{"id":6609,"date":"2010-05-04T14:47:43","date_gmt":"2010-05-04T18:47:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=6609"},"modified":"2025-02-27T12:23:51","modified_gmt":"2025-02-27T17:23:51","slug":"for-the-sake-of-a-son","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=6609","title":{"rendered":"For the Sake of a Son (by mamse5)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary:\u00a0<\/span>Ben and Joe each watch helplessly as the other is attacked and left for dead. Father and son spend what may be their last hours fighting not only their injuries, but self-imposed doses of regret and guilt.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rated:<\/span>\u00a0T \u00a0WC 17,000<\/span><\/p>\n

For the Sake of a Son<\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
\n

\u201cJoe! Joe . . .\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s call was faint, so parched was his throat. He\u2019d been hollering for his son off and on for hours, but the resulting silence remained the same. Ben Cartwright squirmed within his bonds, anger overriding his better judgment. Blood ran from his injured wrists, mingling with the puddle already drying on the floor, but he didn\u2019t feel any pain. There was no pain from his shoulder either, the bullet still imbedded deep inside his flesh. Ben didn\u2019t feel anything but the overwhelming need to see his youngest son again. Alive.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe! Please son . . please answer me.\u201d<\/p>\n

They didn\u2019t have to do it. They didn\u2019t have to take his son. He would\u2019ve given them the money anyway. His bluff hadn\u2019t paid off, but at the time Ben had felt the need to try. Particularly with the way Joe had been watching him. Maybe it was stupid pride, but a man had to defend what was his. That payroll was important to the welfare of the ranch, especially this year, with the winter losses and low market prices. But none of that compared to the welfare of his sons. Everyone who knew him knew that. It must\u2019ve been what the thieves banked on when they grabbed Joe and held a knife to his throat.<\/p>\n

Ben didn\u2019t know who they were, didn\u2019t recognize them under the large felt hats and thick bandanas they wore over their faces. But it didn\u2019t matter who they were. All that mattered is what they\u2019d done to his son. Joe was only sixteen, too young to be of any real threat to them. They didn\u2019t have to beat him. They didn\u2019t need to trace the knife\u2019s point across his skin. They didn\u2019t have to take Joe. Ben would\u2019ve paid anyway.<\/p>\n

He struggled again, but only succeeded in darkening the already reddened floor. In desperation, Ben ground his boot against the polished floorboards, his anger matching his frustration, overwhelmed by the desire to find his son.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe! Please . . Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Weak from lost blood and wasted energy, Ben slumped back against the wooden stairs, his head resting against the banister.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you, son?\u201d<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

The rope wound around his chest, the heavy loop tightening until even a shallow breath felt like hot knives slicing through him. Joe struggled against the hemp, fought for air, strained to lift his hands in an effort to free himself. There was no relief and he slumped back in despair. Somewhere behind him was the sound of men\u2019s voices, mumbling to each other just low enough that Joe couldn\u2019t make out their words. What were they waiting for?<\/p>\n

He\u2019d fought for hours, each attempt to break free only bringing more pain to his battered body. His cries for help had long ago faded into moans, some so pitiful that Joe felt compelled to rear up again, searching for the man in pain. It was too much to comprehend that the sounds were his.<\/p>\n

Once more Joe flexed his hands, struggling to reach up far enough to release his bonds. One hand was caught then pushed back against his side and held until another rope was snugged tight. A moan, a sob, and Joe twisted his head from side to side in desperation. His foot kicked out, meeting solidly with someone, and for a moment he reveled silently at the man\u2019s grunt of pain. The relief lasted only a moment before the rope was pulled even tighter.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy? Why are you doing this to me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe knew his voice was plaintive at best, a whimpering plea from a boy. Not a man like he wanted to be, but a boy. A boy who was trapped. Lost. Alone.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa..\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe ached for the sound of his father\u2019s voice, the feel of his hand. Instead, he heard only the deep muttering of the men around him, their voices louder but the words unclear. For the life of him, Joe couldn\u2019t understand why they\u2019d caught and held him. Sitting on the hard ground, back pushed tight against the corral post, he strained again to loosen the rope. His head hurt, the pain spiking as he struggled to remember, fought back the wave of nausea, the cloud of confusion. But he couldn\u2019t recall anything after coming down the stairs, arms full of saddlebags and bedrolls. They were going somewhere, he and Pa. Meeting someone.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me go. Please let me go.\u201d<\/p>\n

Twisting against the thick strands that wound around and held him to the post, Joe felt hot tears gather in the corner of his eyes. He couldn\u2019t stand the thought that these thugs would see him like this. As a boy and not a man. But he couldn\u2019t stop what nature had started, and the frustration only caused him to fight harder. What happened? Where was Pa?<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me go!\u201d<\/p>\n

He heard a sound behind him just before the toe of a boot caught him low in the side. Joe doubled over, struggling to keep his tenuous hold on consciousness. Someone grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back, but he couldn\u2019t make out his attacker. Didn\u2019t have time before a hand slapped his face, first one side then the other. Blood flowed from above his eye then his lip before the man stopped. Joe\u2019s eyes were closed but he couldn\u2019t shut out the sound of the evil laughter.<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty boy isn\u2019t so pretty anymore. Let\u2019s take him back to show his Pa one more time. Maybe that\u2019ll change his mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNah, too much work,\u201d a voice answered. \u201cMake him scream instead. That\u2019ll make the old man squirm.\u201d<\/p>\n

Panting for breath, Joe strained against his bonds only to have his head yanked back again. This time there was the feel of raw hemp, its course bond draped around his neck then pulled taut. Flashes of light exploded in front of his eyes then everything went black.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got it boys. Let\u2019s get out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMoney in there?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhooeeee, let me take a look at that, will ya?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHere. Gonna make a nice split, boys. Keep us in the chips for awhile.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019d you make Cartwright give it up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cConvinced him we\u2019d make a trade.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor the sake of a son, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStupid old man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, what about the kid?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLeave him.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut they\u2019ll find him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t matter, he ain\u2019t gonna last much longer anyway, not trussed up out here in the dark. Nobody around and his pa won\u2019t be getting loose anytime soon. By the time someone does find him, we\u2019ll be up in the high country headed for Mexico.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t seem right to leave him here alive. He could talk.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing he can tell, if he remembers anything. It\u2019s why I told you to keep covered. Four men with bandanas over their faces isn\u2019t much to go on. \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStill feel better if there was no one left to talk at all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou kill him outright then the law will be after us.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLaw will be after us anyway. Hell, you shot the old man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly \u2018cause I had to. Now listen here, you trusted me this far, so listen to me now. Leave the kid where he\u2019s at and let\u2019s get out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, you\u2019re right, we\u2019re with you. Long as you don\u2019t mind if I leave a few more bruises on him before we go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust hurry up. Storm\u2019s comin\u2019 in and we\u2019d do well to get on the trail and hope there\u2019s some rain to hide our tracks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure thing boss. Anyway, that should do him. If he ever does get out of those ropes, he won\u2019t be talkin\u2019 anytime soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood. Now let\u2019s ride.\u201d<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

Squirming slightly, Joe opened his eyes to darkness. Everything hurt. Head, arms, neck, eye. The list ran through his brain like water. Pain flowed over and through him, taking his breath away.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh God . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Head down, Joe struggled against the ropes that bound him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the hell . .\u201d<\/p>\n

When the first brief moments of consciousness and pain subsided, Joe tried to focus on remembering where he was and what happened. Quiet and dark, it was difficult to see anything that would identify his surroundings. And why was he tied up?<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

A rustling to his right was the only answer to his plea. It was the first clue that really pierced through the confusion. He was outside. Tied to a post. It was thick and sturdy, probably one of the large corrals near the barn, but he couldn\u2019t identify exactly where.<\/p>\n

The one thing Joe knew for certain, he was alone. It took a few more minutes before memories began to filter in. There had been men holding him. Beating him. They\u2019d dragged him from the house, leaving his pa bleeding on the floor by the stairs. Joe knew he\u2019d blacked out at some point, waking to find himself tied to a post. More beating . . ropes pulled tight . . a man\u2019s laugh. Later, there had been voices above and around him, something about money. The payroll . .<\/p>\n

That\u2019s it! They\u2019d been looking for the payroll. Pa had refused to give them the money, especially after Joe had stared hard at him from where the big man had knocked him to the floor. It was probably the same man that shot his pa. That\u2019s why Pa was bleeding . . that\u2019s why they had dragged him out the door away from his pa.<\/p>\n

But that had been hours ago. If they left, then they must have the money now, and that meant Pa must have given in, or given up. Or worse . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cPa. Oh God! Please . . please. Pa!\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe knew his voice couldn\u2019t be carrying far, but he couldn\u2019t stop himself from crying out. The rope cut into his neck as he strained to call for his father again.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa!\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t know how long he repeated the cry. Pain radiated through Joe\u2019s body, and still he called. Couldn\u2019t stop until his tongue was swollen in his mouth, head pounding, blood making his hands slippery from where he pulled against his bonds. The first drops of rain were pooling around him when Joe finally slumped against the ropes, his ragged breath echoing in the empty space around him. Defeated in a place much worse than anything physical, Joe didn\u2019t try to stop the tears. He was beaten. Alone. But worse, he felt that he\u2019d lost his pa forever.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh Pa . . what . . what have I done?\u201d<\/p>\n

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but Joe didn\u2019t move. His ragged breaths slowed as he lost consciousness.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

Ben opened his eyes, slowly surveying his home, time suspended as he waited for someone to come. He\u2019d hollered, pounded, pulled, strained, even cried. There was nothing he could do, nothing he hadn\u2019t tried to get free. And the emotions that continued to wash over him, from frustration to anger, fear to despair were wearing him down. His son was out there somewhere. Hurt. Alone. Joe needed him, and here he was trussed up against the banister like an errant dog.<\/p>\n

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

If only Adam or Hoss would ride in. But they wouldn\u2019t. Ben knew that it would be at least tomorrow morning before anyone would really worry about their absence. And with most of his neighbors working together, there was little hope that someone would drop by.<\/p>\n

Arching his back with the sudden burning pain from his shoulder, Ben tried to breathe through the worst of it. His fever was building, infection setting in. It didn\u2019t worry him, at least not for himself. But what if he was in bad shape by the time help arrived? How would he be able to tell them what happened, or how long Joe had been missing? And in the next moment Ben scoffed at himself. What difference would that make? There wasn\u2019t much for him to tell. He didn\u2019t know where Joe was, where those men had taken him or even if his son was still alive. All he knew was that this whole thing was his fault. If only he could go back, do things differently . .<\/p>\n

The clock chimed next to the door pulling Ben from his thoughts. It was dark now, too dark to see the clock. No lamps lit the room, no fire burned cheerily in the large fireplace. There was nothing here to make the place feel like home. But it was home, and Ben prayed that Joe would make it back.<\/p>\n

He counted: One . . Two . . Three.<\/p>\n

Three o\u2019clock. Too many hours since he walked out of the kitchen and into hell.<\/p>\n

