasn\u2019t going to give this one up easily, but even they weren\u2019t likely go on searching forever. He figured that by the two-month mark, Wells Fargo would have exhausted all the possibilities from San Francisco to St. Joe. By then, it would be safe to start contacting some of his other colleagues\u2014men who knew about converting gold bars into cash.<\/p>\n

He drew a small piece of paper from his pocket and checked off \u201cPlacerville.\u201d He perused the list with a smile. Assuming three to four days in each town, and a day or two of travel in between, they would arrive in Virginia City in early May, about six weeks away. Depending on how things went, they might even be able to stay for a while.<\/p>\n

Elias would like that.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cAre you just about finished?\u201d asked Richard from the doorway to her office.<\/p>\n

Anna looked up from the file on her desk. \u201cA few more minutes,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Richard cocked his head, questioning. \u201cAny interest in getting dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n

She forced herself to smile as she shook her head. \u201cNot tonight, thanks,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s been a long week. I think I\u2019m just going to head home and relax.\u201d<\/p>\n

Richard nodded. \u201cIn that case, I\u2019m going to head home myself,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ve still got some unpacking to finish. The last crates arrived yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna sat back in her chair. \u201cIs that all of your things now?\u201d<\/p>\n

Apparently taking the question as an invitation, Richard sauntered into her office and dropped into the chair in front of her desk. \u201cEverything\u2019s here,\u201d he said. \u201cI am now officially a resident of Virginia City\u2014and a partner in the law firm of Simmons and Palmer.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her smile became genuine at that. No other man would have allowed her name to be first. Richard was kind, generous, open-minded, willing to acknowledge and encourage her talents. He was sophisticated and intelligent, with a curious innocence about him that she\u2019d always found charming. She could work well with him, she was certain.<\/p>\n

The challenge would be to keep their relationship strictly professional. She\u2019d already felt the occasional hint that he might want more. It had been easier when she could say that she was being courted, but in the nearly two weeks since they had encountered Hoss and Adam on the street, Anna hadn\u2019t seen or heard from Hoss once.<\/p>\n

It had occurred to her that, just maybe, Hoss had been delayed because of a problem with Joe. As the days passed with no word, though, she was forced to discount this notion. If he\u2019d been late because Joe had had a fugue episode, Joe would have made a point of coming to tell her the very next day. Even when Hoss was being bull-headed, she could always count on Joe\u2019s tendency to insinuate himself into matters that were none of his business. She hadn\u2019t realized just how much she was depending on Joe this time\u2014not until days had passed with no sign of Hoss\u2019s younger brother.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you still here?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna jumped slightly. Richard was smiling at her. \u201cYou haven\u2019t heard a word I\u2019ve been saying,\u201d he added, not sounding at all put out.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said. She closed the file on her desk and rose. \u201cI\u2019m just tired. I think I\u2019m going to go home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAt least let me walk you home,\u201d Richard said. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t be walking the streets alone.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna reached for her coat. \u201cI walk home alone every night,\u201d she said, trying not to sound either annoyed or defensive.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat doesn\u2019t mean you should,\u201d Richard said gently. \u201cAll it means is that there\u2019s nobody taking proper care of you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She felt her temper flare. Holding it in check, she said, \u201cI don\u2019t need to have anyone taking care of me. I\u2019m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, you are,\u201d Richard said. He took the coat from her and held it for her to slip her arms into the sleeves. \u201cForgive me, Anna,\u201d he added. \u201cI\u2019ve spent so long around women who needed to be taken care of that I\u2019ve nearly forgotten that there\u2019s any other kind.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna blew out the lamp on her desk. The lamplight from the other room silhouetted Richard\u2019s trim figure. He wasn\u2019t as tall as Hoss, she noted. Then, she forced her thoughts away from Hoss. Hoss\u2019s height was no longer any of her business.<\/p>\n

As Richard fetched his own coat, Anna noticed for the first time that teeming rain was pounding into the wheel ruts in the half-frozen street. She grimaced at the notion of the rain running off the recent snow that still lay on some of the sidewalks. It would be a slow, cold, wet walk home tonight.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou ought to go straight home,\u201d she said. \u201cWith that coat, you\u2019ll be drenched if you go to my house first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry about me,\u201d said Richard, buttoning his coat. \u201cWe city folk are much tougher than you westerners give us credit for.\u201d He blew out the lamp and reached for the doorknob. \u201cReady?\u201d<\/p>\n

The wind whipped their coats as they headed out into the driving rain. She nearly slipped, and without asking, he put his arm around her, holding her firmly. Heads down, they pushed forward, slipping and sliding through the puddles on the icy sidewalk. Very few people were out this evening, and those who were had their hats pulled low.<\/p>\n

After what seemed like forever, they reached Anna\u2019s house. \u201cCome in,\u201d she said. She didn\u2019t want to invite him in, but there was no choice. She couldn\u2019t send him right back out into the storm.<\/p>\n

The house was dark. It took a moment before Anna recalled that she had given her cook, Jiang Xi, the night off to visit with a cousin who was in town. \u201cWait here,\u201d she said as she took up the matches and lit the lamps in the parlor.<\/p>\n

She slipped off her dripping coat and reached for Richard\u2019s. \u201cYou\u2019re soaked!\u201d she observed, dismayed. Clearly, his city coat wasn\u2019t adequate for the rough weather of Virginia City.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d he said, but his teeth were chattering.<\/p>\n

Her plans for a quiet evening in which to read and think were vanishing like smoke. Reluctantly, she said, \u201cYou can\u2019t possibly head back out into this storm. You need to wait until it lets up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Richard shook his head. \u201cIf I keep these soggy clothes on much longer, I\u2019ll be dead of pneumonia by morning.\u201d<\/p>\n

With an effort, she held back her sigh. \u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d she said. \u201cCome with me.\u201d She stifled her irritation as she led the way upstairs to the guest room. She reached into the clothes press, past her out-of-season dresses, for the dressing gown that had once belonged to her uncle. Firmly, she pushed from her mind the memory of the time that Hoss had worn it after he had appeared at her door, equally drenched. \u201cPut this on,\u201d she instructed. \u201cI\u2019ll put your clothes to dry by the stove.\u201d She turned and headed to her own room to change into dry clothing before he could answer.<\/p>\n

By the time she\u2019d stoked the fire in the kitchen stove, the rain had let up.\u00a0It figures,<\/em>\u00a0she thought. Now, she was stuck with Richard until his clothes dried enough for him to dress.\u00a0It\u2019s not that bad,<\/em>\u00a0she insisted silently. She set a bottle of wine on the table and took out two glasses.\u00a0He\u2019s a good friend,<\/em>\u00a0she reminded herself as she searched in the breakfront for the corkscrew.There are worse ways to spend an evening than with a good friend.<\/em><\/p>\n

She turned to see Richard, wet clothes in hand. The faded maroon dressing gown fit him as though it had been tailor-made. Involuntarily, she recalled Hoss trying to make the edges fit across his broad middle. He\u2019d wrapped a towel around his waist for modesty\u2019s sake, but the lapels of the robe remained several inches apart. He\u2019d smiled as she linked her fingers behind his neck, her cheek resting against his coarse chest hair. \u201cYou behave yourself, little lady,\u201d he\u2019d said with mock sternness, but when he pulled her into a tight embrace, behaving herself was the farthest thing from her mind.<\/p>\n

She shook her head to rid herself of the image, the feelings. \u201cGive me those,\u201d she said brusquely, grateful for the cold clamminess of his wet clothing.<\/p>\n

A knock on the door startled her. \u201cWere you expecting company?\u201d Richard asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Anna said. She draped Richard\u2019s shirt over a chair and headed to the door, drying her hands on her skirt. She opened the door and caught her breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cEvening, Anna,\u201d said Hoss.<\/p>\n

She drew a deep breath. \u201cGood evening,\u201d she managed.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I come in?\u201d he asked when she didn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, I\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said. \u201cI didn\u2019t expect\u2014I hadn\u2019t\u2014that was quite a storm\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt sure was,\u201d Hoss agreed. \u201cI was over at the saloon when it started, so I just waited it out there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat was smart of you,\u201d she said.\u00a0Tell him what\u2019s going on,<\/em>\u00a0she instructed herself.\u00a0It\u2019s all innocent. Just explain\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cAnna, where\u2019s the corkscrew?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna and Hoss turned to see Richard striding into the parlor, wine bottle in his hand, the maroon dressing gown belted around his trim middle. Anna turned back to Hoss, but his jaw was set as if in stone.<\/p>\n

\u201cI see I came at a bad time,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ll be goin\u2019 now. Good night, Anna.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss, wait\u2014it\u2019s not what you think\u2014\u201d she began, but he was already out the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Cartwright, wait,\u201d called Richard. \u201cThere\u2019s a simple explanation.\u201d He moved as if to head outside, but Anna grabbed his arm as she slammed the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you insane?\u201d she demanded. \u201cDo you think I want all of Virginia City to see you coming out of my house in a bathrobe?\u201d As if it mattered what the rest of the town thought. The one person whose opinion she valued had apparently already made up his mind. If he could believe such a thing about her . . . well, it hardly mattered what anybody else said.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut\u2014what about your friend?\u201d asked Richard. \u201cIt appears that he\u2019s got a wrong idea in his head.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d she said. \u201cI should to talk with him.\u201d But she couldn\u2019t make herself move. Once upon a time, she and Hoss could have laughed about something like this. Back then, it would have been a joke, a soggy lawyer standing in her parlor wearing a dressing gown. But now, there was nothing funny. Now, it was just one more brick in the wall that separated them.<\/p>\n

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

The door opened so quietly that Ben almost missed it. He looked up from his book to see Hoss slipping in as soundlessly as Little Joe might have done late at night. The big man\u2019s head was bowed, his shoulders hunched. When he closed the door, his hand stayed against it as though he were bracing himself.<\/p>\n

Ben watched, not speaking, as Hoss hung up his jacket and hat. The large fingers fumbled with the buckle on his gunbelt, but Hoss coiled it deliberately and set it on the credenza as if its placement among the others mattered. As his son turned to head upstairs, Ben asked quietly, \u201cEverything all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss jerked around as though someone had shot at him. \u201cSorry, Pa,\u201d he said. \u201cI reckon I didn\u2019t see you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben nodded, waiting. Something was clearly troubling Hoss, and he\u2019d have bet the Ponderosa that that something was Anna Simmons. Adam had let it slip that Hoss intended to go and see her tonight, a plan of which Ben had heartily approved. It had been nearly two weeks since the dinner fiasco, and it was high time those two cleared the air.<\/p>\n

But the tension in his son\u2019s face revealed that the air was far from clear. \u201cWould it help to talk?\u201d he suggested at last, when Hoss neither moved nor spoke.<\/p>\n

Hoss shook his head. He started for the stairs, and then turned back. \u201cPa, I\u2019d like to go away for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

With an effort, Ben kept his countenance impassive. \u201cAny place in particular?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss shook his head again. \u201cNo, sir. I just\u2014I need to get away.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben waited, but Hoss offered nothing more. \u201cSpring\u2019s a busy time,\u201d he pointed out gently.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cI\u2014I wouldn\u2019t ask if\u2014Pa, I really need to get away from here for a little while.\u201d<\/p>\n

His middle son, built like a mountain, as strong as ten men, looked as though he were going to cry right there in the middle of the main room. Ben stood and rested his hand on Hoss\u2019 broad shoulder. \u201cOf course,\u201d he said. \u201cWhen were you planning to leave?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the morning,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cProb\u2019ly early.\u201d<\/p>\n

Before the others are awake,<\/em>\u00a0Ben thought.\u00a0Avoid Joe\u2019s questions and Adam\u2019s well-meant advice.<\/em>\u00a0It was just as well. \u201cAny idea how long you\u2019ll be gone?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss bit his lip. \u201cA few weeks, maybe.\u201d He shot a quick look at his father, and he relaxed visibly when Ben nodded his approval.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do what you need to do, son,\u201d he said. \u201cWe\u2019ll be fine here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Pa,\u201d Hoss whispered. He started up the stairs. At the landing, he paused and turned back. He opened his mouth as though he were going to ask something. Ben waited, not speaking. After a moment, Hoss just said, \u201cGood night,\u201d and headed upstairs.<\/p>\n

Ben stood in the middle of the room, watching the stairs long after the sound of Hoss\u2019s footsteps had faded. He\u2019d had such hopes for Hoss and Anna. An unlikely couple, to be sure, but there had been something about them together that reminded Ben of the very best moments of his own marriages. There was a harmony about them, a sense of completion, of satisfying rightness. Two pieces of a puzzle, odd and unfinished on their own, but together, making perfect sense.<\/p>\n

As Ben stood in the silent room, the years faded away. He saw again a sturdy, tow-headed toddler, the child\u2019s laughter bubbling even when he tumbled over, disappearing for an instant in the long prairie grasses and then scrambling to his feet again, still laughing as his dark, serious older brother ran after him. The little boy\u2019s sunny nature, delightful and carefree, was the bright spot in a world of hardship and loss as they worked their way across the plains. Joy had glowed in Hoss from the moment he first drew breath.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t that the boy had never known pain and struggle and grief. As a child, Hoss stood by Marie\u2019s grave, clutching Little Joe\u2019s hand while his own tears rolled down his face. His growing-up years had been fraught with difficulty as he labored to master the book learning that had come so easily to Adam. From the time it became apparent that he would be large for his age, he had endured mockery and insults. As an adult, he\u2019d known still more sadness and troubles as people he\u2019d given his heart to had left or died or betrayed his trust.<\/p>\n

But through it all, Hoss Cartwright had maintained a steadfast faith that somehow, all would be well and the world, with all its beauty and blessings, would work out just the way it should. His spirit had endured disappointments and trials that would have devastated other men. Even when the light had sometimes dimmed, the flicker of joy had always endured.<\/p>\n

\u201cHold on, boy,\u201d Ben whispered. He moved through the room, blowing out the lamps and stoking the embers in the fireplace. Slowly, he climbed the stairs. At Hoss\u2019s doorway, he paused, his hand on the rough wood. There was no sound from within. \u201cHold on,\u201d he whispered again, and this time, it was a prayer.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Part 2: Questions, answers, and more questions<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The May sunshine was a welcome respite from the spring rains that had pounded the Ponderosa for weeks. Bits of mud flew from beneath the horses\u2019 hooves as Adam and Joe rode along the Virginia City road. By the time they got home, Adam reflected, they and the horses would all need baths.<\/p>\n

Every now and again, Adam snuck a peek at Joe, trying to determine whether his brother had slipped away into the shadows of his mind or was merely sulking. Each time Joe met his eyes with a disgusted glare, Adam allowed himself an instant\u2019s gratitude. He would save his annoyance at Joe\u2019s attitude for another time.<\/p>\n

When they pulled up to rest the horses, Adam said, \u201cSo, what are you mad about this time?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about,\u201d snapped Joe. He dismounted and loosened the cinch.<\/p>\n

Adam rolled his eyes as he followed suit. \u201cAre you still mad at Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? That\u2019s ridiculous!\u201d Joe focused intently on adjusting a stirrup that didn\u2019t need adjusting.<\/p>\n

Adam shrugged. \u201cIt would make sense if you were,\u201d he offered. \u201cHe left without a word. We haven\u2019t heard from him in well over a month. And we\u2019ve got to do all his work as well as our own.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not mad at him,\u201d said Joe. \u201cHe wouldn\u2019t have left if he didn\u2019t have a good reason.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe so\u2014but he still left.\u201d Adam didn\u2019t know why he kept saying it. It was like pressing on a bruise to see whether it still hurt.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d muttered Joe. \u201cLucky bastard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d It was the last thing Adam had expected to hear.<\/p>\n

Joe turned to face him squarely. \u201cI said he\u2019s a lucky bastard,\u201d he said, loudly and clearly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy? Because he lost the woman he loved? In your book, this makes him lucky?\u201d Adam suddenly wondered if there was something else wrong in Joe\u2019s head.<\/p>\n

But Joe shook his head. \u201cIt\u2019s not that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen what?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe studied the ground as though mud was a fascinating new discovery. \u201cHe wanted to go, and he did it,\u201d he said finally. \u201cHe just\u2014he just left. Nobody had to go with him. He did what he wanted, just like. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Just like a man does,<\/em>\u00a0Adam supplied silently. He waited without comment. After a minute, the younger man took a deep breath and raised his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty stupid, isn\u2019t it?\u201d Joe snorted. \u201cHoss gets his heart broken, and I\u2019m jealous because he got to go away by himself. He\u2019d probably give anything to be here and have everything be fine, and I\u2019d gladly take the broken heart if it meant I could just get away by myself for a couple days.\u201d He turned away abruptly.<\/p>\n

When Joe said nothing more, Adam rested one hand on Joe\u2019s shoulder. \u201cI didn\u2019t realize,\u201d he said quietly.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo reason you should.\u201d Joe\u2019s back was as tense as his voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not quite true.\u201d Adam let his hand linger on his brother\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n

The brothers stood quietly as the new leaves rustled in the breeze. Finally, Adam said, \u201cYou know, there are still two ways to get into Virginia City from here.\u201d Joe didn\u2019t respond, but Adam could feel him paying attention. \u201cIf you took the high road over on the ridge, you could meet me in town.\u201d It was the roundabout way that added an hour onto the trip. The Cartwright brothers often used that road when they were driving in the company of a lovely young lady. It wasn\u2019t much, Adam knew, but it was the best he could offer.<\/p>\n

Joe drew a deep breath. \u201cOkay,\u201d he said. He turned to face Adam. \u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust be careful,\u201d said Adam. He fought the sudden impulse to retract the suggestion.\u00a0Don\u2019t let him do it,<\/em>\u00a0came the thought. Firmly, he told himself that he was being ridiculous. They\u2019d been smothering the kid forever. It was a wonder he hadn\u2019t just taken off on his own. Besides, he hadn\u2019t had a fugue episode in nearly two weeks. For all they knew, the whole experience was behind them. Even so, he added, \u201cAnd don\u2019t dawdle. We\u2019ve got to get that bank draft and get home in time for supper.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe managed a half-grin. \u201cThen I guess I\u2019d better get going.\u201d He tightened the cinch and stepped into the stirrup to mount the pinto. Adam tightened his own cinch, trying to pretend he hadn\u2019t noticed that Joe hadn\u2019t used his swing mount. In fact, Adam hadn\u2019t seen Joe\u2019s famous ground-to-saddle leap since Hoss had left.\u00a0Hopefully soon,<\/em>\u00a0he thought.<\/p>\n

Adam mounted his horse and raised his hand. \u201cI\u2019ll meet you at the bank,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. \u201cI\u2019ll be there.\u201d In the second before he rode off, he met Adam\u2019s gaze again, and something in Joe\u2019s eyes made Adam\u2019s stomach lurch.<\/p>\n

Don\u2019t go,<\/em>\u00a0he wanted to call out, but the pinto was already vanishing up the road.<\/p>\n

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

The spring breeze rustled through the trees as the dappled gray stepped along the road. The buggy gleamed, and the scent of saddle oil rose from its soft leather seat. The horse\u2019s ears flicked as a wren darted past, but a single word from the comely driver kept him in line.<\/p>\n

Eleanor Gunther hummed as she drove. Another mile, and she would be in the arms of her beloved Timothy. She hoped he wasn\u2019t worried about how late she was\u2014they\u2019d planned on a picnic lunch by the river, and now the afternoon was half-gone. If only Papa weren\u2019t so stubborn. Timothy wasn\u2019t a ne\u2019er-do-well the way her father would have said. He was an artist. Back east, artists didn\u2019t shackle themselves to dull jobs like mining or banking. They lived free as spirits, making their living by their wits and their paints. Sometimes, he would send her sketches of the two of them together, and they made her heart flutter like a bird\u2019s wings.<\/p>\n

And when they were together at his cabin . . . oh, it was magical. He was so big, and she felt delicate and feminine and cherished in his arms. She loved sitting quietly to the side as he drew. Even though she normally insisted on a man\u2019s undivided attention\u2014and, in all fairness, she usually had it\u2014sometimes, she was content to let Timothy focus on his art. She adored watching his hands, so sure and strong, nearly dwarfing the pencil it raced over a sheet of paper, creating trees and skies and horses running in the wind, their nostrils flaring and tails flowing. The first time he asked to draw her, he\u2019d found it charming that she was shy. As the months passed, though, she became comfortable, almost brazen, in her willingness to allow him to draw whatever his art desired.<\/p>\n

She clucked to the horse. If only they could have met in town. She didn\u2019t have as much time today as she\u2019d have hoped, because Papa\u2019s board meeting had started late. Ah, well. She could still be back before anybody knew she\u2019d left the house. She giggled to herself as she thought of Papa sitting with all his dull directors, talking about business and money and thinking that she was sitting alone in her room with a book, while in truth, she was flying into the arms of sweet Timothy\u2014<\/p>\n

The next instant, she was tumbling into the mud along the edge of the road. She sat up, shaking her head, as a breathy voice said, \u201cOh, pardon me, miss!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is the meaning of this!\u201d she demanded.<\/p>\n

The dark-haired man touched the brim of his hat as he dismounted. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean to crowd you off the road.\u201d He reached down his right hand to help her up, and he smiled. \u201cYou\u2019re mighty pretty.\u201d<\/p>\n

She ignored his comment on the obvious as she tried brush the mud off her dress. \u201cLook what you did to me!\u201d She didn\u2019t even bother looking up at him as she snapped, \u201cThe least you can do is to put my buggy back on the road.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, miss.\u201d As she retrieved her hat, he pushed her buggy back up onto the road. \u201cI\u2019m awful sorry, miss.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked up at him and paused in her indignation. He was almost as tall as her beloved, and he had an excellent profile\u2014even better than Timothy\u2019s, if it wasn\u2019t disloyal to think so. This gentleman\u2019s lips were full and sensuous. She felt a tingle, and she forced herself to drop her gaze in a properly demure fashion. Watching him through her lashes, she held up her gloved hand for him to kiss. He took her hand, but he didn\u2019t seem to know what to do next. Shy boys were so endearing. She lifted her head, and he turned full-face toward her.<\/p>\n

She gasped. \u201cWhat happened to your face?\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes dropped. \u201cI got burned when I was little.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s terrible!\u201d She reached up, her hand stopping just short of the violent red scar. \u201cDoes it still hurt?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eleanor considered him. She could just picture it\u2014the little boy with the big brown eyes and perfect face, so tragically disfigured. His parents had no doubt locked him away somewhere so that they wouldn\u2019t have to be reminded of his imperfection. All these years, he had been waiting for someone who could see past his mutilation, someone who could see into the depths of his soul and know him for who he truly was. Such a beautiful, heartrending story\u2014better than any of the romantic tales she\u2019d hidden in her bureau drawer.<\/p>\n

She lifted her head. It was up to her to let him know that he was still perfect, still a man. \u201cWould you like to kiss me?\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes grew round. \u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d He leaned down and pecked her cheek, and she giggled.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot that like, silly. Like this.\u201d She placed her hands on either side of his neck, closed her eyes, and gently kissed his lips. She opened her eyes and smiled at the astonishment on his face. \u201cDid you like that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes, ma\u2019am!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you like to kiss me again?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes, ma\u2019am!\u201d He pulled her close, and the two stood in the road kissing until he pulled away.<\/p>\n

\u201cI should get going,\u201d he said. \u201cMe and my brother\u2014we\u2019re supposed to meet in Virginia City.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eleanor considered this. \u201cWouldn\u2019t you like to ride alongside my buggy for a little while?\u201d she invited.<\/p>\n

\u201cI shouldn\u2019t,\u201d he said. \u201cMy brother might get mad.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I\u2019m sure he wouldn\u2019t mind,\u201d said Eleanor. \u201cHe\u2019d think it was just fine that you were escorting me to\u2014to my destination,\u201d she ended hastily. The thought of what her beloved would do if she rode up with this man flashed through her mind. Timothy could get so jealous sometimes. She couldn\u2019t bear to see this darling wounded sparrow beaten senseless by Timothy. \u201cOn second thought, maybe you\u2019re right. It\u2019s been lovely meeting you. I hope I see you again some time.\u201d She held out her hand for him to assist her into the buggy, and he drew her into his arms, kissing her more insistently. \u201cAll right, that\u2019s quite enough,\u201d she said as she tried to push him away. He was stronger than she\u2019d expected. She pushed against his chest as she turned her face away from his. \u201cI really need to be going,\u201d she said, but he was holding on.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust one more kiss,\u201d he begged.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot now,\u201d she said as firmly as she could manage, but she could hear a slight quaver in her voice betraying her nervousness. To her relief, he released her, and she smoothed out the wrinkles in her sleeves. When she looked up, his head was bowed, and she felt ashamed of her sharpness. She smiled encouragingly as she said, \u201cPerhaps if you\u2019re around when I\u2019m coming back this way, we\u2019ll meet again. Goodbye now!\u201d She scrambled into the buggy and slapped the reins on the horse\u2019s back, ignoring his calls to come back.<\/p>\n

Barely a quarter-mile down the road, she heard hoof beats. In these woods, she couldn\u2019t tell where they were coming from. She glanced back over her shoulder, and she saw the man with the scar riding after her. She clucked and slapped the reins to urge the horse on, but a wheel went off the edge of the road into the mud.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere, let me help,\u201d said the scar-faced man, riding up beside her.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you leave me alone?\u201d she hissed. What was wrong with him? Why wasn\u2019t he listening to her?<\/p>\n

\u201cI just want to help you,\u201d he said. \u201cYou need help.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t need your help! Leave me alone!\u201d She slapped the reins harder, but the horse couldn\u2019t free the buggy. Where was Timothy? Why hadn\u2019t he come after her? Hadn\u2019t he noticed how late she was? Wasn\u2019t he worried?<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got to get out,\u201d the man said. Before she could protest, his hands were around her waist, and he was lifting her from the buggy. He set her feet on the road and said, \u201cYou\u2019re so beautiful.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you please\u2014\u201d Her words were cut off as his lips covered her mouth, pressing with new intensity. With one arm, he held her body against him while his other hand held her neck to keep her from pulling away. Her heart pounded as she struggled to get free, but he was so strong.<\/p>\n

Dimly, she heard hoof beats coming along the road, and a man\u2019s voice called out, \u201cLet go of her!\u201d And then, she felt powerful hands seize her. . . .<\/p>\n

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

\u201cJoe? Joe, wake up. Come on, now. It\u2019s time to wake up.\u201d<\/p>\n

It sounded like Adam\u2019s voice, but that didn\u2019t make any sense. Adam was meeting him in town. He wasn\u2019t anywhere near the high road.<\/p>\n

Joe felt somebody slapping his cheek. \u201cCome on, Joe, wake up,\u201d the person who sounded like Adam said again.<\/p>\n

Go away,<\/em>\u00a0he wanted to say. His head was pounding, his ribcage throbbed, and his stomach felt like he was tumbling down a hill in a barrel.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnything yet?\u201d asked another voice. It was familiar, but Joe couldn\u2019t place it.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot yet,\u201d said Adam\u2019s voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cTry the cold compresses again,\u201d said the other voice.<\/p>\n

Seconds later, freezing wetness on his forehead startled him. He forced his eyes open. \u201cCut it out,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, look who\u2019s awake.\u201d Joe couldn\u2019t see who was leaning over him. He blinked hard, but everything was still fuzzy. He reached out, and a familiar hand grasped his. \u201cIt\u2019s about time,\u201d said Adam, his voice ever so slightly unsteady. \u201cWe were getting worried.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh? Wha\u2014what?\u201d Joe\u2019s tongue felt thick and clumsy.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust take it easy,\u201d said Adam. \u201cHow do you feel?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m okay,\u201d Joe managed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI doubt that very much,\u201d said the other voice. \u201cHow many fingers am I holding up?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe blinked hard and squinted. \u201cTwo,\u201d he said with as much certainty as he could work up.<\/p>\n

\u201cClose,\u201d said the other voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d asked Adam in a low voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt means he\u2019s not riding home tonight,\u201d said the other voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he awake? Can I talk to him?\u201d came still another familiar voice. This one was gruff and anxious.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot yet,\u201d said somebody. It was getting hard to keep up with the voices.<\/p>\n

Joe blinked again, and the fog lifted a bit. \u201cAdam,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m right here, Joe,\u201d said Adam, bending over him. \u201cJust take it easy. You\u2019re fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Before Joe could respond, his rising nausea tipped over the edge. \u201cBowl,\u201d he managed, reaching for the table he could barely see. Somebody held the bowl for him, and his stomach rejected its contents. Exhausted, Joe lay back, closing his eyes as low voices murmured and the cool hardness of a water glass pressed against his lower lip. He sipped, his head pounding so loudly that he couldn\u2019t believe they couldn\u2019t hear it.<\/p>\n

Eventually, the pounding lessened. The wet cloth resting against his face felt good, and he allowed himself to relax into its comfort.<\/p>\n

\u201cAny better now?\u201d Adam asked after a bit.<\/p>\n

\u201cSome,\u201d said Joe. He opened his eyes, but his brother was still a dark blur. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam leaned close enough for Joe to make out his somber expression. \u201cWell, we\u2019re not quite sure,\u201d he admitted. \u201cLooks like you ran into a little problem up on the high road.\u201d<\/p>\n

Even feeling so rotten, Joe couldn\u2019t help grinning. \u201cYou\u2019re gonna be in so much trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam chuckled. \u201cYou could try a little harder not to enjoy that fact.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d Joe asked again.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that\u2019s what you\u2019re gonna need to tell us.\u201d Roy Coffee leaned over Adam\u2019s shoulder. The silver star on his vest glinted in the lamplight. \u201cDo you know who you fought with?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFought with?\u201d Joe squinted to see the lawman\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou had a hell of a fight with somebody,\u201d Adam said. \u201cI don\u2019t what all happened, but it looks like you ended up getting hit over the head. You\u2019ve got a real good lump back there. Doesn\u2019t it hurt?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy whole head hurts,\u201d Joe confessed. He felt like he was inside a church bell that wouldn\u2019t stop tolling. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam started to answer, but Roy cut in. \u201cI wanna hear what Joe has to say before you start tellin\u2019 him what you think,\u201d the older man said. \u201cJoe, what\u2019s the last thing you remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe thought hard. He could feel everybody watching him as he stumbled through the fog in his mind. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he said at last.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t know what you remember?\u201d Roy sounded dubious.<\/p>\n

\u201cRoy, leave him be.\u201d Doc Martin came around the other side of the bed. \u201cJoe, how many fingers am I holding up now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThree,\u201d said Joe, not quite guessing.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now?\u201d<\/p>\n

He squinted. \u201cStill three.\u201d He held his breath, but everybody seemed satisfied with his answers.<\/p>\n

The doctor peered at him. \u201cHow\u2019s your stomach? Do you still feel sick?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d Joe lied, and it was clear nobody believed him anyway.<\/p>\n

The doctor pulled the edge of the blanket up a little higher on Joe\u2019s shoulders. \u201cAll right, you two, he\u2019s answered enough questions for now,\u201d he said in that tone that would tolerate no argument. \u201cAdam, you can stay for a while, but your brother needs to rest. Roy, I\u2019m keeping Joe overnight, and if he\u2019s up for questions in the morning, you can come back then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, Doc\u2014I got a posse out there lookin\u2019 for a killer, an\u2019 Little Joe here might know something that\u2019ll help!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA killer? Who\u2019s dead?\u201d Joe tried to keep his voice steady.\u00a0Oh, God, no, not again,<\/em>\u00a0he begged silently as his stomach pitched.<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy, Joe,\u201d said Adam, a reassuring hand on his brother\u2019s arm. \u201cYou didn\u2019t do anything. John Gunther\u2019s buggy was found right where you were, and his daughter\u2019s body was found about a quarter of a mile away in the woods.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDadburnit, Adam Cartwright, would you stop tellin\u2019 him things before he says what he knows!\u201d The sheriff\u2019s mustache quivered with frustration.<\/p>\n

Joe squinted. \u201cWhose body?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJohn Gunther\u2019s youngest girl,\u201d said Adam.<\/p>\n

\u201cGunther\u2014you mean Margaret? I thought she moved to Denver. Did she come back?\u201d Joe squinted hard, as though seeing more clearly meant he\u2019d remember more clearly.<\/p>\n

\u201cMargaret\u2019s the older one,\u201d said Adam. \u201cThis was the younger one, Eleanor.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe bit his lip, concentrating as best he could through the pounding. He had a vague memory of Eleanor from back when they were all in school. When he was fourteen and walking Margaret home, her little sister would insist on walking on his other side, chattering up a storm. He tried to figure out if he\u2019d seen Eleanor recently, but all he could picture was a skinny kid with pigtails and freckles.<\/p>\n

Adam was still talking. \u201cWhen you didn\u2019t show up in town, I went out to see where you were. Yes, I was concerned about a fugue,\u201d he admitted when Joe raised his brows slightly. \u201cGunther had some men out looking for his daughter, and I met up with them a little way out of town. We found you unconscious, and there was a whole mess of tracks. Somebody\u2019d dumped Eleanor\u2019s body in the woods down toward the creek. Any of that sound familiar?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam, will you jest hush up!\u201d the sheriff huffed.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, no more talking,\u201d said the doctor firmly. \u201cRoy, you can talk to Little Joe in the morning if he\u2019s up to it. Right now, he\u2019s going to get some rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t go.\u201d Joe\u2019s hand gripped his brother\u2019s.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d said Adam. \u201cI\u2019m not going anywhere.\u201d He held Joe\u2019s hand as the doctor ushered the sheriff out and turned down the flame on the lamp. The door closed behind the doctor, and Joe felt himself begin to drift off.<\/p>\n

His eyes were just closing when he thought of something. \u201cHow\u2019d she die?\u201d<\/p>\n

If Adam was surprised at the question, he didn\u2019t show it. \u201cHer neck was broken. Roy says her throat was all bruised, like somebody\u2019d choked her. Does that ring any bells?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe thought. He couldn\u2019t say\u00a0yes,<\/em>\u00a0but he couldn\u2019t say no, either. Something was nudging at the back of his mind the way Cochise nudged his arm to demand a treat. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he murmured, but even he could hear that his words were running together.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s okay, Joe. Just go to sleep. Maybe you\u2019ll remember something in the morning.\u201d Adam\u2019s thumb rubbed the back of Joe\u2019s hand, and Joe felt himself slipping away. Just before he tumbled over the edge into sleep, something flashed through his mind, but it was gone too fast to know what it meant.<\/p>\n

Red.<\/em><\/p>\n

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

A tall, lean man with classic features and a wide smile stood as Marcus entered the office. \u201cGood afternoon,\u201d he said, extending his hand. \u201cWhat can I do for you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus pulled himself up to his full height, and he still had to tilt his head back to look the man in the eye. \u201cI\u2019m Marcus Tucker,\u201d he said, taking the man\u2019s hand. He watched as the most fleeting distaste at the dampness of Marcus\u2019s palm flashed through the man\u2019s eyes. \u201cI\u2019d like to see Attorney Simmons, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course. Please have a seat.\u201d The man knocked once at a closed door and then slipped inside, closing it behind him.<\/p>\n

Marcus looked around the room. Graceful furniture, richly colored rugs, leather-bound books lining the walls. It figured that this man would have such a fancy office. The world rewarded beauty liberally. Only those who had not been so blessed were forced to use cunning and intellect to accomplish their dreams.<\/p>\n

The door opened again. \u201cRight this way,\u201d said the tall man. He stood back, and Marcus entered the second office.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d known, of course, that Attorney Simmons was a woman. After all, he hadn\u2019t spent the three days since Elias\u2019s unfortunate arrest doing nothing. Marcus had researched every lawyer in Virginia City. Anna Simmons\u2019 name had come up several times, often in conjunction with stories of a trial from last fall. Folks still talked about how she\u2019d gotten a man off a murder charge on the basis of some ludicrous theory about how he had memory lapses and couldn\u2019t remember what had happened. From what they said, she\u2019d sold the jury on some tale that the memory lapses were the result of an Indian massacre or some such nonsense. Nobody knew how much she\u2019d charged for this, but more than one person mentioned that old Ben Cartwright was loaded and he\u2019d have paid anything to get his boy off.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut she\u2019s a woman,\u201d Marcus had mused. \u201cHow can a woman be a lawyer?\u201d<\/p>\n

The fellow next to him at the bar shrugged. \u201cAll I can tell you is that Little Joe Cartwright is a free man today because of her.\u201d He snorted, \u201cProbably don\u2019t hurt that she\u2019s a damn fine looker\u2014wouldn\u2019t surprise me if the men on the jury were thinkin\u2019 about other things than a murder, if you know what I mean.\u201d He elbowed Marcus conspiratorially, and Marcus forced a smile.<\/p>\n

Now, as he walked into her office, he saw what the man had meant. Blond hair neatly pinned up, but not so severe that it didn\u2019t frame her lovely oval face. Her eyes were blue, fringed with dark lashes. As she gave him a small welcoming smile, he noticed slight dimples in her cheeks. She wasn\u2019t much taller than he, and while she was slender, he noticed with pleasure that she was round where a man prefers roundness. He allowed himself an instant to regret the proper white blouse that buttoned all the way to her chin.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you do, Mr. Tucker,\u201d she said, extending her hand. Her voice was low and sweet, and Marcus had to force himself to concentrate on the words. \u201cI\u2019m Anna Simmons. I believe you\u2019ve met my partner, Richard Palmer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Simmons.\u201d He took her hand with just his fingertips so as not to repulse her with his damp palm.<\/p>\n

\u201cWon\u2019t you sit down?\u201d She returned to sit behind her desk. To Marcus\u2019s displeasure, the sandy-haired man took the other seat in front of her desk. Marcus took the remaining chair, angling it slightly so that he was facing the woman and ignoring the man.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat can we do for you, Mr. Tucker?\u201d she inquired.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs you may have heard, my brother, Elias Tucker, has been arrested for murder,\u201d said Marcus. \u201cI want him acquitted.\u201d It was a tall order, and he knew it, but he refused to settle for less. That first night the posse had brought him in, Elias had babbled and blathered about a man and the girl. Marcus had bought drinks and asked questions in half the saloons in town, but it all proved fruitless. The sheriff told him that a man\u2014presumably the fellow Elias had run into\u2014was found unconscious next to the buggy, and the girl\u2019s body was nowhere near there. Elias swore up and down that he hadn\u2019t knocked the fellow over the head, but the rumors around town were that the man had been hit so hard that it was a wonder his skull hadn\u2019t been fractured.<\/p>\n

Marcus cursed himself a thousand times for agreeing to meet Elias in Virginia City instead of escorting him there.\u00a0I want to go fishing,<\/em>\u00a0his brother had been whining for weeks, and finally, Marcus gave in. Well, never again. Once Elias was acquitted, he would never leave Marcus\u2019s sight again.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want him acquitted,\u201d he repeated. Let there be no mistake about it. One way or another, Elias Tucker would walk out of that cell. After all, there was ten thousand dollars in gold waiting for him once he was free. A man simply couldn\u2019t die with that much money left unspent.<\/p>\n

The woman was watching him as though she expected him to say more. He waited, and eventually she said, \u201cI can represent him, but I can\u2019t guarantee an acquittal. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve asked around,\u201d said Marcus. \u201cYour reputation in this town is excellent. People are still talking about that murder trial you handled last fall.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat was a very unusual case,\u201d said the woman. \u201cAs with any other, we had no way of knowing what the jury would do. We did our best, and fortunately, the jury believed our witnesses.\u201d<\/p>\n

We. Our.<\/em>\u00a0Marcus allowed himself a sidewise glance at the man. \u201cNo one has mentioned him,\u201d he commented.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Palmer hadn\u2019t yet come to Virginia City at that time,\u201d she replied. \u201cHe just arrived this spring, but already, he\u2019s developing an excellent reputation.\u201d Marcus looked down for a second to avoid showing a sneer at the thought of what kind of reputation the pretty boy was developing.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want the best for my brother,\u201d he said as he straightened. \u201cAnd I can afford to pay for it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman looked at him as though she had a dozen questions. The one that came out was unexpected: \u201cHow does your brother feel about being represented by a woman?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wants the best,\u201d said Marcus flatly. When she appeared to be unmoved by the compliment, he leaned forward. \u201cMiss Simmons, my brother is . . . a little slow. He will agree to whatever I tell him is best for him. Based on my conversations with people in this town, you are what\u2019s best for him, so you needn\u2019t worry what he\u2019ll think about being represented by a woman or anything else. Now, is there anything else, or would you like to go over to the jail to talk to him?\u201d<\/p>\n

She rose. \u201cMr. Tucker, would you mind waiting in the outer office for a few moments?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course not,\u201d he said, well aware that his tone indicated otherwise. He stepped into the other office, and the man closed the door firmly behind him.<\/p>\n

He wandered around the office, perusing the books. He pulled one down and flipped a page open at random, his eyes widening as he read:<\/p>\n

The contract of cession must be interpreted by the words of it, according to their received meaning and use in the language in which it is written, as that can be collected from judicial opinions concerning the rights of private persons upon rivers. . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

Rage bubbled up in him. This should have been his life. He should have been the one sitting behind a fancy desk, dispensing words of wisdom, reading these books and knowing what this elaborate language meant to the poor slobs who walked past his door. He should have been wearing a satin vest. He should have been the one who was free to walk into the office of a beautiful woman and close the door. This should have been his life, and instead, he was doomed to spend his days atoning for his actions, cleaning up after Elias and never having a moment\u2019s peace.\u00a0I could buy and sell you a thousand times over,<\/em>\u00a0he wanted to shout through the door at the handsome couple inside, but it wasn\u2019t true. Money would only take a man so far. To win a woman like that, he would have needed to be as handsome as tall, lean Mr. Palmer.<\/p>\n

The door opened, and Palmer beckoned him inside with a hand that had doubtless never shoveled horse dung or thrown slops to pigs. Marcus slammed the book shut and jammed it back onto the shelf. He barely favored the tall man with a glance as he returned to his seat.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d he asked. \u201cAre you going to represent my brother?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll meet with him,\u201d said the woman. \u201cIf he wants to retain this firm, we will represent him. Bear in mind, though, that it\u2019s his decision, and no one else\u2019s.\u201d She seemed to be saying something else, but Marcus couldn\u2019t quite make it out.<\/p>\n

He rose. \u201cMy brother will do whatever I recommend,\u201d he said. \u201cConsider yourself retained.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

The knock echoed through the room. At first, no one moved. Then, with one more questioning look at his youngest son, Ben crossed the room to open the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello, Anna,\u201d he said. He smiled as warmly as ever, careful to hide the ache in his heart at the thought that this lovely woman would never be his daughter-in-law. \u201cCome in, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHello, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d she said. If she was harboring a similar ache, she hid it well. She indicated the bespectacled man with her. \u201cMr. Cartwright, this is Marcus Tucker\u2014Elias Tucker\u2019s brother. Marcus, this is Mr. Ben Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

The men shook hands and exchanged appropriate greetings as Ben guided them into the house and closed the door. \u201cMr. Tucker, I know you\u2019ve already met Sheriff Coffee,\u201d he said, gesturing to the grizzled man in the red leather chair. \u201cThis is my eldest son, Adam, and this is my youngest, Joseph.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam approached, his hand extended. \u201cPleased to meet you, Mr. Tucker. How are you, Anna?\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled. \u201cI\u2019m fine, thank you, Adam.\u201d She turned to Joe, who had risen from the settee. \u201cHow are you doing, Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe? Oh, I\u2019m fine,\u201d said Joe breezily. \u201cHow do you do, Mr. Tucker? I\u2019m Joe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you do.\u201d The man\u2019s deep voice was at once the same as Ben\u2019s and yet different. There was something in Ben Cartwright\u2019s voice that was missing from Marcus Tucker\u2019s. For an instant, Joe caught a flash of something in the little man\u2019s eyes that he couldn\u2019t identify, but it felt distinctly suspicious and resentful\u2014hostile, even, and more than that. This man didn\u2019t even know Joe, but he hated him.<\/p>\n

You\u2019re nuts,<\/em>\u00a0he told himself as he resumed his seat on the settee. He\u2019d done nothing to Marcus Tucker, nothing at all. There was no reason for Tucker to think anything at all about him.<\/p>\n

Hop Sing offered coffee to the newcomers. A bit more small talk, and Anna turned to Joe. \u201cI suppose we should get started,\u201d she said, and Joe felt himself tense.<\/p>\n

