How
Do I Love Thee?
Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth
and height My soul can reach
By
DebbieB
“Ya one of us now, Cartwright…ya cain’t back out, ya dun
swore the oath!” stormed the oldest boy in the group. The tall lad, heavier than the boy in front
of him, waved his fist in a threatening manner at Little Joe.
“Yes
I can…I’ll have no part in what you’re planning to do, oath or no oath…it ain’t
right…in fact…I aim on telling my Pa!”
The
six bigger boys instantly made a ring around the smaller boy who continued to
twist his head from side to side in order to keep an eye on the others. One of the larger boys laughed; it sounded
vicious to the boy in the center of the circle and though his heart was beating
wildly and his body shook in fear of the six, he kept his repose until the
circle began to shrink.
The
six boys moved in closer, tightening the ring.
The smaller boy whipped around, glaring at the group who had him trapped
in the center by their bodies pinched tightly together. There was no escape,
there would be a fight not that it would amount to much. It would start quickly and end even quicker
for the odds were all stacked against the one lone boy. But the boy determined in his mind that his
attackers would not see his fear, and no matter how badly they beat him, he
would refuse to let them make him cry.
He folded his slender fingers into fists, and set his feet firmly and waited,
feeling as if he were an animal caught in a trap.
Joe
gulped and braced himself for the assault.
He kept his eyes on the boy who deemed himself leader of the pack, but
he failed to notice the one directly behind him when the other boy stepped into
the circle, breaking away from his cohorts.
When the boy jumped onto his back, Joe was knocked instantly to the
ground. Before he could collect his
thoughts, the others pounced on him and began pounding him with their
fists. Blow after blow was planted on
every part of Joe’s body. More than once
Joe felt sharp pains to his ribs when someone kicked him with the toe of their
boots. He tried rolling his body into a
ball to protect himself but the weight of the boys on top of his back,
prevented him from being able to do so.
There was no way he could defend himself and no way that he could return
what he was receiving.
Joe
was unaware just how long the attack lasted, only that it was over quickly and
that every inch of his battered body ached.
The group broke away, moving several feet from where Joe lay face down
in the dirt. Slowly, he raised his
head. The leader stepped forward and
then squatted down in front of Joe. Joe
tried not to let his tears be seen and he dropped his head back down, resting
his forehead on his arms.
“Take
that as a warning, Cartwright… ya squeal on us, ya won’t be so lucky, someone
other than ya might get hurt…got that?” snarled the boy.
The
boy stood up and motioned with his head for the others to follow him. They walked away as if nothing had happened, uncaring
that the boy on the ground was struggling to get up and fighting for each
breath he drew. When Joe finally made it
to his feet, he wiped at the blood that dripped from his nose and lips where he
had been punched and kicked. The blood
that dripped from one nostril stopped almost immediately, but the split in his
lip continued to seep and Joe could feel the swelling that rose and the
tingling sensation that went along with it.
He stifled a groan as he swayed precariously and tried to maintain his balance.
One eye was quickly closing and Joe could only imagine what his face must look
like with the split lip, bleeding nose and now the eye that was sure to turn
black.
Joe
glanced all around him; there was no one near by and he realized that if he were
going to make it home, he’d have to do it on his own. Joe staggered toward the tree where he had
left Cochise tied. His arm was folded
around his mid-section and when he walked it was with a limp. Joe tried to straighten his body, but it was
no use, he bent over, giving in to the pain that surged through his rib cage
and tried to suck in large gulps of air.
His stomach had begun to churn and Joe feared that he might vomit. He was dizzy and had to pause, leaning
against his horse until the faintness passed.
“Easy
boy,” moaned Joe as he struggled to mount his horse.
It
took several attempts before Joe was finally able to swing his leg across the
saddle. He righted himself as best he
could and then nudged gently at the horse’s sides. The ride home would take him hours, with the
pain seemingly on the increase he was unable to ride any faster than a mere
walk. Trotting jarred his body, so Joe
ruled that out after the first try. His
father would be fit to be tied, reasoned Joe.
It would be after dark by the time that he reached home and knowing how
his father worried about him, Joe knew that he’d be hard pressed to escape a
long lecture if Ben’s mood was dark when he reached home.
Ben
opened the front door and stood staring into the darkness. His face was shrouded with a deep frown and
an angry glare highlighted his deep brown eyes.
He was furious with his youngest son.
Joseph had promised to come straight home from school this afternoon,
but once again the boy was late. Tonight
made the third time this week that Joe had failed to do as instructed and his
father’s patience had finally worn out.
There would be severe punishment in store for the boy, Ben had
decided. He’d restrict Joe to his room
until he had time to determine what method of punishment would be rendered, and
then he…
“Pa? Did you hear what I said?” Adam placed a hand on his father’s shoulder,
surprising Ben.
“I’m
sorry, son, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
Ben stepped back into the room and closed the door.
“I
asked if you wanted Hoss and I to saddle up and go
look for Joe?” Adam repeated his question.
Ben,
his lips drawn tight, shook his head.
“No…let the boy come home on his own. I’m really anxious to see what excuse he has
for tonight’s tardiness,” grumbled Ben as he moved slowly back to his desk.
Adam
glanced over at Hoss who was standing before the fireplace, listening. Adam could see the worry on his middle
brother’s face. Ben lowered himself into
his chair and looked up at Adam who had followed him.
“I
was considering letting Little Joe quit school.
