{"id":7453,"date":"2010-03-31T13:16:29","date_gmt":"2010-03-31T17:16:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=7453"},"modified":"2026-07-30T15:33:31","modified_gmt":"2026-07-30T19:33:31","slug":"frozen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=7453","title":{"rendered":"Frozen (by a lisa south)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0<\/span>An lminzer\/southplains collaboration: The ransom note came attached to Joe’s coat: ‘We have your boy, Cartwright, and he’s cold. How long before he freezes to death?’ Can Ben save Joe from kidnappers before it’s too late?<\/p>\n

(Happy Birthday, Devonshire!)<\/em>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Rated:\u00a0 K+ (18,485 words)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Frozen<\/strong><\/p>\n

It was all because of the stupid wool coat his Pa had made him wear that morning. If it hadn’t been for that, none of it would have happened. Joe was absolutely sure of it.<\/p>\n

He hadn’t ridden more than ten minutes down the road toward Virginia City when beads of sweat began to form on his forehead beneath his hat. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, he lifted the hat long enough to swipe at his face with his sleeve; the rough wool was abrasive against his skin. Cool wind lifted his hair, and he turned his face into it to drink it in.<\/p>\n

“Sweatin’ like a pig in this blasted coat,” he muttered under his breath, and jammed the hat back onto his head. “Not even cold out.” He’d tried to tell his pa that very thing, but of course, Pa hadn’t listened. He never did about things like this.<\/p>\n

Another mile down the road, and rivulets of moisture were trickling down his spine beneath his shirt. Once again, he rolled his eyes at the memory of Pa’s insistence on the coat.<\/p>\n

“I’ll tell you what makes it worse, Cochise,” he grumbled. “Adam and Hoss never have to hear lectures from Pa about what to wear. Shoot, they could probably walk around buck naked if they wanted to and Pa wouldn’t even say a word about it.” Cochise flicked an ear. “Okay, okay, he probably would if they did that.”<\/p>\n

Still, Pa insisted on treating him like a baby even though he was almost eighteen, for crying out loud.<\/p>\n

He shifted uncomfortably as his skin protested against the prickly warmth of the coat, but it didn’t help. “To heck with this.” Pa or no Pa, he was getting shed of this stupid coat before it cooked him alive.<\/p>\n

He slowed his pony to a leisurely amble so he could shrug out of the coat. He\u2019d no sooner begun to unbutton it when a rope flew out, smacked him in the face, and dropped down to jerk him from the saddle. It yanked him backwards through the air until his back slammed hard against the ground, his breath driven from him. Several stunned heartbeats passed before he realized what had happened\u2014a lasso had swung out and plucked him from his horse, tossed so quickly while he’d been so intent on pulling off the coat that he’d never even seen the rope, much less the person holding the other end of it.<\/p>\n

No sooner had his brain processed that bit of information than two men instantly appeared to stand over him, both wearing the stupidly-pleased grins of trophy hunters who had just bagged their first grizzly. Yet it became apparent pretty darn quick that their intended quarry wasn’t game, but a Cartwright, any Cartwright. And lucky him\u2014he just happened to be the first one to cross their path.<\/p>\n

“‘Bout time, kid. You know how long we been out here waitin’ fer one of you Cartwrights to show up?”<\/p>\n

Understanding dawned, cold and sharp. He moved to try to get to his feet, and it was only then that he realized the rope pinned his arms to his sides. He wasted precious seconds struggling hard against the rope before remembering his gun a scant moment too late. He scrabbled uselessly for it beneath the heavy barrier of his coat, but before he could reach it one of his captors crouched down and snatched it up, thrusting the barrel so hard beneath Joe’s chin that he almost choked. He instantly stilled at the sharp click of a cocked hammer.
\n“What do you want?” he grated, swallowing hard against the pressure of the barrel against his throat.<\/p>\n

The man gave a hard laugh. “Shouldn’t be all that hard to figure out, kid. Way we hear it, yer old man’s got more money than anyone in the territory.”<\/p>\n

He gave the rope a quick, hard jerk, yanking Joe upward so his face was mere inches from his own.<\/p>\n

“So, kid…how much you think yer pa will pay to get you back?”<\/p>\n

“You’re wasting your time,” Joe replied, hoping he sounded tough. “My pa don’t take kindly to kidnappers. He’ll hunt you down\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

The man laughed again.<\/p>\n

“Way I see it, kid, yer pa will be too worried about your hide to come runnin’ after us. And he better be willing to pay up if he don’t want ya hurt none.”<\/p>\n

Joe looked around wildly on the slim chance that there was someone nearby who might come to his aid, but there was no one in sight. Cochise had slowed to a standstill when he’d abruptly lost his rider, and now the pinto was grazing contentedly alongside the road, oblivious to his master’s peril. Stupid horse.<\/p>\n

Rough hands grabbed Joe and jerked him to his feet. As the men began to drag him away from the road, they hooted and cackled about the scads of money they were about to make. Damn it all to hell, Joe fumed angrily. He had a date tonight for crying out loud! He’d been vying for the attentions of Mary Sue Simmons for a solid month, and now his well-laid plans were about to be dashed by two crooks out for some quick Cartwright cash. Well, this particular Cartwright wasn’t about to make it easy for ’em.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d he yelled, digging in his feet and trying to pull away from his captors. \u201cNO!”<\/p>\n

He caught the two off guard for a moment, clearly surprising them with his sudden resistance. He kicked out wildly and caught one of them square between the legs, and knew a moment of satisfaction when he heard a high-pitched yowl of pain. But there were still two of them and one of him, and his hands were tied.<\/p>\n

Plus, they still had the gun.<\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t matter. He continued to struggle, his fear and his anger hot and fierce, until his head exploded in a white flash of pain.
\n**********
\nThere was nothing quite like the knot left on a person\u2019s skull when they were pistol-clubbed, Joe thought. As he came to, the back of his head throbbed with all the intensity of hard-running hoof beats. Out of reflex, he started to raise his hand to cautiously touch the bump that he knew had to be on his head, but was immediately drawn up short since his hands were now tied behind his back. At least the lasso that had been wrapped around his midsection was gone. He couldn\u2019t remember getting hit, but the raw ache behind his ear and the relentless pounding in his head was proof enough.<\/p>\n

He blinked furiously, trying to bring his vision back into focus, as the memory of what had occurred trickled back. He swung his head to look around, and instantly regretted the movement; he squeezed his eyes shut as pain shot up the back of his skull to swirl in a red haze behind his eyelids. He opened his eyes again; with supreme effort, he managed to gather his groggy wits about him enough to look around, more carefully this time.<\/p>\n

A jumble of boulders the size of tiny cabins nested off to the right, their hulking shapes pocked here and there with small glazings of ice. To the left was a stand of bare, lightning-killed pines, rigid sentinels casting accusing shadows at him from several hundred yards away. And in front of him, an unfamiliar ridgeline crested into the sky. Everywhere else, nothing but heavy, unforgiving forest.<\/p>\n

Where the heck was he? Nowhere on the Ponderosa, he was sure. Pretty sure, anyway. The scattered patches of snow and the steep grade told him they were up high in the mountains somewhere, though exactly where, he couldn\u2019t begin to guess. While he\u2019d been out, the kidnappers had hunkered down and broken camp in this wooded clearing, using the surrounding pines as a wind break. He lay on the edge of it, trussed up tight as a wayward calf. The rope around his wrists was so tight his fingers were numb.<\/p>\n

The lasso that had so effectively taken him down wasn\u2019t the only thing gone; so was his coat. Maybe the kidnappers had taken it. Yeah, he thought grimly. They seemed just mean enough to do something like that.<\/p>\n

Sluggishly, he turned his head to see what the two were up to, and winced at the sharp pain even that small movement caused. He ignored it to test the ropes binding his wrists behind him; he pushed and tugged, but there was no give. Figured. His captors had probably learned knot-tying back in kidnapping school.<\/p>\n

They were ignoring him for the moment, likely thinking he was still unconscious. From beneath his lashes, he watched covertly as they labored to build a fire, and he hoped they\u2019d manage to get it done soon. It was colder in the higher altitude; he was starting to feel the wet ground through the thin material of his shirt. Gooseflesh rose along his skin. Now he wished he hadn\u2019t given Pa such a hard time about wearing his coat this morning.<\/p>\n

Pa.<\/p>\n

Pa would be missing him soon. Joe had promised that he\u2019d be home before dark. He bit his lip, suddenly guilty that his only concern had been that he\u2019d miss out on a date with Mary Sue, when he knew that within hours his father would be pacing the floor, worried sick about him. His sole consolation was that Adam or Hoss hadn\u2019t been along as well to be snatched up by these two low-lifes.<\/p>\n

A fierce wind rippled through the clearing, bringing it with it the sharp scent of ice and high-lying snowpack. Joe shivered, automatically curling up to shield himself. The movement caught the attention of his captors.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, lookie who\u2019s awake, Clyde,\u201d one of them sneered. \u201cBetcha ain\u2019t feelin\u2019 so cocky now, are ya, smartmouth?\u201d He snickered at Joe\u2019s angry glare. \u201cGetting\u2019 pretty cold, ain\u2019t ya, Cartwright? Sorry \u2018bout yer coat an\u2019 all. We\u2019re gonna need to send something to yer pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

He reached down and plucked Joe\u2019s coat from the ground nearby, turning it over to examine it.
\n\u201cNice coat. Bet it was expensive, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d He reached into the pockets. \u201cFeels like it would keep a body good and warm. I\u2019ve got half a mind to keep it fer myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKnock it off, Hal.\u201d The other kidnapper snatched the coat away. \u201cWe send this coat and old Ben Cartwright won\u2019t have no doubts that we got his boy. Anyway, soon as we get our money you can buy all the fancy coats you want.\u201d He reached into the pockets. \u201cOh, yeah, this\u2019ll do just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two didn\u2019t seem particularly intelligent, but they were nevertheless mean as snakes. Especially the one named Hal, who, judging by his still-hoarse voice, was the one Joe had nailed in the groin earlier. Hal was sure to be nursing a mile-wide grudge, and the hard looks he kept sending Joe\u2019s way made it clear that the man was itching to return the favor Joe had dealt him. It wouldn\u2019t be smart to rile him further.<\/p>\n

In any case, they\u2019d both been careless in thinking they\u2019d rendered him completely helpless by leaving him with only his hands tied.<\/p>\n

They didn\u2019t object as he scooted closer to the fire to warm himself, and Joe let out a silent breath of gratitude for that much, although he was no less furious over his current predicament. He sulked as the afternoon wore on, trying hard to contain his growing irritation as his kidnappers passed a whiskey bottle back and forth and excitedly yammered on about their impending wealth.<\/p>\n

As dusk fell, Clyde lurched to his feet, the pilfered coat clutched in one hand. He shook it out and folded it into a tidy square of wool, and then tied it carefully onto Cochise\u2019s saddle before clambering up on his own horse.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be back as soon as I deliver the note,\u201d he told Hal, jerking Cochise\u2019s reins loose from the bush he was tied to. \u201cYou watch him, you hear? And don\u2019t do anything stupid while I\u2019m gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, yeah,\u201d Hal muttered. \u201cJust see that you hurry up, hear? I don\u2019t much cotton to the notion of sittin\u2019 up here freezin\u2019 my tail off.\u201d<\/p>\n

Clyde spurred his horse into movement, tugging Cochise along behind, and disappeared into the undergrowth. Joe was left alone with Hal, who proceeded to finish off the rest of the whiskey. Ignoring Joe, he let out a loud belch, leaned back on his upturned saddle and closed his eyes.<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s heart hammered as he focused all his attention on the one man blocking his freedom. Time went by; he was afraid to guess how much. Hal\u2019s chest and belly rose and fell with increasingly deep regularity, the coarse hairs of his mustache vibrating with each long release of breath. Slowly bending his knees to pull his feet underneath him, Joe\u2019s boot scraped against stone, and he froze as Hal pulled in a hitching, snorting breath, shifting around against the saddle a few times before finally settling back again.<\/p>\n

The wind ruffled through the pines overhead in a whispered hush as more time passed. Other than the cold breeze, the only sounds were Hal\u2019s heavy breathing and the occasional resigned sigh of his tired mount as it stood tethered nearby. Over it all, the harsh pants of his own breathing filled Joe\u2019s ears.<\/p>\n

Like a deer crouching in cover as the hunter draws near, he wanted to explode out of position and run. The urge to do exactly that was so strong he could barely contain it. He shook with it, fought with it, almost gave in to it even as Hal\u2019s breath broke and then evened out once again.<\/p>\n