The request from Anna had come six days earlier. The note was straightforward: she represented Elias Tucker, and the sheriff had told her that Joe had been present at the scene of the killing. Would Joe be willing to meet with her to tell her what he knew?<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t like it,\u201d Ben had said to Adam that night. \u201cWhat if she tries to make it out like Joe\u2019s the killer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe wouldn\u2019t,\u201d said Adam. \u201cAnd anyway, she can\u2019t. Eleanor\u2019s body was found all the way down by the creek, and Joe had already been knocked out up on the road.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe could try to suggest that somebody knocked Joe out after he killed the girl,\u201d Ben said.<\/p>\n

Adam shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t see how she could,\u201d he said. \u201cRoy showed me where they found her. If Joe had been tramping through those woods\u2014especially carrying a body\u2014he\u2019d have had mud on his pants halfway up to his knees. I saw him right after they brought him in\u2014the only mud was on the soles of his boots.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben sighed. \u201cI just wish your brother remembered what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s sigh matched his father\u2019s. \u201cSo do I.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doc had ordered that Joe stay in bed for ten days, after which he was restricted to the house for another week. Undeterred, Anna had offered to come out to the ranch to speak with him. Joe refused to meet with her until he could get up, requiring the interview to be postponed to this day.<\/p>\n

Now, Adam showed Marcus Tucker to a chair next to where Anna sat on the settee, and Ben pulled up a chair on the other side, where Joe sat. Adam returned to his blue velvet chair, and they waited for Anna\u2019s first question.<\/p>\n

\u201cNaturally, we\u2019re talking about what happened on May seventh. Joe, the sheriff tells me you were found unconscious on the high road next to the Gunthers\u2019 buggy,\u201d she began. \u201cDo you remember what happened at any time before you woke up in the doctor\u2019s office?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe considered the question as though it was the first time he\u2019d thought of it instead of the fiftieth. He caught Tucker\u2019s intense look, and again, he saw a glint in the man\u2019s eyes like the steel flash of a dagger.\u00a0Cut it out,<\/em>\u00a0he told himself sternly. Tucker was just worried about his brother. He was probably worried about what Joe was going to say, whether he thought this was going to be the witness who put the noose around his brother\u2019s neck.\u00a0Then you can relax,<\/em>\u00a0he thought at Tucker as he answered, \u201cThe last thing I remember is being with Adam on the ride into Virginia City.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWere you both on the high road?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Joe said again. \u201cWe were going to split up. I was going to take the high road, and he was going to take the main road and meet me in town.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy did you split up?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe caught Marcus Tucker studying him. \u201cI wanted some time to myself,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s been pretty busy around here lately. Haven\u2019t had much breathing space.\u201d He held Anna\u2019s gaze with his last comments, willing her to understand what he was saying.<\/p>\n

She nodded slightly. \u201cWhose idea was it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was mine,\u201d Adam volunteered.<\/p>\n

Anna frowned at him. \u201cAdam, please let Joe answer the questions.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was Adam\u2019s idea,\u201d Joe admitted. He could feel his father disapproving. Well, it was bound to come out at some point. There would be repercussions later, but the brothers would handle them then.<\/p>\n

\u201cBefore May seventh, when was the last time you\u2019d seen Eleanor Gunther?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said Joe. \u201cAnd to be clear, I don\u2019t recall seeing her that day, either. To tell you the truth, I couldn\u2019t tell you the last time I did see her. We may have passed on the sidewalk in town or seen each other at church, but I don\u2019t think we\u2019ve said more than \u2018good day\u2019 in years. We don\u2019t\u2014I mean,\u00a0didn\u2019t<\/em>\u2014tend to run into each other. She was\u2014oh, I don\u2019t know\u2014five or six years younger than I am, and we just didn\u2019t have the same friends.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna nodded. \u201cDo you have any memory at all of being on the high road on May seventh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d said Joe. \u201cLike I said, the last thing I remember is being with Adam before we split up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna lowered her voice slightly. \u201cWas this a fugue, do you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Joe said. \u201cDoc seems to think I might not remember because of getting knocked out. He said that, as concussions go, this one was kind of serious.\u201d An understatement, to be sure, but he found himself reluctant to talk about himself in front of the little man with the froggy eyes. His stomach was feeling unsettled, and he just wanted to finish this discussion.<\/p>\n

\u201cMay I ask a question?\u201d Tucker asked, and all at once the room vibrated with tension.<\/p>\n

Anna looked to Joe. \u201cIs that all right with you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe swallowed hard as he nodded.\u00a0His brother\u2019s on trial,<\/em>\u00a0he reminded himself. Adam would have done no less if Joe were the accused. \u201cGo ahead,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not certain that I understand this whole fugue business,\u201d said Tucker. \u201cMiss Simmons has described it, but I don\u2019t quite understand. Are you saying that if something happens while you\u2019re in a fugue, you\u2019ll never remember it?\u201d The words sounded like a simple question, but Joe suddenly felt as though he was being threatened at knifepoint, as though he was being dared to remember.<\/p>\n

He met the little man\u2019s eyes, refusing to blink first. \u201cThat\u2019s how it\u2019s worked so far.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut if you\u2019re just not remembering because you got hit on the head, then you might recall later what happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe. I guess we\u2019ll just have to see.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker straightened. \u201cThis is my brother\u2019s life we\u2019re talking about, Mr. Cartwright. I\u2019ll thank you not to be so cavalier about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not being cavalier,\u201d said Joe, trying to hold his temper. He could feel his father and Adam ready to jump into the fray, and he held up his hand. \u201cBelieve me, Mr. Tucker, I\u2019d like nothing more than to be able to remember what happened that day. An innocent girl died, and if I can remember something that\u2019ll help catch the killer, I want to do it. But the truth is that if I was in a fugue at the time, I\u2019m never going to remember anything. That time from when I left my brother until I woke up at the doctor\u2019s office is always going to be a blank. It\u2019s only if this particular memory lapse is the result of being hit over the head that I have any chance of remembering, and the only way I\u2019ll ever know which it was is if I actually do remember something.\u201d<\/p>\n

He forced himself to hold Tucker\u2019s pale blue gaze. There was something terrifyingly familiar in the man\u2019s eyes, something ruthless that flamed beneath the icy scrutiny. All at once, he felt as though a frigid wind had blown through the room. He was sure he\u2019d never seen Marcus Tucker before, but when the man licked his thin lips, Joe\u2019s stomach lurched as though in bizarre recognition. He stood abruptly. \u201cGood-bye, Anna, Mr. Tucker.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe\u2014\u201d Anna began uncertainly. She reached out as if to shake his hand, but Joe stepped back.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood-bye,\u201d he repeated. He dug his nails into his palm again as she rose to go, murmuring her good-byes, followed by Tucker. At the door, she paused, turning back.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I have any other questions, may we speak again?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

But Joe was still watching Tucker. The little man\u2019s tongue appeared ever so briefly as he licked his pale lips again, and Joe felt a chill down his spine at the snake-like gesture.\u00a0Stay here, Anna,<\/em>\u00a0he thought suddenly.\u00a0Don\u2019t go with him.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s wait and see if you have any other questions,\u201d said Ben when Joe didn\u2019t answer. His hand rested protectively on Joe\u2019s shoulder, but he waited until the door had closed behind them before addressing his pale son. \u201cYou okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. \u201cYeah,\u201d he lied. The room was starting to sway. He tried to sound casual as he added, \u201cI\u2019m just tired. I think I\u2019m gonna lie down for a little while.\u201d Without waiting for an answer, he headed up the stairs, mindless of the talk below him.<\/p>\n

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands as he tried to breathe deeply, when his father came in. \u201cJoe, what\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot feeling good,\u201d he mumbled.<\/p>\n

If this uncharacteristic admission startled Pa, he hid it well. He sat down on the bed next to Joe and pressed his hand against his son\u2019s forehead. \u201cYou\u2019re not warm, anyway,\u201d he observed with relief. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you just lie back and rest for a while. Maybe this was little too much for your first day up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe,\u201d Joe allowed. He pulled off his boots and lay down, allowing his father to cover him with a quilt. He couldn\u2019t remember ever being so cold, not since . . . not since. . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy, mister,\u201d said an unfamiliar voice. \u201cJust lie still.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the\u2014where am I?\u201d Joe tried to sit up, but someone pushed him back. His entire body throbbed, his ribcage hurt like a horse had rolled on him, and the back of his neck felt like someone was driving an axe into it.<\/p>\n

\u201cFort Emerson.\u201d A cool, wet cloth came to rest over his eyes. \u201cYou get some rest now. You\u2019re gonna be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2014how\u2014?\u201d He pulled off the cloth. His hands were shaking. \u201cWho are you? Where are the others?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it easy, mister.\u201d A stocky man with a graying mustache hovered over him. \u201cYou warm enough, or you want another blanket?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBlanket.\u201d He rolled onto his side, curling into a ball to try to get warm. Another blanket covered him, and at his nod, another one, but still he felt as though he\u2019d been drenched in icy water and would never be warm again. \u201cHow did I get here?\u201d he managed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were lucky. Our troops were out on a routine mission and they found your stagecoach. At first, they didn\u2019t think there were any survivors, but you musta made noise or something, so they brought you in. You been here since yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut\u2014how\u2014\u201d he tried, but the man was still talking.<\/p>\n

\u201cLooks like the savages tried to lift your scalp. Good thing our men came along when they did. The doc stitched you up real good, so you got nothing to worry about. I bet your hair\u2019ll even cover the scar.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about\u2014there were others\u2014\u201d His teeth were chattering.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know nothin\u2019 about no others,\u201d he said. \u201cYou\u2019re the only one they brought in.\u201d His voice softened. \u201cIf there were any other survivors, they\u2019d have brung \u2019em in.\u201d The man laid his hand on Joe\u2019s shoulder. \u201cIs there somebody we should get in touch with?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy father. Ben Cartwright. Virginia City.\u201d He pulled the blankets up to his ears. \u201cAre you sure. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, mister.\u201d The man sounded sad as he rested a hand on Joe\u2019s forehead. \u201cI\u2019m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

He forced himself to lie still now as his father drew the draperies. \u201cTry to get some sleep, son,\u201d said Pa. Joe nodded, closing his eyes as he heard the door latch click shut.<\/p>\n

And then, he rolled onto his side and curled up into a ball, trembling beneath the quilt as though he would never be warm again.<\/p>\n

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

Hoss slowed his horse as he came up to the curve. It wasn\u2019t that he didn\u2019t want to get home. He\u2019d been gone a whole lot longer than he\u2019d originally expected. Pa was probably getting antsy, and Adam and Joe were likely getting pretty sore about having to handle all the work. No matter how he felt, he knew it was high time he got back to the Ponderosa.<\/p>\n

As he rounded the curve, he saw it. His favorite place\u2014the spot his family had always called Hoss Heaven. He could almost see the house he\u2019d planned to build for them, with the curtains in the open windows fluttering in the breeze as the scent of fresh-baked biscuits wafted out to him. From the front porch, they\u2019d have had a view of the sun setting over the lake, fiery oranges and pinks reflecting in the dark blues and greens. Unbidden, the memory came to him. . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, do you think you\u2019d ever want to move out of town?\u201d He tried to sound as though it was just a casual question, just regular conversation after supper in her parlor.<\/em><\/p>\n

She smiled up at him, a glint of mischief in her eyes. \u201cThat would depend,\u201d she said. \u201cWhy would I be moving out of town?\u201d<\/p>\n

He drew her just a bit closer. He knew it wasn\u2019t quite proper for the two of them to sit here on the settee with nobody else in the house except her cook back in the kitchen, but those kinds of things didn\u2019t seem to bother her.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I don\u2019t know,\u201d he said. \u201cMaybe if there was a real good reason. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLike what?\u201d Her smile broadened, and he couldn\u2019t help himself\u2014he leaned down and kissed her.<\/p>\n

\u201cHmmm.\u201d She ran a finger lightly along his ear and down his neck. \u201cThat could be a very good reason, but I\u2019m not sure. Would you mind telling me that reason again?\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned to her and drew her into his arms, kissing her long and deep. \u201cYou convinced now?\u201d<\/p>\n

She reached up to smooth his hair. \u201cOh, I think it\u2019s going to take a whole lot more convincing than that,\u201d she said, and this time it was she who leaned in to kiss him. . . .<\/p>\n

He shook his head to rid himself of the memory. It had been a nice enough thought, but obviously, she wasn\u2019t the right one. Any woman who could doubt his brother\u2019s innocence\u2014not to mention taking up with somebody new that fast\u2014well, clearly she hadn\u2019t really loved him after all.<\/p>\n

But a tiny kernel in his heart just refused to believe that. Maybe it was hope, or maybe it was more, but when he thought of all the time they\u2019d spent together, all the secrets they\u2019d shared, all the private moments\u2014not to mention everything she\u2019d done in defending Joe\u2014he just couldn\u2019t believe that she hadn\u2019t loved him. All these weeks he\u2019d spent trying to outrun his own heart, and in the end, here he was with two facts he just couldn\u2019t fight.<\/p>\n

She had loved him.<\/p>\n

And he still loved her.<\/p>\n

He put his heels to his horse. It wouldn\u2019t be quite fair to say that he was running from the spot, but after all this time away, getting home ten minutes sooner wasn\u2019t going to mean much. Still, he didn\u2019t slow his mount until they were well past Hoss Heaven, coming down that last rise before the meadow that stretched out, lush and green with spring rains, almost right up to the main house itself.<\/p>\n

He rode into the yard, exchanging greetings with the hands working in the corral and the barn. Saddle-stiff, he winced as he dismounted at long last. A final pat of thanks on the horse\u2019s flank, and he untied his saddlebags and headed into the house.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, look who\u2019s home! Welcome back, son!\u201d Pa\u2019s welcome, so warm and genuine, brought a smile to Hoss\u2019s face in spite of everything,. His father grasped his arm as he pumped his hand. \u201cIt\u2019s good to see you, boy,\u201d he said more quietly. The deep brown eyes searched Hoss\u2019s, the question plain, and Hoss shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s good to be home,\u201d he said, and in a way it was true. \u201cHow\u2019s everything going?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can talk over supper,\u201d said his father. \u201cIt\u2019s almost ready. You go and wash up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss\u2019s smile broadened. \u201cGood thing you reminded me,\u201d he said. \u201cI reckon I ain\u2019t washed up before a meal in weeks!\u201d<\/p>\n

Pa chuckled. \u201cDon\u2019t be fresh. You sound like Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019s he doin\u2019?\u201d Hoss tried to sound casual.<\/p>\n

Pa\u2019s smile faded. \u201cHe\u2019s all right,\u201d he said, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d It was the one thing he\u2019d worried about while he was gone\u2014that Joe would end up in trouble. It was the reason he\u2019d left that note for Adam, telling him that if they needed him, Adam should write to him in Placerville care of general delivery, and he\u2019d check in there every now and again. All he\u2019d gotten from Adam were quick notes to let him know they were thinking of him, and so he\u2019d assumed all was well. Now, seeing Pa\u2019s eyes, he felt a wave of anger at his older brother, who had clearly been holding out on him.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere was a problem,\u201d Pa admitted. He gave Hoss a quick summary of the past two weeks, light on details and heavy on reassurance, ending with, \u201cIn fact, why don\u2019t you go on up and see if Joe\u2019s awake? It would probably be good if he had something to eat.\u201d<\/p>\n

Moments later, Hoss stood before Joe\u2019s closed door. He tapped gently. No answer. He knocked harder. Still silence. He eased the door open, peering around the edge into the dimly lit room.<\/p>\n

At first, it looked as though the bedclothes were a mere tangle with no one in the bed. \u201cWhat the\u2014?\u201d Hoss muttered as he lit the lamp. Joe usually slept sprawled out, covers half-kicked off. But Pa had said. . . . Shaking his head, he reached for the top quilt.<\/p>\n

\u201cAaaargh!\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe sat bolt upright, wild-eyed, his hand clamped on Hoss\u2019s wrist as he thrashed to free himself of the quilts that had completely hidden him. His chest heaved, and a moan of pain escaped him.<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy, Joe, it\u2019s just me.\u201d Hoss sat on the edge of the bed, his free hand on his brother\u2019s shoulder. \u201cTake it easy now. You\u2019re all right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Joe\u2019s arm was pressed against his midsection. Hoss winced in sympathy; he\u2019d cracked ribs any number of times in his life, and he knew full well how painful they were. It was usually a few weeks before he could take a deep breath without wanting to yell.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen did you get back?\u201d Joe asked when he\u2019d regained his breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust now,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cGot home in time for supper.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe grinned. \u201cNow, there\u2019s a surprise. I don\u2019t suppose you let Hop Sing know so that he could fix about three times as much food?\u201d<\/p>\n

A burst of Chinese outrage sounded from below. \u201cI reckon he knows now,\u201d Hoss chuckled. His eyes grew serious. \u201cPa said you ran into a little trouble a couple weeks back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing much,\u201d said Joe. \u201cAt least, not for me. I got a whale of a headache and a couple of cracked ribs, but that\u2019s all. I don\u2019t even remember what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWas it a fugue?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shrugged. \u201cDon\u2019t know. Everybody keeps asking questions, and I don\u2019t recollect anything, but Doc seems to think that might be from getting hit over the head. Says the only way to know is if I remember something, but he doesn\u2019t know when that might be.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa says there\u2019s a feller in jail for killing the girl.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cElias Tucker. His brother was here this morning with\u2014\u201d Joe broke off.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Hoss prodded when he didn\u2019t continue.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna was here with him,\u201d Joe admitted. \u201cYou missed her by a few hours. She\u2019s representing Tucker.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss nodded just like his heart didn\u2019t burn at the mention of her name. \u201cFigures he\u2019d want the best.\u201d The words sounded as if they were being forced through a tiny opening. Anna had been here, in his house. If he\u2019d come home yesterday, he\u2019d have seen her. He looked away, willing himself not to care and not succeeding.<\/p>\n

Joe rested his hand on Hoss\u2019s arm. \u201cHow\u2019re you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m okay.\u201d He knew he didn\u2019t even sound close to convincing, but Joe nodded anyway.<\/p>\n

The brothers sat quietly for a spell, not talking and not needing to. Finally, Joe said, \u201cYou better get downstairs and let Hop Sing feed you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAin\u2019t you coming?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss chuckled. \u201cPa thinks you\u2019d feel better if you got something in your belly.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe rolled his eyes. \u201cThat\u2019s his solution to pretty much everything.\u201d Then his grin faded, his eyes darkening. \u201cI wish it worked,\u201d he said so quietly that Hoss could barely hear him. He bowed his head as though he could hide the sorrow that always seemed to be lurking just below the surface. The big man gripped Joe\u2019s hand and held tight, each drawing strength from the other.<\/p>\n

After a minute, Joe lifted his head. He swallowed hard and managed a small smile. \u201cJust don\u2019t be mad at Adam,\u201d he said. \u201cI told him not to say anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the\u2014how\u2019d you know?\u201d Hoss demanded.<\/p>\n

Joe snorted. \u201cIt was tough. Probably took\u2014oh, two, maybe three minutes to figure out.\u201d He squeezed Hoss\u2019s hand. \u201cI knew that there was no way you\u2019d go without leaving word how to get in touch\u2014just in case.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss nodded, grinning ruefully. He should have known. He let go of Joe and tried to sound casual. \u201cSo how many fugues you had since I been gone?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Joe shrugged. When Hoss didn\u2019t respond, he insisted, \u201cReally, I don\u2019t. It was going better before Eleanor Gunther died. That was why Adam let me go off on my own\u2014I hadn\u2019t had one in days. Since then\u2014maybe four or five.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the last two weeks?\u201d Hoss didn\u2019t bother to hide his dismay. \u201cPa didn\u2019t say anything about that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa doesn\u2019t know about most of them. He was there for one, but I\u2019ve spent most of my time up here in bed by myself. Nothing seems to happen\u2014I mean, I\u2019m not doing anything I shouldn\u2019t. It\u2019s just like\u2014well, one time, Hop Sing had brought up lunch, and he put the tray down and left, and the next thing I knew, the plate was empty and I didn\u2019t remember eating. Stuff like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about nightmares?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSince Eleanor died? A few times. Only woke up Pa and Adam once, though.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you ain\u2019t said nothing to Pa or the doc, have you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey didn\u2019t ask.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe held up his hand as if to ward off a brotherly smack. \u201cNo, really\u2014I think maybe it\u2019s just temporary, like getting hit might have stirred things up a little. I\u2019m sure it\u2019ll all settle down soon enough.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust the same, you tell Pa, or I\u2019m gonna.\u201d Hoss rose. \u201cNow, you get yourself downstairs for supper.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI already told you, I\u2019m not hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSuit yourself,\u201d Hoss said. \u201c\u2019Course, I don\u2019t know what I might end up saying. Somebody mentions a fugue, and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReckon the only way you\u2019re gonna know is if you come downstairs, ain\u2019t it?\u201d Hoss bent down to retrieve Joe\u2019s boots. \u201cLet\u2019s go before everything gets cold, \u2019cause that\u2019d probably put me in a real talkative mood.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDadburn you, Big Brother!\u201d Joe pulled on his boots and got himself off the bed, wincing only slightly. He turned down the lamp and followed Hoss out the door. Just before they reached the stairs, Hoss stopped. At Joe\u2019s questioning look, he forced the words out.<\/p>\n

\u201cWas she all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shrugged slightly. \u201cI couldn\u2019t tell,\u201d he admitted. \u201cAll she talked about was what I remembered from that day. Nothing else.\u201d Not you, Brother. I\u2019m sorry.<\/p>\n

Hoss nodded as though hearing the unspoken words. He turned as if to go downstairs, and then he turned back. \u201cHow did she look?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shook his head. \u201cSad.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Anna dipped her pen into the ink.\u00a0Dear Henry,<\/em>\u00a0she began. She read the words over and over as though they held some magical powers, but they remained nothing more than a salutation to her dearest friend back in Chicago.<\/p>\n

She sipped her tea and resumed writing. She asked after mutual friends in Chicago and reported on how Richard had settled into life in Virginia City. She inquired into Henry\u2019s latest doctor visits; ever since Hoss had arranged for him to meet with Dr. Marsh in Sacramento, Henry\u2019s fragile health had improved remarkably. Dr. Marsh had referred Henry to a specialist who had recently moved to Chicago, and Henry\u2019s latest letter recounted the specialist\u2019s hope that Henry might one day walk unassisted.<\/p>\n

Anna laid down her pen as she remembered Henry\u2019s arrival in Virginia City. She had just won her first case, and she had reconciled herself to the idea that, because of her trial strategy, she had lost any hope of winning Hoss\u2019s heart. And so, she had sat in the parlor with her uncle, the Cartwrights and her client and his mother, basking in her professional triumph, when the knock at the door had interrupted the conversation. She had opened it to see Henry in his wheelchair, with Hoss pushing him. Hoss had arranged to help Henry, whom he\u2019d never met, simply because he knew how much Henry meant to her. Because, he wanted to make her happy.<\/p>\n

She closed her eyes against the memory. What was done, was done. She hadn\u2019t heard from Hoss since that terrible stormy night. She hadn\u2019t seen him around town at all. Even Joe hadn\u2019t come to see her, although she\u2019d fully expected him on her doorstep the next morning, demanding an explanation. When a few days passed with no word from either Hoss or Joe, she\u2019d started to write Hoss a letter, but something stopped her. She hadn\u2019t done anything wrong that night, not a thing. If Hoss could so easily assume otherwise\u2014well, he was the one who owed her an apology, and not the other way around.<\/p>\n

She could only imagine what Hoss must have said to his family about what he\u2019d seen. Ben Cartwright, so upright and moral, would have been appalled. Adam and Joe would have been irate. No doubt, they\u2019d all told Hoss he was well rid of her.<\/p>\n

She laid down her pen. This morning\u2019s meeting had gone almost as she expected. If Ben Cartwright was a bit distant, he nonetheless remained gracious. Adam was civil, no less and no more. Joe had seemed nervous, but she understood: the last time she had questioned him about a murder, he had been the accused.<\/p>\n

And of Hoss, there had been no sign.<\/p>\n

Now, as she thought about it, the fact angered her. She would never have thought of Hoss as a coward. For him to go out of his way to be away from the house when she came\u2014well, that just wasn\u2019t the Hoss she knew. The man she loved would have had the backbone to face her, to say hello, to be courteous and civil. He would never have run away like this.<\/p>\n

She forced her attention back to the letter.\u00a0I\u2019ve taken on a new client who has been accused of murder,<\/em>\u00a0she wrote.\u00a0As it turns out, Joe Cartwright may be the only witness, and that only if he can recall what happened. My client\u2019s story makes no sense, and so his ability to avoid the noose is likely to turn on what, if anything, Joe can recall.<\/em><\/p>\n

She allowed her thoughts to wander back to that morning. Joe had seemed unusually tense, but she supposed that made sense. Hoss had told her that one of Joe\u2019s recurrent nightmares involved a young lady on the stagecoach who had been raped and murdered. The thought of witnessing the murder of another young girl would naturally be hard on him.<\/p>\n

She sighed. If she was interpreting Joe\u2019s reaction correctly, it corroborated the prosecutor\u2019s theory that Elias had beaten Joe and then choked Eleanor. The prosecutor insisted that Joe must have been attacked first, or else he\u2019d have rescued Eleanor. As to why Elias would have beaten Joe, the prosecutor opined that Joe must have happened upon him in the act of attacking Eleanor. As much as Anna hated to admit it, in the privacy of her own office, the theory made sense.<\/p>\n

More sense, anyway, than Elias Tucker\u2019s story. He claimed that he had been kissing Eleanor Gunther when a man rode up and ordered him to let her go. The man then pulled her from Elias\u2019s arms, and the two men fought briefly. Elias then mounted up and ran away, leaving the man behind with Eleanor, both of them alive and conscious.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did the man look like?\u201d she\u2019d asked.<\/p>\n

Elias shrugged. \u201cJust a man.\u201d On further probing, he revealed that the man had brown hair. He couldn\u2019t recall how tall he was or what color his eyes were, nor did he recollect what the man had been wearing. Nothing distinctive about his way of speaking. He didn\u2019t remember the man\u2019s horse. He had no idea whether the man was left-handed.<\/p>\n

If only there were a way to get Joe Cartwright to Virginia City, she mused. Even if Joe didn\u2019t remember Elias, Elias might remember Joe.<\/p>\n

And it always comes back to the Cartwrights,<\/em>\u00a0she reflected. She reread Henry\u2019s last letter. In his typically gracious manner, he\u2019d inquired after Hoss and his family, hinting ever so delicately that he was waiting for a particular announcement. She drew a deep breath and took up her pen.<\/p>\n

I do wish that I could tell you what you would so like to hear, but it does not appear that I\u2019m going to be able to do that,<\/em>\u00a0she wrote.\u00a0Ever since Joe\u2019s trial last fall, Hoss and I have tried to regain what we once had. Unfortunately, it appears that our efforts have failed. It is with a heavy heart that I write this, as I know how fondly you have cherished the dream that Hoss and I would marry. I, too, have longed for that day, and I struggle with the realization that it shall never be. Still, you needn\u2019t worry about me. I have a successful practice and good friends like you and Richard, and that is a great deal more than most unmarried women have. And no, dear Henry, Richard is only a friend, and I do not anticipate that he will ever be more. My heart has been given, and although Hoss appears not to want it any more, it remains his. I cannot give it to another.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

She laid down her pen and rested her head against the high back of the chair. It was over. The man she loved didn\u2019t want her. For the second time in her life, her profession had cost her dearly. . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long has it been going on?\u201d Her words were controlled and precise.<\/em><\/p>\n

Seth shrugged. \u201cSix, eight months. It doesn\u2019t matter. You were never here anyway. Whenever I wanted you, you were over at your father\u2019s office.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd that\u2019s your excuse? I was busy, and so it was all well and good for you to take up with Leeann Parker?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna, what did you think was going to happen? Did you think I was going to be content to come home night after night to an empty house, or to spend evenings watching you read law books and listening to you go on and on about your father\u2019s cases? I\u2019m a man, Anna. I want a wife who will be a wife and who will put me above her little hobbies.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Little hobbies\u2019? Is that what you think this is?\u201d Her eyes blazed for the first time since Seth had told her that their marriage was over. \u201cWithout a system of laws, our entire civilization would fall into chaos. We\u2019d be back to the medieval view of might equaling right, a world where no one would dare to speak freely for fear of the cost, where men could be falsely accused and no one could ever expose the lies so that innocent men would perish and wrongdoers would flourish. What we do\u2014my father and I, and others like us\u2014is to try, in some small way, to preserve the liberties that are supposed to be part of this great country by ensuring that justice is achieved for everyone. And if that\u2019s a \u2018little hobby,\u2019 then I daresay it\u2019s the most important little hobby any person could ever have.\u201d<\/p>\n

She stood before him, fists clenched, breath coming hard. He looked at her for a long minute. Then, he shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf only you could have been this passionate about our marriage,\u201d he said. \u201cNow, if you\u2019ll excuse me, I\u2019m going to pack a bag. I\u2019ll be at the Empire House tonight. Perhaps tomorrow, we can sit down and discuss how we\u2019re going to divide our possessions.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can have everything,\u201d she said, head held high. \u201cI don\u2019t want any of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seth smiled faintly. \u201cTalk to your father,\u201d he said. \u201cHe\u2019ll tell you not to be so foolish.\u201d With that, he turned, leaving her to watch as he climbed the stairs to their bedroom, returning a short time later with a valise. He regarded her soberly. When she said nothing, he tipped his hat as he might to a strange lady on the street. \u201cGoodbye, Anna,\u201d he said softly, and she watched as her husband left their home for the last time.<\/p>\n

Anna sipped her tea. It had gone quite cold, and she set the cup back in the saucer. She felt as though there was a great gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to be. Nothing could fill that void except that beautiful giant of a man whose heart had seemed big enough to hold her as well as her dreams.<\/p>\n

And yet, when all was said and done, it was clear that she\u2019d only held second place in his heart, coming after his family and especially after Joe. And that, more than her profession, had been their undoing.<\/p>\n

She should have seen it all along. From the very first time he\u2019d come to her office to see whether she was angry with Joe about comments he\u2019d made, to the way he\u2019d tended to his younger brother after the explosion in her office, to his constant protection of Joe through the trial and its aftermath. It occurred to her to wonder whether she and Hoss could have been happy if there had been no massacre, no murder, no fugues, or whether there would always have been some reason for Hoss to put Joe ahead of her.<\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t matter now. Hoss had made his choice. And perhaps she had no right to blame him. For her, being the best lawyer for Joe had been more important than how Hoss felt. It hadn\u2019t been just another case, of course, and part of her passion had derived from the fact that she was representing Hoss\u2019s little brother. Still, she couldn\u2019t deny that she had been far less concerned about Hoss\u2019s knowledge and approval of her trial strategies than she was about seeing that justice was done and an innocent man was kept from the gallows.<\/p>\n

She closed her eyes. Ironic that she and Hoss had the same flaw in their tendency to put their passions ahead of all else. In Hoss\u2019s case, it was his family; in Anna\u2019s case, it was her profession.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she whispered. Hoss wasn\u2019t second to anyone or anything in her heart. And she wouldn\u2019t have been willing to come second to anything in his\u2014if only she\u2019d had the choice.<\/p>\n

The slight movement at her elbow made her jump. \u201cVery sorry, Missy,\u201d said Jiang Xi softly as she removed the teacup. \u201cJiang Xi make Missy more tea?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna took a deep breath, trying to force back her tears. \u201cNo, thank you,\u201d she said. \u201cI think I\u2019m going to go to bed. Good night, Jiang Xi.\u201d She would finish Henry\u2019s letter in the morning.<\/p>\n

The young Chinese girl stood silently for a moment. Then, feather-light, she rested her hand on Anna\u2019s. Anna met her gaze, and for a moment, both women\u2019s eyes brimmed with tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d Anna whispered. Jiang Xi gave her hand the lightest of squeezes as she bowed, and as Anna watched her retreat, tears spilled down the lady lawyer\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

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

Joe sat bolt upright in the darkness, his chest heaving. He trembled with icy fear as he tried to catch his breath. He groped for the matches on the night table, but his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn\u2019t grasp them.<\/p>\n

The door opened, and Pa came in, carrying a lamp. \u201cAre you all right, son?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. \u201cI\u2019m okay,\u201d he managed.<\/p>\n

Pa set the lamp on the night table and sat down next to him. \u201cDo you want to talk about it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe thought about the dream. It had been different from any of the others, but he couldn\u2019t quite say how. The stagecoach, the Indians, the massacre\u2014all these had been the same. But there was something new this time. There were more people on the stagecoach. A skinny little girl with pigtails and freckles. A tall man with brown hair. Anna. And there had been something else slithering around their feet.<\/p>\n

With a start, he realized that Pa was waiting for an answer. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t think so,\u201d he said. He didn\u2019t want to alarm Pa with the notion that something was changing until he knew what was happening. \u201cI\u2019m okay, really. I\u2019m just going to go back to sleep now.\u201d To prove it, he lay back and pulled the covers up to his shoulders.<\/p>\n

Pa looked dubious, but he merely rested his hand on Joe\u2019s shoulder. \u201cIf you\u2019re sure,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure,\u201d said Joe. He bade Pa a good night and watched as the door closed. Then, he closed his eyes as though he could see the scene again, but he saw only darkness.<\/p>\n

As he slipped back into sleep, one thought surfaced in his brain.<\/p>\n

Anna\u2019s in danger.<\/em><\/p>\n

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

The knock made her jump. She looked up to see Marcus Tucker entering her office uninvited. Anna lay down her pen. \u201cMay I help you?\u201d It had been a long day, and with the Tucker trial barely two weeks away, there was no break in sight.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d like to talk to you,\u201d said Tucker. Something in his voice sent a chill down her spine, but she maintained a calm demeanor as she waved him to a chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat can I do for you?\u201d she asked when he didn\u2019t continue.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been thinking about your friend, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d said Tucker. For a moment, Anna\u2019s heart leapt. In the next instant, though, she realized that he meant Joe, not Hoss. Tucker continued, \u201cCan we trust that if he hasn\u2019t remembered by now, he\u2019s not going to?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said Anna. \u201cAs he said the other day, if it was a fugue episode, he won\u2019t be recalling anything. The doctor did say, though, that if it was a result of simply being hit on the head, the memory could come back at any time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, he could be sitting on the witness stand and have a sudden return of his memory?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPossibly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat would be unfortunate,\u201d said Tucker, half to himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know what you mean,\u201d said Anna carefully.<\/p>\n

Tucker leaned forward. \u201cMiss Simmons, let\u2019s not play games,\u201d he said. \u201cYou and I both know that my brother stands a better chance of acquittal if young Mr. Cartwright remains ignorant.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know any such thing,\u201d said Anna. She kept her voice steady only with effort.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Simmons, you\u2019ve heard my brother\u2019s story. As you sit here now, what do you think the chances are that a jury will believe him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Tucker, if there\u2019s one thing I\u2019ve learned over the years, it\u2019s that there is no predicting what a jury will choose to believe. I\u2019ve seen rock-solid cases lose, and I\u2019ve seen long-shots win. Why a jury does what it does is one of the great mysteries of the law, and any guess I make will be precisely that\u2014a guess.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFair enough,\u201d said Tucker. \u201cLet me ask you this, then: if my brother tells his story, and Joe Cartwright tells his, which one do you think a jury will believe?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cConsidering that Joe Cartwright\u2019s testimony is that he doesn\u2019t recall anything that happened, I can see a jury believing both of them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Simmons, my brother\u2019s life is at stake, and I\u2019ll thank you to take that seriously.\u201d For a moment, something flared in Tucker\u2019s pale eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Tucker, there is nothing I take more seriously,\u201d she said. \u201cHowever, I still don\u2019t understand what you\u2019re suggesting. Since I have a great deal of work to do, including your brother\u2019s trial to prepare, I would ask that you state your concern plainly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlainly,\u201d Tucker repeated. \u201cAll right, then. Would it be in my brother\u2019s best interests if Joe Cartwright were to be\u2014unavailable<\/em>\u00a0to testify? If he were to be\u2014well, called away suddenly, for example?\u201d he added, and she knew she\u2019d failed to conceal her shock at the implication.<\/p>\n

Her stomach lurched, but her voice remained emotionless. \u201cAbsolutely not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd why is that?\u201d The challenge in the words was subtle, but definitely present.<\/p>\n

She swallowed hard. \u201cBecause if anything were to happen\u2014anything at all\u2014which prevented him from testifying, the jury could easily infer that he was kept away deliberately, and they could draw a further inference that he was kept away because his testimony would have been harmful to your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWouldn\u2019t there have to be proof of that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot directly. The judge can instruct the jury under certain circumstances that it may draw inferences based upon things like a failure to call a witness whom a party would normally be expected to call. Since Joe Cartwright is the only person known to be present at the scene, the jury will expect one side or the other to call him. If he is \u2018unavailable,\u2019 the prosecutor can ask that the jury be instructed that it can draw an inference that he was prevented from testifying because his testimony would have been harmful to our case.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker sat back, stroking his chin. \u201cSo, you feel we have a better chance if young Cartwright takes the stand and repeats what he said at his house the other day?\u201d<\/p>\n

Fine. If she had to work from this side, she\u2019d do it. \u201cAbsolutely,\u201d she said. \u201cIf he takes the stand, we appear to be forthcoming and the jury can feel comfortable that we\u2019re not hiding anything. If he doesn\u2019t testify, the only facts before them will be that Eleanor Gunther was strangled, your brother was kissing her just before she died, and he was captured while fleeing from the scene of her death. On that evidence, your brother will almost certainly hang.\u201d She held his gaze steadily throughout this speech, daring him to disagree.<\/p>\n

After a long minute, Tucker looked away. He busied himself lighting a cigar and puffing. \u201cYou\u2019re quite fond of young Cartwright, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a friend of mine,\u201d Anna conceded.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you capable of doing whatever needs to be done when he testifies?\u201d At her slight frown, he stated, \u201cYou won\u2019t be gentle with him just because he\u2019s your friend, correct?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course not,\u201d she said. \u201cI have a client to represent. Whether I know a witness does not interfere with that. If it did, I\u2019d have great difficulty in representing anyone, because I know half the people in this town.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker nodded, puffing on his cigar. \u201cI want my brother acquitted, Miss Simmons,\u201d he said after a long pause.<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I want you to use every means at your disposal to get him acquitted.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will do everything within the scope of my professional and ethical responsibilities,\u201d said Anna.<\/p>\n

Tucker nodded his understanding. \u201cThen I shall let you work,\u201d he said, rising. \u201cJust remember one thing, Miss Simmons. It is in everyone\u2019s best interests for my brother to avoid the noose.\u201d<\/p>\n

He was out the door before she could catch her breath.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cAbsolutely not,\u201d said the doctor. He dropped his stethoscope into his bag and closed it to signal that the conversation was finished.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I have to!\u201d Joe started to sit up, and the doctor reached over to push him back against the pillow.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat you have to do, young man, is to stay quiet and rest,\u201d said the doctor. He looked from Joe to Ben, and then from Ben to Adam and Hoss. \u201cIf I\u2019d known Joe was experiencing increased fugue episodes, I would never have let him get up. Now I\u2019m telling all of you so that there is no question. Under no circumstances is Little Joe to be up out of that bed until I say so. Is that understood?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, Paul\u2014Joe may be the only one who can say whether Elias Tucker was present when that girl died,\u201d said Ben. \u201cIsn\u2019t there some way we can get him into town so that he can at least see whether he recognizes Tucker, or whether Tucker recognizes him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbsolutely not,\u201d Doc said again. \u201cI\u2019m not sure you all understand what\u2019s happening here. We knew from the start that Joe had a serious concussion, and that was bad enough, but now\u2014if it\u2019s affecting matters like whether he\u2019s present or in a fugue, then it\u2019s even more serious than I realized before, and that means that it\u2019s of paramount importance that he remain as quiet as possible.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if we took him in a buggy?\u201d suggested Hoss. \u201cOr even a buckboard so\u2019s he could lie down.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not lying in the back of a buckboard!\u201d Joe protested.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not going anywhere,\u201d said the doctor. To Hoss, he said, \u201cEven in a buggy, the trip into town is a good two hours, and this time of year, it\u2019s a pretty rough trip with all those ruts. Even if Joe had the stamina for a trip like that\u2014which, by the way, he clearly doesn\u2019t\u2014the risks of further injury from getting bounced around are serious enough that I just can\u2019t allow it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut what if I might remember? Isn\u2019t it worth it if I can save an innocent man from hanging?\u201d Joe started to sit up, and this time, it was his father who pushed him back.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, I admire what you\u2019re trying to do, but you don\u2019t seem to understand,\u201d said the doctor. \u201cThis isn\u2019t a bump on the head from a saloon fight. I don\u2019t know what you were hit with, but it wasn\u2019t a fist. It could have been a rock or a gun. Whatever it was, the person who hit you wasn\u2019t just trying to knock you out. A blow like that is intended to kill a man. The fact that you survived at all is a testament to your hard skull, but it\u2019s clear from what you\u2019ve told me today that you\u2019re not healing as fast as we all thought.\u201d He looked at each of the Cartwrights as he continued, \u201cI\u2019ve seen men who thought they were recovering from an injury even less severe than this, and they get one more blow to the head\u2014nothing terribly rough\u2014and it\u2019s enough to finish them off. I\u2019m not going to let that happen to you. You\u2019re going to stay right where you are until I say otherwise, and then you\u2019re going to start very, very slowly. Realistically, I don\u2019t expect you to be out of this bed for at least two or three weeks\u2014longer if the fugues don\u2019t ease up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd by then, Elias Tucker\u2019s liable to be on Boot Hill,\u201d said Joe bitterly. \u201cAnd the real killer will be laughing his fool head off.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re assuming that Elias Tucker is innocent,\u201d Adam pointed out. \u201cIf he\u2019s the one who hit you and choked Eleanor, he\u2019ll probably be just as happy if you never recognize him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you shut up!\u201d Joe snapped.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d His father\u2019s reprimand made no allowance for frustration, however well-earned. Joe lifted his hand\u2014sorry, brother<\/em>\u2014and Adam waved him off\u2014don\u2019t worry about it.<\/em>\u00a0It was a scene the two had played out a thousand times, and they knew each other\u2019s lines.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, there is one other option,\u201d Adam said after a minute. \u201cWe could get somebody to draw a picture of Tucker, and you could see whether you recognize it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSee, Little Brother? That\u2019s why we keep ol\u2019 Adam around\u2014\u2019cause he thinks of this stuff.\u201d Hoss beamed in encouragement.<\/p>\n

\u201cI knew there had to be a reason,\u201d Joe allowed.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, shut up,\u201d said Adam.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa!\u201d Joe protested in mock indignation.<\/p>\n

Ben ignored him. \u201cAnd if this person draws a picture of Joe, Tucker can see whether he recognizes him even if Joe doesn\u2019t recall Tucker.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut who would be able to draw like that?\u201d asked Hoss.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe one of the fellows who does those sketches for\u00a0The Territorial Enterprise,<\/em>\u201d Adam suggested. \u201cI think there are two or three of them. I\u2019m sure one of them would be willing to help.\u201d<\/p>\n

The doctor regarded Joe, his lips pursed in obvious disapproval at the notion. \u201cAs long as Joe isn\u2019t out of this bed, and as long as this person doesn\u2019t keep him up too long, I suppose it\u2019s all right,\u201d he conceded. \u201cBut if Joe starts to get tired, the artist is going to have to stop.\u201d He pursed his lips, considering his patient. \u201cSpeaking of which, it\u2019s time to let Joe get some rest. Let\u2019s go downstairs and talk about this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not tired!\u201d Joe protested, but nobody was paying attention. He watched as his family and the doctor made their way out the door, and the doctor closed it behind him.<\/p>\n

Ridiculous. Outrageous. Unbelievable. He reached for the note that had precipitated this whole matter:<\/p>\n

Dear Joe,<\/em><\/p>\n

Would it be possible for you to come into town and meet with Elias Tucker? Even if you don\u2019t recall him, it would help to know whether he might remember you.<\/p>\n

Please let me know when you will next be in town so that we can plan to meet. Thank you.<\/p>\n

Anna<\/p>\n

Joe considered the question.\u00a0When will I next be in town?<\/em>\u00a0he thought.\u00a0From the looks of things, when pigs fly.<\/em>\u00a0He crumpled the note in his fist and closed his eyes, trying to block out a world that was getting smaller all the time.<\/p>\n

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

Marcus drummed his fingers on his knee. \u201cHow much longer is he going to be?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna looked up briefly from the paper in front of her. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d she said. \u201cWe agreed to meet at nine. I don\u2019t know where he is.\u201d She returned her attention to the document, crossing out a line and making a note in the margin.<\/p>\n

