By Debbie B
Ben
stepped to the door and opened the heavy wooden structure wide, staring out
into the yard. From across the room,
Adam and Hoss stood in front of the massive stone fireplace watching their
father. Guest milled around the great
room, swapping pleasantries with one another as they waited the arrival of the
honoree. The small band that had set up
in front of the gun case had stopped playing over half an hour ago and had now
helped themselves to the punch.
Ben
closed the door, a scowl deepening the fine lines that creased his brow. His eyes caught those of his oldest son’s and
held their gaze for several moments.
Adam could see that the anger that had been present not more than an
hour ago had vanished and had been replaced with worry. Adam watched as his father’s eyes swept the
room as if they were expecting to see the boy for whom the celebration was
being given. When they failed to locate
the subject, the dark chocolate eyes found Adam’s once again and then the blue
eyes of his middle son.
Adam
nudged Hoss and motioned silently for the big man to follow him. Together, the two brothers walked casually
across the room and joined their father on the opposite side.
“Do
you want us to saddle up and go look for him?” Adam asked softly.
Ben
stared, wide-eyed into his son’s face and shook his head. “Let’s give him just a few more minutes,
surely he’ll be here by then. I can’t
imagine what has held him up, after all, he knew this party was for him. How many times does a man turn twenty-one?”
whispered Ben, going to the door for what seemed like to the brothers, the
hundredth time that evening.
“He
sure ‘nough has been actin’ strange the last few days. Reckon that has anythin’ to do with his being
late for his own party?” Hoss questioned as he peeked over his father’s
shoulder into the darkness outside.
Ben
turned with a surprised expression on his face as he looked at Hoss. “I’m not sure son, it did seem as if Joseph
had something on his mind, but he never said anything to me about it and I
didn’t think to question him. Did he
happen to say anything to either of you?”
Adam
and Hoss both shook their heads no. “I
know he was excited about this here party.
It’s all he talked about yesterday when we were roundin’ up those
steers,” offered Hoss. Adam nodded his
head in support of his brother’s statement.
Ben
smiled at a guest as they walked by and then turned his attention back to his
sons. “I’m getting worried about him, I know
he said there was something important that he had to take care of, but he
promised to be home in plenty of time to get ready for the party,” muttered
Ben.
A
soft rapping on the front door caused all three Cartwrights to glance at one
another. “Probably another guest,”
whispered Ben as he reached for the handle, ready to welcome whomever it might
be.
Ben
smiled when he spied his best friend, Roy Coffee, standing in the doorway. “
“He’s
not here yet,” Adam explained.
“No,
and I’m getting a little worried about him.
You didn’t happen to see him in town this evening, did you?” Ben
questioned.
“I’ll
get it,” Adam volunteered and then grabbed the door.
“Clem,”
Adam smiled.
Clem
removed his hat and greeted his friend.
“Sorry to bother you, but I need to speak with
“Sure,
come on in,
Clem
greeted the other Cartwrights and then pulled
Ben
looked from one to the another and then read the note. Adam watched as the color drained from Ben’s
face, leaving his father with a white, ghost like appearance.
“What
is it Pa?” asked Adam taking the message from his father’s trembling hands and
reading it aloud.
TERRITORIAL
PRISON
To
inform you of the release of one, Lucas Tatum…Stop
And
one, Timothy Chase…Stop
Wednesday,
of this week…Stop
Adam
folded the paper in half and glanced again at his father. “What do you think this means?”
“I
wish I knew,” Ben said, the worry evident in the tone of his voice. “Wednesday, that gives those two plenty of
time to get to
“I
still don’t like it,” Ben muttered and then was forced into a conversation with
some of his guest.
Hoss
poked Adam in the ribs and slipped out, unnoticed. Adam glanced over his shoulder to be sure
they were not seen and then followed Hoss outside and into the moonlight.
“I
think we better go look for the kid, Adam.
My gut tells me that somethin’s wrong,” Hoss said in a soft voice. “Joe wouldn’t miss his own birthday party,
not unless somethin’ happened to him.”