Wait\u2026wait\u2026be sure he\u2019s really asleep\u2026<\/p>\n

High overhead, a hawk\u2019s faraway cry pierced the sky, other worldly in its loneliness. A shudder ran up Joe\u2019s spine. As though marking the seconds and minutes ticking by, his headache pounded with merciless fury.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t going to be easy to run, he knew, not with his hands tied behind him like this, and not with snow and mud to contend with. Maybe running for it now wasn\u2019t such a good idea. Maybe it would be smarter just to take his chances, stay put and wait for a better opportunity\u2026<\/p>\n

Even as the thought crossed his mind, he shook his head. There might not be a better time; there might not be another time at all.<\/p>\n

His eyes riveted on Hal\u2019s slack face, he got his feet under him, and then heaved himself upward, his thigh muscles bunching with the effort of keeping him quietly balanced as he rose to a standing position. For a long second he stood absolutely still, heart pounding, expecting Hal to jump up and knock him to the ground again.<\/p>\n

But he didn\u2019t. He didn\u2019t move at all.<\/p>\n

Slowly, Joe turned and began to walk through the snow, gritting his teeth to keep himself from bursting into a full out run. One foot down, then the next. The compacting snow squeaked under his boots; he resisted the urge to look back. Another step, and another, and another.<\/p>\n

The treeline at the edge of the campsite, with its shadows and underbrush and cover, was almost within reach. Before he quite knew how it had happened, his legs were stretched out into a stumbling run, his feet matching his heartbeat to thrum out a desperate cadence.<\/p>\n

He could escape. He could. He was a fast runner and Hal was half drunk. All he had to do was make it into the heavier underbrush, and he was home free.<\/p>\n

But as he crashed his way through the dark forest beyond the clearing, it instantly became apparent that his bound hands hindered his progress even more than he\u2019d expected. The snow kept throwing him off balance, and he couldn\u2019t use his hands and arms to right himself.<\/p>\n

Worse, he hadn\u2019t figured that Hal would so quickly give chase, much less start shooting at him.<\/p>\n

Still, he managed to duck the first few shots, more likely due to Hal\u2019s drunken aim rather than his own awkward attempt at escape. He fixed his eyes on the dark haven of the forest in front of him and ignored both Hal\u2019s enraged yelling and the buzz of the bullets passing by his head. As the trees grew closer around him, he plunged forward, the thrum of his blood loud in his ears.<\/p>\n

And then the world abruptly tilted and the ground suddenly came up to meet him, and Joe knew he\u2019d been hit.
\nHe lay still, sucking in air, resting his face against ice-crusted snow. Hal\u2019s shouts reverberated around him, echoing off the trees and rocks to surround and trap him. He\u2019d be discovered any second now. He had to move. He had to move now.<\/p>\n

For the life of him, though, he couldn\u2019t make his body do what he wanted it to. He\u2019d been hit somewhere high on his back, that much he could tell. Liquid heat spread across his back, a stark contrast to the icy wetness of the snow into which he had fallen.<\/p>\n

Hal was nearly upon him. The squish of the man\u2019s boots sloshing through the mud and snow got louder and then suddenly stopped. In a flash of instinct, Joe closed his eyes and held his breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright? You dead, Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n

Don\u2019t move, don\u2019t move.<\/p>\n

He barely managed to hold back a yelp of pained surprise as Hal\u2019s boot poked hard into his side and flipped him onto his back. There was a sharp, shocked intake of breath, and a muted, \u201cAh, hell!\u201d<\/p>\n

And in the next instant, Hal was gone, leaving Joe alone, bound and bleeding, and wondering if he\u2019d just gone and made the stupidest decision of his life.
\n**********<\/p>\n

The view outside the windows had grown dark, and Ben\u2019s worry and irritation steadily increased as the last glimmers of winter sunlight disappeared behind the mountains. He stared, unseeing, at the meal Hop Sing had placed before him, scarcely aware of the subdued clink of cutlery against china as his older sons silently tucked into their roast beef and potatoes. It was only through concentrated effort that he managed to continue to push his own food back and forth across his plate.<\/p>\n

When the thrum of hooves stuttered into the yard outside, he slammed his napkin onto the table and leapt to his feet. Relief congealed into hard anger as he stormed through the front door. Ridiculous, that\u2019s what it was. When would the boy learn to stop being so inconsiderate? It had to stop. He\u2019d set Little Joe straight once and for all. He\u2019d\u2014<\/p>\n

But it wasn\u2019t Joe returning, looking typically sheepish or apologetic or feigning innocence; it was only the boy\u2019s horse loping into the yard, and Ben knew instantly that something was wrong, terribly wrong. His heart slammed into his throat, for Joe\u2019s coat lay across the saddle–not slung around the saddle horn, as was Joe’s habit, but neatly folded and tied across the saddle itself. It was a cruel, mocking gesture with one message only, and he instantly knew it for what it was: His boy had been taken, kidnapped\u2026Ben didn\u2019t even need to read the note protruding from the pocket to confirm it.<\/p>\n

He stretched out a tentative hand to remove the note from the pocket, closing cold, numb fingers over the paper. Pausing for a long moment in an effort to steady his breathing, he steeled himself for the words written there. Then, quickly, he moved to the lamplight and unfolded the slip of paper–and felt his knees start to buckle when the cryptic words struck him full force.
\nWe have your boy, Cartwright, and he’s cold.<\/p>\n

How long before he freezes to death?<\/p>\n

Adam was immediately at his side. “Pa? What is it?”<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t answer\u2014couldn\u2019t answer. Adam grasped his shoulder in a firm grip and then plucked the note from his suddenly trembling hands, grimly reading aloud the curt instructions for delivery of the ransom the following day. The demands were simple enough: five thousand dollars, noon tomorrow, no law, and Joe would be returned to them, safe and unharmed. But until then…<\/p>\n

Ben turned back to Cochise, gliding his hands along the pinto’s side until they came to rest on his son’s coat, and he gently released the garment from the leather ties. He fisted his hands in the soft, woolen material and lifted it to his face, inhaling deeply of the sweet musky scent that was so distinctly Joe. Ben closed his eyes, struggling hard to breathe around the sudden lump in his throat. He’d been so angry, so furious with the boy just minutes ago and now…now…<\/p>\n

Dear God, son…where are you?
\n**********<\/p>\n

The sounds of Hal\u2019s departure had long ago ceased. The silence of the snow-dusted forest settled about Joe, a heavy mantle of solitude. And still he lay motionless, not daring to open his eyes. He had to be sure Hal was truly gone. If he happened to return, Joe knew there\u2019d be no convincing him that he was dead the second time around, even half-drunk as the man was.<\/p>\n

He lay motionless up to a point, anyway. He could close his eyes and hold his breath, but he couldn\u2019t control his shivering. Away from the warmth of the fire and lying still on the patch of snow-covered ground, the cold had settled in quick; the icy wetness pierced clear through to his skin.<\/p>\n

At last he opened his eyes and looked around cautiously\u2026and let out a horrified gasp at the sight of the fist-sized spot of blood on his shirt. No, it couldn\u2019t\u2026it couldn\u2019t be this bad, he thought. He struggled to raise himself up, twisting his neck for a better view. It just couldn\u2019t\u2026it wasn\u2019t\u2026it wasn\u2019t even really hurting that much. Maybe he\u2019d just stuck himself good on a branch or landed on a sharp rock or something, or\u2014<\/p>\n

No, there it was\u2026a pea-sized hole in his shirt, high on his chest. He\u2019d been shot clear through. The awful realization of it set him to trembling in earnest, and nausea clawed its way into his throat.<\/p>\n

Panic quickened his breath. This was bad. Very, very bad.<\/p>\n

What am I gonna do, Pa?<\/p>\n

A sudden blast of frigid air swept over him then, stealing his breath and tearing his eyes. He turned his face from it as he struggled to calm himself and think. Pa wasn\u2019t here. There was no one who could help him or save him or tell him what he should do.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m not going to die here,\u201d he whispered. Not here, not like this, not tied up like an animal for his pa to find after the spring thaw. He squared his jaw and took a deep breath. He wasn\u2019t called the most stubborn Cartwright for nothing.<\/p>\n

For one wild moment, he considered running after Hal and surrendering. Surely he\u2019d have a better chance with the kidnappers than he would alone and wounded in the woods.<\/p>\n

No sooner had the idea passed through his mind than he abandoned it. Hal would probably reward him with another bullet, this time in the head.<\/p>\n

The trembling in his muscles was so violent it scared him. He managed to roll to his side and then clumsily push himself to his knees. Pausing to rest, panting, he lifted his head to survey his surroundings. Dismay hit him full in the gut, for he had no idea where he was; in his headlong escape through the forest, he\u2019d paid scant attention to which direction he was headed. He thought he might be able to get his bearings if he could find his way back to the campsite, but even if he managed to backtrack and find his way, heading toward the place where Hal had likely returned wasn\u2019t an option.<\/p>\n

Still, he had to move somewhere, anywhere. It took several awkward attempts to get to his feet; if he fell again, he wasn\u2018t sure he\u2018d be able to get back up. He realized his first priority had to be to somehow untie himself.<\/p>\n

His clothing, damp from the snow, offered little protection against the falling temperatures, and the wooden glade he stood in was dimming quickly with the passing of dusk. He didn\u2019t have much time. Squaring his jaw and ignoring the cold, Joe set off through the forest\u2026
\n**********<\/p>\n

Four shots, just over the next rise, one right after the other.<\/p>\n

Cameron Williams pulled his horse up and waited, but that was the end of it. No more sounds disturbed the quiet, other than Ivy\u2019s breathing and the creak of saddle leather as Cam shifted slightly. Blowing on his hands to warm them, Cam glanced toward the pass to the east that led to home and warmth, and then back toward the direction the shots had come from. He groaned inwardly. It would be so easy for him to ignore the sounds altogether, to pretend they were nothing more than rifle fire shot off by some random hunter with a deer in his sights. If he just stuck to his own business, his quiet, uncomplicated life could continue on as usual; his only concern that night would be Kima scolding him for being late to supper.<\/p>\n

But the very nature of the gunfire made it impossible for him to just let it go. The sounds hadn\u2019t been the hollow, booming echoes of a rifle; they had been the flatter, higher-pitched blasts of a six-gun. Of course, it wasn\u2019t unheard of or impossible for someone to use a sidearm to hunt with, especially if the hunter was going after squirrel or rabbit, and maybe that was exactly what the shooter was up to. Nor was it unheard of to hunt at night. But the fact was that the isolation of the area often served to attract a less than savory element, and that meant trouble. Sometimes bad trouble. And for someone to be hunting this late at night this high on the mountain with a storm on the way\u2026<\/p>\n

He urged his pony to the top of the rise and then paused for a long moment, biting his lip as he stared into the wooded horizon. To the east lay Kima and home. And to the west\u2014<\/p>\n

A horse and rider burst out of a stand of pines and tore out as if the devil himself were giving chase. Cam\u2019s gut instantly told him this was the shooter, and that the man sure hadn\u2019t been aiming at a rabbit. As quick as that, his decision was made for him\u2014but it sure wasn\u2019t the one he wanted to make.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn,\u201d he muttered. He should just turn toward the pass now. Kima was making stew tonight, and even now probably had her arms folded all angry-like, wondering what was keeping him. Still\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, Kima.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cam clicked to his pony, and headed west over the rise.
\n**********
\nJoe slogged through patches of snow and mud, his progress slow and clumsy despite his fierce determination to move forward. He wished he could blame his poor balance strictly on the fact that his hands were still bound tightly behind his back, but the truth was that his unsteadiness had a lot to do with the fact that he\u2019d been shot. He fought to stay on his feet, afraid that if he went down, he\u2019d stay down. It didn\u2019t matter that he had no idea which direction he should go, or even which direction he had come from, because to stay in place meant death.<\/p>\n

He knew that. So he concentrated on making it to the next tree, and then the next, and then the next.<\/p>\n

Pines in front of him. Pines behind him. Nothing but pines all around, as far as he could see, which wasn\u2019t far at all, given that the moon insisted on hiding its face behind a thick bank of clouds. The trees crowded in on him, tall and straight and disapproving, stern judges ready to pass sentence\u2014a death sentence. He found himself going over mistakes he\u2019d made, things he\u2019d done wrong, signs he\u2019d missed. If he\u2019d been smarter, faster, more alert, maybe\u2014<\/p>\n

