FALSE WITNESS




 

By Julie Burns

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 


As the wagon bumped along the road back towards the Ponderosa, Ben Cartwright looked down at his sixteen-year-old son, who was laying down beside him in a deep sleep. The sleep was not a natural one, however. It came as the result of the drug combination that Doc Martin had administered only a few hours ago. It was supposed to help Joe not feel any physical pain from the injuries he had sustained.

But what about the emotional and mental scars that had been left behind? What about them, Ben asked himself.  How long would they take to heal? Would they ever heal? Would his young son ever recover from the torment that he had suffered at the hands of Butch Thomas over the last month?

If he could turn back the hands of time over the last few weeks and foresee what would befall his youngest son, Ben would have taken the boy out of harms way. He would have simply packed up Joseph and one of his other sons, Adam or Hoss, if necessary, and made sure that Joe was safe in another town away from the dangers that lurked.

Ben caressed the boy's soft curls, but his son didn't respond to his touch. It was like a brick wall had been built between them, and it was getting harder and harder to reach in and find the real Little Joe.

The boy had changed so much over the past few weeks. He had been a confident young man full of energy and laughter who filled the house with love and joy.  Now the boy was sullen and withdrawn and spoke rarely unless asked a question, and even then it was a battle to get some sort of answer.

Ben swore to himself that he didn't care how long it took, but he and his eldest two sons would be there every minute of the day and night, if necessary, to bring the boy back from the brink and back into the safe and loving arms of his family.

"He alright back there, Pa?" Hoss asked, as he guided the wagon team as slowly as he could over the rough dirt road back to the Ponderosa.

"As well as can be expected I guess, Hoss," Ben replied in a voice that held no emotion at all.  "We will just have to see how he goes over the next couple of days. It is going to be a difficult time for us all."

 

 

Hoss nodded and turned his attention back to the wagon team. As they pulled up outside the ranch house, Adam came outside, followed by Hop Sing. Adam had ridden on ahead of the rest of his family to make sure that everything would be ready in time when Hoss and his father arrived back with Little Joe.

Adam looked at his father before attempting to take his younger brother out of the wagon.   He hadn't heard the tone of Ben's voice just a few hundred metres back, but he saw the tiredness etched on his father's face and the worry embedded deep into his father's brown eyes.  His father looked almost a broken man. The thing that allowed the man to go on lay beside him wrapped up in the blankets. Adam didn't want to contemplate how his father would have gone on if Joe had not come back home. He couldn't put into words himself how he would have felt.

 

One sixteen-year-old boy held the magical golden key to all their hearts and kept them all united.  Now, when this same boy had fallen along the way and looked to be heading away from his family, it was up to that family to make sure that the boy knew they all loved and needed him endlessly.

The dark thunderclouds above once again threatened to bring down the heavens in torrential rain. They needed to get the boy inside and into his bed before the rain started. The last thing he needed with all his injuries at the moment was to get sick. Hoss thought back a moment and thought that it had been raining a few days before this all started to happen as well. ‘Funny how history had a way of playing on your memory, wasn't it,’ he thought to himself.

"Take it easy, Adam," Ben said, knowing that his eldest son was already aware of Joe's injuries.   "We have to check that those stitches in his side are still in place when we get him settled upstairs. Heaven knew what that rough road had done to exasperate the pain and agony his son felt.

Ben managed to move the still sleeping Joe into a half-sitting position so that Adam could wrap his strong arms around the fragile boy and lift him out of the wagon. Ben could feel a little warmth emanating through the cotton shirt that Joe wore over the top of the heavy padding and bandages around his chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few spits of rain began to fall just as Adam made it to the porch with Joe nestled in his strong arms. The boy had lost so much weight from injury and stress over the last few weeks that he barely weighed anything, his brother noted with dismay. Ben picked up the tails of the blankets from behind Adam and followed his eldest son, as he carried Joe into the homestead.

Adam had made sure that Joe's room was already warm enough before the wagon had pulled up outside. He walked into the house and climbed the staircase carrying his precious burden that failed to make a single sound.

Adam laid his unconscious brother on the clean sheets, and made sure that he was resting comfortably on the pillows while his father started to take off his shoes and socks.

Hoss had volunteered to put the horses and the wagon away, but both Adam and Ben knew that it was eating the middle Cartwright up inside to see his younger brother like this. It went against the very grain of things in Hoss's eyes that this had happened to his brother. He hated the men who had done this to Joe. He hated the Judge who had put the boy through so much humiliation in front of everyone. He hated the justice system that put it’s sole trust in the opinions of a few witnesses.  He hated himself for being so angry.

Inside, Joe had not awoken as such, but he seemed to be having a battle against unseen demons again. The demons had probably been created from the memories of the real monsters that had stalked him and then caused him so much hurt and pain. Suffering and fear that he had hidden from his family. A deep gnawing fear that bit into the boy’s very soul and stole his spirit with it.

Ben sat on the edge of the bed, forgetting all about undressing the boy. For now, the only real important thing was to let the boy know that his family was right here with him and that he was loved.

Ben spoke softly to the boy, reminding him of how much his family had missed him and how proud they had been of him over the last few days. While Ben talked, Adam went about finishing the task of undressing the boy from his good clothes that he had worn to court. The jacket had been left back at Doc Martin's due to the damage caused to it. Ben had declared the garment beyond repair or salvage and could no longer bear to look upon it and see it stained with his youngest son's blood.

 

 

Adam unbuttoned Joe's trousers once the boots were removed, and had to keep his own anger in check as he saw the bruises and scratches that marred the boy's pale flesh. The trousers had been a little stubborn at first due to the thick bandages still adorning the boy's left shin.  The bandages would remain on for at least another month or two, Doc Martin informed them, before it could be removed and Joe be allowed to put full weight back on that leg.

Hoss had returned to the house, and now came into the bedroom, carrying the other reminders of Joe's injuries. He propped the two wooden crutches up against the wall in the far corner of the room. It was doubtful that the boy would be leaving his bed anytime soon in the next few days.

The crutches told the story that Joe needed more than his family's love and caring at the moment just to stand. The boy had stumbled a number of times while trying to manoeuvre back and forth from the witness stand. To Hoss and the rest of the family they only seemed to confirm their fears about how badly Little Joe had been hurt.

Joe was sleeping soundly upstairs and was probably due to stay that way for several more hours to come. After Adam had managed to get one of Ben's shirts over the boy's head and bandages, they tucked the blankets in around the boy. Adam and Hoss had bid their younger brother good-night and left their father to a more private time alone with his son.

Ben had continued to talk soothing words to his son as he slept. He caressed his face, then bent down and gently kissed the boy on his bruised cheek before leaving the room.

About an hour after the Cartwright’s had returned home the three eldest of them now sat downstairs in the living room. All three were lost in their own thoughts about the events that had taken place over the last month.

Ben's mind started to take him back to a time about a month ago when everything seemed to be going fine. If only he could go back there now.

About a month earlier:

”Come on, Hoss!” an excited Little Joe shouted as he descended the wooden staircase  two steps at a time. 


 

 

 

 

”Joseph, do you need to shout so loud this early in the morning?” Ben Cartwright said in mock annoyance as he watched the eagerness of his  youngest son.   He smiled to himself and hoped that the excitement inside Little Joe remained until the boy himself was an old grey man.  It was this excitement that kept rejuvenating the youth in all of them.  Even Hop Sing seemed to have an extra hop in his step these days just to keep up with the youngest member of the family.


”I wish you were this eager to get out of bed on the mornings I try and wake you up for school, short shanks,” Hoss said, as he calmly walked down the stairs whilst putting on his vest.

 

“School ain’t as exciting as this, Hoss,” Joe explained as he sat down at the table to join the rest of the family for breakfast.

”Are you sure that you have packed all you will need, Joseph?” Ben now asked, wanting to make sure that the two brothers had all the essentials needed with them for their expedition.   This was the first hunting trip that Joe was going on without his father, and therefore Ben was just that little bit more nervous.  He knew he could trust Hoss better than most people, but that security didn’t stop him worrying.

 

“Yeah, Pa,” Joe answered in an exasperated tone.  He knew that his father was worried about him and Hoss going off hunting on their own without their father or Adam to supervise.  He rolled his eyes a little at the over-caring he was getting.   “I’ve got three changes of clothes.  Hoss has already loaded all of the supplies including my rifle and the fishing poles,” he replied.

 

“And that’s another thing, young man,” Ben said, as he caught the tone in his son’s voice.  “You are only to use that rifle when Hoss is watching you and instructing you, is that understood?” he asked sternly.   Although Ben had bought the rifle himself about a year ago now, he didn’t like the idea of a young inexperienced person having full use of a deadly weapon.   Joe was sensible to a fault, but it was that impulsive nature and the frequent mistake to act first and ask questions later that made Ben more afraid than most father’s with their young sons and guns.

 

Over the past twelve months, under Ben’s and Adam’s careful guidance, the boy had shown a genuine aptitude at handling a rifle.  Ben had watched the boy shoot at targets more than 50 metres away and get a result that would make any adult proud.  

 

 

 

 

Ben had wondered whether Joe’s left-handedness would prove an obstacle at first but after only a few brief practice sessions, it had become obvious that the fact that Joe used his left hand was more of an advantage than a disadvantage. 

 

”Come here, Joseph, please?” Ben asked, as he sat down on the settee and indicated to his youngest son to join him.  “There are just a few things that I want you remember before you leave.”

Little Joe made a face as he knew what was about to come.  “Aw Pa, I already know what your going to say before you say it,” he said in an over exaggerated voice.  “Joseph, don’t ride too fast.  Joseph, listen to what your brother tells you.  Joseph, don’t wander off alone.  Joseph,……….”

 

“Joseph, don’t take that attitude with me,” Ben said in the same type of voice that his son had used. “Or you won’t be going anywhere at all, young man,” Ben said sternly without injecting too much anger into the words and put a dampener on the morning before it even began.

 

“I want you to have a good time and enjoy yourself, Little Joe, but I also want you to do as your brother Hoss asks and keep safe during your trip,” Ben said in a gentler voice.  “Don’t be in a rush to do anything. You have plenty of time.  Make sure you both come back in one piece and safe and sound.”

”I promise I will behave myself, Pa,” Joe replied.  “and have a good time with Hoss as well.”   Joe then raced off the settee and rechecked that he had everything that he wanted to take with him.  
Whilst he was out with Cochise and made sure everything was tied on properly, Ben had a little heart to heart chat with Hoss as well as to what he expected of him and Little Joe this weekend.

 

“Everything should be fine, Pa,” Hoss said, trying to reassure his father that he would bring his youngest son back to him safe and sound.   “Its only two days out and only one night at that,  we should be back by about mid-afternoon on Sunday if everything goes smoothly enough.”

 

“Where are you planning to take your younger brother on this hunting expedition, Hoss?” Adam now asked.   He asked the question for two reasons.  One, for curiosity sake and the regret that he wasn’t joining his brother’s in a nice couple of days off from work on the ranch. 

 

 

 

 

Two, whilst he had no qualms about Hoss’s ability to handle most situations that might arise whilst they were out there alone, Adam was also only too well accustomed to his youngest brother’s whimsical nature and his often bad misjudgement about things. 

 

 Joe was a good kid most of the time, but he had the quirky ability to wrap almost anybody to his advantage and this was even more so for his brother Hoss.  Adam just secretly hoped that his larger brother would be able to see past the large emerald green puppy dog eyes and the irresistible smile that the kid flashed when he wanted to get his own way.  Only time would tell if he will see past that, Adam told himself.

 

“Probably as far as ‘Pine Valley’, Adam,” Hoss answered.   “Its not totally off the Ponderosa, but far enough away for the kid to enjoy the scenery and camp underneath the tall trees up there.  We can camp near one of the small streams up there and catch some small fish for supper if no other game is seen beforehand.”