Moments later, they heard the street door open. A gruff voice answered Richard\u2019s greeting, and moments later, Richard led in a man who was nearly as tall as he. Marcus forced himself not to scowl as he studied the man. Ironic: this one could have been Elias\u2019s brother. Tall, dark eyes, thick hair, full lips. The gray hat and dark red coat accentuated his coloring, just as one might expect from an artist. No scar, of course, and the features were craggier, but he fit in Elias\u2019s family far better than Marcus did.<\/p>\n

Anna had risen and extended her hand. \u201cThank you for coming, Mr. Phelps,\u201d she said. \u201cThis is Marcus Tucker. Marcus, this is Mr. Tim Phelps from\u00a0The Territorial Enterprise.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow d\u2019you do,\u201d mumbled Phelps.<\/p>\n

Anna invited them to sit down. As she did the same, she said, \u201cMr. Phelps, as you know, we\u2019ve asked you to help out in an unusual circumstance. We have a witness who can\u2019t come into town, and an accused man who can\u2019t leave the jail, and we need to know whether either of them recognizes the other. So, what we\u2019ve asked you to do is to draw pictures of each of the men and show them to each other. Is this something you can do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes\u2019m,\u201d said Phelps.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Phelps, how long have you worked for\u00a0The Territorial Enterprise<\/em>\u00a0as an artist?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlmost a year, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long will it take you to make these pictures?\u201d<\/p>\n

Phelps shrugged. \u201cDepends what you want. I can make a good drawing in half an hour.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna nodded as though this comported with what she expected. Marcus turned to the man. \u201cHave you ever done anything like this before?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDraw pictures, you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

God in heaven, the man even sounded like Elias. \u201cDraw pictures under these circumstances,\u201d Marcus clarified, trying to suppress his impatience.<\/p>\n

The man shrugged. \u201cLong as the fellow isn\u2019t running or something, it\u2019s all pretty much the same. These fellows won\u2019t be moving, will they?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d said Anna. \u201cOne can\u2019t get out of bed, and the other is in a jail cell.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen I can do it just fine,\u201d said Phelps. \u201cI been drawing pictures since I was old enough to hold a pencil. It\u2019s all I ever did for work, and I never starved.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much do you charge for this work?\u201d Marcus asked.<\/p>\n

Phelps looked from Marcus to Anna. For the first time, Marcus detected a glint of shrewdness in the man\u2019s eyes. \u201cTen dollars,\u201d he said. \u201cFor each picture.\u201d<\/p>\n

So much for shrewdness,<\/em>\u00a0Marcus reflected. With a man\u2019s life at stake, he should have said a hundred. \u201cYou\u2019re hired,\u201d he said, rising. \u201cShall we go?\u201d He noted with satisfaction that Anna looked discomfited at the way he was taking charge.<\/p>\n

\u201cFine,\u201d she said, also rising.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, you don\u2019t need to come along, Miss Simmons,\u201d said Marcus. \u201cI can see that you have a lot to do. I can take Mr. Phelps over to the jail.\u201d He hid a smile as she cast a longing look at the papers on her desk.<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps Mr. Palmer can go with you,\u201d she suggested, but Marcus waved her off.<\/p>\n

\u201cNonsense,\u201d he said. \u201cThere\u2019s no reason to trouble Mr. Palmer. I\u2019ll take Mr. Phelps over to the jail and introduce him to Elias, and then he can go out to the Ponderosa to draw Mr. Cartwright. In fact,\u201d he added with a broad smile, \u201cI imagine that somewhere in there, we can even find you some lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sounds fine,\u201d said Phelps. \u201cPleasure to meet you, ma\u2019am.\u201d He ambled out the door, and Marcus turned back.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you worry about a thing, Miss Simmons,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ll take care of Mr. Phelps.\u201d He put on his hat and headed out before she could respond.<\/p>\n

On the street, he asked Phelps, \u201cSo, what do you know about this case?\u201d<\/p>\n

Phelps grunted. \u201cFellow in jail killed a girl.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus forced himself not to bristle. \u201cThe fellow in jail is accused of killing her,\u201d he said. \u201cBut he says he didn\u2019t do it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoes he say who did?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Marcus admitted. \u201cBut he doesn\u2019t need to. All he needs to do is establish a reasonable doubt, as they say in the law.\u201d<\/p>\n

Phelps grunted, clearly unimpressed by Marcus\u2019s knowledge of the law. \u201cIf he can\u2019t say who did it, why should anybody believe he didn\u2019t?\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus held himself in check with effort. \u201cBecause that\u2019s not the way the law works,\u201d he said. \u201cIf I accused you of killing her, that wouldn\u2019t mean you\u2019d have to go out and find the real killer. It would be enough to prove you were nowhere near the area when she died.\u201d<\/p>\n

Phelps stopped so abruptly that Marcus nearly ran into him. The tall man\u2019s fists clenched as he stepped forward, the heat of his glare ferocious. \u201cI didn\u2019t kill her, and don\u2019t you say I did!\u201d<\/p>\n

Involuntarily, Marcus stepped back. \u201cSorry, friend, it was just an example,\u201d he said. \u201cDidn\u2019t mean any offense by it.\u201d When Phelps didn\u2019t move, he said, \u201cI apologize. I didn\u2019t mean to suggest that you ever killed anyone\u2014but that\u2019s how my brother feels, too. You can help him by drawing these pictures. Then, when Joe Cartwright sees the picture and says he never saw my brother, you\u2019ll be keeping an innocent man from hanging.\u201d<\/p>\n

Phelps studied him for a long minute. Without a word, he turned abruptly and headed down the street toward the jail. Marcus hustled to catch up, and neither spoke again until they had entered the sheriff\u2019s office.<\/p>\n

\u201cSheriff, we\u2019re here to see my brother,\u201d Marcus announced.<\/p>\n

Sheriff Coffee looked unimpressed. \u201cWho\u2019s this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Phelps,\u201d said Marcus. \u201cHe\u2019s visiting Elias with me.\u201d He willed the man not to offer any further information. He wasn\u2019t sure why he didn\u2019t want the sheriff to know about the drawings, but until he figured it out, he preferred to keep the various parts of his brother\u2019s defense very quiet.<\/p>\n

\u201cHowdy, Mr. Phelps,\u201d said the sheriff. If he\u2019d ever seen the man before, he gave no sign. He just nodded toward the door separating the office from the cells. \u201cGo ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus opened the door and led the way into the cell area. He closed the door firmly behind Phelps. \u201cMorning, Elias,\u201d he said loudly.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh? Oh, hey, Marcus.\u201d Elias sat up on the bunk, yawning. \u201cI was wondering where you were.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re here,\u201d said Marcus. \u201cThis is Mr. Phelps. He\u2019s the one who\u2019s going to draw your picture.\u201d The men grunted at each other, and Marcus added, \u201cI\u2019ll get Mr. Phelps a chair.\u201d He retreated into the outer office and commandeered a chair, dragging it back to the cell and again closing the door firmly. Let the sheriff wonder.<\/p>\n

He returned to the cell area to see the two men regarding each other. It wasn\u2019t as though they were looking in a mirror, but the similarities were striking nonetheless. He watched them for a moment, considering. Then, he said, \u201cHere\u2019s your chair, Mr. Phelps. Elias, this man is going to draw a picture of you.\u201d He positioned the chair in front of the cell. \u201cElias, stand so that your right side is facing us.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, Marcus\u2014\u201d Elias began.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust do as I say,\u201d said Marcus. \u201cOh, and Elias\u2014you were wearing a hat that day, weren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmmm. Mr. Phelps, how about we put your hat on my brother? Then, you\u2019ll have a better idea of how he looked on the day in question.\u201d Without waiting for an answer, Marcus took Phelps\u2019s hat and shoved it between the bars. \u201cYou were wearing a jacket, too, weren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Again, Elias began, \u201cYeah, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine. Mr. Phelps, do you mind?\u201d He was already helping Phelps off with his jacket before the man could answer. Mere moments later, Elias Tucker stood in his cell, wearing Phelps\u2019s gray slouch hat and dark red coat, the unscarred side of his face turned to the artist. In a low voice, Marcus said to Phelps, \u201cMy brother hasn\u2019t shaved since he was arrested, but he was probably pretty clean shaven that day, so you\u2019ll want to leave out the stubble.\u201d He allowed himself a quick once-over of Phelps, adding, \u201cAnd he needs a haircut, so you\u2019ll want to make his hair a little shorter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Tucker, I know how to draw,\u201d said Phelps as he began to sketch.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy apologies,\u201d said Marcus hastily. In an even lower voice, he said, \u201cPlease try to understand. If my brother\u2014doesn\u2019t win, your drawing will be the last image I have of Elias, so it\u2019s very important to me.\u201d He allowed that thought to linger for a moment before he added, \u201cTo me, this is a twenty-dollar picture.\u201d He was gratified to see Phelps\u2019s hand pause. Then, with the slightest glance at Marcus, Phelps began to sketch the dark-haired man in the strange hat and coat.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cOver here, Mistah Cahtlight,\u201d called Hop Sing.<\/p>\n

Groaning, Ben lifted the crate of jars and hauled it over to the steps. Why Hop Sing had decided that today was the day he needed to bring up all those vegetables he\u2019d preserved last fall was a mystery, but Ben had learned long ago not to argue. If only the little Chinese man had had this thought before breakfast, he could have kept Adam and Hoss back to help with this task instead.<\/p>\n

He hauled the crate up the stairs from the root cellar and across the small clearing to the back entrance to the kitchen. He lifted his head briefly at the sound of hooves. Leaving, not arriving. He sighed; probably just one of the hands who\u2019d come back for something. No visitor to spare him this task. He set the crate next to the others by the table in the kitchen and headed back to the root cellar for the next one.<\/p>\n

Eventually, Hop Sing surveyed the crates like a general studying the map of battle. \u201cHop Sing make vegetable beef soup for Li\u2019l Joe,\u201d the little man announced.<\/p>\n

\u201cFine,\u201d said Ben, not really caring. He took a minute to wash off the dirt from the root cellar, and then he poured himself a cup of coffee and took it over to his desk, where he settled in to deal with his correspondence.<\/p>\n

More than an hour passed before he rose and stretched. Nothing like a nice, quiet morning to let a man get his work done. He drained his cup as Hop Sing crossed the room with Joe\u2019s lunch tray, the aroma wafting over to him. Hopefully, the good soup would improve Joe\u2019s temperament.<\/p>\n

It had been three days since the doctor\u2019s pronouncement, and Joe\u2019s mood had steadily deteriorated. He\u2019d tried everything imaginable to convince them that they should let him get up and go to town to see Elias Tucker, and when his family had been steadfast, he\u2019d argued until they just couldn\u2019t stand it any more and had walked out, closing the door behind them. Even the reassurance that the artist from the newspaper was going to bring the sketch seemed to be small comfort. \u201cWhat if he\u2019s a lousy artist?\u201d Joe demanded. \u201cWhat if the picture doesn\u2019t even look like the guy in jail?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you really think Marcus Tucker is going to let that happen?\u201d asked Adam. \u201cThat guy is probably going to be hanging over the artist\u2019s shoulder, quibbling about every little detail.\u201d The others nodded, but Joe remained unconvinced.<\/p>\n

\u201cMistah Cahtlight!\u201d<\/p>\n

A father learns early on which of his child\u2019s cries are serious and which are simply calls for attention. Likewise, Ben had learned long ago when calls from their worthy were to be taken seriously and when Hop Sing was merely displeased with some minor state of affairs.<\/p>\n

This call was serious.<\/p>\n

Ben was on his feet before Hop Sing appeared at the top of the stairs. \u201cWhat is it?\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n

\u201cLi\u2019l Joe gone!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat!\u201d Ben bounded up the stairs at a pace one might reasonably have assumed to be years behind him. He ran down the hall and stopped dead in his son\u2019s doorway.<\/p>\n

The bed was empty. The covers had been pushed back to the foot. Joe\u2019s boots, which had been set neatly in the corner next to the bureau, were missing.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d he thundered, even though he knew full well that there was no one except Hop Sing to hear him.<\/p>\n

He pounded down the stairs, Hop Sing on his heels. \u201cYou stay here in case he comes back,\u201d Ben instructed as he pulled on his gun belt. \u201cIf Hoss and Adam get back, tell them Joe\u2019s missing. Tell them I think he probably went to town, and I\u2019m heading that way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat Hop Sing do if Li\u2019l Joe come back before Mistah Cahtlight back?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben bit back a sharp retort. \u201cKeep him here.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

The hired bay trotted merrily along the Virginia City road. The occupants of the buggy were far less light-hearted.<\/p>\n

Marcus Tucker cast occasional sidewise glances at the artist. The man hadn\u2019t said ten words since he\u2019d started sketching Elias. Not that the lack of conversation was a problem, because Marcus was well-pleased with the finished drawing. Folded neatly into the inside pocket of his greatcoat, the sketch depicted an attractive man in unfamiliar clothes who, as it happened, looked more like the artist himself than like the scarred suspect.<\/p>\n

He reined in the horse as a rider on a pinto rode straight toward them. The rider veered off the road to go around them, but other than that, he didn\u2019t acknowledge them.<\/p>\n

\u201cMust be in an all-fired hurry,\u201d muttered Marcus. He waited for Phelps to comment, but the man was silent. Marcus clucked to the horse, and the buggy started up with a jerk.<\/p>\n

They were nearing the turnoff for the house when another rider approached. Like the first, this one was riding hellbent for leather. The man on the buckskin had drawn the brim of his hat low over his eyes, and he bent over the horse\u2019s neck as they thundered past the buggy.<\/p>\n

\u201cWatch where you\u2019re going!\u201d Marcus shouted after him, but the rider gave no sign that he\u2019d heard. Well, he\u2019d certainly let Ben Cartwright know how his ranch hands were riding. If a couple of them lost their jobs for being so reckless and endangering decent folks\u2014well, it wasn\u2019t any more than they deserved.<\/p>\n

It took longer than Marcus had recalled to reach the house from the Virginia City road, but eventually, they drove into the yard of the big house. He allowed himself the briefest moment of uneasiness before he climbed down and beckoned for Phelps to follow. He straightened his vest and coat and marched up to the door, where he let the heavy knocker fall with a resounding\u00a0clong.<\/em><\/p>\n

Almost at once, the small Chinese man opened the door. For an instant, he looked disappointed, but he recovered himself. \u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m Marcus Tucker,\u201d said Marcus. \u201cThis is Mr. Phelps. The artist,\u201d he added when the little man\u2019s expression didn\u2019t change. \u201cWe\u2019re here to see Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Chinese man looked from one to the other. \u201cCome in,\u201d he said. \u201cYou like coffee?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, thank you,\u201d Marcus answered for both of them. He drew the paper from his pocket and handed it to the Chinese man. \u201cThis is the drawing Mr. Phelps made of my brother. Now, he\u2019s going to make a drawing of Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

The little man frowned. \u201cYou sit down,\u201d he said. \u201cHop Sing bring coffee.\u201d He trotted out to the kitchen, still holding the drawing.<\/p>\n

Marcus shrugged and sat on the settee. Phelps shifted from one foot to another, almost as if waiting for further instruction. Eventually, when Marcus ignored him, the tall man perched on a blue velvet chair over by the stairs. Marcus was mildly amused to note that Phelps looked mighty uncomfortable, almost as though he thought someone was going to yell at him for sitting there.<\/p>\n

The coffee seemed to be taking an awfully long time. Marcus was on the verge of calling for the little man when the front door opened and two men walked in. The dark-haired one was Joe Cartwright\u2019s brother\u2014he couldn\u2019t recall the man\u2019s name\u2014but the large one was a stranger.<\/p>\n

At last.<\/em>\u00a0\u201cMr. Cartwright,\u201d he said, more to get their attention than anything else. Both men turned to face him, and the dark man nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Tucker,\u201d he said, approaching with his hand extended. \u201cThis is my brother, Hoss. Hoss, this is Marcus Tucker.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss Cartwright didn\u2019t seem to need any more information. He shook Marcus\u2019s hand and said, \u201cPleased to meet you,\u201d even though it was clear he didn\u2019t care in the slightest whether he met Marcus or not.<\/p>\n

Before Marcus could introduce the artist, the Chinese man ran in from the kitchen\u2014without the coffee. If the man worked for him, he\u2019d have been fired by now.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the matter, Hop Sing?\u201d The big man\u2019s face scrunched with sudden worry.<\/p>\n

The Chinese man glanced at the visitors. \u201cCome in kitchen,\u201d he said, tugging at the big man\u2019s sleeve. The Cartwright brothers followed the Chinese man into the kitchen. Moments later, they ran back out, grabbing the hats they\u2019d just hung on the peg rack by the door.<\/p>\n

Adam Cartwright paused at the door as if remembering the visitors. \u201cThere\u2019s a problem,\u201d he said. \u201cMy brother, Joe, isn\u2019t here. Perhaps you should go back to town, and we\u2019ll let you know when you can come out here and do the sketch.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t here? What do you mean, he isn\u2019t here? The lawyer said he couldn\u2019t get out of bed!\u201d A red flush of anger suffused Marcus\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe ain\u2019t supposed to,\u201d said the big man. \u201cIt could be real bad for him. We\u2019ll let you know when we find him. Come on, Adam.\u201d He headed out the door without waiting for an answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry for the inconvenience,\u201d said Adam Cartwright, not sounding at all sorry as he followed his brother out the door. Moments later, they heard horses racing out of the yard.<\/p>\n

Marcus stared at the still-open door.\u00a0He can\u2019t get out of bed,<\/em>\u00a0Anna Simmons had told him. Obviously, that wasn\u2019t true. Who did these Cartwrights think they were, anyway? Lying when a man\u2019s life was at stake\u2014what was wrong with them? And why on earth did that lady lawyer, who supposedly knew the family, believe them?<\/p>\n

Unless she was in on the lie, too.<\/p>\n

Of course. It all made sense. He\u2019d heard that she had been courted by one of the Cartwright brothers. The dark-haired one, probably\u2014the young one was too young, and the large one wasn\u2019t nearly handsome enough for a woman like that. There was a rumor that she\u2019d discarded Cartwright in favor of the man who worked in her office, but Marcus hadn\u2019t paid much attention to such nonsense. Clearly, though, she still had some connection to the family if she was willing to lie for them.<\/p>\n

But how was she benefiting from this conspiracy? Was the family paying her to go along with their story? Or was she paying them? This witness, Joe Cartwright\u2014he was the only one who could state positively that Elias had killed that girl. Somehow, his little bump on the head had become so serious that he couldn\u2019t get out of bed\u2014which meant that he couldn\u2019t come to the trial and testify.<\/p>\n

And now suddenly, he\u2019d vanished.<\/p>\n

A smile spread over Marcus\u2019s face. She must have thought again about her strategy after their conversation. Perhaps she\u2019d decided that it would indeed be better if Joe Cartwright didn\u2019t testify.<\/p>\n

Except . . . what were the drawings about, then? If Cartwright identified Elias from the drawing, what did it matter if he came to trial or not? Not that Cartwright could ever identify Elias from the sketch Phelps had done; this, at least, Marcus had done properly. If he\u2019d left it up to the lawyer, she\u2019d probably have had Phelps include the scar, and Cartwright would have known Elias instantly.<\/p>\n

\u201cCoffee, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

The little Chinese man was standing in front of him with a tray bearing a coffee pot and cups and saucers. Marcus couldn\u2019t have said how, but somehow he knew that the man had been standing there for several minutes, waiting for him.<\/p>\n

He shook his head as if to clear it. \u201cWe need to get back to town,\u201d he said. \u201cLet\u2019s go, Phelps.\u201d He brushed past the little man and headed out the door, barely noticing that the sky was clouding over.<\/p>\n

He and the lawyer needed to have a talk.<\/p>\n

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

Roy Coffee was in the privy when he first heard the yelling. He couldn\u2019t make out the words, but it sounded like it might be coming from inside his own jail. There was nothing there for the prisoner to yell about, though\u2014leastwise, not unless the girl\u2019s family had decided to take matters into their own hands.<\/p>\n

He did his best to hasten matters along, muttering about what things were coming to when a man couldn\u2019t even get a minute\u2019s peace to tend to his business. Still buttoning his trousers, he barreled out of the privy and into the back door of his office.<\/p>\n

The words were clearer now: \u201cWhat are you staring at? Stop looking at me! Get out of here! Stop staring at me!\u201d<\/p>\n

What the devil. . . ?<\/em>\u00a0Roy burst through the door from the office into the cell area and stopped in his tracks.<\/p>\n

The prisoner was at the bars, screaming and flailing, straining to reach through the bars as though he would choke anyone within reach. His face was red with agitation, and he didn\u2019t even seem to notice Roy as he continued yelling, \u201cGet out of here! Leave me alone!\u201d<\/p>\n

But that wasn\u2019t what had stunned Roy. What caught the lawman completely off-guard was the visitor.<\/p>\n

Little Joe Cartwright stood in front of the cell, just out of Tucker\u2019s reach. He seemed utterly unfazed by the reaction he was causing. He wasn\u2019t speaking, wasn\u2019t moving, wasn\u2019t doing anything at all. He just stood before the cell like the prisoner was one of those mangy, toothless tigers that you sometimes saw caged up in those traveling circuses.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, now, Tucker, you jest settle down,\u201d said Roy. \u201cAn\u2019 Little Joe, you come on out of there!\u201d<\/p>\n

But it was as though he hadn\u2019t spoken at all. Tucker continued to scream, and Joe didn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n

\u201cTucker, I told you to settle down!\u201d Roy snapped. \u201cAin\u2019t nobody staring at you! Little Joe, you jest leave him be.\u201d No acknowledgement from either. Roy was about to yell at both of them again when the truth dawned on him. \u201cYou jest hush,\u201d he told Tucker. Tentatively, he rested a hand on Joe\u2019s shoulder. \u201cJoe, you need to come with me,\u201d he said. Joe didn\u2019t move. Roy tried to recall how he\u2019d seen Ben and the boys handle Joe last fall when he\u2019d have fugues while he was in jail waiting for his own trial. With a gentleness few would have associated with the sheriff, he took Joe\u2019s arm and said, \u201cYou gotta come with me, Little Joe. Come on, now, you gotta come with me.\u201d<\/p>\n

To his vast relief, Joe didn\u2019t fight him. He didn\u2019t seem like he was going to move at first, and then, all of a sudden, he turned away from the cell and walked with Roy into the outer office. Roy closed the door, gratified that Tucker had stopped shouting. \u201cWhere\u2019s your pa?\u201d he asked. No answer, but the boy looked mighty pale. \u201cYou come on in here,\u201d he said, guiding Joe into the little side room with the cot. \u201cLie down,\u201d he instructed. \u201cCome on, Joe, lie down.\u201d He patted the cot invitingly, but he couldn\u2019t even have said for sure that Joe could hear him.<\/p>\n

By the time Ben Cartwright burst through the door more than an hour later, Roy had succeeded in getting Joe to lie down on the cot, but the boy had never closed his eyes or said a word. If he\u2019d dared to leave Joe alone, he\u2019d have gone for the doctor, but he was downright frightened. He remembered seeing Joe go into these fugues, but he\u2019d never before been responsible for him. He didn\u2019t know whether Joe might try to leave, and he wasn\u2019t at all sure what he could do to stop him if he did.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben was bellowing his son\u2019s name as he charged into the office. \u201cHe\u2019s in here, Ben!\u201d Roy called, gratitude flooding his anxious heart at the prospect of handing off this responsibility.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe!\u201d Ben rounded the corner and stopped dead at the sight of his son, eyes open and unmoving. He asked the question silently, and Roy nodded. \u201cThank you,\u201d Ben managed. He sat on the edge of the cot and rubbed Joe\u2019s arm in a gesture Roy had seen him use a thousand times, though he\u2019d never quite sorted out whether the purpose was to comfort the son or the father.<\/p>\n

\u201cBen, you want me to get you anything?\u201d He didn\u2019t know what his friend could possibly want, other than to have his son whole again, but he had a sudden need to try to do something.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you mind sending somebody for the doctor?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll fetch him myself,\u201d said Roy. He hustled out the door just as Adam and Hoss came riding down C Street. He waved his hat to get their attention in case the pinto and the buckskin tied to the hitching rail in front of the jail might not be enough, but they\u2019d already seen the horses.<\/p>\n

Tersely, he told them what had gone on. Hoss immediately headed off to the doctor\u2019s office before Roy could tell him that that job was spoken for, and Adam said, \u201cTell Pa I\u2019m going to get a rig so we can drive Joe home.\u201d He was running across the street before Roy could respond.<\/p>\n

The next hour was a blur as the doctor came and the Cartwrights argued with him about whether Joe could make the trip back to the Ponderosa. Eventually, Ben Cartwright won, just as Roy knew he would. With his arm around the boy, Ben escorted Joe out to the rig Adam had hired. \u201cYou lie down and rest,\u201d Ben instructed. Hoss helped Joe into the back of the rig, gently urging him to lie back on the straw mattress Adam had commandeered from someplace, and then Hoss climbed in beside him. Adam and Ben tied the Cartwrights\u2019 mounts to the back of the rig, and eventually, Roy watched as the family drove off.<\/p>\n

It seemed as though the Cartwrights had just left when Elias Tucker\u2019s brother showed up again. Roy heard the voices in the cell area, and he braced himself for the explosion he knew was coming.<\/p>\n

Sure enough, moments later, Marcus Tucker stormed into the outer office. \u201cWhat the devil are you doing here!\u201d he demanded. \u201cYou think you\u2019re running a circus? Just because my brother has a scar, it\u2019s all right for people to come in and gawk at him and make fun of him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, you jest simmer down!\u201d Roy had had his fill of screaming Tuckers. \u201cFirst of all, there was only one person come in to see your brother after you left. Second, I dunno what he was doin\u2019, but he wasn\u2019t makin\u2019 fun of your brother. Fact is that he never said a word\u2014he jest looked. Third, he came in while I was out usin\u2019 the necessary, and as soon as I came in, I got him out of there. So, you can jest quit your belly-achin\u2019, \u2019cause I\u2019m about full up for one day!\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker glared. \u201cDid you bother finding out what the man wanted?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI dunno what he wanted,\u201d said Roy. \u201cI\u2019d have asked him, but he couldn\u2019t talk to me, so there wasn\u2019t much point.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCouldn\u2019t talk to you? What are you talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n

Roy sighed. \u201cThe man who come in here was Little Joe Cartwright,\u201d he said. \u201cHe\u2019s the one that has them fugues every so often. Well, he had one today while he was here, so he didn\u2019t say nothin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWait\u2014Cartwright was\u00a0here?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll the Cartwrights was,\u201d Roy confirmed.<\/p>\n

Tucker suddenly seemed quite interested in his fingernails. \u201cThank you, sheriff, you\u2019ve been most helpful,\u201d he said. Before Roy could respond, he turned on his heel and went back to the cell area, closing the door behind him.<\/p>\n

Strange, Roy reflected as he sat down at his desk.\u00a0A mighty peculiar day.<\/em>\u00a0He tucked the keys to the cell in his vest pocket and headed out to meet the stage the way he did every afternoon. This, at least, felt normal.<\/p>\n

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

The buggy was barely half a mile from the Cartwrights\u2019 house when the drizzle began. Anna slapped the reins on the horse\u2019s back and clucked, but the horse\u2019s gait didn\u2019t change. She slapped again, harder. Still, the horse plodded along as though pulling the buggy was an imposition, and by the time she drove into the yard in front of the house, she was definitely damp.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s the least of my problems,<\/em>\u00a0she reminded herself. Her stomach was flipping over, and she drew a deep breath as she secured the reins. Climbing out of the buggy, she straightened her back. Then, head held high, she strode across the porch to the front door.<\/p>\n

She lifted the knocker and paused. The deep voice rumbling inside could belong to only one man. It had been more than two months since she\u2019d heard him speak, but everything she\u2019d ever felt welled up. She forced herself to take deep, slow breaths until her heart had stopped pounding and she\u2019d suppressed the urge to burst into tears. Then, as firmly as she could, she lowered the knocker against the wood and listened to it echo.<\/p>\n

He opened the door, and for one brief, unguarded moment, he looked like the man she\u2019d known and loved, open and welcoming. But then, his eyes fixed on hers, and she watched his face harden, his jaw set.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello,\u201d she managed when it became clear he wasn\u2019t going to speak.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello,\u201d he said, not giving an inch.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna!\u201d At least his father sounded pleased to see her. \u201cWon\u2019t you come in,\u201d he added with a stern glance at Hoss.<\/p>\n

Hoss stepped aside to let her pass. \u201cExcuse me,\u201d she murmured as she walked close enough to smell the warm, biscuity, intoxicating scent that was his alone. \u201cGood evening, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d she said as Hoss closed the door behind her.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat brings you out here at this time of night\u2014and in this weather?\u201d Ben Cartwright guided her over to his red leather chair next to the fire. \u201cHop Sing!\u201d When the little man ran into the room, Ben said, \u201cBring Anna a towel, will you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight away!\u201d Hop Sing bobbed a bow. \u201cMissy like coffee?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, thank you,\u201d she said. The truth was that she had no desire for coffee, but she found herself pathetically grateful for any indication that someone in this house still treated her as something other than that terrible scarlet woman who broke Hoss\u2019s heart.<\/p>\n

A short time later, Hop Sing had returned with a towel so that she could dry her face and hands, as well as a tray bearing what she knew to be the coffee set that was only brought out for company.\u00a0I\u2019m company now,<\/em>\u00a0she realized with a pang.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, what can we do for you?\u201d asked Ben when he had poured her coffee and seated himself on the hearth next to her chair.<\/p>\n

Anna turned to him, trying not to notice that Hoss still stood by the door as though ready to usher her right back out. \u201cI heard what happened at the jail this afternoon,\u201d she said. \u201cI wanted to make sure Joe was all right.\u201d She ignored the small snort from across the room, adding, \u201cIf it\u2019s not too much trouble, I was hoping to talk to him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know\u2014\u201d Ben broke off at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He turned to Adam, who carried a tray and shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn\u2019t want anything,\u201d Adam announced. \u201cHello, Anna.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHello, Adam,\u201d she said. \u201cHow\u2019s Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam shrugged. \u201cHe\u2019s had better days.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna was hoping to talk to him,\u201d Ben said.<\/p>\n

Adam shook his head. \u201cI can tell you right now that he\u2019s not going to want visitors. He barely let me stay in the room.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna sipped her coffee for something to do. Normally, she\u2019d have pushed\u2014Are you sure? It\u2019ll just be a few minutes. I won\u2019t be long.<\/em>\u00a0But somehow, she couldn\u2019t make herself speak.<\/p>\n

She drained the cup and set it in the saucer as she stood. \u201cPlease tell him I hope he\u2019s feeling better,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m sorry to have bothered you all.\u201d She placed the cup and saucer on the tray. She didn\u2019t care that it was now completely dark outside. It didn\u2019t matter that she could hear the rain drumming on the roof. All she wanted was to go.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait a minute.\u201d Hoss barely glanced in her direction as he crossed the room and headed up the stairs. She looked questioningly at Ben, whose brow creased to suggest that he knew no more than she. Adam shrugged again and took the tray out to the kitchen.<\/p>\n

Minutes later, Hoss appeared at the top of the stairs. \u201cYou can come up.\u201d He stood there, not looking at her as she climbed the stairs. As she reached the top, he led her down the hall, pausing halfway to tap on a closed door. Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and said in a low voice to Anna, \u201cDon\u2019t be long.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you.\u201d She entered the room, and almost at once she heard Hoss\u2019s footsteps as he headed back down the hall. \u201cHello, Joe,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

The young man in the bed was a gray shadow of the one who had once come to her office to pester her about dinner. This one reminded her of the Joe from last fall: pale, unshaven, unsmiling. He lay flat, but his eyes followed her as she neared the bed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can sit down,\u201d he said almost grudgingly.<\/p>\n

She seated herself in the bedside chair. \u201cHow are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine.\u201d Even his voice was dull.<\/p>\n

She drew the chair closer to the bed so that he could see her more easily. \u201cI hear you went to visit Elias Tucker today.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shrugged as best he could lying down. \u201cThat\u2019s what they tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you remember anything at all about it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he said. \u201cOne minute I was here in bed, the next minute I was here in bed, and they say that in between, I got dressed, went to town, and saw Tucker at the jail.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know this may sound silly, but\u2014did you recognize him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said Joe. \u201cIf I did, I don\u2019t remember it now.\u201d He squinted suddenly. \u201cHow did you find out I was there?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMarcus Tucker told me,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWas he there, too?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she said. \u201cHe found out later, and he wasn\u2019t at all happy. He came storming into my office and wanted to know how it was that you were in town when I\u2019d told him you couldn\u2019t get out of bed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBe careful of him, Anna. He\u2019s a bad one\u2014I can feel it. You\u2019ve gotta be careful.\u201d His voice was breathless in its urgency, and she rested her hand on his shoulder to keep him calm.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine, Joe,\u201d she reassured him. \u201cHe\u2019s just worried about his brother. He wants to protect him. You know how that is.\u201d She smiled encouragingly, but there was something in Joe\u2019s expression that sent a chill down her spine, as though he knew something she didn\u2019t and that something was very, very bad.<\/p>\n

Then, he fell silent, his eyes as remote as if he was focused on something inside his mind. Just as Anna was wondering if he was in a fugue, he asked, \u201cDid his brother recognize me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cElias? He says he didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

For the first time, Joe turned to face her directly. \u201cDo you believe him?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna smiled slightly. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d she said. \u201cHe could be telling the truth, or he could be lying his head off. But that\u2019s not up to me to decide.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t that bother you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSometimes,\u201d she admitted. \u201cOther times, I\u2019d rather not know. It can be easier to represent somebody when there\u2019s still a doubt about whether they\u2019re guilty.\u201d She watched him as she spoke. He looked so tired, but at her comment about having doubts, he chuckled slightly.<\/p>\n

\u201cSome things never change,\u201d he murmured half to himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose not,\u201d she agreed. In that moment, he looked again like her friend, and without thinking, she laid her hand on his. \u201cAre you all right?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

Joe met her eyes. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he admitted. \u201cWhat about you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d she echoed. She started to rise, but Joe held her hand fast.<\/p>\n

\u201cTalk to him,\u201d he said, and suddenly, they weren\u2019t talking about Elias Tucker any more.<\/p>\n

Anna shook her head. \u201cHe\u2019s made up his mind, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTonight was the first time I\u2019ve seen him in over two months, and he barely said two words to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou caught him off-guard,\u201d Joe said. \u201cHe wasn\u2019t ready.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe had two months to get ready,\u201d she said. \u201cI never saw him, never heard from him in all that time. Not once. Not so much as a note.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna, you don\u2019t understand,\u201d said Joe. \u201cYou\u2019ve got to talk to him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the problem, Joe,\u201d she said. \u201cI do understand. And I think\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me,\u201d came Ben\u2019s voice. They both turned to see the older man standing in the doorway. \u201cI\u2019m sorry to interrupt, but Joe needs to rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d Anna squeezed his hand and rose. \u201cThank you for talking to me, Joe. I hope you\u2019re feeling better soon.\u201d She started to turn away, and impulsively, she bent down and kissed his brow. \u201cTake care of yourself,\u201d she whispered, her voice suddenly thick with grief.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou, too,\u201d Joe said. \u201cAnd be careful. That Marcus Tucker. . . .\u201d His eyes were remote again, and a shaft of pain pierced her heart. Deliberately, she kept her eyes downcast as she slipped out of the room past his father.<\/p>\n

Downstairs, she looked around, but Hoss was nowhere to be seen. It was as she\u2019d said to Joe: he\u2019d made up his mind. She turned to Ben, who had followed her down the stairs. \u201cThank you, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d she said. \u201cGood night.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t leave now,\u201d said Ben. \u201cIt\u2019s pitch dark and raining. You\u2019re not driving back to town alone. You\u2019ll stay here tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

Oh, sweet Lord.<\/em>\u00a0\u201cI couldn\u2019t,\u201d she said, and her protest had nothing to do with politeness.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, you can,\u201d said Ben. \u201cWe\u2019ve got plenty of room, and Hoss is putting up your horse now.\u201d In a quieter, almost confidential tone, he added, \u201cIf you insist on going tonight, the boys are going to have to go with you, and you\u2019ll all be soaked long before you get to town. Wait until morning, when the rain\u2019s stopped.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa\u2019s right,\u201d said Adam as he came out of the room just off the dining room. \u201cYou\u2019ll have peace and quiet down here\u2014besides which, you won\u2019t have to listen to Hoss\u2019s snoring.\u201d He smiled as though the sound of her beloved snoring was something a sane woman would want to avoid. As though she wouldn\u2019t have given practically anything to hear it once more.<\/p>\n

She looked helplessly from Ben to Adam. They were right and she knew it. What on earth had she been thinking, making this trip after supper? Granted, men did it all the time, but that was different.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re very kind,\u201d she murmured. \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHop Sing left a dressing gown and towels in your room,\u201d said Adam. He yawned as he added, \u201cAnd I\u2019m going to turn in. Good night Anna, Pa.\u201d He climbed the stairs without a backward glance, as though Anna stayed at the Ponderosa all the time.<\/p>\n

Ben took her hand. \u201cGood night, my dear,\u201d he said. \u201cSleep well.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood night,\u201d she managed. She didn\u2019t hear any footsteps on the porch, but suddenly, she wanted to be in her room with the door closed before Hoss came in. Lord help her, he was liable to think she\u2019d planned this whole thing just so that she could stay the night.\u00a0It\u2019s not true,<\/em>\u00a0she argued silently as she closed the door firmly behind her.<\/p>\n

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

She\u2019d have sworn she would never fall asleep, but the next thing she knew, she was sitting bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding as she tried to remember where she was. The pieces were just fitting when she heard it again\u2014a horrible scream, as though someone was being murdered right there in the house.<\/p>\n

Hastily, Anna fumbled to light the lamp. She pulled on the dressing gown and ran out into the living room and saw . . . nothing.<\/p>\n

Another scream, but this time, it was weaker. It was coming from upstairs. Wildly, she looked around the room. Of course\u2014the gunbelts. She\u2019d never fired a gun, but there wasn\u2019t time to quibble. She yanked a weapon out of one of the holsters and headed upstairs to do battle.<\/p>\n

At the top of the staircase, she paused. She could hear voices, but they didn\u2019t sound either threatening or fearful. One of them sounded like Mr. Cartwright, his deep voice warm and comforting. She drew nearer to the room where he was speaking, braced for anything.<\/p>\n

An instant later, a large, dark shape loomed before her. She held up the lamp and the gun at the same time, and over the pounding in her chest, she managed, \u201cStay where you are.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna\u2014it\u2019s me.\u201d<\/p>\n

She swallowed hard and lifted the lamp higher, and her breath escaped in a long whoosh. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said. \u201cI heard the screams, and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was Joe\u2014he had a nightmare,\u201d said Hoss. He took the gun from her limp fingers. \u201cYou can go on back to bed. He\u2019s fine\u2014Pa\u2019s got him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll put that back,\u201d she said, gesturing toward the gun.<\/p>\n

Remarkably, he grinned slightly, and her heart leaped. \u201cI\u2019ll take care of it,\u201d he said. She turned and headed downstairs, very aware of him right behind her.<\/p>\n

She stood by the chest of drawers that held the gunbelts, holding the lamp so that he could see to replace the gun she\u2019d seized. He started to turn away, and she blurted, \u201cIs it always like this? For Joe, I mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss looked somber. \u201cSometimes,\u201d he said. \u201cSometimes it ain\u2019t as bad. Sometimes it\u2019s worse an\u2019 we can\u2019t wake him up. That don\u2019t happen too often, though. Mostly, it just takes a little to bring him back.\u201d His words were casual, but the anguish was poorly hidden.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd there\u2019s nothing the doctor can do?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss shook his head. \u201cHe was doin\u2019 better before that little gal got killed,\u201d he said. \u201cThe fugues and the nightmares are comin\u2019 more often now. That\u2019s why Doc\u2019s worried\u2014he thinks gettin\u2019 hit on the head might\u2019ve done something to make it worse.\u201d<\/p>\n

Half to herself, Anna mused, \u201cI wish there was something that could be done to help.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo do we all,\u201d said Hoss. For an instant, it was as it had once been\u2014the two of them together, the bond as strong as the current of the Truckee River. And then, as swiftly as it had come, the moment ended, and Hoss dropped his gaze.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood night, Anna,\u201d he mumbled and headed for the stairs. As he reached the bottom, she couldn\u2019t help herself.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss!\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned around quickly, almost eagerly, but he was beyond the edges of the lamplight, and she couldn\u2019t see his face. Still, she had to ask.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened to us?\u201d<\/p>\n

He stood at the foot of the staircase for what seemed a long, long time. Finally, he said, \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were good together, weren\u2019t we?\u201d<\/p>\n

Another long silence. \u201cYep,\u201d he said. \u201cBut I reckon things changed.\u201d<\/p>\n

His voice was so quiet and sad that the words took a moment to register, like a bullet that the victim doesn\u2019t feel at first because of the shock. \u201cI guess you\u2019re right,\u201d she managed. \u201cGood night.\u201d She turned swiftly and went into her room, barely closing the door before tears began to fall.<\/p>\n

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

In the quiet of his hotel room, Marcus Tucker sipped his brandy reflectively. This time tomorrow, Elias would be a free man.<\/p>\n

Elias. His brother. His blood. The albatross around his neck.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d spent a lifetime atoning for his sin. If it hadn\u2019t been for the accident\u2014and yes, it was an accident, he insisted now, even in his own mind\u2014he could have married Elias off to a girl who was rich and slightly stupid, one who would find his thick curls and big brown eyes so compelling that she wouldn\u2019t care that he hadn\u2019t two nickels to rub together. And then, with Elias properly cared for, Marcus would have been free to pursue the life he was born for\u2014that of a gentleman.<\/p>\n

But one day\u2014one wretched day\u2014had changed it all.\u00a0It wasn\u2019t my fault,<\/em>\u00a0his mind protested as he poured another brandy. He\u2019d been ten years old, trying to do a man\u2019s dirty work in the barn. Elias, barely five, had tagged after him wherever he went.\u00a0I wanna be with you,<\/em>\u00a0the child insisted, and their mother said it was charming. The truth was that she\u2019d probably have said anything to get them out from underfoot while she entertained her callers.<\/p>\n

\u201cCallers,\u201d he snorted aloud. A generous term for the men who\u2019d come through their lives when Pa was in town. If that drunken sot had ever wondered how she managed to feed and clothe them, to provide shoes for boys and for horses, to buy seed corn and get it planted\u2014in other words, to keep them all from starving while he drank whatever wages he\u2019d earned\u2014if he wondered, he said nothing.<\/p>\n

Once he was old enough to understand how his mother kept body and soul together for the family, he began to dream about who his real father might be. In the last minutes before sleep claimed him, he conjured up images of a gentleman in a splendid blue coat who arrived in a shiny black buggy drawn by four coal-black horses. The gentleman\u2019s driver would draw the team to a halt, and the gentleman would step from the carriage, ebony walking stick in hand, its gold top glinting in the sunlight. He would look around the unkempt yard, sneering in distaste at the few scraggly chickens running hither and yon, and then his eyes would light on the bespectacled boy coming out of the barn. With a wide smile, he would open his arms and say, \u201cMy son!\u201d And Marcus would drop the pail of slops he was carrying to the pig and run to his true father, and they would ride off together without a backward glance.<\/p>\n

That was how it was supposed to be.<\/p>\n

But instead, on a dry, cool day in the spring, the blacksmith came through. He had no interest in the children, barking at them to stay away from the forge. Marcus held Elias back while the little one watched, fascinated, as the brawny man with the enormous forearms hammered the red-hot steel into horseshoes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou kids stay away from here,\u201d he said at last as he set down his hammer and tongs. He strode to the trough and dunked his head in. Elias giggled in delight as the big man blew bubbles while under water and then emerged, shaking his head like a wet cur.<\/p>\n

What happened next? The memories were vague, but persistent. Marcus trying to do chores. Laughter, hers and his, floating out the window of the house. Elias asking questions, questions, more questions. The laughter giving way to a man\u2019s deep moans, a woman\u2019s lighter cries. Elias\u2019s little forehead wrinkling. \u201cIs he hurting her? Is he hurting Ma?\u201d Marcus\u2019s brusque reassurance that Ma wasn\u2019t being hurt, that Elias should get back to work, and Elias\u2019s defiant, \u201cI\u2019m gonna help Ma!\u201d<\/p>\n