He is sixteen now, most boys do quit when they get his age and I was
thinking of letting this be his last year, but now…I just don’t know.” Ben shook his head from side to side. “That boy show’s no responsibly whatsoever. All I asked of him was to come straight home
after school.” He paused and looked at
Adam and then Hoss who had joined them, “and he can’t even follow the simplest
of instructions, how in tarnation does he expect me to trust him to do the
things around this ranch that he’d be doing if he wasn’t in school?” growled
Ben.
“Aw
Pa…maybe Joe’s horse lost a shoe and he’s awalkin’ home, or maybe…”
“Hoss…I
know you mean well, but don’t say anymore.
We all know that Joe has…”
They
all paused when the sound of the front door opened and banged closed. Ben jumped to his feet and rounded the corner
of his desk.
“JOSEPH!”
he bellowed.
Joe
was standing with his back to his father, facing the credenza. His hat had been removed and tossed onto the top
of the table.
“LOOK
AT ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU!” ordered Ben who now stood with his hands on each
hip and his feet placed firmly on the floor.
His
brown eyes had turned to ebony and his thick brows were drawn together. There was no doubt that Ben Cartwright was
madder than he had been in a very long time.
Adam
and Hoss stood shoulder to shoulder, silently, waiting for the full explosion
of anger that was rapidly reaching the boiling point.
“JOSEPH,
TURN AROUND!”
It
took what strength was left in his body and sheer willpower for the boy to turn
and face his father. Joe’s arm wrapped
itself back across his stomach and his head was bent low.
“I’m
sorry, Pa…I…can…explain.”
Joe
raised his head momentarily but his knees buckled at the same instant and the
boy crumbled to the floor in a heap.
“JOSEPH!”
shouted Ben as he rushed to his son’s side.
His hands, gentle, quickly turned Joe over and gathered the boy into his
arms.
“Dear
God,” muttered Ben, seeing Joe’s battered and bruised face. His anger had left him the second that he had
see Joe fall to the floor and the whys and what fors that he had expected were
now forgotten.
Ben
lifted Joe into his arms and hurried to place him onto the settee. “Hoss, tell Hop Sing to get me some soap and
water…Adam, pour him a brandy, please.”
Ben
brushed back the dampened locks of hair from Joe’s brow. “Joseph, can you hear me, son?” he pleaded
softly.
“Pa?”
groaned Joe. He raised his hand,
searching for his father’s tender touch.
Ben
grasped Joe’s hand in his. “I’m here,
Joe. What happened? Who did this to you?”
Joe
kept his eyes pinched tightly shut. The
pain in his ribs when he fell to the floor had seemed to feel as if a sharp
pointed knife had been buried into his side.
He groaned and tried to take a deep breath.
“Oh…hurts…hurts…
“Take
it easy, sweetheart,” Ben instructed softly as he clung to Joe’s hand. “Adam, send one of the men for Doc Martin and
then help me get Joe into bed.”
“I’ll
do it Adam, you stay and help Pa,” said Hoss who had just returned with the
basin of water and soap.
Hoss
passed the basin to Hop Sing who set down the medical supplies, and then Hoss
headed for the door. The sight of his
little brother and the pitiful sounds that Joe was making,
was more than the tenderhearted Hoss could stand. And he was mad; furious at whoever had beaten
the boy as they had, and he secretly vowed to find whomever
it was and return the favor.
“Can
you walk, Joe?” Adam asked as he slipped his arm beneath Joe and helped him to
rise.
Ben
was on the other side of the boy and placed his arm around Joe’s waist. When he tightened his hold in order to keep
Joe on his feet, Joe cried out, making a painful noise.
“It…hurts…”wept
Joe between breaths.
They
had taken only a few short steps when Joe’s knees buckled and he was no longer
able to stand. Joe slumped downward,
crying as his brother gathered him into his strong arms and hurried up the
stairs with him. Once in his brother’s
room, Adam carefully laid Joe on his bed and stepped back as Ben came forth and
leaned down over his son.
“Get
the medical supplies, Adam, we left them downstairs…and the soap and water…oh,
son…don’t forget the alcohol,” Ben asked as he turned his attention to his
youngest son.
Adam
slipped quickly from the room. Ben sat
down on the edge of the bed, taking Joe’s hand into his.
“Joseph,
can you hear me?”
Joe
nodded his head slightly and tried to open his one good eye. “I…hear…ya,” he moaned.
“Son,
can you tell your Pa, who beat you like this?” Ben
questioned.
Joe
could barely make out the concern and worry on his father’s face looking at his
parent with only one eye. But he could
certainly hear the anxiety in Ben’s voice.
Joe longed to blurt out the entire story, but something deep within
himself warned him not to mention names.
He was sure if he did, the group of boys would come looking for him a
second time, and hadn’t the ringleader warned him against squealing on
them? Joe pinched his lips tightly to
keep from spilling his guts to his father.
Ben’s
watchful eyes had seen the hesitation on his son’s face but believed that the
tight lips were due to the discomfort that the boy was feeling.
“Son,
are you in much pain?” whispered Ben as he brushed the damp cloth gently over
Joe’s battered face while he wiped gently at the dried blood and crusted dirt.
“Some,”
muttered Joe.
He
felt a measure of relief that his father had not pressed him for an answer to
his question. For now, he was safe, but
later, Joe knew that he would have to come up with some sort of answer that
would satisfy his father.
Ben
cleaned the scrapes and abrasions and bathed Joe’s body. Joe tried not to let the pain show on his
face, but he knew that with his father’s watchful eyes, Joe wasn’t fooling
anyone. Even Adam who had come back into
the room with the needed medical supplies was watching the boy’s face intently.
