Joy Cometh in the Morning

By Debbie B ;0)

Paul pulled the blankets up around the boy’s neck, slowly shook his head and sadly motioned for the brothers to come into the hallway with him. Hop Sing hurried to the bedside to fill Doc Martin’s place where he could remain near the dying boy. Hop Sing dabbed at his eyes as he toyed with the covers and watched as his favorite son stared blankly into space. Joe had been in that condition for nearly a week now lingering between life and death, most times closer to death than to life. Hop Sing sniffed his nose sighing deeply, so much heartache for the family he cherished as his own. First Mr. Ben’s sudden and unexpected death not much more than a month earlier and now Little Joe’s grieving was about to claim his young life. How much more grief could the remaining members of the family take before it ended?

Adam and Hoss followed Paul Martin into the hallway and waited as he closed the door to their brother’s room. Both young men stood quietly waiting for the words the family doctor would give to them that would confirm their deepest fears, Joe was dying, there was no longer any question about it.

Paul could barely bring himself to look into the two pairs of eyes that even now were beginning to fill with tears. Gulping and silently praying for the right words, Paul spoke softly.

“Adam, Hoss…I don’t think I have to tell you what’s happening. Joe is worse this afternoon; we can all see that. I wish there were something I could give him, something that I could say or do that would reverse what is happening to him. But there’s not, I’m so sorry.” Paul watched as the tears rolled slowly down the cheeks of the oldest two Cartwright boys and wished with all of his heart he had a miracle in his back pocket so that he could wipe away the sadness from their young faces.

“How long?” whispered Adam, his voice cracking as he spoke and looked the doctor face to face as the dampness of his tears glistened in the soft rays of the lamp sitting on the nearby table.

“One never knows with these things Adam, I can only speculate. One maybe two days, three if we’re lucky,” offered Paul, knowing that his statement was not the answer that the boys were hoping for. He knew in his own heart that without divine intervention, this time next week Joe would be were he longed to be, with his father and mother forever together in everlasting life.

“Why Paul? Why doesn’t he fight anymore?” cried Hoss in a choked voice as the sobs began to cause his large frame to tremble.

“I wish I had an answer for you Hoss. But it appears that Joseph has just given up, he’s lost the will to live. I never thought that it would come to this. I guess I was expecting him to go the other way after Ben died. You know, fight, drink, and get into trouble, that sort of thing. I would never have thought that he would collapse so completely. I think we all just did not realize the amount of love he had for your father or the amount of dependency he placed on Ben. Ben was Joe’s strength; he drew from it daily, now in Joe’s eyes that strength is gone and with it, his own,” answered Paul.

“All we can do for him now is to make him comfortable. I seriously doubt that we can get him to start eating again but we can still force him to take liquids, which he needs worse than food right now. He’s oblivious to the world around him. Short of a miracle, it’s only a matter of time I’m afraid. Not that I don’t believe in miracles, I definitely do. My father taught me that where there is breath, there is life, and where there is life, hope, and hope, miracles. I guess that’s why I followed in his footsteps and became a doctor. I wanted to help others, to give them hope and maybe give a few people a miracle.” Paul sighed deeply. “I wish I had a miracle for you. God how I wish it,” mumbled Paul, his voice laden with emotion.

“Adam, Hoss, I want you both to stay close to him. Even though you think he isn’t aware that you are around, he can still hear you. He needs to hear your voices; he needs to know that you care and that you love him. Tell him so. But tell him you understand. I know that will be the hardest thing you will probably ever have to do, letting go is often harder on the living than passing is on the dying, but he needs to know that it is okay for him to go. He’s hurting inside,” Paul tapped his heart, “the worst kind of hurt there is when you lose someone you love so very, very much. It’s a pain that never stops no matter how much you want it too. For some it lessens with time but for others, like Joe, it destroys you.”

“But it’s not okay, doc,” wept Hoss. “I don’t want him to go, I don’t want him to die.” Hoss buried his face in his hands the sobs causing his heavy shoulders to heave.

Adam moved closer to his brother and placed his arm about Hoss’ shoulders.

“Neither do I, Hoss. But it seems to be what our little brother wants. We both know he would be happier being with Pa and his ma than here with us. I don’t understand it myself, but if it makes it easier for him, then I think we should do as Paul suggests. I don’t want him dying thinking that I was disappointed in him. I want him to know that I loved him, that I always have loved him, ever since he took his very first breath.”

Adam’s own grief overcame him and with both the doctor and his brother watching, Adam turned his face to the wall, buried his head in his arms and wept for both his deceased father and his dying younger brother.

“Listen boys, I know this is so very hard for both of you, especially following so close on the heels of Ben’s death. I don’t know how you believe, but I believe that each and every one of us has only so many days, months and years to live on this earth. The Good Book even tells us as much; our days are numbered. All of us are only allotted so much time, some more and some less. For Ben, he lived a long happy life. He had his moments, but for the most part, it was a good full life. For Joe, well, he is young and we might question the fact that his life is ending at such a tender age. But nonetheless, only God can determine whether now is Joe’s time or not. And if it is, then it is up to us to except it as such, keep the faith and know that one day you will have the answers to all of your questions,” counseled the family physician. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me. Now go and be with your brother while you can and know that God is near.”

Adam and Hoss stood motionless until the doctor had reached the family room down stairs before opening the door to Joe’s room. Both knew in their own hearts what they had to do and it was with heavy hearts that the brothers approached the bed where their younger sibling lay clinging to life. Adam glanced up at Hoss, the tears glistening on his face as he sat down on the edge of the bed and gathered Joe into his arms. Joe remained unmoving seemingly unaware that he rested in his brother’s loving embrace.

“Joe,” whispered Adam placing his mouth close to Joe’s ear so he would be sure that the boy heard him. “I know you’re hurting little buddy. Believe me, I know how that feels right now.”

Adam brushed at the stray curls that clung to Joe’s forehead and then placed his lips against his brother’s brow, holding them there for several seconds unable to stop the tears that slipped silently from his brown eyes. Gritting his teeth to refrain from screaming out in despair, Adam swallowed several times forcing himself to maintain control.

“I love you Joe, I hope you know that. I always have loved you. I know there where times when you thought perhaps I didn’t, like the times when I had to turn you over my knee when you were a kid, or the times when we got into fist fights. Sure I got mad at you a lot, maybe too much, but I never stopped loving you…never. And I’m proud of you Little Buddy, more proud than you will ever know. I could have never had a better baby brother than you.” Adam tightened his hold around Joe’s body and momentarily paused. Turning Joe’s head so that he could look into his brother’s face, Adam wiped his tears with the back of his hand and continued.

“Joe, it’s okay. I understand that this is hard for you. I know why you’ve stopped trying, really I do. I wish I had that kind of courage, to want to be with someone so badly that you are willing to give up your life to make that possible. I don’t want to lose you little brother, but I’m willing to let you go if you will be happier there than here with us. I’ll miss you Joe Cartwright you little scamp. Oh God Joe, I love you so much!”