In that instant, Marcus saw what would happen. The man would be angry\u2014might even charge them for the horseshoes. When they couldn\u2019t pay, he would take the farm and leave them nothing, nothing at all. They would move to town, and Ma would go to work as one of those ladies he\u2019d heard about, those \u201csoiled doves\u201d the boys at school sniggered about . . . and his rich father would never, ever be willing to claim the child of such a woman as his own.<\/p>\n

Elias had dropped the harness he was to put away, and he began to run for the barn door. But he couldn\u2019t interrupt them, he just couldn\u2019t. And Marcus ran after him and grabbed for him, and the child stumbled and fell headlong into the forge. . . .<\/p>\n

She never said so, but Marcus knew his mother had never forgiven him. Because it had all come to pass just as he imagined. All except the rich father rejecting him, although for all he knew, that had happened, too. But it was all as he\u2019d known it would be\u2014the angry blacksmith, the horseshoes, the farm.<\/p>\n

She might even have forgiven him that, he reflected now as he poured more brandy. But she would never forgive him for disfiguring her beautiful little boy. It was a miracle Elias hadn\u2019t lost his eye, people said later. And when she went to work, some of the men gave her a little extra because they felt sorry for the child. For a time, she let Elias wander around in front of the house where she worked, hoping that he would encourage the sympathetic sorts, but as the little boy grew into a gangly youth, his scar invited disgust and ridicule more than pity. Eventually, the woman who ran the house threatened to discharge her if she didn\u2019t keep Elias away.<\/p>\n

And so, it fell to Marcus to look after Elias. It was his job while she lived, and when she finally died at the hands of a jealous man, it remained Marcus\u2019s job.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t know whether Elias had always been slow or whether the accident had addled his brain, but it didn\u2019t matter, because he could follow Marcus\u2019s instructions. Kindly storekeepers seemed to think that being homely and disfigured meant that the Tucker brothers were trustworthy. When the merchants turned their backs to fetch a bit of penny candy for the unfortunate lads, Marcus would load Elias\u2019s pockets with whatever he could carry. It didn\u2019t matter what it was\u2014there was always someone looking to buy goods a little cheaper in an alley than he\u2019d pay in a store.<\/p>\n

The decanter was empty. He peered at it in mild surprise. He\u2019d thought there was more. There should have been more.<\/p>\n

He leaned back in his chair. One more day. Anna Simmons had said that she didn\u2019t expect the trial to take longer than that. The witness list was short: the sheriff and the doctor. The prosecutor might call one or two witnesses to talk about Eleanor Gunther, but that wouldn\u2019t take long. Anna Simmons didn\u2019t want to put Elias on the stand\u2014very risky, she said\u2014but it didn\u2019t look as though they were going to have a choice.<\/p>\n

She\u2019d assured him that Joe Cartwright wasn\u2019t coming. Even if he did, she said, he remembered nothing. His testimony couldn\u2019t hurt them.<\/p>\n

Marcus still wasn\u2019t quite comfortable with her friendship with the Cartwrights, but he\u2019d reconciled it in his own mind as a necessary evil. He\u2019d heard a rumor that she\u2019d gone out to the Ponderosa a couple weeks back and spent the night there. Snuck out of town after dark, returned first thing in the morning. Not that she\u2019d said a word about it to him, but he understood. His mother would never have discussed such matters, either. And if the result of that visit was that Joe Cartwright would stay away from Elias\u2019s trial, Marcus supposed he could let it slide.<\/p>\n

Through it all, Elias continued to insist that he hadn\u2019t killed the girl. He\u2019d kissed her, that was all. All right, he\u2019d gone after her and made her get out of her buggy and kissed her some more, and maybe she hadn\u2019t really wanted to kiss him that time, and maybe her reluctance had upset him\u2014but no, he hadn\u2019t\u00a0killed<\/em>\u00a0her. Not this one. Not this time.<\/p>\n

He sounded sincere enough, but the story had holes big enough to drive a stagecoach through. If Elias hadn\u2019t killed the girl, why had the posse caught him riding hellbent for leather\u00a0away<\/em>from Virginia City? He was supposed to be going to Virginia City to meet Marcus\u2014a fact he\u2019d admitted almost immediately when the sheriff questioned him\u2014and he\u2019d had no rational explanation for why he was racing away from town. What else could he be running away from, other than the girl he\u2019d killed and the man he thought he\u2019d killed? Who would ever believe Elias\u2019s story?<\/p>\n

The jurors would have to be a dozen fools, although from what Marcus had seen around town, fools were in good supply. None was as big a fool as Elias, though. As soon as the sheriff stopped him, he started babbling about the girl and the man he\u2019d left behind. Hadn\u2019t he learned anything from Marcus? The first rule, above all others, was to keep his mouth shut. Maybe\u2014just maybe\u2014if Elias had kept quiet, they wouldn\u2019t be here now.<\/p>\n

For a brief, disloyal moment, he allowed himself to wonder how his life would be if Elias were to be convicted. The freedom to come and go as he chose, without the constant watching and worrying\u2014it was like a chinook, cold and fresh, blowing through his stale, closed-up life.<\/p>\n

Elias. His brother. Dead.<\/p>\n

He doubled over as though someone had stabbed him in the gut. His little brother, his eyes closed, his neck broken, his questions silenced as he dangled from a rope on a dusty street while people gawked and pointed. Families with lunches packed, making a holiday of it. Children chasing one another, laughing with glee as they dared each other to touch the worn brown boots, mere inches above the dirt, their frantic dance of escape forever stilled. Eleanor Gunther\u2019s people\u2014rich, sleek, satisfied\u2014standing by the gallows, nodding their vengeful approval before they turned away. leaving Elias to rot in the sun like a slab of rejected meat as they went back to their privileged, respectable lives.<\/p>\n

No. It couldn\u2019t be. It didn\u2019t matter that he\u2019d killed the girl. It was an accident, pure and simple, just like Miranda Kelly.<\/p>\n

He tipped the decanter to see whether a few drops of brandy lingered. He\u2019d done all he could. It would be enough. There was no more to be done.<\/p>\n

Well, maybe there was one more thing. He rose unsteadily and put on his hat.<\/p>\n

He could find some more brandy.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cJoseph, would you sit down!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just want to see\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s patience was at an end. Heaven only knew why he thought Joe would be easier to deal with once the doctor let him out of bed. It was as though the boy had stored up a year\u2019s worth of energy during those two weeks in bed, and now he was bound and determined to find a way to spend it all.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, you listen to me, young man,\u201d Ben said in the tone that used to be the final warning before a trip out to the barn with the strap. \u201cYou can either stay on the settee the way Doc said to, or go back up to bed. Do you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir,\u201d Joe grumbled. Reluctantly, he closed the front door and returned to the appointed spot. Sitting on the settee wasn\u2019t much, but it beat the daylights of lying in bed for yet another day. He\u2019d had enough of that to last a lifetime.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Joe! Adam\u2019s coming!\u201d came Hoss\u2019s voice from outside.<\/p>\n

Joe was off the settee like a shot, but a thundered \u201cJoseph!\u201d stopped him in his tracks. His father pointed, and Joe returned to the designated spot, fairly quivering with anticipation.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell? How\u2019d it go?\u201d he demanded as soon as the door opened.<\/p>\n

Adam took his time hanging up his hat and coiling his gunbelt before he turned to his brother. \u201cThey convicted him,\u201d he said in a voice which would have sounded matter-of-fact, almost callous, to anyone who didn\u2019t know him. \u201cHanging\u2019s at sunrise, day after tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

All at once, Joe was glad he was sitting down. Adam\u2019s words felt like an unexpected fist landing deep in his gut. He clutched the edge of the settee and tried to steady himself with a deep breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow?\u201d he asked after a moment. The sharp look from his father let him know that he didn\u2019t sound as solid as he\u2019d hoped.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s let Adam clean up, and we\u2019ll discuss it over dinner,\u201d said Ben in a tone that made it clear this was not a mere suggestion. Adam retreated to the wash house, and Ben said in a low voice, \u201cAre you all right?\u201d Joe nodded, and even though his father eyed him suspiciously, he didn\u2019t pursue the matter.<\/p>\n

A short time later, the family had gathered around the table, the blessing had been asked, and the interrogation began. \u201cWhat was Tucker\u2019s story?\u201d Joe demanded as Ben handed him the bowl of mashed potatoes.<\/p>\n

\u201cUnsurprisingly, he said he didn\u2019t do it,\u201d said Adam. \u201cClaimed he\u2019d met the girl on the high road when her buggy ran off the side. He helped her right it, and they ended up kissing. When she left, he went after her, and the same thing happened again\u2014buggy off the road and kissing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy\u2019d he kill her?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/p>\n

Adam shrugged as he speared a pork chop. \u201cHe says he didn\u2019t,\u201d he reminded his brother. \u201cHis testimony was that while he was kissing the girl the second time, some fellow came along and took a swing at Tucker. He said they fought briefly, and then Tucker jumped on his horse and rode away like the devil, leaving the man standing and the girl alive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWait\u2014he said Joe came along and took a swing at him?\u201d Ben frowned as he accepted the dish of string beans from Hoss.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn\u2019t say it was Joe,\u201d said Adam. \u201cThe prosecutor tried to get him to describe the man, and all he came up with was brown hair and it all happened real fast. Anna tried to use the fact that Joe had been to see Tucker at the jail to get him to say he knew what Joe looked like and it wasn\u2019t the same person, but he was getting pretty agitated by that time and he wasn\u2019t making much sense.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy\u2019d she want him to say it wasn\u2019t Joe?\u201d Hoss scrunched up his face, puzzled.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was trying to argue that there was somebody else who came along before Joe got there. Her argument was that by the time Joe rode in, Tucker had left and Brown-haired Man Number Two was alone with Eleanor, and that fellow was the one who knocked out Joe and killed the girl,\u201d said Adam. \u201cPass the bread.\u201d Joe handed him the bread basket as Adam continued, \u201cI thought it was a pretty clever argument, but I guess the jury just didn\u2019t believe it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho else testified?\u201d Ben inquired.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe doctor, the sheriff, and me,\u201d said Adam in between bites.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou? What did you talk about?\u201d Joe was surprised, but Adam shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna called me to corroborate the doctor\u2019s story about what went on that day and how you couldn\u2019t remember anything and weren\u2019t allowed to leave the ranch,\u201d he said. \u201cShe went into the fugue thing a little, but basically, my role was to explain why the only witness wasn\u2019t there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo I was Exhibit A,\u201d Joe said with unexpected bitterness.<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty much,\u201d said Adam. \u201cRoy talked about how we found Joe and then how they found the girl\u2019s body, and he told about how the posse found Tucker riding as though he was running for his life.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben winced. \u201cDid he put it that way?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam nodded. \u201cThe doctor talked about how Eleanor Gunther died, and he described how the bruises on her neck would have to be made by someone big and strong. Tucker\u2019s a pretty big guy, so that didn\u2019t help him. Jury was out for less than an hour. When they came back and announced the verdict, he started to cry. I almost felt sorry for him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if he didn\u2019t do it?\u201d Joe asked, his voice tight.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean? Do you remember something?\u201d Ben\u2019s heart pounded. Maybe this time it wasn\u2019t a fugue. . . .<\/p>\n

But Joe was shaking his head. \u201cI just\u2014it doesn\u2019t feel right,\u201d he said. He looked up helplessly. \u201cI don\u2019t remember anything, I can\u2019t add anything\u2014but something just doesn\u2019t feel right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Deliberately calm and rational, Adam said, \u201cA jury of twelve men heard everything Elias Tucker had to say about what happened. He had Anna representing him, and you know how good she is. If he was innocent, they wouldn\u2019t have convicted him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s ridiculous and you know it!\u201d Joe snapped. \u201cJuries make mistakes all the time. Witnesses get things wrong\u2014they don\u2019t remember right, or they didn\u2019t really see things. You of all people should know that, Adam\u2014you and Pa nearly hung when Sally Byrnes said she saw you kill her pa and it wasn\u2019t true!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Sally knew she was lying,\u201d Adam pointed out. \u201cShe thought we\u2019d killed him, and she wanted to make sure we were punished, but she wasn\u2019t telling the truth and she knew it. In this case, the sheriff didn\u2019t lie, and neither did the doctor, and neither did I. The only other people who testified were Elias Tucker and John Gunther, and all John talked about was how he had no idea where Eleanor was going that day. He was at a board meeting, and he didn\u2019t even know she wasn\u2019t in her room until the sheriff came to the door.\u201d Adam reached for the carrots as he added, \u201cIf anybody was going to say they knew Tucker did it, John Gunther would have had the most cause\u2014he\u2019d want to see his daughter\u2019s murderer hang. But even he said he\u2019d never seen Tucker in his life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you think Tucker lied,\u201d Joe said.<\/p>\n

Adam considered this. \u201cYes,\u201d he said finally. \u201cI think Tucker lied. I think he killed Eleanor Gunther and he nearly killed you. I don\u2019t think he was running away because he was scared of some mysterious stranger. I think he was running away because he knew that if the posse caught up with him, he\u2019d hang.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you come to all those conclusions without a shred of evidence.\u201d Joe\u2019s voice was unsteady now.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy\u2019re you so bound and determined to say he\u2019s innocent?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause\u2014because\u2014it just doesn\u2019t feel right. I know it sounds stupid, but I just feel like something\u2019s wrong.\u201d He looked from one to another, pleading silently for any of them to understand.<\/p>\n

Ben laid his hand on Joe\u2019s arm. \u201cSon, you\u2019ve been up for quite a while now,\u201d he said. \u201cMaybe you\u2019d better get yourself back to bed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t need to go back to bed!\u201d Joe snapped.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t raise your voice to me,\u201d Ben warned.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t need to go back to bed,\u201d Joe repeated, his voice taut with the effort of keeping control. \u201cI need to figure out what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSounds like the jury already did that, Little Brother,\u201d said Hoss gently.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, I want to go into town.\u201d Joe shoved back his chair. \u201cI need to see Elias Tucker. Maybe then, I\u2019ll remember.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you\u2019ve got that picture,\u201d Adam reminded him. \u201cGranted, it\u2019s not all that good, but it\u2019s close enough. Just picture what that man would look like with a scar on his face.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not going into town,\u201d said Ben in the voice his sons all knew as pronouncing the matter settled. \u201cI want you to go upstairs and lie down for a while. You\u2019ve already been up longer than the doctor said you should.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, Pa. . . .\u201d The protest died on Joe\u2019s lips.<\/p>\n

Ben regarded his son for a long minute. \u201cJoseph, come with me,\u201d he said, rising. His hand on Joe\u2019s shoulder, he guided his son across the main room to his desk. He opened the center drawer and drew out the drawing. \u201cLook at this,\u201d he said, handing it to Joe. \u201cHave you ever seen this man in your life?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe studied the drawing as his brothers came over. For several minutes, no one spoke. Finally, Joe looked up and shook his head. \u201cNot that I remember,\u201d he admitted.<\/p>\n

\u201cWas this man on the high road the day you got hit on the head?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you see ever him with Eleanor Gunther?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d A whisper of defeat.<\/p>\n

Ben took the drawing back. \u201cThen there\u2019s nothing more you can do,\u201d he said gently. \u201cI know you want to help, but this time, you\u2019ve done all you can.\u201d He closed the drawing in the drawer. \u201cYou\u2019ve had a long day. Why don\u2019t you turn in?\u201d<\/p>\n

Wordlessly, Joe nodded and turned to go upstairs. At the landing, he turned back as a new thought occurred to him. \u201cWhat did Tucker\u2019s brother say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn\u2019t testify,\u201d Adam said. \u201cI don\u2019t know what he did after the trial. If he said anything to anybody, I didn\u2019t hear it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about Anna? What did she say? Was she surprised about the verdict?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said Adam. \u201cYou know how she is in a courtroom\u2014poker-faced all the way. You can\u2019t tell if she\u2019s bluffing or not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomebody needs to make sure she\u2019s okay.\u201d Joe came back down the stairs and headed for the door. \u201cMarcus Tucker\u2019s not going to be happy about this. Somebody should check on Anna, make sure she\u2019s all right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph.\u201d His father\u2019s voice stopped him. \u201cAnna\u2019s fine. This isn\u2019t the first trial she\u2019s lost. I\u2019m sure she\u2019s disappointed, but this is her job, and she\u2019s used to it.\u201d Involuntarily, Ben glanced at Hoss as he spoke; his middle son\u2019s expression bespoke doubt.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019Sides, she\u2019s got her partner,\u201d Hoss said. \u201cI reckon he\u2019ll make sure she\u2019s all right.\u201d The silence that followed that pronouncement stretched out like bitter taffy.<\/p>\n

Ben pulled himself back from memories of Hoss and Anna to the problem before him. \u201cJoe, go on upstairs,\u201d he said. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing more you can do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think I\u2019m gonna turn in, too,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cCome on, Little Brother.\u201d He clapped his hand on Joe\u2019s shoulder and steered him back to the staircase. Ben and Adam watched as the brothers climbed the stairs and disappeared around the corner.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did you think of the verdict?\u201d Ben asked in a low voice.<\/p>\n

Adam shrugged. \u201cCould have gone either way,\u201d he said. \u201cI think the jury just didn\u2019t believe Elias Tucker, and there wasn\u2019t anybody to back up his story.\u201d He shook his head, remembering. \u201cTo tell you the truth, I kind of felt sorry for him,\u201d he said. \u201cHe\u2019s definitely not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and I could picture him getting upset if the girl didn\u2019t want to kiss him. Maybe he was just holding on to her too tightly and accidentally broke her neck.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut why would he have hit your brother?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said Adam. \u201cMaybe he panicked. Maybe he thought he\u2019d killed Joe, too.\u201d He pinched the bridge of his nose as he added, \u201cWhat I don\u2019t understand is why he\u2019d go to the trouble of fighting Joe and hitting him with a rock or something. Why didn\u2019t he just shoot him if he wanted to kill him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know, but I\u2019m glad he didn\u2019t,\u201d said Ben. He yawned. \u201cAnd I\u2019m glad it\u2019s over,\u201d he added. \u201cI think I\u2019m going to turn in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m done, too,\u201d said Adam. \u201cI have a feeling tomorrow\u2019s going to be a long day\u2014keeping Joe reasonably quiet, I mean. Good thing the hanging\u2019s not being put off.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHopefully, he\u2019ll settle down once the whole thing is behind us,\u201d Ben agreed. He extinguished the lamp on his desk as Adam moved through the living room, blowing out other lamps, and Hop Sing finished clearing the table. Finally, Ben picked up the last lamp, and he and Adam made their way up the darkened stairs.<\/p>\n

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

Joe closed the book and laid it on the night table. He hadn\u2019t heard a sound for nearly an hour. He wondered if anybody else was still awake.<\/p>\n

As quietly as he could, Joe slipped from his bed and headed downstairs to his father\u2019s desk. He lit the lamp and slid open the drawer. There it was, right on top. The drawing of the man he couldn\u2019t remember. If, of course, he\u2019d ever known him at all.<\/p>\n

He took out the drawing, closed the drawer and blew out the lamp. In the darkness, he made his way back to his room. There, with the door firmly closed, he studied the drawing as though it would reveal something new this time.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho are you?\u201d he whispered. \u201cHave I ever seen you?\u201d He held his breath almost as though he expected the drawing to answer him. \u201cMove your hat,\u201d he said. \u201cTurn down your collar.\u201d He squinted as if he might be able to see the scar Adam had mentioned. \u201cWhere is it? Where\u2019s your scar?\u201d<\/p>\n

But still, the drawing revealed nothing.<\/p>\n

Finally, he laid the drawing on his desk. He blew out the bedside lamp and climbed into bed, pulling the quilt up over him as he curled up into a ball. He was so cold. Tiny shreds of thought floated through his mind, dodging his attempts to capture them. A scream. Hoof beats. A girl. Indians. A scar. An old man. A stagecoach. A man asleep. A buggy. A dark-eyed man. Another scream. Anna. Bulging blue eyes. A rock. A noose. A drawing. Helplessness. . . .<\/p>\n

. . . . and then, the bullets and arrows screamed past him. He tried to grab Anna, to drag her under the stagecoach with him, but his hand kept landing on the blue-eyed snake. Mary Ann Sawyer was shrieking in pain. A scar-faced man tried to crawl under the stagecoach with them, begging Joe and Anna to save him from the men with the rope, and a girl with pigtails screamed in terror as hands pulled her away.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cGet away from her!\u201d Joe screamed. He tried to hold onto Anna, but the snake was pulling at her, wrapping itself around her neck. From all sides, people were grabbing at him, and he rolled out from under the stagecoach and began to run, willing them to chase him, to leave her alone.<\/p>\n

They were running after him now. He could hear the pounding, the shouting. The snake kept calling to him, trying to get him to turn around. It would grasp him with its powerful tail, but he fought and kicked and twisted and bit. Anything to free himself. Anything to protect them.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe! Joe, stop it!\u201d<\/p>\n

The voice sounded familiar, deep like Pa\u2019s, but he shook his head. It was a trick. As soon as he stopped fighting, they would seize him and hold him, and then they would get her and it would happen all over again, just the way it had to Mary Ann.<\/p>\n

He had to do better this time. He had to protect them. He had to save her, save them all. No matter what.<\/p>\n

A flight of stairs appeared, and he raced down, their footsteps thundering behind him. He lunged across the room, their shouting more frantic. This time, he would succeed. This time, he would protect her, would protect them all. This time, he would win, and no one would die.<\/p>\n

As their voices thundered, he dove for the gunbelt and yanked the gun free. The moment was here.<\/p>\n

But one of them grabbed him from behind and pinned him. He screamed, clawing wildly, as a stronger hand held his. He squeezed the trigger, and glass shattered, but they didn\u2019t stop coming. The hand held his harder now. He couldn\u2019t feel his fingers, but he clung to the gun. It was the only thing between him and her and the ones who would do them harm, and he wouldn\u2019t give it up, not for anything.<\/p>\n

And then, with a mighty roar, the one holding him slammed his arm down against the edge of the credenza. A lightning jolt of pain, like a flash fire, raced through his arm. The gun clattered from his useless fingers to the wood. He heard himself screaming, this time in agony, as the tears began to flow. He\u2019d lost. They would capture her, and there was nothing he could do. Anna and the scar-faced man, the girl with the pigtails, Mary Ann the driver and old Mr. Ziegler . . . all lost, all because of him. Once again, he had failed to save them. He felt himself sliding to the floor as he moaned, \u201cI\u2019m sorry . . . I\u2019m so sorry. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph\u2014son, can you hear me? It\u2019s Pa. Can you hear me, Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

Slowly, the scene began to shift. The violent, jagged pain in his arm blazed, and scalding tears spilled down his face, but the room began to make sense even though it was spinning.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you hear me, Joseph?\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded. He could hear the voice, strong and yet fearful. It sounded familiar, and yet\u2014it wasn\u2019t possible. Pa wasn\u2019t there. He wasn\u2019t anywhere near the stagecoach. \u201cNo,\u201d he whispered. \u201cNot\u2014not Pa.\u201d He heard a sharp gasp behind him, and the man before him swallowed hard.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s me, son,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d The words made no sense. Joe cradled his arm as he peered at the man\u2019s face\u2014dark eyes, lined skin, trembling lips, craggy features. Everything about the face bespoke enormous pain, almost as crippling to see as his own was to feel. He reached out with his good hand to touch the weather-beaten cheek, uncertain and almost curious, and he saw tears well up in the deep, sad eyes.<\/p>\n

With the touch, he felt something inside release, and the scene shifted again. It was as if someone was taking down barriers that had enabled him to see but had somehow blocked him from knowing. Like the searching touch of a blind man, his fingers traced the cheek, feeling the creases, assembling the image. The man remained motionless as Joe moved his fingertips along the cheek to the strong, square jaw, and then up to the full lips and the generous nose.<\/p>\n

And then, the man blinked, and his tear splashed on Joe\u2019s hand. The scene shifted one more time, and Joe knew.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

Pa nodded. \u201cIt\u2019s me, son,\u201d he said hoarsely. His blunt, work-roughened hand closed over Joe\u2019s. \u201cDo you know where you are?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe looked around. \u201cHome,\u201d he said after a moment. He heard movement, and Hoss and Adam crouched down beside him. His brothers. His father. His home. And yet, something was terribly, terribly wrong. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou had a nightmare,\u201d said Ben. \u201cWe couldn\u2019t wake you up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe bowed his head, trying to remember. Fragments of images tumbled through his mind\u2014stagecoaches, Indians, blood, knives, guns. Blood. Torn clothing. Torn scalps. Blood. Ropes. Snakes. Indians. White men. Blood.<\/p>\n

Anna and a pigtailed girl and a scar-faced man, all screaming and bleeding and dying. Himself, trying to distract the killers and yet, in the end, unable to do anything to save anyone.<\/p>\n

A stab of panic struck at his core. Without thinking, he pulled his hand away, cradling his arm, and he pulled in on himself, bracing against what his mind saw.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all right, son,\u201d Ben said. \u201cYou\u2019re all right. You\u2019re awake now. The dream\u2019s over.\u201d<\/p>\n

But terror and grief swept through him afresh, and he curled nearly into a ball, trembling. He felt his father\u2019s arms, so strong and safe, enveloping him, holding him against the broad chest as Pa murmured soft, soothing words that he couldn\u2019t quite hear but that he nonetheless understood. Slowly, ever so slowly, he felt the tension in his body begin to ease, until he was sitting up.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s have a look at that arm,\u201d suggested Pa. Joe nodded, his lips pressed together so hard that they were white. With infinite gentleness, Pa tried to slide back the sleeve of Joe\u2019s nightshirt, but the cuff was too snug. From nowhere came a pair of scissors, and Joe could feel everyone watching as Pa cut the sleeve.<\/p>\n

The arm was hot, swollen, red and black and angry. Ever so lightly, Pa ran his fingers over the swollen area, and Joe bit his lip to keep from crying out. Pa nodded to Hoss and Adam as he said, \u201cIt\u2019s broken, all right.\u201d He stroked Joe\u2019s hair. \u201cLet\u2019s get you over to the settee,\u201d he said. \u201cDo you think you can stand up?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. Clumsily, with Pa holding onto his good arm, he got to his feet. For a moment, he swayed, and Adam stepped forward, resting his arm lightly around Joe\u2019s shoulders. \u201cOkay,\u201d said Joe, and the brothers made their way to the settee.<\/p>\n

As Joe sat, Pa said, \u201cWhy don\u2019t you lie down, son? I think you\u2019ll feel better.\u201d Obediently, because he couldn\u2019t think what else to do, Joe lay back, and Pa covered him with a blanket, lifting his broken arm to rest on the rough red wool. \u201cHoss, get the brandy,\u201d said Pa. An instant later, it seemed, Pa was holding a glass to his lips and telling him to drink. He\u2019d never really liked brandy, and now, it just tasted like metallic fire. He cringed, turning away, and the glass vanished.<\/p>\n

He could hear the others talking, but he couldn\u2019t seem to understand fast enough to get into the conversation. His head felt as though somebody\u2019d stuffed it with socks, and he was as cold as he could ever remember being. He pulled the blanket up, over his broken arm, and closed his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you all right, son?\u201d Pa was rubbing his shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cCold,\u201d Joe whispered. He heard Pa say something about a blanket, and moments later, he felt another blanket being spread on top of the first one. It was too much weight on his arm, though, and he struggled to figure out how to get his arm out from under the blankets without getting cold.<\/p>\n

He must have said something, because the next thing he knew, the fire was blazing in the fireplace as if it were midday, and his jacket had been tucked around his shoulders. His broken arm rested on a pillow on his chest, on top of the blankets. Pa held a glass of cool water to his lips, and he drank thirstily. Then, he let his head drop back, and Pa tucked another pillow behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust rest, Joe,\u201d said Pa quietly. \u201cAdam\u2019s gone for the doctor. They\u2019ll be back before you know it.\u201d He stroked Joe\u2019s hair.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m so sorry, Little Brother,\u201d said Hoss. His voice sounded as unsteady as Joe felt. \u201cI didn\u2019t want to do it, you know that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shifted a little so that he could see his brother\u2019s round, worried face. He didn\u2019t know what Hoss meant, but he couldn\u2019t seem to organize his thoughts enough to ask. He reached out to his brother with his good hand, and Hoss squeezed it gratefully.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, what if he falls asleep and has another nightmare?\u201d the big man asked in a low voice clearly not intended for Joe\u2019s hearing.\u00a0I\u2019m right here, you big lug,<\/em>\u00a0Joe wanted to say, but the conversation was already past him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re just going to have to hope that doesn\u2019t happen,\u201d Pa was saying. The words sounded fine, but there was a sliver of despair in his voice. Joe tried to think of some way to reassure them, but the truth was that he couldn\u2019t. He didn\u2019t know what had happened, what would happen. There were no guarantees any more, no answers at all. No way to know what was coming next.<\/p>\n

Out of nowhere came a memory from long ago. \u201cPa?\u201d Even to his own ears, his voice sounded timid, like a child\u2019s.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it, son?\u201d Pa\u2019s face was lined with worry.<\/p>\n

\u201cRead to me?\u201d He felt almost embarrassed to be asking.<\/p>\n

Pa smiled, clearly grateful to be asked. \u201cOf course,\u201d he said. \u201cHoss, would you go upstairs and get the book on Joe\u2019s desk?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d said Joe. \u201cNot that one.\u201d He couldn\u2019t think of the name of the book he wanted to hear from, but it wasn\u2019t one of his detective stories. \u201cThe one you used to read from when I was little,\u201d he said finally. \u201cThe big one.\u201d When Pa looked confused, Joe tried again: \u201cYou know\u2014the one that belonged to Hoss\u2019s ma.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pa still looked perplexed for a minute. Then, understanding dawned, mingled with something that looked almost like sadness. He crossed the room, took a large, leather-bound volume from its place on the side table, and returned to sit on the table beside the settee. He turned the well-worn pages until he found the page he sought. His rich, sonorous voice began to read the familiar words of the hundred and twenty-first psalm: \u201cI will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe closed his eyes. He heard Hoss settle himself in Pa\u2019s chair. The ancient words, read in those deep, beloved tones, warmed him from the inside out. Gradually, the tension began to ease, and he felt himself drifting off as Pa read, \u201cThe Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Anna paused on the sidewalk in front of her office. If he wasn\u2019t already inside, waiting for her, he would be here soon. There was nothing to do but hear him out. She owed him that much.<\/p>\n

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

Marcus Tucker\u2019s deep voice was chilling. He stood in the doorway to her office. Richard sat at his desk, shrugging slightly as if to apologize for letting him in.<\/p>\n

She moved to the coat rack and hung up her soft blue wrap, a gift from Hoss last fall. He said he saw it in a store in Sacramento and he bought it because it was the exact same color as her eyes. He\u2019d draped it around her shoulders and smiled. \u201cA perfect match,\u201d he\u2019d announced with that smile that made her stomach flip. He rested one enormous hand against her cheek, and the love in his eyes was so clear and unvarnished that she felt tears welling up. . . .<\/p>\n

She forced her mind back to the present. \u201cLet\u2019s go inside,\u201d she said to Tucker. The little man barely stepped aside far enough to let her squeeze past. She moved around the desk to her own seat as she invited him to sit down. Once he was seated, she said, \u201cI can\u2019t tell you how sorry I am about this result. I hoped that the jury would believe your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus Tucker\u2019s bulging blue eyes pinned her as though she were a bug. \u201cYou think that\u2019s what happened? The jury just didn\u2019t believe him?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna nodded. \u201cIt\u2019s as I told you before,\u201d she said. \u201cJuries want to blame someone. I tried to give them the phantom killer, but to accept that, they had to believe that Elias left Eleanor Gunther alive. Clearly, they didn\u2019t believe him. I\u2019m sorry, Mr. Tucker. I wish there was something more I could do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if we brought Joe Cartwright in? What if he said he remembers?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat would only work if Joe Cartwright actually remembered something\u2014and it was something helpful,\u201d Anna said as gently as she could. \u201cBut you heard his brother yesterday. Joe\u2019s never recalled anything about that day. That\u2019s why I put Adam Cartwright on the stand\u2014to explain why the only eyewitness wasn\u2019t testifying.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut he could still say he did,\u201d Marcus insisted. \u201cI\u2019m a rich man, Miss Simmons. I could make it worth Cartwright\u2019s while.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna shook her head. Sadly, she wasn\u2019t even surprised at the suggestion; the only surprise was that he hadn\u2019t raised the notion sooner. \u201cJoe Cartwright won\u2019t lie for you,\u201d she said. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter how much you offer him. Even if he could come to town, he would never testify to something that wasn\u2019t true.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus Tucker watched her for a long time. \u201cSo that\u2019s it,\u201d he said flatly. \u201cMy brother\u2019s going to die because your friend won\u2019t help us, is that what you\u2019re telling me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s nothing he can do to help,\u201d said Anna. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing anybody can do. The jury heard everything Elias had to say, and they didn\u2019t believe him. I did the very best I could, Mr. Tucker, but I can\u2019t create witnesses who don\u2019t exist, and I can\u2019t make a jury accept something if they don\u2019t believe it\u2019s true.\u201d A thought occurred to her. \u201cDo you believe his story, Mr. Tucker?\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker sat up straight. \u201cI can\u2019t believe you said that.\u201d<\/p>\n

But his voice was just a bit too fervent, and Anna held steady. \u201cIt occurs to me that you\u2019ve never said one way or the other what you think of your brother\u2019s account of that day,\u201d she said. \u201cObviously, the jury didn\u2019t believe it. My question is, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy brother is innocent,\u201d proclaimed Marcus Tucker.<\/p>\n

Avoiding the question,<\/em>\u00a0Anna noted. It was as she\u2019d suspected. Marcus Tucker knew something he\u2019d never admitted, and it wasn\u2019t something that would have helped. Thank heaven the prosecutor hadn\u2019t called him.<\/p>\n

Her glance fell on a stack of papers by her left hand. She had so much work to do today, but she knew where her first obligation lay. So, she simply said, \u201cWould you like some coffee, Mr. Tucker?\u201d When he didn\u2019t answer, she said, \u201cExcuse me.\u201d Moments later, she returned with a tray bearing cups and saucers, a sugar and creamer, spoons and a coffee pot. As Marcus Tucker watched, she poured him a cup of coffee and set it on the desk in front of him. Then, she poured herself a cup and added cream and sugar. She returned to her seat and waited until he picked up the cup before she sipped.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to go over to the jail,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019d like to see your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat good can you do him now?\u201d He sounded like an old, tired watchdog that was still trying to snap at intruders.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d she said honestly. \u201cBut if there\u2019s anything I can do for him, I\u2019d like to.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou could get Joe Cartwright to testify,\u201d said Tucker, and all at once, her patience reached its limit.<\/p>\n

She set down her cup and looked him squarely in the eye. \u201cTell me something. If Joe Cartwright did remember what happened, would it help your brother?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t my brother deserve that chance?\u201d Tucker shot back.<\/p>\n

Evading the question again.<\/em>\u00a0Still, his brother was about to die. Pointless though the trip would be, it was the least she could do.<\/p>\n

Anna stood. \u201cVery well, Mr. Tucker. You go over to the jail to see your brother, and I\u2019ll go out to the Ponderosa and speak with Joe Cartwright again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll go with you to the Ponderosa,\u201d Tucker began, but Anna shook her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can do that,\u201d she said. \u201cYour brother needs you with him now. I\u2019ll be back as soon as possible.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was just past noon when she drove into the yard in front of the Cartwrights\u2019 house. At her knock, Ben Cartwright opened the door. She was immediately struck by how old, how exhausted he looked. \u201cMr. Cartwright, is everything all right?\u201d she asked without preamble.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome in,\u201d said Ben. He led her over to the settee and called for Hop Sing to make some coffee. \u201cYou\u2019ll stay for lunch, won\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI really can\u2019t,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m only here because\u2014well, Marcus Tucker asked me to ask Joe one last time if he remembers anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben shook his head regretfully. \u201cJoe can\u2019t help you,\u201d he said. He recounted the night\u2019s events, adding, \u201cThe doctor sedated him pretty heavily. I don\u2019t expect him to wake up before supper time, if then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d she breathed. \u201cBut he\u2019s all right, isn\u2019t he?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs much as he can be, I suppose,\u201d said Ben.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about Hoss? Is he all right? He must be beside himself.\u201d Her eyes clouded at the thought of how the big man would be berating himself for what he\u2019d had to do.<\/p>\n

Remarkably, Ben smiled ever so slightly. \u201cThere was nothing else he could do, and he knows that,\u201d he said. \u201cHe\u2019s sitting with Joe now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d she nodded. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry to have bothered you at a time like this. I\u2019ll let the Tuckers know that Joe can\u2019t provide any more information.\u201d She rose, and Ben walked her to the door. \u201cPlease give Joe and Hoss my best,\u201d she said, taking Ben\u2019s hand. \u201cI do hope things improve soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d said Ben. \u201cYou take care of yourself now. I imagine you\u2019re having a difficult day of your own. If it helps\u2014Adam said there was nothing more you could have done.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d she said. She surprised both of them by reaching up and kissing his cheek. \u201cGoodbye,\u201d she said, moving swiftly out the door before he could say anything.<\/p>\n

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

Sunlight filtered through the green of new leaves. A cool breeze. The fresh, rich smell of mud. Birds chirping. Hoof beats pounding.<\/em><\/p>\n

Freedom from watching eyes. Solitude. Peace.<\/p>\n

Voices\u2014angry, frightened\u2014reached him before he ever saw anything less innocent than a wren. His legs squeezed the pinto as they loped up the road. They came around the curve at the top of the hill and he saw . . .<\/p>\n

. . . red . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy, Joe,\u201d came his big brother\u2019s deep, rough voice. \u201cJust take it easy.\u201d<\/p>\n

He forced his eyes open as the cool, wet cloth dabbed his face. An enormous weight seemed to have pinned his entire body to the bed. He tried to speak, but his lips and tongue felt thick and clumsy.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was just a dream,\u201d Hoss continued. \u201cYou just rest.\u201d Joe heard the slight splash of the cloth being dipped into the water, and then it rested against his face again.<\/p>\n

Joe blinked hard, but everything was blurry, as though he was looking through a cloud. He tried again to form a word. \u201cHoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s right, Joe, it\u2019s ol\u2019 Hoss.\u201d His brother\u2019s voice was a touch too hearty.<\/p>\n

\u201cWha . . . wha . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSsssh, don\u2019t you worry about nothin\u2019,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cDoc gave you some pretty powerful stuff so\u2019s you could rest real good. Just close your eyes an\u2019 go back to sleep. You got nothin\u2019 to worry about.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRed,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n

Hoss patted his shoulder. \u201cYou get some sleep now, an\u2019 I\u2019ll read to you later.\u201d<\/p>\n

No, he wanted to protest, but his eyes were already closing.<\/p>\n

. . . The buggy, black and shiny, tilted off the side of the road. The girl was arguing with the man, but her voice was high, as though she was frightened. The man was holding her, shouting in her face, saying terrible things to her. As Joe shouted for him to stop, the man\u2019s hands moved to her throat. . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI think he\u2019s still havin\u2019 bad dreams, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

A work-roughened hand rested on Joe\u2019s forehead. \u201cHas he woken up at all?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust once, for a minute, but he didn\u2019t make no sense. Keeps mumbling even in his sleep, but I can\u2019t make out what he\u2019s sayin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo on downstairs and get something to eat. Hop Sing\u2019s keeping your supper warm. I\u2019ll sit with him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe tried to force his eyes open, but his lids were impossibly heavy. \u201cPa,\u201d he murmured, but no one seemed to hear.<\/p>\n

. . . black . . . shouts . . . green . . . pleading . . . . bird songs . . . red . . . crying . . . more shouts . . .\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThink we ought to try to give him more of that medicine?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t see what good it would do. He doesn\u2019t need any more help to get to sleep. As it is, he\u2019s barely woken up since Doc left.\u201d<\/p>\n

No,<\/em>\u00a0he protested, but no one heard him.<\/p>\n

\u201cMight get him to sleep a little deeper, put the nightmares to rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think he\u2019s all right with what he\u2019s had. The nightmares just need to work themselves out of his mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . punching . . . shouting . . . \u201cyou whore!\u201d . . . her head lolling back . . . dropped . . . down . . . up . . . leaning over . . . her face white . . . eyes closed . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

And there he stood, the man in the drawing, except that there was color now. The coat was dark red, like blood. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his eyes piercing, his mouth twisted into a snarl. His hands were big, strong, powerful. Powerful enough to break a girl\u2019s neck.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s your scar?\u201d Joe demanded. \u201cShow me your scar!\u201d The man laughed. He turned full-face to Joe, and there was no scar. \u201cLet me see your scar!\u201d Joe lunged for him, but he stepped aside, and Joe fell into the mud, next to the girl\u2019s body. \u201cYou have a scar! I want to see it!\u201d But the man laughed and laughed, and a violent, sick feeling came over Joe as he realized the truth. . . .<\/p>\n

The hot, sharp taste of acid filled his mouth and overflowed, ripping him from the depths as the first rays of sun filtered through the draperies.<\/p>\n

\u201cHang on, Little Joe, I\u2019ll get that cleaned up.\u201d Adam\u2019s voice was calm as he sponged vomit off his brother\u2019s face. \u201cHere, try to sit up.\u201d He slid his arm under Joe\u2019s shoulders, and Joe clutched Adam\u2019s other arm with his good hand as he sat up. Dizzy, but after a minute he nodded, and Adam removed his arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam.\u201d Joe could hear his voice trembling.<\/p>\n

Adam stopped cleaning up. \u201cWhat is it? Are you all right?\u201d It was clear from his careful, measured tone that he expected the worst. Joe nodded, and he saw Adam brace himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam, I\u2014\u201d But he couldn\u2019t say it. He\u2019d have given anything to be able to say it last night, but he hadn\u2019t known then.<\/p>\n

Adam rested his hand on Joe\u2019s arm, the one without the bulky plaster cast. \u201cIt\u2019s okay, Joe. Just tell me what\u2019s the matter.\u201d Joe clenched his teeth to keep his chin from quivering, and Adam\u2019s voice softened. \u201cTake it easy,\u201d he said, rubbing Joe\u2019s arm the way Pa usually did. \u201cYou feeling sick again?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe took a deep breath and forced the words out. \u201cAdam\u2014I remember.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d The same controlled voice as Adam nodded for him to continue.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know what happened. Up on the high road. I remember now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s reassuring nod stilled. His hazel eyes were intent. \u201cWhat do you remember, Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe pressed his lips together to hold back the tears that suddenly threatened. Slowly, deliberately, he shook his head. Comprehension dawned in Adam\u2019s face. He peered at Joe as if to be sure, and Joe shook his head again.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Joe.\u201d The words were quiet, but Joe could hear the sorrow brimming in his brother\u2019s voice.<\/p>\n

And the two brothers turned to the dawn peeking through the window, almost as though they could hear the bang of the trapdoor on the gallows.<\/p>\n

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

She\u2019d been walking around for hours by the time she returned to her office. It wasn\u2019t the first hanging she\u2019d seen, but she would never, never get used to it. It was one of the few things that made her crave the relative safety of a big city. Say what you would about the glorious west, but in Chicago, she\u2019d never had to watch anyone die.<\/p>\n

A sunrise hanging didn\u2019t get quite so many holiday-makers, the sheriff had told her privately. \u201cWhen they do \u2019em at sunset, the whole town turns out. Folks pack a picnic, make a day of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Death as entertainment. She shuddered at the thought.<\/p>\n

Some men went to the gallows bravely, resigned to their fate, but not this one. Right up to the end, Elias Tucker sobbed that he was innocent, it wasn\u2019t fair, he didn\u2019t deserve to die, he hadn\u2019t killed this girl. Somewhere in there, he mentioned someone named Miranda Kelly, and Anna offered to contact the girl, but Marcus Tucker told her brusquely to mind her own business.<\/p>\n

As the first rays of sun peeked between the bars of the window, the sheriff and the deputy joined Anna in walking back to the cell area. Marcus Tucker had spent the night locked in the cell with his brother. It wasn\u2019t normally permitted, but Elias had been weeping and wailing so that Anna had prevailed on the sheriff to bend the rules just this once. It was little enough comfort to offer them. An odd look had crossed Marcus\u2019s face when the sheriff locked the door behind him, but Anna made herself turn away to allow the brothers a last bit of privacy.<\/p>\n

Now, the sheriff unlocked the cell. \u201cIt\u2019s time,\u201d said Roy Coffee. Elias sobbed, clinging to his brother, but Marcus Tucker met Anna\u2019s eyes, and she nodded. Marcus said something to his brother in a voice too low for the others to hear, and he nodded to the sheriff.<\/p>\n