“Has
he said anything, Pa…I mean about who did this to him?” Adam asked in a soft
whisper.
Ben
had finished tending to Joe’s surface wounds but the other, more severe injuries, would have to wait for the doctor’s arrival.
Ben
shook his head. “No, I asked him, but he
wouldn’t say,” answered Ben. “He’s
hurting right now Adam, maybe later, after Paul has fixed him up and given him
something to make his rest. He’ll feel
better then, I suppose we’ll just have to wait.”
Adam
stood to his feet; his body language spoke volumes of what he was feeling
inside. He walked to the window, gazed
out and then whirled back around to face his father.
“I
don’t like waiting!” he snapped in a deep tone.
Ben
was instantly on his feet and hurried to face Adam. His own face showed his deep concern and
anger at the situation and Ben did not try to hide it from his oldest son.
“Well,
neither do I!
Do you think for one minute I wouldn’t like to get my hands on the
person responsible for nearly beating my son half to death?” growled Ben.
His
eyes were dark and he stood rigid with his hands on his hips. “Well?” he demanded in a stern voice.
Adam
let out a long sigh, his lips tightened.
“I’m sorry, Pa…I didn’t mean to imply…”
“It’s
all right, son,” Ben said as his expression softened. He put his hand on Adam’s shoulder for a
moment.
The
bedroom door opened and when both Adam and his father turned, it was with a
look of relief that they greeted the doctor and Hoss.
“Paul…thank
goodness, you’re here,” Ben greeted the physician with a quick handshake.
Paul
returned the greeting and moved quickly to the bedside. “Let’s have a look at this boy,” he said as
he pulled the blankets back so that he could make his examination.
The
physician stared in disbelief at the bruising on Joe’s body, his face, arms,
upper body and he could not retain his gasp when he found the darkening
blotches that dotted Joe’s lower body as well.
“Dear
God, Ben…who did this?” Paul questioned with a shocked look on his face when he
turned and faced the boy’s father.
“He
hasn’t said,” Ben said quietly.
“Whomever did, needs to be in jail!” Paul made no attempt to hide his disgust from
his patient’s family.
“What
they need is a good poundin’,” Hoss spoke up to say.
“I
agree with Hoss,” added Adam, “and as soon as Joe is able to tell us who it
was, that’s exactly what they’re going to get!”
“All
right boys, that’ll be enough,” ordered Ben.
He reached for the door and pulled it opened. “Out with you…both of you…wait
downstairs. I’ll be down as soon as Paul
has finished with your brother.”
Ben
saw his sons hesitate and nodded with his head toward the door. He understood their anger, for he felt the
same as they did, but for now, there was nothing he could do, but wait until
Joe was ready to talk.
“Go
on,” he said in a soft voice. Ben gave
each of them a small smile as they gave in to his demand and started toward the
door.
“Joe’s
gonna be alright, ain’t he, doc?” Hoss had paused at the door and turned back
around.
Paul
glanced up from his work and gave Hoss a comforting nod of his head. “I believe he’ll be fine, Hoss…in a week or
two…don’t you worry,” Paul said. He
turned back to his patient, still talking.
“It’s going to take more than this to keep this little scamp down.”
Hoss
glanced at his father with a smile spreading across his rotund face as he
quickly looked at Adam, too.
A
short time later, Paul turned to face the anxious father. He was wiping his hands on a cloth and when
he finished, he tossed it into the basin.
Paul began rolling down his sleeves as Ben waited for the verdict.
“As
I told Hoss, he’s going to be fine, Ben, but I want him to stay in this bed for
the next several days. I don’t think
you’ll have any problem with him wanting to get up,
he’s taken a good beating. He has a
couple of cracked ribs, as you can see.
Other than the busted lip, black eye and the bruising, I think Joe fared
quite well. He’s going to be sore and
moving will be uncomfortable for several days that’s
why I’m leaving you these powders.
They’ll ease the pain and help him sleep. That’s what he needs right now, plenty of
rest…it’ll give his body time to start the healing process before he starts
giving you too much trouble about not wanting to stay in that bed. I want you to watch him though for the next
couple days, if there is any sign of blood in the urine or if he coughs any up
I want to know right away. I’m not
anticipating any internal injuries, but I want to be careful, you understand,
don’t you?”
“You
don’t think…” began Ben.
Paul
slipped on his coat and smiled. “Don’t
worry, Ben…the boy’s going to be fine, barring any complications, I promise.”
Ben
couldn’t stop his eyes from seeking the boy’s face, but he did turn to his
friend and nodded. “Thanks for coming
out, Paul.”
“Anytime Ben, anytime. You just
remember to keep him as still as possible and see to it that he takes those
powders.”
They
had made their way down the stairs to the great room. Hoss and Adam were instantly on their feet.
“Paul
says Joe has a couple of cracked ribs but that he’ll be fine in a few days,”
smiled Ben.
“That’s
good news,” Adam declared as he shook the doctor’s hand.
“Sure
‘nough is,” added Hoss, “can I go see’em?”
“He’s
sleeping right now, but I think if you’re quiet, you can go sit with him for a
little while…and then Hoss…give someone else a turn,” laughed the doctor, for
Hoss was already half way up the stairs.