“I
agree, but what? I’m like
Hoss
followed Adam into the barn, “Nope, not a word.
I did notice that he crammed somethin’ into his saddlebag though, as he
was mountin’ up.”
“Well,
that won’t help us any. Let’s start in
town and see if anyone there has seen him this afternoon or perhaps earlier
this evening,” suggested Adam as he mounted his horse.
The
bearded man shoved the young handsome man into the cell. The chains that were attached to the man’s wrist
and ankles clattered noisily as he stumbled forward, nearly falling to his
knees. The bearded man jabbed his thick
wooden walking cane into the chained man’s back.
“Step
it up a mite,” he growled in a menacing tone.
The
young man cast his eyes over his shoulders at the man behind him and silently
cursed the dirty bearded man.
“Put
the collar on’em,” he ordered his companion, pointing to the thick iron neck
collar that hung on a ring, which had been hammered into the thick rock wall.
The
young man’s deep-set hazel eyes widened in fear when the other man grasped the
iron collar and started toward him. Joe
Cartwright stepped backward, trying to avoid the hands that attempted to affix
the slave-ware around his neck.
“You
can’t put that thing on me,” shouted Joe, as he stumbled backward. The shackles around his ankles made it
impossible for him to move with any speed at all.
“On
your knees, Cartwright,” the bearded man barked out his order.
Joe
refused to lower himself and stood rock still.
The sudden movement of the bearded man caught Joe off guard as the thick
cane walloped him across the backs of his legs, just in the bend behind the
knees and knocked Joe to the ground. Joe
groaned loudly as he fought to get up, but with his wrists chained so closely
to his waist, it was impossible to do so.
The
second man dropped to the ground next to Joe and though Joe fought with all
that he could, soon the iron collar had been locked into place.
“Help
him on his feet,” snapped the bearded man.
Joe
was hauled unceremoniously to his feet and forced to face the bearded man. “Stand still,” growled his attendant.
Joe
stopped struggling; figuring that to fight now was useless. “Who are you and what do you want with me?”
Joe demanded.
The
man thumped his cane on the solid rock floor and paced back and forth in front
of the youngest Cartwright. “You
disappoint me Joe. You don’t even
remember me, do you?”
Joe
studied his jailer’s face for several moments.
It was hard to tell just what the man looked like; the beard was so
thick on his face that the man’s features were hidden behind the bristles of
his beard. The man’s eyes were sky blue,
but held a mixture of hate and doom in their depths. His captor walked with a limp, carried a
thick wooden cane and tapped it along as he continued to pace back and forth in
front of his prisoner. The man’s voice
sounded somewhat familiar to him, but still, Joe could not recall having ever
known the man before.
Lucas
scowled at Joe and stopped in front of the younger man. “Put the chain on the collar and take up the
slack,” he ordered the other man.
Timmy
grabbed the chain that was attached to a long steel spike hammered deeply into
the thick rock wall. On the collar was a
round ring that the chain was slipped through and then locked onto the short
length of chain that separated Joe’s wrist.
Joe watched in horror, frightened of being chained and caged like an
animal, but refusing to let these depraved men see how frightened he really
was.
The
second man ran the length of chain through two more rings affixed into the rock
wall and then pulled through a narrow opening that had been chiseled into the
rock. On the other side of where a heavy
iron door had been installed, a thick iron lock, making the chain adjustable
from the outside of Joe’s iron and rock prison cell locked the chain into
place. Joe’s wrists were pulled upward
and held into place next to the ring on the collar, making a very uncomfortable
position for the frightened boy to be in, and rendering him virtually helpless
to anything that the pair of jailers wanted to do to him.
Joe’s
breathing was rapid, his chest burned with the effort and he felt his heart
pounding hard, deep within his chest cavity.
“Are you going to tell me who you are and why you are doing this to me?”
he tried to mask the fear in his voice and hoped that the pair would not be
able to see the way in which his body trembled.