Adam’s struggle with self-control broke as he cried and rocked Joe back and forth in his arms for several minutes before finding his voice again. Sniffing once, he lowered Joe’s head back onto the soft pillows and rearranged the blankets under Joe’s chin. Leaning forward himself, Adam placed his face close to the side of his brother’s head for a second time.

“It’s okay to go, Joe.” Adam kissed the thin face, brushed back another fallen curl and rose from the bed. Turning to face Hoss, he noted the tears that streamed from his middle brother’s tear stained face. A movement on the bed caused Adam and Hoss to turn and for just a brief second, Adam’s eyes locked with hazel eyes and Adam could have sworn he saw tears pooling in their depths. Before Adam could return to the bed, the hazel eyes closed to the world around them stopping Adam in his tracks. Hoss instead moved to claim the spot next to Joe where Adam had sat minutes before. Adam turned his back to his two younger brothers and silently left the room, the weight of the world bearing down upon his broad shoulders.

Hoss sat for long minutes, not sure what to say to his brother. He held the smaller hand in his own larger one and with his free hand, caressed the cheek of the sleeping boy. Hoss made no attempt at stopping his tears; it was useless to try, for they had continued non-stop it seemed to the big man, since the death of their father.

“Hey Punkin,” Hoss finally whispered. “It’s ole Hoss here with ya now. I…I…dadburnit Little Joe, why’d ya go git yourself all messed up fer anyhow?” asked Hoss shaking his head in frustration.

“Don’t ‘cha know that I love ya, boy? Don’t ‘cha know that I don’t wanna lose ya? Joe, Doc said I should tell ya it’s all right, what’cha doing to yourself I mean. But I caint, it ain’t all right. Doggoneit little brother, I don’t want ya to die, I’ve already lost more’n I can stand.” Hoss gave in to his tears as he poured his heart out.

“Please Punkin, I know why ya doin’ this, God only knows I wish I could die too. I miss Pa so bad that it hurts inside somethin’ awful like. Every now’n then I think I hear him callin’ my name, or I expect to see him sittin’ at his desk, or at the table. Then I remember that he’s gone and the hurt starts all over again.” Hoss stopped to catch his breath. “Maybe I do understand better’n I thought I did. Joe, I love ya short shanks, just don’t go furgettin’ that.” Hoss leaned down, placed a kiss of his own on Joe’s cheeks, and re-adjusted the blankets for lack of anything better to do.

Paul had left the two brothers alone with their sorrow moving down the stairs slowly, the burden he felt for this family of men showing plainly in the lines that etched themselves across his weary face. His own heart was breaking at the sorrow that had befallen this family he had always admired and respected. Ben had been one of his best friends and when word had been received of his death, Paul had cried, mourning the death as if it had been a member of his own family.

No one had suspected that when Ben had returned home long before finishing his business in San Francisco that he was actually ill. Ben had complained to his sons of not feeling well, but even he had not suspected that his friend had anything wrong with him other than a terrible case of indigestion. That next morning after Ben came home, all three boys had left to do their various jobs about the ranch. Hop Sing had taken the wagon into town for supplies and when the family servant returned he had found the senior Cartwright in the middle of the floor where he had fallen. Ben had died shortly after Hop Sing and the boys had left. The cause Paul had determined later had been a heart attack. By the time that Adam and Hoss returned, Ben had been dead for several hours and it was left up to him to break the news to both of Ben’s older sons. It was a job he did not necessarily want to do, but did nonetheless out of respect for his friend and the sons.

Adam and Hoss stood in shock as Paul had explained to them that their beloved father had died earlier that morning. For Hoss the tears had been immediate; Adam, always the strongest of the three Cartwright sons had held his emotions in check that is until he had entered his father’s bedroom where the body had been moved and placed upon his bed. Adam’s tears had been silent tears, almost respectful in their outpouring, where as Hoss’ had been loud. Every person who had hurried to the Cartwright home upon hearing of Ben’s passing had sat silently about the great room with their own tears slipping sadly from their eyes as the sounds of anguish filtered down from upstairs.

Not more than an hour later, eighteen-year old Joe Cartwright had ridden into the yard and wondered at the number of buggies and horses that stood unattended at the hitching posts. Only briefly did fear enter his thoughts before opening the door to his home and finding a multitude of people milling about inside. The silence was ear shattering as all eyes turned to watch him as he entered and placed his hat on the peg behind the door and slowly without uttering a word, unbuckled his gunbelt and placed the weapon on the credenza.

Quickly his eyes searched the room for his father and brothers. Before he could ask of their whereabouts, Roy Coffee, sheriff and long time friend of his father’s approached him and demanded of him. “Where have you been, boy?”

Stunned at the tone the sheriff had used and sensing that something was terribly wrong, Joe failed to answer the man’s question, instead moving toward the stairs. “Where’s my father?”

No one answered him but Joe noticed that the eyes turned away from him as if to avoid seeing him. “Where’s Adam? Hoss?” shouted Joe, feeling his stomach begin to do flip- flops as fear tightened about his young heart.

Joe moved across the room but was stopped at the bottom step by his older brother. Joe saw the tears, felt his brother’s pain and without having to ask, knew that something terrible had happened to their father.

“Adam?” questioned Joe weakly. A movement on the steps caused Joe to turn his attention upward. What he saw stopped his heart, Hoss lumbered slowly downward, tears streaming from his clouded blue eyes, behind him followed Doc Martin, tears in his own eyes and instantly Joe knew.

“PA!” screamed Joe as he fought to get passed his brothers and to his father’s side.

Adam placed a restraining hand on the younger boy’s shoulder, halting his ascent. “Joe, it’s too late. Pa is gone, he died after all of us left this morning, Hop Sing found him when he returned from town,” explained Adam watching his younger brother’s face for signs that might tell him that Joe was about to fall apart. It didn’t take long.

“NO!” screamed Joe his legs giving out from beneath him, which caused him to slide downward onto the bottom step.

Quickly, Adam grabbed him to break his fall as Hoss and the doctor moved to help. Joe’s dazed eyes frantically searched for his brothers, the crowd of people moved in closer as concern for the boy spread throughout the room. Joe’s breathing quickly became labored as he fought to pull oxygen into his lungs to keep himself from passing out. Paul ordered everyone back and out of respect for the grieving family, the onlookers did as instructed while watching Hoss gather the boy into his strong arms and hurry upstairs with his bundle shielded from the prying eyes.

The minute that they reached the top landing, Joe began struggling for release. Hoss stood the boy on his feet granting Joe the freedom he sought. Quickly Joe ran the length of the hall and burst into his father’s room where he stopped suddenly at the sight of his father lying on the bed, body draped in a clean white sheet and Hop Sing silently standing guard over Ben’s body.

Joe inched his way forward, his hands trembling as they reached for the sheet and slowly raised it so that he might see his father’s face. Tears dripped from his quivering chin, falling onto the bare skin of the corpse that stretched the length of the bed. Joe felt his knees go out from under him for the second time and fell onto the bed across the body of his father. Loud distressed wails could be heard through the opened windows all the way to the bunkhouse where several of the hired hands sat about the room silently and respectfully. More than one of the work toughened men wiped at their eyes that had been without tears for many years as the pitiful howls echoed from the main house. Downstairs, there was not a dry eye, each individual knowing of the love that Ben’s heartbroken little boy carried in his heart for his father whom he had idolized since he had been a babe in his father’s strong loving arms.