The sheriff and the deputy bound the prisoner\u2019s hands and escorted him from his cell into the cool morning light. Anna followed, taking her place at the foot of the hastily-constructed wooden steps as they led him up. Even from this distance, she could see him shaking with fear. The hangman asked whether he wanted a hood, and a dark splotch appeared on the front of Elias\u2019s trousers.<\/p>\n

\u201cMarcus! Don\u2019t let them kill me! Marcus!\u201d His high, breathy voice sounded like that of a terrified child.<\/p>\n

She forced herself not to look around. Whatever Marcus Tucker was experiencing right now, he was entitled to his privacy.<\/p>\n

The bang of the trapdoor, the collective gasp of the crowd, and it was over.<\/p>\n

When the undertaker came forward, Anna started to speak to him, but Marcus Tucker elbowed her aside. \u201cYou\u2019ve done enough,\u201d he snapped. \u201cI\u2019ll take care of my brother now.\u201d<\/p>\n

She swallowed hard. \u201cOf course,\u201d she murmured. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, Mr. Tucker.\u201d But he ignored her, and after a minute, she turned and walked down the street, away from the jail, from her office, from anything that would remind her what had happened.<\/p>\n

She walked until the ache in her feet rivaled the ache in her heart. Up and down the steep side streets, back and forth across the broad thoroughfares, with dust blowing and horses trotting and people calling cheerily to one another as though no one had died that day.<\/p>\n

Finally, she turned back to her office. At the very least, she should let Richard know she was all right. Not that she was, she reflected. But such thoughts could wait until tonight, when she could retreat to the quiet of her own home and mourn in private.<\/p>\n

As she approached her office, her steps slowed. A buggy stood in front, and it looked familiar. If she didn\u2019t know better, she\u2019d think it was the Cartwrights\u2019 rig. She drew nearer, and her brow creased. It was their buggy. She\u2019d ridden in it dozens of times. The matched bays snorted softly as though they recognized her.<\/p>\n

She pushed open the door and stopped. Richard\u2019s office was full of people. The Cartwrights, all four of them; Joe sat in one of the wing-back chairs, a cast on his left arm resting in a black sling. Sheriff Coffee. Doc Martin. Richard.<\/p>\n

She looked around wildly. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong? What happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben Cartwright stepped forward. \u201cAnna, why don\u2019t you have a seat,\u201d he suggested. He guided her to a chair as though they were in his place instead of hers, but she let him do it.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d she demanded when no one said anything more.<\/p>\n

Sheriff Coffee cleared his throat. \u201cBen and the boys came to see me this morning,\u201d he said. \u201cSeems Little Joe remembers some of what happened the day the Gunther girl was killed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? How\u2014Joe, what\u2019s he talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe reached out his good hand and held hers. \u201cI had a dream last night\u2014but I don\u2019t think it was a dream. When I woke up this morning\u2014Anna, I know what happened up there on the high road.\u201d His eyes glistened for a moment, and he looked down at his knee as he swallowed hard. He lifted his head, and said, \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, Anna. I wish I\u2019d known earlier.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her stomach lurched. \u201cKnown what? What do you know now?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s grip on her hand tightened. \u201cThe man who killed Eleanor Gunther\u2014I didn\u2019t see a scar on him.\u201d<\/p>\n

She pulled her hand away, covering her mouth as she doubled over. She heard someone barking orders, and within moments, Richard was kneeling by her chair, wrapping her hand around a glass. \u201cDrink this,\u201d he urged. She sipped; it was water, and for the first time in her life, she wished it was whiskey.<\/p>\n

Eventually, she sat up. \u201cStart at the beginning,\u201d she ordered Joe. \u201cTell me everything, every last little detail, starting from when you left Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI took the road that winds around, up on the ridge,\u201d Joe began. \u201cFor probably about half an hour, I was alone. I never saw anything but the woods, and I never heard anything except the birds and my own horse except at one point, where some fellow rode by me like the devil himself was after him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did he look like?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t know\u2014he was going too fast.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you see his face?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shook his head. \u201cI wasn\u2019t really paying attention, to be honest.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna suppressed a sigh. \u201cGo on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen, when Cochise and I were climbing up the ridge, I could hear voices. A man and a woman. Something didn\u2019t sound right, and I rode faster. As I got closer, I could hear better\u2014not words, but she sounded scared, and he sounded angry. When I got to the top of the hill, I could see a black buggy that was half off the road. There was a man and a girl beside it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me exactly what they looked like,\u201d said Anna as she tried to control her breathing.<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. \u201cThe girl was small\u2014maybe a little bit shorter than you are. She had light brown hair and\u2014I don\u2019t remember what her dress looked like. I remember that her hair was pinned up, because when he was shaking her, a piece of it fell down.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eleanor Gunther. Anna had seen the girl\u2019s body lying on the undertaker\u2019s table. \u201cGo on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe man was tall. The girl maybe came up to his shoulder. When I was next to him, I saw that he was probably almost as tall as Hoss. He had dark brown hair and dark eyes. He wore\u2014\u201d Joe closed his eyes as if to picture the scene. \u201cHe wore a gray hat and a dark red jacket,\u201d he said finally.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat else?\u201d Anna pressed.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe looks like that picture,\u201d Joe said. \u201cNot exactly, but an awful lot.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Joe looked surprised. \u201cThe one that artist drew.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI brought it,\u201d said Ben. He handed it to Anna, who frowned.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve never seen this,\u201d she said. She thought back to the day the artist and Marcus Tucker had gone over to have the drawings made. That was the day Joe had gone to the jail to see Elias. Marcus had been incensed because they\u2019d made the trek out to the Ponderosa and Joe was gone, but he\u2019d never mentioned having left the drawing at there. In fact, he\u2019d never said another word about it, and with everything else that had happened, it had simply fallen through the cracks.<\/p>\n

She studied the drawing now. It looked only vaguely like Elias. She wondered why they would have put the hat and coat on him, and why they\u2019d have only drawn his right side. She\u2019d have expected that they would include the scar, since that was Elias\u2019s most recognizable feature.<\/p>\n

She handed the drawing to Joe. \u201cWhat about this looks the same as the man you saw on the road?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shrugged. \u201cIt\u2019s hard to say. This fellow looks like he could be the brother of that one\u2014same kind of features. This is pencil, but it looks like the artist gave him dark hair and dark eyes, and the jacket\u2019s shaded in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened next?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI shouted for him to let go of her, and I jumped off my horse. I\u2019d have tried to shoot, but I was afraid I\u2019d hit her. He was yelling at her, awful things, calling her a dirty\u2014\u201d He broke off, but Anna shook his good arm slightly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis isn\u2019t the time to be a gentleman,\u201d she said. \u201cI need to hear exactly what he said.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shot a quick glance at his father, who nodded. \u201cHe called her a dirty whore and a tramp,\u201d he said, his cheeks reddening slightly. \u201cI didn\u2019t understand some of what he was saying\u2014it sounded like he said she\u2019d let just anybody draw her. I don\u2019t know if I heard that right, but that\u2019s what it sounded like.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was his voice like?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDeep\u2014sort of like Pa\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n

Elias\u2019s voice had been high-pitched and breathy. She bit her lip. \u201cThen what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was running toward them, and his hands were on her throat. When I first saw them, he was holding her shoulders and shaking her, but then he started choking her. I was yelling, but it was like he didn\u2019t even hear me. She\u2019d been crying, begging him to stop, and she was struggling to get loose. I jumped him to try to get him to let go, but both of them fell. I punched him and he dropped her. We fought, and finally, I thought I\u2019d knocked him out. I knelt down beside her and tried to see if she was still alive. And that\u2019s the last thing I remember until I woke up at Doc Martin\u2019s office.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna reached for the drawing again. It was impossible to say that this man was or wasn\u2019t Elias. It could have been a bad drawing of Elias or a good drawing of someone else, but the man in the picture did look familiar. \u201cAre you absolutely certain you saw the man\u2019s entire face?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. \u201cHe was looking straight at me when we were fighting. I don\u2019t know where the scar was supposed to be. I knocked his hat off, so the hat couldn\u2019t have been hiding it. Would the collar of his jacket have covered it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her heart sank. \u201cNo,\u201d she said. \u201cThe entire left side of his face was scarred\u2014it was deep red, almost shiny. He was badly burned as a child.\u201d She held her hand over the left side of her face as she said, \u201cThe scar covered this entire area. You couldn\u2019t have missed it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shook his head. \u201cThen it wasn\u2019t the same man.\u201d He sounded as if he\u2019d have given anything not to be that certain.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you\u2019re sure there was nobody else around?\u201d Sheriff Coffee asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t see anybody else,\u201d said Joe. \u201cThe only other person I saw after I left Adam, other than that man and the girl, was the fellow who was riding so fast, and like I said, I didn\u2019t see his face.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dear Lord in heaven, what do I do now?<\/em>\u00a0She studied the drawing, as much to stall as for any other purpose. If only the artist had included the scar\u2014even if Joe wasn\u2019t sure what he did see, maybe he\u2019d have known what he didn\u2019t. But it was too late now.<\/p>\n

She laid the drawing on Richard\u2019s desk. \u201cAnd you just remembered everything this morning?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. \u201cI\u2019ve been trying for days\u2014I kept looking at that drawing, but I just didn\u2019t know. And then\u2014I don\u2019t know what that stuff was that Doc gave me before he set my arm, but it was almost like something that was stuck in my brain got unstuck. At first, I thought it was just a dream, but when I woke up, I knew it was the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

The doctor nodded. \u201cI can\u2019t say whether it was the drug or whether you\u2019d just healed enough,\u201d he said. \u201cObviously, I wish it had happened sooner.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe all do,\u201d Ben agreed. He turned to the sheriff. \u201cWhat happens now?\u201d<\/p>\n

Roy Coffee sighed. \u201cI reckon we gotta find somebody with a dark red jacket who looks like the fellow in the drawing,\u201d he said as he got to his feet. \u201cLittle Joe, before you leave, I need you to write down everything you said here today.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe raised his left arm with its cumbersome plaster cast. \u201cIt\u2019s okay if somebody writes it for me, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Roy rolled his eyes. \u201cAdam, can you write it down for him, and then Joe can sign it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure,\u201d said Adam. \u201cAnna, mind if we use your office?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course not.\u201d Her voice was faint enough to draw the men\u2019s attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna, are you all right?\u201d asked Richard with enough solicitude to draw a glare from Joe.<\/p>\n

She nodded. \u201cI have to tell Marcus Tucker about this.\u201d<\/p>\n

The group fell deathly silent. Then, Joe said, \u201cI\u2019ll tell him. I\u2019m the one who remembers. I\u2019ll tell him what I know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna shook her head. \u201cIt\u2019s my job,\u201d she said. \u201cI was supposed to represent his brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you did,\u201d said Richard. \u201cYou had no way of knowing any of this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not true,\u201d she said. \u201cElias told us all about the man who came along while he was kissing Eleanor Gunther. Obviously, he was telling the truth, but nobody believed him.\u201d She shook her head. \u201cAll the way to the gallows, he kept trying to tell us, and nobody listened to him, and now he\u2019s dead and the killer is free and\u2014excuse me.\u201d She pushed through the crowd and into her office, where she managed to close the door before the first sob escaped her.<\/p>\n

She doubled over as grief wracked her slender body. It was all right there, and she\u2019d missed it. She\u2019d made the arguments, but she\u2019d never really believed him. Maybe if she had, it might have been different. . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t do nothin\u2019 wrong,\u201d came a voice from behind her. She whirled, and there he stood. She opened her mouth to protest, but he drew her into his arms and held her close, and she surrendered at last to his strength.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s it,\u201d Hoss whispered, smoothing her hair. \u201cYou\u2019re all right. Just let it out.\u201d He held her, murmuring soft words of comfort as she clung to him.<\/p>\n

Finally, her weeping quieted. She patted her skirt pocket for a handkerchief, trying not to sniff too indelicately. Before she could ask, he handed her the bandana from his own pocket.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe never has a handkerchief, either,\u201d he said. He let go of her, and she wiped her face and blew her nose as quietly as she could manage.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll get this back to you,\u201d she said, but he waved her off.<\/p>\n

\u201cHop Sing\u2019s got lots of \u2019em,\u201d he said. His face was serious as his eyes met hers. \u201cYou didn\u2019t do nothin\u2019 wrong,\u201d he said again.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you know?\u201d\u00a0Please, tell me how you know,<\/em>\u00a0she begged silently.\u00a0Tell me what you know that I don\u2019t.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cBecause that\u2019s what Adam said after that trial,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cHe heard everything, an\u2019 that\u2019s what he said. And even if he hadn\u2019t, I\u2019d know it anyway\u2014because I know you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d she whispered. The anguish of the day was somehow soothed by his words.\u00a0I will always love you,<\/em>\u00a0she told him silently, but she looked away lest he still know her thoughts the way he used to. He\u2019d made his decision, and she would not make it harder for him. She would keep her heart to herself. At least she could do that much.<\/p>\n

She turned away to compose herself. When she felt she was again under control, she turned back to him. \u201cWhat do I say to Marcus Tucker?\u201d she asked. \u201cHow do I tell him that his brother died for no reason?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss shook his head. The very notion seemed to strike at such a deep place that he could barely look at her. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he said at last. He seemed about to say more, but then he said, \u201cI reckon we better be gettin\u2019 Joe home. Doc wasn\u2019t too happy that we brought him into town in the first place.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you for doing it,\u201d she said. She smoothed her dress. \u201cDo I look all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

Again, she thought he might say something, but he just nodded and opened the door, holding it for her. Barely brushing him as she passed, she whispered her thanks once more, and the two of them went back to the outer office where the others waited.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

Part 3: The truth shall make you free<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

The whoops and cheers drifted up from the corral on the summer breeze. Ben paused in his figuring, pencil resting against the column of numbers as he savored the familiar ruckus. It sounded so . . .\u00a0normal.<\/em>\u00a0If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that it was a year ago, back when it would have been Joe riding a bronc to a standstill as his brothers cheered him on. Back when Hoss would have bid his brothers farewell and left to spend the evening with Anna. Before the massacre and the fugues. Before Grayson. Before Eleanor Gunther and Elias Tucker.<\/p>\n

On an impulse, he gathered his papers and secured them under a paperweight. Within minutes, he was riding down to the corral where he\u2019d spent so many summer afternoons with his sons and the Ponderosa ranch hands. The faintest scents of pine and vanilla mingled with the dust as he trotted down to where his sons stood by the rail.<\/p>\n

His smile faded as he drew near. Adam and Hoss were waving their hats and shouting encouragement to the rider, but Joe stood motionless between his brothers. Hoss\u2019s arm was slung around Joe\u2019s shoulders in casual brotherly fashion, but his strong hand held Joe\u2019s arm securely. As Joe took a step back, Adam\u2019s hand immediately flew to the back of his brother\u2019s neck, and Hoss lowered his head to say something quietly to Joe.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019s Billy doing?\u201d Ben called as he dismounted. As he expected, Hoss and Adam turned to him, and Joe didn\u2019t appear to have heard.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s lookin\u2019 good,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cI was just sayin\u2019 to Joe that maybe once he gets that cast off, he can think about gettin\u2019 back on a horse. Right, Little Brother?\u201d He squeezed his brother\u2019s shoulders slightly, but Joe didn\u2019t seem to notice.<\/p>\n

Ben lowered his voice. \u201cHow long has he been gone?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot long,\u201d said Adam. \u201cWe figured we\u2019d see if we could wait it out.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben nodded, more in acknowledgement than acquiescence. Ever since Tucker\u2019s death, Joe\u2019s fugues and nightmares become more frequent and intense. The doctor opined that the stress of that experience, rather than the blow to the head, was affecting Joe now. \u201cNo kidding,\u201d Adam had muttered to Hoss, who\u2019d rolled his eyes.<\/p>\n

Despite his family\u2019s arguments that he couldn\u2019t have done any more, Joe maintained his belief that it was his fault an innocent man had hanged. The drawing Phelps had done was now smudged and crumpled from handling, but Joe continued to examine it every night, as intent as if he was deciphering the markings on the Rosetta Stone.<\/p>\n

The four of them had gone together into town for the trial of Timothy Phelps, the artist who had been Eleanor Gunther\u2019s secret lover. Ben, Adam and Hoss had watched anxiously as Joe took the stand and testified about the day of the girl\u2019s murder, identifying Phelps as the man in the red jacket whom he\u2019d seen choking Eleanor. Most uncharacteristically, Joe hadn\u2019t shown the slightest flash of temper when Phelps\u2019s lawyer sneered at the \u201ccoincidence\u201d of how he hadn\u2019t remembered these events prior to Elias Tucker\u2019s death. He sat in the witness chair and answered whatever was asked; when the prosecutor objected, he shrugged slightly as though it didn\u2019t matter either way. Only one question evoked any sign of emotion, and that was when the attorney asked him about the fugues.<\/p>\n

\u201cDuring Tucker\u2019s trial, I didn\u2019t know whether this was a fugue or not,\u201d Joe said. \u201cNow, I almost wish it had been.\u201d<\/p>\n

The lawyer was clearly taken aback. \u201cWhy is that?\u201d<\/p>\n

For a moment, Ben thought he saw Joe\u2019s eyes glisten. Then, Joe sat up a bit straighter and looked the lawyer dead in the eye. \u201cBecause then I wouldn\u2019t have to know the truth,\u201d he said. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t have to know that the man who already hanged for this crime was innocent and that the only reason he\u2019s dead is because I couldn\u2019t remember this man\u2019s face.\u201d He pointed to Phelps, who glowered at him from the defense table.<\/p>\n

Joe hadn\u2019t had a fugue during the trial, but on the way back to the Ponderosa that afternoon, his mind escaped into its familiar shadows until well into the night. Now, nearly every day brought at least a short fugue. Two days after the trial, Phelps was hanged. In the days that followed, Joe\u2019s nightmares had intensified, and it was becoming harder to rouse him from the terrors that plagued his sleep.<\/p>\n

But now, as the late afternoon sun glanced off the rider in the corral, he was eerily quiet. Ben took his youngest son\u2019s arm, suggesting, \u201cJoe, how about we go back up to the house?\u201d as though he expected an answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, let him stay,\u201d said Hoss unexpectedly. \u201cHe\u2019s doin\u2019 fine. Maybe bein\u2019 out here\u2019ll be good for him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s got to be better than sitting around the house,\u201d Adam agreed. He guided Joe back toward the corral as he added, \u201cHey, Joe, look\u2014Cody\u2019s going to try that chestnut.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you didn\u2019t have that cast on, you\u2019d ride \u2019im good,\u201d Hoss added, slinging a protective arm around Joe\u2019s shoulders again. His hearty grin would have convinced nearly anybody that all was right in his world, but his family could see the shadow in his eyes.<\/p>\n

Ben watched his older sons trying to engage Joe. Maybe they were right. Nothing else seemed to be working. Maybe normal life\u2014out here in the sunshine, with the horses he loved\u2014would help.<\/p>\n

He stepped back to loosen his horse\u2019s cinch as his sons returned to the rail. It wouldn\u2019t do to leave the saddle tight while they all stood around. He led his horse over to the shade of the tree where the other mounts were tied as the men cheered Cody in his battle with the chestnut.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe! Get back here!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben spun just as the chestnut scrambled to its feet, leaving its rider lying in the dust. Adam was climbing the rail, with Hoss close behind, but Joe had already darted across the corral to the fallen ranch hand. The horse bolted, bucking and racing around the corral as Joe helped the stunned rider to his feet. Just as Ben reached the fence, Cody\u2019s legs gave way and his head dropped back. Before the young man could fall, though, Joe had his arm out of the sling and he was scooping Cody up as though he weighed no more than a child.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph, stay where you are!\u201d Ben shouted. The horse was running the perimeter of the corral now. For the moment, they were as safe in the center as anywhere.<\/p>\n

Adam dropped into the corral, but the horse suddenly veered in his direction. Ben and Hoss grabbed for him, and Adam barely got himself back over the rail before the horse slammed its massive body into the wood as though trying to tear the saddle from its back. Still bucking and rearing, the horse galloped around the corral again as two of the hands dropped in with lassos.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow!\u201d Ben shouted. He couldn\u2019t have said whether Joe had heard him, but Joe ran for the rail, still carrying Cody. The ranch hand\u2019s hat fell to the ground, trampled moments later as the horse thundered past. Then, Joe was at the rail and men were reaching for Cody. Hoss grabbed for Joe, hauling him up, and Joe scrambled over the top rail as his big brother pulled him to safety while the others laid Cody on the ground.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he okay?\u201d Adam demanded as his father knelt over the young ranch hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s coming around,\u201d said Ben. He accepted a canteen from one of the hands and poured water onto a bandana, pressing it lightly against the young man\u2019s face as his eyes fluttered open. \u201cHow do you feel, boy?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n

Cody blinked hard. \u201cOkay,\u201d he managed. \u201cBad landing, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess,\u201d said Ben drily. \u201cCan you sit up?\u201d Cody blinked again, and Hoss squatted beside him, supporting him as he sat up. The big man withdrew his hand, and after a few moments, Cody nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss, get him back to the bunkhouse and make sure he\u2019s all right.\u201d Ben sat back on his heels as his middle son helped Cody to his feet. \u201cWhere\u2019s Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m right here.\u201d<\/p>\n

At the sound of his son\u2019s voice, Ben\u2019s head snapped around. \u201cYou\u2019re back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Still breathing hard, Joe wiped his mouth with the back of his uncasted hand as he nodded. \u201cI\u2019m back.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was on the tip of Ben\u2019s tongue to ask when Joe had returned from his fugue\u2014before he ran into the corral or after he\u2019d delivered Cody to them, or sometime in between\u2014but something stopped him. Maybe it was the dark look in Joe\u2019s eyes, the look that said that even though he\u2019d rescued this one, it wasn\u2019t enough. There were so many others he hadn\u2019t rescued. . . .<\/p>\n

Instead, he focused on the casted arm that Joe was gingerly replacing in its sling. \u201cYour arm all right?\u201d he demanded as his son winced.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh? Yeah, I\u2019m fine.\u201d Joe looked away hastily as he adjusted the sling.<\/p>\n

Fine, my foot,<\/em>\u00a0Ben snorted inwardly. He stood and clapped his hand on his youngest son\u2019s shoulder. \u201cGood job,\u201d was all he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor a damned fool,\u201d Adam added. \u201cNext time, let somebody go who\u2019s got two good arms.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shrugged. \u201cNext time, don\u2019t be so slow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben chuckled. \u201cAll right, you two,\u201d he said. Behind them, he could see that the hands had secured the chestnut. \u201cMight as well get on up to the house. Hop Sing\u2019ll have supper ready soon.\u201d\u00a0And a drink before supper might make that arm feel a little better,<\/em>\u00a0he reflected. He was about to suggest it when he saw his son cast a longing glance toward the edge of the meadow. An ache swelled inside Ben then that no alcohol could have eased, because he knew that if things had been different, he\u2019d have heard, \u201cYou go on, Pa. I feel like riding,\u201d just before a lithe young man swung onto a flashy black and white pinto and raced toward the horizon.<\/p>\n

But things weren\u2019t different, and Joe simply nodded as they tightened their cinches and mounted up.<\/p>\n

None of them saw the man on the horse up on the hill, hidden in the shadow of the pines or heard the words that had become his creed over the past two weeks.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll pay, Cartwright,\u201d the man said aloud. \u201cOn my brother\u2019s grave, you\u2019ll pay.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

The bottle was half-empty when the knock came. Only slightly unsteady, Marcus rose and crossed the room. With one hand pressed against the closed door and the other on his gun, he demanded, \u201cWho is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEdwards.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus opened the door and stepped back to let the other man enter, closing the door firmly after his visitor. \u201cWell?\u201d<\/p>\n

Edwards eyed the bottle on the table. When nothing was offered, he said, \u201cI could use a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTalk first.\u201d<\/p>\n

Edwards pulled a chair from the table and turned it around so that he sat with his arms resting on its back. \u201cSaw the fellow with the cast come out for a few minutes this morning, but we couldn\u2019t get a clean shot. Carson and Watson are watching the house in case he goes out again,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn\u2019t go out to the barn or anything?\u201d<\/p>\n

Edwards shook his head. \u201cJust that one time this morning,\u201d he said. \u201cAn\u2019 there was a group of fellows around then, so we couldn\u2019t take the chance.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus snorted in disgust. \u201cWhat\u2019s he doing? Hiding from us?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t see how, since he don\u2019t know we\u2019re there,\u201d Edwards shrugged. \u201cMebbe he just had work to do in the house.\u201d He cast a meaningful look at the bottle, and Marcus snapped, \u201cGo ahead.\u201d Edwards poured himself a drink and tossed it back, smacking his lips.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s another thing,\u201d the red-haired man said as he set the glass on the table. \u201cIn order to stay out of sight, we\u2019ve got to be a fair ways off from the house. Makes it hard to get a good shot even if he came out alone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you saying?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly that we might have a better chance if we didn\u2019t try to get him there. There\u2019s some places along the Virginia City road where we could hide. He\u2019d never knew what hit him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus considered this as he poured himself another drink. He hesitated only briefly before pouring Edwards another. \u201cAs far as I know, he hasn\u2019t been to town since the trial,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWonder if his people are keeping him on their big, fancy ranch for a reason,\u201d Edwards suggested. \u201cMebbe they figure you\u2019re going to try something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019d have to be idiots to think anything else,\u201d said Marcus. Then, a smile spread over his face. \u201cWhich means that we need to do this in a way they won\u2019t expect\u2014and I think I\u2019ve got an idea.\u201d He licked his thin lips in anticipation. \u201cHere\u2019s what we\u2019re going to do. You and Carson and Watson are going to keep up the watch. If Cartwright leaves the ranch to come into town, let me know.\u201d He settled himself into his chair and poured another round. \u201cThey wanted justice\u2014I\u2019ll give them justice.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus lifted his glass in a toast. \u201cHere\u2019s to justice Joe Cartwright won\u2019t ever forget\u2014at least, not for as long as he lives.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Ben\u2019s pen stilled as he cast another surreptitious glance at the young man dozing on the settee.\u00a0Leave him be,<\/em>\u00a0he counseled himself.<\/p>\n

But the tension that haunted Joe\u2019s face, even in sleep, could not be so easily ignored.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d managed to answer Joe\u2019s questions without revealing everything, although at times he felt as though he were walking the fine edge of half a dozen lies. Yes, it had been a bad night. Yes, Joe had had a nightmare. Yes, Adam, who\u2019d shared Joe\u2019s room last night\u2014sentry duty,<\/em>\u00a0as Joe called it\u2014had had difficulty wakening him. Yes, they\u2019d ended up having to sedate Joe. Again.<\/p>\n

The rest Joe would see for himself when Adam came in.<\/p>\n

Ben had offered Adam the choice of staying around the house today, but his eldest son was adamant. There was work to be done, and with Joe in no shape to help, they couldn\u2019t afford to have an extra man down. Besides, Adam had assured him, he was fine. Just a few bruises, nothing more. The cast had kept Joe from getting a good grip.<\/p>\n

Ben laid down his pen, closing his eyes at the memory. Doc had given them a sedative to use when they absolutely couldn\u2019t bring him out of the nightmare, and they\u2019d resorted to it last night, with Hoss pinning Joe down as Ben forced the spoon between his lips and Adam gasped for breath. The medicine left Joe with a violent hangover, worse than any night on the town had ever produced, but the doctor insisted that it was far safer than the alternative of simply knocking Joe out with a punch.<\/p>\n

At the sound of stirring, Ben opened his eyes to find his youngest son squinting at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou okay, Pa?\u201d Joe rubbed his eyes with his uncasted hand.<\/p>\n

Ben smiled at his son\u2019s solicitousness. \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d he assured him. \u201cHow about you?\u201d<\/p>\n

In one startling instant, Joe\u2019s expression changed from the sweet, concerned son Ben had always known to the hard glare of a man who wanted to punch someone, anyone. \u201cPa, do me a favor,\u201d he said, his voice suddenly tight. \u201cAsk me something else.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Ben wasn\u2019t sure he\u2019d heard right.<\/p>\n

\u201cAsk me about something else.\u201d He didn\u2019t sound quite steady. \u201cThe weather. The grazing in the west pasture. Anything but how I\u2019m doing.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben rose. \u201cJoe, what\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease. Just\u2014ask me something normal.\u201d The young man was clinging to the back of the settee as he struggled to sit up.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right,\u201d said Ben. He watched intently as his son shifted his legs off the settee. In the most casual tone he could manage, he asked, \u201cHow\u2019s the grazing in the west pasture?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlmost done.\u201d Joe\u2019s breathing was ragged. \u201cThey\u2019re starting to stray. When Hoss and I were up there the other day\u2014\u201d He broke off, his hand pressed against his mouth, his eyes closed as he doubled over.<\/p>\n

\u201cHop Sing! We need some water!\u201d Ben called as he crossed the room. He sat on the table, his hand on Joe\u2019s uncasted arm. \u201cDeep breaths, that\u2019s it. Hang on, you\u2019re all right.\u201d He rubbed Joe\u2019s arm as Hop Sing hustled in with a glass of water and a frown. Ben accepted the glass with a nod of thanks, pressing it into Joe\u2019s hand and waiting as Joe managed a sip. For several minutes, there was no sound except Joe\u2019s rough breathing as he battled the nausea that was part of the medicine\u2019s aftermath.<\/p>\n

Finally, Joe lifted his head. He drank a bit more and set the glass on the table next to his father. \u201cI\u2019m going outside,\u201d he said. \u201cGet some fresh air.\u201d He stood, but almost at once, he lost his balance, catching himself on Ben\u2019s shoulder. \u201cI\u2019m all right,\u201d he announced before Ben could ask.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, why don\u2019t you\u2014\u201d Ben began.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I want to go outside.\u201d Joe wasn\u2019t snapping, but he was close. He straightened, staggering only slightly before he gained his balance. He seemed about to speak when the front door opened and Adam and Hoss came in.<\/p>\n

The older Cartwright brothers were windblown and ruddy. As they hung up their hats and unbuckled their gunbelts, Ben caught his breath. He\u2019d forgotten what Adam had put on that morning to cover most of the bruises.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, look who\u2019s up!\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice was too hearty, and Ben cringed inwardly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I\u2019m up,\u201d said Joe. He frowned slightly at the bruise on Adam\u2019s jaw; then, understanding dawned, and his gaze darkened. \u201cWhat did I do?\u201d he finally asked aloud.<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing to worry about,\u201d said Adam, looking away.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re lying.\u201d Suddenly, there was anger in Joe\u2019s voice. \u201cWhat did I do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it easy, Little Brother,\u201d said Hoss, stepping forward as Joe moved toward Adam.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, I said don\u2019t worry about it.\u201d There was an edge of iron in Adam\u2019s voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have a right to know,\u201d said Joe. \u201cWhat did\u2014\u201d And then, he saw it, and his voice faded.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t we all sit down,\u201d suggested Ben, desperation tightening his voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy are you wearing a neckcloth?\u201d The question was barely more than a whisper.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, sit down,\u201d said Adam gently.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou haven\u2019t worn a neckcloth in years. Why now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m allowed to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it off.\u201d The words were rigid.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou take it off, or I\u2019ll do it for you.\u201d Joe reached for his brother\u2019s throat, and Adam\u2019s flinch told him all he needed to know. \u201cTake it off,\u201d he whispered, his voice trembling now.<\/p>\n

Slowly, his eyes not leaving his youngest brother\u2019s, Adam loosened the knot. When Joe didn\u2019t move, he separated the ends. Finally, when he could delay no longer, he slid the cloth from his neck and stood before his brother.<\/p>\n

Almost in wonder, Joe reached out to touch the bruises on his brother\u2019s throat. His fingers slid lightly into the same position as they had the night before, each resting on the marks they had left. He raised his casted hand to the other side, where one large bruise bore evidence to the pressure of plaster against flesh.<\/p>\n

For an unending moment, the men stood silently. Joe opened his mouth, but no words came now.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay, Joe.\u201d Adam\u2019s words were quiet and sure.<\/p>\n

Like a bird startled into sudden terrified flight, Joe yanked his hands away from his brother\u2019s neck. Before the others could move, he ran out the door, swung into the saddle of the nearest horse and was galloping away.<\/p>\n

It was well past dark when Ben came upon him. It occurred to him to wonder how long Joe had sat still in this spot by the lake, hidden in the brush, and how much longer he\u2019d have stayed there if Ben hadn\u2019t stopped for a drink. But he had stopped, and he\u2019d seen the horse, white stockings catching the moonlight.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve been looking for you for hours,\u201d he said, allowing reproach to creep into his voice.<\/p>\n

Joe didn\u2019t look away from the sparkle of moonlight on the water. \u201cI\u2019ve made up my mind. I\u2019m going away.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben squatted beside his son, steadying himself with a hand on Joe\u2019s shoulder. \u201cJoe, what are you talking about? Going where?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust away.\u201d He didn\u2019t meet his father\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t leave,\u201d said Ben. \u201cWhat if you were someplace else, all alone, and you went into a fugue? You can\u2019t do it. It\u2019s not safe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing\u2019s safe,\u201d said Joe. \u201cBut if I leave\u2014at least then, you\u2019ll be safe\u2014you and Adam and Hoss and Hop Sing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, you\u2019re being ridiculous.\u201d Ben forced himself to sound stern. \u201cNow, come back to the house and let\u2019s talk about all this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s nothing to talk about,\u201d said Joe, his voice tinged with desperation. \u201cI almost shot you. I nearly strangled Adam. How many more times do you think something like that can happen before it stops being \u2018almost\u2019?\u201d At last, he turned from the lake to face his father. Even in the moonlight, the anguish in his eyes was clear. \u201cPa, you\u2019ve got to face it,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m not getting any better. I need to go away before I do something\u2014something that isn\u2019t \u2018almost.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t let you leave,\u201d said Ben. \u201cNot now. Not with things the way they are.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe turned back to the lake as though the answer could be found in the moonlight that sparkled on the gentle waves. \u201cI\u2019m a grown man, Pa,\u201d he said, his voice weary. \u201cIt\u2019s not up to you to \u2018let\u2019 me leave.\u201d His shoulders slumped, and he sounded as sad as his father had ever heard him.<\/p>\n

Ben swallowed hard. Everything Joe said was true, but it didn\u2019t change anything. He wouldn\u2019t\u2014he couldn\u2019t\u2014allow his son leave now. If he did, it would only be a matter of time before they\u2019d get a telegram from a sheriff somewhere, saying that he was sorry to inform them, but. . . .<\/p>\n

He shook his head to extinguish the thought. \u201cJoe, come home,\u201d he said. \u201cWe\u2019ll figure this out together.\u201d He waited, and when his son made no response, he said simply, \u201cPlease.\u201d He watched, pleading silently, as his son wrestled with options that offered no real choice at all.<\/p>\n

At the sound of hoof beats, Joe lifted his head. \u201cIt\u2019s your brothers,\u201d Ben said. He cupped his hand around the back of Joe\u2019s neck and resisted the urge to promise that everything would be all right. He had no way of knowing what would come; he knew only that, one way or another, they would face it together. \u201cCome on,\u201d he said. \u201cLet\u2019s go home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll come for now,\u201d said Joe. \u201cBut I can\u2019t stay.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sound of Hoss\u2019s deep voice shouting Joe\u2019s name saved him from having to answer. Instead, Ben called out, \u201cWe\u2019re down here.\u201d Slowly, his knees creaking, he got to his feet and leaned down to offer Joe a hand. In the last minute before Adam and Hoss rode into the clearing, he saw again the determination, the resolve, the anguish in his youngest son\u2019s eyes, and he heard Joe\u2019s words, now barely audible over the hoof beats and shouts.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust for now.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cAnna? Are you ready to go?\u201d<\/p>\n

Richard was poking his head into her office as she looked up. \u201cSorry,\u201d she said. \u201cI guess I just got caught up in this file.\u201d She managed a smile, and Richard\u2019s responsive grin told her that she\u2019d done a decent enough job.<\/p>\n

She closed the file and rose before he could ask what was so compelling that she\u2019d been distracted from their dinner plans. The truth was that there was nothing on her desk these days that drew her in, that occupied her mind, that even held her attention for longer than a few minutes at a time. Which wouldn\u2019t have been so bad, except that she\u2019d have paid good money for something\u2014anything\u2014to draw her attention away from the rest of her life.<\/p>\n

She\u2019d sat in the back of the courtroom during Timothy Phelps\u2019s trial. Mortimer DeWitt was a competent enough defense lawyer, but with Joe Cartwright\u2019s testimony, there was nothing anyone could have done. She\u2019d slipped out of the courthouse before the Cartwrights saw her, but then she\u2019d stood in the alley and watched as they climbed into their buggy and drove away. Two mornings later, she\u2019d stood in the shadows of that same alley, watching the first rays of sun glint off Timothy Phelps\u2019s dark hair as the hangman fitted the noose around his neck.<\/p>\n

Justice had finally been done for Eleanor Gunther.<\/p>\n

The fact that no justice was available for Elias Tucker . . . well, that was something that didn\u2019t seem to bother anybody except his lawyer.<\/p>\n

She hadn\u2019t seen Marcus Tucker in days. He, too, had attended the Phelps trial, but if he\u2019d seen her, he hadn\u2019t let on. She\u2019d watched for him at the hanging, but he\u2019d been conspicuously absent. She wondered now if he\u2019d left town. Surely, there was nothing to keep him here now.<\/p>\n

Richard was holding out her blue wrap. A frisson of pain shot through her at the sight of Hoss\u2019s gift in another man\u2019s hands, and she looked away under the guise of straightening a stack of papers. Hoss had made his feelings quite clear, and the sooner she accepted that and moved on, the better off they\u2019d all be.<\/p>\n

Anna raised her head with a determined smile. \u201cWhere are were going?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought Pierre\u2019s,\u201d said Richard.<\/p>\n

Pierre\u2019s. The first place they\u2019d gone in this town. She forced herself to hang onto her smile as he draped the wrap around her shoulders and offered his arm. She nodded as she took it, trying not to notice that although Richard\u2019s arm was lean under his suitcoat, the muscles were soft by comparison to Hoss\u2019s strong, sturdy arms.<\/p>\n

Stop it,<\/em>\u00a0she commanded herself. Deliberately, she smiled up at Richard. He was such a handsome man, and so intelligent, so kind. Any woman would be a fool not to be thrilled at his attentions. Anna couldn\u2019t begin to count the number of times she\u2019d seen young ladies slowing as they walked past the office, clearly hoping to catch a glimpse of the dashing lawyer.<\/p>\n

And here she was, getting him on a silver platter, and all she could think of was the man who\u2019d walked away. Well, no more. If Hoss Cartwright could move on, then so could Anna Simmons.<\/p>\n

As they enjoyed a bottle of red wine and three delectable courses, she did her best to charm and be charmed. She laughed at his stories and smiled modestly when he did the same with hers. She glanced at him from beneath her lashes as he refilled her wineglass. She allowed a dimple to flash when his hand brushed hers.<\/p>\n

The waiter whisked away their dinner plates and brought the salad. The notion of a plate of chopped vegetables was quite unheard-of in Virginia City, save for restaurants such as Pierre\u2019s. She savored the light tang of the dressing on the crisp lettuce and crunchy carrots that she knew Pierre grew in his own garden. Across from her, Richard seemed to enjoy his salad, and for a moment, she recalled dinner parties in Chicago where the hostesses had made such a point of noting that following a main course with a salad was quite fashionable in Europe.<\/p>\n

As she speared a piece of cucumber, it occurred to her that a visit to Chicago might be nice. She hadn\u2019t seen Henry in far too long. There was still enough time to make such a trip and return before the snows started\u2014if, in fact, she was planning to return to Virginia City.<\/p>\n

The thought startled her almost as though someone had said it aloud. She hadn\u2019t even realized that she was thinking it, but now she knew that the idea had been in the back of her mind since the day she\u2019d walked into her office to find Joe Cartwright sitting there, his arm in a sling and his eyes dark with sorrow. There was nothing holding her here now, and perhaps she\u2019d be better off if she got herself away from Hoss\u2019s world. Perhaps then, she could begin to forget him.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna, will you marry me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI beg your pardon?\u201d Stunned, Anna pulled her thoughts back to the dinner table. Richard\u2019s right hand rested on her left one. Hastily, she drew her hand away as she set down the fork she still held in her other hand. \u201cYou\u2019re proposing to me?\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes were serious. \u201cOf course, I\u2019m proposing,\u201d he said. \u201cI love you, Anna. I always have. Why do you think I came all the way out here, anyway? What sane man would leave a city like Chicago for this\u2014this untamed wilderness\u2014unless he was in love?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I thought\u2014I mean, you never\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled. \u201cI realized when I arrived that you and Hoss Cartwright were still in the middle of something,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m not the kind of man to interfere, but when I saw that you two were having . . . difficulties\u2014well, I decided to wait and see. I remember how things went after your marriage ended\u2014you spent a fair bit of time nursing your wounds, and you rejected every man anyone introduced to you\u2014so I knew better than to try to rush you this time. But whatever you had with Cartwright is clearly over, and I\u2019m not foolish enough to sit by while another man steps in. I made that mistake once, and I don\u2019t plan to do it again. So, Anna Simmons, I\u2019m asking you: will you marry me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought\u2014you said you were coming out here because you were tired of the city.\u201d She still couldn\u2019t quite grasp what he was saying.<\/p>\n

Richard smiled. \u201cYou would only have believed such a preposterous statement if you wanted to,\u201d he said, his eyes twinkling. \u201cNo one could ever tire of a city like Chicago. It would be like tiring of New York or Boston. Virginia City\u2014which, I\u2019m sorry, is simply not a city\u2014holds only one charm for me, and that charm, dear Anna, is you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She drained her wineglass in an unladylike gulp. \u201cRichard, I had no idea,\u201d she said. \u201cTruly I didn\u2019t. If I\u2019d known what you were thinking, I would never have let you come.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s because you were being courted by Cartwright,\u201d he reminded her as though she could possibly have forgotten. \u201cThings have changed.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna reached for her wineglass again, but it was empty. \u201cI don\u2019t\u2014I\u2014I need to think about this,\u201d she managed. \u201cI\u2019m immensely flattered, but as you say, things with Hoss have only recently ended, and with everything that\u2019s gone on lately with Tucker, I\u2019m\u2014well, I\u2019m quite distracted, and I don\u2019t think it\u2019s fair to you if I answer you while I\u2019m in this state.\u201d She watched the light fade from his eyes, and she reached over to place her hand on his. \u201cI need time, Richard,\u201d she said gently. \u201cI simply can\u2019t answer you now. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded. \u201cAt least you didn\u2019t say \u2018no,\u2019\u201d he said, and his attempt at levity made her heart ache. He was a good friend, and she had hurt him, but she had no choice.<\/p>\n

You can\u2019t marry him because you feel guilty about not loving him,<\/em>\u00a0she told herself firmly as the waiter who had hovered in the doorway brought coffee and small plates bearing flaky pastries.<\/p>\n

Then again, maybe marrying a friend was best. Her mother had always said to marry her best friend. With her real best friends, Hoss and Henry, both unavailable, Richard might be a very reasonable choice. At least he understood the demands of her profession. He was probably the only man she knew who wouldn\u2019t think she should give up her practice to stay home and raise his children.<\/p>\n

She smiled and thanked him as he handed her the cream and sugar without needing to inquire whether she took them. A handsome, well-to-do, intelligent man who loved her and respected her profession. She could do worse. Perhaps she should think seriously about his proposal.<\/p>\n

She spooned sugar into her cup and added just enough cream to make the coffee light brown. She forced away the thought that her coffee was exactly the same color as Hoss\u2019s hair. She had other matters to focus on now.<\/p>\n

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

Joe paused in the act of tucking his brushes into his saddlebag. Alert, he listened as hard as he could, barely breathing lest he miss a footfall outside his door.<\/p>\n

After a long minute, he exhaled softly. Nothing. No one was up.<\/p>\n

It was best this way. Someday, they\u2019d realize that. They couldn\u2019t possibly think that they should have to live like this. It wasn\u2019t their fault, not a shred of it. They were victims, just as surely as Mary Ann Sawyer and Smitty and old Mr. Ziegler had been. As surely as Eleanor Gunther and Elias Tucker. Victims all, with one common thread: Joe Cartwright, who caused all their grief and managed to save his own worthless hide while they all suffered and died.<\/p>\n

He peered out the window into the darkness. About two hours to sunup. By the time they figured out he was gone, three hours. Not much of a headstart, but it would have to do.<\/p>\n