Hoss
slipped quietly into the room and eased a chair over, next to the bed and sat
down. Hoss studied his brother’s face,
appalled by the whiteness of Joe’s skin in contrast to the dark bruises. The sight made Hoss’ stomach churn and he
scrunched up his face at the pitiful picture his little brother made. He carefully picked up Joe’s hand and held it
momentarily within his larger one. Hoss’
thumb gently caressed the back of his brother’s hand and across the knuckles. He noticed the scraps atop the joints where
Joe had tried to fight back and when he looked more closely, Hoss noted that
under a couple of the nails, his father had failed to remove all the dirt. He lifted the cover slightly and placed Joe’s
arm beneath. For a second longer, Hoss
remained with the blanket raised as he gazed at the bandage that the doctor had
wrapped snugly about Joe’s chest in order to keep the broken rips from being
jarred. Hoss also spotted the bruises on
Joe’s arms and when he dared to peek further, on his brother’s legs. He lowered the blanket; a dark look crossed
his face as he thought of the beating that his younger brother had been made to
suffer. Hoss was passed being angry, he
was furious and silently he vowed to seek out the one, or ones who had given
Joe the pounding.
“I’ll
get’em for ya, Short Shanks,” Hoss whispered softly as he wiped the dampness
that threatened to turn to tears. “Ya
jist wait an’ see!”
A while later, Ben slipped into the room. Hoss was dozing in the chair and had begun to
snore softly. Ben glanced at Joe and saw
that the boy was resting quietly. He
touched his hand to Hoss’ shoulder, waking the bigger boy with a start. Hoss glanced first at Joe and then up at his
father. Ben smiled.
“Why
don’t you go on to bed, son, I’ll sit with Joe for awhile,” encouraged Ben.
“Alright,
“No,
I’m fine Hoss, but thank you.” Ben
settled himself in the chair that Hoss had been sitting in and watched Joe as
he slept. He sighed deeply.
“Ya
gonna be alright, Pa?” Hoss asked from the doorway.
Ben
turned his head around toward Hoss and nodded.
“I was just wondering who did this, that’s all,” answered Ben.
“Me
too, I’d sure ‘nough like to get my hands on who ever it was,” Hoss said
between clenched teeth.
“Hoss,”
Ben stood up and moved to the door. “I
don’t want to hear anymore talk like that…do you hear me? We’ll let the law handle it when Joe wakes up
and can tell us what happened.”
“I’m
sorry, Pa…it’s jist that…well, the boy ain’t hardly
big ‘nough to fight one fella, let alone more’n one at a time,” Hoss muttered.
“What
makes you think Joe was fighting more than one?” Ben asked, glancing back at
Joe who had moaned softly.
“Look
at’em, Pa…one fella couldn’t have done that much damage…no matter how much
bigger than Joe he might have been…It had to be more’n one…and if’n it
was…well, me and Adam dun decided to…”
“You
and Adam have decided nothing! Do I make
myself clear? I said that
Ben
turned back into the room and closed the door, leaving Hoss standing alone in
the hallway. He couldn’t blame his sons
for feeling as they did, he felt the same but there was no way he would give
his older boys permission to seek out whomever had beaten Joe and take the law
in their own hands. Besides, decided Ben
as he smoothed the blankets covering his son, the ones who did this were most
likely boys…and his sons were grown men.
“Pa…”
The
soft murmur drew Ben’s attention to the boy on the bed.
“I’m
right here son,” Ben said, taking a seat on the edge, next to Joe.
Joe
struggled to open the one eye that had somehow escaped the beating. “Water…” Joe begged,
his voice barely above a whisper.
Ben
quickly poured a glass of water and returned to the bed. He gently raised Joe’s head and tipped the
glass to the bruised lips. Joe instantly
tried to pull his head back, causing a few drops of water to dribble down his
chin.
“Hurts…”
he cried.
“Alright
son,” Ben said, removing the glass and helping Joe to lower his head. “Let’s do this with a spoon.”
After
Joe’s thirst had been satisfied Ben placed the glass and the spoon on the
bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Feel
better?” he asked Joe.
Joe
slowly nodded his head. “Thanks, Pa,” he
muttered.
“Joe…I
don’t want to press you…but can you tell me who did this to you?” Ben
inquired. He gently brushed at a fallen
lock of hair, and waited.
Joe
closed his eye; the other was swollen shut.
For several moments he was silent until his father had begun to think
that perhaps Joe had fallen back to sleep.
“Son?”
Joe
opened his eye, seeing his father’s face looming over him. “Pa…please…I don’t want…to talk about…it.”
“But
Joseph…whomever it was, needs to be punished…you
have…”
“NO!”
snapped Joe. “It doesn’t
matter…besides…I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t
tell me? Joe, that makes no sense…why on
earth can’t you tell me?”
“Pa…”
Joe felt his throat constrict and he fought the urge to cry. “I just can’t…besides…I…I…don’t know who they
were…” he lied.
Ben
was getting angry. “That doesn’t make
any sense either…why would someone just beat you nearly to death if they didn’t
have a reason…or think that they had?”
“Pa…I
don’t feel so good…please…can I just go back to sleep?”
Joe’s
chin had begun to quiver and he was afraid that if his father insisted on
continuing this questioning, he would break and spill his guts. Cory’s warning stuck in his mind…Joe had no
doubt that the other boy and his gang of thugs would make good his
promise. Next time, the beating would be
worse, or someone else might get hurt…and Joe wanted no part in being the cause
of someone else’s pain.
Yet
a part of Joe Cartwright knew that what the boys were planning was wrong…and if
they carried through with their plan…someone might get hurt, or worse,
killed. His inner self knew that he
should tell his father, but the beating he’d just received was too fresh, his
pain too new and his fear of the group weighed heavier at the present than his
conscience.
