First
Notch
By
Debbie B
Joe
Cartwright strapped on his new holster that housed his equally new Colt
.45. The side arm and hardware had been
a special birthday present from his father on the day that he had turned
seventeen. Joe grabbed his hat as soon
as he finished tying down the thin rawhide string that held the pistol and
holster snugly to his left leg.
As
he turned toward the door, the door suddenly opened, almost hitting his
nose.
“Hey,”
he snapped and grabbed the door to peer around to see who had almost flattened
his face.
“Oh
sorry, little buddy, I didn’t know you were hiding behind the door,” laughed
Adam softly.
“Ha,
ha, ha,” mimicked Joe as he came around the door and tried to scoot past his
oldest brother.
Adam
blocked the doorway, giving Joe the once over with his eyes. He instantly spotted the sidearm and he
quickly raised his head to peer into his brother’s hazel eyes. Adam nodded his head toward Joe’s gun.
“Where
are you heading off to with that thing on?” he quizzed the boy while his eyes
grew dark with suspicion.
“Out,”
Joe snapped and tried to worm his way past Adam, but Adam, being almost twice
his younger brother’s size, hadn’t been as easy to nudge aside as Joe had thought.
“I
figured that, I meant, where are you going?
You know Pa doesn’t want you to wear that thing into town, at least not
just yet,” Adam reminded his brother.
“I
know that, I don’t need you to remind me.
And…for your information, I’m just going out to check the fences in the
north pasture. AND…before you ask, yes,
Pa knows that I’m wearing it, he said it was alright. Now…if you will kindly move, I’ll be on my
way.”
Joe
gave Adam a small crooked smile that was meant to say, ‘Ha…I guess I’ve told
you!’
“Excuse
me,” Adam nodded his head, folded his arm across is stomach, bowed gracefully
and then stepped aside to allow his brother to leave.
Adam
stood in the doorway and watched his younger brother stroll casually across the
yard toward the barn. He was surprised
at the stab on regret that had suddenly washed over him at seeing his baby
brother wearing a holster and pistol. It
was hard for him to believe that Little Joe was actually old enough now to be
allowed such a privilege and Adam couldn’t help feel a bit concerned about the
boy. Joe was young and high spirited,
not to mention hot tempered, and tended to react to certain situations rather
hastily at times. Adam could only hope
and pray that the boy would use caution and remember the wise words of wisdom
that their father had been trying so hard to instill in him if faced with a
matter pertaining to having to use his sidearm.
Adam
sighed. He had started to close the
door, but stopped when Joe led his horse from the barn. He couldn’t refrain from stepping back out
into the afternoon sun and going to his brother’s side.
“Joe,”
Adam called when he’d come near enough for Joe to hear him.
Joe
peered over the top of his saddle at his brother. He knew what was about to happen and he
steeled himself for the onslaught of words.
He forced himself to hold his tongue, for he was trying hard to practice
patience and tolerance, as his father had insisted were needed if he were to be
allowed to wear his sidearm.
“Yeah Adam?” Joe answered in his normal tone.
Adam
paused only for a second. “Hmm…Pa said
that there has been some rustling going on up near the buttes around the
He
was trying hard not to sound as if he were ordering his brother but warning him
of possible danger.
“We’ve
been missing some cattle ourselves, and well…stay alert,” Adam said.
Joe
leaned his arms across his saddle and studied his brother’s face. He refrained from smiling, Adam, in his own
way was telling…no, asking him to be careful.
“Thanks
Adam, don’t worry, I can take care of myself,” Joe said, finally smiling. “And I promise, I
won’t use this thing, unless I have too.”
Joe patted his leg where the new pistol hung.
Adam
smiled as well, showing his dimple on the left side of his face. He wasn’t at all surprised at his brother’s
self-assurance.
“Those
rustlers haven’t been caught yet, little brother, and they might still be
hanging around, so…”
“Adam,
don’t worry…I’ve already told you, I won’t use my gun, unless I have too.”
Joe
pulled back from his saddle and untied his horse from the hitching rail. As he swung gracefully into the saddle, he
smiled down at his brother.
“You…and
Pa…taught me well. I’m fast, big
brother, even you said that and…”
Adam
laid his hand on Joe’s knee, squeezing gently.
“That’s
right kid, too fast for your own good.
And, I might add, you’ve only been shooting at cans, shooting at a man
that is shooting back at you, trying to kill you is something totally
different.”
Adam’s
voice had taken on a serious tone. He
pointed his finger at his brother; his smile had disappeared.
“It’s
no picnic, having to live with the fact that you’ve killed a man, for any
reason. I’d like to spare you that if
possible, Little Joe, but sooner or later the day will come when a man will
force you into a shoot out, and there will be no way out of it, except to kill
or be killed. I don’t want to see you
gunned down. Yes, you are fast, but remember
Joe, no matter how good you think you are, there will always be someone just a
fraction of a second faster than you…and that will be the man who might just
kill you!”
Adam
stepped back from Joe’s horse and removed his hand from his brother’s leg where
he had placed it. “Be careful…and use
caution…that’s all I’m asking.”
Joe
had seen the deep concern on his older brother’s face
and knew that Adam was only looking out for his welfare. His irritation that he had first felt toward
his brother faded. He gave Adam a warm
smile.
“I
will Adam, I promise. If I see anything
out of the ordinary, I’ll come straight back here and tell you.”
“Good,
now…get going!” Adam nodded his head and
slapped Cochise’s rump, making the startled horse jerk his head up.
Joe
kicked gently at the horse’s sides and turned toward the north pasture. “See ya tonight!” Joe called out as he
disappeared around the barn.
Adam tossed his hand in the air and after a brief moment, went inside. His worry had not faded; not even with his brother’s assurance that he would follow all the rules that had been laid out to him, had he stopped worrying.
Joe felt exuberant as the wind blew against his face. He kicked Cochise, urging him on even faster. He lowered himself over the horse’s long silky neck, and allowed his body to move as one with his horse. It was rare that Joe Cartwright was able to let his pinto run as he was now and Joe was enjoying the freedom of the ride. Had he known that his father was watching from the hill on the opposite side of the open meadow, Joe would not have felt as he was at this precise moment.
Ben sighed, shaking his head as he watched his youngest and most daring son race across the field below. He had already determined that he would have a word with the boy about running his mount as he was now doing. Ben had no doubt that his son was an expert horseman, for he and Adam had taught the boy well. It was the memory of another expert rider, a fast horse and a sudden death that caused his heart to lurch each time that he saw his youngest son racing with the wind that troubled the anxious father.
Ben smiled as he sat remembering that everything about his youngest son caused him moments of heart-stopping anxiety. Ben laughed softly to himself. Joseph’s early arrival into this world had even caused his father a great deal of apprehension and had, in his father’s assumption, been the beginnings of his hair changing to the silver color that it had now become. He waited until Joe disappeared from his sight before turning Buck around and heading back to the ranch house. He knew that it would be nearly dark before his son arrived back home, so he had plenty of time to pick and chose his words carefully for the planned lecture he would deliver, though Ben was sure that his words would go unheeded, once Joe was out of his sight. Perhaps he’d forego the lecture…this time, let the boy have his freedom. There was no taming the boy, sighed Ben, not that he really wanted too, he loved his youngest just as he was.
Joe made a point of riding slowly along the fence line. He wanted to be sure that he did not miss any weak or broken places in the fence where cattle might be able to push through, plus the slow ride would give Cochise time to cool off before he started back.
He was almost finished when he happened upon a section of fence that had been totally demolished. As Joe dismounted to inspect the damage he found, much to his displeasure, that the fencing had literally been pulled from the ground. Joe studied the area thereabouts and calculated that at least forty to fifty heads of cattle had been driven through the break. Fixing the fence right then was out of the question, for Joe had been sent to inspect only, not to do repairs. He mounted back up and rode to the furthermost corner of the property line to be sure there were no more breaks and then started home. He would have to return in the morning with a wagon and supplies and do the repairs then.