Clumsily, he pulled on his boots. His left arm was still encased in plaster, and it would be a chore to manage until he could break it off, but there was no choice. A broken arm hadn\u2019t kept him from strangling Adam. It wouldn\u2019t keep him from using a knife on Pa, or a gun on Hoss, or a cast iron skillet on Hop Sing.<\/p>\n

He rubbed the rough plaster reflectively. He\u2019d seen Hoss looking at the cast with guilt and regret, and it was all he could do not to tell his big brother what a fool he was. Joe didn\u2019t resent the broken arm; he was grateful for it. Hoss hadn\u2019t just saved their pa that night. He\u2019d saved Joe, too. It was bad enough that Joe had once struck Pa during a nightmare. He\u2019d never forgive himself for that, but that was nothing compared to what he might have done with a weapon in hand. Nightmare be damned\u2014if he\u2019d shot his father, there was no question that one day, he\u2019d have put a bullet through his own brain.<\/p>\n

He tied his saddlebag closed\u2014awkwardly, but he got the job done. He ignored the pang as he blew out the lamp and eased open his bedroom door. If this was what he had to do to keep his family safe, then so be it.<\/p>\n

He moved down the hall as silently as he used to once upon a time, when he was sneaking in late at night. Back in the old days, when his biggest problems revolved around girls and poker. When life was full of sunshine and laughter and good horses galloping across meadows with their manes and tails streaming behind. When sleep was peaceful and morning\u2019s light held no terrible surprises. When summer meant long days of hard work, with sweat trickling down his back and making the dust into rivulets of dirt, and day\u2019s end meant flinging himself into the still-cold water of the lake and reveling in its crisp, clear baptism.<\/p>\n

The lost sweet time of his life when he never had to dread hearing what he\u2019d done while his mind was missing.<\/p>\n

Noiselessly, he made his way down the stairs and over to the credenza. He managed to buckle his gunbelt and turned it around so that his gun was on his right. Not ideal, but it would have to do. He pulled on his jacket and looked around the main room one last time.<\/p>\n

Even in the dark, he knew it so well. He\u2019d lived his entire life here. He\u2019d always expected that he would get married in this room, that he and his wife would bring the children to visit their grandpa here, that the Cartwright family would continue to gather here for years to come. But that dream, like so many others, had died in the dust as savages whooped and shrieked and knelt on his back and yanked his head up by the hair, a knife blade pressed against his throat so that he could feel his own blood trickling down his neck while their cohorts chopped off an old man\u2019s feet, laughing at the man\u2019s agonized screams and taunting him to try to run away now. . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d Joe whispered fiercely. If he started thinking, started remembering, he\u2019d never go. His family would find him standing here in a fugue. They\u2019d know what he\u2019d meant to do. They would find a way to stop him, and they would sentence themselves to serve forever as his keepers. The only way to free them was to get away before they knew what was happening.<\/p>\n

He jammed his hat on his head, took up his saddlebags, and unbolted the door. Without a backward glance, he slipped outside, pulling the door soundlessly closed. He drew a deep breath and headed for the barn where his horse would never notice the tears on his cheeks.<\/p>\n

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

Sometimes,<\/em>\u00a0Marcus Tucker reflected,\u00a0things just work out right.<\/em><\/p>\n

He strolled into the saloon and ordered a whiskey. He wasn\u2019t normally much for drinking with a bunch of loudmouths, but today, he wanted to hear what they\u2019d have to say.<\/p>\n

It was almost too easy. After nearly two weeks of watching the Cartwrights\u2019 ranch house to see whether Joe Cartwright might be coming to town, he\u2019d stepped out of the hotel this morning to see Adam Cartwright racing past him as though his horse\u2019s tail was on fire. He watched with growing curiosity as Cartwright reined in his horse in front of the sheriff\u2019s office, leaping to the ground almost before the animal was stopped. The dark-haired man ran into the office and almost immediately, he ran back out. For a moment, he stood on the rough board sidewalk, peering first down the street and then back up. Then, he\u2019d spotted the man he sought.<\/p>\n

\u201cRoy!\u201d Cartwright shouted, waving as he dashed across the street, barely avoiding a collision with a buggy.<\/p>\n

The grizzled sheriff turned as Cartwright called, \u201cHave you seen Little Joe this morning?\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus immediately slipped across their side of the street, strolling toward the two men without seeming to notice them. He pretended to study the contents of the general store\u2019s window, just a few short yards from where the sheriff and Cartwright discussed a most interesting development.<\/p>\n

It seemed that the Cartwrights had arisen that morning to find that Joe was missing and his horse wasn\u2019t in the barn. Most of his clothes and personal items were also gone, so it was clear he hadn\u2019t just gotten an early start on work. Joe Cartwright had even said something to their father recently about going away, although apparently, he hadn\u2019t said where.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss is heading out toward Placerville,\u201d Adam Cartwright said. \u201cPa\u2019s got hands going all over the Ponderosa. If he\u2019s not in Virginia City, I\u2019m going to head down to Carson City.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m mighty sorry, Adam, but I ain\u2019t seen him since the Phelps trial,\u201d said the sheriff. \u201cI\u2019ll tell you what, though. I\u2019ll keep my eyes open, an\u2019 if I see him, I\u2019ll send word out to the Ponderosa. Will anybody be there?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam shook his head. \u201cHop Sing\u2019s in San Francisco visiting relatives, and everybody else is looking for Joe. Even so, if you find out anything, it\u2019d be helpful even if you just left a note.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll do that,\u201d promised the sheriff. Marcus feigned interest in the jars of penny candy on display as Adam Cartwright headed down the sidewalk, presumably to see whether his brother might be found in a saloon.<\/p>\n

By the time the eldest Cartwright brother had given up and ridden out of town, Marcus had his plan ready for execution. He sauntered down the sidewalk as though he had all the time in the world. When he reached the law offices of Simmons and Palmer, he paused. Good: Richard Palmer was sitting at the desk in the front office. Hopefully, Miss Simmons was in her office as well. If not, he could still make this work.<\/p>\n

He arranged his features in a reasonably pleasant expression and opened the door. \u201cGood morning, Mr. Palmer,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, Mr. Tucker,\u201d said Palmer, rising and extending his hand. \u201cWhat can we do for you today?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d like to speak with Miss Simmons if she has a moment,\u201d said Marcus. He shook the man\u2019s hand, fighting down a momentary surge of excitement. It wouldn\u2019t do to look as though he knew anything unusual was about to transpire.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d said Palmer. He moved from behind his desk to the closed door and tapped lightly before opening it. \u201cAnna, Mr. Tucker is here to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus couldn\u2019t hear what she said, but within moments, she appeared in the doorway. \u201cMr. Tucker,\u201d she said. \u201cWon\u2019t you come in?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, Miss Simmons,\u201d said Tucker. He followed her into her office. When she did not close the door, he said, \u201cWould you mind. . . ?\u201d as he pushed it closed.<\/p>\n

She offered him a seat and took her own. \u201cWhat can I do for you, Mr. Tucker?\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus began to spin a convoluted story about a land deal that had run into problems. He knew that he wasn\u2019t quite making sense, but it was difficult to talk and listen at the same time. Finally, he heard the door to the street open and low voices in the outer office. He pretended to sneeze, and as he reached for his handkerchief, he heard Palmer asking something and the other man responding. Hastily, he continued, \u201cAnd so I was wondering whether it might be possible to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

The gunshot in the outer office cut him off. Splendid. The horror on her face\u2014just as it should be. Marcus jumped to his feet and ran out, shoving his chair back so that it would block her path to the door and slow her down just a bit. He ran into the outer office to see Palmer slumped over his desk, blood seeping into the papers he would never read again. Excellent. Just one more thing. . . .<\/p>\n

Marcus ran to the outer door and yanked it open. \u201cStop!\u201d he shouted. \u201cStop!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRichard!\u201d Marcus turned back in time to see Anna lift Palmer\u2019s head. At the sight of the wet red bullet hole in the middle of his forehead, she screamed in a manner befitting one who had lived a pampered existence in which murder was something that happened to other people. \u201cRichard!\u201d<\/p>\n

It seemed only moments before the office was filled with people. A small man with a white monk\u2019s tonsure and mustache held smelling salts in front of Anna\u2019s nose as she slumped in one of the armchairs. The deputy dispatched a boy to the undertaker\u2019s. And the sheriff . . . ah, the sheriff. He strode in as though it was his office and demanded, \u201cDid anybody see what happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus stepped forward. \u201cI didn\u2019t see the shooting, but I saw the man who did it running away.\u201d He savored the silence. Everyone was waiting for Marcus Tucker. The power of life and death now rested with him. His words would put the noose around a man\u2019s neck.<\/p>\n

Well?\u201d the sheriff when Marcus didn\u2019t continue. \u201cWho was it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus looked at the distraught woman, the blood-stained desk, the body that was being carted away, the crowd that had gathered. In a clear voice designed to carry, he made his statement.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe man who shot Richard Palmer was . . . Joe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

The gasp of the crowd was eminently satisfying. Strangely, though, the sheriff looked unconvinced. Marcus supposed it was what came of having law enforcement living hand-in-glove with the most powerful family in the territory. Still, it was nothing he couldn\u2019t handle.<\/p>\n

The sheriff shooed everyone out of the office and turned back to Marcus. \u201cNow, you tell me jest exactly what happened,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Marcus sat back, pleased. \u201cI was in Miss Simmons\u2019s office when I heard someone come in,\u201d he said. \u201cI heard two men talking\u2014one of them, obviously, was Mr. Palmer. Then, the gun went off. I ran out here and looked out the door, and I saw Joe Cartwright running away.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you see his face?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, no\u2014I saw him from the back. But it was him. I know it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was he wearing?\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus shrugged slightly. \u201cRegular clothes. Nothing special.\u201d He saw the sheriff shoot a quick glance at Anna Simmons, and he added, \u201cI\u2019m sure it was him. Medium height, slim, brown hair.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDescribes a lot of men,\u201d said the sheriff dubiously.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was Cartwright,\u201d Marcus insisted. \u201cDon\u2019t you think I know what he looks like by now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI reckon you know his face,\u201d said the sheriff. \u201cTell me this: what did he say to Palmer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said Marcus. \u201cI heard the two of them talking, but I couldn\u2019t make out words.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut they had a conversation?\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus rolled his eyes in exasperation. \u201cBriefly, but yes, they had a conversation.\u201d He decided to reveal one of the critical pieces of information. He hadn\u2019t wanted to do it this soon, but if he was going to get the sheriff to believe him, he needed it now. \u201cIt could have been about how Palmer and Miss Simmons were going to get married,\u201d he offered.<\/p>\n

The surprise on the sheriff\u2019s face was worth the revelation. \u201cHow\u2019d you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Because I\u2019ve had men following Palmer for two weeks,<\/em>\u00a0Marcus thought. \u201cA friend of mine works at Pierre\u2019s,\u201d he prevaricated. \u201cPalmer proposed four nights ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat so?\u201d the sheriff asked Anna, who nodded. To Marcus, he said, \u201cAnd you think Joe Cartwright up and killed Palmer in cold blood because him and Miss Simmons got engaged?\u201d<\/p>\n

The skepticism in the sheriff\u2019s voice was just a hair too annoying. Marcus played his ace: \u201cWouldn\u2019t have been cold blood if he was in a fugue, would it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Something in the sheriff\u2019s face changed then. Marcus couldn\u2019t have said what it was, but Roy Coffee looked like he\u2019d just put two and two together and come up with four. And he was looking at Marcus like the little man had said the sum was seventeen.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Mr. Tucker, thank you for your time,\u201d he said. \u201cAnna, is there somebody you want me to get for you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna shook her head. \u201cI\u2019m all right, thank you,\u201d she said. The sheriff didn\u2019t look as though he believed her any more than he\u2019d seemed to believe Marcus. Maybe that was just his way.<\/p>\n

Marcus rose. His work here was done. \u201cMiss Simmons, I\u2019m sorry for your loss,\u201d he said, bowing slightly to her. Without waiting for an answer, he nodded to the sheriff. \u201cGood day,\u201d he said, striding out into the sunshine. Any time now, the sheriff would have to start rounding up a posse to hunt down Joe Cartwright.<\/p>\n

And if all went well, that posse just might turn into a lynch mob.<\/p>\n

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

Joe reined in his horse and slid from the saddle. \u201cAll right, we\u2019ll take a break,\u201d he said as he slid from Cochise\u2019s back. \u201cYou\u2019ve earned it.\u201d He untied the cinch and pulled the saddle and blanket from the sweaty black-and-white back. He led the horse down to the stream. \u201cHave a drink,\u201d he said. Positioning himself upstream from his equine companion, Joe squatted by the rippling water and cupped his hand to drink.<\/p>\n

He splashed cool water on his dusty face, rubbing his wet hand across the back of his neck. With a practiced eye, he looked up at the sun and gauged the time. Probably around three o\u2019clock, he reflected. They\u2019d been gone for twelve hours.<\/p>\n

He flopped down on the soft ground as Cochise nibbled the grass growing along the bank. Maybe this wasn\u2019t the right way to do it. He felt like a kid who had run away from home. Still, what other choice was there? Make his family trail after him for the rest of his life? Stay until he did something that couldn\u2019t be fixed?<\/p>\n

Well, no one was going to find him up here. Even if somebody picked up his trail down by the road, he\u2019d gone over enough rock that there wasn\u2019t a chance of anybody following. Even Hoss couldn\u2019t track a man over rock, and he was the best tracker of any white man Joe knew.<\/p>\n

He tried to figure out how many miles he\u2019d traveled. It was almost seventy miles from the house to Placerville even if he\u2019d just headed along the road and hadn\u2019t worried about being followed, and heading up through the rocks had added to the trip. Still, he figured he was probably a solid thirty miles from the house, and once Cochise had rested up, he could probably cover another ten before it got too dark to see.<\/p>\n

He tilted his hat over his face to block out the sun. A little rest wouldn\u2019t hurt him, either.<\/p>\n

Seemingly an instant later, something hit his foot. He grabbed for his gun as a voice growled, \u201cThere\u2019s probably a reason I shouldn\u2019t kick your sorry hide from here to Sacramento, but offhand, I can\u2019t think of one. What the devil\u2019d you think you were doin\u2019, anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWha\u2014what?\u201d Joe squinted at the familiar figure silhouetted against the moon. \u201cWhat the\u2014how did you\u2014what\u2014?\u201d He shook his head to clear away the fog of sleep. \u201cHow did you track me? I went over the rocks.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss hunkered down next to him. \u201cI taught you that trick, remember? I figured that was how you\u2019d go.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe cursed softly as he got to his feet and began to rummage in his saddlebag. \u201cI don\u2019t suppose you brought any grub,\u201d he grumbled. \u201cI didn\u2019t bring enough to feed the likes of you.\u201d He dug out the coffee pot and coffee, and as Hoss built a fire, Joe knelt by the stream to fill the pot. It was a routine as familiar to them as their own names, and they didn\u2019t need to talk about it.<\/p>\n

Finally, the two of them sat on opposite sides of the fire, dented tin cups in hand. \u201cWe\u2019ll head back in the morning,\u201d said Hoss when it became clear Joe had no intention of breaking the silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll head back,\u201d said Joe. \u201cI\u2019m going on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be dumb,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cYou\u2019re comin\u2019 back with me, an\u2019 that\u2019s that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not going back!\u201d Joe dropped his cup and rose abruptly. \u201cLike it or not, I\u2019m a grown man, and I can decide for myself where I\u2019m going.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah? If you\u2019re so danged grown up, then why\u2019d you have to sneak out in the middle of the night? Seems to me if you were that sure about what you were doin\u2019, you\u2019d at least have waited to say good-bye to Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe already knew I was going\u2014we talked about it last night, down by the lake.\u201d Joe was pacing now as his brother sat on the ground, watching. \u201cJust go back. Tell Pa I\u2019m all right. Tell him I\u2019ll write to him as soon as I get rid of the cast.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you loco? You think Pa\u2019s just gonna sit back and say okay to that? He ain\u2019t gonna stand for it any more than I am. You can\u2019t just run around the countryside by yourself right now, so get that notion out of your ornery head right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t understand\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand just fine. I understand that something real bad happened to you and somehow, it still ain\u2019t over. Well, I got news for you, Little Brother. If something happens to one of us, it happens to all of us. So don\u2019t you be thinking you\u2019re just gonna run out and leave the rest of us just sittin\u2019 there, not knowin\u2019 whether you\u2019re dead or alive. This family don\u2019t work like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what if I kill somebody?\u201d Shadows danced in the firelight as Joe lifted his chin defiantly. \u201cI could kill somebody without even knowing it\u2014you or Pa or Adam or Hop Sing. And what if I did? How could any of us live with that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDadburnit, Joseph\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, I\u2019m going, and that\u2019s all there is to it!\u201d Joe reached for his saddlebag, but Hoss grabbed his good arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoggone it, Little Brother, cut it out! You can\u2019t protect the whole goldarned world\u2014that ain\u2019t your job! Now, I done chased you all the way from the Ponderosa, an\u2019 I just plain had enough! You\u2019re comin\u2019 home with me before you get yourself into trouble, and I ain\u2019t gonna stand for any more nonsense. Now, you either settle yourself down or I\u2019m gonna clobber you!\u201d The big man glared for all he was worth, but Joe glared right back, his nostrils flaring as his breath came in hard, angry puffs.<\/p>\n

Hoss tightened his grip on Joe\u2019s arm until his brother\u2019s eyes grew wider. With all the menace he could muster, Hoss said, \u201cI mean it, Joe. Settle down.\u201d He shook Joe slightly for emphasis. He waited until Joe looked away before letting go, pretending not to notice as Joe rubbed his arm. Then, Hoss bent down to retrieve his cup.<\/p>\n

In the next instant, he was flat on his back, and Joe was on top of him, pummeling him with his one good fist. Grunts and scuffling and the sound of flesh slamming into flesh punctuated the quiet night. Hoss shoved his brother aside and scrambled to his feet. When Joe came at him again, Hoss lunged for him, missed and fell into the stream. A second later, Joe\u2019s shout turned to a shriek as Hoss reached up and grabbed his leg, pulling the smaller man into the water. Boots meant for dry land slipped and slid as the two fell and struggled to their feet and fell again. Fists smacked wetness and grunts turned to panting and gasping for breath, but still, neither gave in.<\/p>\n

Then, Joe swung and missed. Propelled by his own momentum, he fell headlong into the stream. Hoss wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, waiting. When Joe didn\u2019t get up, he staggered to his brother, shouting, \u201cJoe! Get up, you dang fool!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d Joe lifted his head, blinking. Unsteadily, he got to his feet, shaking water from his hair like a dog. \u201cI ain\u2019t going back with you,\u201d he muttered as he made his way to the bank.<\/p>\n

Hoss snorted as he followed his brother up onto dry ground. Neither spoke as they stripped off their wet clothes and hung them on bushes.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn,\u201d Joe muttered as he opened his saddlebags.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? You forget to bring clothes?\u201d Hoss rolled his eyes as he pulled on dry long johns.<\/p>\n

\u201cStupid cast,\u201d said Joe, holding up his arm. Even in the dim light, Hoss could see that didn\u2019t look right.<\/p>\n

\u201cI reckon that\u2019s why Doc said you had to keep it dry,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cLemme see.\u201d He approached cautiously, but Joe seemed to have gotten all his contrariness out for the moment. He poked at the plaster, frowning at its softness. \u201cHow long\u2019s this been on? Three weeks?\u201d At Joe\u2019s nod, Hoss said, \u201cProbably best if we just take it off and splint your arm tonight. Tomorrow, Doc can put another one on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you\u2014\u201d Joe began, but Hoss laid a hand on his shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know what you told me. Now, I\u2019m tellin\u2019 you. We\u2019re leaving for home first thing in the morning. We\u2019re gonna have Doc put a new cast on, and then we\u2019re gonna do what we shoulda done in the first place. We\u2019re gonna stop waiting for these fugues to go away on their own. We\u2019re gonna write to every doctor there is, and we\u2019re gonna find somebody who can help you. An\u2019 if it means you gotta go to St. Louis or New York or someplace like that, then that\u2019s what we\u2019ll do. But you hear me good, Joseph: you ain\u2019t gonna do it alone, \u2019cause we ain\u2019t gonna stand for it, none of us. We\u2019re still a family, an\u2019 that\u2019s just how it is, even if one of us ain\u2019t got the sense to put on a pair of drawers when it\u2019s cold.\u201d He smacked Joe\u2019s bare backside and turned away to tend to the dying fire, grinning at what he knew to be the outraged look that followed him.<\/p>\n

By the time they\u2019d tended to everything that needed attention\u2014the horses, supper, Joe\u2019s arm\u2014both were weary enough to turn in. Joe didn\u2019t snap when Hoss put his bedroll right beside his, even though he was still so taut that Hoss was pretty sure he was just about an inch from another explosion. Just as Hoss was dozing off, he heard the words, barely audible over the gentle splash of the stream.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad you\u2019re here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dadburn that boy.<\/em>\u00a0Hoss opened his mouth, but he couldn\u2019t say anything past the sudden lump in his throat. So he contented himself with patting Joe\u2019s arm, and he lay there, holding onto Joe and trying to see the stars through the wetness in his eyes, long after his brother\u2019s breathing had gone deep and even.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cTomorrow, we\u2019ll head out toward Yerington. Maybe he went east.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam nodded agreement as Ben pored over the map on his desk. The stagecoach offices in Virginia City and Carson City had both confirmed that nobody fitting Joe\u2019s description had caught a stage going in any direction that day, and Joe\u2019s pinto hadn\u2019t been at any of the livery stables. So, wherever Joe had vanished to, it wasn\u2019t the two cities nearest the Ponderosa.<\/p>\n

Not that Adam had truly expected to find him there. Joe would have known that those were the first places they\u2019d look. Then again, it would have been just like him to go one of those cities precisely because he knew they\u2019d assume he\u2019d never go there. It was a logic just cagey enough to be typically Joe, but it hadn\u2019t panned out.<\/p>\n

Pa was still talking. \u201cI\u2019m telling you, when I get my hands on your brother\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

A knock at the door startled him into silence. Reflexively, they both looked at the clock. It was nearly ten. No good news ever arrived at such an hour.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll get it,\u201d Adam said unnecessarily, because Pa seemed frozen. He crossed the room and opened the door to find the sheriff. \u201cEvening, Roy,\u201d he said, and he knew by the older man\u2019s expression that he\u2019d failed at sounding casual. \u201cWon\u2019t you come in?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEvening, Adam, Ben,\u201d said Roy. His eyes darted from one to the other.<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me.\u201d Ben\u2019s voice was as tight as piano wire.<\/p>\n

\u201cNobody\u2019s seen him,\u201d said Roy, and the Cartwrights relaxed visibly. \u201cThing is, there was some trouble in town today, and I figured you\u2019d need to know about it.\u201d He looked from Ben to Adam and back to Ben. \u201cAnna Simmons\u2019 partner was murdered today in his office.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMurdered!\u201d Ben dropped the map. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSome fellow came in and shot him point blank.\u201d But there was clearly more, and Ben braced himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnybody know who did it?\u201d Adam asked when Roy didn\u2019t continue.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that\u2019s why I came out here,\u201d said Roy. \u201cMarcus Tucker was in Anna\u2019s office at the time, and he says he run out and saw the killer runnin\u2019 away.\u201d Again, he looked from one Cartwright to the other. \u201cHe says the fellow who killed Palmer was Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? That\u2019s impossible!\u201d Ben exploded.<\/p>\n

Roy held up his hand. \u201cI know,\u201d he said. \u201cAn\u2019 Tucker\u2019s story don\u2019t quite hang together. Whoever killed Palmer just walked right in an\u2019 shot him in the head.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe would never\u2014\u201d Adam began.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know that,\u201d Roy cut in impatiently. \u201cAn\u2019 I reckon Tucker\u2019s figured it out, \u2019cause he\u2019s tellin\u2019 folks that he figures Joe was havin\u2019 a fugue when he done it. Thing is, Tucker told me that before the gun went off, he heard Palmer an\u2019 whoever was with him talking.\u201d He waited as comprehension and relief dawned on the men\u2019s faces before he continued, \u201cNow, you an\u2019 me, we know Joe don\u2019t talk during a fugue, but there\u2019s plenty of folks in town who never quite believed that those fugues were real. Add to that the fact that Hoss used to be courtin\u2019 Anna, and it don\u2019t take much to get some folks thinkin\u2019 mebbe Joe was upset about her marryin\u2019 somebody else.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMarrying? Wait a minute\u2014who\u2019s getting married?\u201d Adam looked as surprised at this apparent digression as Ben felt.<\/p>\n

\u201cWord is that Anna was supposed to marry Palmer,\u201d said Roy. \u201cThe notion seems to be that Joe killed Palmer \u2019cause he stole Anna away from Hoss or some such nonsense.\u201d<\/p>\n

For a ludicrous instant, all Ben could think of was how Hoss was going to take this news. Then, he forced himself back to the real issue. \u201cBut why is Tucker saying he saw Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said Roy. \u201cI heard enough from Tucker to doubt his story, but I dunno who he\u2019s protectin\u2019 with this cockamamie yarn or why. Whatever his reason, when I left to come out here, he was in the Bucket of Blood buyin\u2019 drinks. I\u2019m thinkin\u2019 he\u2019s liable to get up a posse of his own to go after Joe, \u2019cept it ain\u2019t gonna be a posse\u2014it\u2019s gonna be a lynch mob.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut why? Why Joe?\u201d It was Ben\u2019s turn to look from one man to another.<\/p>\n

Adam nodded as it all came together. \u201cProbably because Joe could have cleared his brother. If he\u2019d remembered just a day earlier, Elias Tucker wouldn\u2019t have hanged. And Marcus Tucker doesn\u2019t strike me as the forgive-and-forget type.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut that wasn\u2019t Joe\u2019s fault! Phelps hit him over the head. It wasn\u2019t something Joe could control,\u201d Ben protested.<\/p>\n

\u201cBen, I know that an\u2019 you know that,\u201d said Roy. \u201cBut Marcus Tucker\u2014he don\u2019t care about that kind of thing. Wouldn\u2019t surprise me if he set the whole thing up\u2014had Palmer killed and told that whole story\u2014jest so Little Joe would hang.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou really think he\u2019d go that far?\u201d The normally unflappable Adam sounded positively shocked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI ain\u2019t rulin\u2019 it out,\u201d said Roy grimly. \u201cI take it you didn\u2019t find Little Joe when you were huntin\u2019 in Virginia City?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot a sign of him,\u201d said Adam. \u201cWhen was the murder?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019Bout two hours after I saw you,\u201d said Roy.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid anybody say if they\u2019d seen Joe\u2019s horse?\u201d Adam asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNobody saw it,\u201d Roy said. \u201cAn\u2019 everybody knows Joe\u2019s pinto. So that\u2019s a good sign. I take it he ain\u2019t here?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben shook his head. \u201cWe\u2019re heading out at sunup. Heading east this time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe went out west, toward Placerville. He\u2019s going to wire us when he gets there tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Roy nodded. \u201cWell, Ben, I reckon I\u2019m gonna have to put together a posse jest to keep Tucker from organizing a lynch mob. Hopefully, Tucker won\u2019t stir up too much trouble if he thinks we\u2019re takin\u2019 his story seriously.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t you arrest him? Throw him in jail for interfering with official sheriff business by lying?\u201d Ben demanded.<\/p>\n

Roy shot a quick sympathetic glance at Adam. \u201cNot at this point,\u201d he said simply as he opened the door. \u201cGood luck tomorrow. I hope you find Joe real soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d said Ben, his thoughts occupied with this new situation. Then, he remembered, and he was shocked that he\u2019d forgotten to ask. \u201cRoy, how\u2019s Anna holding up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs well as can be expected, I reckon.\u201d The sheriff seemed to be waiting for something more, but when neither Cartwright spoke, he just nodded and left, closing the door behind him.<\/p>\n

Ben shook his head as if to clear it. \u201cWe\u2019ll head out past Yerington and then circle back here in case Hoss has sent word,\u201d he said. Ignoring Adam\u2019s startled expression, he went back to his desk and the map. He wished he could do something for Anna, but right now he had a more urgent problem.<\/p>\n

He had to find Little Joe before Tucker did.<\/p>\n

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

Hoss woke to the smell of too-strong coffee that had boiled over\u2014in other words, Little Joe\u2019s standard fare. He watched for a minute as Joe squatted by the fire, sipping. The younger man was gripping a cup with both hands, and he kept chewing on his bottom lip like he was fighting to hold something in. Abruptly, he set down his cup and walked over toward the creek, and Hoss watched without speaking as his brother stood stockstill, like a deer sensing danger.<\/p>\n

After a few minutes, Joe knelt and splashed water on his face. Hoss waited until Joe had wiped his face on his sleeve and turned back before he yawned and stretched like he was just waking up. Joe looked away, clearly knowing the water hadn\u2019t done a good enough job of washing away the redness in his eyes. \u201cI didn\u2019t know you were awake,\u201d he said, his voice tight.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m awake.\u201d Hoss ambled into the woods to take care of his personal business, pausing at the creek on the way back to splash some water on his own face. When he figured he\u2019d taken long enough, he sauntered back to the campfire where Joe stared unseeingly at his coffee.<\/p>\n

Hoss rummaged in his saddlebags to see what supplies Adam had packed. Before long, he was handing Joe a plate of fatback and beans. He took his time over his own breakfast, not saying anything about how little Joe ate. Finally, he poured himself another cup of coffee and broke the silence: \u201cI think you an\u2019 me need to have ourselves a talk.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll go back.\u201d Joe\u2019s voice sounded dead.<\/p>\n

Hoss nodded. \u201cThat ain\u2019t what I wanted to talk about, though.\u201d He waited until Joe looked straight at him before he continued, \u201cI been doin\u2019 a lot of thinkin\u2019, and this whole thing just don\u2019t add up. Your stage gets attacked, Indians torture everybody, an\u2019 nobody\u2019s sayin\u2019 it wasn\u2019t awful, but for some reason, you can\u2019t put it behind you and move on. I been watching this thing eat you up for months, an\u2019 the only thing I can figure is that there\u2019s something more went on than you been sayin\u2019.\u201d His voice had been deliberately casual, but when he saw his brother go pale, he knew he was right.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe need to get going. Here, give me your dish.\u201d He reached for Hoss\u2019s breakfast plate, and Hoss clamped one massive hand on his brother\u2019s wrist.<\/p>\n

\u201cTalk to me, Little Brother,\u201d he said. Joe averted his face and tried to yank his arm free, but Hoss held firm. \u201cTell me what else happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t.\u201d The words were barely audible over the stream.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure you can. Come on, sit down.\u201d He held Joe\u2019s arm until his brother sat next to him. \u201cLook at me, Joe. What happened that you ain\u2019t said?\u201d Joe shook his head, and icy fear clutched at Hoss\u2019s heart. Controlling his voice with great effort, he asked, \u201cWhat did they do to you, boy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shook his head again. \u201cNothing\u2014nothing besides what you already know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss exhaled silently, hiding his relief. \u201cThen what is it? What haven\u2019t you told us?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe gotta get going.\u201d Joe scrambled to his feet. \u201cWe\u2019ve got to get to Virginia City, and Pa\u2019s gonna be waiting for us. Come on, let\u2019s go.\u201d His voice was unsteady, higher than usual.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe. . . .\u201d But Hoss knew better than to push a skittish critter too hard. The boy was close to talking now, and the last thing Hoss wanted to do was to scare him off. He shoved to his feet and kicked dirt over the fire. As slowly as he could, he gathered his gear and saddled his horse while Joe rinsed the dishes in the creek and stored them in his saddlebag. He had one foot in a stirrup and was just heaving himself up when he heard it.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was all my fault.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Hoss stopped with his leg halfway across the saddle and tried to get down, but his horse startled at the unfamiliar shift in weight. For a minute, it was all Hoss could do to keep from falling as the horse tried to rid itself of this uneven burden. Finally, though, he soothed the gelding and got himself into the saddle as he looked around for his brother.<\/p>\n

But Joe was already riding down the trail, away from the Ponderosa.<\/p>\n

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

Anna closed her front door and leaned against it, eyes closed. The house was cool and dim, a welcome relief after the sun that already burned too bright and hot. She waited for the tears to come, but there were none. Perhaps she had used them all up.<\/p>\n

Richard dead. Murdered. Shot in cold blood in their very own office. Dizziness overwhelmed her, and she felt behind her for the door latch to steady herself.<\/p>\n

\u201cMissy want tea?\u201d<\/p>\n

She opened her eyes to see Jiang Xi standing before her. Such a good girl; she\u2019d even come to the funeral, standing a respectful distance away so that no one would think she didn\u2019t know her place but making sure she was there in case Missy Anna needed her. Anna made herself smile to acknowledge the girl\u2019s thoughtfulness.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, Jiang Xi, that would be lovely,\u201d she said. She removed her borrowed black hat, and the girl took it from her, her touch as light as a summer\u2019s breeze.<\/p>\n

What to do. That was the question. Sheriff Coffee had seemed concerned that the person who murdered Richard might come after her, but Anna found herself curiously uninterested in such a notion. Somehow, she didn\u2019t believe that Richard\u2019s killer had any interest in killing her. Especially not when he could be certain that she\u2019d suffer more by being alive.<\/p>\n

She settled herself in her armchair as the teacup appeared silently on the side table. She murmured her thanks and sipped. Not her regular black tea, strong and bracing, but the gentler green brew that the Chinese drank. This one had a light, flowery scent. \u201cJiang Xi?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Missy?\u201d The girl was there in an instant.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat kind of tea is this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJasmine tea, Missy.\u201d She watched Anna as though waiting for some sort of reaction, so Anna nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s very good, thank you.\u201d The girl bobbed a quick curtsy and disappeared, leaving Anna to consider the events of the past twenty-four hours.<\/p>\n

She\u2019d been surprised\u2014and, in all candor, disappointed\u2014that none of the Cartwrights had come to the funeral. Not that the crowd of mourners had been sparse. People she didn\u2019t even know clasped her hand and talked of what a loss, what a tragedy. Widow Morgan, whose husband had died forty years earlier, stood on tiptoe to kiss her cheek with dry, papery lips and whispered, \u201cJust be brave, dear. You never get over it. You just have to be brave.\u201d<\/p>\n

But she didn\u2019t want to be brave. She\u2019d been brave for too long already. She\u2019d been brave before she ever left Chicago, when Seth left and her father died. She\u2019d been brave for the trip west to this strange, rough place, and again as she learned to be a lawyer in a world that thought women should stay at home with their children and their housework. She\u2019d been brave enough to let herself fall in love, and if she couldn\u2019t say that she\u2019d emerged victorious at the end of Hoss\u2019s affections, at least she was learning how to manage a life without him and his family. And now, with the last real friend she\u2019d had left in this town up in the churchyard under six feet of dirt, Anna Simmons was tired of being brave.<\/p>\n

She drained her teacup and set it in its saucer as the lawyer part of her mind began to ruminate. The one thing she was certain was that Marcus Tucker was mistaken about having seen Joe running from the office. Fugue or no fugue, Joe would never have done such a thing. She thought back to the Grayson case. Joe had become involved only because Grayson was attacking that little girl. He would never have simply gone after anyone. It wasn\u2019t in his nature.<\/p>\n

But someone had killed Richard with all deliberate intent. This was no accident, no bullet gone astray, no possibility of mistaken identity. Someone wanted Richard dead.<\/p>\n

She shook her head as though arguing. It didn\u2019t make any sense. Richard hadn\u2019t had an enemy in the entire town. He wasn\u2019t even a trial lawyer who might ruffle someone\u2019s feathers by cross-examining him with uncomfortable questions or arguing to a jury that the witness wasn\u2019t telling the truth. All he did was to draw up contracts when people bought and sold property\u2014the happiest part of the law, her father had called it, because buyers were getting what they wanted and sellers were getting rid of what they didn\u2019t want. Richard had only written a dozen or so wills since he\u2019d been in town, and all of those people were still alive, so the heirs had no reason even to challenge his work, much less to hate him for it.<\/p>\n

No, there was no question that Richard hadn\u2019t died because of something he\u2019d done as a lawyer.<\/p>\n

She allowed her mind to wander back over the past several months. He\u2019d squired a number of young ladies around town, but she\u2019d never heard the slightest hint that he was anything other than charming and chivalrous. Even if he\u2019d broken some girl\u2019s heart by proposing to Anna, it defied credulity that the girl would have done such a thing.<\/p>\n

Her mind kept coming back to Joe\u2014specifically, to Marcus accusing Joe. It didn\u2019t make sense. She didn\u2019t recall much about the sheriff\u2019s conversation with Marcus, but she thought he\u2019d said something about a fugue. That couldn\u2019t be right, though; she\u2019d heard voices in the outer office before the gunshot.<\/p>\n

Perhaps the way to go at it was from the end. She\u2019d go out to the Ponderosa and talk to Joe, see where he\u2019d been. See if he knew why Marcus thought he\u2019d been in town.<\/p>\n

Sure, that\u2019s why you want to go to the Ponderosa,<\/em>\u00a0her mind taunted her.\u00a0To see Joe. Uh-huh. Sure.<\/em><\/p>\n

Fine,<\/em>\u00a0she shot back.\u00a0I want to see Hoss. Is that so wrong?<\/em>\u00a0She wanted to see him, to hear his deep voice, to feel his strong arms around her as she rested her head against his chest. She wanted to lay down her burdens, as the old song said. Just once more, she wanted to be held by the man she loved.<\/p>\n

Tears, hot and unexpected, welled up. Poor, poor Richard. He\u2019d loved her, he\u2019d left everything to come here to win her, he\u2019d wanted to marry her\u2014and she\u2019d no sooner buried him than she was dreaming about Hoss. What a wretched person she was. It didn\u2019t matter that she hadn\u2019t led Richard on, hadn\u2019t ever said she loved him, hadn\u2019t even accepted his proposal. She was suddenly, absurdly grateful that she\u2019d never given him an answer. At least he\u2019d died with hope.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Richard, I\u2019m so sorry,\u201d she sobbed, but her words were muffled by her hands.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cJoe! Joseph!\u201d Hoss put his heels to his horse, but the pinto carried the lighter burden and the gap between them lengthened. \u201cJoe, stop!\u201d If he\u2019d been chasing anybody else, he\u2019d have fired into the air, but that would mean nothing to Joe, because his brother knew there was no chance of Hoss shooting him.<\/p>\n

Ahead of him, Joe veered off the road and started up over the rocks. \u201cSlow down, you knucklehead!\u201d Hoss shouted. Joe was riding far too fast for the terrain. If he didn\u2019t watch himself\u2014<\/p>\n

As if it had heard the thought, the pinto slipped on the rock, dumping the rider before scrambling to right itself. \u201cJoseph!\u201d Hoss shouted. He forced himself to slow his mount as they negotiated the rocky ground, and he reined Chubby in just as Joe was getting to his feet.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou dadblamed fool! You could\u2019ve broken your stupid neck!\u201d Hoss shouted as he grabbed Joe\u2019s good arm.<\/p>\n

Joe blinked, as much at the volume of the question as at the large red face close to his. \u201cSettle down, I\u2019m fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss harrumphed, \u201cYou coulda been killed.\u201d When Joe didn\u2019t respond, Hoss peered at him. \u201cYou weren\u2019t tryin\u2019 to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, of course not. I just\u2014I\u2014oh, hell, I don\u2019t know. Is Cochise okay?\u201d He pulled his arm from his brother\u2019s grasp and bent to examine each of the horse\u2019s legs. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, boy,\u201d he murmured as he stroked the pinto\u2019s flanks.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLooks like it.\u201d Joe straightened and met Hoss\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

For a long minute, the brothers looked at each other without speaking. Joe swallowed hard, but he didn\u2019t look away. Instead, he raised his chin. \u201cAll right\u2014now you know. So let me go. Tell Pa you couldn\u2019t find me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know nothin\u2019, and I\u2019m sure as shootin\u2019 not gonna let you go,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cAnd I ain\u2019t lyin\u2019 to Pa, neither.\u201d Joe swayed slightly, and Hoss peered more intently. \u201cYou hit your head?\u201d Joe shook his head, but he winced, and Hoss spat in disgust. \u201cCan\u2019t leave you alone for five minutes, can I? Come on!\u201d He grabbed both sets of reins and led the horses up to where the trail forked and an overhang created a cool, shady spot. \u201cSit down,\u201d he growled, thrusting a canteen into Joe\u2019s hands. He loosened the horses\u2019 cinches. He had a feeling this was going to take a while.<\/p>\n

Joe was still standing, canteen in hand, when he turned back. \u201cI thought I told you to sit down.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss, I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph, I mean it.\u201d He waited until Joe sat before he did the same. \u201cNow, I want to hear it all. What\u2019s your fault?\u201d Joe\u2019s gaze slid to the ground, and Hoss debated letting up on him. With Joe, there was sometimes a fine line between too easy and too rough. Rough was right when he did something stupid like he\u2019d just done, but all of a sudden, it looked like the skittish critter might be back. So, he softened his voice just a little. \u201cJoe, whatever it is, you need to tell me. Keepin\u2019 it bottled up like this ain\u2019t helping, but maybe sayin\u2019 it out loud will.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe was silent for so long that Hoss thought the skittish critter might have bolted. Just when he was about to try again, Joe said, \u201cIt was my fault.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cThe whole thing. It was all my fault.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss kept his voice level. \u201cIt was an Indian attack, Joe. It wasn\u2019t your fault. You didn\u2019t have anything to do with it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe wouldn\u2019t have been in that area if it wasn\u2019t for me.\u201d The words came out in a rush.<\/p>\n

Hoss sat back, nodding at Joe to keep going. There was more, he knew. The boil had been lanced at last, and now the poison would flow.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe night before, I got in this poker game, and I was doing real good. Folks kept buying drinks, and I kept winning, and next thing I knew, it was nearly sunup. I gave the bartender ten bucks to make sure Smitty knew not to leave without me, and I went on upstairs to sleep. Next thing I knew, Smitty was banging on the door, yelling that he was gonna lose his job if he waited any longer for me. I got myself out of there and down to the stagecoach\u2014we must\u2019ve been an hour late leaving, maybe more. And then\u2014\u201d He dropped his head, his voice lower. \u201cI\u2019d had an awful lot to drink and\u2014well\u2014we had to stop about three or four times for me to get sick. Mary Ann and Mr. Ziegler were real nice about it, but I could tell Smitty was getting madder and madder about how late I was making him. So I told him about that shortcut through the draw up by Butler\u2019s Ridge and how he could make up all the time he\u2019d lost and then some, and everybody was so happy that we were going to get to the fort early, and\u2014\u201d He broke off, and for a time, the only sound was the dry wind over the rocks.<\/p>\n

Finally, he continued, \u201cAfterward, I heard one of the soldiers talking about that damn fool driver and how could he have not known there were Indian warnings in that area. I hadn\u2019t heard about any trouble there, but the soldier said they\u2019d sent word to the stage line a whole week earlier and all the drivers should have known. I don\u2019t know if they didn\u2019t tell Smitty or if he was just so worried about being late that he figured it was worth a try, but we weren\u2019t five miles in when\u2014\u201d His voice cracked, and he pressed his fist against his mouth. Wordlessly, Hoss handed him the canteen, but he shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t even known what was happening,\u201d Joe whispered. \u201cI\u2019d fallen asleep, and I never heard anything until all of a sudden, there was Mary Ann shaking me and screaming, and there were Indians all around the stagecoach.\u201d His gaze was turned inward now, his words barely audible. \u201cIf I hadn\u2019t been so hung over, I\u2019d have wakened up sooner, and maybe we could have fought them off, but I was asleep and there wasn\u2019t anybody else who could shoot because Smitty was trying to outrun them and Mr. Ziegler didn\u2019t have a gun and they caught up with us, and Mary Ann and Smitty and Mr. Ziegler\u2014all of them died because of. . . .\u201d His last words dissolved as his big brother drew him close and he buried his face in Hoss\u2019s shirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet it out, boy,\u201d Hoss said, just as their pa would have. Let it all out, every last bit of it. Let out everything that had been gnawing like a rat, driving his mind into shadows and his heart into chaos. Everything that had kept him living and re-living the horrors of that day even as his companions rested in peace, freed from the sufferings that continued to torment him. Hoss held his brother as anguish and grief, shame and guilt echoed off the rocks. \u201cThat\u2019s it, Joe,\u201d he murmured. \u201cJust let it out.\u201d<\/p>\n