“Did
ya hear that, Tim, Cartwright still ain’t figured out who we are!” laughed
Lucas.
Lucas
leaned his face within inches of Joe’s.
Joe’s body had been forced against the cold rock wall by the shortening
of his chain. He could do nothing to
move his head and free his face from the offending breath of the man who was,
but inches from him.
The
man tapped his cane on the floor several times, the sound unnerving the
prisoner and echoing in the hollow room.
“The name’s, Tatum, Lucas Tatum,” snarled Lucas. He tipped his head at his friend, “that’s Tim
Chase,” Lucas sneered and then tossed back his head and laughed at the haunted
look that crossed Joe’s young face as the color suddenly drained from the
frightened features.
Raw
fear filled the hazel eyes that threatened to fill with tears as Joe stared
into the face of his former classmate.
Joe could not believe his eyes, for the years had changed the other boy,
now a young man of twenty-three. Lucas
looked at least ten years older than he actually was, the beard was coated with
gray, a scar just above the man’s right eye traveled downward across the right
cheek of Lucas’ face, gave Lucas a grotesque expression to his once handsome
features. No wonder Joe hadn’t been able
to recognize the man.
“I
thought you said once, that you were not afraid of me…but guess that was a lie,
cause I can see the fear in your eyes right now. In fact, I can smell the fear seeping from
every pore in your body,” taunted Lucas.
“And it’s justified, Cartwright.
You will soon fear me more than the devil himself. I promised ya, I’d get even with ya, and ya
know I keep my promises, don’t ya?”
Joe
swallowed the knot that had suddenly grown in his throat and tried to turn his
eyes away from the piercing blue eyes that scrutinized him. The action fueled the other man’s hatred.
“When
I was in prison, we were forced to look eye to eye to our guards, I expect you
to do the same thing, Cartwright. Ya got
five years to learn who is boss around here, and that’s me. Now look at me!” Lucas demanded.
Joe
gritted his teeth and refused to turn his eyes to face Lucas. Lucas only laughed and then Joe felt the
stabbing pain to his middle as Lucas jabbed the end of his cane deeply into
Joe’s stomach. Joe’s knees buckled
beneath him but the thick iron collar made it impossible for him to fall or
bend over, giving in to the pain. Tears
stung his eyes, but he refused to let them to roll free as he squeezed his eyes
tightly and clenched his teeth against the agony of the assault.
“Look
at me when I speak to ya,” Lucas ordered a second time.
This
time, Joe turned his eyes so that he was looking directly into the eyes of his
tormentor. “Five years, Cartwright,
that’s what it’s gonna cost ya, just like it cost us,” sneered Lucas.
“Scares
ya too, don’t it? I know what ya
thinkin’, that your family will find ya and save ya ass…but it won’t work this time,
cause no one, not even God, knows where we’re at,” laughed Lucas. “I’m gonna make ya pay Little Joe, just like
I promised ya I would. Ya gonna die in
this here cage, with them chains around ya neck and it’s gonna be slow and
painful. I plan on makin’ ya suffer,
just like Tim and I did.”
Lucas
backed up a step or two and turned his back to the chained man. “See this here leg? They broke my leg Cartwright, hurt like hell,
too. They never even let me see the
doctor to have it set…made me a cripple…”
Lucas
began thumping his cane on the floor.
His eyes seemed to glaze over and Joe could feel the hatred emitting
from the man’s trembling body.
Joe
shivered as he watched the transformation take over Lucas’ body. Joe jumped when Lucas screamed out in
frustration and twirled back around to face him. “I’m gonna do the same to you, Joe
Cartwright. I’m gonna make ya a cripple,
just like me, but ya ain’t gonna know when it’ll happen. It’s gonna be a surprise!”
“What
do ya make of them promises, Cartwright?
Ya shakin’ real bad. Lookit here
Tim, the high and might Joe Cartwright’s afeared of me!” Lucas’ wicked laughter filled the room and
Joe turned his head away to keep from watching the evil expressions on the
man’s face.