Ben
could see that he was getting no where in questioning his son, and also knew
that the more he pressed Joe for an answer, the less likely he was in finding
out what he wanted to know. Joe was
famous for tucking away his feelings and only allowed them to surface when he
was ready…Ben had no choice at the time, he would have to wait until Joe was ready
to talk. Hopefully that would be soon,
for whoever had beaten the boy was still at large and though Ben would never
voice aloud to his son, his fears for the boy’s well being, he was afraid for
the boy. He had no idea what was the
reasoning behind the beating, and he could only wonder that the person or
persons responsible might try again.
Two
days later, when Joe was able to sit up in bed, Ben was no closer to getting an
answer to his question than when he had first asked Joe about it. He paced back and forth in front of the
fireplace, his fingers stuffed into the openings of his pockets. Hoss and Adam had seated themselves on the
settee and while Ben paced, they waited for Roy Coffee, the town’s sheriff to
come down the stairs. He had arrived earlier
and had insisted on talking to Joe about what had happened. Ben warned his friend that it wasn’t likely
that Joe would open up and give him the information that he was seeking, but he
was welcomed to try.
All
heads turned toward the steps when they heard the upstairs bedroom door
close. The three watched as
Ben
looked expectantly at the sheriff.
“I
don’t understand it Ben, he won’t tell me a thing. If’n I didn’t know no better, I’d say the boy
was protecting someone!” announced
“That’s
ridiculous,” stammered Ben. “Why on
earth would Joe want to protect the person who beat him?”
“Now
Ben, how should I know…he’s your son.
Has he told ya anything, more than he didn’t know, or couldn’t tell ya?”
inquired
Ben
let out a puff of air. “No…no he hasn’t…and I don’t understand why!”
“Pa?”
Adam said as he joined his father at his side.
“Maybe Joe’s afraid to say…I mean…it’s possible that whoever it was,
threatened him. Perhaps Joe’s afraid of
someone else getting hurt…or earning himself another beating?”
“That’s
possible, I haven’t thought about that, but Adam…that still doesn’t explain why
Joe was beaten…only that he’s afraid to say who it was,” Ben said.
“Maybe
he seen sumthin’ he shouldn’t have…and he was beaten so’s he wouldn’t tell what
he seen,” suggested Hoss.
“Ya
know, Ben…Hoss might have somethin’ there.
There sure has been a lot of unexplained things goin’ on ‘round town,”
pondered
“What
do you mean,
“Well…old
man Swanson came in today, he was madder than a hornet too…said that someone
salted his well and turned all his horses out of his corral. The old man complained that it took him and
his men all day to round up those strays and get’em back to the corral. Swanson
also told me that someone threw a rock through his window with a note attached that
said he need beware…things were heatin’ up…well Ben, I think this is more than
a bunch of kids playin’ pranks of folks,” explained Roy.
“What
did that mean…things were heatin’ up?” Hoss asked, puzzled by the comment.
“Don’t
know…Swanson don’t know either. He did
say that he saw a couple’la boys nosing around his barn the other night. In
fact Ben,”
“Did
he see who they were?” asked Adam.
“No,
they run off afore he could see their faces well enough to recognize them,” explained
“Reckon
Joe seen sumthin’ he shouldn’t of?” Hoss spoke up before the others. “Maybe he planned on tellin’ on’em, that’d be
reason ‘nough to get beat up.”
“Might
be he knows more’em he’s atellin’ ya Ben,” predicted
Ben
and Adam swapped troubled looks. Ben’s
brows raised slightly.
“Are you suggesting,
“No…I
ain’t asayin’ that Ben…but Hoss is right, the boy might of
seen somthin’,” answered
“But
the Swanson place is all the way on the other side of
“He
went with me, right after the Swansons moved in,” Adam told his father. “In fact, both of us helped Mrs. Swanson
carry in some boxes.”
Ben
seemed to be thinking while the others had grown quiet. “I suppose the only thing to do, is for me to
question Little Joe again,” sighed Ben.
“I’ll be back, make yourself at home
Ben
turned and marched up the stairs. He
dreaded the confrontation with his youngest son. Joe still wasn’t feeling up to par, and when
Ben had last questioned the boy, Joe almost had burst out in tears.
Ben
rapped lightly on the door and then gently pushed it opened. When he peeked inside, he could see Joe
propped up in the bed with his head resting back against the pillows. An opened book was spread across his lap. When Joe heard his father, he raised his head
and smiled.
“Hi
ya, Pa,” the boy smiled.
“Hi son. How are you feeling?” Ben asked
as he pulled the chair to the side of the bed.
“I
ain’t hurtin’, much, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“That’s
a good sign. Maybe when the doctor comes
out tomorrow, he’ll let you go downstairs for a while, how would you like
that?” smiled Ben.
“I’d
like it fine…I’m about tired of these four walls,” Joe said as his smile faded.
Ben
glanced around at the room as if to agree with his son. “Joe, I was wondering something…” he said a
moment later.
“Pa…if
it’s about what happened to me…” Joe hung his head, not wanting to look into
his father’s eyes for fear of revealing the truth about what happened. He was worried about what Cory might do next,
and who might get hurt in the process.
“Well,
not really…but the sheriff had some interesting facts to share with us.”
“Really? Like what?”
His
father’s words had spiked his interest and he found himself hard pressed to
keep it from showing. He had been wondering
what Cory and the others had been up to since he had been laid up, and he hoped
that he had not followed through with his plans to…
“He
said someone salted Owen Swanson’s well and then threw a rock though his
window. Seems there was a warning attached
to it that rather frightened him and his wife.