“Yessir, about forty or fifty…at least that was my guess,” Joe explained to his father when he arrived home.
Ben had been sitting at the table on the side porch, discussing other matters with both Adam and Hoss when Joe had returned and reported the destroyed fence and the missing cattle.
“Well, you and Adam can take some supplies back up there in the morning and see that the fence is repaired. Hoss and I will ride into town and report this to Sheriff Coffee,” Ben said.
Joe looked at his brother and nodded his head. “We’ll need a whole new roll of that wire big brother…oh, and some new posts. It sure was a mess,” Joe said.
Adam stood to his feet and stretched his long body first to the right and then to the left. “Well,” he said as he leaned forward stretching in that direction as well, “I’m turning in, sounds like you and I are going to have a long day tomorrow.”
Joe pushed back his chair and stood as well. “Yep, and it’s gonna be a hot one too, just look at that sunset,” he pointed to the west where the sun was just dipping behind the mountains. The sky blazed red and the clouds looked as if they were on fire.
Ben glanced over his shoulder at the sun. “Sure is pretty though.”
Adam tapped on his brother’s bedroom door, then pushed it open. He stuck his head inside, seeing that Joe was still sleeping he grinned.
“Come on sleepy head,” he called and then paused.
“Ohh…what time is it?” Joe groaned. He was halfway down the bed with the pillow over his head.
“Time to rise and shine!” laughed Adam.
He grinned, he knew Joe hated mornings and he knew that his little brother was almost always the last to get up.
“Come on Joe…it’s
Joe tossed back the blanket and swung his bare legs over the side of the bed. He gave his brother a scowl as he ran his slender fingers through the tangle of dark curls.
“Well, you gonna stand there all day gawking at me, or are you going to close the door so I can get dressed?” snapped Joe groggily. He yawned and scratched his chest, “Well? What’s it too be…either you close the door, or I stand up and embarrass both of us!”
Adam
tossed his head back and laughed, “Okay, little brother, just hurry it up…I’d
like to get finished and then…maybe we can do some fishing…just the two of
us.” Adam started to close the door, but
stopped when Joe yelled out at him.
“Fishing? You mean,
just me and you?” Joe stammered.
“You
and I,” Adam corrected, grinning.
“Yeah,
that’s what I said, me and you…just the two of us?” Joe said, smiling.
Adam
rolled his eyes but laughed lightly.
“You heard me…just the two of us.”
“Adam…that’s
great,” Joe stammered as he started to get up.
He’d forgotten the blanket covering his nearly nude body.
“Whoa
Joe!” shouted Adam as he slammed the door.
As
he turned to leave, he could hear his little brother’s high-pitched giggle and
he laughed again. He had asked their
father the night before if he would mind letting them take half a day off if
they finished repairing the fence by lunch time and Ben, hearing that Adam had
wanted to spend a little free time with his younger brother, had heartily
agreed.
The
two brothers worked side by side all morning.
They stacked up the old broken fence posts and the ones that could be
salvaged and reused, they stuck back into the holes
that they dug. The cut up wire, they
rolled up into a ball and after removing the new roll from the wagon, placed
the balled wire in the back.
“Reckon
those cattle thieves rustled our steers, or do you think the cattle just tore
down this fence?” Little Joe questioned his brother when they stopped for a few
minutes to take a break. They sat in the
shade, with their backs pressed up against a tree.
Adam
looked up, seeming to be studying the sky before he glanced at his
brother. “It’s awfully dry up here, Joe…could be they went through the fence looking for
water.”
“Dumb
bovines,” laughed Joe. “The watering
hole ain’t but a mile or so on the other side of that rise.”
“Dumb
is being polite, little brother. If
those steers got it in their heads that water was in that direction,” Adam
nodded his head beyond the fence line they had been working on and then
continued. “They’d go in that
direction.”
Joe
shook his head and giggled. “That’s why
I want to raise horses instead of cattle, at least a horse can think for
himself.”
“Joe,
even a horse has a will of his own, take Cochise for instance, remember the
time that he…”
“Adam
look,” Joe pointed to the horizon, “riders,” he said. “You know them?”
Both
Adam and Joe rose to their feet. Adam
shaded his eyes with his hands and stared at the approaching men. There were four riders that he could count.
“Can’t tell, they’re too far away.”
Adam,
hearing horses behind them, spun around quickly, there were four more riders
approaching them from behind.
“Get
your rifle!” shouted Adam quickly as he made a run for the wagon.
He
and Joe stopped abruptly when the men began shooting in front of them to block
their paths.
“Don’t
move!” shouted one man who maneuvered his horse between the brothers and their
wagon where their rifles and gun belts lay in the back.
Adam
froze and placed his arm across Joe’s chest to keep his brother from continuing.
“Be
still, Joe,” he muttered.
He
raised his head and looked at the man and then around at the circle that the
other riders had made around Joe and himself. The circle of horses trapped them
and Adam sensed immediately they were in trouble.
“What
do you want?” he asked of one who seemed to be in charge.
The
man nudged his horse forward, causing Adam to take a step to the side. The man had managed to wedge his mount
between the two brothers, separating them.
His horse moved his hindquarters toward Joe and the boy was forced into
stepping even further away.
“Tie
up the kid,” the man ordered.
Before
Joe could gather his thoughts, two men dismounted, starting towards him. From behind him, Joe could hear the buzz of
the rope and then felt the coarseness of the braided twine as it wrapped itself
about his shoulders, pinning his arms to his side. He tried to fight off the two men but the
third, the one holding the rope, backed up his horse, tightening the rope that
much more. Joe was pulled to the ground
and dragged several paces. The movement
left him on his chest with his arms pinned to his sides. He felt the knees of one man, press into the
small of his back, causing him to groan.
The second man grabbed his wrists and wrenched his arms behind his
back. The rope was pulled snugly just
above the elbows where the rope was yanked tightly. Joe gave a howl of pain as the rope drew his
upper arms together and forced his shoulders back in an uncomfortable position.
The
man, pressing his knee into Joe’s back, laughed.
“Hurts
don’t it kid?” he said in a mocking voice.
“This won’t feel any better,” he warned as he tied the rope around Joe’s
wrists and then grabbed the boy’s ankles, pulling them upward, then wrapping
the rope about Joe’s legs and securing them to his wrists; thus leaving Joe
hog-tied and face down in the dirt.
Adam
glared at the man sitting on the horse who snickered at the sight of the boy on
the ground. He had tried to push his way
around the man and beast, but with no effort, for the man was constantly moving
his horse, hampering Adam’s efforts.
“You
can’t help him, Cartwright, so stop trying.
You just do as you’re told, and the kid won’t get hurt,” the man said.
“Who
are you and how do you know my name?” demanded Adam, his dark angry eyes and
never leaving the man’s face except to glance occasionally at his brother who
lay pinned to the ground.
“Name
makes no difference, and how I happen to know who you are, is easy, everyone
hereabouts knows the Cartwrights,” barked the man. “Tie his hands and put them both in the back
of the wagon,” he ordered his men. He
turned again to Adam. “We’re goin’ to
take a little ride. Just remember Cartwright, the boy’s life is in your hands, make
one wrong move and he’s dead.”
Adam
stood without moving as another man tied his wrists behind his back and then
shoved him toward the wagon. When Adam
glanced at the wagon, the ball of wire had been removed and placed on the
ground. He watched with growing fear as
three men grabbed Joe by his bound arms and legs and carried him to the back of
the wagon where they unceremoniously dropped him face down onto the hard
planks. His heart hammered deep within
his chest when Joe cried out from the pain and then turned tear filled eyes up
at him.