Arms laden with bedrolls and saddlebags, Joe had been coming down the stairs when Ben stepped around the corner. Everything happened so fast it was hard to remember what went first. Two men burst in the front door, one came up behind him from the kitchen, and another from the side door. Before Joe could drop his burdens, the big man was there, hitting the boy twice then shoving him against the fireplace. Joe was out the minute his head hit the rock wall, and Ben raced across the room to catch his son. The bark of a gun sounded out of place in the middle of his home, but Ben didn\u2019t feel the pain of the bullet until later. The smoke from the gun settled as he kept moving, ignoring the calls of the men until one of them grabbed hold of his vest and yanked him back.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n

The man in charge stepped over Joe to stand in front of Ben.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour payroll. Hand it over.\u201d<\/p>\n

And that was when Ben made his mistake. Why hadn\u2019t he just handed it over?
\nWhat could that money have possibly meant when compared to the safety of his son? Instead he stalled, bluffed, tried to convince the men that he didn\u2019t have the cash at the house, worried that if he handed over the money, they\u2019d be shot down anyway. But it didn\u2019t help to hold out. He kept the men talking too long, until Joe was awake and watching him, urging him on with those expressive looks of his. But Joe was young, hot-headed and foolish.<\/p>\n

And Ben was old and stupid.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t I just give them the money?\u201d<\/p>\n

He would\u2019ve held his head in his hands had he been able to move them. Instead, Ben pitched forward in his grief as he relived the rest of the scene.<\/p>\n

Joe being pulled up by the big man; large hands wrapped around his son\u2019s neck as the behemoth lifted him off his feet only to throw him down to the floor. Then he was pulled up again, the big man holding Joe easily with one arm. Ben had watched in horror as the man held a knife in the other hand, bringing the point to Joe\u2019s neck where the blade was drawn lightly downward, drawing a bright line of blood. Ben\u2019s \u201cno!\u201d was lost in the deep throated laugh of the large man as he dropped the knife, only to release the boy, then pull him back up again. Joe was like a mouse in the hands of a large cat as he was pummeled and kicked repeatedly. And the whole time, two other men held Ben\u2019s arms as he fought, then cried out for mercy. There was none. Only more of the sadistic abuse until Joe was bloody and unconscious, and the devils cruelly dragged his boy through the front door and out of Ben\u2019s sight.<\/p>\n

It was later, after Joe had been outside, after Ben could hear his son calling for him, that the big man finally came back and gave him a second chance. By that time Ben was trussed up against the banister, his shoulder throbbing in pain, his heart breaking over the hand fate had dealt. It didn\u2019t take any convincing; Ben was waiting to hand over the money. But the big man seemed to revel in the torture \u2013 drawing out the offer, making the trade, even pretending to have to look for the satchel after Ben gave him instructions on where to find the payroll. It was all part of a game the big man seemed to be playing, a game of making Ben suffer while listening to his son suffer. It was a game Ben had every intention of playing again, only this time, there would be a different cast, and he wouldn\u2019t be the pawn.<\/p>\n

When the man finally collected his loot and walked slowly to the door, he turned one last time to stare at Ben. There was no way of knowing, behind the mask, but Ben felt sure the man was silently laughing at him. And then the door was shut, and he was left to wait for Joe\u2019s return.<\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t come.<\/p>\n

Joe didn\u2019t come.<\/p>\n

Ben groaned as the clock struck Four.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t I give them the money?\u201d<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

Hoss walked through camp, his head turning from side to side as he searched for his brother. They had been riding together most of the morning, but Adam had left him about an hour earlier, intent on checking in with one of the other foremen. It was roundup time, and most of the ranches were well represented this year, even though the pickings looked lean. Winter had been tough along the eastern Sierras, the snow deep, the cold hanging on late into the spring. Hoss knew his father was worried. They all were. It looked like this could be a rough year for all of them.<\/p>\n

Right now, Hoss was worried about something more personal. They\u2019d been expecting his father and younger brother last night, along with pay for the hands. It wasn\u2019t like the men would have any place to spend their earnings out here on the range, but the Cartwrights were known for their honesty and fairness. If they promised to pay their men on a certain day, then that\u2019s when those men would be paid. It was the kind of business practice that kept good hands on the payroll, men who were loyal and hardworking. It was a practice that Ben Cartwright had no intention of changing. Which made today all the more difficult to accept.<\/p>\n

Hoss knew that his pa had planned to be back the previous evening. In fact, he\u2019d made it clear that he and Little Joe would be expecting something decent for supper when they returned, leaving HopSing with strict instructions to save them a generous helping of whatever he concocted. But the dishes had been washed and stacked long after sunset, with no sign of the oldest and youngest Cartwright. Hoss wanted to ride out then and there, but Adam had insisted that they\u2019d probably just been delayed in town, either at the bank or the general store. He\u2019d continued to insist even after breakfast, and well into the morning, right up to the time that he\u2019d ridden off in search of their neighbor, Sam Cates. But Hoss knew his brother wasn\u2019t any more convinced than he was.<\/p>\n

Rounding the edge of the chuck wagon, Hoss finally caught sight of Adam. His older brother was busy unsaddling the cow pony he\u2019d been riding all morning, transferring the gear to his regular mount. Hoss stepped past him, pausing only a moment before leading his own horse over and checking the cinch on Chubb\u2019s saddle.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d Adam questioned testily.<\/p>\n

Hoss wasn\u2019t fazed by the tone of his brother\u2019s voice. He knew that Adam was worried about their missing family.<\/p>\n

\u201cSame place you are, Adam. To find Pa and Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about the roundup?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t that why you was talkn\u2019 to Cates?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s quick nod was answer enough. Hoss adjusted the saddle then gathered up the reins. There was no further conversation as the brothers mounted up and rode out of camp toward home.<\/p>\n

The ride was quiet, hours passed with neither brother willing to put words to his concern. Yet they were anything but complacent. By tacit consent, Hoss watched for signs on the ground while Adam kept his focus on the skyline. What they saw was normal scenery. Nothing unusual. Nothing out of the ordinary.<\/p>\n

Mile after mile, the brothers made their way back to the ranch, mentally cataloging possible reasons for Ben and Joe\u2019s delay, each hoping there was a simple explanation but imagining the worse.<\/p>\n

When they finally reached the main road, each urged his mount to greater speed and both were at a full gallop by the time the ranch house came into view. They didn\u2019t slow, however, until they rounded the corner of the barn. Hoss figured that Ben would have their hide if he saw them ride up at Joe\u2019s normal pace. Adam didn\u2019t give the matter a second thought. For all the silence during their ride, the two were a mass of nervous energy when they pulled up in front of
\nthe house.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa!\u201d
\n\u201cPa!\u201d<\/p>\n

Their voices united in both tenor and strength, the two brothers dismounting and hurrying toward the front door. The quiet was overwhelming, but the sight of Ben\u2019s horse in the front corral was enough to confirm their fears. Pa was still here and something was wrong.<\/p>\n

Adam pushed through first, his deep-throated \u201cPa\u201d dying on his lips as he stopped in his tracks. Hoss almost fell, catching himself only as Adam lurched forward.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa. .\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss stumbled in his haste; pushing against the round table at the same instant he recognized the disarray of the room. Adam knelt down, his hands trembling as he laid a hand on Ben\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s alive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLooks like he\u2019s been shot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Can you get these ropes off?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam jumped up and ran to the buffet. Grabbing a bottle and several towels, he raced back as Hoss pulled out his knife and cut through the rope that twined around their father. Halfway there, Adam stopped as if an invisible hand reached out to snag him.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe? Little Joe, where are you? Joe!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss glanced up.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam crossed the last few feet, and as his eyes scoured the area for any sign of his youngest brother, slid to the floor just in time to catch Ben as he slumped forward. The ropes released, there was nothing to hold him upright, nothing but the strong arms of his oldest son.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss picked up his knife again, carefully slicing Ben\u2019s vest and shirt, pulling both back to reveal the wound. It only took a moment to determine that the bullet was still there, and it didn\u2019t look good.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe need the doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe need to find Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGotta get Pa upstairs.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd make sure there\u2019s no one else still around.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe. Joe comes first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYep.\u201d<\/p>\n

Their thoughts jumbled but on the same course, the brothers worked smoothly together, instinctively prioritizing their next moves. Hoss worked on getting the ropes off Ben\u2019s hands while Adam tried to rouse their father. When that didn\u2019t work, he folded a cloth and pressed it to Ben\u2019s shoulder, protecting the wound as best he could until they could do more.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s running a fever.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Color don\u2019t look too good either.\u201d<\/p>\n

Working swiftly, Hoss pulled the final rope away, its ends spattered with blood. They both stopped to stare at damaged wrists and forearms as Hoss pulled Ben\u2019s arms gently from the post, heads shaking at the overwhelming sight.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy God,\u201d whispered Adam.<\/p>\n

Without warning, Hoss leaned down and gathered Ben into his arms as if he were Little Joe. Staggering only slightly under the weight, he stood and headed up the stairs.<\/p>\n

\u201cFind Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam didn\u2019t need to be told twice. He was already moving about the room, looking for clues, searching for their brother.<\/p>\n

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

Into the spare room, the kitchen, back out the front door, Adam searched. Heart racing, he called over and over, but there was no answer. Back in the house, he could hear Hoss moving around upstairs.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnything?\u201d He shouted.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll check the barn.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam ran, startling the horses with his mad dash across the yard. In and out of the stalls he searched and hollered. The loft, the tack room, every corner was checked but there was no sign of his brother.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy God, Joe, where are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Standing at the door, Adam scrubbed the back of his neck, looking for sign of a struggle, footprints, anything that would give him a clue. There was nothing. The rain had washed away anything that might\u2019ve helped find his brother. There were so many more places to search. The back corrals, near pasture, the tree line. But there was Pa, desperately needing a doctor. And there were only two of them.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn. Should\u2019ve brought some hands back with us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam bowed his head for a moment then headed back to the house, this time making a slightly slower trek across the yard. He continued to look around, calling out several times before pulling the door closed behind him. Grabbing the bottle still waiting on the round table, Adam tipped the bottle up until the whiskey burnt a hot trail down his throat. It was when he brought the bottle away from his lips that he caught sight of the floorboards near the stairs. Grooves, resembling the heel of a boot, were ground into the floor near the stairway. Put there by his father\u2019s boots. Adam swore. Then, bottle in hand, he took the stairs two at a time. Hoss was waiting for him.<\/p>\n