“Say
it Cartwright…let’s hear ya say…I’m afeared of Lucas Tatum,” the man demanded.
When
Joe refused to acknowledge the statement, Lucas began thumping his heavy
cane. Joe chanced a glance at the
depraved man and could hardly believe his eyes.
The blue eyes had turned red and Joe suddenly felt as if he were in
hell, standing before the devil himself.
Without
warning, Lucas’ hand lashed out and struck Joe hard against his cheek. Joe’s head snapped backward, hitting the hard
rock behind him. He tasted the blood in
his mouth where his teeth had bitten into the tender flesh inside his
mouth. Joe swallowed several times and
glared at Lucas with hate burning in his eyes.
“Answer
me when I ask you a question,” yelled Lucas, the thumping of his cane getting
louder as his anger grew.
“Go
to hell,” muttered Joe through clenched teeth.
His
statement only served to anger Lucas more and using his opened hand, Lucas left
his mark on the face of his captive. Joe
was powerless to defend himself against the attack as Lucas rained his fury
against the tender flesh of Joe’s face.
When
Lucas had finished, Joe’s face was marred by the handprint that left their
brand on the fiery flesh of Joe’s cheeks.
Tiny droplets of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Lucas
grabbed a handful of Joe’s dark curls and yanked his head upward.
“Tsk,
tsk, tsk,” whispered Lucas. “Such a bad
boy…but you’ll learn. Just stand there
for a day or two, and you’ll soon learn to be a good boy, Cartwright.” Lucas released the dark curls, allowing Joe’s
head to drop as far as the wide iron collar would permit.
Lucas
motioned for Tim to follow him and together, they left the cell. The thick iron door was pulled shut and a
large iron lock sealed shut the door.
The light was extinguished, and the pair strolled away to the outside of
the cave that was now home to the youngest Cartwright.
Joe
waited until he was sure that his tormentors were gone before he opened his
eyes. The room was dark, not a sliver of
light could be found and it took Joe’s eyes several minutes before they became
accustomed enough to be able to see through the darkness. Joe felt his body shiver as the cold, solid
rock pressed into his back. He needed to
sit down, but the collar with the chain pulled tightly would not permit him to
do so. His arms ached from having been
pulled upward, close to his neck and made stationary. His ankles burned where the shackles had
rubbed against the flesh of his legs, leaving a burning sensation about his
ankles.
Suddenly,
Joe’s hazel eyes filled with tears. It
was his birthday, his twenty-first birthday to be exact, and here he was,
locked away in a make shift cell someplace where only God knew the location. Though he tried to stop them, the tears
rolled slowly down his burning cheeks.
At home, Joe knew that his father and brothers were waiting for
him. They had planned a big celebration
in his honor, a birthday party to celebrate his special day. His family had planned for weeks just for
this night, and now, without a doubt, Joe would miss the celebration. Joe wondered if his family had begun to
search for him, knowing in his heart that before they realized that he was
missing, his father would flume for several hours about his being late to his
own party.
“I’m
sorry, Pa,” whispered Joe to the darkness as he struggled against the chains
that held him in their cold grasp.
Eventually, Joe tired of his battle and leaned his weary body against
the rigid walls of his rock prison.
“Sorry,
Adam, but I ain’t seen Little Joe since…hmm…night before last. Wednesday, I think it was. He came by here on his way home. He seemed a little put out about somethin’,
don’t know what though. I didn’t ask
him, he just ordered a beer and then left without so much as a thank ya,” Bruno
explained to the pair of Cartwright brothers.
“Want
another, beer?” he asked and then poured one when Hoss nodded his head yes.
“Got
any ideay where he could’ve gone, Adam?” Hoss pondered out loud. He downed his beer and when he placed the mug
on the counter, it clanged slightly.
Adam
had his back to the bar, watching the crowded room for any of his younger
brother’s friends. Adam shook his
head. “Nope. I wonder where everyone is
tonight?” Adam said, more to himself than to his brother.