Mr. Swanson said that he spied a couple of boys messing around his barn,
but they ran off before he could see who they were,” Ben said.
He
tried to keep his voice calm and not make it sound as if he were pressing the
boy for information, but rather just sharing with him what Roy had told them.
“A warning…what kind of warning?” Joe asked worriedly.
He
knew that Cory hated the Swansons. The
boy had blamed the older gentleman for his father losing their farm. Cory’s father had been so far in debt and the
back taxes had added up to such that Mr. Melton had been unable to pay
them. When the banker said either pay up
or the ranch goes up for public auction, Cory’s pa had become so enraged at the
banker, that he had pulled a gun on the man and threatened to kill him. Mr. Swanson had been standing nearby when the
incident took place and when he saw what was happening, he slipped in behind
the other man and knocked the gun from Mr. Melton’s hand.
Mr.
Melton had been held in Roy Coffee’s jail until he simmered down and two days
later, after the sale of his ranch,
Cory
had told Joe and the others what had transpired that night and the boy had gone
on to tell them that he had promised himself that one day he would get back at
Mr. Swanson for killing his father and for stealing their farm from them. Joe had known the boy for little over a year
and though he wasn’t overly fond of Cory, he had felt a measure of pity for the
boy. The fact that Cory had very few friends, was another factor that had drawn Joe to the
boy. Only after Joe had gotten to know
Cory better, had he learned that Cory had more friends than first thought and
that those friends were much older than himself and were no longer in school.
“The
note said that Mr. Swanson should be aware and that things were beginning to
heat up.” While Ben had been explaining
about the note, Joe had been lost in his own thoughts and when his father had
begun speaking, Joe was drawn away from his pondering.
“
“And
he thinks I can?” stammered Joe in an accusing tone of voice.
His
father’s words, and the fact that two boys were seen around the Swanson’s barn,
gave Joe reason to fear that Cory and his gang might be getting ready to set a
fire. A fire that Joe feared might just
as easily cause the death of the older man and his elderly wife.
“Joe,
calm down,
Ben’s
hand reached for Joe’s and gently took his son’s into his own. “You don’t know anything about all of this…do
you son?” he asked as calmly as he could.
Joe’s
eye darted to his father’s face and just as quickly Joe looked the other
way. “How would I know…” his voice
faltered right at that moment and he hated himself for having to lie to his
father.
“I
don’t know anything…how could I, I’ve been lying in this bed for three days?”
snapped Joe.
“It
happened the night you were beaten,” stated Ben.
He was
more positive than ever now, after seeing the look on Joe’s face, that Joe did,
in fact know more than he was willing to tell.
“So?”
“So…I
would like to think that if you did know something, you would be honest enough
to tell me,” Ben said, fighting to control the emotion in his voice.
“You
think I’m lying?” Joe practically shouted.
His eyes filled with tears and began to seep from his one good eye.
“Joseph,
I didn’t say that…and I didn’t mean to make you think…”
“Then
why’d ya even bother to ask me in the first place, if
ya already had your mind set that I was fibbing to you?” Joe began to cry in earnest. “You never believe anything I say…why should
this time be any different?”
“Son,
please…I didn’t mean…”
“Yes
you did!” cried Joe as he lowered himself down in the bed and tried to turn
away from his father.
Ben
stood silently, heartbroken that his son had become so upset with his
questioning. He leaned down, pulling the
covers up around Joe’s body and hesitated briefly before placing his lips to
Joe’s cheek and kissing the boy gently.
“I’m
sorry Joseph. You rest now, we’ll talk
again later.” Joe made no response to
his father and Ben turned at last and left the room.
The
next afternoon, Paul did give Joe the freedom to be up and about for short
periods of time. Joe made the most of it
too, the first place he wanted to be, was outside. Ben, after much arguing
with the boy, allowed Joe to sit on the side porch with him while he worked on
the books. Joe had brought the
book along that he had been reading and was lost in the pages when the sounds
of an approaching horse caused him to look up.
Instantly, Joe glanced at his father and then back at the rider.
Ben
had seen Joe cast his eyes sideways at him and Ben had noted the troubled expression
that Joe quickly masked as well. He
could only wonder at the reasoning and more so, why this particular young man
happened to be stopping by.
“Joe,
isn’t that Sam Melton’s son?” Ben said in a low tone as he watched the boy dismount
and tie his horse’s reigns to the hitching rail.
“Hum…yeah,
Pa…that’s Cory,” Joe answered without looking at his father.
“Wonder
why on earth he’s here?” said Ben and then hushed as the boy made his way
toward them.
“Hi
ya, Little Joe,” Cory smiled as he tossed his hand up in salute. “Mr. Cartwright?” he greeted Ben.
“Cory,”
answered Ben, somewhat caught off guard by the boy’s friendly greeting to
Joe.
He
hadn’t been aware that the Melton boy was a friend of Joe’s. It wasn’t what Ben would have preferred, for
he had heard talk about the boy in town.
It seemed to Ben that the boy had a reputation as being a troublemaker,
according to the sheriff, and the fact that Cory was a couple of years older
than Joe wasn’t a plus either. Ben stood
for a moment and watched his son. The
smile that was present only minutes before, was gone now and in it’s place was the beginnings of a scowl, and Joe seemed a
bit uncomfortable, either by the boy’s arrival or his father’s lingering
presence, Ben wasn’t sure.
“Hi
Cory,” Joe said in a small voice. “What
brings you out this way?”
Ben
heard the slight quiver in Joe’s voice and made a quick look at his son’s
expression.