Joe cried, his sorrow chipping away at the remaining pieces of his brother’s own broken hearts. There was no consoling the grieving boy as he pleaded with his father to open his eyes. Over and over Joseph begged for Ben to wake up and smile at him. Joe even grabbed his father’s shoulders and shook him only causing the darkening body to flop lifeless in the hands of the distraught young man.

When Adam could stand it no longer, he motioned for Hoss’ help and together with Paul’s assistance was able to force Joe into releasing Ben’s body so that they could carry Joe into his own room. Once there, Paul moved swiftly to pull from his medical bag, a sleeping powder he forced Joe to swallow in hopes of calming the boy so that he might sleep.

Joe looked sadly into Adam’s eyes and whispered, “I didn’t even get to say good-bye. I wish I could just tell him one more time that I loved him.” Joe buried his face in his pillows allowing the tears to dampen the crispness of the white case that housed the cushion.

Adam bent low toward Joe and gathered the distraught boy into his arms. Hoss encircled both brothers with his own arms and the three held on to each other for a long time, their tears mixing into one as each cried out their sorrow.

“Hoss and I didn’t get to tell him either, Joe. But Pa knew that we loved him little buddy. Don’t ever forget that. He knew, I just know he did,” sobbed Adam caressing the back of Little Joe’s neck where the tension had gathered.

Paul slipped quietly from the room, leaving the three brothers alone with their sorrow and each other. Hoss helped Adam strip Joe’s clothing from his body and ready him for bed. It did not take the powder long before Joe began feeling the affects and soon his eyelids became too heavy with sleep to remain open. Adam dampened a cloth in the cool water that Hop Sing supplied and washed away the remnants of tears from his brother’s young face. Hoss had moved to the other side of the bed where he sat beside Little Joe’s sleeping form and took the smaller boy’s hand into his own large one. Hours later, Hoss remained where he was, still clinging to the hand of his young brother. Joe had cried out often throughout the night and tired though he was, Hoss could not pull himself away from Joe’s bedside, the need to remain close tugging at his heart.

By the time that the sun made it’s arrival on the new day, the neighbors had returned to their own families and all that remained at the Cartwright home was the sheriff and the doctor. Adam descended the steps; his usual bouncy self now walked with heaviness that seemed to out weigh even the man himself. Slowly Adam made his way to the table where Hop Sing appeared with a cup of hot coffee and where Roy and Paul sat quietly.

“How did the boy sleep?” asked Paul with concern.

“Not too well, I’m afraid. But then, I didn’t expect him too. To be perfectly honest, Hoss and I didn’t do such a fine job our selves,” offered Adam, covering his mouth to hide the yawn that had suddenly over taken him.

“Paul?” began Adam. “I’m worried about Little Joe. He’s taking this harder than any of us thought. We might have to keep him slightly sedated until after the funeral. I’m not sure he’ll make it if we don’t.” Adam explained to Paul how Joe had cried out for their father every few minutes in his sleep and how he had tossed and turned about the bed, sometimes nearly falling to the floor in his tormented slumber.

Paul set his fork aside and waited as Hop Sing placed Adam’s dishes in front of him. “That shouldn’t be a problem Adam. What about Hoss, how is he holding up?” The compassion that Paul felt toward his friend’s sons was evident in his tone of voice.

Adam sighed and looked toward the stairs half expecting to see his father standing there. Turning his attention to Paul’s question he explained that Hoss was faring pretty well at this point but was putting up a brave front for the benefit of the youngest brother.

“We agreed to try to put aside our own grief for Joe’s sake,” stated Adam downheartedly.

Adam leaned his forehead into the palms of his hands and pinched his nose. “I knew he would take this hard, but damn, he scares me Paul. He hasn’t stopped crying yet, not once. I don’t know where all that water is coming from.”

Looking into the compassionate eyes of the physician and seeing the concern he ventured on. “I’m afraid for him. Pa and I talked at length about this very thing should it ever happen, and now that it has; I can’t seem to remember anything that he told me. I, all of a sudden have forgotten what Pa said about how to deal with Joe and everything else.”

Paul and Roy saw the sudden tears that pooled in the dark eyes of the troubled young man who fought to hide them and Paul hurried to comfort him. “Adam, don’t force it right now. You are still in shock yourself. In a day or two after things have settled down a little, it will come to you. Don’t try to make any major decisions this early. There is plenty of time afterwards, as for Joe, I will help you Adam and you know that. I know how the boy can get when he becomes really upset, and this should be the mother lode of them all. If need be, I will give him just enough sedative to keep him calm so that he can get through the next few days, afterwards we’ll do whatever it takes to help him over the tough times.”

Adam stood staring straight ahead, barely hearing the words that the preacher spoke and willing himself not to cry in front of the large group of people who were in attendance at his father’s funeral. The movement on his left forced his attention to be drawn from his private thoughts as he watched the boy next to him struggling with his emotions. Adam could hear the soft whimpers as they slipped passed the tightly pressed lips of his younger brother. Adam caught Hoss’ eye as Hoss also watched with growing anxiety the way in which Joe’s body had begun to tremble and shake. The older brothers had placed the younger brother between themselves, each making sure that he stayed close enough in case they were needed. The doctor had made a powder earlier and Adam had nearly had to hold the boy down while Hoss forced open his mouth in order for Joe to take the medication. Now, the medicine had begun to take affect and Adam worried that Joe would not last the duration of the service before collapsing completely.

Leaning down so that only Joe could hear, Adam whispered softly. “Just be brave a little longer Joe. I know you can do this.”

Joe turned his tear-stained face up to his brother’s, the eyes perplexed and doleful, red and swollen from all of his crying. “I don’t think I can, Adam. Please…I don’t want to stay here…take me home,” sobbed Joe leaning heavily on Adam. Adam slipped his arm about Joe and shuttered as he felt the trembling that had consumed the boy’s body.

Hoss moved quickly seeing from the corner of his eye, Joe falling to the ground and was able to assist Adam in breaking the fall before Joe injured himself. Adam scooped Joe into his arms and giving the preacher a nod to continue with the service, carried the unconscious boy to the family buggy. With tender care, Adam placed Joe in the seat and climbed in next to him allowing his brother to recline against his own body for support.

Hoss gave Adam a sad smile and uttered in a whisper, “I think Pa would understand. Let’s take him home. We can come back later, after everyone is gone.” With that Hoss climbed into the back and together the brothers headed to the ranch house.

Paul had watched the scene from the opposite side of the grave as Joe had fallen into his brother’s arms. Softly Paul had moved through the thong of mourners and climbing into his buggy fell in behind the carriage that carried the Cartwrights to their home knowing that when they reached their destination, his services would be required.