\u201cFind Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened here, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPayroll\u2019s gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou mean they got the payroll, and took Joe too?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLooks that way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHostage I guess.\u201d Adam frowned. \u201cI hope.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam was eyeing his father, grateful that Hoss had already cleaned the wound and settled Ben in his bed. He looked a bit cleaner, but no more responsive. Stepping closer, Adam laid a hand gently on his pa\u2019s forehead and was quietly contemplating the situation when Hoss spoke.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going for the doctor. I\u2019ll stop for the Sheriff before I head back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHurry, Hoss. We need to look for Joe! But he could be miles from here by now, and with Pa . . we\u2019ll have to wait until you get back. Just hurry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn my way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss glanced back before hurrying through the door. Adam could hear his boots clomping down the stairs followed by the thud of the front door. Moments later, Chubb was racing out of the yard while Adam prayed that they\u2019d both have a safe but fast ride.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

Bleary eyes opened, leisurely examining the landscape. Sun was up. The day was probably half gone from the looks of it. Grass was drying, and the sunlight was bright, not the faint pink glow of sunrise, but the brilliant light of mid-day. Squinting with his one good eye against the glare, he could make out a stand of ponderosa pines across the small meadow. Overhead, a hawk cried, a distinct contrast to the gentle sound of the wind in the pines. But there was nothing else. No familiar sounds of daily ranch routines. No laughing voices. No pounding hooves or hint of rescue. No father\u2019s calls. There was nothing.<\/p>\n

\u2018Pa . .\u2019<\/p>\n

No sound escaped, his voice grown faint from shouting. His tongue slid slowly along parched lips, bringing little relief. Joe\u2019s neck burned from the rough rope, arms still bound tightly around the post behind him, his hands numb after hours in that position. Skin chafed from clothes still wet from the night before. His ribs hurt making it hard to breathe, and occasional flashes of white-hot pain raced through his shoulders, causing his vision to blur and sweat to break out on his brow.<\/p>\n

Frustration and anger had long ago burnt out, leaving Joe in despair. Never before had he been so helpless. His pa was gone, Joe was sure of it. The bullet had found its mark, dark red blood already pooling below his father\u2019s body when they dragged Joe through the door and into the yard. Too many hours had passed by now. There was no hope. How could they go on without Pa?<\/p>\n

Licking his lips, Joe slumped forward. There was no use trying to focus on the landscape, it only blurred and faded as his eyes filled. Pa. They killed his. . He\u2019d get them. This wasn\u2019t over, not by a long shot. Joe didn\u2019t know how but he was going to get out of this, and then he\u2019d find them. Every last one of them. Bandanas or not, he\u2019d find them. And kill them.<\/p>\n

Birds continued to chirp while a hawk dipped and swooped lazily overhead. Somewhere in the distance a horse neighed. Joe didn\u2019t respond, focusing instead on his own breathing. Slow, deep breaths, in and out. Calm. He had to stay calm and hang on until Adam and Hoss found him. He knew they would, eventually, and damned if he wouldn\u2019t be hanging on when they arrived. He had a job to do. For Pa.<\/p>\n

No measure of time, not even the movement of the sun helped Joe judge the passing minutes. His left eye was swollen almost shut, and he was so thirsty it was hard to concentrate on anything else. And so he drifted, his body shutting down, his mind escaping into a quiet place of dreams and memories. At once he was sitting near a stream, relaxing in the warm sun as his line drifted in the current. Hoss hollered for him, but Joe refused to open his eyes. Then he was in the barn, slowly brushing Cochise until the black and white coat gleamed with the effort. From the house he could hear Adam calling him, demanding to be heard, but Joe refused to break the rhythm. He was brushing his horse while waiting for Pa to come home; Adam would have to wait.<\/p>\n

The sun slipped past its zenith while Joe sat against the post, his mind wandering between truth and reality. As time passed, Pa was his only clear focus. He had to wait for Pa. He had a job to do. And he wanted, no needed . . Pa.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

Adam busied himself in Ben\u2019s room for the first half hour then spent the next half hour between there and the kitchen. By the end of that time, he\u2019d cleaned all the blood from Ben\u2019s shoulder and arm, gathered everything he could think the doctor might want, started a fire in Ben\u2019s room and made soup for the time his father would be awake and hungry. And in all that time, Ben hadn\u2019t stirred.<\/p>\n

Every noise caused Adam to stop, peering around corners in the hope that Little Joe would be there. Each time he felt the frustration rise when he found nothing but empty space.<\/p>\n

\u2018Joe, where are you?\u2019<\/p>\n

Adam sat down beside the bed and slowly picked up his father\u2019s hand. Gently spreading salve over the torn skin around the wrist, he carefully wrapped it with a bandage then reached for the other hand. It was hard to look at, especially considering what his father must have been thinking while trying to escape. Or so Adam assumed. There was no real evidence to suggest what had happened, other than a house that had been ransacked, a missing brother and a severely injured father. It just stood to reason that Ben had been trying to get loose to either help or find Joe. Staring his pa\u2019s bandaged wrists, Adam wished fervently that he could do the same.<\/p>\n

As the hours passed, Adam spent most his time perched on a chair by the window, dividing his focus between watching his father and looking for his brothers. He knew it was too early for Hoss to be back, but there was always the chance that Joe would wander into the yard. It was a slim chance, but Adam prayed that it would happen.<\/p>\n

The fire popped and Adam startled at the sound. No movement from the bed, nothing in the yard. Adam clenched his fist, fighting the urge to run downstairs and out of the house. He needed to find Joe. He wished for Hop Sing\u2019s presence, or one of the ranch hands. Even a neighbor stopping by would be a godsend. But there was no one. Nothing. Just the empty silence of a large ranch removed from the bustle of folks living nearby. Struggling to control his emotions, Adam got up to wander about the room again, checking the fire, rearranging bandages, putting another cool cloth on his father\u2019s brow, anything to fill the time. Standing over his father, Adam finally crossed his arms then lifted one hand to rub his eyes. He attempted to ease the tension from his forehead, wipe this horrible day from his mind.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam?\u201d<\/p>\n

The voice was soft, barely audible, but Adam knew the deep timbre of his father\u2019s tone.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere . . where is he?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam knew immediately who the \u2018he\u2019 was, knew before he spoke that Pa already knew the answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t know. Couldn\u2019t find any sign of him. What happened, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMen . . surprised us . . wanted the . . payroll. I . . didn\u2019t . . I didn\u2019t . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben started to thrash about, pulling blankets off and moving around until Adam spotted blood on the bandages.<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy, Pa, easy. We can talk about this later.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam reached for the glass of water waiting on a small table. Carefully slipping an arm behind his father, he tipped the glass up so that Ben could take a few sips. Resting back against his pillows, Ben looked around anxiously.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe. Where\u2019s Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam frowned; worry mounting at his father\u2019s loss of context.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe couldn\u2019t find him, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey . . took him. Dragged him . . . took him away . . from me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben looked around the room, eyes straining to see past Adam.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s Joe? Is Joe . . back?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam leaned over his father, gently straightening the blankets and resting one hand on Ben\u2019s good shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay, Pa. Just rest. Hoss will be here soon. Joe will be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s eyes slid closed, as if soothed by the words from his oldest, not questioning their validity. Within minutes, his breathing had deepened. Adam watched until he was certain that his pa was not unconscious, but merely asleep. Sinking into the bedside chair, Adam cradled his head in hands still shaking.<\/p>\n

\u2018Hurry, Hoss.\u2019<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

Shadows lengthened by the time Hoss rode into the yard, the blue grey cast of light filtering through rain-laden clouds. Another storm was moving in.<\/p>\n

It had been a fast trip, but any ride from the Ponderosa to Virginia City and back took considerable time. Wasn\u2019t an easy pill to swallow, when you had someone depending on you for help, but that was the price you paid for living out here; there wasn\u2019t a neighbor on every corner, quick to lend a hand when help was needed.<\/p>\n

Quick out of the saddle, Hoss flipped Chubb\u2019s reins around the hitching post and reached for the doctor\u2019s horse. Paul Martin was already out of the saddle and untying his bag, fingers fumbling with the leather knots. Normally one to use his buggy, Hoss was grateful the doctor had been willing to ride this time.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoc?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be right behind you, Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wasting no time, Hoss lunged ahead, hitting the door at a run. He took the stairs two at a time, his heavy boots beating a steady rhythm on the wooden steps. There was no need to holler ahead, Adam was waiting in the hallway.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s still with us. Where\u2019s the doctor?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight here, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doc Martin pushed past the two, already taking in the position and appearance of his patient.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cNo sign of him, Hoss. I\u2019ve made a couple quick trips to the barn, but-\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMove that light closer, Hoss. Adam, lay my instruments out on that table.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doc Martin was busy checking Ben\u2019s pulse, carefully pulling back bandages to examine each wound.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going to have to get this bullet out, but I\u2019d like to get some fluid in him first. See how his skin looks, here. He\u2019s been without water for too long.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about his fever, Doc?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Adam, that\u2019s a concern. Thankfully it isn\u2019t as high as it could be. Has he been awake at all?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam moved closer, one hand dropping gently to rest on his father\u2019s leg.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor a couple minutes. He managed a few sips of water, but that\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid he say anything about Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss looked almost excited until Adam shook his head slightly.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, let\u2019s see if we can get him awake.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoc? Do you need us?\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul was fully aware of the situation, Hoss having made a quick report as they stopped by Sheriff Coffee\u2019s office. Looking over his shoulder to study them for a moment, it was clear that he was as worried for their brother as for their father.<\/p>\n

\u201cGo. Find the boy, and get him back here. If I know Ben Cartwright, I know that Joe\u2019s presence will be the best cure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about gettin\u2019 that bullet out, Doc? Won\u2019t you need some help holdin\u2019 him?\u201d Hoss worried.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but not yet. I\u2019ll get some water in him. You go find your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

Needing no further encouragement, Hoss turned, following Adam down the stairs. They were gathering reins and climbing into saddles before Hoss spoke up.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich way, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou go north, I\u2019ll head south. We\u2019ll meet back here in an hour. By then we\u2019ll be needing lanterns, but maybe the sheriff will be here to help.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf we haven\u2019t found him. . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam couldn\u2019t work an answer past the lump in his throat. Instead, he turned Sport south and urged his mount into a trot.<\/p>\n

Around corrals, through trees, past haystacks and outbuildings, Adam threaded his way through the area for the next hour, eyes strained from peering through shadows at everything that moved; voice hoarse from calling Joe\u2019s name. Time was almost up, and he\u2019d covered every place he could think of. His last stop was the wild horse pen at the edge of the meadow behind the barn. After that, it would be a matter of broadening their search, but it was almost dark, and Joe could be anywhere by now.<\/p>\n

Pulling up for a minute, Adam turned in his saddle, looking behind and to each side, making certain he hadn\u2019t overlooked something. He couldn\u2019t bear the thought that he might miss a sign, tracks, anything that would lead them to Joe. But there was nothing. Just open space and sounds of the day coming to a close. The last bird call, a rabbit moving through the grass, wind whistling in the trees. And then, the first fat raindrops as the dark clouds settled down around him.<\/p>\n