Cory
grinned from ear to ear, a smile that in Ben’s thinking,
was forced and not altogether sincere.
There was something going on between the two boys, of that Ben was
certain, and whatever it was, definitely was making his own son
uncomfortable. It was for sure, by the
actions of his son, that Ben could easily see that Joe was not happy with the
other boy’s visit.
“I
came by to see how ya was. Some of the fellas in town was talkin’ about
what a bad way ya was in…I thought I’d drop by and see for myself,” Cory said
in a voice that he tried to make sound as if he really was concerned.
“Well,
now you’ve seen,” snapped Joe, forgetting his father who still stood behind
him.
Ben
cleared his throat, drawing Joe’s attention away from his quest. Joe turned to his father, seeing the look of
dismay on his face. He gulped, worried
that with Cory’s appearance, Ben might get suspicious and start
asking questions again.
“If
you boys will excuse me, I have some things to take care of inside. I’ll let
you two visit for a while without me hanging around,”
laughed Ben lightly.
The
remark caused Cory to laugh as well.
“Cory…it’s
nice to see you again. I hope your
mother is well?” Ben asked kindly.
“Oh
yessir, Ma’s fine, thank ya for asking, Mr. Cartwright,” smiled Cory.
“Joseph,
don’t be too long son, you know what the doctor said about you only staying up
for a short time,” Ben added before he turned to leave.
“All
right, Pa…I won’t be long…I promise,” Joe said as he offered a small smile to
his father.
Cory
was relieved to know that the old man had no inkling what he had done to his
son. He glanced at Joe and smiled though
the smile was more a smirk. Satisfaction
shown in Cory’s eyes and Joe was quick to note the glimmer. It made him mad and he glared at the other
boy, who only laughed again.
When
Ben had gone inside and closed the door, Joe turned on Cory.
“Why
in blazes are you here?” he demanded.
“I
dun told ya…I came by to see how ya was makin’ out,” Cory said as he plopped
himself down in the chair that Ben had been sitting in.
“Fine,
you’ve seen, now go home!” snarled Joe.
“Now…now…Little
Joe, is that anyway to treat a friend?” laughed Cory.
Joe’s
temper was quickly reaching the boiling point and it showed on his face. “You aren’t a friend of mine…now get out of here,”
he ordered.
Cory
stood to his feet, towering over Joe.
The laughter died and the smile disappeared. The older boy leaned down, near Joe’s
face.
“I
just wanted to make sure ya heeded my warnin’ about keepin’ ya mouth shut about
my business. And I’m glad to see ya
have.” Cory grinned then and patted
Joe’s cheek with his opened palm. The
third pat was hard and caused Joe to draw back.
“There’s
gonna be a barn burnin’ soon, Little Joe…ya best
continue to keep ya mouth shut, lessen ya wanna see someone git hurt real bad
like.”
Joe
wormed his way upward from his chair and inched his body away from the other
young man. “Your
crazy, Cory…just plain crazy. Why
do you want to burn Mr. Swanson’s barn and take the chance on hurting the old
man, maybe even his wife? They’ve never
done anything to you…”
Cory’s
face twisted into a snarl and he glared angrily at Joe. “Never did anythin’ to me? Why that ole coot stole my pa’s farm right out
from under him and then murdered him in cold blood!” growled Cory.
“That’s
a lie and you know it, Cory. Old man
Swanson was just protecting himself from your father. Your pa drew on him and if Mr. Swanson hadn’t
of fired in self-defense, your pa would have killed him…and as for the farm, he
bought that place for the back taxes, everyone knows that! My pa told me all about it when it happened,”
argued Joe.
“Well,
ya ole man don’t know everythin’! Ain’t nobody seed what happened, ‘ceptin’ for
Swanson and my pa…and my pa ain’t here to tell his side of the story!”
Cory
had circled behind Joe and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Mind what I said, Cartwright…ya open ya
mouth…I might just have to come back here and finish what I started, once I’m
dun with the old man and his wife…”
Joe
turned slowly around and stared at the boy.
“I’m not afraid of you, Cory…you go near the Swansons barn, and I’ll
tell my pa. That’s a promise and he’ll…”
“Could
be another fire too, sure would hate to see that one over there, go up in
smoke, ‘specially with that purty pinto of yours
trapped inside, not to mention all them other fine horses ya pa’s got.” Cory nodded his head toward the Cartwright
barn, making his meaning plain to Joe.
He laughed when he saw the fear that suddenly showed on Joe’s young
face.
“Don’t
try me, kid…ya’ll never win…that’s a promise!”
Cory
moved away from Joe and started toward his horse. “See ya ‘round, Little Joe.”
Joe
stood rooted to the same spot, never turning his head to watch the boy ride
away. When Joe was sure that Cory was
gone, he lowered himself into the chair and leaned back his head, closing his
eyes.
Joe
sat for several long minutes, lost in thoughts.
He tried to tell himself that Cory was just spouting off at the mouth,
that he would never really have the guts to set fire to a man’s barn, but Joe
wasn’t totally convinced that Cory wouldn’t do as he had sworn to do, either.
Joe
glanced around at his own barn. How
could he live with himself if they lost their barn? What if Cory meant what he said, that if Joe
should tell anyone what Cory’s plans were, he would sneak in some night when
they were all asleep and set fire to the Cartwright’s barn. What about the horses…Cochise! Joe’s worried thoughts suddenly turned to his
pinto and the picture that Cory had painted of their barn blazing and all of
their prized horses trapped inside.