The days passed slowly for the brothers. The older two Cartwrights did all in their power to bring some semblance of normality back into their lives but for Joe, nothing that his brothers tried could lessen his sorrow or grief. In the beginning, Joe forced himself to eat but then only bits and pieces of each meal were consumed. Most of the mealtime was spent toying with whatever had been placed onto his plate rather than being enjoyed. Hop Sing spent extra time in the kitchen preparing Joe’s favorite foods hoping to entice his appetite, but nothing that had been served could force the boy to eat more. And over the course of time, the eating had been reduced to practically nothing at all.

By the end of the second week Joe had lost so much weight and had become so weak that he could barely walk. At night the sounds of his weeping could be heard as they filtered from his bedroom down the hall and into the rooms of his brothers. On more than one night Adam had left his warm bed to console the youngest brother. On other nights Adam had found the boy sleeping in their father’s bed, tearstains spotting the linens that covered the pillows and mattress. Nightmares had been another cause for lack of sleep for each grieving family member. The piercing screams shattered the tranquillity of the nights, bringing both Adam and Hoss scurrying to offer their compassion and encouragement to their traumatized brother.

Late one evening about three weeks after Ben’s burial, Hoss had found Joe in the barn trying to saddle Cochise. “Where ya headed little brother?” Hoss asked, worried that Joe might take off and do something stupid. He and Adam had talked at length to Paul about some of the strange things that Joe had suggested. Paul had ordered them to keep close eyes on the boy for the next few weeks giving him more time to come to terms with the death of their father that had resulted in turning their worlds upside down.

“I’m just going for a ride. I need some space, I feel like I’m smothering staying in the house all of the time,” said Joe turning dispirited eyes up at his brother. “Everywhere I look I see him…I can’t stand it anymore Hoss. It’s driving me crazy, I have to get outta here,” Joe told him, his voice weighted with emotions that he struggled for control.

Joe tossed the blanket across Cochise’s back and turned for his saddle. As Joe grabbed for his saddle he stopped suddenly as a wave of weakness filtered through him. Leaning his head against the neck of his horse to keep himself from falling, Joe took a deep breath to fill his lungs before attempting to throw his saddle across the horse’s back.

Hoss heard the thump before seeing his brother falling to the floor. Quickly he moved placing himself between his brother and his brother’s horse. “Move over Cooch,” said Hoss, pushing against the horse’s side in an effect to keep the pinto from accidentally stepping on Joe who lay motionless on the ground.

Hoss pulled Joe from the stall and gathered the unconscious boy into his arms, shouting for Adam as he ran toward the house. Adam, who had been sitting at Ben’s desk trying in vain to completely total the long row of sums in the ledger, rushed to open the front door as the sounds of his brother’s urgent pleas reached his ears.

“What happened?” asked Adam as he stepped aside to allow Hoss to enter. Hoss hurried to the settee and placed Joe lovingly on the cushions.

“He collapsed while trying to saddle his dang horse. He was gonna take a ride he said.” Hoss moved to allow Adam to inspect their brother. “He ain’t hurt or nuthin’, he’s just so dadburn weak from not eatin’ he cain’t stand on his feet anymore. What are we gonna do Adam?” Hoss turned worried blue eyes to face Adam’s and the older boy could not help but see the tormented look that Hoss wore on his face.

“I don’t know Hoss.” Adam rubbed his forehead as if thinking of a solution. “I’ve tried talking to him even pleading with him to take better care of himself. He just doesn’t care anymore Hoss, it’s like he’s given up.” Adam swallowed several times hoping that the action would open his throat that had suddenly felt like it was closing up.

“Help me get him upstairs. Let’s put him to bed and then send for the doctor. Maybe there is something he can do, or at least tell us something that we can do for him,” suggested Adam as he slipped his arm about Joe’s body in an effort to pull him to his feet.

Adam shook his head slowly; Joe seemed to weigh nothing. Instead of helping the boy walk the distance to his room, Adam easily wrapped his arms about Joe’s legs and lifted the frail body into his capable arms where he carried Joe up the stairs and into the bedroom. Once there he waited as Hoss pulled back the bed covers allowing him to gently lower Joe onto the mattress. As Adam began the task of removing Joe’s clothing in order to ready him for bed and the doctor’s visit, Hoss saddled Chubb and hurrying rode swiftly into town to fetch the doctor.

As soon as Hoss returned with Paul the pair went straight to Joe’s bedroom. Paul was at a loss for words when he spied Joe buried beneath the covers. It had only been a couple of days since he had last paid a visit to the ranch to check on the family’s welfare. Since that time, Joe appeared to have suffered more weight loss; the once tanned and handsome face was now pale and drawn. There were dark circles surrounding the hazel eyes that just weeks earlier had danced with laughter and now appeared dazed and sunken. Gone too was the smile that had always before been a permanent fixture on the cherub like face of Ben’s youngest and most enduring son.

The changes in appearance saddened the physician for in his heart he knew that the loss of the father was causing the boy to grieve himself into an early and unnecessary grave. Paul racked his mind for something that he could do or say that would put the spark of life back into the despairing young man but could think of nothing. Paul knew that prayer would have to be the driving force in which the brothers would have to rely upon if they wanted the youngest to survive the storm that had all but destroyed his world.

After four days of forcing liquids into Joe’s mouth by spoonfuls and then with the aide of a dropper, Paul had to admit that he was no longer able to help the young boy. Joe had given up, the will to live was no longer there, and Paul hesitated to voice his opinions to Adam and Hoss. He had watched silently the way in which each young man suffered and dealt with his own grief; the last thing he wanted was to add to their current misery. Paul knew that before much longer he would have to confirm what he knew that each man saw when he watched his brother. Paul had seen the tears pooling in both the dark eyes of the oldest Cartwright son as well as in the blue eyes of the middle son and he had listened unnoticed as each young man prayed silently while holding Joe’s hand as they took turns sitting with the boy.

At last Paul pulled the blankets up around the sleeping form and moved out of the room and into the hallway……

Paul rested his head against the back of the soft leather chair that had been his friend’s favorite place in the house to sit. Paul recalled the many times that he had been a guest in this very home and the numerous times that his services had been required. He thought of the times that he had attended the home’s occupants and the few times he had feared for their lives while doing so.

The boy who lay upstairs waiting for his time to come had always been his most difficult patient. Paul smiled to himself remembering the night that word had come to him via urgent messenger, of the boy’s impending birth. Paul had hurried to Marie’s bedside. While Ben paced the long hall outside the delivery room, he and Marie struggled for hours to bring Ben’s tiny little baby boy into the world. The labor had been hard on both mother and son; Joe had been born breach, under weight and a month early. But the tiny boy had determination and a strong will to live. He had fought hard and overcame all obstacles having some where along the way managed to wrap his entire family tightly around his little finger. He was the heart of the Cartwright home, the love of his mother’s life and the joy that had kept Ben from giving up when Marie had suddenly been snatched from their lives five years later. To his older brothers Joe had often been a thorn in their sides, constantly chattering, following them wherever they went, getting into trouble and often as not getting the older boys into trouble along with him.

But never once had either Adam or Hoss complained when each and every evening the tiny curly headed little boy would wrap his arms about their necks and plant his wet good night kisses all about their faces before retiring at the end of his day. Never had they shied away from the affection that the little boy had always been so willing and eager to bestow upon them for they seemed to have thrived on the hero-like worship that the impish little brother honored them with. In return the three older Cartwrights often as not found themselves doting on the youngest member of the family, giving in at times to his temper tantrums just to keep the little one smiling and everyone else’s life sailing on an even keel.