 

Ben and Adam were both secretly pleased with Hoss’s choice of venue and knew that Hoss was right.  Although “Pine Valley” was in one of the far corners of the Ponderosa lands, it was more than half a day’s ride away and definitely far enough away to make a camping trip out of the expedition.   

 

”Come on, Hoss, or it will be dark before we even get there,” Joe shouted from the front porch as he tried to hurry his brother along.   Joe then mounted Cochise and held out the reins to Chubb for Hoss.   He grinned back at his father and other brother as they watched from the front doorway and then gave them a quick enthusiastic wave

before nudging Cochise forward.

 

Ben watched the two riders until he could no longer see them.  Many thoughts raced through his mind as he was reminded that this was Joe’s first hunting trip without him alongside.    He kept telling himself that everything would be fine, but deep down inside he couldn’t wait until Sunday afternoon again when he saw them arrive safely back in the yard at the house.

***********************************************************


 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

”What are we gonna do first, Hoss?” Joe asked, as he rode alongside his brother with a million different thoughts going through his mind.

”Whoa, wait until we at least get there, short shanks,” Hoss said, as he chuckled at his brother’s impetuous nature.   Joe was already to set off at the drop of a hat.  It was often up to his family to see that he didn’t stray from the straight and narrow whilst failing to see what was up ahead of him.

”When we get to ‘Pine Valley’, the first thing we will do is choose a camping spot near the stream for tonight.  Once we have unpacked everything and secured the supplies from the native wildlife, we can go out and have a look for what might be around.     Later towards the afternoon we can do a spot of fishing in the stream to catch us some supper,” Hoss explained what he had mapped out in his head for the remainder of the day.

 

Once they had reached the area where Hoss intended to make camp, Little Joe seemed to want to do everything in a hurry.   He started off at first by trying to set up the tent at first.  Unfortunately, he tried to set the tent up too close to the stream that bubbled along beside them.  It took a lot of persuasion from his big brother for Little Joe to believe that camping that close to the water was dangerous.  

 

Little Joe couldn’t see how such a little stream could possibly swell overnight and threaten to flood their camp area, but Hoss knew from experience and teachings that Pa and Adam had given him long ago that due to the rainfall they had had over the last couple of weeks, the risk was too great to take.

 

Little Joe settled to setting up the tent in an open spot just the other side of a large tree.  He had trouble trying to get the main pole to stand up straight.  On a couple of occasions, Hoss had watched the youngster struggle with the tent until there would be a slight cry for assistance underneath the massive folds of the tent fabric that engulfed

Joe once the pole started to bend and fall down inside.  

 

After about an hour of struggling between themselves the tent was finally declared fit for living in for the night.   Hoss hadn’t thought far enough ahead to see his brother’s small size being more of a disadvantage than he would have thought.

 

Joe had always been smaller than his brothers.  Hoss had always been there to help him along and would continue to do so.  But it was at times such as this, when two sets of hands were better than one, that Hoss realised he would have to take on most of the physical work himself.

 

The next step in the construction of their campsite was the fireplace in the middle.   Hoss explained to a curious Joe that they needed to keep the fire going not only for cooking and warmth during the night.  But the heat of the fire and the red flames would also act as a deterrent to any wild animals that might walk into their campsite by accident.    

 

The mention of wild animals seemed to enthral and scare Joe all at the same time.  He seemed anxious to see something as spectacular as a grizzly bear or a large moose, but the thought of running into such a dangerous animal out here all alone in the woods also made him a bit afraid.  He was really glad his big brother Hoss was with him to protect him against such things.

 

With the campsite completed as much as possible, Hoss decided that it was time to stop working and have some of that fun that he had been promising his brother all day.  He told Joe to get his rifle and that they would take a walk through the forest and see what they could find.   He looked up above and was mindful to keep an eye on

the sun and take stock of the time.  

 

Hoss knew that they would only be able to be out for just over an hour before they would need to start getting supper started.   Hopefully, an hour would be long enough to wear his Little brother out enough for the time being.  With the walk and the long ride from home this morning, both of them should enjoy a peaceful night’s sleep.

 

Joe kept his gaze skywards for the majority of the walk.   He was awed by the large trees and their canopy that darkened the forest floor.  It was hard to see where you were going sometimes and on two occasions, Joe had absentmindedly tripped over a protruding root that was unseen.  Both times he had just looked embarrassed rather than hurt and Hoss had ribbed him about watching where he was going.

 

After another five minutes through the tree line, Joe had almost tripped over something else hidden in the dirt.  He managed to side step this obstacle and was about to look at his brother for the returned snide remark.  Hoss however had a different look on his face this time.

 

 

 

Hoss wasn’t even laughing the slightest bit at what he saw his brother step over.  It wasn’t a tree root this time or a piece of fallen branch from higher in the tree.   This time the very sight of this metal object made Hoss’s temper flare and his inner calm to boil over.    He was looking at a rusty old steel trap that some tracker had carelessly left behind.  

 

“Step away from that thing, Little Joe,” Hoss asked in a calm but serious voice.  He picked up a large stick from the forest floor in an attempt to stop the potential injury to anybody else or any other living thing.  The fact that these things even existed went against everything that Hoss saw as good and right. 

 

 Hoss couldn’t bear the thought of any animal lying hurt or injured at anytime,  not even the ones that people often despised like wolves and foxes.  The fact that men laid these vicious things around so that some animal could be trapped in one and live out its last few minutes or hours of life in absolute agony didn’t sit very well with the big man at all.   

 

“What are you going to do, Hoss?” Joe asked in a quiet voice.  He knew his brother’s feelings when it came to injured animals.   

 

“It might look old and rusted, Little Joe, but I’m gonna make sure that this evil thing can’t hurt anything else ever again,” Hoss answered. “I’m gonna set the trap off so that no animal can get it’s leg caught in it and bleed to death or scream in agony as it bites off it’s own leg from the pain.”  At least when we go hunting, animals are killed properly and humanely.  There ain’t nothing worse or more dangerous than an injured animal.”

 

“Be careful, Hoss,” Joe said, as his brother moved closer to the trap with the stick held high in the air.

 

“Its alright Joe, I know what I’m doing.  I’m just going to release the jaws by sticking this big stick on the plate,” he explained.  The edge of the stick pushed the metal plate in the centre and the jaws snapped shut with a rusty sounding jerk.  “If an animal did get it’s leg caught in something as rusty as that, then the animal would probably die more from infection to the wound than from getting caught in it at all.”    

 

Hoss then walked over to the trap and lifted it from it’s position buried in the leaves and the dirt on the ground.  He swung the trap around as hard as he could and then released it, allowing it to sail through the air and then break into a few big rusty pieces as it landed hard in the dirt over 30 metres away.   Hoss was at least a little relieved that the trap wouldn’t be able to inflict any more pain.

 

“Come on, Joe, let’s go back to camp and get supper started,” Hoss said in a glum voice.  Having to deal with something like that had taken the spring out of his step suddenly, and he didn’t feel much like going for a walk any further now.

 

 Joe was a bit on edge when they returned to their camp site.   Joe had rarely seen his brother so mad about anything.  Hoss was always the calm and rational one.  He  was the one ready to hear the other side of the story before judging a man.  This was the brother who forgave others’ mistakes more easily.  

 

Although his brother had appeared deadly calm this afternoon when talking about the metal trap they had seen.  Deep down, Joe knew that his brother was like a smoking volcano ready to explode when he knew there was an animal that had deliberately been injured or left to suffer.

 

Although Joe knew that Hoss would never show that kind of anger towards him or any other human being, the whole episode still made Joe uneasy, and he made a point of it to tiptoe around his brother for the rest of the afternoon until his brother’s mood had improved.

 

It didn’t appear that Joe would have to wait too long for this to happen, though.  By supper time, Hoss’s mood seemed to be much improved as they both talked idly about everything whilst Hoss prepared their evening meal of beans and bacon and coffee.   

 

The sun was beginning to melt into the horizon, but the temperature remained warm due to the humidity.   There was still the potential for a storm and rain later on in the night so they would have to be vigilant in case they had to shift camp during the night.

 

“What do you think about me dropping out of school, Hoss?” Joe asked.  The question seemed to come out of the middle of nowhere.  It had been a subject that had been on Little Joe’s mind for the last couple of months.  Every time Joe brought the subject up around the dinner table, it only ended in an argument between Ben and his youngest son.  

 

The tension between them over the subject  was so thick at times that you could cut it with a knife.   Joe made it more than obvious that he didn’t see any point to continuing his education.   He had told his father that he wanted  to work with the rest of the ranch hands.   He had proved over the last twelve months that he was more than capable of carrying out any of the work that was expected of his older brothers.

 

 

 

Ben, on the other hand, was just as adamant that Joe would not be dropping out of school until he was finished with his education.    Ben expected Joe to learn as much as possible during his school years, no matter how physically capable his youngest son thought he was. 

 

Hoss and Adam felt that they were in the middle of this continuous argument.  Neither of them wanted to take sides, and that was again how the subject remained tonight as Joe asked his brother the question.

 

“Well, Joe,” Hoss began uneasily, trying to pick his words carefully so as to explain what he thought his brother should do without setting of that infamous Joe Cartwright temper, “I think you should try and learn as much as possible from school.”

 

“Your just like Pa,” Joe retorted back as he had expected Hoss would be his one true ally.  “After all, it was you that dropped out when you were my age,” Joe accused his brother. 

 

“Yes, that’s true, Little Joe, but it was different in my case,” Hoss said, trying to explain why he had been allowed to finish school early. “In my case school work wasn’t meant for me.  No matter how hard I tried, I just never seemed to fit in.  The kids were all much younger and much smaller than me.  I seemed out of place.

 

Some of the ranch hands talked to Pa and told him how much they needed my help with the stock and after a time my work around the yard just outweighed the time I spent at school.  But its different with you, Little Joe”

 

“How’s it different?” Joe asked his brother with a touch of jealousy in his voice “School work doesn’t exactly suit me either, but every time I try and talk to Pa about leaving to help out at the ranch, he just yells until we both get angry and stop talking to each other.  I don’t want it to be that way, Hoss.  I just want him to understand my point of view and listen to what I want for a change.”  The anger had now been replaced by tears, and Joe turned his face away in embarrassment at having revealed too many of his feelings out loud.

 

Hoss moved closer to his little brother and put a comforting arm around him.   “I’m sure if you just wait your time, Joe, Pa will listen and understand.  You gotta understand, though, that schooling is real important.   Let’s talk about something else tonight, huh?”   

 

 

 

 

Joe tried to get himself under control and cursed himself inwardly for having revealed more than he had wanted to tonight.   “Sorry, Hoss,” he said through the sniffles.  “Didn’t meant to sound like such a spoiled brat,” he added.

 

“We are used to it, Little Joe,” Hoss said with a laugh and quickly dived back to the fire and dinner before the playful punch that Joe had released could find it’s mark.  

 

For the rest of the night, whilst eating their meagre meal, Hoss and Joe talked about many different things.  It was at times like these that Joe felt most at ease.  Maybe that was why he had decided to talk to Hoss about his schooling. 

 

When he was with Hoss, he felt like he could talk about anything and his brother would listen without jumping in at the wrong moment like Pa and Adam often did.  

 

About half an hour after the meal, Hoss had been talking idly when he looked down and wondered why his audience had been so quiet.  He soon saw the reason and chuckled to himself.  The boy had fallen asleep with his empty plate in hand.

 

Hoss moved silently and quickly, just in time to catch the tin plate as it dropped out of Joe’s sleep-limp hand and threatened to wake the slumbering boy with a clatter as it hit the dirt ground.  Joe had fallen asleep sitting against one of the supports for the tent.  

 

 Hoss put a large hand on Joe’s back and eased the sleeping boy to a laying down position underneath the primitive looking shelter.  He was fairly certain that Joe wouldn’t wake again before morning.  The ride, although not exceedingly long, had been long enough, and that encompassed with the walk earlier in the day, the boy was just plumb worn out.