At last, Joe pushed away. He turned from Hoss as he swiped at his wet face with his hands. Then, for the first time since he\u2019d started talking, he lifted his head and looked squarely at his brother. Defiant, his reddened eyes searched Hoss\u2019s face, challenging him to\u2014what? Blame? Despise? Judge? Condemn?<\/p>\n

Hoss handed Joe his bandana, waiting as Joe wiped his eyes and blew his nose. Then, he rested his hand on the back of his little brother\u2019s neck. \u201cIs that everything?\u201d Hoss asked. \u201cThe whole story?\u201d Joe nodded. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing else?\u201d Joe shook his head. \u201cAnd you never told any of this to anybody? Not even Pa?\u201d Joe shook his head again, and this time, he looked away.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, then. I want you to listen to me, and listen good.\u201d Hoss waited until Joe was looking back at him before he continued, \u201cEverything you just told me\u2014it don\u2019t change a thing. What happened that day wasn\u2019t your fault. You and me\u2019ve been through that area a hundred times with no problem. You had no way of knowing about the Indians. And to be honest, Little Brother, from what those soldiers told us when we got to the fort to fetch you, it wouldn\u2019t have mattered if you\u2019d been sittin\u2019 up top with Smitty and seen \u2019em when they first appeared\u2014there was too many of \u2019em, and that coach was never gonna outrun them. You mighta killed a couple, but that\u2019s about all you coulda done. Everything else that happened\u2014you bein\u2019 awake or asleep wouldn\u2019t have changed a thing. They did some of the worst things a man can do, and there wasn\u2019t a doggone thing you coulda done to change it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut we wouldn\u2019t have been there\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss held up his hand. \u201cI know,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd it was real bad luck that Smitty decided to go that way, but you didn\u2019t know there was anything wrong when you said it. You don\u2019t get to blame yourself for that.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cNo buts, Little Brother. It wasn\u2019t your fault.\u201d He considered his next words carefully. \u201cJoe, there ain\u2019t a man alive who\u2019s as strong as you think you shoulda been that day. I heard you tell it all in court, how they beat you and held you down with how many on top of you? Two? Three?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThree.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAn\u2019 they held that knife to your throat while they were torturing the others\u2014\u201d He touched the scar under Joe\u2019s chin and pretended not to notice his brother flinch. \u201cNobody coulda saved those folks. Not you, not me, not anybody. You didn\u2019t fail them, Joe. I swear it.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cNo.\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice was sorrowful, but he made himself sound firm. \u201cNo buts, Little Brother. Sometimes, there just ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 more a man can do than what he\u2019s done.\u201d He rested his hand on Joe\u2019s shoulder, willing him to hear, to believe. \u201cYou did the best you could. Nobody coulda done better.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s eyes searched his brother\u2019s face for any sign of guile. His chin quivered, and he clenched his jaw, but he didn\u2019t look away. Hoss waited, not speaking, as the skittish critter tested his words.<\/p>\n

Suddenly, Joe scrambled to his feet. Hoss started to get up, but Joe held up his hand as he strode away, vulnerable and determined. The big man watched as his brother disappeared over the rocks and out of sight. From nowhere, the familiar words echoed:\u00a0if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us. . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

He heaved himself to his feet, scanning the area for anything that could be used to build a fire. Might as well make coffee while he waited, he reasoned. As he searched for water and bits of wood, his mind followed the young man who was clambering over rocks. Joe had finally found the courage to confess. Absolution from his brother wasn\u2019t enough, though. He still had to face the one who judged him more harshly than anybody else.<\/p>\n

Himself.<\/p>\n

Hoss knelt by a small watering hole and filled the coffeepot. It all made sense now. Haunted by all that had happened, Joe must have tried at first to escape by slamming the door on the part of his mind that insisted on reliving that day. Typically stubborn, he would just refuse to think about it, and eventually, it would fade into the past and leave him in peace.<\/p>\n

But the dead had refused to be shut away so neatly. First, they stole into his sleep, begging him to rescue them; then, they began to invade his waking hours. Day and night, he saw and heard and felt it all again. How the others had struggled, screamed, pled for mercy. How hot their blood had been when the Indians tossed scalps at him as though playing some macabre game. How cold the blade had been against his throat as he fought to escape his captors\u2019 iron grip. How helpless he had been to stop the torture, the suffering, the violent, pointless deaths.<\/p>\n

The family had always teased Joe about his \u201cknight in shining armor\u201d tendencies. Somehow, the notion had taken root in his mind that everyone would have been alive and well if only he hadn\u2019t been so careless, so selfish. As if the tragedy itself wasn\u2019t enough, his grief became intertwined with the paralyzing conviction that he had failed Mary Ann and Mr. Ziegler and Smitty. Despite his struggle to move forward, there had come a time when he simply could not bear to remember any more, and his mind began to escape into the shadows. . . .<\/p>\n

Hoss squinted in the direction his brother had gone. Joe would never lay their ghosts to rest until he could see plainly the terrifying truth of that day and admit that there was nothing he could have done that would have changed anything, saved anyone. Only then could he hope to find peace, to relinquish his anguish and guilt over their suffering, their deaths.<\/p>\n

And his own survival.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt wasn\u2019t your fault,\u201d Hoss whispered into the wind. \u201cYou did everything you could.\u201d Unexpected tears filled his eyes, and he let them fall, hot and free, as he recalled Joe\u2019s descriptions of a bubbly young girl on her way to be married; an old man with a wry sense of humor; a stagecoach driver who wanted to do his job well. Good people, all of them. Instinctively, he knew that they would never have blamed his brother for their terrible fate.<\/p>\n

Later, there had been a wealthy young lady on her way to visit her lover, and a frightened man with a scar. Once again, Joe had failed to save them. No matter that it hadn\u2019t been his fault, or even that there had been those he did save: Sun Mao, Nate Miller, Cody. The knight in shining armor was supposed to save everyone, always.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt wasn\u2019t your fault, Little Brother,\u201d Hoss said again into the wind. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing you could have done to change what happened. I swear, it wasn\u2019t your fault.\u201d He stood still, coffeepot in hand, willing his brother to hear, to trust, to understand. To believe.<\/p>\n

The sun had passed the midday peak and was beginning its downward trek to the west before he saw Joe coming back over the rocks. He couldn\u2019t have said just what it was, but as his brother came closer, he could see that something was different. Something about the way he moved, the way he held himself\u2014straighter, maybe, or taller. He had an instant of panic as he realized Joe might be in a fugue. How had he let him go off on his own when there was a chance of that? What kind of a brother was he? He\u2019d gone completely on instinct, respecting another man\u2019s need to be alone, and he hadn\u2019t even considered whether it was safe.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe!\u201d He tried not to sound frantic as he waved his hat, and when Joe waved back, he blew out his breath in relief. \u201cYou dang fool,\u201d he muttered. He poured out the last of the coffee into a second cup as he waited for Joe to climb over the last of the rocks.<\/p>\n

Joe accepted the cup with a grunt of thanks. Hoss ignored the way his eyebrows raised slightly at the offering. The brothers stood by the fire, neither speaking as they finished their coffee.<\/p>\n

Finally, the cups were empty. Hoss kicked dirt over the fire and pretended not to watch as Joe packed up the coffee pot and cups. There were a dozen things he wanted to say, but he didn\u2019t know how. At last, he settled on the simplest one: \u201cYou ready to go home?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stood still as though considering the question. Then, he nodded. \u201cYeah,\u201d was all he said, but in that one word, Hoss heard the answer to everything.<\/p>\n

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

Something wasn\u2019t right. Marcus couldn\u2019t have said how, but he knew it in his gut. His plan hadn\u2019t worked.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d watched from his window in the hotel as the posse gathered in front of the sheriff\u2019s office at dawn. Carson and Edwards were riding with the posse, and they would be sure to make plenty of comments about rich folks always getting away with murder and how, if they weren\u2019t careful, old man Cartwright would just buy another jury like he did last time. Hopefully, they\u2019d be able to turn the posse\u2019s mind to the argument that nearly always carried the day: did they really want to go to the trouble of hauling a murderer back to town, only to see him go free so that he could kill again? Everybody knew about that murder trial last fall; it wouldn\u2019t take much for folks to start to see Joe Cartwright as a murderer who kept getting away with it because his family was powerful and rich.<\/p>\n

If Carson and Edwards did their job well, not even old Sheriff Coffee himself would be able to stop that mob.<\/p>\n

Marcus had frowned slightly when he saw only a half-dozen men gathered. A group that size was going to be harder to whip up into a frenzy\u2014not enough people to agitate. Besides, even a mediocre sheriff could control a small posse, and someone with Roy Coffee\u2019s attitude and experience would be difficult for Carson and Edwards to overcome.<\/p>\n

Marcus decided to trust them. They\u2019d handled tougher jobs than this.<\/p>\n

But by late afternoon, he couldn\u2019t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He told himself he was overreacting. After all, they had to find Cartwright before they could hang him. Since nobody knew where he was, the search could take days. The fact that they hadn\u2019t yet ridden in with the body tied face-down across his horse didn\u2019t mean that they\u2019d failed. It just meant that the job was a little tougher than they\u2019d anticipated, and maybe he should think about a bonus for them when they succeeded.<\/p>\n

After dinner, he strolled along the board sidewalk, smoking his cigar and eying the town with more satisfaction than he\u2019d known since Elias\u2019s death. They weren\u2019t going to get away with killing his brother. They would pay, every last one of them. All the ones who had gathered for a holiday as his brother swung in the coolness of the early morning\u2014they would all watch as Joe Cartwright was brought in just like any other murderer. They would gather at the cemetery, just as they had this morning when the lawyer was buried, but this time, they would point and whisper behind their hands about how you just never knew. . . .<\/p>\n

The sound of a fast rider caught his attention. He looked up to see Carson swinging off his horse and looking around. Marcus stood still, waiting for Carson to see him; as soon as the man spotted him, he nodded and proceeded to the hotel.<\/p>\n

He was barely in his room when Carson burst in. \u201cThere\u2019s a problem,\u201d the dusty man said without preamble.<\/p>\n

Marcus set his cigar in the ashtray. \u201cWhat problem?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe sheriff doesn\u2019t believe it was Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus considered this statement for a long minute. \u201cHow do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard him talking to the deputy\u2014real quiet, like he didn\u2019t want anybody else to hear. Deputy said something about Cartwright and his fugues, and the sheriff said it wasn\u2019t a fugue.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid he say why not?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said there was a witness who said that the killer had talked to Palmer before he shot him, but that Joe Cartwright never talks when he\u2019s in a fugue.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus swore. He got up, paced back and forth several times, and swore again. Damn it all, he should have known that. The day Cartwright had gone to the jail to see Elias, Marcus had demanded to know what the so-called invalid was doing there, and the sheriff had said that he hadn\u2019t asked because Cartwright couldn\u2019t talk since he was in a fugue. Damn it all to hell. How could he have made such a basic mistake? Damn, damn and double damn.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoes he think Cartwright killed Palmer without being in a fugue?\u201d Marcus asked when he\u2019d stopped pacing.<\/p>\n

Carson shook his head. \u201cIt didn\u2019t seem like it,\u201d he said. \u201cEdwards said that Cartwright\u2019s brother used to court Miss Simmons and Cartwright probably didn\u2019t like Palmer stealing his brother\u2019s girl, but Coffee wouldn\u2019t hear of it. Said it was obvious Edwards didn\u2019t know the Cartwrights at all if he thought Little Joe was capable of something like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Little Joe\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what he called him. Sounded like it was his favorite nephew or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus drew on his cigar. If the sheriff didn\u2019t believe Cartwright had killed Palmer, why had he bothered to raise a posse and spend a day riding around this godforsaken country looking for a man he thought was innocent?<\/p>\n

\u201cIs Edwards still with the posse?\u201d At Carson\u2019s nod, Marcus said, \u201cAll right. Go on back. If you find Cartwright, kill him. I don\u2019t care how you do it. Just make sure he\u2019s dead.\u201d He ignored the slight question in Carson\u2019s eyes. The man wouldn\u2019t understand anyway. He didn\u2019t have a brother.<\/p>\n

In the next instant, he made up his mind. He knew Cartwright hadn\u2019t made it home yet, because Piper and Watson would have killed him and come on in. So there was still time for Marcus to get there first.<\/p>\n

A smile spread across his face. \u201cOne more thing,\u201d he said. Carson paused at the door, waiting. \u201cBefore you go back to the posse, we need to go to the cave.\u201d Carson\u2019s eyebrows raised, and Marcus nodded.<\/p>\n

When Cartwright came home, he\u2019d find the surprise of his life. The\u00a0last<\/em>\u00a0surprise of his life.<\/p>\n

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

Jiang Xi picked up the plate of nearly-untouched food without comment. Anna nodded her thanks and pretended not to notice the girl\u2019s glance.<\/p>\n

She was being foolish. If there was one thing she should have learned by now, it was that life was too short.<\/p>\n

Richard knew that. He took a chance to go after the woman he loved, and even though it hadn\u2019t worked out, at least he tried. He died knowing he\u2019d done his best.<\/p>\n

Anna stood so abruptly that she nearly turned her chair over. All right, then. She would marshal all her best, most persuasive arguments. She would be compelling, eloquent, passionate. And somehow . . . somehow . . . she would convince Hoss that what they\u2019d shared wasn\u2019t finished.<\/p>\n

She pulled the blue wrap around her shoulders. \u201cJiang Xi!\u201d she called. The girl appeared in the doorway. \u201cI\u2019m going out to the Ponderosa.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was no more time for pride or stubbornness. She would stand before him and tell him that she still loved him. The worst he could do was to tell her she was too late, that he didn\u2019t love her, but at least she would know she\u2019d done all she could. She wasn\u2019t going to wait another day. She couldn\u2019t risk losing him. Not if there was a way not to.<\/p>\n

Life was too short.<\/p>\n

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

Light glowed in the window overlooking the porch as the brothers rode into the dark yard. \u201cLooks like Pa and Adam are back,\u201d Hoss said as they dismounted.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd they\u2019ve got company,\u201d said Joe, nodding to the buggy and the unfamiliar horses tied to the hitching rail.<\/p>\n

\u201cWonder what\u2019s going on,\u201d Hoss mused. He handed Chubby\u2019s reins to Joe. \u201cPut the horses up. I\u2019ll see what\u2019s happening.\u201d He pulled his saddlebags off the horse\u2019s back and headed for the house as Joe led the horses into the barn.<\/p>\n

Joe had just loosened Chubby\u2019s cinch when the first gunshot cracked. An instant later, two answering shots and a woman\u2019s scream split the night.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss!\u201d Joe grabbed his gun with his right hand and ran for the house where the front door stood wide open. He burst into the main room and froze at the sight before him.<\/p>\n

Blood. Hot. Violent. Brutal.<\/p>\n

Then, his vision cleared, and he saw Anna across the room in the blue chair, wild-eyed, her mouth a silent\u00a0O<\/em>, bound hands clutching one of the chair\u2019s arms. A man lay slumped against the stairs beside her, blood staining his face as it dripped from the bullet hole just below his no-color hair. A man who could have been his twin stood by the hearth, his face expressionless, his gun pointed at Joe.<\/p>\n

Not five feet from inside the door, Hoss lay motionless on the floor behind the settee, his eyes closed. Blood from one wound dripped across his brow, and from another stained his thigh and the dark boards beneath.<\/p>\n

\u201cDrop your gun, Cartwright,\u201d said Marcus Tucker.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll kill you, Tucker,\u201d snarled Joe. He tossed the gun as short a distance as he dared.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I doubt that very much.\u201d Tucker sounded like he was enjoying himself. He picked up Joe\u2019s gun and tucked it in his waistband. \u201cYou see, Mr. Piper is an excellent shot. A lesser man would have killed your brother, but Mr. Piper has only wounded him so that he won\u2019t miss anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss anything? What are you talking about?\u201d His attention was torn: he knew he should be watching Tucker, but he hadn\u2019t seen Hoss move. . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe,\u201d managed Hoss. Relief swirled through Joe. He knelt beside his brother, only to have Tucker plant his boot against Joe\u2019s right shoulder and shove so that he landed heavily on his splinted arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll move when I say to,\u201d the bespectacled little man said as Joe sucked in his breath, steeling himself against the lightning bolt of pain that shot up his arm. \u201cStep away from him.\u201d He gestured with the muzzle of his gun. When Joe didn\u2019t move, Tucker said, \u201cWe\u2019ve already had one would-be hero get shot for doing something stupid. It would be a shame to make Miss Simmons watch it happen again. The difference is that this time, Mr. Piper wouldn\u2019t just be shooting to wound.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe glared as he slid away from Hoss, still remaining low. \u201cWhat are you doing here, Tucker?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, I\u2019m here to see justice done, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d said Tucker genially. \u201cI have to admit, though, that I didn\u2019t think you were going to be so obliging as to deliver yourself into my hands so quickly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d\u00a0Go away, you lunatic. My brother needs help.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Palmer\u2019s untimely death, of course.\u201d Tucker\u2019s thin lips spread into a smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the hell\u2014?\u201d He barely glanced at the little man: the puddle of blood beneath Hoss\u2019s leg was spreading.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou murdered Mr. Palmer,\u201d Tucker said. \u201cShot him in cold blood. He was buried this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTalk sense, Tucker,\u201d Joe snapped. He didn\u2019t want to be distracted from Hoss, but Tucker\u2019s words had gotten his attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s true,\u201d said Tucker. \u201cMiss Simmons can tell you. Miss Simmons, tell Mr. Cartwright what happened to your intended.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wasn\u2019t my intended,\u201d Anna protested absurdly, as though the accuracy of this lone detail was what mattered. To Joe, she said, \u201cSomeone came into the office yesterday and killed Richard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was present,\u201d Tucker said. \u201cI ran from Miss Simmons\u2019s office outside, and I saw you running away.\u201d<\/p>\n

His mouth went dry.\u00a0Oh, God, no. Not again. Not again.<\/em>\u00a0\u201cI wasn\u2019t\u2014I didn\u2019t\u2014Anna, I swear\u2014\u201d The room began to spin. His heart pounded. For an unending moment, he teetered on the edge of believing. And then. . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe.\u201d The whisper was barely audible, but it was enough. He looked at Hoss, who shook his head slightly as he mouthed, \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

No.<\/em>\u00a0He blew out his breath silently. Of course not. He hadn\u2019t been in Virginia City yesterday. There had been no fugue, no killing. Not this time.<\/p>\n

Firmly, over the thudding of his heart, he announced, \u201cI wasn\u2019t anywhere near there yesterday morning,\u201d He swallowed hard, licking his lips. \u201cI was on my way to Placerville. By sunrise, I was ten miles from here in the other direction from Virginia City.\u201d He allowed himself a quick glance at his brother, who nodded his confirmation.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not what the sheriff thinks,\u201d Tucker was saying. \u201cHe\u2019s got a posse out looking for you now. He thinks you were having a fugue and that you killed Palmer because Miss Simmons was going to marry him instead of your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe regarded Tucker for a long moment. Then, puzzlement gave way to cold certainty as the pieces fell into place. When Joe spoke, his tone was smooth and sure with a glint of steel as sharp as a dagger. He stood and looked Tucker dead in the eye. \u201cYou\u2019re a liar.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe.\u201d Hoss\u2019s warning was faint.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, no, Mr. Cartwright. There is indeed a posse looking for you even as we speak. And yes, Mr. Palmer is very dead. Ask Miss Simmons\u2014she saw him. He was shot right in the middle of the forehead.\u201d The little man\u2019s smile widened slightly at Anna\u2019s gasp, and Joe\u2019s temper flared.<\/p>\n

Barely controlling his anger, Joe spat, \u201cYou lied to the sheriff about me. I want to know why.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLie, Mr. Cartwright? I don\u2019t know what you mean. I\u2019m a law-abiding citizen. I simply told the sheriff what I saw.\u201d The man seemed to be enjoying himself. \u201cOf course, since you and he are such good friends, I was concerned that he might be a trifle slipshod in his hunt for you, and so I took it upon myself to come here. I assumed that, sooner or later, you would return to hearth and home so that your rich daddy could buy his pretty boy another acquittal. After all, that is the way of the world when a man is favored with wealth and appearance, isn\u2019t it?\u201d A harsh edge had crept into his voice, but he caught himself and smoothed out his features as if they were having a pleasant discussion about the weather. \u201cSo, we\u2019re going to have our own trial right here. It will be for you just as it was for my brother. I shall be the judge, and when your guilt has been proven, I will pronounce sentence.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker stood over Hoss, looking down at him with a mixture of pity and glee. \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d he said. \u201cI know just how you feel. I had watch to my brother on trial for his life, and I had exactly the same concerns you do. And just to let you know that I understand, I\u2019m going to have Miss Simmons here defend your brother, just as she did mine.\u201d A smile spread across his round face as his gaze fell on Anna. \u201cLet us hope that she can do a better job for your brother than she did for Elias.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy brother\u2019s bleeding,\u201d Joe interrupted. \u201cLet me tend to him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, why would I do that?\u201d Tucker asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause\u2014because\u2014\u201d\u00a0Because it would be the decent thing to do. Because he\u2019s my brother and he\u2019s hurt. He\u2019s bleeding. He could die if I don\u2019t help him.<\/em>\u00a0For the life of him, Joe couldn\u2019t think of a single reason that a man like Marcus Tucker would accept.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause you want Hoss to suffer,\u201d Anna cut in with a meaningful look at Joe. \u201cYou want him to watch this little charade you have planned. If Joe can\u2019t stop the bleeding, Hoss will pass out, and then he\u2019ll miss everything and half your fun will be gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmmm.\u201d Tucker stroked his receding chin as he considered her words. \u201cAn excellent point, Miss Simmons. Very well, Mr. Cartwright. You may not only bind up your brother\u2019s wounds, but you may move him off the floor. Miss Simmons is right. I\u2019d hate for him to miss your trial.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to get the bullet out of his leg,\u201d Joe said. \u201cOtherwise, he could die.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t push me, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d said Tucker. \u201cAs long as he doesn\u2019t bleed to death, I\u2019m sure he has hours left\u2014perhaps even a day or so.\u201d He turned to the man whose gun had remained trained on Joe. \u201cI\u2019m going to the kitchen to collect something for Mr. Cartwright to use in his last humanitarian act,\u201d he said. \u201cIf any of these fine people should attempt to escape or do something heroic while I\u2019m gone, kill Miss Simmons.\u201d He waited until Piper\u2019s gun was pointed at Anna before he nodded to Joe and strode into the kitchen.<\/p>\n

A short time later, a bandage had been wrapped around Hoss\u2019s brow to stop the bleeding of what had proven to be only a crease. Hoss\u2019s thigh was wrapped with half of a sheet Tucker had found in Hop Sing\u2019s scrap basket, and Joe had half-carried him to the settee as Piper\u2019s gun remained trained on Anna. Without so much as a glance at Tucker, Joe tucked a pillow beneath Hoss\u2019s head and covered him with the rough red Indian blanket. As he straightened, he saw his brother\u2019s dark blood congealing on the floor, and hot acid filled his throat.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll get you out of this,<\/em>\u00a0he promised Hoss and Anna silently.<\/p>\n

He crossed his arms. \u201cNow what?\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker appraised him. \u201cYou don\u2019t look much like a prisoner,\u201d he said at length. \u201cPiper, your neckcloth.\u201d The other man untied his neckcloth with one hand, never moving the gun from its target. Tucker took the neckcloth and gestured to Joe with his gun, he said, \u201cCome here.\u201d With a quick glance at Anna and Piper\u2019s gun, Joe approached Tucker, glaring. \u201cTurn around and put your hands behind you.\u201d Joe obeyed, and Tucker tsked. \u201cWhat is this?\u201d He unfastened the splint and tossed the sticks into the fire. \u201cYou won\u2019t be needing that,\u201d he said as he tied Joe\u2019s wrists with the neckcloth. \u201cTurn around.\u201d He nodded approvingly. \u201cI think we\u2019re ready. Miss Simmons, call your first witness.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know what you want me to do,\u201d Anna began, but Tucker cut in.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want you to try this case,\u201d he said. \u201cYou\u2019ll try the case, or we\u2019ll proceed straight to the execution. Which do you prefer?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe caught her eye and nodded slightly. Not that he had any idea what she could do, but if anybody could stall for time, it was a lawyer. He watched as she bit her lip slightly. Then, she rose, tossing her head as though her hands weren\u2019t tied, literally as well as figuratively.<\/p>\n

\u201cI call Mr. Piper to the stand,\u201d she announced.<\/p>\n

Piper looked at Tucker, the question plain on his face. \u201cTake the stand,\u201d Tucker said, clearly amused by this turn of events. Uncertainly, Piper approached Anna, who instructed him to sit in the blue chair and raise his right hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI do.\u201d His eyes darted toward Tucker again.<\/p>\n

\u201cState your full name and address.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWalt\u2014Walter Piper. I ain\u2019t got an address. I move around a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long have you known Marcus Tucker?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUm, four years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDescribe your relationship to Marcus Tucker.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh\u2014I work for him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoing what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cObjection!\u201d called Tucker. \u201cThis has nothing to do with Cartwright murdering Palmer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGoes to credibility,\u201d said Anna. She thought of pointing out that Tucker couldn\u2019t be both prosecutor and judge, but she decided to let that pass. Joe was edging slightly closer to Tucker, so she turned back to Piper to draw their captor\u2019s attention away from Joe. \u201cAnswer the question, Mr. Piper.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do whatever he tells me to do,\u201d said Piper.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat kind of things has he told you to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cObjection! Irrelevant! Don\u2019t answer that question!\u201d Tucker interrupted.<\/p>\n

\u201cHas he ever told you to shoot anyone?\u201d Anna continued as though Tucker hadn\u2019t spoken.<\/p>\n

\u201cObjection!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Piper, I would remind you that you\u2019re under oath and that we all heard Mr. Tucker\u2019s statement to you of a few minutes earlier. I ask you again: has Mr. Tucker ever told you to shoot anyone?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cObjection!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid he tell you to shoot Richard Palmer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cObjection!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you kill Richard Palmer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up!\u201d Tucker grabbed her arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet go of her!\u201d Joe lunged, head-butting Tucker away from Anna. The little man lost his balance and tumbled to the floor with Joe on top of him. Piper seized Joe, yanking him to his knees and pressing the barrel of his gun against Joe\u2019s head.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Piper,\u201d said Tucker as he got to his feet. \u201cThat\u2019s not the way we\u2019re going to do it.\u201d He sneered at Joe. \u201cI\u2019ll be right back. I think it\u2019s time to bring in our little friend. Piper, make sure Cartwright doesn\u2019t go anywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Piper tightened his grip on Joe\u2019s jaw, the gun barrel buried in Joe\u2019s hair.<\/p>\n

Tucker dusted himself off. With a disgusted look at Anna, he went outside. Moments later, he returned with a small wooden box which he set carefully on the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cLadies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce my little friend,\u201d he said as he lifted the lid off the box. He reached in, rummaging among the straw until he found what he sought. He drew out a clear glass vial filled with clear liquid. A cord was tied around the vial in a long loop.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Cartwright, a present for you,\u201d he said. He draped the cord around Joe\u2019s neck. \u201cNow, I suggest that you stay very, very still. The contents of that little vial are very volatile.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe froze. Anna\u2019s hands flew to her mouth. On the settee, Hoss\u2019s eyes widened.<\/p>\n

Tucker smiled in delight. \u201cYes, my friends,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s nitroglycerin. If Mr. Cartwright should have another unwise idea, it will be his last\u2014and all of yours as well.\u201d He chuckled.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice was barely audible. \u201cWhy\u2019re you doin\u2019 this?\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. \u201cYou\u2019re awake,\u201d he said. \u201cHow delightful. I\u2019d have hated for you to miss everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy\u2019re you doin\u2019 this?\u201d Hoss repeated.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, now,\u201d said Tucker, wagging his finger. \u201cSurely you understand a brother\u2019s feelings. After all, if it were my brother\u2019s fault that your brother died, you would want revenge.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWasn\u2019t Joe\u2019s fault.\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice was growing weaker.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss, take it easy,\u201d Joe instructed. To Tucker, he said, \u201cYou gotta let me take that bullet out. If that was your brother there with a bullet in him, you\u2019d want somebody to save him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker considered this. \u201cYou\u2019re probably right,\u201d he said at length. \u201cBut you see, my brother is already dead, so it hardly matters now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you\u2019re trying to kill both of them,\u201d said Anna. \u201cTwo deaths to pay for one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot just one,\u201d said Tucker. \u201cYou\u2019re forgetting about Mr. Palmer. One of the brothers pays for Elias, and the other for Mr. Palmer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Joe didn\u2019t kill Richard,\u201d Anna protested.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy dear Miss Simmons, are you calling me a liar?\u201d Tucker tsked.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course not,\u201d she said with a quick glance at Joe. \u201cBut everything happened so fast, and you only saw the killer from the back\u2014everyone would understand if you said you\u2019d made a mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker chuckled. \u201cYou really are quite a lawyer, aren\u2019t you?\u201d He considered Joe, still kneeling, and Hoss lying on the settee. \u201cSince I\u2019m a generous man, I\u2019ll make you a deal,\u201d he said. \u201cTwo of you can stay here. The third will come with Mr. Piper and me to a place where\u2014well, let\u2019s just say it\u2019s a place where that person will stay for the rest of his life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d asked Joe.<\/p>\n

Tucker\u2019s grin widened. \u201cAn execution, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d he said. \u201cNot as public as my brother\u2019s, but that\u2019s unavoidable. I\u2019m afraid that if we did it in Virginia City, the sheriff might not understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re going to hang one of us?\u201d Out of the corner of his eye, Joe saw Anna put her bound hands to her mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, not a hanging,\u201d said Tucker, as casual as though he were discussing what to have for dinner. \u201cI thought of that, but as I found when my brother was murdered, hanging leaves the family with so many other issues\u2014they must take the body to the undertaker, arrange for the burial, attend the funeral. It\u2019s a great deal of trouble at a time when people are already very upset. So, I have something much simpler planned that obviates all of that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Anna\u2019s voice trembled.<\/p>\n

Tucker gestured toward the vial. \u201cWhoever comes with us will be wearing the nitroglycerin,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t expect that it will take too terribly long for the nitro to do what nitro does. When it does\u2014that\u2019ll be that. There will be no remains, nothing to bury. The wearer will simply disappear from this earth as if he was never here at all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen let\u2019s go.\u201d Joe got to his feet as though unaware of Piper\u2019s gun still trained on him.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo fast? You don\u2019t want to discuss it among yourselves?\u201d Tucker raised an eyebrow.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, you can\u2019t,\u201d said Anna in a low voice.<\/p>\n

Joe move closer to her. \u201cWho\u2019s going to go? You? Don\u2019t even think about it,\u201d he added as she opened her mouth. \u201cYou\u2019ve got to stay here with Hoss.\u201d His voice dropped. \u201cHe\u2019s going to need you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe.\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice was even weaker. \u201cCan\u2019t. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, Big Brother, I can,\u201d said Joe. He approached the settee, and when Tucker didn\u2019t stop him, he sat on the edge of the table. \u201cListen, I\u2019m coming back, but if\u2014if something happens, you\u2019ve gotta promise me something.\u201d His eyes were dark and intense. \u201cPromise me you two are going to get married.\u201d He turned back to Anna. \u201cGive up all this foolishness and be happy together.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright, what are you talking about?\u201d Tucker demanded. \u201cWhy would Miss Simmons marry your brother?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause they\u2019re in love,\u201d snapped Joe. \u201cNot that you\u2019d know anything about loving someone. All you know about is hate and revenge.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, don\u2019t,\u201d Hoss whispered.<\/p>\n

Tucker looked from Anna to Hoss and back. All at once, he seemed disconcerted, as though some basic fact he\u2019d always believed, like water is wet, had just been proven incorrect. He pointed first to one, then to the other. \u201cYou two?\u201d To Anna, he said, \u201cYou love him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWith all my heart,\u201d she said, but she was looking at Hoss when she spoke. \u201cI always have,\u201d she added.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the two of you are going to get married?\u201d Tucker still seemed confused.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf she\u2019ll still have me,\u201d Hoss murmured. He held out his hand. \u201cWill you marry the biggest dang fool on the Comstock?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, but I\u2019ll marry you,\u201d she breathed. When Tucker appeared too stunned at this information to stop her, she ran across the room and leaned over Hoss, kissing him for the first time in far too long.<\/p>\n

Then, they broke apart. At the same moment, they turned to Joe, who sat motionless, the vial hanging from his neck.<\/p>\n

Anna stood. \u201cPlease, Marcus,\u201d she said. \u201cDon\u2019t take Joe away from us.\u201d Her voice dropped, becoming more intimate. \u201cYou know what it\u2019s like to lose someone you love. Don\u2019t do that to us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker pulled himself from his reverie. \u201cYou think I should just forget about my brother\u2019s death, is that it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she said. \u201cWe\u2019re all terribly sorry that things turned out as they did. The notion of an innocent man hanging\u2014\u201d She broke off at the unexpected snort of laughter from across the room. They all turned to Piper, who was adjusting his expression.<\/p>\n

\u201cPiper!\u201d Tucker snapped.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d said Piper.<\/p>\n

Joe looked sharply from Piper to Tucker. \u201cWhat does he know?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe knows my brother was a good man,\u201d said Tucker, fixing his accomplice with a cold stare.<\/p>\n

Joe watched Piper, who was once again stone-faced. \u201cDoes he?\u201d he asked. \u201cOr maybe he knows something else. Maybe he knows that your brother didn\u2019t kill Eleanor Gunther, but that he killed somebody else? Maybe even a lot of somebody elses. Is that it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBe careful, Cartwright,\u201d said Tucker. He reached toward the cord around Joe\u2019s neck, pursing his lips with disdain.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s it, isn\u2019t it? That\u2019s what got you so mad\u2014not that your brother wasn\u2019t a killer, but that he hanged for the wrong killing. All this time, I felt so bad that an innocent man had died, and it turns out he wasn\u2019t innocent at all. He was a killer, just like you.\u201d He shook his head in wonder. \u201cWho did he kill, Tucker? How many people did your brother kill?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe.\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice was faint.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, don\u2019t,\u201d said Anna.<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up, Cartwright!\u201d Tucker was on his feet, fists clenched. \u201cYou\u2019re coming with me, now! Piper, you take care of these two.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou said you\u2019d leave them if I came with you.\u201d Joe fought to hide his sudden panic.<\/p>\n

\u201cI changed my mind,\u201d Tucker snapped. He grabbed Joe\u2019s arm. \u201cLet\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Hoss murmured. \u201cMe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be ridiculous,\u201d said Tucker. \u201cYou\u2019re not going to live out the day. If I was going to take one of you two, it would be her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen take me,\u201d said Anna suddenly. \u201cI\u2019ll go with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna, you can\u2019t!\u201d Joe burst out.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can,\u201d she said, moving closer to Tucker. She dropped her eyes, looking at him through her lashes as she favored him with her special smile that never failed to charm the most indifferent of men. Remarkably, Marcus seemed transfixed, and she continued, \u201cYou and I could go away together, just the two of us. We could go to San Francisco and live in style.\u201d She stroked Tucker\u2019s arm with her bound hands, and he let go of Joe without seeming to realize that he did so. Her deep blue eyes held his pale ones as she continued, \u201cWe could have a beautiful house right on Nob Hill, and we\u2019d have dinner parties and entertain the cream of San Francisco society. . . .\u201d Her hands ran down his arm as she spoke, her soft voice mesmerizing the pudgy little man.<\/p>\n

In the next instant, she\u2019d yanked Joe\u2019s gun from Tucker\u2019s waistband. Gunshots erupted, and Anna screamed as Piper fell backward, the dark red stain appearing instantly on his dirty gray shirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou whore!\u201d Tucker spat as he jerked the gun from her hand. \u201cYou never liked me. You were just\u2014\u201d He glared at her, at Hoss and then at Joe. To Anna, he said, \u201cI should kill you, but I\u2019m not going to. Better you should live a long and miserable life, because this one\u2014\u201d he gestured to Hoss \u201c\u2014will be dead before morning, and when you hear the explosion, you\u2019ll know that this one\u2014\u201d he yanked Joe\u2019s arm, and Anna gasped \u201c\u2014is dead, too\u2014blown into a million tiny pieces.\u201d To Joe, he said, \u201cSay your goodbyes, Cartwright. It\u2019s time to go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe.\u201d Tears spilled down Anna\u2019s cheeks. Hoss reached out his hand as though Joe could grasp it.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be back,\u201d Joe promised. He ignored Tucker\u2019s snort of derision, meeting first his brother\u2019s eyes and then Anna\u2019s. \u201cI\u2019m coming back,\u201d he repeated.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s go, Cartwright.\u201d Tucker gripped Joe\u2019s upper arm tightly and propelled him to the door, where he paused just long enough to sneer at Anna and Hoss. \u201cListen for the explosion,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

And with that, he shoved Joe out the door ahead of him, slamming it closed behind them.<\/p>\n

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

Anna stroked Hoss\u2019s hair with a trembling hand. She\u2019d heard the hoof beats as horses left the yard, and she closed her eyes to hold back the tears. There wasn\u2019t time to act like a girl now.<\/p>\n

At least Hoss had been able to untie her hands. Tucker had been so certain of Hoss\u2019s imminent death that he\u2019d never bothered to tie the big man\u2019s hands. Tucker had seriously underestimated her beloved\u2019s strength.<\/p>\n

The bandage around his leg was growing wet with blood. She\u2019d have given anything if they were in town, but they weren\u2019t. There was no one to send for a doctor, and no time anyway. If she left him here and rode like the devil, she might still be too late.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you hear me?\u201d she asked. He nodded slightly, his eyes closed. \u201cI\u2019ll be right back,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m going to find something else for your leg.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKitchen,\u201d managed Hoss.<\/p>\n

\u201cBandages are in the kitchen?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss nodded. \u201cAnd knives,\u201d he said. \u201cGotta get the bullet out.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna had never been punched in the stomach, but at the moment, she felt as though a fist had slammed into her midsection, forcing all the breath from her body. \u201cAre you sure?\u201d she managed after what seemed an eternity. When he nodded, she confessed, \u201cI\u2019ve never done anything like that before\u2014I\u2019ve never even seen it done.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll tell you what to do,\u201d Hoss said, but his voice was so weak she had to bend close to hear him.<\/p>\n

Minutes later, she was in the yard, drawing water from the well and praying desperately for someone, anyone, to come along and help. She was a lawyer, not a doctor. Never in her life had she cut into human flesh. She\u2019d heard that this was the kind of thing that happened out west\u2014people did for themselves and managed as best they could, and when there were no doctors they just handled things themselves. Still, never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined that the day might come when she would be slicing into her beloved\u2019s body to hunt for a piece of lead before he bled to death.<\/p>\n

She hauled up the bucket and set it on the side of the well to unhook it. On tiptoe, she leaned over to reach the hook, but it was too far. When she tried again, she lost her balance, and for an instant, she thought she would fall, but she caught herself on the side. Her heart pounded as the unhooked bucket fell down into the well, and she stepped back, closing her eyes for an instant.<\/p>\n

All right, then. There wasn\u2019t time to get flustered. She ran into the kitchen and retrieved one of Hop Sing\u2019s largest kettles, which she carried back out to the pump. Frantically, she pumped until it was full, only to find that it was too heavy to carry. She spilled out some of the water and hauled it inside, barely managing to get it up on the stove.<\/p>\n

The stove. Hop Sing would have kept it going all the time, but he was out of town. She poked around, finally finding Hop Sing\u2019s supply of kindling, and she got the fire started. Then, she covered the pot and stood back, fighting fear as she reflected that she\u2019d now finished the only task in this entire procedure that she actually knew how to do.<\/p>\n

Think,<\/em>\u00a0Anna told herself firmly.\u00a0Think like a doctor.<\/em><\/p>\n

All right, then. She yanked drawers open until she found the knives. None of them looked particularly sharp, but Hop Sing kept the whetstone on a side table. She considered the choices, selecting one with a narrow blade as long as her hand. She had no idea how a cook would use it, but it looked like a reasonable choice for\u2014for other things, she amended hastily, not willing to dwell on its immediate purpose.<\/p>\n

Water, knives\u2014what else would they need? Alcohol. Bandages. Towels. She poked through every cabinet, every drawer, until she found a shelf in the pantry that bore a tray of medical supplies\u2014soft white cloths, several small bottles with labels she\u2019d need more light to read, tweezers and other items that bore witness to the frequency with which somebody on the Ponderosa needed doctoring.<\/p>\n

She set the tray on the table and lifted the lid to check on the water. Not even warm. Well, watching wouldn\u2019t speed things along.<\/p>\n

The cloths weren\u2019t very large\u2014just the size of regular hand towels. Not nearly big enough to fit around Hoss\u2019s muscular thigh. She\u2019d have to find something else. She went back through all the drawers and cabinets again, but she found nothing else that seemed to be intended for that use. All right, then. With a silent apology to Mr. Cartwright, she took one tablecloth from the drawer, and then another. They were bigger than she needed, but she could always cut them up if necessary.<\/p>\n

A groan from the living room pulled her attention away from the tablecloths. She darted out of the kitchen to find Hoss trying to sit up. \u201cWhat are you doing? Lie down!\u201d she scolded. \u201cWhat do you need? I\u2019ll get it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss shook his head. \u201cWater,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cFine, I\u2019ll get it,\u201d she said. \u201cJust lie down.\u201d She held her hand against his face to see whether he was running a fever, even though barely two hours had passed since he was shot. She didn\u2019t know much about medicine, but she couldn\u2019t imagine the wound getting infected this soon. Then again, she had no experience with bullet wounds, and maybe it was possible. In any event, his face was cool, and she allowed her hand to linger there as she breathed a silent prayer of thanks.<\/p>\n

She fetched a glass of water, holding it steady as he drank. Then, she set the glass on the table and helped Hoss to lie back. \u201cDo you need anything else?\u201d she asked, smoothing back his hair.<\/p>\n

\u201cLeg,\u201d he murmured, and she saw that the bandage was saturated. For a moment, all she could see was blood\u2014Hoss\u2019s blood, his very life, draining out of him. She started to sway, and she closed her eyes.<\/p>\n

Then, she felt his hand gripping hers. \u201cSit down,\u201d he whispered. \u201cDeep breaths.\u201d<\/p>\n

She forced a smile. \u201cI\u2019m all right,\u201d she lied. She gave his hand a quick squeeze and went back to the kitchen, where she loaded everything that fit onto the tray. Tucking the tablecloths under her arm, she returned to the main room and deposited everything on the low pine table.<\/p>\n

She surveyed the array. \u201cI\u2019ll be right back,\u201d she said, returning moments later with a pair of scissors and two more tablecloths which would serve to cover the bodies of Tucker\u2019s henchmen. The notion of moving them was simply not something she was equipped to deal with right now.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf Hop Sing yells about the settee, tell him it was my fault,\u201d she said with deliberate lightness as she unwrapped the bloody sheet and revealed the rusty stains on the upholstery. \u201cNow, don\u2019t move or I could stab you.\u201d As carefully as possible, she cut through Hoss\u2019s trousers and drawers as high up as she could manage. Then, she slit the fabric down to the cuff and slid the pieces off.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou gotta take my boot off,\u201d Hoss instructed, his voice faint.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d His leg didn\u2019t look swollen below the knee. Still, she supposed it was possible that it could swell up, or something else could happen. There was no question that he knew more than she did about tending bullet wounds. In any case, she\u2019d never gone wrong trusting him.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t seem to have heard her question, so she just said, \u201cHold on.\u201d As Hoss grasped the settee, she tugged until she got his boot off. \u201cAre you all right?\u201d she asked. He nodded, but his face was white, and she leaned over to kiss him. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she whispered. \u201cI\u2019ll try not to hurt you again.\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes were bleary with pain, but remarkably, he smiled. \u201cAs long as you don\u2019t leave me,\u201d he said. \u201cThat\u2019s the only thing you could do that\u2019d hurt me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she kissed him again. \u201cThen I\u2019ll never hurt you again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood.\u201d He squeezed her hand, and for that moment, she was able to convince herself that somehow, everything would be all right.<\/p>\n

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

Joe could feel Tucker looking at him, but he kept his gaze steadfastly ahead. He didn\u2019t know what game the little man was playing, but he was damned if he was going to participate.<\/p>\n

Surely it was the cold night air that made gooseflesh rise on his arms, rather than the deadly vial resting against his chest.<\/p>\n

He knew by now that although Tucker was smart, he was in this thing far over his head. He was too accustomed to having people like Piper to handle details, and now little things were tripping him up.<\/p>\n