Now that same determination and strong will to live was gone. It died the same night that the father had also died. Gone now were the hugs, the kisses and soon the sound of the infectious laughter would no longer sound throughout the home that once housed a family of men who so openly and unashamedly loved one another.

Paul sighed and closed his eyes, sadness swallowing him in one large gulp. “They need a miracle God, and quickly,” prayed Paul, not caring that his eyes had misted as he prayed.

For two days and nights, Adam and Hoss remained at the bedside of their younger brother. Neither slept more than a few minutes at a time, each worried that Joe’s time would come at any second and each wanting to be on hand as the boy passed from one life into the next. Hoss’ tears flowed freely throughout the nights; the only assurance to his troubled heart was the sounds of Joe’s rasping he made with each breath that he took that told the family that he lingered on. Adam’s tears had stopped, not because he cared any less about the dying boy than his middle brother but because once again he felt the pressure of being the strong one that would be called upon to sustain the remainder of the family in their hour of need.

By the morning of the third day and much to the surprise of all, Joe remained alive. Knowing that the physician had told them that Joe very well could linger this long or longer, both Adam and Hoss were relieved when Joe opened his eyes for the first time in days. Quickly both brothers moved to the bedside and clasping the hands of the their brother, whispered encouragement into his ear.

“Hey Little Buddy,” whispered Adam, bending low in order that Joe could better hear him.

Joe made no response to his brother’s voice but only stared blankly into the space above Adam’s head. Hoss took his turn but still Joe remained immune to the fact that both of his brothers were present in the room with him. Minutes later, Joe’s eyes closed and once again Adam and Hoss were left with the feeling of defeat and impending doom.

A sharp rapping on the heavy oak door echoed throughout the silent house as Hop Sing hurried from the kitchen to respond. As he pulled open the massive door, Roy and Paul nearly knocked the small oriental man from his feet in their haste to enter.

“Where’s Adam?” Roy fairly shouted waving a small stack of papers about in the air as he hurried across the room heading in the direction of the stairs, Paul close on his heels.

“What’s all the racket?” called Adam from the top landing somewhat annoyed at the intrusion. Seeing his father’s two best friends about to start upward, Adam hurried down and joined the men his bad mood rapidly dissipating. Ushering the two excited men into the great room he wondered at the cause of their extreme anxiety.

“Sit down, please,” offered Adam waving his friends toward the vacant chairs.

“I can’t sit down,” Roy stated firmly in an agitated tone of voice. “Here, read this. Billy over at the telegram office brought this to me earlier. He thought I should see. Well needless to say after reading it, I came straight here.”

“What is it?” asked Adam taking the folded paper from the sheriff’s trembling hand. Before Roy or Paul could comment, Adam unfolded the paper and scanned the written words.

“Dear God, what kind of sick joke is this?” exclaimed Adam casting startled eyes at the two men standing before him. “Who would do a thing like this?”

“That’s what we were wondering. Who do you know in San Francisco that knew of your father’s dead and would possibly do something so cruel to a grieving family?” asked Paul taking the message from Adam’s hand and reading the words for the hundredth time before handing the paper back to Adam.

Hoss joined Adam and accepted the paper when Adam held it out to him. “Read this big brother and tell me what you think.”

Adam Cartwright

Ponderosa Ranch

Nevada Territory:

‘Will arrive on afternoon stage, STOP

Monday, June 8^th, STOP

Business completed successfully, STOP

Anxious to be home, Pa

Hoss felt the sting of tears as he looked into the face of his brother. “What in tarnation is this?” he asked, anger replacing the bewildered look on his face.

“I don’t know, but look at these,” Adam handed the other telegrams to his brother that he had been reading as Hoss had read aloud the first one. “All of these came after Pa died,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Afterwards? But how?” questioned Hoss letting his large frame fall onto the settee. “Why are we just now gettin’ em?” Hoss wanted to know.

Roy cleared his throat. “Seems like when they came in, Billy didn’t deliver them because Ben had already passed away and he felt like it would be more disturbing to the family if he showed them to you boys. But then this morning when this one came, he thought something funny was going on so he brought it to me,” explained Roy. “He thought that the first ones had been delayed getting through, that’s why he didn’t think anything about the fact that they arrived after your father was buried.”

Adam began pacing the floor in front of the fireplace trying to figure out just what was happening. "You mean to tell me, we received telegrams, supposedly from Pa, after he was supposed to have died and been buried?”

“It appears to be so,” agreed Roy. “That stage is due to be here in a couple of hours. Are you going to meet it?” questioned Roy, watching Adam’s face and seeing the anger that was starting to show in the lines across his brow.

Adam shot the sheriff an angry look, the anger not intended for the sheriff but at the unexpected situation that had suddenly developed. “You’re damn right I’m going to meet that stage. I want to see the man that claims to be Ben Cartwright!” Adam fairly shouted.

“I’m agoin’ with ya Adam,” started Hoss but stopped short when Adam interrupted him.

“No Hoss, one of us needs to stay here with Joe. Roy and I will take care of matters in town.” Adam stood to face his brother, “Hoss, I know you want to go, but please…Joe needs to have at least one of us here…just in case.” Adam’s words became softer as he voiced his fears. Adam placed his trembling hand on Hoss’ shoulder, “take care of him for me until I get back, please Hoss,” whispered Adam in a low voice so that only his brother could hear.

Hoss saw the pained expression that covered Adam’s face and not trusting his own voice he pressed his lips together firmly and nodded his head in agreement to his brother’s request.

Adam grabbed his side arm from the credenza and strapped it on. Next he reached for his hat and hurried to join Roy who had moved outside to wait for Hoss. Paul refused to leave Hoss alone with Joe, using the excuse that he wanted to keep the boy company while the others were in town waiting for whoever it might be that had sent the telegrams.

Adam stood with Roy at the back of the small crowd that had gathered to greet the stage and waited impatiently for the arrival of the man who had assumed his father’s identity.

For once the stage was on time and as the passengers made their descent, Adam watched each man as they exited the coach. The man he was waiting for was the last to climb down. Watching, Adam saw the silver headed man scan the remainder of the group of travelers and by-standers with his dark eyes. When the man found who he had been looking for, Adam observed the smile that spread widely across the older man’s face and noticed the excitement in the eyes when they locked with his own.

“Dear God in Heaven,” muttered Adam under his breath.

Quickly the man advanced on Adam and Roy and Adam felt his heart momentarily stop beating. The man was a mirror’s imagine of his father. When the man greeted him, Adam was too stunned at first to acknowledge the man’s presence.

“Adam, son. Am I ever glad to see you,” greeted the look-alike as he embraced his son. Slightly taken back by the younger man’s cool greeting, Ben pulled back and looked his son in the eye. “Adam?” he questioned. “What’s wrong son? Where are your brothers?” said Ben taking a step backward from Adam who turned icy eyes upon the man.