He scowled up at the unyielding trees. They crowded out what scant light managed to reflect off the snow and smothered him in frigid darkness, giving neither mercy nor pity.<\/p>\n

A drooping pine branch snagged hard on his shirt collar; he staggered, rocked back, almost fell as the heels of his boots scrabbled for purchase. The jarring motion rattled his teeth and awoke the fire in his back and chest. He stood still, breath coming in harsh, noisy rasps, his legs trembling and his stomach roiling. He needed to rest, just for a minute. Just long enough to regain some strength.<\/p>\n

But he\u2019d grown up in these mountains; he\u2019d seen what happened to people who stopped to rest when they were caught out in the cold. When you stopped, you died, simple as that.
\nHe pushed on.<\/p>\n

Moonlight broke through the clouds overhead, casting a bluish glow upon the snow-covered landscape. At least he could see more than a few feet in front of him now. He tried to pick up his pace, but it was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other. The violent trembling that continued to rack his body had become a relentless, almost unbearable torture, making each trudging step slower and more painful than the last.<\/p>\n

Things were headed downhill in a heck of a hurry. He didn\u2019t have to be a genius to know that much.<\/p>\n

And then, suddenly, there were tracks in front of him. Boot prints in the snow. There was someone close! He could follow the tracks, find the person who made them, and he\u2019d get help. But\u2026what if it was one of the kidnappers who had made those tracks? He\u2019d walk right into a trap.<\/p>\n

He shook his head, his decision made. Kidnappers or not, he had to find someone to help him. He wasn\u2019t going to make it off this mountain alive otherwise. He set out, careful not to lose sight of the prints.<\/p>\n

There was no way to tell how long he\u2019d been walking when he realized the awful truth: he\u2019d been following his own trail, around and around in circles through the dark shadowy pines.<\/p>\n

He wanted to quit then, just sit in the snow and stop. He made himself take another step, though, and then another. He shut out the pain and kept moving, and he refused to look down to check how much he was bleeding. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.<\/p>\n

He stepped into a deeper drift of snow, staggered, and almost went down. Again he managed to catch himself. The trees swayed around him as he tried to regain his bearings. Where was Cochise? He needed Cochise. He needed to swing up on his pony and get home. He should\u2019ve been there hours ago. Pa was gonna be furious. Why was he out here anyway?<\/p>\n

Oh, yeah…the blasted kidnappers. And now he was shot. Too cold to be out\u2026 so darned cold\u2026.<\/p>\n

Had to keep moving. Had to find shelter, had to\u2026<\/p>\n

Only he wasn\u2019t moving. He was standing still, leaning against a pine, his cheek pressed into the rough bark. Not moving\u2026his dulled senses sharpened with a rush of fear. How long had he been standing still? How long?<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t know. Heaven help him, he had no idea.<\/p>\n

Shoving away from the tree, he wobbled forward a few steps–only to pull up short. Which way had he been heading? He whirled around to face in the opposite direction; it looked no more familiar. Snow flew into his eyes and into the open neck of his shirt, slipping down and stealing what little remained of his body heat. Which way, which way\u2026<\/p>\n

Focus, Joe. Concentrate.<\/p>\n

Okay. Okay, he had to think. There was something he had to do\u2026something important. His hands, that was it. He had to free himself from the ropes, or he\u2019d never be able to move as fast as he needed to in order to survive. He needed to find something sharp, some rocks, anything to help him saw through the ropes.<\/p>\n

There. Not twenty feet away, a low, hulking stand of boulders spreading a brooding, dark blanket over the snow. Stumbling over to the snow-draped rocks, he dropped to his knees and turned to his back to them. He stretched his arms out backward as best he could, sliding numbed fingers along the surface. Nothing. He shifted position and tried again, but found only smooth rock. Pushing his hands higher up the slope of the rock, he ignored the cramping in his arms from the awkward position. When the edge of his palm caught on a sharp protrusion of shale, he let out a choked sob of gratitude, allowing himself the first glimmer of hope in the midst of this cold, cold night.<\/p>\n

Only something was wrong. The thin edge of rock wasn\u2019t doing anything. He stretched his stiffened fingers up to feel the rope, and black despair hit him in the gut.<\/p>\n

The moisture in the rope had frozen solid; the fibers were bound together by ice, creating an impenetrable and rigid trap around his wrists. His hands had just been too cold to notice. It was going to take a lot more than the sharp edge of a rock to free him.<\/p>\n

His eyes began to tear in earnest, whether from the biting wind or from despair, he didn\u2019t know, nor did he any longer care. He\u2019d have to get up and keep moving with his hands tied as they were. Lingering here any longer would be a fatal mistake. He struggled onto his knees again, and then strained to get onto his feet\u2014and failed, instead collapsing face first into the snow.<\/p>\n

He caught his breath and rolled over onto his back. In that moment, he knew without a doubt that it was over.<\/p>\n

He was finished.<\/p>\n

The moon peered down at him from a ragged break in the clouds. Snow fell onto his face, into his hair, into his eyes. He blinked, trying to keep the moon\u2019s blurred shape in focus. Funny, he wasn\u2019t shivering so bad any more. In fact, he was warmer than he\u2019d been since he\u2019d woken up in the kidnappers\u2019 camp.<\/p>\n

He watched the moon and he wondered if his pa was looking for him. And then the clouds shifted and the moon abandoned him, leaving him alone in a soft, dark world of silently falling snow.<\/p>\n

Pulling himself over onto his side, he drew his legs up tight to his body in a vain attempt to gain warmth. \u201cIt\u2019s bad, Pa,\u201d he whispered. \u201cIt\u2019s really, really bad.\u201d
\n**********
\nCam could clearly hear Kima\u2019s voice in his head, telling him what a fool he was. As usual, she was right. He was a fool. She\u2019d told him he\u2019d had no business going out hunting when the sky clearly threatened snow, but he\u2019d argued that if the next storm came in as heavy as they expected, they needed to lay in some extra meat. She\u2019d argued with him right up until he left, shoving a lantern into his hand at the last minute and saying if he was going to be a fool, there was no need to be a blind one.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d gotten what he\u2019d gone after, at least; the field-dressed carcass of a young buck was tied securely behind his saddle. No matter how much snow came during the next few days, at least they wouldn\u2019t be hungry. If he had any sense at all he\u2019d head his horse in the direction of home, where he could sit in warmth and watch Kima finish dressing the deer while she chastised him.<\/p>\n

Just as Kima had insisted this morning, though, he had no sense, for he nudged Ivy further down the trail, still seeking the source of those gunshots. The wind picked up, and the snow turned into icy pellets that made him squint into the darkness as he hunched deeper into his coat. Ivy laid her ears back and stopped.<\/p>\n

\u201cGo on, girl.\u201d He nudged the heels of his boots into her flanks, and though she gave a disapproving snort, she reluctantly moved forward, picking her way through the snow for perhaps twenty yards before she stopped again. This time it took him several firm kicks to persuade her to continue. She did, but moved even more slowly than before, gingerly raising each hoof and setting it down with deliberate caution, her ears laid back flat against her head to show her displeasure.<\/p>\n

Yes, there was no doubt about it: he was all kinds of a fool. Even his horse was smart enough to know when it was time to call off the hunt. Just to the edge of that tree line, he promised himself, eyeing the dim outline of another stretch of woods. He\u2019d go that far and no further. He\u2019d have to get\u2014<\/p>\n

He lurched hard in the saddle as Ivy slipped, scrabbled hooves on ice to get her footing, slipped again. Just as Cam was convinced they were both going down, she lunged into the more powdery snow ahead and stood there, sides heaving, legs trembling in fear and exertion.<\/p>\n

Okay, enough was enough. Whatever those shots had been about, it wasn\u2019t enough to keep him out on this mountainside any longer. He gave Ivy her head, and she eagerly turned and headed back in the direction of home, moving as quickly as the slick terrain would allow.<\/p>\n

And then he saw it. A crumpled form in the shadow of a short stand of boulders, already partially covered in snow.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the\u2026?\u201d Cam narrowed his eyes, trying to make out what the thing was, but the watery moon passed behind a bank of clouds once again. \u201cWhoa, Ivy.\u201d He dismounted, untied the small lantern from the saddle and quickly lit it. Tugging the disgruntled mare along behind him, he pushed through the deepening snow to the pile of boulders.<\/p>\n

A soft curse brushed past his teeth as he held the lantern higher to reveal a man\u2019s body, curled in upon itself, its back against the rocks, dark stains on the front of his shirt and dotting the snow. He held on doggedly to the possibility that he\u2019d stumbled onto the results of a hunting accident. Perhaps the first three shots had been at a running animal, and the fourth had somehow gone wrong. Maybe the rider he\u2019d seen exploding from the cover of the underbrush had been charging after escaping game, and hadn\u2019t even realized one of his shots had hit the wrong target. It was a common enough occurrence. He probably was butchering his kill, and would no doubt turn back to find his partner once he finished.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust a kid,\u201d Cam muttered, shaking his head. Damn shame.<\/p>\n

For a moment, he considered leaving the body where he\u2019d found it and heading for home, but quickly discarded the idea. He\u2019d have to carry the boy\u2019s body on home with him. Maybe his companion really would be coming back for him, but Cam couldn\u2019t stand around waiting to find out, not with the weather worsening as it was. Unguarded, it was possible wolves would get at the poor kid, so he couldn\u2019t just be left to lie here. And if the other man didn\u2019t show up later, Cam would have to go down to Virginia City himself and let the sheriff know so that the next of kin could be notified.<\/p>\n

A twinge of regret passed through him for the buck he\u2019d have to leave behind, for Ivy couldn\u2019t carry all three of them. He rolled the body over a bit further in order to get a good hold, and froze. Thoughts of a hunting accident collapsed like tinkling ice. There was no longer any doubt that this had been no accident.<\/p>\n

The boy\u2019s hands were tied behind his back.<\/p>\n

Cam jerked back and stood quickly. His hand went to the rifle in its scabbard as he hurriedly scanned the dark woods around him, but he saw no movement other than snowflakes swirling down from the sky. Ivy swiveled her ears toward him and then lowered her head to snort suspiciously at the body on the ground.<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing out there, then, girl?\u201d Cam murmured, and the violent hammering of his heart eased somewhat. Apparently whoever had killed this poor kid was long gone. Ivy would know if anyone was out there watching. The man he\u2019d seen riding so fast down the mountain wasn\u2019t anywhere around.<\/p>\n

The mare pushed her muzzle closer to the boy\u2019s white face and snorted again, her breath fluttering his hair and blowing some of the snow free.<\/p>\n

And the boy groaned.<\/p>\n

Cam started, and then cursed again, a long, steady stream of expletives as he whipped his hunting knife from its sheath and dropped to his knees. Hurriedly, he rolled the kid over again to get at his back\u2014and in his haste, his cold, stiff fingers lost their grip on the knife. He grabbed wildly at it, but it tumbled away, hit a rock, and bounced into the shallow ravine to the right of the nest of boulders before disappearing into the dimly lit snow.<\/p>\n

Cam stared at the spot where the knife had disappeared, thought briefly of taking the time to try to recover it, and then shook his head. He might be able to eventually find the knife, but it would take too long. The kid was knocking at death\u2019s door. If he wasn\u2019t warmed up soon, he\u2019d have no chance at all.<\/p>\n

And so it was that the buck that was to have fed him and Kima so well through the next week was dumped unceremoniously onto the snow. Cam wrapped the kid in the rolled up blanket he kept tied behind his cantle before draping him as gently as he could manage across the saddle. He climbed up behind, pulled the boy up against him, and gouged Ivy hard in the flanks.<\/p>\n

Much later, when the lights from his cabin glimmered into view, he shouted for Kima, though he hadn\u2019t needed to. As was often the case, his wife seemed to have a sense about such things; he wasn\u2019t even surprised to see her hurrying through the snow to help him the moment he\u2019d reined in his horse. She asked no questions, but only paused once they were inside to examine the blanket-wrapped burden her husband had carried through the door. Gently pushing aside the material covering his face, she inhaled sharply.<\/p>\n

\u201cGod, Cam. He\u2019s just a boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cam simply nodded and proceeded quickly to the back of the cabin to lay the young man on the bed, and together they removed the snow-flecked blanket.<\/p>\n