Heading out to the last pen, Adam moved slow, grateful when the storm seemed to hold off and the rain didn\u2019t get any worse. Clenching the reins, it was all he could do not to holler in frustration. Working hard to keep his emotions in check, Adam pulled up next to the large corral and dismounted, walking slowly around the enclosure in the twilight. Adam was halfway around the circle he tripped, barely catching himself before hitting the ground. In that awkward moment of being half up and half down, Adam realized with searing clarity that he was staring at a pair of familiar boots.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe. Oh my God . . Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

The words were mere breaths of sound against the empty space. Dropping to his knees, hands grabbing for his brother, praying to find some sign of life. This time his voice was full.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe. Come on kid, don\u2019t do this to me. Joe!\u201d<\/p>\n

Nothing. No sound, no movement. Ripping off his hat, Adam dropped his head to Joe\u2019s chest, holding his own breath while he waited. There. Faint. One beat, and then another.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank God.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eyes accustomed to the twilight, Adam could make out the rope wound around his brother\u2019s body. Joe\u2019s arms were held tight to his sides, hands pulled together behind his back, neck strapped firmly to the post behind him. Adam cursed, low and long. Knife in hand, he sawed at the damp rope, making little headway with his hands shaking the way they were. Cursing again, at the situation, the thugs that had done this, at the weather itself, Adam finally sat back on his heels and pulled out his revolver. Praying that Sport wouldn\u2019t bolt, he raised the gun over his head and squeezed the trigger three times.<\/p>\n

Slipping the revolver back into its holster, Adam scooted around to Joe\u2019s side, holding his brother\u2019s head with one hand while he worked on the rope with the other. Long minutes passed, no way to measure the time, but Adam knew it was taking too long. Then Hoss hollered from a distance and Adam paused to fire off another shot. Suddenly his larger than life brother was there beside him, their curses blending together as they fought the rope, both keenly aware that the boy between them hadn\u2019t moved.<\/p>\n

With a soft snap, the rope around Joe\u2019s neck dropped away, his head sagging forward. In the same instant, Adam straddled Joe\u2019s legs, supporting his brother\u2019s upper body as Hoss worked on the other ropes.<\/p>\n

\u201cDadburn it, Adam. They tied his hands before they put him up to this post. I\u2019m gonna cut the long ropes, but I\u2019m scared to cut so close to his wrists with these ropes this wet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo what you have to. Just get him off this post!\u201d<\/p>\n

When Hoss finally sawed through the last strand, Joe\u2019s limp body slumped forward into Adam\u2019s waiting arms. There was a \u2018woof\u2019 as if Joe let out a breath, a low groan then silence. The world stood still as Adam held his brother close, counting the beats of Joe\u2019s heart against his own chest. Hoss laid a large hand on Joe\u2019s back, as if he too needed reassurance that their little brother was still with them. The three huddled there on the ground as minutes slipped away.<\/p>\n

A sudden flash of light reminded them that there was work left to do.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow are we going to get him home?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam tilted his head back, startled at the storm now upon them. Looking from Joe to Hoss and back, he quickly ran through every option before settling on a plan.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet him on my horse, and I\u2019ll ride behind him. It won\u2019t be easy, but we need to get him home. We\u2019ll deal with the rest of these ropes when we have some light to work with.\u201d<\/p>\n

As if Hoss read his mind, Sport was immediately pulled into position where strong arms could boost an unconscious Joe into the saddle. Then Adam climbed up to once again wrap his arms around his brother, this time from behind. He was already riding toward the house when Hoss came up beside him. Side by side, they slowly made their way home.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

As if he\u2019d been waiting, Paul Martin rushed out the front door to meet the brothers. The rain had started in earnest making Adam especially grateful to the good doctor.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s alive. But we need to get him warm.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul hurried back into the house as Hoss reached up for Joe, taking the kid into his arms as if he were a child. Adam slipped out of the saddle, running ahead to shove the table away from the fireplace and move the settee into its place. Grabbing the poker, he pushed the logs around then placed more wood on the growing fire. Hoss had Joe in the middle of the settee, supporting him with one arm and trying to work the ropes loose from the kid\u2019s bloody wrists. It only took a moment for Adam to slide into place, gathering Joe to him giving Hoss use of both hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cHold him still, Adam. I\u2019ve gotta cut \u2018em and I sure don\u2019t want to hurt Joe-\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201canymore than he already is.\u201d Adam finished for him.<\/p>\n

It took only a moment with the sharp knife, now that Hoss could clearly see where to cut. Arms finally released, Joe moaned, the pain tangible. Adam and Hoss didn\u2019t pause, working together quickly to peel wet, bloody, torn clothing from their younger brother. With his clothes in a heap on the floor, they quickly wrapped Joe in the blankets that Paul had set out and laid him down on the settee. Other than the low moan, Joe remained quiet, though his eyes moved slowly under closed lids.<\/p>\n

It was in that moment, when Adam really looked at Joe that he noticed the line of blood tracking down his brother\u2019s throat. Time stood still as Adam fought to overcome the sudden flash of white hot anger. Kicking the low table as he moved past, he swore under his breath as he furiously wrung the thick white towel between his hands. It was all he could do not to hit something.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me check him over.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam was grateful for Paul\u2019s steady voice, and used the interruption to get control of himself. Squatting near Joe\u2019s head, he gently laid a hand on the familiar curls.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cHis color is looking better, but one of you should go sit with him in case he comes to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam knew that Hoss was looking at him, but couldn\u2019t return his brother\u2019s gaze. Instead, he focused on toweling Joe\u2019s hair dry, then wetting another towel to gently wipe the boy\u2019s swollen face. Hoss stood there a moment before going quietly up the stairs to their pa.<\/p>\n

Paul and Adam worked together, until both were satisfied that there were no broken bones, than Paul stitched the worst of the cuts. Finally finished with the painstaking job, Paul wiped his hands while studying his patient closely.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe has three or four broken ribs, and I\u2019m not happy with his breathing. I\u2019m worried about this bump on his head, but most important is the exposure. He\u2019s been out there quite awhile.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably since yesterday.\u201d Adam murmured. \u201cWhat about his eye?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFrom what I can tell, it\u2019s the tissue around the eye that\u2019s damaged. But we\u2019ll have to wait until he\u2019s awake to know for sure. Only Joe will be able to tell us if he has trouble seeing.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam rubbed his temple, working hard to keep his temper in check.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat else can we do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve done all I can for him right now. I expect he\u2019ll come around before long. Keep him warm. Get him to drink water, some soup if he\u2019s up to it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about moving him up to his bed?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d like to keep him as still as possible until he\u2019s been warm for a while. When Hoss comes back down, you two could probably take him upstairs and get him settled in bed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going after the bullet now, with Hoss\u2019s help.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCall if you need me.\u201d<\/p>\n

With a nod and a sigh, Paul headed up the stairs.<\/p>\n

The fire crackled and the room quieted as Adam turned back to watch Joe sleep. The kid\u2019s curly brown hair was a stark contrast to the white pillowcase, and the red welts and purple bruises covered a too-pale face. His eyes flicked past and then back to the cut on Joe\u2019s throat, the ugly wound a vicious example of what his brother had been subjected to.<\/p>\n

Slowly tucking in edges of the comforter, Adam found himself clenching hands that didn\u2019t know what to do with themselves. Instinct pushed anger to the forefront. Anger at the men who would do this to a young man teetering on the edge of adulthood. Anger at a world that allowed men of evil to wander around free. Didn\u2019t they know their own strength? Had they no compassion or kindness in their dark souls?<\/p>\n

A growl of frustration burst from him, the sound of it startling even to Adam\u2019s ears. But it was the moan from beneath his hands that brought the older brother back into the moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe? Little Joe. Can you hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa? Where are . . Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

In a voice so faint that Adam had to lean closer to hear, Joe called for his father. Hands reached up to be clasped and held by other hands, the two joined but not truly aware.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa. I need . . where are you . . . Pa . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s here, Joe. Right upstairs. Let\u2019s get you something to drink now, and you can see Pa later.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa . . I . . Pa . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Even as Adam gently squeezed Joe\u2019s hands within his own, he could feel them go limp as Joe slipped away. It took too many seconds for Adam to be sure that the kid was unconscious and not . . it was too much to contemplate and Adam steered his thoughts away from the notion as he gently laid Joe\u2019s hands back on the blankets. Checking the bandages around his brother\u2019s wrists, Adam was startled to see a streak of red marring the white cloth.<\/p>\n

Taking his time to clean and rebandage the rope burns, Adam was struck by the quiet that had descended over the ranch. His focus was split between watching over Joe and staring up the stairs, concerned for his pa and what he was enduring. Yet the ticking of the clock and the occasional crackle of the fire gave a familiar feel to the room. It was a severe contrast to the thoughts that plagued him.<\/p>\n

Unaware that his brow furrowed in anger, eyes darkening as he stared at the fire, hands clasped, Adam hunched forward in the straight back chair he\u2019d positioned next to his brother. Waiting. Waiting for the doctor, for the sheriff, for his brother to wake up, for the opportunity to mount his horse and follow his instinct. But he couldn\u2019t leave, not yet. So while Adam waited, he spent his time planning. Just exactly what he would do when they finally tracked down the evil bastards who dared to hurt his family.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

Hoss walked slowly down the steps, eyes taking in the quiet scene yet fully aware of the tension in his older brother\u2019s shoulders. Adam had one of the dining room chairs next to the settee, basin and bandages scattered on the floor beside him. Maybe it was the sound of his boots on the steps that caused Adam to turn, tipping the chair as he stood up.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoc will be down in a bit. He got the bullet out. Said Pa lost a lot of blood and is pretty darn weak. There\u2019s some infection \u2018cause of that bullet being in there so long, and he\u2019s still fightin\u2019 the fever. But he thinks Pa will be all right if he gets lots of rest and takes it easy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s expression went from guarded to worried and back to guarded.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019ll be asking for Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Doc gave him some medicine so he\u2019ll sleep for a while, but I reckon you\u2019re right. How\u2019s Joe doin\u2019?\u201d Hoss nodded toward their younger brother.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe came around once. Didn\u2019t stay awake long enough to answer any questions, or get anything to drink.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoc said we really need to get some water in him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know that, Hoss. But-\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam, look.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss stepped closer, one hand on his brother\u2019s back as they both bent over the settee. Joe was looking up at them. His lips moved but no sound came out, just a low moan as he tried to move. Adam leaned closer, his hand stilling the movement.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe? You with us?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAd . . Adam? Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n

The voice was so faint, the two brothers leaned even closer to hear.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, Joe. We\u2019re both here. You just stay still now while ol\u2019 Hoss gets you a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss squeezed Adam\u2019s shoulder as he stepped away. It only took a moment to fill a glass from the pitcher. By the time he turned back, Adam was seated on the chair again, one hand resting on Joe\u2019s forehead, the other wrapped around Joe\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere, let\u2019s set you up a bit.\u201d<\/p>\n