Without thinking about his actions, Adam grabbed the startled man by the front of the shirt and spun him around into the wall of the building where he held him with his back firmly pressed against the weathered wood.

“I don’t know who you are, mister,” started Adam pressing his face closer to the other man’s face, the long days and equally long sleepless nights of constant worry finally taking it’s toll on the exhausted younger Cartwright, “but my father, you are not.”

Ben struggled against the hands that held him tightly, “Adam, what in thunder are you talking about?” demanded Ben, his own temper beginning to show. “Roy, what is this all about?” questioned Ben looking in the sheriff’s direction perplexed by his son’s actions and harsh words.

“Adam, simmer down boy,” ordered Roy moving forward and pulling Adam’s hands from about Ben’s neck. “Lookit here mister, Ben Cartwright died a little over a month ago and…”

“What?” shouted Ben giving both the sheriff and Adam a look of total disbelief.

“You heard him,” declared Adam, “My brothers and I buried our father last month, next to his wife up at the lake. I don’t know what game you are playing, but I aim to find out.”

Ben was struck speechless and suddenly felt as if his legs were about to give out on him causing him to lower himself onto the bench behind him. Once he was sitting, he looked up into the face of the angry young man that stood over him glaring. Ben noticed the dark way in which the man’s eyes scrutinized him and silently thought that here was a force to be reckoned with. Finding his voice at last, Ben dared to speak.

“Son…Adam…I don’t know who you thought you buried, but it wasn’t your father, I am your father, and I have the papers here to prove it.” Ben dug deeply into his case and retrieved the papers he needed to prove to his confused son his true identity.

Adam snatched the papers from the man’s hands and scanned through them. Ben stood giving Roy a questioning look while Adam studied the documents. “Roy, where is Hoss and Little Joe?”

Before Roy had time to answer, Adam shoved the papers back into the man’s hands. “These are my father’s contracts, but you could have taken them from him before he returned home,” snapped Adam.

“Look Adam…” began Ben.

“No you look,” Adam grabbed the front of Ben’s shirt for the second time. “If you really are my father, and God I hope you are, then you tell me something that only you and I could possibly ever know,” growled Adam in a low voice. “You better make it quick or I’ll beat the hell out of you right here and now for what you have done to my family.” Adam gave the man another shove that caused him to fall backward onto the bench.

Ben stayed down, as mad as Adam appeared it would be in his best interest not to further anger the man. “What do you want to know?” asked Ben watching Adam pace back and forth in front of him. Ben could clearly see that his son was highly agitated and hurried on. “Your mother’s maiden name was Stoddard,” offered Ben.

Adam stopped in front of the man and glared down at him. “Too easy, anyone could have known that. You better think of something else and soon, my patience is running out mister.”

Ben closed his eyes and tried to think of something that only he and his sons might possible know. Suddenly it came to him and slowly he rose to face the younger man, bringing a halt to Adam’s pacing.

“Adam, do you remember when Joseph was twelve and those men kidnapped him, taking him all the way down into Mexico?” asked Ben.

Adam only nodded his head, “So, what of it? Again, everyone knew about that, hell we had the whole state looking for him, not to mention the army.”

“Yes, I know, but there was one thing that only the four of us knew, maybe Roy here knew. But it was something that Little Joe carried with him the entire time he was missing, something that your brother Hoss made for him right before he was taken. Do you remember what that something was?” questioned Ben hopefully.

Adam watched the expression on the older man’s face with skepticism. “I do, but the question is, do you?”

Ben smiled and nodded his head, “Yes, it was a small wooden whistle that Hoss had started to whittle for Joe but had not finished it before being kidnapped. Joe carried it in his boot the whole time that he was gone. After, when you found him and he was reunited with Hoss, he and Hoss sat in front of the campfire that first night and Hoss finished it for him.”

Ben watched as the color drained from his son’s face. “Pa,” whispered Adam, falling into his father’s arms and allowing his tears to now flow freely. “I can’t believe it, you really are alive,” wept Adam joyfully. “I’m sorry Pa, but I had to be sure…Joe needs you Pa, in the worst way,” cried Adam, struggling to regain control of him self.

“Adam, I understand. It’s all right, boy,” cried Ben, pleased that he had finally convinced his son of the truth. Pulling Adam back so that he could see his face Ben brushed away his son’s tears. “Adam, where are Hoss and Joe?”

Ben saw the concerned look that passed between his son and his friend. “What’s wrong Adam? Are Hoss and Joe okay? I can only imagine what they must be going through thinking I am dead.”

“Come on Pa, we need to get home. I’ll explain everything on the way, but we better hurry. Joe desperately needs to see you.” Adam grabbed his father’s things and tossed them into the back of the wagon as Ben climbed into the front. Quickly Adam joined his father and as soon as he was sitting, slapped the reins sharply against the horses’ rumps causing them to bolt forward.

On the ride to the ranch, Adam went into detail as to what had been taking place with both Hoss and Joe since the unexpected so-called death of their father. Adam explained how the death had affected his youngest brother and Adam watched his father’s face take on a solemn expression and then change to fear when he further explained that now the boy lay at death’s door. The tears that suddenly pooled in his father’s eyes and ran down his face did not go unnoticed by his son and Adam reached his arm around his father’s shoulders offering comfort to the worried parent.

“Pa, we have to make Joe understand somehow that it really is you. If we can reach him in time, maybe…maybe he’ll start fighting again,” said Adam hopefully thinking that with his father now home, Joe would be able to understand and turn from the brink of death.

“Hurry, Adam. I have to get to him,” encouraged Ben. Adam slapped the reins harder; the horses broke into a run carrying both father and son quickly home.

As soon as the horses stopped, Ben and Adam together jumped from the wagon and ran for the house. Hop Sing pulled the heavy door open just as Ben reached for the handle. Without stopping, Ben bolted for the stairs taking them two at time, Adam close on his heels. At the top, Paul who blocked their way stopped them.

“Paul?” Adam demanded, “Joe? He’s still…”

“Yes, but barely,” responded Paul before being gently pushed aside by Ben whose only concern now was to reach his dying son.

Hoss who sat on the bed holding tightly to Joe’s hand, quickly jumped to his feet the second he spotted his father and brother. “Adam?” Hoss coarsely whispered giving Ben the once over.

“It’s okay Hoss. He really is our father,” smiled Adam softly.

“Hello son,” greeted Ben giving Hoss a hug and then turning his attention to the boy on the bed.

“Oh sweet Jesus,” proclaimed Ben when his eyes fell on the deteriorated body of his youngest son. Ben could not believe that the boy lying in the bed was the same boy that he had bid good-bye to only a month earlier. Quickly Ben sat on the bed next to his son instantly pulling Joe up into a sitting position. Ben wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him forward onto his chest where he permitted his tears to slip silently down his face.

“Joseph, oh son. Please, sweetheart…open your eyes. Your papa’s here now,” pleaded Ben, using the boy’s nickname for himself that Joe had always used when addressing him as a small boy. Ben held Joe securely in his embrace rocking back and forth and rubbing the frail boy’s back as he had done many times in the past.