A
sob caught deep within Joe’s throat and he silently cursed himself for ever
thinking that he could somehow be a friend to a boy such as Cory Melton. Joe now regretted the day that he had
disregarded Adam’s warning that he stay away from the Melton boy, and instead
had befriended the young man. Adam had tried to tell him that Cory was trouble
and if not careful would manage to pull him into it as well. And Adam had been right, for there had been
several incidents where Joe had gotten home later than he should have, because
of meeting up with Cory and his gang, and Ben had let his anger be known.
What
was he to do…who could he turn to now, certainly not his father, for Joe feared
his father’s wrath should he find out that he had been party to some of Cory’s
pranks around town. And for sure not
Adam, for his older brother would only smirk and tell him, ‘I told you
so’. There was always Hoss, but Hoss
would only want him to go straight to their father and admit the entire truth…a
truth that Joe would just as soon not have to admit.
Joe
squeezed his eyes tightly shut. It had
only been harmless fun, or so he thought at the time. Loosening a saddle cinch here and there, over
turning the apple bin that Mr. Cass had placed outside on the boardwalk in
front of his store. Joe had stood
silently in the background with Cory while the other boys actually pulled the
pranks and had snickered along with the others when customers stumbled over the
spilled fruit.
Joe
shook his head in disgust. “I can’t
believe I was so stupid, to think that was funny,” he muttered to himself.
Joe
heard the sound of soft laughter behind him and quickly drew himself to attention. He twisted around, surprised to see his
oldest brother standing behind him, with a cheeky grin on his face.
“You
having a private conversation, little brother?” teased Adam as he came onto the
porch and made himself comfortable in the other chair.
“Ha,
ha, ha,” sneered Joe.
Adam
ignored the smirk on his brother’s face.
“I just passed Cory Melton, what was he doing here?” Adam asked.
“He
came to see me, what’s it to you?” growled Joe, rising to his feet.
“Nothing
to me, Joe, just curious, that’s all. I
wasn’t aware he was friend of yours…I thought I warned you about him.” Adam leaned his chair back and propped his
feet up on the table. He had a tiny
piece of straw stuck between his teeth and he eyed his brother closely.
“He’s
not a friend of mine!” snapped Joe, turning to glare at Adam.
“Then
why was he here?”
“None of your business!” Joe turned
to leave; he had to get away before he allowed himself to say too much.
Joe
heard Adam’s boots as they hit the porch.
“Joe, wait a minute,” Adam called as he rose to his feet.
Joe
stopped, but refused to turn around.
Adam quickly moved to his brother’s side, noting how rigid Joe was
standing. When he placed his hand on his
brother’s shoulder, he was surprised at the trembling feeling that surged
beneath his fingers. He stepped around
in front of Joe, facing the boy. The
bright glistening shine in his brother’s eyes stunned the older of the two.
Joe
dropped his head, a tiny bead of water rolled gently down his face. Adam saw the boy swallow.
“Joe,”
Adam said softly, “what’s wrong, buddy?”
Joe
could not form the words nor force them to his lips. He feared what Cory would do, he was worried
what his father would think and say to him, and he felt as if he had no one to
whom he could turn. Joe hurt from head
to toe from the beating he’d received, and feared more, should he admit to what
he knew.
“Joe?”
Joe
shook his head and finally looked up, surprised to see the compassion in his
brother’s eyes. He hesitated briefly
before speaking.
“There’s
nothing wrong! Just leave me alone, Adam
and mind your own business!”
With
that, Joe shoved his way around Adam and went into the house, slamming the door
behind him. The minute he was inside, he
drew a deep breath and hurried up the stairs and into his room where he lay
down across the bed. The tears that he
fought so hard to control finally were granted their release.
“What
was that all about?” Ben asked Adam minutes later when Adam entered the house.
Ben
had been sitting at his desk and had started to call out to Joe when he had
seen the strange look on the boy's face as he rushed up the stairs. Ben had stood and started
toward the door sure that he had just heard Adam’s voice, when Adam came into
the house.
“Not
sure, Pa,” Adam said as he took his gunbelt off and laid it on the
credenza. “I was just asking him why
Cory Melton had been here, and Joe got all twisted out of shape and bit my head
off.”
“I
was wondering the same thing, about the Melton boy I mean. I didn’t know that he and your brother were
friends,” Ben said as he and Adam moved into the great room. Ben took a seat in his favorite chair and
started to light his pipe.
“Joe
said they weren’t, I asked him the same thing,” Adam informed his father.
“They
certainly acted like they were friends…at least Cory did.” Ben paused, seemingly to be thinking. “Now that I think about it, Adam, Joseph
really didn’t seem pleased that Cory stopped by. Wonder why?”
Adam
shook his head and gave his father a half grin.
“Who knows? With Joe, it’s a
guessing game,
Adam
stopped talking to stare at his father.
Ben was laughing softly.
“What?”
“Adam,
someday son, you will make a great father,” smiled Ben as he rose to his
feet. “I think I’ll go check on your
brother,” he laughed as he gently patted Adam’s shoulder in passing.
Ben
tapped on the door and gently eased it opened.
He could see Joe lying across the bed, obviously sleeping, so Ben
tiptoed over to the side of the bed and picked up the blanket at the foot. Carefully so as not to wake the boy, he
spread the cover over his son. As Ben
leaned down to smooth the blanket, he noted the shine of dampness on his son’s
face, and the moisture, a telltale sign that the boy had been crying, left a
dull ache in his father’s heart.
Quietly,
Ben slipped from the room and back down stairs.
Adam twisted in his chair to watch his father’s entrance and waited
until Ben had sat down.
“Well?”