 

Hoss went about cleaning up the dinner dishes and securing their supplies for the night and then settled himself down on the crude bed beside his brother.   Joe must have been tired, he told himself, because when he laid down, he saw that the boy had barely moved.  

 

Even the blankets that Hoss had secured around the sleeping figure were

more or less still in the same position.  His brother must have really been worn out.   “Night, little brother,” he whispered and closed his own eyes in sleep.

 

It was just before dawn the next morning when a strange noise awoke Joe from his deep sleep.   Hoss had been right about the boy’s tiredness.   He yawned widely as he sat up under their make shift tent and tried to figure out what had woken him up.  He looked over at his brother Hoss and groaned loudly when another large snoring sound escaped Hoss’s lips. 

 

At first he thought it must have been this sound that woke him up, but just as he was about to lay back down again and close his eyes, the noise he had heard earlier came again.  It was a low moaning sound.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t coming from Hoss this time. 

 

Joe thought it best that he get up and investigate.  Hoss was still asleep and he felt silly waking his brother up from a perfect sleep over hearing a strange noise in the dark.  Hoss would probably call him silly as well and tell him to go back to sleep anyway.

 

Joe got up silently and crept out of the tent.  He walked over and started to stoke the dying embers of the fire while he waited to hear the sound again.  He didn’t have to wait long.

 

The sound came again, and Joe tried to work out in which direction it was coming from.  After another low moan, Joe started heading down towards the stream.  He was certain that this was where the noise was coming from.

 

Joe neared the stream, but at first he couldn’t see anything that would have made such a low moaning sound.  Just as he was about to head back towards the camp site, he heard the noise again.  This time it was coming from his right.  He looked over and could see a dark shadow about 50 metres away near the water’s edge.

 

He was a bit apprehensive to approach the shadow until he could see clearly what it was, but finally he found his gut instinct telling himself that it might be somebody in trouble that needed his help.   He built up as much courage as possible and started to walk towards the large bulky shadow.

 

As he got closer, the moaning started getting more frequent.  He was about 10 metres away when suddenly he could see two beady eyes looking back at him through the half-lit sky.  He wasn’t sure what it was at first.  The sun wasn’t fully up yet, and there was only a dull hue over the mountains giving him any sort of view of the area.

 

 

 

He stopped where he was and waited until he could see more of the shape before approaching any closer.  Gradually his vision improved and he finally was able to see what it was.   He blinked twice to be sure that what he saw was real.   

 

When he looked again he could see the same thing again, and he started to smile as he looked back at a cute cuddly bear cub.   Joe guessed that the cub couldn’t be more than six months of age. Its fur was still very fluffy in places and long from his winter hibernation.  

 

The cub gave another low moan and Joe realised that it had been the bear cub making the noise the whole time.   The animal sounded as if it was in pain.  From where he was, Joe couldn’t see why the bear would be in pain.  He started to walk closer.  He had failed to note the possible danger that lurked out there.  If the bear was so young, where was it’s mother?  This question had yet to cross Joe’s curious mind.

 

As Joe reached  the bear cub, he could now see the reason why the animal was in pain.   The cub must have wandered away from it’s mother.  One of it’s rear paws was now snared in a similar trap partially submerged in the mud of the stream bank.   Joe could see the rusty jaws biting into the soft furred paw of the cub.   He quickly looked around for something nearby to help release the trap and the bear’s paw.  

 

Joe found a thick stick about a meter long.  He neared the cub and softly spoke to let the bear know that he didn’t mean it any harm.  He gingerly placed his hand on the bear’s soft fur coat in order to gain it’s confidence.   The bear seemed calm enough at the moment although in pain as it again moaned at the trap’s torment. 

 

Joe’s face was now a mask of concentration as he tried to remember what he had seen his brother do the afternoon before setting off that other rusty trap.  The problem was that the trap Hoss set off had been empty while this one still had an animal trapped in it’s jaws.

 

 Joe carefully placed the stick in the small gap that existed in the jaws and used all his might to try and pry the metal teeth apart.  Joe had been concentrating on the trap too much and failed to realise that once the jaws loosened their grip, they would cause more pain to the bear cub.  Although the cub was only half grown,  the claws on the end of it’s front and back paws were sharp enough to cut into the soft flesh of a human arm.

 

 

 

 

Joe let out a scream of pain of his own when he felt the bear cub’s paw scrape down the top of his right arm.   Even though Joe had a thick coat on, the claw easily cut into the thick material and then into the white skin of Joe’s arm.   The wound began to sting as it started to bleed through the overcoat.   Joe still remembered the bear, though, and saw that his efforts had worked enough to free the bear’s paw from the trap.

 

The bear was now sitting partly in the water while nursing the wound on his rear paw.   Joe was sitting on the grassy bank only a few metres from the trap nursing his own wound.   He tried to hold back the tears of pain as he touched the jagged cut and blood started to stain his fingers red.

 

Hoss, who had been asleep as his brother had left him, instantly awoke when he heard his little brother’s scream.   He sat up in a hurry and briefly looked over to see the bed beside him empty.  He dashed out of his tent to find his brother.   He heard the boy’s cries again and headed towards the stream a few metres away.

 

He could see his brother sitting on the grassy bank, holding onto his right arm and grimacing in pain.   He could also see the bear cub sitting in the water with the paw in his mouth.   

 

“Are you alright, punkin?” Hoss said with worry as he knelt down beside his brother and take a look at his injured arm.

 

“I was just trying to help him out, Hoss,” Joe said, as he bit on his lip to stop the tears.  He then proceeded to tell Hoss about what he had tried to do.  He pointed to the partly submerged trap and then to the bear cub that still nursed it’s injured paw in the water.  

 

Hoss soon realised about the cub’s mother, knowing that a cub that young wouldn’t be far from its mother.   This alerted Hoss even more to the danger that Joe could have been in.  Hoss hated to even contemplate what sort of danger Joe might have put himself in if the cub’s mother had come across his innocent attempts to free her baby.  Even the baby’s claws could have made a deeper wound than they had.  

 

Hoss took out his handkerchief and asked Joe to take off his overcoat so that he could look at the gash.  Joe obeyed but winced as he tried to remove the overcoat.  Some of the material had become stuck to the wound due to the bleed and stung a bit as it was pulled off the skin.

 

 

 

Hoss tried not to look worried for Joe’s sake as he glanced at the wound.  The bleeding had slowed down somewhat, but Hoss could see that the injury could use some medical attention. 

 

Hoss wrapped the material around the wound and told Joe to put his over coat back over the  top.  It would be a good six hours’ ride before they would be safely back at the ranch.   Being a wound from an animal, Hoss wanted to make sure it was clean and free from infection. 

 

Hoss helped Joe to stand up and they both headed back to the camp site.  Hoss hurried in heating some coffee and a few beans for breakfast, but neither he or Joe felt much like eating.  While Joe’s reason was more because of  the physical pain he felt, Hoss’s was more due to the worry about what he was going to tell his father when they got home.  

 

Hopefully Joe would let Hoss just tell Pa nice and quietly what had happened before Pa had a chance to get mad at him.  Hoss felt as though he had let both Joe and his father down.  He had promised to take care of Joe and now Joe was injured, although it hadn’t been entirely anybody’s fault.   He doubted Pa would see it that way.

 

Joe sipped at a cup of coffee, but the incident by the stream had shaken him a little.   He sat sullen and subdued until Hoss had gathered all of their belongings and supplies and told Joe that they were ready to start the journey home.  Joe didn’t want to start for home so early, but he knew that Hoss was worried and knew that he would have to help his brother explain what had happened to his father.

 

Half-way through the journey home, Joe dozed off in his saddle and Hoss was concerned about the boy falling out of the saddle in his sleep and injuring himself further.   He brought both mounts to a stop and very carefully transferred the sleeping Little Joe in front of him on his own horse.  Then he started Chubb on a slow walk again, leading Cochise behind him.

 

As Hoss neared the Ponderosa homestead, he felt the worry about his brother begin to lift from his shoulders.    He knew that Joe’s injury wasn’t life threatening, but he felt responsible, nonetheless.

 

Due to the slower ride home, the sun had begun to set a few hours ago leaving only a soft hue in the sky as Hoss rode his big horse Chubb into the yard, leading Cochise behind him.

 

Hoss looked down at his young brother who was snuggled up close to his large chest.  He hated to wake up the boy, but he needed to get down and stretch his weary body from the long ride in the saddle.

 

Over the last mile or two he had been rehearsing the lines in his head that he would say to his father to explain the little mishap that Joe had fallen prone to.

 

The bandage had managed to stay in place for most of the trip and was hidden from view at the moment under Joe's warm coat.

 

"Little Joe," Hoss said in a gentle voice as he nudged the boy awake enough to get off the horse. 

 

Hoss looked up to see his father and big brother Adam walking towards the pair of them.    Joe had seen the two of them as well and this put a spring into his step.

 

Little Joe ran and launched himself into his father's waiting arms and relished the warmth and security that only that embrace could offer.    

 

Almost immediately Joe was off into a tirade of words at an impossible speed.  He barely took a breath as he tried to fit the entire trip into one long unbroken sentence for his father and brother Adam.

 

"Slow down, Little Joe," Ben said gently as he put his hand on Joe's upper arms to try and get the boy to calm down some.

 

"OUCH!" Joe cried out as Ben's hand encircled the bandaged cut on his arm.  The wound had stopped bleeding, but it was still rather tender to the touch.  "That hurts, Pa," he admitted and pulled himself away from his father to rub at his arm.

 

Ben now frowned, firstly upon his youngest son as he heard the cry of pain escape his son's mouth,  secondly, at Hoss who suddenly found the ground at his feet very interesting.

 

It wasn't that he hadn't intended on telling his father about Joe's little encounter with the bear cub.  He was just hoping for a more opportune moment.

 

That chance had been just blown to pieces by Joe's sudden exclamation as Ben touched the sore arm.    Adam's expression changed as he leaned back with his arms folded in front of him waiting for his younger brother's explanation to their father.

 

 

 

“What happened to your arm, Joseph?” Ben asked, as he tried to grab a hold of his son gently so as not to hurt him.   Joe gulped a little as he looked back at Hoss and realised that he had blurted everything out before Hoss had a chance to smooth things over.

 

“Let’s go inside first, Pa,” Hoss said in a nervous voice as he gave a quick smile back to Joe to say that he understood.  “Joe’s real tired after our trip, Pa, he went to sleep in the saddle.  If we go inside, I’ll explain what happened and you can tend to Joe’s arm.”

 

“And just what happened out there for me to need to attend to Joe’s arm, Hoss?” Ben asked again, trying to get the answer he desired before they went inside.

 

Hoss took Joe by the arm and started to lead him into the house.  Ben and Adam were left to follow with a million questions on their minds.

 

Outside, the sky threatened with a storm as a result of the hot conditions throughout the day.  That, combined with the humidity and the cool breeze that now blew, would result in thunder and lightening before dawn.

 

Joe now sat on the settee and started to remove his overcoat.   It was only now under the lights of the house, that Ben and Adam noticed the torn fabric on the sleeve of the coat.   They could also see some blood stains on the coat as well.

 

“Oh, Joe,” Ben said, as he spotted the handkerchief wrapped around the wound.  “What happened, son?” he asked in gentler tones.   Adam had gone to get a basin, some water and a cloth to clean the wound.    Ben tried not to look worried as he finally got to see the cause of his youngest son’s discomfort.

 

“How does it look, Pa?” Hoss asked anxiously.   He wanted to know that his little brother was going to be alright.   Ben looked up and saw the concern on his middle son’s face, but he forced him to wait until Joe was settled before finding out exactly what happened. 

 

Although he knew Joseph was quite capable of telling him, Hoss would be less dramatic and wouldn’t leave out any vital bits of information during his explanation.   By the look of Joe’s tired eyes, it looked as though the boy was ready for bed anyway.