“Hang
on Joe,” Adam whispered.
“Where
are they taking us?” Joe whispered in return.
“Shut
up!” snarled one man who had climbed into the wagon with them. He jabbed Joe in the middle of his back with
the butt of his rifle and glared at Adam.
Joe
gritted his teeth to the pain and clamped his mouth shut to muffle the
sound. A lone tear rolled silently down
from the corner of his eye as he glanced once more at his brother.
Adam
could see the fear that etched itself into his brother’s expression and he
tried, pleading with his eyes, to send the boy a voiceless message of
reassurance. Joe took a deep breath, the
jarring about of the wagon intensified the pain in his arms and legs, but he
forced himself to smile slightly at his older brother.
Adam
counted eight men, including the one who deemed himself the leader. He had no idea who the men where or what they
wanted with the two of them. Looking
down at his brother, Adam knew they were in big trouble; Joe would be no help
to either of them if the chance arose, he couldn’t even help himself, tied the
way he was.
The
afternoon wore on and the day grew hotter and hotter with each passing
mile. They had been moving constantly
for more than two hours, estimated Adam as he watched the passing landscape, trying
to get his bearings. The soft
pastureland had turned to rock and the going was getting rougher and rougher as
they made their way higher into the mountains.
He
recognized the landmarks around him and knew that they were headed in the
direction of Eagle’s Nest. Once there,
Adam knew that there would be a thousand hiding places in which the men could
hold out. The rocks formed blind and
boxed canyons on either side of the highest peak and a man could stay hidden
away for weeks without ever being found.
Game was plentiful, as was water and positioned just right, a lookout
could spy an approaching man on horseback, long before the rider was aware that
he was being watched.
Adam’s
attention was drawn to his brother, for Joe had moaned weakly. Joe was sweating profusely and from the
grimaces on his face, Adam knew that the pain in his arms and legs was reaching
near unbearable. Joe had stopped
struggling against the ropes long ago, for which Adam was thankful. He had tried to whisper to his brother to
just relax, but the man sitting in the wagon with them had struck him in the
back of the head with his fist. Since, Adam had kept silent, fearing that one
of the men might take their wrath out on his brother. He hoped they would be stopping soon, Joe needed
water, and he confessed silently, so did he.
His mouth was dry and felt as if cotton had been shoved down his throat
and knew that Joe must be feeling as badly if not more so, than he.
It
was as if the man driving the wagon had read his thoughts, for suddenly the
wagon lurched to a stop. The boss man
rode to the back of the wagon and pulled his horse to a halt.
“Get
out,” he ordered Adam.
Adam
glanced quickly at Joe and then scooted on his behind to the end of the
wagon. “Could use a little help,” he
said in a tight voice.
“Jack,
you heard the man, help him down,” ordered the boss.
Jack,
the man who had been riding guard, stepped over Joe and reached down, grabbed
Adam by the back of the shirt and all but shoved him out of the wagon. Adam turned and gave the man a daring look,
which only served to get his face back handed. Adam’s head snapped backward and he staggered
a step or two.
“Lay
off!” shouted the boss.
“Then
tell him to keep his dirty looks to himself!” growled Jack, who gave the boss a
go-to-hell look.
Boss
pulled his pistol from his holster, and before anyone was fully aware of his
actions, pointed and fired the gun at Jack.
The sharp sound of the bullet caused Adam to jerk to his right, out of
the way. Jack staggered and slumped to
the floor of the wagon, landing crossways on top of Joe.
Joe
screamed out in agony as the weight of the man landed onto his back, pulling on
his shoulders. The scream sent panic
into the team of horses, which bolted into a run.
Adam
watched in horror as the team of chestnut bays fled, tossing the wagon from
side to side along the pitted path between the rocks. Joe’s cries could be heard in the distance as
the horses rounded a bend in the road.
“Stop
those animals!” the boss screamed in fury.
Two
riders gouged their mounts into a full run and took off after the wayward
team. It was several long agonizing
minutes before Adam saw the men return, leading the horses.
As
soon as they stopped, Adam ran to the back of the wagon to check on his
brother. Jack had been tossed from the
wagon during the wild ride, but Joe had somehow managed to remain where he
was. His face was ashen and Adam could
see the fear written in each fine line and saw how his brother’s body trembled.
“Are
you alright?” Adam asked.
Joe
nodded his head. “Water…please,” he
begged.
Adam
looked up at the boss man and the man nodded his head. “Pete, untie Cartwright’s hands and let him
give the boy some water.”
Pete
slid from his horse and quickly had Adam’s hands free. He tossed the canteen to the oldest
Cartwright and Adam quickly jumped into the back of the wagon. Carefully, to avoid hurting Joe, Adam turned
Joe over as best he could and glancing up at the boss pulled the cork from the
canteen.
“Can’t
I untie him, so his shoulders aren’t in such a bind?” Adam asked as he held the
canteen to Joe’s parched lips and allowed the boy to drink his fill.
“No! Just give him the water and then get out of
the wagon,” the boss ordered.
Adam
turned his attention back to Joe.
“Sorry, pal,” he said softly. “I
know you’re hurting, Joe, but try to hang on a little longer. I’ll get you out of this mess…somehow.”
“I
thought I told you to give the kid some water, not carry on a
conversation. That’s enough, now get out
of that wagon!” the boss man ordered Adam.
Adam
popped the cork back into the rim of the canteen and tossed it back to the man
called Pete. With a reassuring glance
down at his brother and a gentle pat on the arm, Adam climbed out of the wagon.
“Jesse,
you drive the team, Billy, you keep an eye on the kid. Pete, bring Jack’s horse over here,” the boss
instructed.
When
Pete had Jack’s horse ready, he handed the reins to Adam.
“Mount
up Cartwright.”
Adam
looked at Joe who was straining his neck trying to see what was going on behind
him.
“Where
are we going…and what about the boy?” Adam questioned.
“I
said mount up…unless you want Billy boy there to…work the kid over a little…it
could be arranged.”
Adam
had seen Billy stand up in the back of the wagon and glanced in his
direction. Billy was standing over Joe’s
body; the barrel of his rifle was digging into the side of Joe’s head. The sight sent terror into Adam’s heart and
he turned dark, indignant eyes back up at the boss man.
“I
get the message…just call off your dog!” snapped Adam.
“Get
on your horse, Cartwright.”
The
boss man made a nod of his head at Billy and Billy backed away, but not before
pushing the end of the rifle down just hard enough into Joe’s temple to make
Joe groan. It was Adam’s face that Billy
watched and he grinned wickedly when he saw the fiery daggers that Adam shot at
him.
Adam
knew that the man had made the gesture just to prove to him who was in
control. Adam swallowed his pride and
mounted his horse. He turned to the
boss.
“What
do you want me to do?” he questioned, still unsure of this man’s motives.
“I’ll
give you your instructions as we ride along,” boss said to Adam.
He
turned to Billy who had moved away from Joe and to Jesse who was sitting in the
wagon seat.
“Take
the wagon and the boy to the hideout.
Make sure he doesn’t get away, Billy that’s your job. The rest of you men, get back to the herd, if
something should go wrong and I’m not back by nightfall…kill the kid.”
“Move
out Cartwright,” issued the boss.
Adam
gave one final glance over his shoulder at the wagon that was slowly moving in
the opposite direction. Billy had sat
down next to Joe and was saying something to his brother, but Adam could not
make out what was being said. He glanced
at the boss man and saw that he was being watched. A deep seeded anger washed over Adam.
“If
anything happens to that boy, I’ll hunt you down and kill you, all of you…that’s a promise,” snarled Adam as he nudged his mount into
a trot.