Kima frowned up at him. \u201cHis hands, Cam. Why are they\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomeone tied him. The same good-for-nothing who shot him, I would guess. I lost my knife in the snow before I could cut him free.\u201d He felt the ropes binding the boy\u2019s wrists together and grimaced. \u201cThe hemp is frozen so hard I\u2019d likely have had a heck of a time cutting through it anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kima scowled at him. \u201cWell, don\u2019t just stand there,\u201d she snapped. \u201cFetch that tea water from the stove so we can thaw the rope. And stoke up that fire real good so we can warm this boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cam smiled to himself as he jumped to do her bidding, thanking divine providence that the woman he married wasn\u2019t the hand-wringing type. She immediately took charge, just as he\u2019d known she would.<\/p>\n

They quickly succeeded in cutting through the ropes. Once free, the boy\u2019s arms fell limply to his sides. Through it all, he never stirred; his breathing remained shallow and uneven as Kima set about restoring warmth and life to his nearly frozen body. As she bustled around, she gave Cam orders to briskly rub his wrists, his hands, his feet, his legs.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s lucky you found him when you did,\u201d Kima murmured as she unbuttoned the boy\u2019s damp shirt, making small, distressed sounds at the amount of blood staining the fabric.<\/p>\n

Cam sighed, chafing the kid\u2019s feet between his palms. More than lucky, he thought grimly. It was damn near miraculous. Had he not been hunting on that treacherous slope to begin with, had Ivy not slipped when she had, had he not decided to turn her at that precise point on the trail\u2026<\/p>\n

He raised his eyes to the kid\u2019s stone-still face. Come on, kid, he thought. You gotta do your part.<\/p>\n

**********
\nPa!<\/p>\n

The unspoken plea screamed in Joe’s head, but Joe couldn’t seem to summon the strength to call it aloud.<\/p>\n

Where am I?<\/p>\n

He was in a bed that wasn’t his own, that much he could tell through his muddled thinking. And he hurt. God, he hurt.<\/p>\n

“Is he waking up at all?”<\/p>\n

A strange voice. A man’s voice, a voice he did not recognize. Someone in on the kidnappers\u2019 plan? Had they found him? Had he tried so hard for nothing, then? His heartbeat quickened as fear and dismay rose up inside him.<\/p>\n

“No,” came a woman’s voice then. “He’s still the same.”<\/p>\n

A soft hand glided gently along his face, its touch cool and feather-light. A woman’s hand. A soothing hand. He turned his cheek into it, and his wildly stammering heart slowed and settled. A damp cloth pressed against his forehead, bringing relief to his hot skin. Hot? How could he be hot? He\u2019d been so cold for so long\u2026<\/p>\n

The cloth pressed again, and the woman gave a low murmur of distress. “His fever is back, Cam,” she said softly. “I just don’t know if I can get it down.”<\/p>\n

“Someone’s gotta be out looking for him,” the man replied. “Maybe I should ride into town and ask around\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

“You’ll never make it through that storm.”<\/p>\n

“I know, I know. You’re right,” the man sighed. “I just wish we knew who he was.”<\/p>\n

Joe\u2026Joe Cartwright\u2026please get my pa.<\/p>\n

Joe longed to answer them, to plead with them, but he could already feel his dwindling awareness beginning to evaporate. Still, he tried once more to summon the strength to speak.<\/p>\n

Please\u2026<\/p>\n

“Cam…you think…Look! You think he’s trying to say something?”<\/p>\n

Please get my pa.<\/p>\n

“I don’t think so. It\u2019s the fever. Must be your imagination, darling.”<\/p>\n

Spent and frustrated, Joe sank back into oblivion….
\n**********
\nA swirl of icy pellets skittered across the porch, chased by a brutally cold wind that sought him out and taunted him with a low, moaning voice. It was the kind of weather that could turn deadly if a man let his attention be drawn away from its lethal power for a moment too long\u2014and his boy was out in it.<\/p>\n

Beneath the relative shelter of the porch, Ben shivered as he stared out into the darkness. His sons were worried about him. He knew that, but he couldn\u2019t abide the forced attempts at normalcy. More than that, he couldn\u2019t bear to choke down another meal when he wasn\u2018t hungry, couldn\u2018t face another sleepless night knowing that Little Joe was somewhere out there, maybe scared, maybe hurt.<\/p>\n

Maybe worse.<\/p>\n

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the note, now limp and lined with numerous foldings and refoldings. He read it for what had to be the hundredth time, even though he could recite it word for word even in his sleep\u2014which, indeed, he had.<\/p>\n

How long before he freezes to death?<\/p>\n

He wanted to rip the thing into tiny pieces and throw it out into the wind, wanted to see it disappear into the snow as if it had never existed. Instead, he carefully folded it up once more and tucked it away. Through the window at his back he could hear the low rumble of his sons\u2019 voices as they talked. He could only make out a word every now and then, but it was enough. Soft words, anxious words. Words about plans and options and search parties. Words about him and his state of mind.<\/p>\n

Words about their brother and his chances.<\/p>\n

How long before he freezes to death?<\/p>\n

Ben drew Joe\u2019s woolen coat closer to his chest, stroking the heavy garment as tenderly as if it were the boy himself, remembering when he\u2019d last seen him.<\/p>\n

The boy hadn\u2019t even wanted to wear it, having already reached for his lighter weight gray jacket as he was preparing to leave that morning. But Ben had insisted on it, much to his son\u2019s annoyance.<\/p>\n

\u201cAw, come on, Pa!\u201d Joe had complained. \u201cIt\u2019s not even cold out!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps not now, but it certainly will be later, young man,\u201d Ben had replied, barely glancing up from his newspaper.<\/p>\n

Joe had blown out an exaggerated sigh as he snatched the blue plaid coat from its hook, grumbling as he slipped into it. \u201cPa, I can\u2019t even get to my gun with this horse blanket in the way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I\u2019m sure you\u2019ll be just fine, son.\u201d<\/p>\n

But he hadn\u2019t been fine. Ben\u2019s hands fisted against the urge to rage against the sheer unfairness of it all.<\/p>\n

They\u2019d done everything, after all, everything they were supposed to do, from the moment Cochise had loped into the yard that night. Ben had followed the ransom note\u2019s instructions to the letter. As directed, they\u2019d assembled five thousand dollars into a plain cloth bag and had placed it at the base of a double-trunked oak just outside the ranch boundaries the following morning. And then, they\u2019d waited. And waited. Hours had passed, a virtual eternity. But the day had stretched into night, and the night into morning. As a cold dawn spread its weak light across the mountainside, the bag of money was still there, untouched beneath a growing blanket of snow, and Joe was still missing.<\/p>\n

That had been two days ago.<\/p>\n

No other word had come. No other signs, no other instructions, no other clues. All they had was the note and the boy\u2019s blue woolen coat. Ben had kept it near at hand since Joe\u2019s disappearance, fully aware of the furtive, anxious glances Adam and Hoss kept sending his way but purposely ignoring them. The thought that a kidnapper had deliberately ripped the garment from his son\u2019s body solely to make the boy suffer had kept Ben awake late into the night, tormenting him with images of Joe\u2019s body, stiff and frozen in the snow, his face white and lifeless\u2014<\/p>\n

Ben shuddered and choked, forcing the vision out of his head before it drove him to his knees.<\/p>\n

How long before he freezes to death?<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d came Adam\u2019s voice from behind him.<\/p>\n

He swallowed, pulled in a breath, and tried to sound strong. \u201cYes. Right here, son.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s pretty cold out here.\u201d Adam moved to stand beside him. \u201cYou want your coat?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben sighed heavily but didn\u2019t respond.<\/p>\n

Adam cleared his throat. \u201cPa, we didn\u2019t have a choice. The weather was getting too bad.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben shook his head, his vehement retort harsh and curt. \u201cNo. No, we could have given it another hour. We could have\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, we couldn\u2019t. The wind was getting too strong. It\u2019s better to wait until daylight when it\u2019s\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Anger flooded through him. \u201cIt might be too late by daylight!\u201d he snapped. \u201cJoe could be\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s hand rose to grasp his father\u2019s shoulder. \u201cI know, Pa. I know,\u201d he said softly, and his eyes dropped to the coat Ben still clutched in his arms. \u201cWe\u2019re doing everything we can.\u201d He tipped his head toward the door. \u201cCome on inside, Pa. It\u2019s cold out here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam hesitated, started to say something, and then seemed to think better of it. He nodded, gave Ben\u2019s arm a final squeeze, and then went quietly into the house.<\/p>\n

Ben stood in place, shutting his eyes against the sight of the icy world around him, knowing the long hours until first light, when they could set out again, would seem an eternity.<\/p>\n

They had spent the entire day on the road to Virginia City, following the path Joe had ridden the day he had disappeared, trying to determine where and when he had been overtaken, but the new fallen snow had effectively erased all traces of the boy\u2019s passing, save for one.<\/p>\n

Even if they hadn\u2019t been looking, it would still have been a miracle that they had happened upon it at all. Even from a few feet away, it could easily have been dismissed as a rock or leaf or something else inconsequential. But Hoss had hollered and flung himself from his horse with an agility that belied his size, and had plucked it from the ground, where it had been almost completely buried beneath the drifts. Ben and Adam had stared at him, bewildered, until he shook the snow from it and held it up.<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s hat.
\n**********
\nThe tin cup that had been sitting on the small table beside the bed hit the wall with a sharp ping, sending a spray of water onto the floor and shooting Cam to his feet.<\/p>\n

Kima uttered a cry of alarm and ran to the boy. She tried to hold his wildly thrashing arms still, but had little success.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d he screamed. \u201cNo! Let me go!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s going to throw himself to the floor,\u2019\u201d Cam said brusquely, even as he took Kima by the shoulders and moved her out of the way. Quickly, he caught hold of the kid\u2019s flailing arms and pushed him firmly back down on the bed. Kima was immediately back at the boy\u2019s side, gently stroking the sweat-dampened face and murmuring softly to him.<\/p>\n

He calmed at her voice, and then for a brief moment, Cam saw lucidity return to the boy\u2019s eyes. He stared up at Kima as they both panted for breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d she asked him, her voice low and gentle.<\/p>\n

His brows knit together for a long moment, as if deciding whether to answer. \u201cJoe,\u201d he answered. \u201cI\u2019m Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

She opened her mouth to ask more, but his eyes clouded again, and he began to tremble violently.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s\u2026 so cold,\u201d he said, his voice shaking.<\/p>\n

Kima tucked the blankets snugly around him and smiled reassuringly. \u201cWell, Cam and I are going to keep you warm now, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

The boy\u2019s breathing was becoming more steady and regular, but just as his eyes began to close, he lifted his head slightly as if to say something more.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Kima\u2019s hair fell over his face as she leaned in close to hear his urgent whisper. As the boy fell back into an exhausted sleep, Kima slowly straightened, her hand over her mouth. Cam caught the shine of tears in her eyes as she turned to look at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Cam asked. \u201cWhat did he say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said\u2026he said\u2026they took his coat.\u201d
\n**********
\nGrimly, Cam jerked the leather strap upwards, tightening the cinch around Ivy\u2019s belly. \u201cI don\u2019t like leaving you up here alone,\u201d he said, taking a packed saddle bag from Kima\u2019s hands.<\/p>\n

His wife smiled at him. \u201cDon\u2019t be silly. You leave me here alone often enough. I\u2019m used to it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cam didn\u2019t smile back. \u201cThat\u2019s not what I mean, and you know it. The man who did that to that poor kid…we don\u2019t know if he\u2019s still around. He might be waiting\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Kima put a finger against his lips. \u201cHush, now. We\u2019ve talked about this. That boy needs a doctor. If he doesn\u2019t get one soon, I\u2019m afraid he may not make it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re as good as any doctor,\u201d Cam said gruffly, and she laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are very biased,\u201d she teased, and then sobered. \u201cHis fever\u2026I can\u2019t seem to get it down. He hasn\u2019t woken once in the time he\u2019s been here, not truly. I don\u2019t want his death on my conscience, Cam. He needs a doctor now. It can\u2019t wait. Besides, you know the sheriff needs to know about what\u2019s happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cam sighed and nodded, and turned to strap the saddle bag onto the saddle. \u201cI\u2019ll hurry. If the sheriff isn\u2019t out on some call, I should be able to make it back here before nightfall.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be waiting.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wrapping his arms around his wife\u2019s slim waist, Cam pulled her close and pressed his mouth against hers. A long moment later, he pulled away. \u201cStay inside until I get back. I brought in extra water last night, and there\u2019s enough wood stacked next to the fireplace to last for two or three days, at least.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want me to be a prisoner in my own home?\u201d She grinned at him.<\/p>\n