 

 

 

 

Ben moistened the corner of the cloth in the warm water from the basin and gently dabbed at the wounded area.  Joe turned his head away, biting his lip and trying not to let his tears fall as a result of the stinging sensation.   Ben tried to be as gentle as he could, but he also needed to check that the gash had no signs of infection.  He needed to make sure that all the dirt and cloth had been removed from the wound.

 

Ben would have liked Paul Martin to have a look at the wound as well, but he had seen the sky himself earlier and knew that there would be quite a downpour before dawn. The wound looked clean enough.   He would get Adam to see Paul in the morning when Adam went into Virginia City to place the bid on the new lumber

contract.

 

Ben dried the wound, and when he was satisfied that everything was in order, he wrapped a clean white bandage around the gash.   He looked down at his son and noted that the boy could barely keep his eyes open.  He was quite certain that the boy wasn’t suffering from any ill effects of shock or loss of blood or any other more serious ailment.  The long ride home had simply worn him out.  Completing the same distance in under two days also made for a long arduous journey for any rider.  

 

“Alright, young man, let’s get you settled in your own bed,” Ben said.   Joe barely opened his eyes to his father’s request and obeyed completely as he found himself being lifted off the couch by his father and carried up the stairs to his bed. 

 

Adam and Hoss followed, just to make sure that Joe was alright.   Ben laid the already sleeping boy on the bed, and then covered him with a light quilt.     He brushed the stray hair out of the boy’s eyes and gently kissed him on the temple before bidding him goodnight.

 

Ben gestured Adam and Hoss out of the room, and the three of them went downstairs, ready for Hoss to relay what had happened.

 

Hoss poured himself a cup of coffee from the kitchen, and then proceeded to tell Ben and Adam about finding the rusty old trap the day before.   Ben and Adam could both sense the hidden anger slowly starting to bubble to the surface as Hoss spoke in low tones about his dislike of such tools.    Hoss didn’t think it was the time or place to discuss what Joe had said about dropping out of school.   He would leave that for another day.  

 

 

 

 

Hoss told them about hearing Joe scream early this morning and then coming down to the stream to see him rescuing a bear cub from another trap in the mud.    Ben paled as Hoss told him about the threat the mother bear might have posed to his youngest son and was grateful that Joe was now safe and sound in his own bed.

 

Hoss retired soon after finishing his cup of coffee, leaving Ben and Adam to talk further about the lumber contract they needed to worry about tomorrow.

 

Outside, the gentle spots of rain started to fall and within a few minutes became heavy soaking rain with flashes of lightening that danced across the sky and rumbles of thunder as the clouds came together.

 

Adam was due to put in the bid for the lumber contract the next morning.  He had spent most of the day before Hoss and Joe returned pouring over the figures, adjusting them here and recalculating them here until he was utterly sick of looking at numbers.

 

There was a new mine opening up on the Comstock.   The owner was a very wealthy man by the name of Rowland Collins.  At the discussion meetings earlier in the week Collins made it abundantly cleared to all interested parties that whoever took on his lumber contract could expect a lot of work to deliver the large amounts of timber required for the mine.  On the other hand, the right bidder could also expect to

make a handsome profit at the end of the day.

 

It was just the sort of opportunity Adam saw as a great investment not only to the Ponderosa but also to extend the lumber mill they had running and to employ some more local men.    However, the Cartwrights knew that there was at least half a dozen other people interested in bidding and winning the contract.  They were unaware of the methods that some of them would implore to get their own way.

 

Adam was part the way through telling Ben about his bid, and the figures he had carefully worked out for the contract, when there was a huge flash of lightening outside followed by a very loud clap of thunder.

 

The thunder had been loud enough to wake Joe from his sleep, and Ben immediately got up from the table and ascended the stairs as he heard his son’s whimpers of fright.   It was no secret that Little Joe was afraid of storms.   It had been something that started when he was very young, even when Marie was still alive.

 

 

 

The Cartwright’s had assumed that given time the fear would gradually subside as the boy grew older and more accustomed to the noise.  This was not to be, though, and to this day, on stormy nights, Ben and Adam could be assured of spending at least some time during the night consoling the frightened lad until he finally went back to sleep.

 

 

***********************************************************

 

The next morning Hoss and Adam were seated at the breakfast table with their father as usual.  Hoss was just about to complete his morning ritual of waking his younger brother for school when Ben put a gentle restraining arm on his forearm, as Hoss got up from the table.

 

“I thought I’d let him stay home today, Hoss,” Ben said, as he lifted his coffee cup to his lips.  He could see the questioning glances from both sons over the rim of the cup, and knew that he would have to explain his reasons to them both.

 

“I want Paul to take a look at that wound, just to be on the safe side,” Ben said  “And besides, after such a long trip I figured your younger brother could use the extra sleep.   Those roads leading into the city are going to be very boggy today, and I don’t want him riding to school on his own in conditions such as that.   He might come off Cochise on the way to school and cause himself a more serious injury”.

 

Hoss and Adam gave each other looks that said everything.  Ben could try and explain his actions as much as he liked, but both of his older boys knew that keeping Little Joe home today from school today was just him showing his concern for the boy and basically being an old mother hen.

 

Hoss had to laugh to himself about the conversation he and Joe had had about him dropping out of school.   Apparently, all Joe needed to do was show a little blood and give his father that sad puppy dog look to win him over, and he would be allowed to stay home from school.    Hoss was fairly certain that if Joe acted the part well enough he would be able to have his way almost as often as he liked. 

 

There was just something Joe possessed that enabled him to wrap his father around his little finger any time he wanted to.   Unfortunately, Hoss knew all too well that there were other family members who often found themselves being persuaded by those same big green puppy dog eyes when it suited Joe.

 

 

 

“I’d better make a start, Pa,” Adam announced as he got up from the table.   “As you say, those roads into Virginia City could be pretty boggy today, and I only have an hour before the tender closes on that lumber contract.”

 

“Be sure that you see Paul Martin before you make your way home and tell him that I would like him to stop by when he can and take a look at your brother,” Ben reminded him.    “And you might drop by and give Joe’s apologies to Miss Jones this morning as well.   Tell her that Joe can collect whatever extra work he missed out on tomorrow.”

 

“I’ll be sure to tell her, Pa,” Adam said  “And I promise that I won’t leave before seeing Paul.”

 

Adam bid his good mornings to his family and made his way out to the barn and his mount, Sport.  He had carefully folded the bid documents and tucked them into his jacket pocket.    He was cutting it a bit fine by leaving the bid until the last minute, but he was confident enough that the Cartwright tender would win the valuable contract when all the bids were compared with each other.   The profit they could make would set the Ponderosa up nicely for the next few months and hopefully see them successfully through the difficult winter ahead.

 

While Adam was riding along the road to Virginia City, the other bidders for the lumber contract had started to gather outside the general store for the closing time.    Due to the size of the contract, there were only a few serious contenders able to supply the large amount of timber sought.    There was Mr Bill Scruggs, who had a forest of logging timber over forty miles away from the Ponderosa.    A second bid had been placed by Mr Abner Taylor.

 

The third bidder had sent a proxy to do his bidding for him.   The man himself wanted to remain out of the public eye as much as possible.   Butch Thomas was the man hired to be his right hand man.   Being that right hand man meant doing everything that his boss normally would have done.   Butch Thomas didn’t care who he worked for or what the work entailed.   So long as there was a healthy pay packet at the end of every month he would do as he was asked. 

 

In a few of the towns just outside of Virginia city the man had quickly gained a reputation as being a harsh man with a mean fist and a quick draw.  He had rarely been seen in Virginia City and that suited him just fine.  If he was unknown, he could blend into the crowd easier and hide his true dealings. 

 

Thomas knew that his boss Henry Williams wanted this lumber contract.  It was the only thing that Thomas had heard the man talk about over the last month.    Williams had made it clear that he wanted the contract no matter what.   He had warned Thomas about the Cartwright family and their influence over much of the Virginia City population.  

 

Thomas had yet to meet any of the so-called Cartwright’s, but from what he had been told, they were the only ones that posed a real threat to Williams winning the contract outright.   

 

When Collins had first demonstrated his interest in obtaining timber in the area, Williams had been quick to take the new mining entrepreneur aside and forcibly impress his offers to fulfil the mine’s needs.   Collins, however, had backed away from the bullish tactics of Williams and openly invited tenders from all over the area before making a final decision.

 

Thomas looked at his watch and noted that perhaps his boss had been wrong about the Cartwright’s being a threat to his contract.   There was but five minutes to go before the tender closed, and he hadn’t heard any mention of the Cartwright name this morning.   

 

Collin’s secretary, Mr Eugene Nelson, now stepped out onto the veranda and looked at his watch also.  “Well, gentlemen, it looks as though it is almost time to close the tender and start examining the bids,” Nelson said over the bridge of his spectacles.    “Before I say ‘tender closed’, is there any last minute bidders yet to place their documentation before me for determination?”

 

The sound of a galloping horse could be heard coming down the street  now at a great pace.   Adam Cartwright bolted off his roan mount Sport and dashed towards Mr Nelson with his papers held out in his hand.  By the time he reached the veranda, he was slightly out of breath from his dashed efforts to get there on time.

 

The roads had been even worse than Ben had suspected and Adam was glad that his father had opted  to keep Little Joe home today and not allow him to ride along such roads on his own.   There were large ruts all the way down the road and some dangerous foot holes in places that could see a horse and rider come to grief if they were not totally concentrating.

 

 

 

 

 

“Sorry I’m late, Mr Nelson, but the roads are very bad today after the storm last night,” Adam said in his deep baritone voice.   

 

Thomas had been standing furthest away from the crowd, and now peeked a look at the new contender from underneath the brim of his hat.  

 

“That’s alright, Mr Cartwright,  I was a little worried that you weren’t going to make it on time.  I’m sure that all your papers are in order, Adam.   Please give my regards to your father when you return home,” Nelson said, as he took the bid documents from Adam.

 

“Gentlemen, as you are probably aware, going over all of these papers is going to take more than one day.  My colleague and I will look at all your bids in turn and assess them according to merit.   If you would all return one week from today at this same place,  my associate, Mr Collins, will announce the successful winner of the contract.    I trust you have a pleasant day,” he added and then turned to walk back to their makeshift office behind the General Store.

 

Mr Williams isn’t going to like this very much, Thomas said to himself as he watched Adam Cartwright mount his horse again and ride off back down the street.   

 

Adam had only travelled a few metres down the road when he saw the person he was looking for walking along the row of store fronts.      He hitched his horse at the nearest railing and went to speak to the silver-haired man known as Doctor Paul Martin.

 

Thomas had seen Adam meet with the middle-aged doctor and moved closer to the pair so as to try and over hear the conversation.    He knew very little about these Cartwright people, and much of what he had heard was by word of mouth only.  He needed to discover for himself what sort of men the Cartwrights were.  

 

The one known as Adam Cartwright certainly looked a good enough adversary.  Was the rest of the family the same?   Maybe Williams had taken on a family a bit more out of his league.  Maybe he would have to forget about this contract and look for another opportunity down the track.

 

It was only after hearing the conversation for a few minutes that Thomas began to gather information that might prove very useful.  

 

 

 

“Pa wanted to know if you could come out and take a look at Little Joe, Paul,” Adam said.  “He and Hoss returned from their hunting trip yesterday, but it seems Joe got clawed by a bear.  Its not too serious and Pa cleaned it out as best he could and kept Little Joe home from school today, but he wanted you to come and take a look and make sure that there was no risk of infection.   You know how Pa feels about his

youngest son,”  Adam added.

 

Paul Martin nodded his head in agreement.   If there was anything more stable in this world of uncertainty, it was the unconditional love of Ben Cartwright towards his sons and especially towards his youngest son Joseph.   It was no secret to Adam, Hoss or the rest of Virginia City that Ben looked out for the boy at every turn.   “I’ll just get my bag from my office, Adam, and I will get out there as I make my way to the Wilson farm.”