Even the fact that they were in a buggy bore testament to Tucker\u2019s incompetence. Out in the yard, he\u2019d told Joe to mount up, apparently forgetting he\u2019d bound Joe\u2019s hands behind his back.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t,\u201d Joe said. When Tucker looked startled, Joe shrugged ever so slightly.<\/p>\n

He waited in insolent silence for Tucker to untie his hands. With each moment that Tucker stood motionless, so clearly at a loss, Joe felt his temper rise. As soon as Tucker untied him, he would fling the nitro as far as he could. Then, he would beat the stuffing out of this sick, twisted bastard who might have cost Hoss his life.<\/p>\n

Just when it seemed that Tucker would have to bow to the inevitable, the little man spotted the rig that Anna had driven out from town. \u201cGet in,\u201d he snapped as though this had been his plan all along.<\/p>\n

Irked, Joe glared. \u201cIf I lose my balance climbing up there with no hands, we\u2019ll both die right here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tucker glared right back. Then, he grabbed Joe\u2019s upper arm and roughly assisted him into the buggy.<\/p>\n

Now, they\u2019d been driving for what seemed like hours\u2014it was hard to tell with the trees blocking the moon. Another fool decision on Tucker\u2019s part\u2014taking the buggy meant they had to stay on the roads, where they might encounter somebody who could help.<\/p>\n

As if he\u2019d heard Joe\u2019s thoughts, Tucker suddenly steered the buggy off the road. The jolt of the rough ground was so unexpected that Joe shut his eyes as though that could protect him from an explosion as the vial bounced off his chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you insane?\u201d he shouted. \u201cStop!\u201d<\/p>\n

Almost genially, Tucker reined in the team. \u201cSo I have your attention,\u201d he said. \u201cThat\u2019s good to know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou idiot! You almost killed us both! Or don\u2019t you care whether you die?\u201d The thought hadn\u2019t occurred to Joe before, but somehow, it was even more chilling than the notion that Tucker would arrange for Joe to be blown up by himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cI care,\u201d said Tucker blandly. He climbed down from the buggy. \u201cGet down.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to help me,\u201d said Joe, hating the words. The last thing in the world he wanted was help from this snake, but he\u2019d be no good to Hoss if he died now.<\/p>\n

Tucker sighed as though Joe was asking something utterly unreasonable, but he helped Joe disembark from the buggy. \u201cOver here,\u201d he said, not releasing Joe\u2019s arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about the horses?\u201d Joe asked. He was gratified when Tucker stopped. Clearly, Tucker was accustomed to having others, such as the two men he\u2019d had with him at the house, take care of details.<\/p>\n

He could feel Tucker\u2019s eyes on him, but he refused to meet them. Then, Tucker released his arm and drew Joe\u2019s gun from his waistband, moving behind him while Joe rolled his eyes as though annoyed at the little man\u2019s incompetence.<\/p>\n

\u201cAfter all this, you\u2019re just going to shoot me in the back? You could have done that at the Ponderosa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBe quiet,\u201d said Tucker. Joe felt him pull up the cord holding the vial, tying it off so that it rested just below his collarbone. Then, Tucker began tugging and pulling at the neckcloth binding Joe\u2019s wrists, and Joe took small satisfaction in the fact that the little man couldn\u2019t seem to get the knot undone while holding the gun. For what seemed a very long time, Tucker fussed with the knot. Finally, he grunted in satisfaction, and Joe\u2019s hands were free.<\/p>\n

Before Joe could move, though, Tucker said, \u201cI still have a gun, Cartwright, and it will be pointed at you at all times. The first time you try anything, you will die. And don\u2019t get any ideas about getting rid of the nitro. You can\u2019t possibly get that cord over your head now\u2014it\u2019s too short, and you\u2019ll die trying.\u201d He allowed his words to settle before he added, \u201cNow, take care of the horses. Put them right over there,\u201d he added, gesturing with the gun barrel to a copse of trees.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf one of those horses throws his head in my direction, we\u2019ll both die,\u201d Joe pointed out. \u201cYou and me, that is\u2014not me and the horse.\u201d He was gratified to see that Tucker looked discomfited at this revelation.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen, I suppose you\u2019d do well to keep them under control,\u201d Tucker said after a minute.<\/p>\n

Jackass,<\/em>\u00a0Joe thought. He was half-tempted to say it aloud, but he forced himself to stay silent. He needed to get help for Hoss, and getting himself shot wasn\u2019t the way to do it.<\/p>\n

Mindful of the gun aimed at his back, Joe tended the horses as he\u2019d done nearly every day since he was old enough to walk. He tried to make the task take longer, but the truth was that there was little to do. He took the horses down to a small stream, but the old adage about leading them to water proved to be inconveniently untrue\u2014these horses drank as though they hadn\u2019t done so in days, finally blowing out their lips in horsy satisfaction. Joe took as long as he could disassembling the harness and reins for a tie-line, but eventually, the leather lay in a heap at his feet and he could feel Tucker\u2019s impatience. Moving as casually as he could, he rigged up the tie-line between two trees and tied up the horses.<\/p>\n

Finally, he turned around, facing the man squarely. \u201cNow what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBring the buggy down here,\u201d said Tucker. \u201cWe don\u2019t want it to be seen from the road.\u201d Gesturing with the gun, he indicated a place under the trees. Joe cursed under his breath as he placed himself between the horse shafts and bent to take hold.<\/p>\n

The pain shooting through his left arm gave him an idea. He gasped, dropping the shafts and clutching his arm. \u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d he said, shaking his head as though he\u2019d been seeing stars. He held up his arm. \u201cMight have been able to before, but you took off the splint. It\u2019s not healed enough. It won\u2019t hold.\u201d He stood still, willing Tucker to believe him. The truth was that the horse shafts weren\u2019t all that heavy, and he was pretty sure he couldn\u2019t rebreak his arm just by straining it even on something a lot heavier, but he was betting that Tucker didn\u2019t have enough experience with either buggies or broken bones to know this. If this little dandy had ever broken his arm, he wouldn\u2019t have been lifting so much as a teacup.<\/p>\n

Tucker stared at him for what seemed to be a long, long time. Even in the moonlight, Joe could almost see him weighing, calculating, the same way Adam did when he was faced with a problem.\u00a0Have to move the buggy, keep Cartwright from getting away, keep him from getting the gun, keep him from blowing us both up, keep from getting discovered.<\/em><\/p>\n

Yeah, you got a lot of problems, all right,\u00a0Joe thought.\u00a0And you brought every last one of them on yourself, you sick bastard.<\/em>\u00a0He stood still, offering nothing as his captor wrestled with the immediate situation.<\/p>\n

\u201cOver there,\u201d said Tucker finally, gesturing for Joe to move to the outside of the shank. \u201cNo, the other one,\u201d he snapped when Joe deliberately moved to his right. Joe moved so that he was on the outside of the left side of the buggy, watching warily as Tucker moved to the outside of the right side.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re putting it down there,\u201d Tucker said, gesturing down the slope with the gun barrel. Then, he took hold of the shank on his side with one hand as he kept the gun trained on Joe with the other. \u201cLet\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n

Glaring daggers in the darkness, Joe lifted the shank with his right hand. All right, maybe Tucker wasn\u2019t as stupid as he\u2019d thought. That didn\u2019t mean he was going to win. He couldn\u2019t. Joe wouldn\u2019t let him.<\/p>\n

His brother\u2019s life depended on it.<\/p>\n

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

He couldn\u2019t remember a bullet wound ever hurting this much. No question about it\u2014the bullet had cracked the bone. It would be weeks before he was on his feet.<\/p>\n

She was wiping his face with a cool, wet cloth, but she didn\u2019t need to. Just the sight of her, the sound of her voice\u2014that was all he needed. The memory of her words when Tucker asked if she loved him:\u00a0With all my heart. I always have.<\/em><\/p>\n

He reached for her, and she took his hand, holding it against her lips. \u201cYou\u2019re going to be all right,\u201d she said, and her voice was as sweet and low as it had been in his dreams every night during all these months apart.<\/p>\n

But it wasn\u2019t that simple. \u201cJoe,\u201d he managed. Joe was out there somewhere with that madman, and there wasn\u2019t a thing they could do about it.<\/p>\n

She dipped the cloth in the bowl and wrung it out before pressing it against the crease on his forehead. \u201cHe\u2019ll be all right,\u201d she said. \u201cYou know Joe. He\u2019s like cat with nine lives. He always finds a way out of trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut that Tucker fellow. . . .\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice trailed off. His memory was foggy, but he knew there\u2019d been gunfire, fighting, and nitroglycerin.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d she said, and he knew she did. \u201cBut Joe said he\u2019ll be back. He\u2019s going to bring help for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She sounded so sure, but she had to know. . . . \u201cYou really think so?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe promised,\u201d she said. \u201cNow, you need to rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

But he couldn\u2019t. He needed to know she wasn\u2019t just patting him down. She\u2019d seen everything, and she wouldn\u2019t lie to him. So he took her hand and held it until she met his eyes. \u201cYou really think Joe can get away from Tucker an\u2019 get back here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cListen to me,\u201d she said. \u201cThis is Joe we\u2019re talking about. I may not know everything about him, but I know this much. If he said he\u2019ll come back, he\u2019ll do everything in his power to get back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss swallowed hard. He\u2019d once worried because she\u2019d doubted Joe. How foolish his worries seemed now. \u201cYou believe that,\u201d he said, and it wasn\u2019t quite a question.<\/p>\n

She nodded. \u201cI do,\u201d she said. \u201cBecause he promised you. And for the people he loves, Joe Cartwright would storm the very gates of hell.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss considered this. She was right, of course. But it didn\u2019t guarantee that his little brother would come back alive.<\/p>\n

The pain washed over him again, and he gritted his teeth as he closed his eyes. He felt the cloth on his face and heard her gentle voice, but as the blackness descended, the last thing he could see was his little brother, shaking the bars of hell and demanding that they let him go.<\/p>\n

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

As they trundled the buggy down the rise until it wasn\u2019t visible from the road, Marcus watched Cartwright out of the corner of his eye. Arrogant son of a bitch: one good arm, a vial of nitro around his neck, and his brother dying, and still he acted as though Marcus didn\u2019t know what he was doing.<\/p>\n

It would have served him right if Marcus up and shot him right now. If he\u2019d been confident that the posse was out of earshot, he might have done just that.<\/p>\n

Truth was, he wasn\u2019t entirely certain why he hadn\u2019t already killed Cartwright. That had been his original plan: have the mock trial for the Palmer murder, find Cartwright guilty, and kill him then and there. Save the nitro for another day, and just hang Cartwright on the tree over by the barn so that his old man would see him when he came home.<\/p>\n

But then things started going wrong. Maybe it was watching Cartwright trying to protect his brother and the girl. He\u2019d dealt with Cartwright\u2019s type before\u2014somebody always had to be the hero\u2014but there was something about seeing it play out in front of him this time that was almost disconcerting. So, he\u2019d raised the stakes by bringing in the nitro, but if that fazed Cartwright, he gave no sign. Instead, Joe Cartwright sat on that table, the vial hanging around his neck, blithely promising his injured brother that he\u2019d return when he had to know damned well it would never happen, and the next thing Marcus knew, he wasn\u2019t watching the Cartwright brothers at all. . . .<\/p>\n

For long days and longer nights, as they waited to see whether Elias would lose his eye, Marcus sat beside the child\u2019s cot. With gentler fingers than anyone would have expected, he smeared the charred skin with the smelly ointment the blacksmith had reluctantly left for them; the big man had grumbled about what would happen to him if he burned himself, but a maimed, terrified child was apparently more than he could walk away from. As his little brother sobbed in pain and fear, Marcus held Elias\u2019s hand, apologizing over and over for not watching him better. Nothing else\u2014not the blacksmith\u2019s shouts, not his mother\u2019s screams, not even the return of his drunken father\u2014meant anything to Marcus. Ignoring his father\u2019s shouts of \u201cwhore\u201d and his mother\u2019s shrieks of pain as Pa\u2019s fists rained down on her, Marcus stayed with his little brother, promising Elias that everything would be all right\u2014even though, like Joe Cartwright, he knew he was lying.<\/em><\/p>\n

So maybe that was what had thrown him off balance. Or maybe it was this startling news about Anna Simmons being in love with the big Cartwright, the one you\u2019d never think could find any girl at all. The notion that somebody who looked like that could win a woman like Anna Simmons had definitely caught Marcus off-guard. That was why he\u2019d believed her\u2014just for an instant, but yes, he\u2019d believed\u2014when she spoke of going off to San Francisco with him. If she could love Hoss Cartwright, who was big and plain and rough-spoken\u2014if she chose a man like this over the handsome Mr. Palmer\u2014then just maybe, she could love Marcus Tucker.<\/p>\n

But within seconds, his hopes were dashed, and he hated her most of all. That was why he\u2019d left her alive. Her beloved would die, Joe Cartwright would die, and there she would be, left alone to spend a lifetime grieving.<\/p>\n

He should have killed both Cartwrights right then; he knew that now. True, they\u2019d both end up dead, but it would have been much more efficient just to shoot them and be done with it. Of course, that was normally Watson\u2019s job, and Watson was dead. So was Piper. Two useful men gone. If only he hadn\u2019t sent Carson back to join Edwards in the posse\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cTucker!\u201d Cartwright hissed, stopping dead.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? We\u2019re putting it over there,\u201d said Marcus, annoyed.<\/p>\n

\u201cQuiet!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t move.\u201d The words were barely audible, as though Cartwright thought there was someone who might overhear.<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright, I\u2019ve still got the gun right here\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGrizzly!\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus felt his stomach drop. Without thinking, he dropped the buggy shank. \u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n

Silently, Cartwright pointed. Marcus squinted, but he saw nothing except blackness. He was about to ask again when he heard the rustling near the stream. He squinted harder, and he thought he saw something moving.<\/p>\n

\u201cShoot it!\u201d hissed Cartwright.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t see\u2014\u201d But the rustling sounded closer.<\/p>\n

\u201cGive me the gun!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you insane? You\u2019ll just shoot me and run away!\u201d<\/p>\n

Cartwright swore. \u201cShoot, damn you!\u201d When Marcus hesitated, Cartwright grabbed for the gun. Instinctively, Marcus squeezed the trigger, and a howl from near the stream let him know that the bullet had found its mark.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere? Are you satisfied?\u201d But the words were barely out of Marcus\u2019s mouth when he heard a growl, fierce and furious.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou only wounded it! Finish it off, now!\u201d Cartwright ordered.<\/p>\n

Marcus raised the gun, but he could barely hear the growl over the pounding of his heart. Squinting into the darkness, he aimed at what seemed to be the blackest shape, pulled the trigger\u2014<\/p>\n

\u2014and heard the click of the hammer against an empty chamber.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m out of bullets!\u201d Frantically, he tried to remember whether he\u2019d had the presence of mind to throw Piper\u2019s and Watson\u2019s saddlebags into the buggy, but before he could sort it out, Cartwright was grabbing his arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cRun!\u201d<\/p>\n

The black shape was definitely closer now. Marcus threw down the gun and lit out after Cartwright.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d Marcus panted as they headed up a steep hill. Cartwright didn\u2019t bother answering. Probably he was more concerned about not jostling the nitro.\u00a0Good thinking,<\/em>Marcus conceded.<\/p>\n

Panting, he slipped and slid on wet grass and pine needles as he tried to follow Cartwright. Behind them, he heard growling and crashing, and he knew that the bear was gaining. Vaguely, he recalled something about grizzlies being slower when they were going uphill, but this one didn\u2019t seem to be having difficulty with the climb.<\/p>\n

\u201cUp there!\u201d He could barely make out Cartwright pointing to a tree.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t!\u201d To his own ears, Marcus sounded like Elias, his voice high-pitched and breathy.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn it, Tucker, come\u00a0on!<\/em>\u201d Remarkably, Cartwright ran back down the hill and grabbed his arm, practically dragging him to the tree. \u201cGet up there!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t!\u201d But he was reaching up even as he protested, and Cartwright was shoving him from underneath until his fingers closed around the branch. \u201cWait!\u201d he called as his arm knocked his glasses to the ground. Cartwright swore and shoved again, and then, miraculously, his pudgy body was balanced on the branch, arms and legs wrapped around it as he strained in the darkness to see anything at all.<\/p>\n

The crashing and growling were closer. He felt the branch shake as Cartwright climbed past him, and he closed his eyes as if it would make any difference at all. From far above him, he heard Cartwright shout, \u201cHold on!\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus clung to the branch an instant before an explosion rocked it. Moments later, he heard the crackling of branches from above. His own branch cracked and broke off as something large struck it, and everything crashed to the ground.<\/p>\n

For what seemed an eternity, he gasped for the breath that had been knocked out of him. Then, as he regained his breath, he realized that he heard nothing. No growling. No crashing. No Cartwright. Even the songs of the peepers had ceased.<\/p>\n

Slowly, he lifted his head and squinted into the darkness. \u201cCartwright?\u201d No answer. \u201cCartwright!\u201d He waited, and when no response came, he got clumsily to his feet. \u201cCartwright!\u201d He took a step, and another, and then he tripped over something larger and softer than a branch. He dropped to his knees, and even in the dark, he knew what he\u2019d found.<\/p>\n

Joe Cartwright.<\/p>\n

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

Long years as a lawman had taught Roy Coffee how to waken instantly, from deep sleep to full alertness. He sat bolt upright, eyes darting back and forth, even before the last rumble of the explosion ceased.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, men!\u201d he barked. \u201cLet\u2019s ride out!\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Hoss\u2019s eyes snapped open. There it was. The distant rumble he had dreaded, had feared above all else.<\/p>\n

Anna was reaching for him. After she\u2019d gotten the bullet out and bandaged his leg, she\u2019d pulled Pa\u2019s chair up beside the settee. For the rest of the night, he\u2019d drifted in and out of sleep, feeling her light, loving touch on his shoulder, his face, his hand. But now, she was out of the chair, kneeling beside the settee.<\/p>\n

It couldn\u2019t be real. It couldn\u2019t be. He\u2019d been shot. He was running a fever. He was delirious. He was out of his head. Soon, the fever would break, and he\u2019d see Joe standing beside him, grinning that lopsided grin and telling a whopper of a tale about how he\u2019d escaped.<\/p>\n

But Anna was holding his hand against her cheek. Her cheek, so soft\u2014it was wet, like she\u2019d been crying. Crying for Joe.<\/p>\n

But Joe was coming back. He\u2019d said so.<\/p>\n

That stupid, ornery little fool.\u00a0I\u2019ll be back,<\/em>\u00a0he\u2019d promised. He\u2019d had stood here just hours ago, defiant and angry as Tucker tried to destroy their lives. With a gun trained on him and a vial of nitroglycerin around his neck, Joe had vowed that he would return.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d made a promise, and Joe didn\u2019t break his promises.<\/p>\n

The world started to spin, and time tumbled backward. Hoss saw the red-faced baby he\u2019d held in his arms when he was six years old, and the curly-haired toddler who\u2019d tagged everywhere after him, and the stubborn little boy who wanted to do everything his big brothers did.<\/p>\n

He saw the skinny kid who got in more trouble at school than his big brothers combined, and the scrappy teenager who rode like the wind on horses Pa didn\u2019t know he was riding.<\/p>\n

He saw the young man whose green eyes and crooked grin had charmed all the girls, and as he tried to make himself understand that he would never see that grin again, the fiery slash of agony in his heart was like nothing he\u2019d ever felt.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe,\u201d he whispered. He searched Anna\u2019s face, and she nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t right. Joe had tried so hard. He\u2019d tried so hard to live through the aftermath of that massacre. And now, just when it seemed like he might really make it, a madman had stolen that chance.<\/p>\n

No more Joe. It was unthinkable.<\/p>\n

\u201cLittle Brother.\u201d His voice broke.<\/p>\n

And in the moment before Anna took him in her arms, Hoss understood that he\u2019d really never believed this day would come.<\/p>\n

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

Marcus wasn\u2019t sure how long he\u2019d been sitting there, but Cartwright still hadn\u2019t moved. In the gray light of dawn, he looked like he was dead. Marcus wasn\u2019t sure why, but a frisson of fear ran down his spine at the thought.<\/p>\n

What\u2019s the matter? It\u2019s what you wanted, isn\u2019t it?<\/em><\/p>\n

It was, but suddenly, it wasn\u2019t. He couldn\u2019t have explained it, but for the first time he could remember, he wanted Cartwright not to be dead.<\/p>\n

He moved over next to where Cartwright lay. He reached out, then drew his hand back. He watched, willing the other man to move. Finally, he reached out and shook Cartwright\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright! Wake up!\u201d<\/p>\n

Nothing.<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright!\u201d<\/p>\n

Still nothing.<\/p>\n

Tentatively, Marcus rested his fingertips on Cartwright\u2019s neck. Just as he thought he\u2019d felt something, the other man\u2019s eyes fluttered open.<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright! Are you all right?\u201d A stupid question, but it was all he could think of.<\/p>\n

Cartwright coughed and cringed. \u201cAre you all right?\u201d Marcus asked again.<\/p>\n

The other man lay still as though considering the question. Then, he tried to shift his body. \u201cHelp me sit up,\u201d he managed. Marcus did as requested, but he wasn\u2019t at all sure it was a good idea when Cartwright doubled over.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it? What did you do?\u201d Marcus asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cArm,\u201d said Cartwright between clenched teeth. Marcus looked at the arm Cartwright had favored the night before, and he felt the blood drain from his face when he saw it bent in between the wrist and elbow.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I mean\u2014what\u2014where\u2019s the grizzly? What did you do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThrew the nitro.\u201d The words were more breath than voice.<\/p>\n

For a minute, Marcus felt again as though the breath had been knocked out of him. \u201cYou damned fool,\u201d he managed finally. When he thought of everything that could have gone wrong with such an idiotic plan\u2014a bad throw, the cord getting caught on a branch, the cork coming out of the vial\u2014that the bear was dead instead of them was sheer providence and no mistake about it. For the first time in longer than he could recall, Marcus Tucker tasted gratitude.<\/p>\n

Cartwright was trying to stand up, but he wasn\u2019t having much success. \u201cSit down, you fool!\u201d Marcus snapped as though he were speaking to Elias again. He pushed Cartwright to sit down. \u201cLet me see your arm.\u201d Without waiting for an answer, he tore the jacket sleeve, unbuttoned the shirt cuff and pushed back the sleeve. \u201cOh, God.\u201d Marcus turned away, his stomach rebelling. He hadn\u2019t expected to see bone poking through the skin.<\/p>\n

He turned back to see Cartwright breathing heavily. His face was dotted with sweat, and he was trying to stand up again. \u201cWould you just sit down!\u201d Marcus ordered.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t,\u201d said Cartwright. \u201cHoss needs help.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cHoss. Gotta get help.\u201d Cartwright lurched to his feet and began stumbling down the hill.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the\u2014are you insane?\u201d Marcus hustled after him. \u201cHow are you planning to get help? What do you think you\u2019re going to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDunno.\u201d Cartwright didn\u2019t seem inclined to waste breath on conversation.<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright\u2014get back here!\u201d But Cartwright wasn\u2019t stopping, and after a minute, Marcus threw up his hands and followed. The man had no gun, no nitro, no weapon of any kind. Besides, he\u2019d probably pass out before he got to the bottom of the hill. Might as well let him get down under his own steam. Marcus could figure out what to do then.<\/p>\n

As they slipped and slid down the hill, Marcus found himself thinking about this strange man who was Joe Cartwright. Back at the house, the fellow had tried to save his brother and Anna Simmons by fighting Marcus, and Marcus knew Cartwright would have killed him then if it hadn\u2019t been for Piper.<\/p>\n

Then, Cartwright had volunteered to go away with Marcus to protect his brother and the girl. Marcus understood that; in fact, while he\u2019d never have said so, he almost admired that choice.<\/p>\n

But then came the part that didn\u2019t make sense: Cartwright helping Marcus escape from the grizzly. Why had he bothered with Marcus? He could have just slipped away as soon as he saw the bear; after all, Marcus hadn\u2019t even known it was there. Granted, Marcus still had the gun and maybe that kept Cartwright from trying anything, but once the gun was empty, he could easily have escaped\u2014there was no question that Cartwright could have outrun Marcus, leaving him behind as bear bait. Instead, Cartwright had dragged Marcus away from the buggy and up that hill, and then he\u2019d shoved him up into the tree before climbing up himself.<\/p>\n

As he stumbled down the hill, Marcus turned the notion over and over in his mind, trying to figure out a logical explanation. Instead, he kept returning to the same perplexing fact: Joe Cartwright, who had less reason than any man on earth to care what happened to Marcus Tucker, had risked his own life to save the man who had probably killed his brother.<\/p>\n

It was taking much, much longer to get down the hill than it had to get up. Of course, they weren\u2019t running this time. Plus, Marcus didn\u2019t have his spectacles any more, and Cartwright was barely on his feet, stumbling and bumping into trees. He\u2019d staggered around the one the nitro had felled, not even seeming to notice when his green jacket snagged on its branches until Marcus released it. How that fellow thought he was going to get help for his brother was anybody\u2019s guess. Even with the buggy, it was a long ride to anywhere, and it was clear that Joe Cartwright wasn\u2019t going to make it much farther.<\/p>\n

The sound of horses echoed through the early morning. \u201cWhat the\u2014?\u201d Then, his stomach lurched, because he knew who it was.<\/p>\n

Cartwright had lifted his head. \u201cHey!\u201d he shouted as loudly as he could, which wasn\u2019t very loud. \u201cHey!\u201d He picked up his pace, lurching down the hill and waving his good arm. \u201cHey!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright!\u201d Marcus called. \u201cShut up!\u201d<\/p>\n

If Cartwright heard him, he gave no sign. \u201cHey! Over here!\u201d<\/p>\n

Maybe it was the wounded brother, or the grizzly, or the tree . . . Marcus didn\u2019t know why, but suddenly, he had to stop Cartwright from going out there. He knew in his gut that what he\u2019d heard was the posse that was supposed to be a lynch mob. He tried to run, but he lost his footing on the dew-soaked grass and landed flat on his back. \u201cCartwright, you fool, don\u2019t do it!\u201d he shouted as he struggled to his feet. \u201cStop! Don\u2019t go out there!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey!\u201d Cartwright was yelling as he emerged from the trees into the clearing. \u201cOver here! Roy! It\u2019s Joe! Joe Cartwright!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLittle Joe?\u201d Dear God, it was the sheriff. Carson and Edwards were with him. It would be over before anybody could stop them.<\/p>\n

As Marcus burst into the clearing, he shouted, \u201cCartwright! No!\u201d Running faster than he ever had, he lunged toward the man who was now stumbling toward the posse.<\/p>\n

And in the split second before he heard the shot, Marcus caught a glimpse of the rising sun glinting off Edwards\u2019 red hair as he lifted his rifle to take aim at Joe Cartwright.<\/p>\n

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

Anna stirred at the sound of hooves in the yard. Her eyes felt scratchy and swollen, and her chest ached. She\u2019d forgotten what it was like to cry so hard it hurt.<\/p>\n

Instinctively, she looked to see whether the sound had disturbed Hoss. That he\u2019d been willing to take whiskey at all was a sign of how much his leg was hurting, because she knew he\u2019d never have taken anything to dull the other pain. Nothing could ease that pain anyway.<\/p>\n

She heard voices in the yard. At first, she couldn\u2019t make them out, but then, she heard Mr. Cartwright\u2019s distinctive baritone, and agony squeezed her heart at the thought of having to tell him what had happened. She knew she should get up, should go to him and tell him, but she couldn\u2019t. Let him have just another minute or two of blessed ignorance. It wouldn\u2019t change the news, but once he knew, he could never again not know. Let him have a few more moments before that horrific anguish took over his life.<\/p>\n

The door opened, and Ben came in. He took in the sight before him\u2014Anna in his chair, bodies draped with tablecloths, blood on the floor. He saw the grief in her face, and he went pale as she rose.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Cartwright,\u201d she began, but he was already leaning over the settee.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss,\u201d he breathed. \u201cHoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss\u2019s eyes opened slightly. \u201cPa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, thank heaven.\u201d He held Hoss\u2019s hand to his face. \u201cAre you all right, son?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa,\u201d he murmured again. There was commotion in the yard, and Anna heard Adam\u2019s voice and the sheriff\u2019s among others. She rested her hand on Hoss\u2019s arm and shook her head slightly. Better to tell them all at once.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he all right?\u201d Ben asked Anna over the clack of boots crossing the wooden porch.<\/p>\n

She nodded. \u201cI got the bullet out of his leg last night, but the doctor should probably still look at it.\u201d She stroked Hoss\u2019s hair, and their eyes met.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou took the bullet out?\u201d Coming in the door, Adam sounded mildly surprised.<\/p>\n

Anna nodded without looking up from Hoss. \u201cHoss told me what to do, and I did it.\u201d<\/p>\n

From the doorway came another, lighter voice. \u201cI hear there\u2019s some tribes up in the Dakotas where you take a bullet out of a man, and that means you\u2019re married.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anna froze. It couldn\u2019t be. It wasn\u2019t possible. And yet\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cAnna,\u201d whispered Hoss, unbelieving. More afraid than she\u2019d ever been, she forced herself to look up, and\u2014<\/p>\n

\u2014there in the doorway, bedraggled but whole, stood Joe Cartwright.<\/p>\n

Hoss was struggling to sit up. \u201cJoe?\u201d he called.<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you I\u2019d be back,\u201d Joe said, trying to sound nonchalant, but his voice was unsteady. He leaned on Adam as he made his way across the room. \u201cHey, Big Brother, how\u2019re you doing? Is he okay?\u201d he added to Anna.<\/p>\n

Her tears spilled over as she nodded, clutching Hoss\u2019s hands. \u201cHe\u2019s okay,\u201d she tried to say, but her voice broke. She shoved Ben\u2019s chair back so that Joe could get to Hoss. She wanted nothing more than to fling her arms around the young man, but Hoss needed him more.<\/p>\n

Adam eased Joe in between the settee and the table. To Hoss, he said, \u201cGlad to see you\u2019re all right.\u201d Hoss grinned at his older brother, but he was reaching for Joe, who took his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou big galoot,\u201d said Joe. \u201cWhat\u2019re you trying to do to her? She\u2019s a lawyer, not a doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust get your sorry carcass over here,\u201d said Hoss. He reached up for his brother, and Joe sat on the very edge of the settee and gave him the biggest one-armed hug he could give a man who was lying down.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe heard the explosion.\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice was shaky.<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. \u201cI figured as much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure you\u2019re okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe held up his splinted arm. \u201cIt\u2019s a long story\u2014but yeah, I\u2019m okay. What about you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust fine now,\u201d said Hoss, his eyes glistening.<\/p>\n

Joe turned to Anna. \u201cWhat about you? Are you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

She leaned down and gave him the biggest hug a woman could give a man who had only one good arm. \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d she whispered. \u201cAbsolutely fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cFor the love of Pete, would you tell me what you\u2019re doing here?\u201d demanded Joe.<\/p>\n

Anna looked up from the contract on her desk.\u00a0 \u201cI could ask you the same question, you know,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cI thought the best man was supposed to be taking care of the groom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, since Adam\u2019s sort of co-best man, we figured he\u2019d take care of Hoss, and I\u2019d come and round you up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd just what made you think I\u2019d need to be rounded up?\u201d asked Anna.\u00a0 She crossed out a line and made a note in the margin.\u00a0 \u201cThere, that\u2019s done.\u201d\u00a0 She looked Joe up and down, smiling.\u00a0 \u201cYou look quite handsome,\u201d she said approvingly.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I\u2019m sure you\u2019ll make a lovely bride if you ever get yourself dressed so I can take you out to the Ponderosa,\u201d said Joe.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s plenty of time,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cMy dress and all my things are already out there.\u00a0 All I need to take out to the ranch is myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, then, let\u2019s go,\u201d said Joe.\u00a0 \u201cThe buggy\u2019s right outside.\u201d\u00a0 Gallantly, he offered her his right arm.\u00a0 His left arm was finally out of its cast and sling, but it still hurt more than he was willing to let on.\u00a0 He had a suspicion that Hoss had noticed him favoring it, but for once, his big brother hadn\u2019t fussed.<\/p>\n

Joe pulled the door closed behind them.\u00a0 Then, he turned to grin at her.\u00a0 \u201cWhat?\u201d she asked, unable to resist smiling back.<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember the day you first came to Virginia City,\u201d he said, helping her into the buggy.\u00a0 \u201cIt was a spring day, and we all thought you were the most beautiful woman we\u2019d ever seen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cYou and Adam were falling all over yourselves to impress me, and Hoss was\u2014Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYep,\u201d said Joe.\u00a0 He clucked to the horse.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s the great thing about Hoss.\u00a0 He\u2019s always just Hoss.\u00a0 The best there ever was.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d Anna said reflectively.\u00a0 She let her mind wander through her memories of him.\u00a0 Such an incredible man, and she\u2019d come so close to letting him get away.<\/p>\n

She watched Joe as he drove.\u00a0 There was a peace about him that she hadn\u2019t seen in a long, long time.\u00a0 As Joe and Hoss convalesced, the two brothers had spent many hours in Hoss\u2019s room with the door firmly closed.\u00a0 No one else knew for certain what they\u2019d been discussing, but in the weeks since that awful night, Joe\u2019s nightmares had all but ceased, and his fugue episodes seemed to be nearly gone.\u00a0 Whether it was because of something said during these long private talks, or whether it was simply that the time had come, no one could say.\u00a0 All they knew was that, at long last, Joe Cartwright was healing.<\/p>\n

Nobody knew why Marcus Tucker had done what he\u2019d done, either.\u00a0 Two days afterward, when Doc had decreed Joe well enough to answer questions, Roy Coffee came out to the Ponderosa.\u00a0 He described the scene of that morning:\u00a0 Joe emerging from the trees, barely on his feet as he waved and called to them.\u00a0 Marcus Tucker yelling at him not to do something.\u00a0 Out of the corner of his eye, Roy saw one of the men in the posse raise his rifle.\u00a0 Before Roy could do more than start to shout, he saw a most amazing thing:\u00a0 Tucker leapt, flinging himself at Joe and knocking him to the ground just as the shot rang out.\u00a0 Roy shouted and drew his gun, and within moments, the red-haired man was dead.\u00a0 Then, Roy got himself off his horse and ran faster than he\u2019d have thought possible to the place where Tucker and Cartwright lay.<\/p>\n

\u201cNever would have thought it,\u201d he\u2019d marveled, shaking his head as he regarded Joe Cartwright, who sat in the blue velvet chair, his arm properly splinted and held in a sling.\u00a0 \u201cIf you\u2019d asked me, I\u2019da sworn Marcus Tucker couldn\u2019t do something like that, but I seen it with my own two eyes.\u00a0 If he hadn\u2019ta shoved Little Joe like he did, woulda been Joe who\u2019da got killed instead of Tucker.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess you just never know what goes on inside a man\u2019s head\u2014or his heart,\u201d Ben said, and they all pretended not to hear the trembling in his voice.\u00a0 Marcus Tucker had almost cost him two sons, but in the end, they were all here, together.<\/p>\n

Perhaps the strangest marvel was that with everything happening that night, it didn\u2019t appear that Joe had ever gone into a fugue.\u00a0 Ben Cartwright attributed it to divine protection, and Adam opined that since the fugues had always been random, it was just as likely that he wouldn\u2019t have one that particular night.\u00a0 But Anna had caught Hoss and Joe exchanging a look, and it was clear that there was something they weren\u2019t saying.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t mention it, though.\u00a0 After all, any good lawyer knows that there are times\u00a0not<\/em>\u00a0to ask questions.<\/p>\n

As they rounded the last curve and started down the hill toward the house, she reflected that there was a time when it would have upset her that Hoss didn\u2019t take her into his confidence about the conversations with Joe.\u00a0 It didn\u2019t bother her any more, though.\u00a0 There was a closeness between those two brothers that she\u2019d never seen anywhere else, but she understood now that it didn\u2019t take away at all from Hoss\u2019s love for her. \u00a0It wasn\u2019t a matter of his choosing Joe over her or vice versa.\u00a0 His heart was big enough for both of them.<\/p>\n

It seemed only moments later when they pulled into the yard.\u00a0 They could hear Hop Sing screeching about something or other, and Hoss\u2019 booming bass sounded so plaintive that they knew the groom had been caught dipping into the food.<\/p>\n

Joe reined in the team and turned to Anna.\u00a0 In a low voice, he said, \u201cPromise me something.\u201d\u00a0 At her nod, he said, \u201cYou promise you\u2019ll take good care of my brother, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded.\u00a0 \u201cI promise,\u201d she said.\u00a0 In a way, she felt as though she was taking a vow here, with Joe:\u00a0\u00a0I do solemnly swear that I will take the best, most tender, most loving care of my beloved, your brother, \u2019til death do us part.\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0Green eyes met blue, both glistening, and she knew he understood.<\/p>\n

Then, she tossed her head and laughed.\u00a0 \u201cCome on, Shortshanks!\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s get going.\u00a0 I\u2019m getting married!\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe laughed.\u00a0 \u201cI should\u2019ve known you\u2019d pick that up sooner or later!\u201d\u00a0 He jumped down as Ben came out of the house.\u00a0 \u201cHey, Pa, your daughter-in-law\u2019s here!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, go keep your brother in the kitchen so he doesn\u2019t see the bride before the wedding!\u201d\u00a0 Ben patted Anna\u2019s hand as Joe darted into the kitchen.\u00a0 A moment later, his good-natured shouts had joined the cacophony.<\/p>\n

Hoss\u2019s rich, beautiful voice rang forth from the kitchen.\u00a0 Joy bubbled up inside her, and she laughed.\u00a0\u00a0I love you,<\/em>\u00a0she called to him silently.\u00a0 She loved him, and he loved her.\u00a0 Such a breathtaking gift.\u00a0 A miracle.\u00a0 A sacred trust, awe-inspiring and humbling.<\/p>\n

\u201cWelcome to the family, my dear,\u201d Ben said.\u00a0 He reached up to help her from the buggy, and moments later, she stood on the soil of the Ponderosa.\u00a0 Her beloved\u2019s home, and now hers, forever and ever, as they built their life together.\u00a0 Blessing upon blessing, wholly undeserved and all the more magnificent because of it.\u00a0 She looked up at Hoss\u2019s father, and the glow in his eyes told her that he understood exactly how she felt.<\/p>\n

She was home.<\/p>\n

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

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

Author’s notes<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

First, please join me in extending a heartfelt\u00a0THANK YOU!<\/strong>\u00a0to\u00a0Harper<\/strong>. She has invested countless hours reading and commenting on the various versions of this story, and she’s spent many late nights discussing and dissecting various aspects of the myriad drafts she’s reviewed–not to mention the untold number of times she’s had to answer the question, “Does this work?” It is not hyperbole to say that without her, this story would never have been. Thank you, my friend. Thank you, thank you, thank you!<\/p>\n

Second, if you enjoyed this story and wish to leave a review, I’d love that, but I have a request:\u00a0please don’t give away any of the surprises, including Joe’s secret, Hoss and Anna’s reconciliation and marriage, Elias Tucker’s innocence, who really killed Eleanor Gunther, and Marcus Tucker’s final sacrifice.<\/strong>\u00a0Some readers read reviews before they read the story, and I know they’d join me in asking that you let them find out these things for themselves. Thank you.<\/p>\n

Third, I have taken liberties with certain purportedly factual aspects of this story, including, but not limited to, the practice of law by women in Nevada in the 1860s and certain medical practices and treatments. Dissociative disorders, including dissociative fugues and amnesia, are indeed real disorders; however, I have taken some liberties with the manner in which such disorders typically manifest themselves. To those readers who have willingly suspended their disbelief on such issues, I thank you for your indulgence.<\/p>\n

Finally, the quote that Marcus Tucker read the first time he was in Anna Simmons’ office is taken from State of Alabama v. State of Georgia, 65 U.S. 505, 512-13, 23 How. 505, 16 L.Ed. 556 (1859).<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Disclaimer:\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.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

<\/g><\/svg><\/i> \"Loading\"<\/p>\n

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

Summary:\u00a0\u00a0In the sequel to “The Lady Lawyer” and “Fugue,” beliefs unravel and the lines between guilt and innocence blur as one man’s efforts to protect his brother jeopardize the Cartwrights’ hope for healing and love–and survival. \u00a0<\/p>\n

Rated:\u00a0T \u00a0WC \u00a077,200<\/p>\n

The Lady Lawyer Series, links to all the stories within the series included.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":142,"featured_media":4810,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","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],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4778","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","wpcat-23-id"],"a3_pvc":{"activated":true,"total_views":2011,"today_views":0},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/VC-Courthouse.png?fit=680%2C512&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":4829,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=4829","url_meta":{"origin":4778,"position":0},"title":"The Lady Lawyer Series – #1 (by pjb)","author":"pjb","date":"April 29, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0The Cartwright brothers vie for the affections of a beautiful lawyer. Rated:\u00a0K+ \u00a028,300 The Lady Lawyer Series, links to all the stories within the series included.","rel":"","context":"In "Drama"","block_context":{"text":"Drama","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=23"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/VC-Courthouse.png?fit=680%2C512&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/VC-Courthouse.png?fit=680%2C512&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/VC-Courthouse.png?fit=680%2C512&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":4815,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=4815","url_meta":{"origin":4778,"position":1},"title":"The Lady Lawyer Series – #2 – Fugue (by pjb)","author":"pjb","date":"April 29, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0Tensions mount when Joe is charged with murdering a drifter, but he has no recollection of the incident\u2014and no explanation for why he came home covered in blood. This is a sequel to \u201cThe Lady Lawyer,\u201d and it refers to characters and events in that story. Rated:\u00a0T \u00a032,000 The Lady\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Drama"","block_context":{"text":"Drama","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=23"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/VC-Courthouse.png?fit=680%2C512&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/VC-Courthouse.png?fit=680%2C512&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/VC-Courthouse.png?fit=680%2C512&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":8772,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=8772","url_meta":{"origin":4778,"position":2},"title":"The Truth (by BluewindFarm)","author":"BluewindFarm","date":"July 6, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0 Missing scenes, The Trap.\u00a0 A man's belief that his wife is having an affair sets events into motion that ultimately drive Joe to challenge a lawman to a gunfight; the only way he can see to prove his innocence, of the affair and of two murders. Rating: \u00a0T \u00a0(1,440\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Chaps and Spurs"","block_context":{"text":"Chaps and Spurs","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=39"},"img":{"alt_text":"Capture by Heike","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/07\/The-Trap.jpg?fit=500%2C375&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":19775,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=19775","url_meta":{"origin":4778,"position":3},"title":"A Hot Day, a Cold Lake, and a Bare Brother (by DJK)","author":"DJK","date":"January 26, 2019","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: Little Joe recounts the tale of his encounter at the lake with a not so proper lady. Rating: Teen for adult insinuations Word count: 1598","rel":"","context":"In "Brothers"","block_context":{"text":"Brothers","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=1009"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/654766.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/654766.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/654766.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/654766.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/654766.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":61919,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=61919","url_meta":{"origin":4778,"position":4},"title":"A Wise Man Said (by JC)","author":"JC","date":"January 14, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: Insightful observations from the Journal of Hop Sing Rating: G\u00a0 \u00a0WC: 445 Venerable Hop Sing has been a mostly silent witness to pivotal Ponderosa events through the years, Cartwright triumphs, tragedies, and misadventures. But he has been taking notes. Here are a few excerpts from his journal, his observations\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Hop Sing"","block_context":{"text":"Hop Sing","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=1010"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/05\/vlcsnap-error737.png?fit=768%2C576&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/05\/vlcsnap-error737.png?fit=768%2C576&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/05\/vlcsnap-error737.png?fit=768%2C576&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/05\/vlcsnap-error737.png?fit=768%2C576&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":45503,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=45503","url_meta":{"origin":4778,"position":5},"title":"Settling Accounts (by BettyHT)","author":"BettyHT","date":"October 9, 2022","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: The family is surprised by the charges brought against Adam in Carson City.\u00a0 Ben assumes innocence is their best defense, but their foe has laid an elaborate but flawed trap.\u00a0\u00a0 Rating: PG\u00a0 Word count: 14,229","rel":"","context":"In "Alternate Universe"","block_context":{"text":"Alternate Universe","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=7"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/04\/The-Bride.jpg?fit=600%2C452&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/04\/The-Bride.jpg?fit=600%2C452&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/04\/The-Bride.jpg?fit=600%2C452&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4778","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\/142"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4778"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4778\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/4810"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4778"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4778"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4778"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}