But Cam\u2019s belly was cold inside from something he couldn\u2019t name. \u201cDon\u2019t tease me, Kima,\u201d he said seriously, and kissed her again. \u201cStay inside,\u201d he repeated, and then swung up on Ivy\u2019s back.<\/p>\n

He heard the sound of her humming as he rode out.
\n**********
\nIt was the size of the big man that first caught Cam\u2019s attention; he stood a full head taller than the small group of cowboys clustered in front of the Bucket of Blood. Cam hitched his horse nearby and couldn\u2019t help but hear the conversation as he drew closer, and he hung back to listen.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026been missing for coming up to four days now, Bill,\u201d the big man was saying. \u201cI just got done talking to Sheriff Coffee about getting a search party together. We\u2019re gonna meet up here in about half an hour\u2026 Anyone else you can get to help us would be\u2026well, anyone you can get.\u201d<\/p>\n

The group of men knotted around him was somber. A couple of them reached out to give his wide shoulders a kindly pat, and sympathetic murmurs rippled through the air.<\/p>\n

\u201cReal sad to hear about your brother, Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, too bad about Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll be there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAppreciate it,\u201d the big man said tiredly, rubbing a hand over exhausted-looking eyes. \u201cMy pa and Adam do, too.\u201d He offered them a brief smile of gratitude, but as the men turned to head back into the saloon, his smile disappeared and his shoulders drooped. His entire body, huge and forbidding only a moment before, now looked worn and wilted as he shoved his hands in his pockets and proceeded down the street toward the sheriff\u2019s office. It was more than tiredness that caused him to look like that, Cam thought. This man was grieving.<\/p>\n

There was no reason to let him go through any more misery than he already had. Cam hurried up behind him and reached up to tap him on the shoulder. \u201cExcuse me?\u201d<\/p>\n

The man turned and frowned at him. \u201cCan I help you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour brother, the one who\u2019s missing? He\u2019s about fifteen, sixteen? His name is Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe\u2019s seventeen.\u201d Hoss eyed him warily.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you see, I have him,\u201d Cam explained. \u201cHe\u2019s\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

His words were cut off by the big man\u2019s fearsome roar. Cam was abruptly jerked off his feet and slammed hard against a brick wall. In the next instant he found himself staring into blazing blue eyes so full of wrath that he almost stopped breathing.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere is he?\u201d the man growled, his voice low and fierce as he shoved Cam again for emphasis. \u201cSo help me, mister, if you\u2019ve hurt that boy, I swear\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Cam swallowed hard as ham-like fists twisted tightly into his collar, feeling for all the world as if he\u2019d been caught in the grip of an enraged grizzly. \u201cNo\u2026I didn\u2019t\u2026I swear\u2026I didn\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss! Hoss! Come on, now!\u201d came a stern voice from Cam\u2019s left, and an older man suddenly appeared, grabbing hold of the big man\u2019s arms. Cam almost wilted in relief as he noted the tin badge gleaming on the man\u2019s vest. The iron grip didn\u2019t lessen one bit, but at least Cam wasn\u2019t in danger of imminent death. This wasn\u2019t going well at all.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow what\u2019s this all about?\u201d the sheriff asked, eyeing Cam suspiciously.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll tell ya what it\u2019s about, Roy,\u201d the man answered, shaking Cam hard enough to knock his head against the wall. \u201cThis here\u2019s the feller who kidnapped Little Joe!\u201d<\/p>\n

Cam blinked his vision back into focus. Had he heard right? Kidnapped. Kidnapped?<\/p>\n

\u201cKidnapped?\u201d he stammered, and began to struggle in earnest against the bear\u2019s grip. \u201cI didn\u2019t\u2026kidnap\u2026anybody.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet him go, Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss relaxed his grip but still kept a rock-hard hand on Cam\u2019s shoulder. Cam straightened indignantly, and noticed in dismay that several saloon patrons had gathered, apparently to witness his humiliation. He sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t kidnap anybody,\u201d he said again. \u201cI found the boy almost frozen to death three days ago up on the western slope of Mount Rose. My wife and I have a cabin not far from there.\u201d<\/p>\n

The big man stared at him. \u201cMister, what are you saying? You found Joe? Why didn\u2019t you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Cam narrowed his eyes and the man named Hoss had the grace to look embarrassed.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d he mumbled, and then smiled broadly. He dropped his hand from Cam\u2019s shoulder and instead grabbed his hand in a fierce handshake. \u201cI can\u2019t tell you how much we\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s something else you need to know,\u201d Cam interrupted him hurriedly. He hated to deliver the rest of the news, but there was no help for it. \u201cHe\u2019s hurt, and pretty badly, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss dropped his hand. For a brief instant he shut his eyes and then nodded, obviously bracing himself for the worst. \u201cTell me,\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n

Cam didn\u2019t mince words. \u201cHe\u2019d been shot. My guess is he probably would\u2019ve died out on the mountain from blood loss, except that the cold slowed down the bleeding.\u201d<\/p>\n

The big man paled. A slow, heavy breath went out of him. \u201cBut\u2026but he\u2019s\u2026Joe\u2019s alive. That\u2019s what you\u2019re telling me, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Cam nodded. \u201cHe was when I left to come down here to get a doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s alive!\u201d the man repeated, and a slow grin spread across his face. \u201cPa! I gotta tell Pa and Adam and\u2026where are my manners?\u201d<\/p>\n

Once again he caught up Cam\u2019s hand in his own hefty grasp and shook it heartily. \u201cHoss. Hoss Cartwright. And that rascally brother of mine you rescued is Little Joe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh\u2026Cameron Williams.\u201d Cam tried not to wince as Joe\u2019s brother squeezed his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Mr. Williams, I gotta run and fetch my pa and brother and tell them the news. They\u2019re out near Gold Hill getting together another search party. Guess we ain\u2019t gonna need that now, Roy, huh? Do you mind waiting just a little bit \u2018afore heading out, Mr. Williams?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2026no, I suppose not.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss nodded. \u201cIt\u2019s all settled then. I\u2019ll send someone for the doc and we can all head out in about an hour. Roy here\u2019s gonna want to come with us, ain\u2019t ya?\u201d<\/p>\n

The sheriff nodded. \u201cDon\u2019t know how much luck we\u2019ll have picking up the kidnapper\u2019s trail with all the snow we got the other night, but we gotta start somewhere. Mr. Williams, why don\u2019t you step on over to my office while Hoss is rounding up his pa and brother? We\u2019ll have some coffee and talk for a bit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright, coffee sounds good,\u201d Cam agreed amiably, though after the scene that had just ensued, he would\u2019ve preferred something a mite stronger than coffee. Experimentally, he opened and closed the hand Hoss had shaken so enthusiastically, and found himself more than a little relieved that he hadn\u2019t had to deliver worse news to the man.<\/p>\n

Absently, he watched a couple of cowboys mount their horses and ride out, and he frowned as the saloon patrons filed back in through the saloon doors, the entertainment over.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d done what he\u2019d set out to do that morning\u2026he\u2019d found the help for the sick boy in his home and had alerted the sheriff and had even been lucky enough to run into someone from the boy\u2019s family.<\/p>\n

Why, then, couldn\u2019t he shake the feeling that something was terribly, jarringly wrong?
\n**********
\nThe smell of food drifted into his room. Hop Sing had breakfast ready, which meant he had overslept. Again. Joe sighed, wriggling a little deeper under the blankets, soaking up the warmth for a minute longer before he had to face the cold morning. Only\u2026the distinct sound of pine knots popped in a fire; light snapping and rustling signaled logs jostling one another as they settled into place. Joe\u2019s nose twitched; sure enough, mingled with the cooking smells were the scents of spent ash and burning pine. Gosh, somebody had been nice enough to stoke up the fire in his room. Comforting as it was, the fire made no sense; if Joe wanted to take the edge off the chill in his room by getting a fire going, he was the one who would have to get it done. Hop Sing hadn\u2019t pampered him in that particular way since he was eight.
\nUnless he was sick. But he wasn\u2019t sick\u2026was he? He tried to open his eyes to look, but his lids were so heavy they wouldn\u2019t cooperate. A spoon clinked energetically around an iron pot, and a woman\u2019s soft humming filled his ears. Heavy-lidded or not, his eyes flew open.<\/p>\n

Not his room. Definitely not his room. And yeah, he was sick.<\/p>\n

He struggled to sit up, and pain shot through him. And in that instant, he remembered it all, right up until the point where he\u2019d collapsed in the snow and hadn\u2019t been able to get up again. He fell back, not realizing he\u2019d groaned out loud until the woman dropped her spoon and whirled around to stare at him in surprise. Once more he forced himself up into a sitting position, and the woman shook her head and bustled to his side.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, aka\u2019bi waahni\u2019, you do yourself no favors by pushing so soon,\u201d she said, urging him back against the pillow with gentle hands. \u201cYou must stay still.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was frightening that he really had no choice but to do as she suggested, because even that small effort had left him shaking and weak. He knew he was bad off. How bad? He looked down at the bandages swathing his bare chest, and then back up at the woman.<\/p>\n

She nodded somberly. \u201cYou\u2019ve been badly hurt,\u201d she said. \u201cFor a long time we weren\u2019t sure you would wake up.\u201d<\/p>\n

For a long time\u2026 How long had he been here? Another rush of anxiety hit him, and he shot his hand out to grip her sleeve.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy pa,\u201d he croaked. \u201cDoes he know I\u2019m here?\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman\u2019s fine brows knit together. \u201cWho is your pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBen Cartwright,\u201d Joe rasped out. \u201cBen Cartwright of the Ponderosa. Please, you\u2019ve got to get word to him\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

She shushed him, and took his clutching hand in a reassuring grip. \u201cEasy, aka\u2019bi waahni\u2019. My husband has gone down the mountain to Virginia City to talk to the sheriff about you. They will locate your people.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stared at her for a moment, and then, deciding she was sincere, he relaxed against the pillows. Relief flooded through him and his eyes slipped shut again. His pa was coming for him. He was going to make it. His pa was coming\u2026<\/p>\n

He was drifting back under the warm mantle of sleep again, but he was curious.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2026akabey wawney word you called me…what is that?\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n

She laughed, a warm, tinkling sound. He opened his eyes far enough to see her kind smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cAka\u2019bi waahni\u2019,\u201d she said. \u201cIt is Shoshoni for snow fox. We don\u2019t know how you managed to escape from those who tied and shot you, but you did it. You are crafty, like a fox.\u201d<\/p>\n

He grinned back at her, and shook his head. \u201cNot crafty,\u201d he mumbled, shutting his eyes once more. \u201cJust stubborn. Just ask my pa when he gets here. He\u2019ll tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n

He fell asleep to the comforting sound of her soft laughter.
\n**********<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t sure how much time had passed when she woke him again.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou must eat,\u201d she told him. \u201cYou won\u2019t get your strength back if we don\u2019t get something into your stomach.\u201d She helped him sit up, using extra pillows to support him before bringing a bowl to him. His stomach growled as he caught the scent of the liquid she spooned up, and she laughed. \u201cI do believe you will make it after all, Joe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

He grinned, and then opened his mouth, letting her feed him. \u201cIt\u2019s delicious,\u201d he sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s just rabbit stew,\u201d she shrugged. \u201cWe would have had venison, but Cam had to leave the deer he\u2014\u201d She broke off and shrugged again. \u201cCam will have to go hunting again when he gets back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe slowly chewed a small bite of meat, savoring the taste. He was suddenly ravenous, but knew he\u2019d better go easy for his stomach\u2019s sake. \u201cCam?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

She nodded, and fed him another spoonful of soup. \u201cMy husband.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s headed to Virginia City to let my pa know about me,\u201d Joe said, not entirely sure if this was true or if he\u2019d just dreamed it.<\/p>\n

But the lady nodded and smiled. \u201cThat\u2019s right. I wasn\u2019t sure would remember.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember. Your husband\u2026he\u2019s the one who brought me here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Kima confirmed, and got two more spoonfuls of fragrant broth into his mouth before she continued. \u201cHe found you lying out in the snow, practically frozen stiff. It almost killed you, but you were lucky it was so cold out there.\u201d<\/p>\n

Confused, Joe raised a brow. \u201cLucky? It sure didn\u2019t feel lucky at the time.\u201d<\/p>\n