 

Thomas’s mind started filtering some of the information he was hearing.   Looking at Adam Cartwright, he guessed the man’s age to be about 27 or so.   But here he was talking about somebody else in the family who still attended school.   He had assumed, from the information given, that all the Cartwrights were grown men.  Listening to this conversation, it appeared that this was not the case.   Maybe there was some possible leverage here that might work to his boss’s advantage.  

 

Neither he or his boss were above such things as blackmail or physical force to obtain their objectives.  Williams normally just hired somebody else to do the dirty work for him.   Maybe there was a way to persuade the Cartwright’s to withdraw their bid from the tender with just the right amount of pressure and the right amount of threatening.

 

Thomas quickly withdrew from his current position in the shadows and walked down the alleyway in the opposite direction to avoid being seen.   He had to go back and tell Williams about the Cartwright’s putting in a bid, but maybe they could discuss an alternative way to win the contract back.

 

Adam mounted his horse again and started riding towards his last errand before returning to the Ponderosa.   He needed to get back and inform his father about the state of the road.   Hopefully with enough time left in the day, they could get a group of ranch hands together and do some repairs to the road before the afternoon was out.

 

***********************************************************

 

As Adam entered the house, he could hear his father’s voice echo throughout the room.  By the sound of things, his father was having trouble keeping an active 16 year-old boy entertained by himself.

 

“Joseph, will you please find something useful to do for the afternoon, or I will find some school work for you to do,” Ben threatened.    The morning had progressed relatively well due to the boy sleeping in until after 9.00am.    After a small breakfast, Joe had attempted to keep himself occupied by helping Hop Sing in the kitchen with his weekly baking.  

 

Hop Sing usually did a week’s worth of baking of  things such as bread, cakes and biscuits, that would see the whole family through until the end of the week.   If he did this, there only came the necessity to bake an occasional apple or apricot pie for dessert during the week.    Despite all of his culinary expertise, it was often the case that he ran out of pastries and sweet things early due to having to keep up with Hoss’s appetite.

 

Hop Sing didn’t mind cooking extra for his family.  It was exactly through these eyes that he saw the Cartwright family.  He had been there almost from the time Ben Cartwright arrived on the site of the yet to be Ponderosa.   He had seen the young men grow from young boys into mature and responsible adults.   

 

As for Little Joe, well, he would always have a special place in the little oriental man’s heart.   Hop Sing had been there when the little curly haired baby had demanded to greet the world three weeks early.   From the moment he saw the tiny infant, he had promised himself and the gurgling child in the crib that he would be there no matter what.  As the baby grew into a toddler and into a boy, those feelings only seemed to grow stronger until Hop Sing felt more protective than ever over the youngest member of the family.  

 

Nevertheless, all these feelings had been pushed to the limit this morning when Joe first walked into the kitchen and offered to help with the baking.   Within only an hour there was more flour and sugar on the kitchen floor and on Joe himself than in the mixing bowls.  

 

Ben had been busily working at his desk on some payroll figures when he heard the initial tirade of Cantonese followed by Little Joe running from the kitchen with Hop Sing close behind wielding a rolling pin.

 

“You tell little boy to keep out of kitchen or Hop Sing get mad.   Floor all white from split flour.   Little Joe too messy in Hop Sing’s kitchen.  Father keep boy busy or no supper fixed for tonight for anybody,” he said, as he stomped back towards his kitchen, still muttering some incoherent words.

 

“I was only trying to help, Pa,” Joe said giving his best innocent and hurt look to his father.   He had tried to mix the batter the way Hop Sing had showed him. It had looked so easy when he had seen it being done.  

 

Joe reached up and brushed some of the snow white flour from his curly brown hair and walked over closer to his father’s desk.   “I’m bored, Pa,” he finally admitted whilst sitting on the edge of the table.

 

“Don’t sit on the table, please, Joseph,” Ben said trying to keep his temper in check.   He knew that the boy meant well and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.  “How’s your arm feeling this morning?” Ben said, attempting to change the topic of conversation.

 

“Um, oh, its fine, Pa,” Joe answered too quickly.   Joe usually tried his best to hide how he was feeling physically.   He didn’t like being sick or injured, but the threats of getting a doctor were even worse to Little Joe, so he had  learnt over the years to hide his grimaces and keep his aches and pains to himself.

 

Joe knew it was pointless to ask his father about going outside, so he stretched himself out on the couch and tried to look as though he was reading one of Adam’s books.   Truth be known, Joe’s arm had begun to ache a little from all the mixing in Hop Sing’s kitchen.  

 

Ben was suddenly drawn away from his books and paperwork by the total silence of the room.    He got up from his desk and smiled tender-heartedly at the sight of his young son curled up on the settee, sound asleep.  

 

He couldn’t help but note how painfully much his son looked like Marie.  It was even more evident when those dark lashes closed over the boy’s emerald green eyes in slumber.    The boy looked no more than thirteen,  much younger than his actual age of sixteen. 

 

That was how Joe remained for over an hour before Adam came into the living room and heard his brother arguing with his father.

 

“How’d you go in town, son?” Ben enquired as he glanced up to see Adam walking in.

 

“Fine, Pa,” Adam replied  “Got the bid in just in the nick of time.   I think we should really well if we are lucky enough to win the contract.   I also ran into Doc Martin and asked him to come out,” he added and instantly knew he had gotten the expected scowl from Joe.    

 

Joe now sat on the couch, looking at the floor in a huff.    How things had turned against him so much in a day he couldn’t work out.    He had been yelled at and chased by Hop Sing with a rolling pin, he wasn’t allowed to do anything but look at the four internal walls of the house and now

 

Adam was telling him that Doc Martin was on his way as well.  Probably only to prod and poke him a bit and then tell his father that all he needed was rest.   Rest, in Joe’s opinion, was the last thing he needed right now. 

 

Adam could sense Joe’s unhappy mood at being cooped up in the house all morning, and he decided to help out both his brother and his father at the same time.  “Pa, that road going to Virginia City sure needs some repairing today.   There are lots of dangerous ruts and crevices since the storm last night.  I want to take a few of the ranch hands and fill in a few of those holes before somebody gets hurt.  It would only take somebody riding along that rode and not looking at where they were going to have a serious accident occur,”  Adam gave his father all the clues in the world to indicate that he actually meant his little brother. 

 

It was no secret that Joe rode his horse at neck breaking speed anytime his father wasn’t watching.   Joe would only need to race along the narrow stretch of dirt and have Cochise step into an unseen hole.   Both the horse and the rider could be seriously injured or killed.

 

Ben did get the meaning of his son’s suggestions.    “And I suppose you would like your younger brother to accompany you this afternoon as well, Adam?” he asked whilst looking in Joe’s direction.  Joe’s head quickly snapped up at hearing that he might be indeed rescued from his boredom.

 

“Could I really, Pa?” Joe said in his most innocent voice.    He gave a certain puppy dog look that all the other Cartwrights only knew so well, and both Adam and Ben rolled their eyes in mock disgust at the boy’s antics.

 

“I don’t really see why not,” Ben began,  “so long as you stick with Adam and do as you are told.   And after you have been seen to by Doc Martin,” he added and noted another scowl marring his son’s handsome face in an instant.   He and Adam chuckled out loud at Joe’s performance.

 

Waiting impatiently for another hour, Joe was soon being poked and prodded, like he had guessed, by the family’s physician and friend, Doctor Paul Martin.     

 

 

 

 

“I don’t think there’s too much to worry about, Ben,” Paul said, as he rewrapped the gash on Joe’s arm in a fresh bandage.  “The wound looks nasty, but its nice and clean and there is no sign of infection.   I think he should be right to return to school tomorrow although, it wouldn’t hurt for you to alert the teacher to the injury.   I wouldn’t suggest he play any rough games for a couple of days, and he shouldn’t be lifting anything too heavy.”

 

“Other than that he’s fit as a fiddle, Ben,” Paul said getting off the couch and preparing to leave again.

 

“Thanks for coming at such short notice, Paul,” Ben said, as he shook the doctor’s hand.   “I appreciate it.”

 

“Goodbye, Adam and Joe,” Paul said, as he exited the front door.    “Let me know if you need me again, Ben.”

 

Ben returned inside and noticed Adam getting ready to go back out and fix the road with the hands.  “You be careful, Joseph, and remember what the doctor said about heavy lifting.” 

 

“I’ll remember, Pa,” Joe said, a little exasperated.   He knew that his family meant well and cared for him, but sometimes he just wanted to be let alone to do things on his own. 

 

Adam and Joe spent a good three hours out on the road helping the hands to fill in some of the holes on the dirt road.    Joe had been restrained from doing too much by Adam and mostly watched as the men worked, but at least he was outdoors.  

 

A couple of times he had been able to shovel some dirt into the holes, but after only a few minutes, he discreetly put the tool down and rubbed at his aching arm.   He resumed his earlier position of watching from near the horses until they were ready to head for home.

 

That night the family settled at a fine table set for supper.  The topic of conversation changed a number of times from Hoss’s day with the stock to the progress of repairing the road.   Adam told Ben that he thought the road was now safe enough for Joe to go to school tomorrow.   

 

Adam had suggested that maybe somebody should ride with him in the morning, but Ben could see the temper flair in his son at this idea and calmly said that he was sure that Joe would be sensible and careful enough to ride on his own.    What he didn’t tell Joe was that he planned to be in Virginia City towards the end of the school day and see to the boy making it home safely.

 

After supper Joe and Hoss played three rounds of checkers before Ben announced that it was time for Joe to go to bed.   Joe grumbled at the time as he looked and noticed it was half an hour earlier than usual.   A quick look at his father’s stern, determined face told Joe he had better think again about arguing, and he reluctantly bid his older brothers goodnight before climbing the stairs.

 

Ben retired to his own bed about two hours later, but he made sure that his young son was sleeping soundly first.   He crept into the room as was the custom each night and turned down the lamp beside the bed.   The dim light now bathed Joe’s face in a soft golden light.   Ben couldn’t help but feel a lump rise to his throat as he watched his youngest sleep.    There were times such as these when the words to express how much he loved the boy just wouldn’t come out.   He gently stroked the boy’s cheek and closed the door as he left the room.

 

***********************************************************

 

The next morning saw Joe rushing around at the last minute, trying to get ready for school again.  He had gotten dressed and was trying to put his boots on at the breakfast table and still have enough time to finish his eggs before he had to leave.   

 

“Sorry, Pa, gotta go,” he said, as he raced out through the front door towards the barn.   He quickly saddled Cochise and was about to mount his horse and ride off when Adam appeared at the doorway to the barn with something in his hand.

 

“You forgot these, Joe,” Adam said, as he held up Joe’s school books.   He let Joe mount and then proceeded to tuck the books in the saddle bags.  He buckled up the strap on the bag and give his brother a quick wave as he started riding towards the school.  At this rate the boy would still be about 10 minutes late for school, but at least he would have something to learn from when he turned up there.

 

“Thanks,” was the reply and Joe rode out of sight.

 

Adam returned to the house and to the table, ready to discuss his day’s work with his father.

 

For whatever reason, this morning Joe heeded his father’s words about taking it slowly and carefully along the repaired road.  When asked a few weeks later, he would not be able to come up with a satisfactory answer to the question of why he didn’t race to school as normal.  

 

There were a lot of things about that particular morning that would remain in his memory for a long time to come.   There were a few things about that morning that he would never forget.

 

As Joe neared the halfway mark between the Ponderosa and Virginia City, he came upon a peculiar sight on the roadway.   He stopped his horse Cochise a few metres from the spot until he had worked out exactly what he was looking at.

 

It appeared that a man was laying in the middle of the road.   Who he was or why he was there, Joe didn’t know.   Normally he would have been riding too fast to stop and take note, but something told him that he should stop and check that the man didn’t need help or anything.  From the way it looked at the moment, the man could be hurt or dead because he wasn’t moving at all.