Handing Adam the glass, Hoss slipped an arm behind Joe\u2019s shoulders to gently raise his little brother. Adam held the glass, urging Joe to take first one then two sips. That was all they managed before Joe made it clear that he\u2019d had enough. Back against the pillows, his eyes open marginally wider, Joe looked back and forth between his brothers.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re home, Joe. You\u2019re safe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe didn\u2019t seem to hear them, his eyes still searching.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa. Pa\u2019s . . gone . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Joe. No. Pa\u2019s upstairs and he\u2019s going to be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa . . I\u2019m . . sorry. I . . tried . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s eyes drifted closed and Hoss sighed as moisture trickled from them.
\nAdam must have noticed too.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s get him upstairs, Hoss. Maybe he\u2019ll rest better there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n

As Hoss picked up his little brother, he was struck by the boy\u2019s size. Boy. He was nearly a man. Yet his lithe frame fit easily into Hoss\u2019s arms. Holding Joe close, he headed for the stairs, followed by Adam, but halfway up the steps they were surprised by a fervent knock on the front door. Hoss stopped to look back at his brother.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you hear . . horses?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t hear anything. You get Joe upstairs and I\u2019ll see who it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam was already heading back down by the time Hoss got to the upper hall. Hurrying to Joe\u2019s room, anxious to help Adam if need be, Hoss instinctively knew that no one returning to the scene of the crime would bother to knock. Still, he was uneasy. Too much had happened not to be.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere Hoss, let me help you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doc Martin had followed him into Joe\u2019s room, and was already pulling down covers and adjusting the pillow. Hoss was careful to lower his brother gently to the bed, but Joe\u2019s moan stopped him short.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s alright, Hoss. I\u2019ll get him settled. There are men in the front and I believe I saw Roy Coffee with them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably the posse he was gettin\u2019 together.\u201d Hoss stood, uncertain for a moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019ll be all right, Hoss. Go ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks Doc. Take good care of him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss patted Joe\u2019s leg, a brotherly show of affection he was suddenly nervous to demonstrate. He didn\u2019t want to leave the kid, but there was work to be done. Studying his brother\u2019s face one more time, anger flaring anew at the sight of the cuts and bruises, Hoss turned on his heel and headed through the door.<\/p>\n

There was a break in the conversation when Hoss joined Adam and Roy downstairs. The two men seemed to be staring each other down, each sure of their position and unwilling to budge. Hoss could tell that Adam wasn\u2019t happy about something, but knew enough to hold his tongue when older brother had that dark look about him. So although instinct urged him to be the peacemaker, he waited. He knew that Adam was desperate to find the men who\u2019d hurt their pa and brother, and Hoss felt the same way. Anger burned within him, barely controlled and fierce in its desire for retribution. And for that reason, he was shocked when Adam dropped his gaze first.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right, Roy. But I don\u2019t like it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll find them, Adam. I promise you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss looked from one to the other, even more confused.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s he right about, Adam? Aren\u2019t we goin\u2019 to look for this bunch? What are we waitin\u2019 for?\u201d<\/p>\n

Silently, Roy reached out to pat Adam on the shoulder then with a nod to Hoss, he hurried out the door.<\/p>\n

Quickly losing his temper, Hoss realized he was acting more like Adam or Joe than his normal easy-going self, but that didn\u2019t stop his outburst. After the last few hours, who could expect anything else? Fists clenched, he stepped in front of his brother.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the hell is going on? Adam, we gotta find those men. Make \u2018em pay for what they did to Pa and Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

One arm pushing Adam to the side, Hoss lunged for the door, anxious to catch the sheriff.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll get the horses.\u201d<\/p>\n

But Adam grabbed his arm before he could pull the door open, the two of them suddenly face to face.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss, stop! Think this through.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s nothing to think about! We need to help Roy find whoever did this. We owe it to Pa and Joe!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRoy has enough men to help him search. We\u2019re needed here, Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou stay, then. I\u2019m going with the posse.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss grabbed for the door as Adam reached for him again. The sudden movement and his already flared temper pushed Hoss to the edge, his fist suddenly bunched and arm pulled back. It was the look in Adam\u2019s eyes that stopped him just short of plunging a burly fist into his brother\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss?\u201d Adam stared at him, waiting.<\/p>\n

He knew his voice sounded as bad as he felt, but Hoss managed one last attempt.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoc\u2019s here, and-\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what? He\u2019ll take care of both Pa and Joe? What if one of them takes a turn for the worse? What if those men would decide to come back? What if . . No, Hoss, there\u2019s different ways to take care of our family. This time we\u2019re needed here.\u201d<\/p>\n

The anger melted swiftly, leaving Hoss with his head hanging, his chest heaving with emotion no longer contained. When he looked up at his brother, he realized Adam was fighting the same battle, probably had been since Roy Coffee first walked in the house. They stared at each other silently until Adam finally settled an arm across Hoss\u2019s shoulders.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich one do you want first?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss swallowed hard, his gaze focused on his boots until he managed to answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll sit with Joe for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine. I\u2019ll sit with Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

They were almost at the stairs when Hoss stopped abruptly.<\/p>\n

\u201cSoon as they\u2019re better, or we get someone here to help out, I\u2019m going out to find those fellas, Adam. And you won\u2019t be able to stop me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudging up the steps, Hoss swore he heard a faint voice answer:<\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t stop you, brother, I\u2019ll be right there beside you.\u201d<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

The flames were close, so close that he could feel the warmth on his skin. His throat ached with the heat, tightening around what little bit of cool air was left to him. Joe thought he cried out, but he couldn\u2019t hear his voice, the only sound was the roaring in his ears. The roar of the fire as it grew closer.<\/p>\n

\u201cHelp me!\u201d<\/p>\n

Why couldn\u2019t he hear his voice? He knew he\u2019d screamed, could still feel it vibrating within his chest. Why couldn\u2019t he hear his own words?<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

But Pa was dead. He wouldn\u2019t hear his son\u2019s cries, even if they were capable of being heard. Ben Cartwright had been killed by some worthless thieves, and his son had done nothing to stop them.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh God . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Struggling to sit up, to stand, to run, Joe suddenly realized that he was still bound by the rough hemp. They\u2019d left him here. Left him tied to a fence while his father bled to death inside their home; left him to die by fire. Where there\u2019d been cold and rain, now there was heat and flames. And he was going to die.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease . . oh God . . please!\u201d<\/p>\n

The ropes seemed to tighten with every move until Joe felt that he couldn\u2019t breathe. He strained to see through the darkness, but there was nothing, only an orange glow around the edges of his vision. His eyes streamed from the heat, and he ached to wipe the tears from his face. If only Adam or Hoss would come, they could save him, pull the ropes away and set him free. But they would also know his shame. He\u2019d let their father die.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Straining, pulling, rearing up against the bonds that held him, Joe fought hard.
\nNeck arched, he struggled for air, any escape from the overpowering heat. A scream cut through the night, and Joe strained even harder. It was his own cry and he knew that no one could hear, but he called out again as if some miracle would bring his father back from the dead.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, please pa!\u201d<\/p>\n

Then suddenly a hand cupped his chin, the caress gentle its familiarity breaking through his agony. Along with the hand came a calm and loving voice, the words lost in the flow of a cadence that he would recognize anywhere. But how . . Pa was gone. Gone to . .<\/p>\n

\u201cHeaven?\u201d<\/p>\n

His tired brain registered the concept even as his weary body succumbed. Heaven. His Pa was gone, but he\u2019d come back for him. Finally.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa . . I\u2019m so . . sorry Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

Chaos erupted in Joe\u2019s room. Paul Martin hurried out, headed for the pump and more cold water while Hoss held tight to his little brother\u2019s body, fighting against the bucking and kicking energy; energy that should\u2019ve been long spent. Adam, too, was holding onto Joe, trying desperately to calm his brother with soothing words and a gentle touch. Nothing was working. Joe was delirious and fought them like a wild cat, straining and pulling until they were sure he would hurt himself.<\/p>\n

The pleas for help were the worst, calling for his pa in a voice that seemed to know his pa wouldn\u2019t come. Adam straightened up, looking around wildly in search of an answer to this madness, only to turn in surprise at the voice behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me through! Joseph. Calm down, son. I\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam lost his balance, barely catching himself as Ben pushed by.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy God. What did they do to you, boy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Perched on the edge of the bed, his own battered countenance matched his son\u2019s as Ben leaned over Joe. Eyes hooded with pain and sadness, suddenly filled with moisture at the sight of white bandages barely covering raw wrists. Emotion barely in check, Ben gently cupped Little Joe\u2019s chin as he softly called his name again. Adam and Hoss watched in amazement as their brother responded. The fight abruptly ceased, limbs stilled as Joe slowly relaxed against the pillows. Ben\u2019s large hand remained on Joe\u2019s cheek even as sleep overtook his son.<\/p>\n

Adam stood behind his father, one hand on Ben\u2019s shoulder, the other clamped around Joe\u2019s ankle where he\u2019d been holding on.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatcha doin\u2019 outta bed, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss reached across the bed, trying to help support his father as Ben leaned over Joe. It was obvious the man had no business being out of bed himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cBen, what in heaven\u2019s name?\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul Martin bustled into the room, pausing only to set a pitcher of cold water on the washstand before hurrying over to his patients.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing in here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy son needed me. Where else would I be?\u201d<\/p>\n

The three men exchanged glances over Ben\u2019s head as he continued to watch over Joe. It was clear that none of them approved of his rash deed, yet each of them recognized his presence had achieved what nothing else had. Little Joe was resting easy, or at least easier than he had been in hours. With something close to a sigh of acquiescence, Paul moved around the bed to check on his youngest patient. Adam watched the doctor closely, hoping for some sign of improvement, but was disappointed when Paul turned and motioned toward the stand.<\/p>\n

\u201cBring me some cold cloths, his fever is higher.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam continued to support Ben while Hoss hurried over to empty the pitcher into the basin and soak several cloths in the icy water. As soon as he\u2019d handed them over to the doctor, he crossed the room again to pull a padded chair close to the bed.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo use wastin\u2019 time gettin\u2019 you back to your room, is there Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not going anywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t think ya would.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam saw the hint of a grin before Hoss glanced back at the bed where Doc Martin worked over Joe, the sight causing his brother to frown instead.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s get you settled, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you get the chair . . closer?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss made a few adjustments, a chair moved one way, desk pushed another until the large chair sat just off the end of Joe\u2019s bed, too far for Ben to reach, but close enough to watch his son with ease. The two worked quickly to settle Ben in the overstuffed chair, tucking several pillows around him to support his arm and shoulder before laying a quilt across his lap. The whole time Ben simply stared quietly at his youngest, his eyes following Paul from bed to basin and back as he changed the fever-heated cloths.<\/p>\n

It was obvious that his journey from next door was too much, and they all knew he wouldn\u2019t last long. But Adam knew better than to question his father\u2019s will power, especially when it came to being there for one of his sons.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam! Hoss! Help me hold him.\u201d<\/p>\n