She chuckled. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t suppose it did.\u201d She shrugged. \u201cWhen someone is very cold, bleeding slows. On a warmer day, you might not have lasted long enough for someone to find you.\u201d She cocked her head, studying him. \u201cDo you remember who shot you? You talked in your sleep a little, but not enough for us to get a description before Cam left. He won\u2019t be able to tell the sheriff much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember,\u201d Joe said, his voice hardening with the thought of the two men who had ambushed him. \u201cAnd I\u2019m going to enjoy running them down when I get back on my feet.\u201d
\nShe snorted and waited for him to open his mouth for more stew. \u201cThat won\u2019t be for awhile yet. I\u2019m afraid you\u2019ll have to rely on the law to gain your justice for you. You\u2019re going to be much too busy healing.\u201d She brushed a stubborn curl up away from his eyes before offering another bite. \u201cWhat happened to you out there?\u201d she asked, her voice very, very quiet.<\/p>\n

He stopped chewing. For a moment she didn\u2019t think he would answer. Finally, he cleared his throat. \u201cA couple of hombres jumped me on my way to town,\u201d he said. \u201cThey knocked me cold and carried me off. Sent my pa a ransom note and took my coat to go along with it.\u201d His voice was rough with anger.<\/p>\n

\u201cA ransom\u2014they kidnapped you for money, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded, staring at the bowl in her hands. \u201cOne of them, Hal, stayed in camp with me while the other one delivered the message. I saw my chance and took off running, but\u2014well, it didn\u2019t work. Hal chased me down\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026and shot you,\u201d she finished for him when his voice drifted off.<\/p>\n

Joe sighed. \u201cYeah. He thought I was dead, and he took off. I wandered around in the snow for awhile, and the next thing I know\u2014\u201d he shrugged slightly, \u201c\u2014I woke up here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m very glad you\u2019re awake. Has anyone ever told you, Joe, that you are a very noisy sleeper?\u201d she asked teasingly, and urged more soup on him, obviously wanting to shake him out of his somber mood.<\/p>\n

She did a good job of doing just that. He studied her, taking in her deep-set, ebony eyes and sleek, dark hair. \u201cYou\u2019re really pretty,\u201d he almost said, but thought better of it, since she was a married woman and all. Instead, he said, \u201cYou know my name, but you haven\u2019t told me yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Williams,\u201d she told him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your first name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is impertinent to ask a woman her first name, particularly a married woman,\u201d she said teasingly.<\/p>\n

Joe grinned and nodded. \u201cYeah, I know. But I\u2019m asking anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

She raised an eyebrow. \u201cDue to your injury, I\u2019ll excuse your bad behavior,\u201d she said, smiling. \u201cIt\u2019s Kima. And yes, before you ask, it\u2019s an Indian name. Shoshone.\u201d There was a slightly defiant tone in her voice, though nothing showed in her expression.<\/p>\n

\u201cKima,\u201d Joe repeated. \u201cI like it.\u201d His grin widened, and he decided he didn\u2019t care what compliments were appropriate for married women. \u201cIt\u2019s a beautiful name. Fits you just right. Your husband is a very lucky man, Kima.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you, Mr. Cartwright, are a bit of a flirt,\u201d she said briskly.<\/p>\n

\u201cA lot of one, ma\u2019am,\u201d he admitted, and they both laughed. Then Joe sobered. \u201cSeriously, I can\u2019t thank you and your husband enough for what you\u2019ve done for me. I\u2019d have died out there without your help.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can thank me by finishing all this stew,\u201d she said, and put her hand on his forehead. She frowned and shook her head. \u201cYour fever is lower, but it\u2019s still there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMust be why just eating is wearing me out,\u201d he sighed, and put his hand up to stop her from giving him any more stew. \u201cI can\u2019t hold any more. Really. I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

They both heard it\u2014rather than any real identifiable sound, it was a sudden interruption of silence in the woods outside. Kima looked toward the door, alarm in her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cA horse mouthing a bit,\u201d Joe said softly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Kima agreed, and Joe saw fear wash across her face.<\/p>\n

Cold dread began to trickle into Joe\u2019s belly. \u201cCould it be your husband?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I can\u2019t imagine that he would have had time to get down to Virginia City and back again. He had the sheriff to talk to, and the doctor to fetch\u2026\u201d She shook her head and moved to the cabin\u2019s one window, lifting the edge of one of the blue curtains to peer outside.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne of your neighbors, maybe?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe nearest neighbor lives twenty miles on the other side of the ridge. He wouldn\u2019t be coming across all this snow just to visit, believe me.\u201d She dropped the curtain and turned to stare at him, and he watched dread rise up within her. \u201cWhoever it is, they aren\u2019t approaching the cabin. They must be waiting just outside the clearing, off in the trees.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me you have a gun in the house,\u201d he said quietly.
\n**********
\nBen snapped the reins irritably as he urged Buck through a particularly rough section of the narrow trail. Over an hour into the trip and it seemed to him they\u2019d traveled less than a mile. Heavy snow slowed their progress to a crawl, and the journey to the Williams\u2019 cabin was proving to be slower and more arduous than any of them had expected. Ben knew it couldn\u2019t be helped, but that knowledge did little to ease his burgeoning impatience.<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it easy, Pa,\u201d murmured Adam from behind him, and Ben twisted in the saddle to glare at him.<\/p>\n

Adam gazed back sympathetically. \u201cPa, he\u2019s alive, and that\u2019s what\u2019s important right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben sighed heavily before acknowledging the sentiment with a slight nod. \u201cI know,\u201d he replied. \u201cHe\u2019s alive.\u201d
\nJoe was alive, but hurt badly. Shot. It was the sole bit of information on the crudely scrawled note that had been delivered to them in Gold Hill by one of Hoss\u2019s half-drunk friends. That and the information that Hoss was already on his way to the Lassiter ranch to fetch Doc Martin and that he\u2019d meet up with them in Virginia City.<\/p>\n

By the time he and Adam met Cameron Williams at the sheriff\u2019s office, Ben had been fair to bursting with questions about Joe\u2019s condition and what had happened to him, but before he could get a single word out, the sheriff held up a hand and stopped him. \u201cNope, nope. Not now. I\u2019ve already peppered poor Mr. Williams here with enough questions, Ben,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ll fill you in later. For now, we\u2019d best get going if we\u2019re gonna make it by nightfall.\u201d<\/p>\n

If Ben hadn\u2019t been so eager to be on their way, he\u2019d have slugged his old friend right then, sheriff or not.<\/p>\n

As it was, Hoss had prevented him from lashing out by arriving with the doctor, and they\u2019d all immediately mounted up and set out. Considering it was barely noon, and taking into account Cam\u2019s description of the location of his cabin, Ben had at first thought they\u2019d reach it long before sundown. But the snowy terrain had given way to ice as they climbed higher along the southwestern slope of Mount Rose and it was proving especially difficult to navigate the horses through the slick and narrow trails. As slow-going as the trip was turning out to be, Ben mused bitterly, they\u2019d be lucky if they arrived at the Williams cabin by midnight.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhoa!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s head jerked up at the shout from up ahead. Williams abruptly reined in his pony and dismounted, then crouched down to study something in the snow.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d Adam asked, craning his neck to see.<\/p>\n

Ben shook his head. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he muttered. \u201cWith the luck we\u2019re having there\u2019s probably a rockslide up ahead blocking the trail.\u201d<\/p>\n

He motioned to Adam and Hoss; they all dismounted and sloughed through the snow up to where the sheriff and Williams were already deep in discussion. Williams was gesturing and pointing to something along the ground. He looked up sheepishly, almost guiltily, when Ben joined them.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m awful sorry, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d he said. \u201cI thought this would be the best route to take and all, what with there being so many horses\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat I\u2019m saying is, I thought this route would be easier on your mounts. The other trail\u2019s rougher and steep, but my Ivy\u2019s pretty nimble and is used to the terrain. But I hadn\u2019t counted there being so much ice on this side of the ridge. It\u2019s made things a lot slower.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cWell, it looks like it\u2019s gonna get worse the higher we go,\u201d Williams replied, squinting at the trail ahead. \u201cWe don\u2019t have a lot of options.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben rubbed his eyes tiredly. \u201cWhat do you suggest?\u201d he asked, hoping the option wasn\u2019t to head back to Virginia City.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think we should double back and head back up the way I came down. It\u2019s steeper, but it\u2019s all snow, and not ice.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sheriff Coffee nodded. \u201cI think Williams here is right, Ben. It\u2019ll add some time, but the way it\u2019s going it can\u2019t add much.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment and nodded in resignation. \u201cAlright. You know the country around here,\u201d he replied. \u201cWhatever you think is best.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Mr. Cartwright. Awful sorry,\u201d Williams removed his hat and twisted it nervously in his hands. \u201cI shoulda known about this. I shoulda checked beforehand. I know you want to see your boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned to head back to his horse but was stayed by Ben\u2019s hand on his shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Williams?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCameron.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCameron. My boy\u2026you said he\u2019s shot? How bad is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Cam looked at him for a long moment as if deciding how to answer. \u201cMr. Cartwright, maybe you should just–\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the back. They got him in the back. Clean through. I think the kid was trying to run off on \u2018em.\u201d<\/p>\n

Shot in the back while trying to escape. Dear God. Ben closed his eyes, fighting to tamp down the sudden trembling that seemed to want to take over his body.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou okay, Mr. Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded, or he thought he nodded. He heard Adam\u2019s voice as if from far away.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Pa. Let\u2019s get going. Little Joe\u2019s waiting for us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Little Joe\u2019s waiting for us. Ben tried to comfort himself with the rather optimistic notion as he numbly remounted his horse; it brought to mind an image of his son warm and conscious and free from pain, waiting patiently for them in Cam\u2019s cabin, though Ben instinctively knew how far from the truth it was.<\/p>\n

He also realized that there was more, possibly devastating, information about what had happened to his boy up on that cold mountain. It was probably better not knowing now if he were to keep his wits about him for the rest of the journey. No wonder Roy wanted to spare him the details.<\/p>\n

The going was difficult as the afternoon wore on, just as Cameron had warned them, but Ben found himself welcoming the distraction; the effort of maneuvering his horse through the sometimes precarious, snow-covered terrain kept his mind from dwelling on his youngest son.<\/p>\n

Ben glanced up in surprise when Cameron reined in suddenly and motioned anxiously to the sheriff. Ben couldn\u2019t hear their discussion, but from Cameron\u2019s frantic gestures and Roy\u2019s somber nods in response, Ben knew something was wrong.<\/p>\n

Ben urged his horse through the snow until he was alongside them. \u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Cameron\u2019s head jerked toward him anxiously. \u201cThere,\u201d he said, pointing toward a line of trees to the west. \u201cTracks, Mr. Cartwright. Two horses cutting through those woods and heading straight up toward the cabin.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben swallowed down a cold wave of dread. \u201cCould it be\u2026maybe a neighbor?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo neighbor. It\u2019s not anyone who has any business being up here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen\u2026then you think\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d Cam replied. \u201cYes, I do.\u201d
\nz88;<\/p>\n

**********
\nKima brought two old rifles and a small ammunition box and placed them on the bed. Joe opened the box. The scant contents inside had him looking up at her, his brows raised.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re running low on supplies,\u201d she told him apologetically. \u201cCam was supposed to go on a supply run a week ago, but the snows came\u2014\u201d She raised her hands helplessly. \u201cI put most of the bullets we had in a pouch and packed it in Cam\u2019s saddlebag before he left this morning. I was afraid he might need them if he ran into those men on the trail. I just\u2026didn\u2019t really think they would have the nerve to show up here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stared down at the almost empty box for a moment, and then blew out a long breath, nodding slowly. His jawline hardened in determination. Throwing back the blankets, he took up the rifles and proceeded to load them. \u201cGet me my clothes,\u201d he told her, barely looking up.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou aren\u2019t well enough\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He raised his head. \u201cKima. Get my clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n

She bit her lip, hesitating for only an instant before nodding. Joe went back to preparing the guns for firing. A moment later she offered him his trousers and boots.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour shirt is still wet,\u201d she told him. \u201cI was washing it just before you woke up, trying to see if I could get the blood stains out.\u201d She indicated the shirt hanging on a peg on the wall; it had been wrung out, but was still so damp a tiny puddle had formed just beneath it. Faint shadows made a ragged circle around a small, frayed tear\u2014the remnants of blood stains around the hole the bullet had made when it had passed out of him in the front. \u201cI\u2019ll get you one of Cam\u2019s shirts,\u201d she told him, and politely averted her eyes as he pulled himself up and yanked the trousers on.<\/p>\n