Hoss
glanced over at Adam and shrugged his shoulders. “Probably out at the Ponderosa waiting for
Little Joe. Come on Adam, we might as
well head on back, Joe for sure ain’t in here.
Maybe he’s already home.”
Hoss
pushed his tall hat down on his head and jerked his pants back up to his waist,
for they tended to slide downward at times.
Adam snickered, amused at his brother’s gestures and followed the bigger
man from the barroom.
As
Adam unwrapped his mount’s reins from the hitching post, he sighed deeply. “If Joe’s not got a very good reason for
worrying Pa, he sure is going to be in a lot of trouble.”
Hoss,
who had already mounted up, turned Chubb around so that he could face his
brother. “I sure ‘nough don’t wanna be
around when Pa starts his shoutin’. Man,
last time he got started, he rattled the winders in the entire house,” laughed
Hoss.
“I
don’t know, Hoss. I’m getting worried
about that baby brother of ours.
Something’s not right, we should have heard from him by now,” Adam mused
aloud.
“Yeah,
well, you know Joe…most times he forgets where he’s suppose to be and when he’s
suppose to be there. If’n he’s found a
pretty little gal somewhere, he’s most likely havin’ himself a private little
party,” laughed Hoss.
“Joe? You can’t be serious Hoss, Joe might think
he’s a lady’s man, but in truth, I doubt seriously if he’d know what to do with
a real woman,” joked Adam. “You saw the
way he nearly panicked the other night when Belle down at the Bucket of Blood
tried to lure him upstairs with her!”
Hoss
couldn’t help but laugh out loud too.
“Aw Adam, Belle’s gotta be at least forty years old! I’d a panicked too if’n she’d tried to drag
me up them stairs with her!”
Adam
snickered and shook his head and then just as quickly turned serious. “Hoss, Belle isn’t as old as you think, and
she’s not as bad as people make her out to be.
She’s a nice lady, and not too bad looking either, when she washes all
that paint off her face.”
Hoss
stared in shock at his older brother.
“And just how would you know?
When have ya seen her without her…paint?” quizzed Hoss as he studied his
brother’s expressions.
Adam
just turned his dark eyes toward his brother and smiled. “Now Hoss, I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I
were to tell all of the lady’s secrets, now would I?”
Hoss
pulled back on the reins and grabbed Adam by the arm, forcing his brother to
stop as well. “Ya been up to her room,
ain’t ya big brother?” Hoss smiled
shyly, the gap between his front teeth clearly seen in the glow of the street
lantern. “Tell me Adam, is she as good
as the men say she is?” he whispered as he cut his eyes around to be sure that
no one else heard him ask the question.
Adam
couldn’t help but to laugh at the expression on Hoss’ rotund face. “Better,” whispered Adam and then nudged
Sport into a canter.
By
the time that Adam and Hoss had returned to the ranch, Ben had sent his guest
home. Hop Sing was standing in a chair
taking down the Chinese lanterns that he had hung earlier in the day. He was angry; it was plain to see by the dark
fire that burned in his eyes. Neither
brother had to ask why or at whom the little Chinaman’s anger was directed,
they both knew. Hop Sing continued to
work and mutter in his own strange language as Adam and Hoss proceeded to the
house.
Ben
was standing in front of the fireplace, jabbing at the dying embers with the
poker. At the sound of the door opening,
he turned and glared at his two sons.
“Just
where in blazes have the two of you been?
Don’t you realize that you left me here, alone mind you, with a whole
roomful of people demanding to know where Joe was and then when they realized
that the two of you were missing as well, they all began shouting at me?”
ranted Ben.
“Answer
my question!” he snapped, leaving no margin of doubt to his sons that he was
very angry and worried.
“We
went into town to see if we could find Joe,” explained Adam.
Ben
seemed to calm, “Well? Did you find
him?”
“Nosir,”
Hoss replied. “Ain’t no one seen hide
nor hair of him.”
Ben
brushed his hand across the front of this face and then looked again at his
sons. “He’s got to be somewhere…we just
have to figure out where.”