The brothers lunged forward as Joe began to seize. His body stiffened, limbs straight as his neck arched back. It was a frightening sight, the jerky movements driving spikes of fear into Adam\u2019s heart. Although Joe was always in motion, this uncontrolled movement was very different.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss, hold him! Adam, get something in his mouth so he doesn\u2019t bite his tongue!\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul shouted orders while he tucked wet cloths behind Joe\u2019s neck and along his sides. It seemed like hours rather than minutes before the seizing slowed then stopped. By the time Joe\u2019s body had relaxed, the three men were breathing hard, each overcome by the sight and implications of the situation. Adam stared down at this little brother, wondering how much more the kid could take. Without realizing, he\u2019d reached out to gently push dark curls away from Joe\u2019s forehead in much the same way his father would have done. And with that realization, he whirled around to find Ben slumped to the floor in front of his chair. In all the frenzy over Joe, no one had seen him getting up, or collapsing.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m all right, Adam. Just tend to your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s resting easy, Pa. Let\u2019s get you up.\u201d Hoss countered.<\/p>\n

Without waiting for permission, the two worked quickly and carefully to get their father off the floor and back in the chair again.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019d ya think you were doin\u2019 Pa? You\u2019re too weak to be movin\u2019 around so much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was going to my son.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s simply reply brought silence to the room, all eyes focused again on the figure in the bed. Paul was still applying cold cloths, his worried frown belying his concern.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019s he . . he doing, Paul?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUnresponsive. But that\u2019s to be expected after a seizure. We need to do more to get this fever down. Hoss, can you get some ice up here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure thing, Doc.\u201d<\/p>\n

With a quick look at Joe and then Ben, Hoss trotted out of the room, and for a few minutes the loudest sound in the house was the big man\u2019s heavy steps on the stairs.<\/p>\n

Adam felt torn between the desire to help with Joe and the need to be with Ben. Certain that Joe was in good hands with the doctor, he quickly opted for his pa. Squatting down in front of the chair, Adam laid a hand on his father\u2019s knee and waited until Ben looked at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe\u2019s going to be okay, Pa, and he\u2019s going to need you when he wakes up. Why don\u2019t you get back to bed? You need to rest too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m staying here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re just wearing yourself out. And you have the wound bleeding again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t matter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoc is taking good care of him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to be here with my son.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll get you if there\u2019s any need.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Adam! I\u2019m staying right here. Don\u2019t you understand? I wasn\u2019t there for him when he needed me. I won\u2019t leave him again.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam was stunned by the despair in Ben\u2019s eyes as he stared at his youngest stretched out on the bed. It was the first time he\u2019d said more than a few words about the ordeal, and Adam needed to know the details.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben leaned back in the chair, his gaze never leaving Joe. Adam tipped back on his heels, waiting patiently for more details.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe was upstairs getting ready when they surprised me in the kitchen. It happened so fast. They had Joe . . and I . . I made a mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere were five of them. Never saw them before, but I will see them again.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam hung his head, eyes focusing on the carpet, chair legs, anything but his father\u2019s gaze. He wasn\u2019t the only one that wanted to see these devils pay.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey hurt him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s voice was faint, but it brought Adam back from his musing with a start.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t . . understand. They hurt him . . because of me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWha-\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey hit him . . cut his . . Adam, they . . tortured him. And . . it was . . my fault.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Pa. Joe wouldn\u2019t-\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy fault . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s chin dropped towards his chest, eyes glittering with unshed tears. Adam wanted to ask, needed to know, but was suddenly afraid to push his father too far. Tired, injured, feverish, the man needed to be in bed, not sitting in his son\u2019s room remembering the horrific events that brought them here.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease Pa, you need to rest awhile. You\u2019re right here close, and I\u2019ll wake you if there\u2019s any change.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben nodded slightly, barely keeping his emotions in check as he leaned back against the pillows. His hands clenched the padded arms of the chair but he closed his eyes and within a few minutes was relaxing into a much-needed sleep. Still watching his father, Adam rose from his crouched position, taking a moment to straighten the blankets before turning away.<\/p>\n

Taking two steps to the bed, Adam grabbed hold of the footboard, unable to hold in his frustration any longer.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the hell happened here?\u201d<\/p>\n

Startled at the angry words, Hoss and Paul stopped what they were doing; the large pieces of ice wrapped and waiting were forgotten as they stared at Adam.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did those bastards do to our family?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s knuckles were white, his heart pounding, and the room swayed through his blurred vision. There was no answer to his questions, just silence accompanied by the feverish breathing from Joe and a gentle snore from their father. Everything else faded away as Adam fought to control his anger, and for a moment he felt all alone, as if only he were left in a world gone mad. Then a large hand clamped around his bicep, the grip firm yet gentle.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Adam. Let\u2019s you and me take a walk.\u201d<\/p>\n

The pause was long, broken finally by Adam\u2019s faint reply.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I\u2019m alright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. We both are, but it won\u2019t hurt to take a break.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPaul needs us.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo along, Adam. Hoss is right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss\u2019s not so gentle pressure on his arm finally moved Adam to release his hold. It wasn\u2019t that he was above fighting his brother, but he simply didn\u2019t have the energy to resist.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust for a few minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two trudged slowly from the room, Hoss\u2019s arm draped across Adam\u2019s shoulders as they closed the door behind them.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a fighter!\u201d<\/p>\n

Still clear in his memory hours after Doc Martin had muttered the words, Hoss hung onto them like a lifeline. Joe was a fighter. Joe \u2018is\u2019 a fighter. Just look at him, still hanging tough even though his body was near losin\u2019 the battle.<\/p>\n

Hoss pushed his sleeves up and dropped the towels in the bucket only to pull them out to wring excess water from the dripping fabric. They\u2019d long ago given up on the small basin and little cloths. The fever had taken such a hold on the boy they\u2019d been forced to near cover his sweating flesh with cold towels and ice compresses. At least he hadn\u2019t had another one of those seizures.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere, Adam, another cold one.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam deftly removed a warm towel from Joe\u2019s chest to replace it with the cold one. The frown he wore hadn\u2019t changed in the past several hours and the sight made Hoss look away. He was worried enough without seeing it reflected in his brother\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

\u2018See . . there he is . . tell Pa . .\u2019<\/p>\n

Activity ceased for a moment, as everyone waited for more, but there was nothing. It\u2019d been like this for the better part of the night. Questions that had no answers, statements that didn\u2019t fit together or make any sense, the ranting of a sick man giving his brothers more worry than they could handle.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss, give me another.\u201d<\/p>\n

Without hesitation, Hoss grabbed the next towel and plunged it into the bucket.<\/p>\n

\u201cGlad I brought two up last time, but they\u2019re goin\u2019 fast.\u201d He murmured without expecting any response.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll go for the next ones, Hoss. I could use some fresh air.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure Doc. There\u2019s some coffee on the kitchen stove, if you want a cup.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about you boys? Can I bring you anything?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2018Pa! Give him another one, Pa. You promised!\u2019<\/p>\n

Hoss looked from Adam to Joe and back.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo thanks, Doc.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul waited until Hoss had removed two more of the cloths before gathering the buckets and heading downstairs.<\/p>\n

No longer motionless, Joe was suddenly all movement without purpose. His head moved from side to side, as if he were looking for something even though his eyes were closed. Feet stirred under white sheets, while his hands clenched and unclenched below pink-tinged bandages. It was hard to watch.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019m surprised Pa hasn\u2019t woke up, with all the commotion.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPaul slipped something in that last glass of water you gave him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe did?<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, thought you noticed him mixing it up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNah, guess I was too focused on Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think he hated to do it, but figured Pa needed the rest after . . after everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBest thing for him. Not like he can help much anyway, what with his shoulder and all. Just causin\u2019 him more worry, to see Joe like this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss rolled up a small wet cloth and tucked it behind his brother\u2019s neck.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long ya think this can go on?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam simply shook his head, unwilling or unable to answer the question.<\/p>\n

\u2018Adam and Hoss will go! See \u2018em?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss sat down on the edge of the bed, one hand gently pushing Joe\u2019s damp hair from his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it easy, Shortshanks, we\u2019re right here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2018I told you. No! Don\u2019t . . don\u2019t do it!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLittle Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe can\u2019t hear you, Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know. But I keep hopin\u2019 he\u2019ll recognize my voice.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam didn\u2019t answer, simply turned back to the wash basin for another cloth.<\/p>\n

\u2018Pa, you gotta do it . .\u2019<\/p>\n

Hoss dropped his head in his hands. It was hard for a man to take, seein\u2019 his brother suffer like this. And Pa, pale and weak, slumped to the side in a chair that didn\u2019t suffice for a bed.<\/p>\n

Time passed slowly, minutes running together until Hoss was almost surprised to hear Doc Martin return. Paul\u2019s voice was like a balm, his presence a simple reassurance.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019s he doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout the same.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss forced himself from Joe\u2019s side to situate the buckets that Paul had brought up with him. They wrapped more cool cloths around Joe, doing their best to get the fever down, the three working together seamlessly.<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t sure how much time had passed, but little by little Joe seemed to be quieting.
\nDoc had been encouraging when he finally gave in to a short nap, but Hoss wasn\u2019t convinced the worst was over. Didn\u2019t look like Adam was either, but they didn\u2019t talk about it. In fact, several hours passed with nothing being said at all, nothing until Adam finally spoke.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you get some rest too, Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going to need to spell each other if this goes on for long. You get some sleep and then I\u2019ll take a break. I\u2019ll call you if there\u2019s any need.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was no more said for a while, and everything was quiet except for some soft snoring. Maybe that helped Hoss give in, or maybe it was the warmth of the room and the crackling fire. Suddenly he was tired, so tired. His eyes felt gritty, and though he continued to stare at Joe, it was like looking through a smoky screen. It was hard to give in, but reluctantly he did.<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess I could lay down for a spell, but you come get me if he gets worse, or if Pa needs somethin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss got up slowly, reluctant to leave the room. At the door, he turned to stare at Joe again.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll leave my door open. Just holler and I\u2019ll be up if you need me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, Hoss. But we\u2019ll be fine. Get some rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

It seemed like a long walk, though his room was only steps away. Hoss didn\u2019t bother to pull back the blankets, but simply stretched out on his bed and heaved a long sigh. Slowly his body started to relax, the hum of low voices drifting across the hall. Instead of lulling him to sleep however, he found his attention split between trying to make out the conversation and watching a bit of light faintly moving on the ceiling, a weak reflection from the flickering hallway lamp.<\/p>\n

Closing his eyes didn\u2019t help. Almost instantly he was staring again at the pinpoint of light, the murmuring voices still coming to him from Joe\u2019s room. It was no use, and Hoss pulled himself tiredly from the soft mattress to sit on the edge of his bed. He didn\u2019t bother to turn up his own lamp, but sat quietly in the darkened room, his mind playing over every minute of the past twenty four hours.<\/p>\n

Staring down at his own large hands, Hoss instead saw the chaffed wrists of his little brother. Fists clenched, he bowed his head and wished for the release that could only come from finding the men who had done this to his family.<\/p>\n