The
boss ignored the Cartwright’s wrath and added more indignity to fuel Adam’s
hatred of the man by tossing back his head and laughing loudly.
The
wagon bumped along the deep rutted road for another hour before finally coming
to a stop. Joe twisted his head around
to try to see what was going on. Billy
had jumped from the back of the wagon and gone to talk to a couple of the
men. In the back ground, Joe could hear
the low mooing of the steers and realized that these men must have been the
ones who had torn down their fencing and then had rustled their cattle.
Joe
was in the process of trying to raise his head when he felt hands on his arms
and legs. He winced when the hands
pulled his body from the back of the wagon and carried him, by his ropes, over
to the shade of a large overhanging boulder.
He was dropped, rather than placed, on the hard rocky ground. His muffled cry when he was dropped slipped
by his tightly pressed lips and the men standing over him snickered. One man managed to get in a good hard kick to
his sides before walking away and leaving him groaning face down in the dust.
Joe
was left to himself for a long time. He
had begun to squirm, he needed to relieve himself but nobody would come near
enough so that he might ask to be untied.
He waited another half-hour and when Billy finally strolled over to him,
Joe looked up into the other man’s face.
He hated the thoughts of having to ask this person for permission to
relieve himself, but he knew if he didn’t swallow his pride, it would be more
damaged if he were to have an accident.
“Hey…I
gotta go…mind untying my hands?” Joe asked in a weak voice that he tried not to
sound too pleading.
Billy
snickered as he placed himself on a nearby rock and watched the boy. “Say please, and I might
just let you,” he taunted.
Joe
gave the man a menacing glare but when Billy only shrugged his shoulders and
then rose as if to walk away, Joe took a deep breath and swallowed his pride.
“Please,”
he whispered softly.
Billy
stopped and turned back to Joe.
“What? I didn’t hear you.”
“Please,”
Joe said a little louder.
“That’s
better,” laughed Billy. “Hey, Jesse,
Pete…did ya hear that, the kid’s gotta take a leak, reckon I should let’em?” asked
Billy as he poked at Joe’s side with the toe of his dirty boot.
Jesse
walked over to stand next to Billy and in a moment, Pete joined them. Joe eyed each man cautiously. Jesse jabbed him in the leg and then laughed.
“Sure,
let the kid take a leak…I’ll watch him and make sure he don’t wander off too
far,” Jesse offered.
“Okay,
kid, you heard the man, I’ll untie you, but I’m keeping this rope around your
legs, if ya try anything, I’ll haul your butt to the ground, got that?” snapped
Billy.
“I
got it, just hurry up, will you?”
Billy
burst into laughter as he worked at loosening the ropes around Joe’s arms and
legs. When Joe felt the ropes go slack,
he dropped his legs down and tried to stretch them out. They were stiff from being held in the awkward
position for so long. His arms were the
same way and it took Joe several long minutes before he could move comfortably
enough to try to stand. Once he was on
his feet, Billy tied the rope tightly around one ankle.
“Hurry
it up kid, you’ve got about two minutes to finish your
business.”
Joe
swallowed the lump in his throat and feeling as if every eye in the camp were
watching him, slowly he made his way to the edge of
the camp and behind a boulder. He
finished his business in due time. Billy
had tugged gently on the end of the rope to be sure that his prisoner had not
taken off.
Joe
leaned down and using fingers that trembled, he quickly untied the knot in the
rope around his leg. As soon as the rope
was untied, Joe quickly tied it off to the biggest rock he could find and then
took off at a run into boulders. He
hadn’t gotten very far when he heard the shouts of the men who were supposed to
be guarding him. Joe paused just long
enough to see three men sprinting toward him.
He turned and fled, running as fast as his stiff sore legs would permit.
His
freedom was short lived. Billy had
coiled up his rope and when he swung it out, over Joe’s head, the rope slipped
neatly about Joe’s body. Billy stopped
running and yanked with all of his might on his end of the rope. Joe was hauled backwards onto the hard ground
and the wind was knocked from his lungs.
He lay dazed, trying desperately to suck in large amounts of air to fill
his deflated lungs. Billy was by his
side in seconds, kicking and gouging Joe in the side with his boot. Joe twisted in the opposite direction, only
to be kicked repeatedly in both sides by Billy’s companions and then when Joe
turned onto his stomach, one man stomped on his
back. Joe screamed out his agony but to
no avail. The three men were ruthless in
their assault. It was only after Joe had
stopped fighting and gave way to the blackened world that sought to claim him,
did the men cease their brutality on their prisoner.
Joe
woke several hours later. His head was
pounding and when he tried to focus his eyes, and move his body, he found that
he had been blindfolded as well as tied tightly. His jaws ached and Joe realized that he had
been gagged as well. Fear began seeping
from every pore in his body and he wondered where he was and what had happened
to his older brother. He was afraid of
dying…and above all else, he hated the darkness that disallowed him to see the
world around him. His back ached as well
as his stomach and for the first time since he was a kid, he wished that his
father would come for him, for he wanted nothing better than to go home.
Joe
tried to move, but something besides the ropes were holding him down. He was unable to move his legs for his
captives had spread him eagle on the hard burning sand and had staked his
ankles to spikes driven into the rock.
The same had been done to his arms and wrists and even under his chin
where the rawhide pulled upward and back on his lower jaw, forcing his head
into a very confining position. He
groaned; the sand beneath his body was hot and his back felt as if it were on
fire. Though he tried to stop them, Joe
felt the tears that filled his eyes underneath his blindfold and knew without a
doubt that they would soak through the tight cloth that covered his face.
He
felt the end of a gun barrel pressed lightly into his bare chest. “You awake kid?” he heard Billy ask.
Joe
thought about not answering his captor and for several minutes he held himself
in check. When the barrel of Billy’s
rifle pressed deeper into his chest cavity, Joe tried to wiggle his upper body
in an attempt to dislodge the gun.
“About
time,” laughed Billy. “Enjoy the sun,
kid?” he snickered. “Hope so, it’s a
long time ‘til dark,” Billy said and then strolled over to the fire where the other
men had gathered to sip on cups of hot coffee.
Adam
and the boss, whom he finally learned was named Marcus Bass, had ridden back
toward town and now had stopped just on the outskirts of
“You
understand what you are to do?” quizzed Bass.
“I
understand, but it will never work, you’ll see,” Adam said in a voice laced
with contempt.
“You
better hope that you don’t fail, it could cost you the life of that brat you
call brother,” snapped Bass as he glared at Adam.
“What
if Morgan doesn’t want to buy the cattle?
I can’t force the man to something that he’s not interested in doing,”
responded Adam.
He
hadn’t like Bass’ plan. Selling his father’s cattle, which had been stolen, to a man whom
Ben had always disliked, for a price far below the market value. The idea that he’d be forced into giving
Morgan a bill of sale for those same steers, would never give Adam the proof he
needed to prove that Bass had actually stolen the cattle and then forced him,
against his will to sell the herd. Adam
seethed with anger…if Bass could somehow pull this deal off; he might easily
put Ben Cartwright in a state of financial destruction. Adam knew that Ben
could overcome the financial strain, but at what cost, Adam wondered.
“Move,”
ordered Bass as he nodded with his head.
Adam
tapped lightly at his mount’s sides and slowly the pair moved down the
street. Adam’s eyes searched for a
familiar face. He remembered his father
saying that he and Hoss would be in town sometime today, and Adam’s eyes
flickered from one side of the street to the other in search of his father and
brother or their horses. Any hope of
finding either was short lived as Bass ordered him to stop in front of Morgan’s
office.
“Get
down Cartwright, and remember…I left Billy in charge of your kid brother.”