It
had been too many hours since Lucas and Timmy had left their prisoner alone in
his dark cell. The hunger pains gnawed at
his insides, making his stomach growl and the pounding pain in his head nearly
blinded him. Joe’s mouth was dried out
and he longed for a drink of cool water.
His legs had grown weak from supporting his body and his knees had
folded slightly, adding to the pressure of the iron collar around his neck that
now supported the majority of his weight.
The
iron door squeaked as it was pulled opened.
The lantern, held high over Timmy’s head, shed its bright light into the
darkened cell and caused Joe to have to squint his eyes to keep from being
blinded by the brilliant glow. Lucas and
Timmy entered the room and stood silently, observing their captive for several
moments before either of them spoke.
“Wa…ter,” Joe forced the word up from the back of his throat as he strained to see the faces of the ones who held him chained against the rock wall.
“What
was that?” asked Lucas, an evil smile spreading across his face. “Water?
Is that what ya said?”
“Plea…se”
stammered Joe.
“Did
ya hear that, Tim? Cartwright’s all
ready learnin’ some manners. Think we
gotta give him a drink?” taunted Lucas as he jabbed the end of his cane into
Joe’s already aching stomach.
Timmy
just smiled but said nothing; he was watching the hazel eyes that were trying
to focus on his face. Something in the
way that they stared at him unnerved him.
“Yeah, why not?” he answered at long last.
Lucas
jerked his head around and looked at his helper. “Naw, not just yet. Little Joe has to tell me something first,
don’t ya Joe,” Lucas said as he returned his attention to the young man who was
practically dangling by his neck chain.
“Can
ya say, ‘I’m afeared of ya, Lucas’…can ya say that Cartwright? Just once, and I’ll let ya have a drink of
this nice cold water.” Lucas pulled the
cork from the canteen he was holding and gently tipped the spout upward and
watched Joe’s eyes widen as the precious water trickled onto the hard rock
floor.
“Just
say those words…and the canteen’s all yours,” smirked Lucas as he replaced the
cork.
Joe
licked his lips, the water looked too good to be true. Joe felt the scabs that had formed on his
chapped lips and longed for a taste of the canteen’s contents. Lucas laughed and jabbed his cane at Joe a
second time.
“Come
on Cartwright, it ain’t gonna kill ya to admit it,” laughed Lucas. “Either say it, or I pour the water out on
the ground,” Lucas tempted.
Joe
watched Lucas’ expression and felt the hate growing in his heart. “I should…have killed you…when I had
the…chance,” cursed Joe, his voice dry and cracked as he forced his thoughts
into words.
Lucas’
laughter faded and he glared at Joe. He
yanked on the cork and turned the canteen upright, allowing the water to spill
onto the floor. His eyes never left
Joe’s face and when he saw the beginnings of tears forming in his former
classmate’s eyes, he began laughing hysterically. He stepped up to within inches of Joe’s
face. Joe could feel the man’s spittle
as he spoke.
“Ya
ain’t so high and mighty now are ya, Little Joe?”
“Bastard,”
whispered Joe, which earned him several punches to his face.
The
blood spewed from his nose as Lucas repeatedly hammered away at Joe. When the furious man tired of Joe’s face, he
turned his wrath to Joe’s stomach where he delivered several jabs with his fist. Joe tried to twist his body away from the
assault but in so doing, one hard punch hit him in his lower back, knocking the
wind from his lungs. Joe screamed in
agony and then succumbed to the pain as he lost contact with the world around
him.
“We’ve
covered nearly every inch of this ranch, Pa, and still haven’t found a trace of
him,” Adam said as he tipped his canteen upward and allowed the cool water to
empty into his mouth. When he had
satisfied his thirst, he punched the cork back into the spout and laced the
strap around his saddle horn. He then
lifted his hat from his head and swiped his sleeve across this brow to wipe
away the droplets of sweat.