Although it had been only minutes, Hoss slowly got to his feet and once more crossed the darkened hallway. No matter how tired he was, there was only one place he could be. At least . . for now. Later, he had a job to do.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

Ben awoke to the sound of snoring. Familiar in tone and rhythm, he knew it had to be Hoss. The realization was almost enough to comfort him. Almost.<\/p>\n

The barest of movement took his breath away, muscles screaming from the abuse of the past few days. Normally it would\u2019ve given him pause, but his desire for answers far outweighed his need to rest, so Ben moved forward another few inches in his chair.<\/p>\n

There was the source of the noise, and yes, it was Hoss. Head tipped back against the chair, mouth open, it was a wonder the whole house wasn\u2019t awake. But Ben didn\u2019t have the heart to be annoyed, not when he noticed his son\u2019s large hand resting, even in sleep, on Joe\u2019s leg. As he became more aware, Ben realized there was an accompanying though softer snore from Paul Martin who was slumped awkwardly in a chair near the window.<\/p>\n

It was the sight of Adam that caught and held Ben\u2019s attention. His oldest was perched on the edge of a wooden chair, upper part of his body leaning forward on the bed, head resting on folded hands.<\/p>\n

At first, Ben thought his son had fallen asleep in that position. \u2018Uncomfortable looking,\u2019 was his thought as he scooted toward the edge of his chair. With his next breath, Ben\u2019s heart lurched in his chest as realization dawned. The movement, though slight, was distinct. Shoulders shaking with emotion, Adam must be crying, and the realization evoked the same response from Ben, along with a healthy dose of fear.<\/p>\n

Joe was dead . . . he\u2019d slipped away in the night while his father slept.<\/p>\n

Pitching forward, Ben literally fell from his chair, knees hitting the floor, his good arm grabbing for the bedpost.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the-\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe . . . God no, not Joe . . \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss, help me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all right, Pa. Everything\u2019s all right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGod forgive me . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Voices mingled, gliding over and around each other, accompanied by the sound of furniture moving amid gut-wrenching sobs.<\/p>\n

Yet within the swirl of noise and activity, a voice raised in supplication rose above the others bringing with it, resounding silence.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

The heat was there although distant, as if he was a long way from the camp fire. Joe wondered lazily if Hoss had let the fire die down. There\u2019d be hell to pay if Adam noticed.<\/p>\n

Sleep pulled at him, and Joe gave up trying to reason out where he was or why he cared about a campfire. He was warm enough, wasn\u2019t he? Besides, there were voices nearby, meaning Pa was probably up and that meant breakfast soon. Someone would surely stoke the fire so the coffee could be started. Although water sounded better; a nice cold drink would sure taste good about now.<\/p>\n

Fire.<\/p>\n

Wait. No, it wasn\u2019t a campfire he\u2019d been . . hell fire? Was that what he\u2019d been experiencing? The memory was too terrible and Joe\u2019s mind quickly flitted away from the recollection.<\/p>\n

Rope. That was part of it. Rope, tightening around his . . No, he could move now, he\u2019d . .<\/p>\n

The sound . . moans or sobs . . someone . . were they crying? The cadence was low, choked back as if someone were trying to hide . . Adam? It couldn\u2019t be. Not big brother . . . not Adam. He\u2019d never . . it wasn\u2019t possible . . yet it had to be . . . it was. .<\/p>\n

One hand snaked out from the coverlet, fingers slowly inching to the form pressed near his side. Slowly opening his eyes, Joe recognized Adam\u2019s dark head resting on folded hands, and he reached out. Black hair felt soft against the torn skin of his fingers but Joe stopped, suddenly afraid to face his brother\u2019s anguish. Adam knew the truth. He knew. He\u2019d found Pa. He knew that Pa was dead. Adam knew that Joe had failed.<\/p>\n

Grief washed over him like a wave of ice water. Heart pounding, throat constricting until his lungs burned, Joe wanted to scream out his pain but no sound would come. Eyes closed until only a pinprick of light seemed to pierce his vision, and everything was fading away, his focus only on the soft sobs of the brother beside him. Joe couldn\u2019t bear it, couldn\u2019t face the pain he felt radiating off Adam, couldn\u2019t-<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe . . . God no, not Joe . . \u201d<\/p>\n

The voice sliced through him and everything else melted away. Who? How? Was he dreaming? Could it . .<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s sobs no longer mattered. The only thing in the world was the sound of that voice, now accompanied by wails of grief that didn\u2019t belong to his brother. They were from his . . . father. His pa. But it couldn\u2019t be . . . Pa was dead. Joe knew it, remembered the piercing pain in his heart when he realized that his father was gone.<\/p>\n

Yet that voice . . . Pa\u2019s voice . . no one else could sound like his pa! And the voice was right there . . .<\/p>\n

Raising his head off the pillow just enough to see the group beside his bed, Joe moved his hand from Adam and stretched it toward the man he thought he\u2019d lost forever.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

Although his voice sounded faint and weak, Joe realized that his one-worded plea had brought silence to the room. Faces turned toward him, but all he could see was the look on his father\u2019s face. Too many emotions. Raw, unbelievable, miraculous emotions. Joe stretched further until his arm screamed with pain, and still he couldn\u2019t reach his father.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

Happy noise or stunned silence in the room, Joe didn\u2019t notice. All he knew was the vision before him was real. Hoss was helping Pa to the bedside and within seconds, father and son were carefully embracing each other, the older brothers\u2019 hands gently placed on their loved ones. The sound of quiet sobs could\u2019ve been from any of them. But Joe focused only on the feel of his father\u2019s arms around him. And as it sunk in, he simply closed his eyes and basked in enormous relief. His pa was alive!<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s enough, Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow Joe, you only ate half this soup. Can\u2019t ya try just a little more?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFeel like I\u2019m four again . . Pa cuttin\u2019 my meat or . . makin\u2019 me take another bite.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHa! You ain\u2019t careful, little brother, I\u2019ll get Pa in here to give it a try.\u201d<\/p>\n

Silence greeted his teasing, and Hoss let the spoon drop back into the bowl.<\/p>\n

\u201cHands hurtin\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEverything hurts.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s gonna be alright, Joe, \u2018specially now we\u2019re sure you can see outta that eye. Won\u2019t be no time \u2018fore yur settin\u2019 up to the table shoveling in some of Hop Sing\u2019s tender roast beef.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about . . Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss gently grasped Joe\u2019s forearm, waiting for their eyes to meet before answering.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe done told ya, boy. Don\u2019t ya remember? Pa is fine. He\u2019s gettin\u2019 some sleep, but he\u2019ll be back in here before ya know it. He\u2019s alright, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

With a light squeeze, Hoss let go of his brother\u2019s arm to straighten the blankets and tuck another pillow behind Joe\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou get some sleep and I\u2019ll go clean up the kitchen. If Hop Sing comes back to that mess, he\u2019ll have all our hides for sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss gathered up the dishes then stopped on his way out to pull the drapes closed against the morning sun. With one hand on the heavy cloth, he stopped abruptly to study the commotion in the yard. Glassware rattled in his hand as he leaned forward to see Sheriff Coffee leading the posse up to the house, the group seemingly quiet and dejected. Hoss didn\u2019t wait to count heads, but quickly pulled the drapes together and headed for the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou get some sleep, Joe. I\u2019ll be back to check on ya in a little while.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pulling the door firmly closed behind him, Hoss hurried down the hallway toward the stairs, careful to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. He was halfway to the bottom of the steps when he realized that Adam was standing at the table, saddle bags full.
\nHoss pounded down the last two steps and all but dropped the dishes on the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cSheriff just rode in.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam swung around, buckling his gun belt around his hips as he strode toward the door, Hoss only a step behind.<\/p>\n

\u201cRoy!\u201d<\/p>\n

Opening the door revealed the sheriff looking more tired than either could remember.<\/p>\n

\u201cBoys. How\u2019s your pa, and Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam stepped back to allow the lawman\u2019s entrance, while Hoss stepped into the doorway, intent on trying to recognize the posse members in the yard.<\/p>\n

\u201cEveryone okay out there, Roy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. We only have one man hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich one? Bring him in!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo need, it was Jim Williams and he\u2019s already headed for town. It was a flesh wound and Morgan rode in with him. He\u2019ll be alright.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

It wasn\u2019t lost on Hoss, Adam\u2019s dark scowl and fierce gaze. Roy didn\u2019t seem to be bothered, but waited patiently for the answer to his own question instead.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re both going to be all right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss motioned toward the settee while keeping a close eye on Adam. He could tell the dark energy was barely in check. If he were honest, he had the same feelings himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cSit down, Roy. You look done in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am. But so are the rest of the boys outside. Just wanted to stop here first and check on Ben and Joe, and tell you what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did happen, Roy?\u201d Adam questioned again.<\/p>\n

Slowly turning to face the seething man, Roy took a deep breath, obviously trying to hold his own temper before dealing with Adam.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe found \u2018em.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cAnd they didn\u2019t want to come in peaceable. In fact, they started shooting before we got close enough to do any talking. They\u2019re all dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s cry wasn\u2019t one of pain, yet Hoss knew that\u2019s exactly what it was. He felt it himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what was it all for? All the trouble, the torture, the money . . for what?\u201d<\/p>\n

The question hung in the air between them, the three of them silenced by the simplistic plea. Roy twisted his hat between his hands, then finally looked at Adam and answered quietly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess we\u2019ll never know, boys. Those men out there, well, they died for their crime. There\u2019s no way to punish \u2018em further. And the revenge you were hopin\u2019 for wouldn\u2019t have made you feel any better, either. We just need to be grateful that your pa and brother are still here. In the end, nothing else really matters, does it?\u201d<\/p>\n

His words sounded eerily like something Ben might\u2019ve said, if he were up and about. At least, the way Ben usually felt. Hoss wasn\u2019t so sure after everything that had happened over the past few days. He hoped that Roy\u2019s simple verdict was true, that the family could get past this. But there was a lot of hurt and anger left to deal with, and now with these men dead, no chance of using that energy up on them.<\/p>\n

Roy slowly put his hat on then walked past them to his horse. Without speaking, he pulled a canvas bag from his saddle and brought it back to the porch. Adam took the bag, not bothering to look inside, but simply setting it inside the front door. He couldn\u2019t bear to look at the money right now, or think what it might\u2019ve cost them.<\/p>\n

Adam and Hoss stood quietly in the doorway as Roy climbed back into the saddle and led the posse toward Virginia City and their homes. The four bodies draped over their saddles were a grim reminder of the brutality that existed here hours before.<\/p>\n

Hoss watched as Adam stuffed hands deep in his pockets and walked slowly toward the barn. With a mixture of anger and relief, he followed his brother across the yard. They didn\u2019t need those bodies to remind them of what happened here. But they needed some kind of purging to ease the feelings they both harbored. Now, with the culprits gone, they would have to find some other way to expend the pent up energy. It didn\u2019t take much thinking to realize that it was already eating away at his older brother. And Hoss knew that, in the weeks ahead, they were going to need Adam\u2019s strength.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