Adam
remembered and he remembered the fear that shone in Joe’s expressive eyes when
the wagon in which he was being carried off in, had moved away in the opposite
direction.
Adam
took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Bass pushed opened the office door and stepped back so that Adam could
enter in front of him. Morgan sat at his
desk and casually glanced up when he saw Adam Cartwright enter the room,
followed by a tall dark stranger.
“You
really are brave, aren’t you? I’m mean,
as long as you have a man tied down,” groaned Joe.
Billy
had removed the gag and the blindfold from Joe’s face. He had begun to grow bored with just having
to sit around in the hot sun. The cattle
had become thirsty and had started milling around so the others had gone down
to the makeshift corral to keep an eye on the unsettled herd, least they decide
to bolt through the crudely built fence that kept them tightly corralled within
the boxed canyon.
Billy
planted his boot onto the top of Joe’s exposed stomach. Joe felt the pressure but forced himself not
to let his tormentor see the fear that Joe felt deep within. Billy had spent the last several minutes
kicking and gouging at him with either his booted foot or the barrel of his
rifle. His sides showed the bruised
areas where Billy had kicked him, his flesh was inflamed by the sun’s hot rays
that cooked his skin, and Joe felt sure that if he was not allowed up soon, he
would die lying on the rocks roasting in the late afternoon sun.
“How
good are you at fighting a man when that man can fight back?” Joe taunted his
captor.
“Shut
up!” snapped Billy.
“You
yellow, Billy?” Joe dared to ask the man.
It
was the wrong thing to say for Billy dropped to his knees and began punching
Joe in the face. Almost immediately,
Joe’s lip busted open and began to bleed.
Billy’s fist slammed into Joe’s nose that spurted blood all over the attacker. Billy had raised his fist for one more blow
when he felt his arm jerked upward.
“That’s
enough, Bill…he’s practically unconscious now,” growled Jesse as he pulled
Billy to his feet.
“Serves
the brat right, spouting off like he was,” stormed Billy as he kicked out at
Joe.
The
tip of his pointed boot caught Joe in the lower side, and though unconscious,
he grunted painfully as Billy strolled away.
“Well,
Adam Cartwright,” Morgan greeted as he rose from the chair he’d been sitting
in. He extended his arm and offered Adam
his hand.
Reluctantly,
Adam accepted and shook hands with the man.
“To
what do I owe this visit?” Morgan chanted, his eyes taking in the tall stranger
who accompanied the eldest Cartwright son.
“Mr.
Morgan, this is…Marcus Bass…hmm…” began Adam.
“The
Cartwright’s new foreman,” supplied Bass as he gave Adam a warning glare.
“Mr.
Bass,” Morgan extended the same courtesy to the stranger as he had to Adam.
“I’m
here about the cattle that you offered to buy from my father…he’s hmm…changed
his mind,” Adam said flatly.
“He’s
changed his mind? My, my, I find that
hard to believe. May I ask why?” Morgan
asked as he rounded his desk and went back to sit down in his chair. He leaned back and tapped the ends of his
fingers together lightly and studied Ben Cartwright’s oldest son.
“Call
it a change of heart, I suppose,” Adam explained.
He
had no intentions of explaining to this man his real cause for wanting to sell
the stolen cattle, which in truth, if he sold them, then they weren’t really
stolen. It was getting complicated.
“How much?”
“Excuse
me?” stammered Adam. He’d been caught
off guard by Morgan’s abrupt question.
“How much…for the cattle…perhaps I should ask, how many?” Morgan repeated himself.
Adam
glanced at Bass. The expression on
Cartwright’s face had not gone unnoticed by Morgan.
“Two
hundred head of prime beef,” Bass informed the other man.
“That many?” Morgan pondered aloud.
“And
we’re ready to let you have them below market price…say $15 a head?” Bass
stated to Morgan.
Morgan
was surprised; he’d only asked Ben Cartwright for half that many steers. Morgan studied both Adam and his friend,
Bass. Something wasn’t right, Adam
Cartwright would never let another man, let alone his foreman, talk up a deal
that pertained to Ponderosa business, but he kept silent, wondering where all
of this would lead.
“Market
price is $20 a head…$15 a head is quite a savings. Let’s see now, that’s…” Morgan began trying
to quickly figure the cost in his head.
“$3,000,” Bass said quickly.
Morgan
looked up, first at Bass and then Adam. Adam
met his gaze with a steady one of his own.
Instantly, Morgan knew that the young man was trying to tell him
something by the expression on his face, but what, he pondered.
“Adam?”
he said.
“That’s
right sir, that’s the price my father said to agree on,” Adam said.
Two
hundred heads of prime beef, Adam had no idea that they had been missing that
many steers. He felt his repulsion for
the man standing next to him, grow even deeper than before.
“Then
$3,000 it will be. I will write you out
a draft on…”
“NO!”
Bass all but shouted. “I mean…Adam…you
said your father wanted cash, remember?”
Adam’s
eyes narrowed, “Certainly, Pa said cash only, Mr. Morgan, if you don’t mind?”
“Not at all, Adam, not at such a good savings.” Morgan pulled open a drawer from his desk and
withdrew a leather moneybag. He untied
the thin straps and counted out the bills required.
“I
think this is correct,” he said as he counted the money so that Adam could see
and placed it into Adam’s hand. “Now,
all I need from you is a bill of sale.”
“Of
course, I have that right here,” Bass withdrew the paper from his vest pocket
and opened it for Morgan before handing the paper to him.
Morgan
took the paper and glanced over in Adam’s direction. He noted the dark eyes that spoke volumes
without voicing a word. Morgan dipped
the tip of his pen into the ink and gently tapped the end on the rim of the
inkwell.
His
hand stopped halfway to the paper and he glanced again at Adam. “You’re positive this is what you want?”
“Give
me pen so I can sign it!” Adam snapped and grabbed the pen from Morgan’s
fingers.
He
quickly scribbled his name on the document and then tossed the paper and pen
across the table to Morgan.
“Let’s
go!” Adam barked at Bass as he picked up the money and shoved it into his
pocket.
Adam
turned toward the door and flung it opened, marching out into the late
afternoon sun and started for his horse.
He was already swinging his leg across the saddle by the time that Bass
caught up to him.
“Wait!”
shouted Morgan, bringing Adam to a sudden stop.
“What about my cattle?”
“I’ll
have our men bring them out to your place.
Adam here can give them directions, can’t you Adam?” Bass called out.
“Yeah,
I’ll tell them how to get there.
Morgan,” Adam said and tipped his hand to the rim of his hat.
They
rode slowly out of town, side by side.
Adam kept his eyes trained straight in front of him, his mind busy with
troubling thoughts of his younger brother.
He was totally unaware that from the other side of the street, his
father had been watching from the window of the sheriff’s office where he and
Hoss had gone to report the broken fence and the missing cattle.
“That’s
strange,” muttered Ben.
“What
is?” Hoss asked, turning his attention to his father.
Hoss
dipped his head and peered out the window trying to see what it was that his
father thought was so strange.
“Adam,
he just rode past with some fellow.” Ben
scratched his head. “He’s
suppose to be mending fences with Little Joe and then they were going to
do some fishing, wonder why he was in town?”
“Maybe
he needed more supplies?” offered Hoss.
“No,
he would have gone to the house first, it’s much closer and he knows that we
have everything he’d need right there…something else strange too, he wasn’t
riding Sport,” Ben said as he glanced out the window for the second time.
“That’s
odd, sure ‘nough,” muttered Hoss.
“Wonder why short shanks wasn’t with’em?”
“Don’t
know, but I aim on finding out, come on Hoss.”
Ben grabbed his hat and shoved it down on his head. “See ya, Roy,” he called as he made his way
out of the office.