She turned back to him as he sat on the edge of the bed to tug his boots on. \u201cYou\u2019re pale as a sheet,\u201d she muttered. \u201cAnd you\u2019re weak. You aren\u2019t up to this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not up to getting killed, either, and that\u2019s what\u2019ll happen if I just lie here,\u201d he retorted, holding an arm across his bandaged chest as he pushed off the bed. His legs trembled under his weight, but Kima said nothing more. Instead, she headed for the tiny wardrobe at the far end of the room for the shirt she had promised him.<\/p>\n

A sudden shout from outside froze her in her tracks.<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright!\u201d<\/p>\n

Kima\u2019s eyes met Joe\u2019s. She\u2019d still had some hope that whoever was out there was someone else, anyone else other than the men who had tried to kill this boy, but\u2026<\/p>\n

Joe confirmed the worst. \u201cIt\u2019s Clyde,\u201d he whispered hoarsely, and handed her one of the rifles. \u201cThe one who sent the ransom note to my pa.\u201d He looked toward the door. \u201cThey\u2019ve come back for me,\u201d he said, and she wanted to protest at the bleak resignation in his voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cCam and the sheriff will be coming, and perhaps your father, too. We can hold these men off until help comes,\u201d she insisted.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got three bullets between us, Kima. Three bullets. It isn\u2019t enough,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright, we know you\u2019re in there!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe have to try!\u201d she urged him, but he was looking at her with an odd expression on his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re here because of me,\u201d he said. \u201cI brought them here. It isn\u2019t fair to you. You didn\u2019t ask for any of this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNeither did you,\u201d she said, frowning.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I just go with them, they\u2019ll leave you alone.\u201d He looked at the door, the line of his thinking suddenly clear.<\/p>\n

She shot her hand out to grab him by the arm. \u201cYou listen to me, Joe,\u201d she said fiercely, and his face swung toward her, eyes wide. \u201cDo you really think if you hand yourself over to them they\u2019ll just walk away from here? These are men who didn\u2019t care if you died a slow death in a snowstorm; they are men who shot you and left you for dead. Do you really think they would have the decency to leave an unprotected woman alone and unharmed? Do you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKid, I\u2019m talking to you!\u201d The voice called out, louder and more insistent.<\/p>\n

Joe looked at the door again, and then back at her. Finally, he shook his head. \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

She breathed easier. \u201cThen you know we have no choice but to fight.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded and gave her a grim smile. He moved to the door and leaned heavily against the wall beside it.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you all right?\u201d she asked him, and then shook her head at the senselessness of the question.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe whole room is swimming,\u201d he said wryly, but when Kima began to hurry in his direction, he put up a hand warning her away. He gestured to the cabin\u2018s one window. \u201cStay over there and keep watch. And stay close to the floor.\u201d<\/p>\n

She hesitated, and then did as he asked.<\/p>\n

Slowly, Joe shoved back the wooden bolt on the door and eased it open a crack, letting cold air spill into the room. He pressed one eye against the opening, and then looked back at Kima.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re coming across the clearing,\u201d he whispered. \u201cGet ready.\u201d Within seconds, the sounds of creaking leather and jangling bits drifted through the partially open door.<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright? Hal here says he shot you up pretty good. Fact is, we was surprised to hear you wasn\u2019t dead after all. So\u2026just how bad off are you, son?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot too bad to see the two of you straight to Hell if you come any closer,\u201d Joe shouted back.<\/p>\n

Coarse hoots and laughter erupted from outside. \u201cWell, now, I wouldn\u2019t go bettin\u2019 on that if I was you, kid. From what we hear, you\u2019ve got one foot in the grave already. Course, being as yer up and yammering at us, could be you ain\u2019t as bad off as that feller thought. Still, I reckon that hole Hal put in you has got you weak enough that we can take you without too much trouble. Don\u2018t you think so?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hunkered down on the floor, Kima watched Joe\u2019s throat work. She could see that he was shivering even as beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, his throat, his chest. He held the rifle in front of him with both hands as he pressed his back against the wall, letting his head fall against it. His breath coming hard, he looked at her for a long moment before shouting, \u201cI think your man Hal is a worse shot than he\u2019s letting on, Clyde. He just winged me, that\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n

There were angry mutterings and Hal\u2019s voice pitched high in denial. Then a few moments of silence went by before Clyde called out again. \u201cTell you what, kid. You come on out now, and we won\u2019t hurt you none. We\u2019ll collect our money from your rich daddy, and then we\u2019ll all go our separate ways. Shoot, we\u2019ll even set you somewhere where they can find you quick and take you on down to the doc to get you patched up. What do you say, boy?\u201d
\n\u201cGo to hell.\u201d<\/p>\n

Clyde tsked loudly. \u201cGuess we\u2019ll just have to do this the hard way, then.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kima watched Joe shiver; his chest heaved as he took breaths that were too fast and too shallow. The strain was too much, just as she\u2019d known it would be. The men outside knew it, too. She could hear it in the menacing tones of their voices. They knew he was hurt. They knew he couldn\u2019t hold them off. He shut his eyes as though gathering strength.<\/p>\n

When he opened them again, they were still bright with fever, but had hardened into something Kima didn\u2019t like seeing. \u201cPull the curtains back on the window so I can see,\u201d he whispered to her. She reached up and did as he asked; he gazed at the clearing outside the window for a moment, and then visibly sagged. \u201cEdge of the tree line is too far away,\u201d he muttered softly. \u201cIf you climb out the window, there\u2019s too big a chance they\u2019ll see you before you get across the clearing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not leaving you here!\u201d she hissed.<\/p>\n

He shook his head. \u201cIt\u2019s not a matter of\u2014\u201d He stopped, and cocked his head. \u201cKima. Listen to me now.\u201d His voice was very quiet, and very controlled. \u201cI want you to hide under the bed. They haven\u2019t said a word about anyone being in here with me, so I don\u2019t think they know. Keep quiet, keep the gun cocked, and if anyone pokes his head under there, you pull the trigger, you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t be able to see to help you fight them off if I\u2019m under the bed,\u201d she argued. \u201cYou\u2019ll be\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got one bullet in this rifle,\u201d he said coolly. \u201cThere are two in yours. Unless I\u2019m really lucky, I won\u2019t be able to hit either one of those men out there. On a better day, I\u2019d have a fighting chance, but today\u2026\u201d his voice trailed off, but she knew what he meant. He was sick, weak, shaky.<\/p>\n

Unless I\u2019m really lucky\u2026 Joe Cartwright\u2019s luck wasn\u2019t much to speak of, from what Kima had seen.<\/p>\n

She opened her mouth to argue again, but he was having none of it. \u201cGet under the bed,\u201d he told her again.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen take my bullets,\u201d she said, and started to unload her rifle.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d He said the word so sharply that she looked up at him in surprise. \u201cNo,\u201d he said again, more gently this time. \u201cIf I can\u2019t hit one of them with the first bullet, it\u2019s doubtful I\u2019d do any better with the second. I want you to have something to protect yourself with, just in case they stay long enough to snoop around the cabin. If you see a face other than mine from beneath that bed, you fire, you hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n

She stared at him. The youthful face looked older, somehow, hard and determined. Her heart suddenly broke for the man he would have become, and now most likely never would, if those men outside had anything to say about it. Despite his ragged breathing, he summoned a bright grin for her, a blinding flash of cocky boyhood and fierce masculinity.<\/p>\n

She bit her lip, then scooted under the bed; she cocked the rifle, and tried to blink her vision free of tears as she lay on her belly to wait.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t a long wait. The attack came in a flurry of gunfire, and Kima heard Joe\u2019s gun explode, followed by an enraged shriek from outside.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe got me in the hand!\u201d one of the men outside bellowed, and more shots followed. Bullets splintered chips of wood from the door; the slivers scattered across the room, some no more than a few inches from Kima\u2019s nose. She jumped when Joe\u2019s rifle hit the floor with a clatter. All she could see of him from her vantage point was his boots; they turned and slid with small jolting movements as he strained to hold the door closed.<\/p>\n

He did not last long. The door banged back against the wall with a rush of pounding boots. Shouts and curses from the men filled the room, along with the sounds of fists hitting flesh. Tiny cries welled up in her throat, threatening to disclose her hiding place, and Kima pressed cold fingers against her mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m gonna kill you for shootin\u2019 me, you murderin\u2019 little\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot now, Hal,\u201d came the clipped command. \u201cWe gotta get out of here with him first. Tie him up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe was flung belly down onto the floor in front of her, his face toward her, hair falling into his eyes. His arms were yanked up hard behind his back, and a rope was wrapped quickly around his wrists. Pain-glazed eyes met her gaze, and she gripped her rifle, raising it a couple of inches off the floor in preparation to move.<\/p>\n

She couldn\u2019t just lie here. She couldn\u2019t. I have to help you.<\/p>\n

He knew what she was asking. He moved his head sharply sideways, just a quick jerk.<\/p>\n

No.<\/p>\n

He grunted as a booted foot kicked him in the side. Rough hands wrapped ropes around his wrists and pulled tight.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to tie me up before you can handle me, is that it?\u201d Joe mocked. \u201cI should\u2019ve known. The two of you together aren\u2019t man enough to take me on face to face\u2014\u201d He grunted again, and then coughed and choked as he was rewarded with another kick.<\/p>\n

\u201cI ain\u2019t listenin\u2019 to his smart mouth all night,\u201d one of the men growled. A hand gripped Joe by the hair and twisted his head backwards while a bandana was forced into his mouth and tied tightly behind his head.<\/p>\n

He kept his eyes on hers, willing her to remain silent. She tried hard not to cry, but tears tracked down her cheeks with impotent fury.<\/p>\n

And then, in one violent motion, he was wrenched up off the floor and she could no longer see his face. His boots were all that were in view; they slid and stumbled as the men pushed and dragged him out the door. Outside, horses snorted; hooves tramped a muffled beat across the snow, and then all was quiet. Kima was left in a silent cabin.<\/p>\n

For long moments, she lay frozen. Not two feet away, traces of blood stained the wooden floor.
\n**********
\nThe sudden staccato of gunfire that erupted in the distance stunned them all into horrified silence.<\/p>\n

It was Sheriff Coffee who regained his composure first. He yanked his rifle from his scabbard. \u201cLet\u2019s go!\u201d he snapped, kicking his horse briskly in the direction of the tracks, no longer finding it necessary to let Cameron lead the way.<\/p>\n

Ignoring safety in their urgency to get to Joe, they covered the rest of the distance quickly. When the cabin finally came into view, a woman rushed through the door and stumbled through the snow to meet them. Ben\u2019s heart sank.<\/p>\n

They were too late.<\/p>\n

z88;
\n**********
\nCold\u2026so horribly, painfully, bitterly cold. His bare chest and shoulders burned with it. In all his life, Joe never thought he could be this cold again, and unbelievably the nightmare was happening all over again. He\u2019d stopped trying to control his trembling; it was only making it hurt more. All over again, he could feel his senses beginning to desert him. He was relieved that Kima was okay, though he knew it would be over for him soon. No one would be coming around to rescue him this time.<\/p>\n

Clyde tightened his hold around his waist. \u201cKid\u2019s shaking so much I can hardly keep hold,\u201d he grumbled.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe sure ain\u2018t doubling up with me,\u201d Hal retorted. \u201cDamn kid got me in the hand, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, pull up for a second so I can cover him up. He keeps up with this shaking he\u2019s gonna shake hisself right off this horse.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen you use your own saddle blanket. He sure as hell ain\u2019t bleedin\u2019 all over mine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe let out a long sigh of gratitude when Clyde stopped his horse and wrapped a blanket around him several times. At that moment he didn\u2019t even care why.
\n**********
\n\u201cWe\u2019ve been following these tracks for an hour, and we still haven\u2019t caught sight of them.\u201d Ben said. He looked up at his oldest son. \u201cThey don\u2019t even appear to be moving in any particular direction. What do you make of it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam shrugged and looked up the trail, where Hoss rode hunched sideways in the saddle so as to better see the tracks. \u201cHoss says they\u2019re hunting a place to hole up and hide, but they made the mistake of waiting until they got up too high. Too flat and too few trees up here to hide much of anything. He says that\u2019s why they\u2019re traveling in circles and in such a hurry they can\u2019t be bothered to try to hide their trail. I agree with him.\u201d He looked back at Ben, eyes dark with intent purpose. \u201cWe\u2019re going to catch them, Pa. It\u2019s just a matter of when.\u201d<\/p>\n