Ben
sat staring off into the distance and slowly circled, with his eyes, the
surrounding area. Hoss and Adam could
see the intense fear that had taken residence in their father’s eyes and knew
that Ben was grieving for his youngest son.
It had been three days since Joe’s birthday party that he had failed to
attend; three days of worry, searching and praying. It was as if the boy had dropped off the face
of the earth, for there was no sign of Joe, no word from anyone in regards to
his whereabouts. What were they to
think? Had Joe met with an accident in
some remote section of the ranch where he might have lain, hurt, or wounded,
until death had claimed him? Ben had
even thought that perhaps his youngest son might have been kidnapped, but that
was ruled out after the second day when no word had been sent to them asking
for a cash settlement.
“Pa?”
Adam said gently. “Pa?” he repeated when
his father failed to acknowledge him.
“I’m
sorry Adam, I guess my mind was somewhere else,” Ben said softly, the sadness
in his voice and in his expression visible for all to see. “I was thinking about…your…brother.”
“Pa,
why don’t we call it a day, it’s getting late.
Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” suggested Adam.
Ben
was worn out and Adam knew that he needed rest, but doubted seriously that his
father would call off his search for the missing boy for more than an hour or
two.
“All
right son. We best be getting back to
the ranch. Maybe Hoss had found
something,” Ben agreed as he turned his horse back toward the house. “It’s nearly supper time anyway, we can eat
and rest up a bit and then look a while longer, at least until nightfall.”
Adam
refrained from answering his father’s statement and instead turned his horse
around and followed his father back to the ranch.
It
was with great surprise that met the anxious father’s eyes when he rode into
the yard to find his youngest son’s pinto standing at the hitching rail.
“Adam!”
Ben nearly shouted as he jumped down from his mount and rushed to the pinto’s
side.
Just
then the door to his home opened and Hoss hurried to join his father. His look was grave as he greeted his
family. “It ain’t what’cha think Pa,”
Hoss started to explain but stopped, seeing the glimmer of hope reflecting back
at him from the pair of chocolate eyes.
“It’
not?” Ben said in a whispered voice.
Hoss
pinched his lips tightly together and shook his head. “Nosir, his horse came in about half and hour
ago…alone. I’m sorry Pa,” Hoss forced
out his words. “I know what ya were
thinkin’.”
Ben,
who had been standing with his hands on Joe’s horse, drew in a deep breath and
let it out slowly. For a moment he was
speechless.
“Did
you check him over real good?” he asked Hoss at last.
“Yessir,
he was clean, no sign of anythin’,” answered Hoss.
Adam
came around to join his father and brother and unlaced the flap to Joe’s
saddlebag. “Did you check in here? You said something the other day about seeing
him stuff something into them?”
“Lordy,
Adam, I plum forgot,” Hoss stated, his voice sounding his excitement.
Both
Ben and Hoss waited as Adam rummaged through the contents. “Nothing,” he told them, “except this wadded
up paper,” sighed Adam as he unruffled the paper.
“Dadburnit,”
groaned Hoss, “I was ahopin’ we’d find somethin’ that might help us.”
Ben
placed his hand on Hoss’ shoulder in a gesture of comfort and turned toward the
house. “Come on boys, we’ll all feel
better after we eat.”
“Pa,
wait a minute,” called Adam, studying the paper. “Take a look at this, wonder what it means?”
he said as he handed the paper to his father.
Ben
glanced at Adam and then Hoss, took the paper from his son and scanned the
scribbled words on the paper.
‘See ya
soon, Cartwright.’
Ben
looked again into the faces of his sons, puzzlement written all over his own
face. “I have no idea,” he stammered.
Adam
pulled a second scrape of paper from his brother’s saddlebag and unfolded it.
“Look, this one says, ‘Watch
ya back, Cartwright’.” Adam handed the second paper
to his father and waited until Ben had read the short message for himself.
“This sounds like some sort of threat or warning, are there any more?” Ben asked and then waited until Adam checked the other side of the saddlebag.
“One
more, but that’s all,” Adam said and began to undo the tiny ball of paper
before handing it to his father.