 

Over in the trees along the roadway,  two other figures watched  the young curly-haired man stop his horse and dismount.  The boy was craning his neck, trying to see if the man was moving or not.   He dropped the reins of his horse and started to walk a little closer to the man.     He was now at the man’s feet, and the man still showed no

signs of moving, and so he decided he best try and shake the man awake.

 

Just as he bent down and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, the figure on the roadway moved.   He not only moved but Joe now found himself falling backwards and looking straight down the barrel of the man’s gun as the man rolled over and pulled himself into a sitting position.   The man wasn’t hurt or dead,  it was all a trick to get somebody to stop.    Unfortunately, Joe said to himself, he was that somebody.   

 

Joe had no gun with him and thus no means of defending himself if necessary.   “Look, mister, I just stopped to see if you were alright, that’s all,” he said nervously whilst still maintaining his sight on the gun pointed at him.

 

“Looks like this just ain’t your lucky day, kid,” the man said, as he now moved himself into a standing position while still pointing the gun at Joe.   He let out a whistle, and now Joe turned his head towards the two other men who appeared from behind the trees and started to walk towards him.   

 

 

 

 

 

It was now that Joe told himself to run.   He didn’t know who these men were or what they wanted, but he knew it couldn’t be good for him.  He hastily tried to get to his feet and take off at a run in the opposite direction.  If he could just make it back to Cochise, he would be safe.  He could mount Cochise and be far away from his would-be attackers in a matter of seconds.

 

The two men to Joe’s left saw him trying to make a run for it and get to his horse and immediately began to pursue him.     They couldn’t afford to let the kid get away.

 

Joe knew that he was too far away for his screams of help to be heard by his family but that didn’t stop him from trying to alert somebody to his situation.  He started yelling for somebody to help him and for the men to leave him alone as he ran.     

 

Due to the state of the road, it was an unseen rock that Joe tripped over while trying to get away that allowed the men to catch him.   Joe had come down painfully on his knees and was just starting to scramble to his feet again in desperation when he felt a pair of hands grab him around his chest and start dragging him backwards.

 

He was now scared and it made him try and scream louder for somebody to help him.   His cries of help were quickly cut off by one of the assailant’s placing a rough and calloused hand over the boy’s mouth and clamping it down tight.   

 

 Both of the men now started to drag the still struggling boy off the roadway out of sight behind the trees.   The third man tried to catch a hold of the reins of Cochise, and then led her behind the thicket of trees as well.

 

Joe struggled and struggled to get away from his attackers, but the men were just too strong, and no matter how hard he kicked and fought, their grip still remained vice like around his chest.    The hand over his mouth still remained firmly in place and Joe thought he would pass out from the lack of oxygen.

 

Joe now felt himself roughly pushed against the trunk of a tree and the men tried to get the upper hand and restrain him.    Joe was still trying to yell through the hand over his mouth.   He could see Cochise giving the third man a hard time and hoped that somehow his animal friend might find a way to help free him.  

 

 

 

Joe felt his wrists being bound together tightly by rough fibrous string out in front of him.    His ankles were next.   There was no way he could run anywhere now.   He was trapped.    It was now that the hand over his mouth was released briefly.  

 

Joe took this opportunity and tried to scream for help again.   He was quickly silenced by a savage slap across his face that stung from the force.   Joe now looked towards the face of the man in front of him and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

 

“If you scream again, I promise you worse than that,” the man said.   The voice was cold and hard and although barely above a whisper, something about it made Joe take note of what was being said to him.

 

“How we gonna get him away from here now, Butch?” one of the other men asked the leader standing in front of Joe.

 

“You just leave the thinking to me.  I’ve got this all figured out,” Thomas said.   “You two just make sure the horses are saddled and ready to go in a few minutes.  We have to get out of here quickly.  Somebody might be coming along here in a minute, and I want to be long gone before that happens.    This kid ain’t going nowhere, I assure you,” he added and looked directly at Joe as he said the words.    

 

“Who are you and what do you want with me?” Joe asked nervously. 

 

“Don’t ask too many questions, kid, and you might live through this,” Thomas answered.  “We just want your daddy to sit up and listen for a minute.   After he does what we tell him, you can go back to him.”   Somehow the words sounded very fake to Joe as he looked upon his captors.  They hardly looked like the kind to keep their

word. 

 

“And now my, little friend, its time for you to go to sleep for a while,” Thomas said  “And when you wake up, you will be in a nice new little place far, far from here.  Now hold still a minute, this stuff takes a minute to actually work,” he said, as Joe watched him pull a coloured handkerchief from his pants pocket.

 

The checkered cloth had a pungent smell to it that was unmistakeable:  ETHER.  Even though Joe was only sixteen, he had learnt enough from Doc Martin over the years to know what the stuff was and what it’s effects were when used on people.    It was now that Joe became even more afraid for his life and started to struggle against his bonds and captors once more.   

 

“That won’t do you any good, kid,” Thomas said with an evil chuckle as he started descending the cloth towards the boy’s face.   Joe tried to turn his head away in an attempt to avoid the intoxicating fumes.  

 

One of the other men grabbed Joe’s head by his curly hair and forced his face towards the cloth.    Thomas was now able to secure the cloth of Little Joe’s mouth and nose.   The kid had started to scream for help again, but the cries were now muffled by the cloth and barely audible for anybody to hear him.

 

Joe tried to hold in his breath in an attempt not to breath in the fumes.   His attempts failed, however, and as soon as Joe released the breath, the fumes began to invade his nostrils and sinuses.    He could feel his head beginning to swim from the drug and he began to feel very light-headed.   He told himself that he couldn’t afford to fall asleep while in the hands of these men.  They wanted to take him away from his family.  

 

Thomas became impatient at how long the drug was taking to work and pressed the cloth even firmer against the boy’s mouth and nose.   By now the kid’s struggles had become weaker and weaker.  Soon they ceased all together, and he felt Joe’s body go completely limp.   The boy’s knees began to buckle and he had to grab the kid around the chest again to prevent him collapsing to the ground.  The boy was now unconscious.  

 

Thomas held the cloth in place for a few more seconds before removing it.  He placed it back in his pocket, knowing that it might be necessary to dose the kid again along the way.   The ride to the shack was about six hours, and he had no idea how long the kid would be asleep.   He slapped the kid on the face a couple of times just to be sure that he was unconscious.

 

Joe was deeply under the effects of the Ether, and didn’t even stir at the slaps.   Thomas now secured a blindfold over Joe’s eyes and, then tied him face down over the front of his horse.   A blanket was placed over the top of the kid to avoid the possibility of him being seen as the men rode.  

 

Thomas now mounted his horse along with the other men.   Cochise was tethered to one of the low hanging branches of the trees. 

 

“Make sure that you tuck that note into his saddle somehow,” Thomas said to the third man before they started their journey.   The man did as he was told but decided that he would like to have Joe’s saddle bags as a souvenir.   He unbuckled the saddle bags with Joe’s initials on them and then tucked the rolled piece of paper in the front part of the saddle.   The trio now rode off down a different trail towards their hide-out with their hostage.

 

Joe’s family assumed that he had been at school today.  It wouldn’t be until much later in the day that they would discover the boy’s forced disappearance.   By that time the three men with their hostage would be almost at their intended destination. 

 

The trip turned out to be a long one for all.  Mostly because they had kept the pace up during the whole journey in fear that the boy would be discovered missing sooner rather than later.  They wanted to make sure that if any search party were looking for the kid, they had a sufficient head start.    

 

The small shack came into view, and the three men almost sighed relief at the sight.  They were lucky that their kidnap victim had remained under the effects the Ether for the entire trip. 

 

 Joe had made a few inaudible moans during the arduous ride, face down on the horse but the sound of the hooves racing along the dirt road muffled them to the extent that his assailants never even knew that the unconscious boy was making them.

 

The horses stopped out front of the shack and started breathing hard to slow down their heart rates and regain some of their lost energy.   Their masters wearily climbed down from their backs and walked forward to open the door to the abandoned dwelling. 

 

The front door swung open with a creak and revealed a sparsely furnished two-roomed shack.  It was obvious that not only had the place been abandoned a very long time ago but the infrequent visits during the year by squatting trappers had seen the little shack fall into a state of disrepair.  

 

There were a few hand-made rickety chairs, enough for all of the men.   They all looked like they were ready to fall apart as soon as someone sat on their unsteady frames.

 

There was a small pot belly stove in one corner of the larger room, but it was of no use as part of the chimney was missing from the top.   They wouldn’t be able to start a fire without suffocating themselves in all the smoke that would result. The floor was rock hard dirt that had been worn down with years of continual trampling over it. 

 

The men were now thankful that they had all brought along their bedrolls.  At least with their blankets and saddles they would be granted a little comfort from the cold that would permeate the floor during the cool nights.    

 

There was very small room to the left of the larger one.  It was probably used as a single bedroom when the shack was permanently occupied, but for now Butch Thomas surveyed the area and marked the room as a cell for his hostage.  At least with the kid in there, escape would be almost impossible without the three of them seeing his attempts to flee first.

 

The man had brought a few days supply of food and water with them.  They would just have to endure the rest of the primitive conditions for a few days until Cartwright came to the party and withdrew his bid for the lumber contract. 

 

Butch Thomas untied his saddle and bedroll from his horse first.  He set them up inside so that he would soon be able to get a few hours of sleep.  He knew that the next few days would be long and tedious until they got word from either Williams or Cartwright.  

 

Thomas had instructions that no matter what the probable outcome, he was to make sure that Cartwright was taught a lesson through his son.  Thomas had been told that he had to keep the kid alive until the ransom note was received, but other than that, Williams had put Thomas in complete charge.   He and Thomas had discussed that the way to hurt Ben Cartwright the most was through one of his treasured sons. 

 

 Thomas had assured Williams that although he wouldn’t kill the boy, he would want to make sure that the boy never forgot the name of Butch Thomas.  He wanted the boy to fear his very presence no matter where he was.   He would become the kid’s ultimate nightmare.  One that was real and came back to haunt the boy time and time again, even once the kid was back with his family. 

 

Of course there would be the physical injuries to remind the boy as well.    He intended to deliver a few so-called ”bumps and bruisesto Little Joe, but after a time they would heal and the kid would eventually forget that he had ever been under the control of Butch Thomas. 

 

What Thomas intended to inflict on the boy mentally was a lifetime of torture and torment that would scarcely leave the boy alone.  He wanted to make sure that the kid would never ever forget.

 

Butch Thomas walked out to his horse for a second time and pulled the blanket from the limp form, still bound over the front part of the horse.   The boy was still unconscious. Thomas was mentally kicking himself, thinking that he had overdone things with the ether and the kid would already be dead before he could have some fun with him.  

 

He was brought back to reality with the small groans that escaped the boy’s cracked lips as he hauled Joe’s body from the horse and dumped him unceremoniously on the hard dirt floor of the smaller room inside the shack.

 

It looked as though the kid might prove  to be a tougher nut to crack than he first gave the kid credit for.   The kid might turn out to be a challenge after all.  He would just have to wait and see, he told himself, and grinned devilishly at the thought of the days ahead.

 

Thomas didn’t bother to remove the blindfold from Little Joe’s eyes.   He looked at the crumpled form laying on the hard dirt floor.   The kid didn’t move or make any sounds.   It was enough to assume that the kid would continue to sleep for a few more hours.   Enough time for the weary kidnappers to get some shut-eye of their own. 

 

Thomas closed the door to the small room and went about laying down on his bedroll.   He didn’t bother to spare their hostage a blanket for warmth.   He only had one, and he wasn’t about to give it up for any kid, no matter what the kid might be worth, money-wise. 

 

Thomas now closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.  The other two men were already asleep in their own bedrolls.   The little shack was completely silent once again.

 

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CHAPTER THREE

 

 

Ben Cartwright had filled his day with a few menial chores around the ranch.  It was about 2.00 pm and after lunch that he rode into Virginia City.   He had a few odd errands to run before he would conveniently turn up at his son’s school in time to accompany him home.   