The rope tightened slowly around his throat, the noose growing tighter and tighter until he couldn\u2019t breathe. Clawing at his neck brought no relief, his hands pulled by the loops of hemp circling his wrists. He had to get free, had to help . . Tears of frustration leaked from his eyes, heart beating faster with every twist and turn of his body as it bucked against the restraints. Why? Why were they doing this? He fought harder, a shout of anger laced with fear erupting only to die on his lips as a familiar voice came to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe. Joe!\u201d<\/p>\n

Eyes opened slowly to reveal familiar wooden beams overhead. Heart thumping, breathing heavy, his hands holding his neck, it took several minutes for Joe to realize there was no rope. He was free.<\/p>\n

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

Finally recognizing his father\u2019s worried voice, Joe turned enough to see his pa struggling to get out of the red leather chair. The book Ben had been reading was on the floor, the lap robe wadded up in a ball beside it. As he watched his father struggle one-armed to rise from his seat, the pieces suddenly fell into place and Joe remembered everything. He wasn\u2019t tied to a post, no rope wrapped around his arms or throat. He was free. Safe.<\/p>\n

One more deep shuddering breath and Joe willed himself to be calm.<\/p>\n

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

Wiping a shaky hand across his face, Joe could feel the dampness on his brow, clear evidence that the awful dream had its consequences. His body ached in more places than he wanted to admit, but Joe pushed himself to a sitting position then leaned against the settee\u2019s rounded back as he struggled to clear his mind. He didn\u2019t want to remember, even if it was just a dream. It was a little too close to the truth, and way too soon to think about.<\/p>\n

Ben hadn\u2019t stopped though, his progress slow but steady. Joe was still staring at the ceiling when his father settled beside him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure you\u2019re okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, Pa. I\u2019m fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t sound . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe was grateful to his father for not finishing the sentence, but his relief was short-lived.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re feeling guilty.\u201d<\/p>\n

The statement was simple but blunt. And it hit dead center on Joe\u2019s line of thinking, so much so that he almost bolted from the settee. Only his father\u2019s calm but restraining hand on his knee stopped his attempted escape.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, I don\u2019t want to-\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, you don\u2019t want to talk about it. But we have to. It\u2019s been three days, and you\u2019ve barely spoken to your brothers. Or me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHaven\u2019t heard you saying much either.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s conversation dried right up, and Joe would\u2019ve grinned at his unusual success if it hadn\u2019t been such a sensitive subject.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you try that book again, son? Might help you get your mind off . . things.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe snagged his father\u2019s sleeve as Ben moved to get up.<\/p>\n

They both knew that he wasn\u2019t fine. Neither of them were.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t feel guilty either.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTry to get some rest, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe set back, surprised at his father\u2019s sudden switch. Ben was usually the one that encouraged Joe to talk things out, but here he was, evading the subject better than Joe ever could. It was an unusual change in their relationship, one which Joe struggled to understand. His father was staring across the room as if he couldn\u2019t find a thing to say. Ben was always ready to offer advice and guidance when his sons needed it, but the minute the shoe was on the other . .<\/p>\n

And then unexpectedly, laughter bubbled up, and for the first time since he\u2019d woke up to his family\u2019s worried stares, Joe felt light in spirit.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to wonder where I get my stubbornness from.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben stiffened for a moment, his startled expression reflecting his inner turmoil.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you\u2019re feeling better after all, young man,\u201d he finally blurted out. \u201cYou\u2019re getting a little sassy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe leaned toward his pa, their shoulders touching for a moment. The room was quiet as they sat there together. Joe\u2019s voice was low when he finally found the right words, few as they were.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, it wasn\u2019t your fault.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben was looking down at his hands, clasping and unclasping his fingers. He started to speak several times, only to stop, clear his throat, and try again. Minutes passed before he managed to answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t give them the money when they threatened you.\u201d<\/p>\n

There, it was out. Unexpected. Blunt, but candid.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t know what they\u2019d do, Pa!\u201d Joe answered fervently. \u201cWe have to fight for what is ours. If we don\u2019t stand up to defend it, everyone will be taking a piece of the Ponderosa. And it\u2019s worth the fight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut no money, land, holdings . . nothing is worth a son\u2019s life. Nothing!\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe paused, consumed by the look of pain on his father\u2019s face. His voice was soft again, but very clear as he laid a hand on Ben\u2019s knee and gently squeezed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m right here, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t enough, not near enough to talk through or explain away all the hurt, fear, or regret. But neither of them was in a talking mood, and after more than a few minutes of strained silence, Joe knew he had to give his father some time.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t think I can read anymore. Maybe a short walk would do me good.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben didn\u2019t answer, just kept staring at the fireplace as Joe got up and moved toward the door. It wasn\u2019t until Joe had the door open that his pa finally acknowledged his leaving.<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it easy and don\u2019t overdo it, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, Pa. I\u2019ll be back in a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

Out on the porch, Joe leaned against the wall, silently regretting his hasty departure. He felt guilty, second-guessing his decision to leave. But it seemed right to give his father some privacy. They both had a lot to deal with. Still, he could\u2019ve done something, said more, or insisted Pa put aside any guilt. After all, if there was any guilt to be meted out, most of the portion should go right on his plate. He shouldn\u2019t have let those men get the drop on him. If he\u2019d done a better job of keeping his eyes open, he would\u2019ve known those men were in the house.<\/p>\n

Kicking at the step, Joe almost turned to go back inside, maybe try talking to his father again. Instead, the sound of an axe striking wood caught his attention. Curiosity drew Joe across the yard and out past the barn. And then, as he came around the corner and saw his oldest brother hard at work, Joe suddenly realized there were other family members who might be having trouble with this whole mess. In a flash of understanding, Joe remembered comments and snatches of conversations between Adam and Hoss over the past several days. There was anger involved, resentment and bitterness. He\u2019d ignored all that, for his own selfish reasons, as if he were the only one with a corner on the \u2018guilt\u2019 market.<\/p>\n

But now, down at the bottom of the old corral, Adam had an axe firmly in hand, the rhythmic chopping just about to do its job as the wooden post was wobbling and about to fall. Joe stopped short, his breath caught in his throat as he realized what was happening. This wasn\u2019t the first post to fall, but it was definitely the last. Adam had obviously been hard at work for some time, a half circle of posts already dropped by his hand. But this one, this last one . . .<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

Adam grunted as the axe struck the post again. It wasn\u2019t the first one, but it was the last. The \u2018one.\u2019 He could still see the scars on the wood where the ropes had rubbed their mark. Maybe that\u2019s why he\u2019d left it \u2018til last. Maybe that\u2019s why he felt he had to use the axe instead of the shovel. If nothing else, it was some type of catharsis, chopping away at this offending reminder.<\/p>\n

The post was wobbling when Adam stopped to rest. One or two more blows and it would be gone. Would it help? Pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket, he wiped his brow as he studied the piece of wood. This wasn\u2019t the only reminder, of course. Just looking at Joe\u2019s bruises, or watching Pa\u2019s face was more than enough to make them all know how many wounds needed to be healed. Not for the first time, Adam wished for the opportunity to beat the living hell out of the intruders who had hurt his family. It was one of life\u2019s ironies, he assumed, that he and Hoss had been denied the chance to inflict their own retribution.<\/p>\n

With a grown of exasperation, Adam kicked at the post. Hard. It was enough, and the timber fell to the ground. It was little satisfaction in the end, as Adam hopped on one foot to ease the other.<\/p>\n

\u201cHurt your foot, older brother?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn!<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s foot hit the ground as he straightened up. He hadn\u2019t heard Joe come up beside him, and felt foolish when he realized what his brother had witnessed.<\/p>\n

\u201cNah . . it\u2019s fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh huh . . \u201d Joe looked around, trying to keep his emotions in check. \u201cMakin\u2019 some changes?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam didn\u2019t answer, but stared past the line of dead posts, focusing on the tree line across the meadow. This whole thing was too hard for him to talk about. Clearly the whole family felt the same, as evidenced by the lack of conversation around the dinner table, or in front of the fireplace the last few evenings. They had to get through this.<\/p>\n

A strangled cough brought his attention to Joe. His little brother was looking in the same direction, the same tree line, making Adam wonder what his little brother might be remembering. After all, this was the view he\u2019d been staring at all those long hours. Had he thought they might be his last?<\/p>\n

An eagle screamed high overhead, and almost instantly a cool breeze swirled around them. Instinctively, Adam stepped closer and laid an arm across Joe\u2019s shoulders. There were times when Joe seemed to resent his attention, but this wasn\u2019t one of them. In fact, the kid almost leaned toward him.<\/p>\n

The two stood quietly but companionably as the moment passed and the eagle flew away on the breeze. Adam waited another few minutes before clearing his throat to state matter-of-factly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis corral isn\u2019t big enough for the yearlings we have coming up. Thought maybe we\u2019d enlarge it some. Give us a little more room to work with \u2018em this season.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe nodded appreciatively, seeming to go along with the routine order of business.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you plannin\u2019 to put the gate?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHadn\u2019t really thought about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about movin\u2019 it to the west side? Make it a little easier when we\u2019re comin\u2019 up from the pasture.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot bad.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe was already buying into the excuse.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd while we\u2019re at it, why don\u2019t we gate the other side and add a smaller pen for those times we need to separate one or two?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam looked down at Joe, the barest hint of a frown forming across his brow.<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess that makes sense, but I wasn\u2019t planning on that much work back here right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, but Adam, it does make sense to improve it all at the same time. No use doing this half-way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam pulled his arm from Joe\u2019s shoulder and bent to pick up the axe. He shook his head in feigned exasperation as he walked back to the pile of tools, deftly exchanging the axe for a shovel.<\/p>\n

\u201cI really don\u2019t have time for major renovations, Joe, thought we\u2019d just enlarge it a little.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAhh, come on, Adam. It won\u2019t take much time at all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, not much time for me to do the work, you mean. It\u2019s not like you\u2019re ready to be out here digging fence holes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe not, but I bet we both know a big brother that could lend a hand.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam stopped, leaning on the shovel as he grinned knowingly at Little Joe.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, now that you mention it, that\u2019s not such a bad idea.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two smiled broadly at each other, the tension suddenly melting away in the midst of their bantering. Impulsively, Adam turned to look toward the barn, not surprised to see his father and brother watching them. Caught up in the moment, he held his shovel up high, as if inviting Hoss\u2019s help, and was rewarded with the sound of Joe\u2019s familiar giggle.<\/p>\n

But it was Ben\u2019s laughter, ringing out over them all, that made everything feel right again.<\/p>\n

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

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

Summary:\u00a0Ben and Joe each watch helplessly as the other is attacked and left for dead. Father and son spend what may be their last hours fighting not only their injuries, but self-imposed doses of regret and guilt.<\/p>\n

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