Paul slipped quietly into the room and placed his hand on Ben’s shoulder causing Ben to look into the physician’s face. “Talk to him Ben. Don’t stop. I know he can hear you but he needs to know that you are here and that you are most definitely alive and well. We need to make him understand so that he will begin to fight again,” cautioned Paul.

Ben returned Joe’s head to the pillow and pulled the covers around his chest. Sighing deeply and turning to the doctor Ben voiced his concerns. “Paul, how long has he been like this? Is he eating or drinking anything?”

Paul pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. “Ben, he’s been in and out like this for several days, but we haven’t been able to get him to eat anything for the last couple of days. We are having to force him to take liquids but even that is getting harder each time we try,” explained Paul to the concerned father. “Ben, it’s vital that you try to get through to him.”

“I understand Paul.” Ben returned his attention back to Joe and was surprised to find the boy had opened his eyes. “Joseph, Pa’s here now son. Can you look at me?” Ben gently turned Joe’s face to where they were facing one another. “Joe,” whispered Ben hoping that his son would focus on his face and silently prayed that the boy would recognize him. Joe stared blankly, not seeing the familiar face before him, and not noticing the tiny droplets of tears that had begun to roll down the face of his father.

Ben continued his steady stream of talking all through the day and evening hours. Adam and Hoss each took their turns when their father’s voice became too raspy for him to continue. Paul had made several attempts at spooning the much-needed liquids into Joe’s mouth, but each time the spoon touched the boy’s parched lips, Joe would turn his head to the side refusing the nourishment.

Hoss stood at the bedroom window watching as one of the hired hands tended the new calf that had been born earlier that week. The cow had died giving birth to the larger than normal calf and the new baby had survived by being fed from a bottle. Hoss watched as Hop Sing hurried across the yard with the mixture he had prepared for the baby and handed the bottle to the ranch hand. At the time that the calf had been born and the mother had died, Hoss had been worried that the calf would not last long without its mother’s milk. The doctor had explained to him that they could use a bottle with a nipple on it allowing the newborn to suckle from that. Hoss had tried for himself and had been amazed to find that the baby had caught on quickly to the makeshift teat of the bottle and once the sucking action had been set into motion, the new calf had flourished growing stronger as each day passed.

Looking over his shoulder and seeing that both his father and the doctor where failing miserably at spooning the liquid into Joe’s mouth and watching his brother tossing about on the bed, Hoss sighed deeply and returned to watching the calf enjoying his bottle.

“That’s it!” Hoss nearly shouted startling the room’s occupants. Before anyone had a chance to respond to his outburst, Hoss ran from the room leaving three confused men staring at his retreating back.

Several minutes later Hoss stood in the doorway a smile spreading from one side of his face to the other. Holding his hands behind his back, Hoss quietly stepped up to the foot of the bed and addressed the doctor.

“Hey Doc,” whispered Hoss getting the attention of the physician and his father whom were now attempting to feed Joe with a dropper. Adam moved closer and joined the others, curious as to what his middle brother was up to. The smile on his face puzzled him as not one man in the house had found much to smile about over the course of the last few days.

“Didn’t ya tell me after that new calf’s mama died that it would learn to suckle from a bottle if’n we tried? And didn’t ya say that sucking was a natural reflex?” questioned Hoss, his eyes shining with unspeakable joy.

“Yes, I remember telling you that. But why, what do are you thinking?” asked Paul, moving as Hoss closed the distance between the end of the bed where he stood and the men who stared with curiosity at him.

Giving the group a wide gapped tooth grin he brought the object he had been holding behind his back around to his front and held it up for all to see. “Then why cain’t Joe get his nourishment from a bottle if suckling is a natural reflex?”

Three pairs of eyes looked up at the large man and gasped loudly. Suddenly the room was filled with soft laughter and happy faces. “I never would have thought of that, Hoss,” answered the doctor, taking the bottle that Hop Sing had prepare for Joe and handing it to Ben.

“It’s worth a try Ben. At this point I would try anything if it means saving his life,” Paul stated moving to allow Ben to sit closer to his son.

“Pa, wait,” said Adam stepping forward. “I have an idea also.” Raising Joe gently into a sitting position and moving the pillows, he instructed his father to sit behind Joe and hold him where the boy’s ear rested above Ben’s beating heart.

“He knows the sound of your heart Pa. Maybe if he hears it steadily for awhile, he will understand that you are holding him and know that you are alive.” Turning to Hoss as Ben took his position on the bed behind Joe, Adam smiled. “Hoss, if this idea of yours works, we better not ever tell our little brother that he was bottle fed at this age, unless of course we can use it against him in the form of a friendly little blackmail scheme.”

Ben rested his head back against the pillows, Joe sleeping peacefully in his arms. Hoss’ idea to bottle feed the nourishment to his brother had worked. After several attempts Joe had finally allowed the nipple to be placed into his mouth and with that had taken the entire bottle. Paul was elated as was Joe’s family and suggested that Joe be given more every three hours. Ben once again took to talking in soft tones to the sleeping boy and when he tired, Adam and Hoss picked up where their father left off.

Near morning, Ben had had to forfeit his place on the bed. Sitting for such a long length of time and holding Joe in his arms the whole night had caused his muscles to cramp and the need to stretch had forced him into moving. Ben was pleased that Joe had taken the bottle each time that it had been offered to him, relieving all of them when the special formula that Hop Sing had kept prepared appeared to be giving Joe the strength his body craved.

Ben moved to the window and pulled back the heavy drapes. The morning sun was just beginning to peek above the mountaintop and Ben watched amazed at the beauty of the sunrise. Slowly the sun cast it’s rays about the world beneath, forming shadows from all angles as it slowly climbed higher in the sky until it’s bright light forced Ben to turn his head from window. Ben’s eyes swiftly took in the room; Adam sat on the bed’s edge, Joe’s hand held in his brother’s. Hoss dozed in the chair nearby; Paul had at sometime left the family to seek his rest elsewhere.

Joe stirred slightly turning his head in Ben’s direction and Ben watched as the eyes, heavy with sleep were forced open. Joe spotted his father standing in front of the window; the sun’s rays making it difficult to see anything but a shadow like figure, yet Joe sensed his father’s presence and knew that Ben was nearby.

“Pa?” the plea was extremely weak but music to the ears of the man for whom it was intended. Suddenly, the room came alive. Ben hurried to his son’s bedside, Adam who had been silently praying, opened his eyes only to find that Joe’s eyes were also opened and following every move that Ben made. Adam, who tapped his brother’s leg, startled Hoss from his slumber by the unexpected touch. Both brothers sat quietly as Ben leaned over their brother.

“Pa’s right here son,” Ben said softly taking Joe’s hand into his and bringing it to his lips where he placed a kiss to the boy’s open palm. “Welcome back Joseph,” he smiled.

“Pa, you’re not dead are you?” asked the disconcerted boy in a nearly inaudible whisper.

“No Joseph, I’m very much alive. And so are you, thank God.” Ben leaned over and kissed Joe’s brow.

Joe’s eyes closed once more as his father’s lips brushed against his forehead. “I love you, Pa.” The statement was barely loud enough to be heard but Ben heard and the words brought instant tears of joy to his dark eyes.