 

Although his boy was now sixteen years old, the incident with the bear on the camping trip reminded Ben of just how vulnerable his youngest son could be at times. 

 

When he finally collected the mail at the post office, Ben looked at his watch and saw that he had a spare ten minutes before Joe would be finished with school.   He told himself that this would be the perfect opportunity to sneak up on the boy and see first hand how he was performing in Miss Abigail’s class.   

 

He was reminded about the constant stream of arguments that he and Joe seemed to be having lately about him leaving school early to work on the ranch with his brothers.  

 

Ben was firm, though, and told Joe that he would not be leaving school for another year no matter what.   He secretly wished that the boy would follow in Adam’s footsteps and show some interest in attending college. He knew that Joe had demonstrated on more than one occasion that he had no intentions whatsoever of attending college.  

 

Partly that was because Joe feared leaving his family and familiarity behind.  Joe would be lost in the big city and Ben would feel like a piece of his soul had been taken away if Joe left the Ponderosa even for a short time.   No, Joe’s home was with his family on the Ponderosa and always would be.  

 

Ben tethered Buck at the hitching rail outside the school.  He briefly glanced at the stalls where the children kept their horses during class.  He was a bit disturbed when he didn’t see the familiar black and white pinto amongst the other animals.    He started to wonder if school had been let out early, and Joe had started off towards home on his own. 

 

As Ben neared the front door to the school room, he could hear the deep, even voice of the school teacher, Miss Abigail Jones, as the children recited their multiplication table.    This information told him that school had not been let out early for the day.  

 

Where was Joe, he asked himself secretly.   He started to imagine all sorts of reasons why Joe wouldn’t be at school.   He told himself that he would be delivering a severe lecture and possibly a tanning to go with it if one son had defied his wishes and actually skipped school today.

 

Ben’s train of thought was interrupted by Miss Jones greeting him at the door.  All the children giggled at the door as they saw the school teacher making conversation with the eligible Cartwright.  It was not secret in Virginia City that Abigail Jones was a spinster on the hunt for a husband.  A fine, upstanding and wealthy citizen, like Ben Cartwright, who was also a widower, would be an excellent choice.

 

“Good afternoon, Mr Cartwright,” Miss Jones said to Ben.  “I trust that Joseph is feeling a little better today.  I suspect you have come to collect his day’s work instead of Adam today?”

 

“Isn’t Joseph here?” Ben said, asking the most obvious question, already knowing the answer as well.

 

“I sorry, Mr Cartwright, I don’t understand,” Miss Jones said, a little perplexed.   “Adam came by yesterday and told me that Joseph had a minor accident whilst camping and wouldn’t be attending yesterday.  When Joseph didn’t turn up this morning, I just assumed that he still wasn’t feeling the best and you had decided to keep him home another day.”

 

“Miss Jones, Joseph left for school this morning like any other day,” Ben said, trying to hide the worry and anxiety starting to build up inside him.  “You say you haven’t seen him all day?” he enquired.

 

“No, Mr Cartwright, I haven’t.  I trust everything is alright and Joseph hasn’t done anything foolish,” she said, avoiding mentioning Joe’s sometimes flippant attitude towards his schooling.  It was no secret to her, either, that Joe wished to be working with his father and brothers rather than sitting in a classroom all day.

 

“I’m sure it is, Miss Jones,”  Ben said, as he prepared to go and start looking for his wayward son.  “Don’t worry, Joseph will be here first thing in the morning, and I will make sure that he catches up the lessons he had missed for the last two days.  Good day, Miss Jones,” he said and turned and quickly mounted Buck to head for home.

 

 

 

 

 

Ben tried not to think the worst of his son as he tried to work out why Joe hadn’t attended school today.   Maybe there was an explanation for his absence.   He was always ready to give his sons the benefit of the doubt, but he also knew that if he found that Joseph had lied to him, the boy would be on the receiving end of some sort of punishment. 

 

Ben failed to note that the closer he got to the house, the quicker his pace.  Something deep inside him told him that his son had not deliberately disobeyed him.   A feeling of dread started to settle in the pit of Ben’s stomach.

 

Adam and Hoss had been working on their chores when they heard the sound of pounding hooves approaching the ranch yard.  Both of them expected it to be their younger brother.    They were both surprised when they turned and saw their father gallop into the yard aboard Buck.  

 

They had seen their father continually chastise their younger brother for running into the yard at such a pace.   All of them remembered too well the day Joe’s mother Marie had been killed.  Why was Pa running into the yard at such frightening speed?

 

“What’s wrong, Pa?” Adam asked, as he and Hoss walked over to their father as he dismounted from his horse.  Buck was lathered with sweat, and they could tell that the horse had been running for some time.   Something was wrong. 

 

“Have either of you seen your younger brother today?” Ben demanded while he tried to catch his own breath. Adam looked at Hoss and both of them shook their heads at one another. 

 

“No, neither of us has seen him since breakfast, Pa,” Adam answered for the both of them.  “Why, what’s wrong?” he asked, as he felt the worry and concern radiating from his father.

 

“I just came from the school,” Ben paused whilst he tried to scan his older boys’ reaction “Joe never turned up there today,” he then added.  “His horse wasn’t in the stalls when I went past, either.   I don’t think he even got there this morning,” he said, trying to convey his concern as calmly as possible.

 

“Where would he have gone, Pa?” Hoss now asked.   Ben could sense that Hoss was instantly worried about his younger brother.   Hoss wouldn’t even have thought about the boy missing school.  He just wanted to protect his baby brother and make sure he went through life alright.

 

Ben was taken aback by Adam’s reaction, though.  He knew that Adam was normally the first to dismiss the boy’s actions as careless and self-destructive.  Ben fully expected Adam to come out saying that this sounded exactly like something Joe would do.  It certainly wasn’t the first time that the boy hadn’t turned up at school. 

 

This time, however, there was immediate concern in Adam’s reaction which made Ben’s own worry divide and multiply.  “Has anybody seen him today?” Adam said, as he logically tried to work out where the missing boy might have gone.

 

“I haven’t had the chance to talk to anybody yet.   Maybe that’s where we should start first,” Ben said, secretly praising his eldest son’s ability to be calm at the time of a crisis.  It was always Adam who steered this family through difficult times and it looked as though this might be another such time. 

 

“Let’s get saddled up and go back into town and ask around if anybody has seen him today,” Ben instructed.   “Hoss, you better saddle me one of the other horses.   Buck’s about done in for today from that ride home.” Hoss gave a simple nod and headed into the barn to saddle a horse for his Pa and his own horse Chubb.  

 

Within twenty minutes the three of them were mounted on their respective horses and started down the road towards Virginia City.  All three of them rode in silence at first.  They were lost in their own thoughts about what might have happened to Joe.  

 

Ben felt a little uncomfortable on the unfamiliar horse.  The animal moved well enough, although not as smoothly at his own horse Buck.   The animal shied away from a few of the remaining ruts in the road, and it took most of Ben’s concentration to control the nervous animal as they travelled.   The rest of his concentration was directed towards his youngest son and his whereabouts.

 

Adam’s horse Sport was closest to the line of trees as they made their way towards the city.  They had made some basic plans about splitting up when they got to town to cut down the time frame and speak to as many people as possible who might have seen Joe this morning on his way to school.

 

They were almost at the point where Joe had been taken from when Adam’s horse began to slow down and act strangely.   Adam tried to talk to the horse calmly but still Sport moved one way and then the other.  Ben and Hoss slowed their own horses down to try and assist Adam.  

 

“What’s wrong with him, Adam?” Hoss asked, as Adam still struggled to get Sport to behave.

 

“I don’t know, Hoss,” Adam said, as he shortened the reins and tried to get the horse to stop his strange behaviour.

 

It was only then that they all heard a familiar whinny from underneath the line of trees to Adam’s right.   Sport gave a reply, and it was only then that all three of them realised why Adam’s horse Sport had started to act up as they rode past this particular spot.

 

Ben’s hopes soared that they had found his son Joseph, and all of them quickly rode towards the tree line.

 

When they neared the tree, Adam was the first to spot Joe’s horse Cochise.   The pinto again gave a whinny as Sport and Chubb approached.   The horses had been stable mates for a long time, hence the whinnying when they where near each other.

 

Adam dismounted and walked over to the black and white painted horse.   He was quickly glancing about, trying to see any signs of the rider who had perhaps fallen and failed to make it to school today for that reason.   His theory was quickly falling apart as neither of them could find any sign of Joe in the nearby area.

 

Cochise appeared to be unhurt. The horse seemed very calm and relaxed.  Its breathing was normal and not laboured, indicating that the horse had been tethered to the tree for a long time.   If the horse had been here for some time as things suggested, where was Joe?

 

“Where can Joe be?” Ben asked out loud as he too began to scan the nearby road and area behind the trees, hopeful of finding his son, maybe hurt from a fall of his horse, but finding him nonetheless.  Still he couldn’t see the boy, and his hopes quickly waned and were replaced by fear once again.

 

“Something don’t add up, Pa,” Hoss now said to Ben, voicing his concern.  “Joe would never leave Cochise unattended for this length of time.”   Joe was careless at times but not this careless with Cochise.

 

Adam had walked around to the opposite side of Cochise to scan the area in the other direction for a sign of his missing brother.   He had moved his hand along the horse’s rump towards her head whilst he walked, and it was only now that he spotted the rolled up piece of paper jutting out from the front of the saddle.  

 

He seemed to be fixated to the spot for a few seconds as he tried to figure out what the piece of paper might mean to his brother’s whereabouts.   His own fears began multiplying increasingly and he nervously took the piece of paper out of its hiding place.

 

“Pa,” Adam said in almost a whisper as he shakily handed his father the piece of paper.  For just a moment, Adam’s deep brown eyes met his father’s.   Words weren’t needed to be said, as they could each read the fear in the other man.

 

Ben nervously took the slip of paper from his eldest son.  For a few seconds all he was able to do was hold it in his hands and wonder what might be written on it.  Could it hold a clue to his son’s disappearance?

 

 Something about it told him that it held a much more sinister than a simple clue to Joe’s whereabouts.  He felt his heart pounding in his chest and the his heart suddenly weighted very heavy as he thought of his youngest son.

 

Ben could feel the eyes of both his sons looking at him. He knew that they wanted to see what was written on the piece of paper as well.  With hands as shaky as Adam’s, he began to unroll the note.

 

At first the handwriting was so messy that Ben started to think that the note might actually be written by his left-handed son.   Maybe Joe was in some trouble, but was able to write a note to his family to tell them where he was to come and help him.  

 

As Ben’s eyes read down the piece of paper, his heart began to constrict even more at the words he read and the threat that they held towards his youngest son.

 

Adam and Hoss wanted to shout at their father to read the note out loud.  But something about the older man’s pale complexion caused them to become worried about their father.  

 

Ben suddenly felt as though his legs were too weak to hold him up, and without warning he fell to the hard ground on his knees.   He still held the piece of paper but enough to read the contents.

 

 Somehow, he was trying to convince himself that what he was reading was a terrible hoax.   This couldn’t be happening to his son he told himself.   It was all a bad joke. 

 

 

 

Adam and Hoss had gasped out loud as they saw their father overcome with emotion and fall to his knees as the burden obviously became too much.   They were about to try and help their father stand up when they saw him gaze back up at them.  

 

They could see that their father was barely holding back his tears.   He handed the note to Adam and motioned that he read it out aloud. 

 

Adam looked at Hoss and then at his father.  The latter seemed to be gaining control of himself, but as Adam started to read the note, Ben put his head in his hands as the words echoed in his mind:

 

 

          BEN CARTWRIGHT,

       

WE HAVE YOUR  YOUNGEST SON.   IF YOU WANT TO SEE HIM ALIVE AGAIN,  YOU WILL WITHDRAW YOUR BID FOR THE LUMBER CONTRACT.  