Just a matter of when. Just a matter of precious minutes. Just a matter of life and death.<\/p>\n

Cameron\u2019s wife Kima had painted a chilling picture of what had happened.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey came with guns and beat the door in,\u201d she\u2019d sobbed into her husband\u2019s shoulder. \u201cThey said they could still get the money. Joe had made me hide under the bed, and I couldn\u2019t do anything\u2014\u201d She had cried harder, and Cam had hugged her close. After a minute, she\u2019d drawn back, shaking her head, and though tears still shone on her cheeks, now anger flashed in her dark eyes. \u201cHe was so sick, and they didn\u2019t care. They beat him and tied his hands and dragged him out into the snow and took him away. He didn\u2019t even have a shirt on,\u201d she finished helplessly, and Cam had pulled her to him again.<\/p>\n

Her words had hit Ben like a hard punch to the gut. His boy was badly hurt, and now he was being dragged through freezing temperatures only half-dressed. He\u2019d swung back into the saddle and headed out, not heeding the others\u2019 shouts to him to wait. He\u2019d been only vaguely aware of Adam\u2019s shouted orders for Cameron and Doc Martin to stay at the cabin to care for the distraught Kima.<\/p>\n

Thinking of it now, his heart began to slam with the same killing rage he\u2019d felt when he\u2019d first heard Kima\u2019s words. And here they were, still trying to catch the animals who were killing his son bit by slow bit.<\/p>\n

It was just a matter of when.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere they are!\u201d Hoss\u2019s shout rang out. Ben snapped his head around to see him point toward a tall ridge of boulders several hundred yards in the distance where two horses plunged through the snow. One mount labored under two riders.<\/p>\n

They spurred their horses forward. Their intended quarry froze, heads coming up in surprise. For one tiny instant, Ben caught sight of Joe\u2019s face, pale and haggard even at this distance, and rage blanked out all thought as he roared an oath and dug his spurs deeper into his horse\u2019s flanks. The kidnappers immediately came to their senses and put spurs to their own mounts. The gap between them closed, clouds of white powder flying through the air as the horse carrying two riders struggled through the drifts.<\/p>\n

And then, unexpectedly, Joe\u2019s captors swung their mounts around and stopped. Dying sunlight glinted off the barrel of a gun as it was brought up to rest against Little Joe\u2019s temple.
\n**********
\nHe was bleeding again. Joe could feel it, feel the thickness of it sticking to his skin, sticking to the blanket covering him. He was starting to shiver again, and he knew it was from more than the cold. Something in the back of his mind told him that wasn\u2019t good, but he\u2019d stopped caring. At least he wasn\u2019t cold anymore.<\/p>\n

He was listing forward, and below him, the snow-covered ground spun. He expected to fall, but his sluggish mind registered the fact that someone was holding onto him, although he couldn\u2019t think who it was.<\/p>\n

Wait. Clyde. It was Clyde. He couldn\u2019t just sit and let Clyde hang on to him. Clyde was bad. Joe struggled feebly and was rewarded with a rough shake.<\/p>\n

\u201cKnock it off, kid.\u201d<\/p>\n

Something hard pressed against his head, and Clyde yanked him closer.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright, Cartwright. This here\u2019s a warning! You all go on back the way you came or I\u2019m gonna put a bullet in your boy here; you hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n

A voice came from far away, a familiar voice. Joe struggled to remember the name that went with it, but couldn\u2019t. The most awful racket kept obliterating everything else, a deafening, vibrating sound; it was several moments before he realized it was the sound of his own teeth knocking together.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou listen here! This is Sheriff Coffee! Now you know that boy ain\u2019t no good to you dead! Look around you! As far as you can see, no matter where you look, you boys are gonna leave a trail. There ain\u2019t no way you\u2019re getting outta here! Why don\u2019t ya turn yourselves in and we\u2019ll go easy on ya?\u201d<\/p>\n

Frantic whispers bounced back and forth between Joe\u2019s captors, ended by a low-pitched, triumphant giggle from Clyde. He pushed Joe forward slightly and Joe felt him fumbling with the edge of the blanket wrapping him.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright, Cartwright,\u201d Clyde hollered. \u201cAlright! How \u2018bout this?\u201d<\/p>\n

Clyde pulled the blanket free, and cold air enveloped Joe in a muscle-seizing rush. His eyes flew open at the sudden, bare-skinned exposure.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long before he freezes to death, Cartwright?\u201d
\n**********
\n\u201cDear God!\u201d Ben cried out. \u201cNo!\u201d<\/p>\n

They tentatively spurred their horses forward until perhaps fifty feet separated them from Joe’s captors. A warning shot from one of them halted any further movement.<\/p>\n

Ben growled and touched his heels to his horse\u2019s flanks, determined to charge ahead anyway. He was held back by Adam\u2019s quickly restraining hand on his arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, no. He\u2019ll shoot Joe if we get any closer!\u201d<\/p>\n

The kidnapper still held his gun to Joe\u2019s head, but that was the least of Ben\u2019s worries now. Joe was off-balance, his body tilted slightly forward and held upright only by the rough hand of the gunman; his violent trembling and the appalling bluish pallor of his skin was visible even this distance. Red stained the bandage across Joe\u2019s chest. Muscle rippled and tensed with the effort of warming bare skin.<\/p>\n

Horror uncoiled itself within Ben\u2019s gut. If he\u2019d had any doubts about how low the temperature might be, the frozen moisture glistening on the muzzles of the horses painted a deadly picture; his boy had only minutes before he froze to death\u2014if his gunshot wound didn\u2019t kill him first. Even as he watched, Joe\u2019s shivering seemed to lessen, grow less violent and less frequent\u2014a sure sign of a body giving up the fight to warm itself.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben couldn\u2019t think, couldn\u2019t breathe. \u201cPlease!\u201d His voice cracked. \u201cI\u2018ll do whatever you ask! Please.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man twisted a fist into Joe’s gag and jerked his head back. The boy\u2019s eyes fell shut. “Throw your guns into the ground in front of you. Sidearms, too.”<\/p>\n

Ben and his sons hesitated, but did as they were told. Ben glared at Roy. “Roy, do it. My God! Look at him!”<\/p>\n

Roy grunted loudly, but complied.<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s captor nodded. Joe sagged, arms falling to his sides, head lolling back. The gunman readjusted his hold on Joe, visibly straining from the dead weight, but kept the muzzle of the pistol tight against his head. \u201cNow just turn around and go on back the way you came!\u201d<\/p>\n

He couldn\u2019t turn away and leave Joe here. He couldn\u2019t. \u201cHow do we know you’re not going to let him freeze to death?\u201d There had to be a way out of this. Dear God, he was watching his boy die in front of him\u2026<\/p>\n

Laughter cracked across the snow. “Cause we want our five thousand, Cartwright! Now, soon as you’re out of sight, we’ll cover your boy right back up and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Gunfire erupted with a suddenness that had Ben nearly jumping out of his skin. Joe\u2019s captors jerked and fell from their saddles, taking Joe with them.<\/p>\n

Ben flung himself from his saddle. Deep snow clutched at his boots; he fought against it with terrified fury, scrambling and lunging and falling through the snow to get to his son\u2019s side. Gently, he lifted his boy free from the snow-covered ground and pulled him close to his chest. \u201cJoe!\u201d he breathed. He tightened his arms around his son\u2019s body, unable to get close enough.<\/p>\n

A few feet away, Adam and Hoss kicked guns out of reach of the kidnappers, both of whom were writhing in pain in the snow. Adam gave their injuries a cursory inspection, before announcing wryly, \u201cThey\u2019ll live. Should be healthy enough for a nice long spell in Sheriff Coffee\u2019s jail.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cameron Williams emerged from the boulders flanking them, looking sheepish. \u201cI\u2019m sorry for shooting them, Sheriff, Mr. Cartwright. You can arrest me if you need to. But the way I see it, those men were killing that boy just as sure as if they were sticking a knife in him\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He broke off, his eyes, like those of the others, drawn to the sight of a father kneeling in the snow, clasping the unresponsive body of his son to his chest.<\/p>\n

**********
\n\u201cCan you hear me? It\u2019s me, Little Joe. It\u2019s Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was a warm, soft, comforting dream, the kind of dream that made Joe want to snuggle back under the blankets and keep on dreaming, even if it meant sleeping through breakfast. He even felt like he was rocking, just like when he was a little boy. It was a strange kind of rocking, though, and the awareness of it had him sleepily opening his eyes.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cPa?\u201d He frowned at the sound of his own voice; it had come out hoarse, funny. In front of him, the dark mane of his pa\u2019s horse shimmered into view. He was on his pa\u2019s horse, held snug against his pa\u2019s chest, and wrapped up with\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cMy coat? Is this my coat?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe turned his face into the familiar wool material and breathed it in. Funny. It smelled like his pa. Usually it smelled like wet wool or horses or the inside of the closet in the corner of the great room at home, but today\u2026today it smelled like his pa. He wondered why.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure\u2026 sure coulda used this earlier,\u201d he said, yawning. Vague memories began to drift hazily to the surface, hard, piercing memories full of cold and pain and fear. Deciding he could deal with them later, he turned away from them and settled himself even deeper into his coat.<\/p>\n

As sleep reached up to claim him again, his pa drew him closer, and the feather-light brush of his pa’s lips touched him where the collar met his cheek.
\n**********
\nThe note had come by way of a ranch hand, and Joe had no time to spare.<\/p>\n

Leather hissed against leather as he tightened the cinch of his saddle. \u201cI\u2019ll be back by Tuesday, Pa,\u201d he said, checking over buckles and ties. \u201cI hate to leave Hoss and Adam with all that branding tomorrow, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour brothers will understand,\u201d Ben broke in. \u201cIt isn\u2019t every day a man has a baby named for him, after all.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shot him a grateful grin and swung up into the saddle, and Ben felt his heart squeeze. Months had passed; Joe\u2019s wound had healed, and still Ben couldn\u2019t help but think how close he had come to never seeing that smile again. It was oddly appropriate that the man who had saved Joe\u2019s life would only now be able to truly appreciate what sort of miracle he had wrought; only now that he was a father himself could Cameron Williams begin to really understand the importance of the gift he had given to a father.<\/p>\n

Ben shook himself and handed up a small box wrapped in yellow paper and tied with white ribbon. \u201cDon\u2019t forget young Joseph\u2019s christening gift.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Pa.\u201d Joe tucked the box safely into a saddle bag, and then gave Ben\u2019s shoulder a final farewell pat. \u201cSee you Tuesday.\u201d He wheeled Cochise around and put his heels to the horse\u2019s flanks.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe!\u201d Ben\u2019s shout rang out behind him, and Cochise skidded to a stop.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cI just\u2014I just\u2014\u201d Ben pulled in a steadying breath. \u201cWait here, son. I forgot something.\u201d He turned away from Joe\u2019s puzzled expression and ran into the house to get what he needed. Grabbing it up, he hurried back outside with it. Never mind that the sun was shining, the air was warm, the grass was green and early summer flowers were in bloom. Never mind that he was a foolish old man. He didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere,\u201d he said, and thrust it up toward his son. \u201cTake it.\u201d He waited, took a breath, and added, \u201cPlease.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s eyes softened. Something fleeting passed across his face, and Ben couldn\u2019t be sure if it was mere sympathy or shared pain. But he nodded, and without a word, took the blue and green wool coat out of Ben\u2019s hands and tied it firmly to the back of his saddle. And then he cantered away, out of sight, out of reach\u2026but firmly enveloped by the warmth of a father\u2019s heart.
\nThe End<\/p>\n

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Much appreciation to our beta reader, freyakendra! You are awesome, girlfriend! Thanks! <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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

Summary: \u00a0The ransom note came attached to Joe’s coat: ‘We have your boy, Cartwright, and he’s cold. How long before he freezes to death?’ Can Ben save Joe from kidnappers before it’s too late?<\/p>\n

Rated:\u00a0 K+ (18,485 words)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":157,"featured_media":7454,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[23,41,1007,40],"tags":[438],"class_list":["post-7453","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","category-hurtcomfort","category-joe-cartwright","category-challenges","tag-devonshire","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-41-id","wpcat-1007-id","wpcat-40-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/05\/Image14.jpg?fit=632%2C570&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7453","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/157"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7453"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7453\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/7454"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7453"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7453"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7453"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}