He
and Hoss were just about to mount up when someone called out his name. Ben stopped and turned toward the voice.
“Great,”
he muttered in a low voice.
Hoss
glanced up to see Harry Morgan hurrying down the street toward him. Hoss looked over at his father and saw the
aggravation on his face. He started to
speak, but Morgan beat him to it.
“I
must say Ben, I’m surprised at you!” Morgan said with a wide grin on his face.
“At me, why?” Ben questioned as he mounted his horse.
“Because of your change of heart. I
know we’ve had our differences in the past, but this…this is most gracious on
your part,” smiled Morgan.
“Morgan,
I’m sort of in a hurry, if you don’t mind,” Ben said as he forced Buck to back
away from the hitching post. Ben nudged
the animal’s side and slowly Buck walked down the street.
Morgan
was not to be put off and he walked quickly beside of Ben. “Ben…Ben…about these steers that Adam just
sold me…I wanted to tell you thanks, that’s all…”
Ben
jerked back on Buck’s reins. “Adam sold
you some cattle…what the hell are you talking about?” Ben demanded in a deep
voice.
Morgan
spent the next several minutes telling Ben about Adam’s arrival into his office
with his new foreman, and the below market price he’d just paid Ben’s son for
two hundred heads of prime beef.
Ben’s
eyes grew smaller and the color changed from chocolate brown to ebony. “I don’t have a new foreman!” bellowed Ben,
“and I did NOT authorize the sale of any cattle, let alone to YOU!”
“Pa,
calm down!” Hoss said, grabbing Ben’s arm and pulling him away from the other
man.
Ben
had stepped up to Morgan and stood nose to nose with him. “If this is some kind of joke, I don’t find
it funny!” shouted Ben.
“It’s
not a joke…I have a bill of sale!” Morgan shouted back at the rancher.
He’d
cursed himself for having the audacity to approach Ben Cartwright and out of
the goodness of his heart, try to thank the man, he should have known better,
he told himself.
“Let
me see that!”
Ben
grabbed the folded paper out of Morgan’s hand and unfolded it. He could barely believe what he was
seeing. It was Adam’s signature on the paper
stating that Morgan had purchased two hundred head of cattle for the sum of
$3,000.”
Eyes
glaring, he handed the paper back to Morgan and turned around to Hoss. “Come on Hoss, I want a word with that older
brother of yours.”
Bass
signaled for Adam to stop.
“Give
me the money,” he ordered as he stretched out his opened hand.
Adam
studied the man’s face. He’d have to
think of something fast, if he planned on getting Little Joe back safely, for
he had no doubt that once Bass had the money in his hand, they were as good as
dead. There was no way that the man
would allow either of them to live, not with all they knew.
“Not
until we get back to the camp. I want to
make sure that Joe is alright,” he dared to say.
“Suit
yourself,” Bass said, surprising Adam. “I have some men around this bend, I’ll have them move those steers out while we go on to
the camp.”
Bass
rode off, leaving Adam behind. He knew
the man would not make an escape, he’d already seen how devoted the man was to
the kid. No, Adam Cartwright was filled
to the brim with loyalty; he’d never abandon his brother. What a shame, thought Bass, to kill a man
like that, but he was left with no other choice, he’d have to kill them both.
They
stopped once more, at the edge of a boxed canyon. Adam stared in wonder at the cattle that
milled around. He knew that they had
been loosing cattle here and there, but he had no idea that the loss had
amounted to this many. Even hearing Bass
tell Morgan that they had two hundred steers to sale, seemed nothing compared
to actually seeing the two hundred heads.
He
waited while Bass spoke to his men.
Again his thoughts turned to his younger brother and he dared to imagine
what the boy might have suffered in his absence.
“Untie
him!” shouted Billy to Jesse as he stomped around, angered by the constant
taunting of his prisoner. “I ain’t
afraid of no man, much less a smart mouth boy!
I’ll show him…hurry it up, untie him and then get out of here, both of
you!” he ranted.
“I
can handle this brat easily…I don’t need the likes of the two of you standing
around watching…get down to that herd!” he order the other two men.
Joe
knew that his only hope was in getting free of the ropes that bound him to the
ground. Unless he could get to his feet,
he’d die staked to the hot stones beneath him.
He slowly and deliberately took his time to get to his feet. His body was battered and bruised from
Billy’s constant kicking and jabbing at him, and he was stiff from being
immobile for so many hours. He got to
his knees and rubbed at the soreness in his hands and along his wrists where
the rope had burned into his flesh. He
flung his hands a time or two to force the blood into his fingers.
“Get
on your feet!” shouted Billy.
He glanced
around; Jesse had taken off with Pete to start moving the cattle like Bass had
instructed them to do earlier, before he had ridden into town with the other
Cartwright. He laughed; he was alone
with just the kid. This was what he’d
been waiting for all day. He despised
the kid for reasons known only to himself and it would
give him great satisfaction to kill the boy, in his own time and in his own
way.
Billy
unfastened his sidearm and tossed it to the ground. This was one fight he’d fight fair, or die
trying. Again he laughed, the boy was a
weakling, he out weighed the boy by thirty or forty pounds he surmised, and he
was taller, thicker and in better shape than the kid was. Having been staked out for more than four
hours had clearly taken its toll on the boy.
Billy rubbed his hands together.
“Let’s
get on with it,” he dared Joe.
Joe
got to his feet at last and right away, Billy began circling his prey. They walked in a full circle before Billy
threw his first punch, which whizzed passed the end of Joe’s chin. Joe ducked and then threw a punch of his own
when Billy staggered a step or two toward him.
Joe’s punch clipped Billy’s chin and Billy’s head snapped back.
When
he’d regained his footing, he took a step back and laughed. “So, there’s still some fight left in you!”
He
dove at Joe’s mid-section and plowed into the younger boy, knocking him to the
ground. Billy held on to Joe and tumbled
down with him. He reared back his fist
and pounded it into Joe’s face. Again
and again he delivered blow after blow until Joe was beaten near senseless.
Joe
had been weaker than he had thought and had only been able to hold his arms
outward attempting to ward off the other man’s punches. He’d gotten in a couple of ill-fated jabs to
Billy’s face, but Billy had been so incensed that he’d barely felt the blows.
Joe
was tiring quickly and he knew it was only a matter of time before Billy moved
in for the kill. He tried tossing the
man over his head, but his legs refused to obey his brain’s silent commands.
One
more blow to the side of Joe’s head rendered him defenseless. He lay dazed, trying to collect his
thoughts. Billy allowed himself time to
catch his breath. As Joe lay gasping for
every breath he struggled to take, Billy got to his feet and grabbed his pistol
from his holster.
“Time
for you to die, kid,” snarled Billy.
Joe
raised his head enough that he could see Billy standing over him. He tried to scramble away, but he was too
weak. Billy took a step closer to the
frightened boy and pointed the gun at Joe.
Joe
swallowed hard; his throat was thick. He
heard the cocking of the trigger and heard Billy laughing; he closed his eyes
and the last thought that ran through his mind before he heard the blast from
the pistol, was of his family and how much he loved all of them.
Joe
heard someone call out Billy’s name and then his head hit the ground; he lay
motionless until he felt the weight of the body that toppled onto him. Shocked, he opened his eyes and found himself
staring into the blank face of his tormentor.
Instantly, Joe shoved the body off him and turned toward the ruckus that
was taking place just a few feet away from him.
He
was surprised to see Adam and the boss man fighting. Not sure where they had come from, when, or who
had shot Billy, Joe felt a pang of relief wash over him. He tried to get to his feet but was still too
weak, his body battered and the piercing pain shot throughout his whole being
when he tried to move.