Ben rose; pleased that his son had somehow beaten the odds that had forced him to choose between life and death. Moving again to the window, Ben saw that the sun had fully risen in the sky, making the world outside to shine in it’s blazing glory. Ben picked up the Bible that had been placed on the table next to the window and opened it at random. He allowed his misty eyes to read the first words that they fell upon and smiled at the message that God gave to him that bright sunny June morning that promised him that Joe’s life was not yet over. Thanking God for the miracle He had bestowed upon his family, Ben read again God’s words noting the book and chapter his fingers had found.

Psalms 30:5

For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favor is life:

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning

“Yes, thank you God, my joy did come this morning, the minute my son called for me.” Ben placed the bible back on the table and moved to the bed where he sat next to Joe who slept soundly.

“Adam, Hoss,” said Ben softly so as not to wake Joe. “It had to be Dillon McPherson. You remember him don’t you?” asked Ben turning to watch the expressions on his son’s faces.

“How could we ever forget?” Hoss shook his head. “After what he did to us the last time. But Pa, I thought he got shot.”

“He was shot Hoss, but when Roy took his men back to get the body, the body was gone. It was never found so we only supposed that somehow McPherson had only been wounded and had managed to get away. That was ten years ago and there’s never been a word about him, nor has he been seen since,” explained Ben.

“But if it was Dillon, how did he know that you were going to have business in San Francisco last month?” questioned Adam studying his father’s face as Ben watched Joe sleep.

Adam smiled to himself as Ben brushed back a wayward curl that had fallen out of place and onto Joe’s brow wondering how many times in his brother’s life had he seen his father place that same curl back into place.

Unaware that he was being watched, Ben caressed Joe’s cheek. Ben sighed; he had come closest to losing the boy this time than ever before and the need to be close to him, to touch him was comforting to his weary heart.

“How does that man know anything about what I do? It beats me Adam. The first thing I am going to do as soon as I know for sure that Joseph is going to be all right is to have that man’s body dug up and moved from beside my wife. We can check then to be sure it was Dillon McPherson and if it was, well…hey, we need never worry about him bothering us again,” stated Ben firmly giving a serious nod of his head to both of his sons.

Much to the delight of his family, Joe improved everyday. His only problem now, or Ben’s problem, depending on whose side one might be one, was keeping Ben within eyesight. Each time that Ben excused himself from Joe’s bedside, it would take only minutes before Joe became agitated to the point of trying to crawl from his sickbed to go in search of his father. At those times it took one or the other, sometimes both of his brothers to keep him in the bed.

“Why can’t I get up?” complained Joe during one of those times.

“Cause ya ain’t well ‘nough yet Short Shanks. And besides, Pa told ya to stay put, and I aim to see that ya do. Now git them skinny little legs of yourn back under that cover afore I have to do it myself,” ordered Hoss holding up the blankets so that Joe could settle himself back in bed.

“Oh all right big brother. I just wish Pa would hurry, I don’t like it when he stays gone so long,” said Joe giving his big brother a look that said it all.

Hoss ruffled Joe’s curls and sat down on the bed next to the boy. “I know Joe, but he and Adam went with Sheriff Coffee up to the grave. They’s ameetin’ the undertaker this afternoon to have that man’s body moved. He’ll be back as soon as he can,” explained Hoss seeing the tears that were glistening in Joe’s eyes and knowing the fear that Joe felt when their father was away from them. Hoss didn’t say as much, but he too felt the pangs of fear at Ben’s absence always half-expecting bad news to return instead of the man that they called Pa.

Joe was silent for several minutes before speaking. “He sure looked like Pa didn’t he?” asked Joe nervously remembering the man who ten years earlier had caused his family a wagon load of misery.

“Yeah Punkin, I guess he did. He sure ‘nough fooled us,” answered Hoss watching Joe’s face.

“I’m glad he’s dead Hoss. I mean, I’m glad it wasn’t Pa and that whoever that man was, he won’t be able to hurt us again.” Joe turned sad eyes up at Hoss. “I’m sorry Hoss, I’ve been wanting to tell you that before now.”

Hoss looked surprised, “Sorry Joe? About what?”

Joe hung his head, “for worrying you and Adam like I did. I didn’t do it on purpose, honest. It’s just that…I can’t explain it Hoss. It felt like my heart had been ripped right out of my chest and tossed over a cliff somewhere. I felt like I was lost and couldn’t find my way back,” explained Joe, the tears forming in his eyes again.

“I heard you calling for me, you and Adam both and I wanted to answer you but I couldn’t. Hoss you gotta believe me, I wasn’t trying to die on purpose. I just couldn’t find the courage not to. I guess I thought it would hurt me less if I didn’t have to face up to the fact that Pa was gone. That was wrong cause it ended up hurting everyone else, even Pa. And the worst part is knowing that someday, I really am going to have to face up to the fact that Pa will be gone. I’m sorry Hoss, I never meant to hurt you,” cried Joe the tears slowly slipping downward.

Hoss leaned over, wrapped his arms around his brother and hugged him tightly. “It’s okay Short Shanks, at times I felt the same way. We jest gotta remember that dyin’ is part of livin’ and it’s somethin’ we’re all gonna havta do some time or another.”

“I know, I just hope it’s a long, long time from now,” smiled Joe releasing his brother.

Hoss returned the smile and stood from the bed, “How’s about me beatin’ ya at a game of checkers?”

“You beat me? Not on your life, get the board and I’ll show you who can play checkers,” giggled Little Joe while he tossed a pillow at Hoss as he headed out the door in search of the game.

Ben and Adam returned before nightfall with the news that the body buried next to Marie had indeed been that of Dillon McPherson. Paul Martin who examined the body and found the scar where Dillon had been shot during the shoot out ten years earlier had confirmed that fact.

Roy Coffee had accompanied the group of men to the gravesite. Having determined the true identity of the corpse, Roy ordered that the man’s coffin be taken to the Virginia City cemetery for reburial where the next day Dillon McPherson was laid to rest for the second and final time.

Day by day, Joe’s health improved and with each day a greater love for his family, respect for life and the values he placed on each matured Joe Cartwright into the man that his father had always known he would one day become. No one ever again spoke of Joe’s bottle feeding, the family having deciding to save that story for future generations or on a rare chance that someone a hundred or more years later would decide to bring the subject up again in the form of fan fiction.

THE END

February 2002

*Dillon McPherson is a character created by Jennie A. in her story, ‘In My Father’s Image’. Thanks Jennie for letting me use him one more time before putting him to rest forever and ever! We hope.

*Reference to twelve-year old Joe’s kidnapping to Mexico referred to Jennie A’s story, ‘A Cry for Freedom’. Thanks again Jennie! Read them both in the library!

Any methods available were used to push liquids into comatose patients in the 1800’s. When being spoon-fed failed, droppers were tried and later bottle-feeding, which was another way in which nourishment was forced into the patient, according to Hoss. Who, by the way, thought if it were good enough for the orphaned calf, it should be good enough to save the life of his beloved baby brother. So please, don’t laugh me out of the library after reading that Joe took the bottle at age 18! Besides, no one ever knew until now!

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