His
eyes found Billy’s gun laying just a few feet from him and he forced himself to
crawl along on his bare stomach until he reached the pistol. Sounds of the fight forced him into turning;
Adam had just flung the other man over his body and had turned to face the man,
ready to lock arms. The boss man whirled
onto his front side and hunkered down.
Joe saw him take a deep breath and then charge into Adam, using his body
weight to knock Adam backwards and onto his own back.
The
boss hammered at Adam’s face. Blood
spurted from his brother’s nose, but Adam was able to grab the man’s fist. A power struggle resumed as the two men
pushed against the other, both slowly rising to their feet. The boss was first to break free of Adam’s
vise like grip and when he did, he swung out, clipping Adam on the end of his
chin. Adam, dazed from the powerful
blow, faltered and staggered backward, crumbling to the ground.
The
other man laughed and glanced over his shoulder. He found what he was looking for, and quickly
he grabbed his gun, which had been knocked free of his hand minutes
before. He aimed the pistol down,
pointing it at Adam and pulled back on the trigger.
“NO!”
screamed Joe, who held Billy’s pistol in his own trembling hand.
Joe
staggered to his feet. The boss stopped,
turned toward Joe and quick as a flash pointed the gun in his direction.
Joe’s
eyes met the blue eyes of the man facing him, and when he fired his gun, he had
no idea that he had struck the man in the center of his chest. The other gun went off. Joe heard the whiz of the man’s bullet as it
buzzed by his head. He watched,
transfixed as the boss man’s legs folded beneath the weight of his body and
crumbled to the ground.
Joe
stared, wide-eye in horror at what he had done.
His heart pounded deep beneath his breast and his stomach began to churn
at the sight of the blood that seeped from the hole in the man’s chest.
Joe
turned away from the sight. Tears filled
his eyes as the hot bile boiled to the surface from the pits of his stomach and
he began retching violently, time after time.
He was hardly aware of the hands that tenderly held his head or of the
person who knelt beside of him.
When
he’d emptied his stomach of it’s contents, he was only
faintly aware that someone pressed a cool wet cloth into his hand and ordered
him to wipe his mouth. The damp cloth
felt good against his raging skin and brought him
slowly back to his senses.
He
turned to look into the dark compassionate eyes of his brother. Joe’s chin began to quiver, his eyes filled
again with unshed tears until he blinked and then they rolled gently down the
front of his face. Adam’s hands clutched
his younger brother’s shoulders and Joe, beyond going, gave him self over to
the tender touch and fell, weeping into his brother’s caring embrace.
“I
killed him…I killed him, Adam,” sobbed Joe.
“I
know Joe…but it’s going to be alright,” whispered Adam.
His
arms had entwined themselves about his brother’s heaving shoulders and his
fingers were laced amid the thick curls at the base of his brother’s hairline
as he held Joe against his breast.
“I
didn’t want…to kill him…but he was…going to shoot…you,” wept Joe.
“I
know, Joe…you had no other choice…”
“But
I didn’t want to kill…him. Adam…I killed
a man…I…”
Joe’s
words were lost in his tears as he sobbed out his sorrow while clinging tightly
to the only support he could find, his brother.
Adam’s
lips were pressed tightly into a fine straight line. He knew that Joe had been forced into killing
Bass. The man had pointed a loaded gun
at him, had Joe not fired when he had, Joe would be the one lying in a pool of
bright red blood, not Bass. Somehow he
had to make his brother understand that.
“Joe,
listen to me buddy,” pleaded Adam. “I
know how you feel…honest. I remember the
first time I was faced with having to kill a man. I remember how it felt, knowing that I had
actually ended a man’s life, but believe me buddy, you had to do it.”
Joe
had momentarily stopped his weeping and appeared to be listening to his brother’s
words. However he made no move to remove
himself from the protecting arms of his older brother.
“Joe,
just like I did, you had to make a choice, it was
either kill or be killed. If you hadn’t
shot him when you did, Joe, you’d be dead now…and so would I. Bass wouldn’t have let me live, not after
killing you. Don’t you see, little
buddy, he was planning on killing us both anyway. Joe, you saved my life, pal, mine and your
own,” explained Adam.
He
could still feel the tremors that surged through his brother’s body. Joe pulled back from Adam enough to see his
face.
“You
ain’t just saying all of this to make me feel better…are you?” he stammered.
Adam
met Joe’s intense gaze and he smiled a tiny smile. “No, I wouldn’t lie to you, Joe. You really didn’t have another way out,
except to kill the man.”
Adam
brushed the stray curls back from Joe’s sweat dampened brow with one hand.
“I
suppose you’re right, but…I…can’t believe I killed a man.” Joe’s chin quivered and he grasped Adam’s
vest with trembling fingers. “I hope I
never have to kill another man, Adam…”
“So
do I Joe, because it never gets any easier.
I’ve killed when I’ve had no other choice, but it’s always the same, I
get sick to my stomach, just like you did.
It makes me mad that men put one another into positions where they are
forced to protect themselves or their families with guns and with killing…I
don’t know, Joe, maybe someday men will find a way to settle their differences
in a more civilized manner instead of with guns.”
Joe
wiped away the tears that lingered on his face and when Adam handed him his
handkerchief, Joe blew his nose.
“I
hope so too, Adam. I’ve killed one man,
even if he deserved to die, I didn’t relish being the one to make him.”
“I
know Joe. I wish I could have spared you
all this pain and guilt…I wish I’d been the one, instead of you…if I could
have…”
“Adam,
stop. It was bound to happen, sooner or
later; even you said that, yesterday.
Don’t you remember, you said, ‘sooner
or later the day will come when a man will force you into a shoot out, and
there will be no way out of it, except to kill or be killed.’”
“That day came sooner than either of us expected, little brother…I’m sorry about that,” Adam whispered softly. The look on his little brother’s face did nothing to hide the fact of what Joe was feeling.
Adam
cupped the back of his hand around the base of Joe’s neck and pulled the boy
back into a hug, where he held him for several moments.
“What
say we go home and get you into bed?” he muttered into Joe’s ear.
He
felt Joe nod his head in reply. Adam
helped Joe to his feet, when they turned, they were surprised to see their
father and Hoss ride into camp. Behind
them was Roy Coffee, the sheriff and about a dozen men.
Ben
slid quickly from his horse and rushed to his son’s sides. “Adam, Joe…are you
both alright?” he asked.
He
took in the discoloration on both of his son’s faces, the dried blood, the cuts
and scrapes and when Joe’s legs started to give way, Ben reached out to support
the wobbly boy. He glanced at Adam with
eyes full of concern and unanswered questions.
“Come
on, let’s get you both home. Joe, I want
you in the bed,” Ben instructed as he helped Joe over to the wagon. “Easy now, just lie back, and we’ll have you
comfortable in no time. Adam, you too,
in you go,” ordered Ben.
Adam
didn’t bicker with his father, but did as instructed and climbed in next to his
brother. Hoss had fashioned a bed or
sorts from their bedrolls so that his brothers could be as comfortable as
possible on the ride back to the ranch.
When
both sons were settled, Ben tied Buck to the back of the wagon and crawled into
the back with them. Hoss tied his horse
as well and jumped into the seat.
“I’ll
drive,” he called back to his family.
“You two just sit easy,” he gave them one of his winning smiles. The relief of having his family together
again showed in the glimmer of his sky blue eyes.
They
had only traveled a few miles when Ben noticed that Joe had fallen to
sleep. He was leaning against his
brother. Adam moved just enough to be
able to lower Joe’s head into his lap and then turned, smiling at his father.
“The
kid’s had a rough day, Pa,” he said in a low voice.
“I can
see that, in fact I can see the results of his day all over his body, and
yours,” Ben observed sadly.
“How’d
you find us Pa?”
“Hmm…believe
it or not, it was Harry Morgan, the rascal,” Ben laughed to himself.
“Morgan,
how?” questioned Adam.
“I
saw you ride out of town with that stranger, Bass, Harry said his name
was. I suspected that something was wrong, I just didn’t know what it was. Hoss and I were on our way to follow you when
Harry stopped me and thanked me for selling him two hundred heads of our prime
beef. I thought the man had lost his
mind. Then he showed me the bill of sale
you gave him and when he said that you told him Bass was our new foreman, I
knew for sure something was mighty wrong, so
Ben
stopped to gather his thoughts.
“I
didn’t know where Joe was until we got to the camp.” Ben’s words were beginning to falter as he
thought about all that his youngest son had been put through.
“They
kept him tied up, they knew I wouldn’t do anything to endanger his life…I only
wish that…”
“Adam,
you did all you could to keep your brother safe. I couldn’t have asked more of you, son. I want you to know how proud I am of you…of
both of you,” Ben said as he gently rested his hand on Adam’s arm.
“Joe’s
going to have a hard time dealing with having killed Bass. He only did what he had to do, Pa…you could
very well have lost two sons tonight, if Joe hadn’t killed that man,” Adam
explained.
“I
realize that, son. And yes, Joe will
have a hard time dealing with this, but he knows that we’re here for him…now
and always. And son, I have no doubts
that he’ll be forced into having to kill again, someday, somewhere and for the
same reasons, either kill or be killed.”
“How
old were you, Pa…when you killed your first man?” Adam asked unexpectedly.
“Whew…that
was many years ago son. But I remember
it like it was yesterday, it’s something that a man never forgets. I was about twenty, I was at sea, with your
grandfather and pirates attacked us. I had
to shoot a man, he came at me with a saber,” Ben paused and took a deep breath,
letting it out slowly.
“I
guess I was luckier than most, I was twenty-two,” admitted Adam. “Remember, we were in
Ben
could see his son’s hand begin to tremble as he gently fingered the curls on
Joe’s head. When Adam looked up, Ben could
see the shine of tears that his son forbid to fall.
“I’d
have killed that man a hundred times over if I could have, for what he did to
Joe that day,” whispered Adam in a thick voice.
“Of the men I’ve had to kill, he’s the one I’ve regretted the least.”
“I
understand, Adam. I regret that Joe is
so young and yet has had to experience something that some men twice his age,
have yet to endure,” Ben concluded.
“Seventeen
years old for what…three weeks? He’s man
for sure now, Pa…killing Bass took away Joe’s youth…and part of his
innocence…for that I can allow myself to hate the man,” Adam said sorrowfully.
“Adam,
don’t waste your time hating Bass…it could have been anyone, he just happened
along at the wrong time…for Joe I mean.
Not too many men in this day and time have lived without having killed
someone, for some reason…it’s almost a part of life. Hopefully, someday, that will all be changed,
but until then, we live with it. Bass
was an outlaw, he lived by the gun…that was his choice…and he died by the
gun…that too was his choice…not Joe’s.
And I…” Ben stopped mid-sentence.
“Joseph,
I didn’t know you were awake son,” Ben said as he
smiled down at his son. “We’re almost
home and then you can…”
Joe
pulled himself into a sitting position and glanced at his father, then Adam and
back to Ben. “Did you mean what you just
said?” he asked.
Ben
looked puzzled.
“About Bass living by the gun and dying by the gun?” Joe questioned.
“Yes,
I meant it. Men like Bass who make
breaking the law their way of life, know that some day they may very well die
in much the same manner as they live.
That’s their decision to make son, why?”
“I
just wanted to know, that’s all.” Joe
dropped his head.
They
had reached the house, and Ben jumped from the back of the wagon where he had
been sitting with his sons. Adam
followed and waited while Ben helped Joe down.
As Joe stood to his feet, he glanced up at his father. Ben noted the accumulation of tears that
welled in Joe’s hazel eyes.
“What’s
wrong, son?” Ben whispered as he pulled Joe into his arms.
He
could feel Joe’s arms slide around his waist and squeeze his mid-section. Adam gave his father a wink and walked away,
nodding his head to Hoss who followed him into the house.
“Joseph?”
Ben murmured.
“I’m
just glad to be home, that’s all, Pa,” Joe muttered. He pulled back and looked up at his
father. “When I got up this morning…I
never gave a thought to the fact that today…I might have died…or that Adam
could have been killed…or that I would end the day by taking the life a man I
didn’t even know.”
Ben
heard the catch in his son’s voice and he tightened his arms a bit more.
Joe
leaned his head down on his father’s chest.
“Life is a mystery, isn’t it, Pa?
I understand now what you mean when you tell me to live today as if
today was the last day of my life…you know…it almost was. I love you, Pa,” whispered Joe, “I haven’t
said that in a long time, but I want you to know that I do.”
Ben
swallowed the lump that had thickened his throat. “I love you too, Joe…you just don’t know how
much I truly do.”
“Hey, you two going to stand out here all night or what?” Adam called from the
doorway.
“No
Adam,” Ben laughed as he guided Joe toward the house. “I think we’ll come inside, I believe Little
Joe is just about ready to drop. Hoss,
help me take him upstairs. Come on you
little scamp, bedtime…and we need to tend to these cuts and bruises too.”
“Aw
Pa…I’m fine, really,” Joe muttered, but he didn’t resist when his father and
Hoss took his arms and gently guided him upstairs.
They
had Joe in bed in a matter of minutes.
He was long asleep by the time Ben finished bathing his blistered,
battered and bruised body. Ben covered
his sleeping son with the blanket that he pulled from the foot of the bed.
Joe
slept through the night, the next day and far into the second night before he
woke. His eyes had swelled some, his lip
had been stitched by Doc Martin, salve for his sunburned chest and back had
been applied by Hop Sing.
“Well,
welcome back!” greeted Ben with a happy smile.
“Have
I been gone long?” Joe asked.
“A
couple of days, that’s all. How do you
feel?”
“Fine…where’s Adam, Pa…we were supposed to go fishing!” Joe said
as he made as if to climb out of bed.
“Whoa…just
where do you think you’re going, young man!” demanded
Ben. He gently pushed Joe back down and
covered him up. “It’s the middle of the
night!”
“Oh,”
stammered Joe, “I thought it was almost morning…Adam and I…”
“Little
Buddy,” Adam called from the door. He’d been
awakened by the ruckus of the argument that his little brother was having with
their father. “I promised that we’d go
fishing, but first…you have to get better.”
“I
am better,” Joe smiled.
His
smile faded and his expression changed.
He stared at his brother for a long moment before finding his voice.
“Thanks
Adam,” Joe said in a low voice.
“Thanks?”
puzzled Adam.
Ben
had seen the look that washed over Joe’s face and knew that the boy had
something on his mind that he needed to say to his brother. He took his cue and slipped unobserved from
his son’s room. There’d be plenty of
time come morning, to talk with both Adam and Joe. Ben pulled the door closed, but not before he
saw Adam sit down on the side of his brother’s bed and take Joe’s smaller hand
into his. He smiled to himself, they
might fight amongst themselves, but Ben knew that each of his sons would
readily give up their lives for the other.
He’d
done his job as a father; satisfaction swelled his chest. Somehow along the way, he’d been able to lead
his three sons into manhood, teach them honesty and integrity and how to love
one another. Joe had earned his first
notch, not something to brag about, but pride in the fact that he’d saved his
brother from certain death, justified the boy’s actions. It had been another milestone in his youngest
son’s life, a hard lesson to learn at such a tender age, but Ben had no doubt
that Joe would survive, he was after all, a Cartwright, and hadn’t the Cartwright
name survived for generations?
THE
END
August/September
2003