 

ONCE YOUR BID IS WITHDRAWN, YOUR SON WILL BE RETURNED TO YOU AT A TIME OF OUR CHOOSING.

 

DON’T TRY AND INVOLVE THE LAW OR HE WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES. 

 

YOU HAVE 24 HOURS TO COMPLY WITH OUR DEMANDS.

 

YOU ARE BEING WATCHED AT ALL TIMES.    YOU WILL BE CONTACTED.”

 

         

The words were now echoing to Adam and Hoss as they were trying to contemplate what sort of danger their brother was in.   Adam’s thoughts were on the lumber contract.  He was trying to figure out who was desperate enough to get the contact. 

 

Who would stoop so low as to hold a boy’s life up against the profit to be gained by the felling of a forest of pine trees?  At the moment with his mind still a whirl from the note, he couldn’t put a face to anybody that he immediately thought might be involved.  

 

“If they hurt Little Joe,” Hoss said, as he tried to hold back the tide of anger within him,   “I’ll……….I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll do,” he said in exasperation.  He couldn’t find the words to match the anger he felt.

 

“I know how you feel, Hoss,” Adam said, putting a comforting hand on the big man’s shoulder. “We all feel that way right now,” he added, trying to justify the way his brother felt. 

 

In all honesty, no matter how much he denied it, he did feel that way, and probably a whole lot more.  He didn’t know what he would do if he came face to face with the men who held his baby brother.  The fact that men used something as precious as a human life, and a boy at that sickened him.   From the wording on the note it seemed that there was at least more than one person involved.

 

Ben was lost in thoughts about what might be happening to his young son at this very moment.   Suddenly his face of worry and pain turned to one of anger as his brown eyes darkened and he let the anger that they all felt show openly.   Adam and Hoss had rarely seen the flames of rage in their father’s deep brown eyes that they

saw now. 

 

It made them take a step back and truly fear for their father.  Ben had always taught his sons to avoid revenge and  retribution when it involved family.   He had taught them to turn the other cheek and let the law handle it, but right now Ben was having trouble finding comfort in his own teachings.  

 

“Come on, we’ve got a lot to discuss back home,” Ben said in a low and deadly voice.  He mounted his substitute horse and started to ride back towards the Ponderosa before Hoss and Adam had even swung into their saddles.

 

Once back at home, Ben walked over to his desk and leaned over the front of it whilst holding himself up.   At first he said nothing as his sons walked through the door prepared to listen to Ben’s plan about how to get Little Joe back.

 

Adam and Hoss sat on the chairs behind their father, waiting for him to say the first words of his plan.   They could see that Joe’s kidnapping deeply worried their father.   They all wanted to see the youngest member of the family back safe and sound.

 

 

 

“Whatever we decide to do, we have to keep the plans to ourselves,” Ben said, as he started the conversation.   It was only now that he turned around to face his two sons.   They both could see the pain and anguish written all over the man’s face.

 

“Adam, I want you to go to Mr Nelson and tell him that we are withdrawing our bid for the lumber contract,” Ben said.

 

“Do you think that’s the best move?” Adam asked without spelling out that he thought his father was giving up too quickly.  He knew how his father felt about Joe, but maybe there was a way to draw out the kidnappers and rescue Joe before they had to do anything hasty about the lumber contract.

 

“Yes,” Ben said curtly, expecting that his request would be taken seriously.  “I will word a carefully written letter to Mr Nelson,” Ben said, as he gave a particular look to Adam.

 

Hoss had not cottoned onto Ben’s idea about how to alert Joe’s kidnapping to Sheriff without alerting their intentions to Joe’s abductors.  If someone was watching them as the note suggested, they would have to be very careful about what they did out in the open for everybody to see.  They would have to conceal their plans in order to carry out their goals without putting Joe’s life in any further danger.

 

“Do you want me to write it, Pa?” Adam asked.

 

“Yes Adam, but I am going to tell you exactly what to say,” Ben said.   Hoss now knew how they planned to alert Roy Coffee.   Ben came over to the settee between his two eldest boys as they sat down to write the letter  that would look as if they were withdrawing their bid to the lumber contract as demanded. 

 

In addition to that, they would have carefully concealed lines in the letter that would alert Mr Nelson and his employer to the predicament the Cartwrights found themselves in.   The letter asked for Mr Nelson to secretly give the letter to Roy Coffee so that he could make careful note about Joe’s abduction.

 

The letter was strictly worded to tell Roy Coffee that he wasn’t to come out to the Ponderosa unless it was urgent.  They told Roy about the family being watched and about the consequences threatened towards Joe if the kidnappers thought the law was involved in some way.

 

 

 

Half an hour after they had arrived back home, Adam found himself back aboard Sport on the road to Virginia City.  At some point during the journey, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise.  He knew that his follower wasn’t far behind.

 

He just hoped that the plan they had worked out would help secure his brother’s safe release.  He just wished they had some sort of clue to the place where Joe was being held.  At the moment they had no idea.

 

When Adam arrived at Nelson’s makeshift office behind the General Store, he made sure that his actions were as deliberate as possible for his follower to see.  He wanted the man to think that they were doing everything they were told to do.  

 

Eugene Nelson looked up surprised to see Adam Cartwright walking into his office.  He hadn’t expected to see any of the contract bidders for another couple of days.

 

“Adam Cartwright,” Nelson greeted him as he got out of his chair and went to shake Adam’s outstretched hand.   He could see Adam’s deliberate actions and could see the younger man looking nervously about. 

 

He knew that something was wrong.  He didn’t know what, but experience told him that whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.  He told himself to play along with Adam for the time being, and he was sure that the younger man would reveal the true reason for his visit in due course.

 

“Just came  to give you this letter of withdrawal for the lumber contract, Mr Nelson,” Adam said in a normal but clear speaking voice.  A volume that everybody would have easily been able to hear.  

 

He had heard the door to the General Store open a few times since he walked in.  He tried not to look back and see if he saw anybody that might have information about his brother.  Out of the corner of his eye he could see a smallish figure lurking towards the back of the store, looking aimlessly at some of the products on the shelf.

 

“Are you sure you want to withdraw your bid?” Nelson asked, as he saw Adam’s expression.  The brown eyes told the man not to ask too many questions.

 

 

 

 

 

“Yes, I am sure, Mr Nelson.  Everything you need know is in that letter,” Adam said.  He briefly held Nelson’s gaze as the man tried to take the sealed envelope from his hand.  Something about Adam’s eyes told Nelson that whatever was wrong, he would find the answer by reading the letter.   

 

Nelson tried to keep up appearances by quickly glancing at the letter as though it were a short note to withdraw the bid.   Upon looking at the letter, he could see that there was much more detail to the letter, but he felt that he would need to read the remaining contents of the letter in the safety of his office, away from prying eyes.

 

Adam kept his meeting with Nelson as short as possible.  He could see from the man’s body language that Nelson understood the secondary nature to the letter.  He just hoped that Nelson wouldn’t take any longer than necessary to alert Roy to the family’s loss.

 

Adam now rode back to the Ponderosa while his mind remained on what might be happening to his younger brother.   He felt the company of his follower behind him until he was almost back at the ranch.   He didn’t  know exactly when the man stopped following him.  He was too afraid for Joe to look back and try and discover the direction of the man’s travel.

 

Back in Virginia City, Eugene Nelson had gone to his office and locked the door behind him.   He had seen a smallish man leave the store right after Adam and assumed that he must have been the reason for Adam’s secrecy and urgent behaviour.    He pulled out the folded letter again and now read the letter word for word very carefully.  

 

As the got further and further down the page his eyes widened at just how much trouble the Cartwrights were in and what a terrible danger Ben’s youngest son Joseph was in.   He made sure that he made note of all the things in the letter that he was supposed to see, especially the part about alerting the Sheriff but telling him that he must under no circumstances come out to the ranch.  

 

Nelson slipped the letter back into his pocket and calmly walked out the back door to his office and casually walked to the Sheriff’s office as though to make idle conversation.

 

Roy Coffee gave the man a brief greeting of hello as Nelson walked into his office.  He could see the man looking back and forth and all around as though somebody might be watching him.

 

“Can I help you there, fella?” Roy asked.   It was now that Nelson walked over to the middle-aged Sheriff and whispered into his ear that he needed to talk to him in private.

 

Nelson had been diligent enough to close the door to Roy’s jailhouse behind him as he walked in, and now he made sure that the door was locked.  He pulled out the folded letter from Ben Cartwright and gave it to the Sheriff to read.

 

Nelson remained silent as the Sheriff read the contents of the letter.  He,  too, grew more concerned the further down the page he read.   He found his throat constricting with emotion at the thought of Little Joe being held by people willing to hurt him.  

 

Joe had been coming in and out of his jailhouse since the man could remember.  The boy had been about six years old when he used to say a cheerful hello to the lawman.  Nowadays the visits were less frequent, but that didn’t stop Roy’s warm feelings towards the handsome young boy.  He had read the lines from Ben about him not going out to the Ponderosa. 

 

Roy knew why he must stay in town and put up a front, but it struck at everything that made him become a lawman and at his very own soul to know that people he cared deeply about were being threatened or hurt and he couldn’t lift a finger to do anything about it.    He told himself that he would keep an eye on every drifter and stranger in the town over the next day or so, just in case he could find out some information about Little Joe’s whereabouts.  

 

After that, he couldn’t promise himself that he wouldn’t go out to the Ponderosa and start a search party or posse.   For the moment, he would abide by his friend’s request and just keep his eyes open.

 

Back at the Ponderosa, Adam and Hoss were buckling on their gun belts and getting their horses ready to ride out and try and find some evidence that might lead them to their little brother.  Ben had argued about him going out as well until Adam had reminded him about all of them being watched.

 

Adam proposed that if just he and Hoss went out and then split up, at least Ben would be at home if any further notes came from the kidnappers or if they actually let Little Joe go.   Hopefully the man who had been following Adam had seen the transaction between him and Nelson and was now well on his way to telling his kidnapper friends that the bid was withdrawn, and they would be soon making arrangements to release Little Joe, unharmed. 

 

Something in the back of his mind told him that this wasn’t something to happen anytime soon, but he needed to hold onto the belief even if it was only for a little while.

 

Ben had finally and reluctantly agreed to stay at home in case there was further news about Joe.  He watched his eldest boys ride off with an even heavier heart, and he prayed that by morning he would have all of his sons back at home safe and sound. 

 

 

 

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CHAPTER FOUR

 

 

Back at the shack, the three men inside the larger room were just beginning to stir after three hours of solid, undisturbed sleep.    Thomas was the first to wake, and he stretched his tired and stiff muscles.  He needed a strong cup of black coffee, but even that luxury would be denied him and the others until they got a fire going outside the shack.  

 

He cursed out loud at the conditions he was forced to endure and promised that he would be demanding a bonus from Williams for his discomfort when he returned to collect the rest of his money.   He had demanded half of the money before he even took on the job, but now he knew that he should have asked for at least double before agreeing to staying in run-down lodgings such as these.

 

He had even played with the idea of asking the boy’s father for ransom money in addition to the contract withdrawal.   With the information he had been given about how much the Cartwright family was actually worth, the father would be surely glad to part with a few measly thousand dollars in return for his youngest son.   It wasn’t as if he didn’t have the money.  

 

Thomas could kill two birds with the same stone, collect his money and the proposed bonus from Williams, and also gain a few thousand extra from the boy’s father, unbeknown to his boss.   Williams didn’t have to know every detail of the boy’s return, Thomas told himself.   If he decided the boy was worth a little bit extra, then that was his business.

 

Thomas got up and went outside to start the fire needed for that cup of coffee.  He grumbled the entire way and ended up shouting at his two colleagues to get their lousy carcasses out of bed and earn their keep.

 

Inside the second room, Little Joe had been dragged from his deep sleep by Thomas’s shouting at the other two men.    At first he couldn’t work out why he could hear raised voices.  Maybe Pa and Adam were having one of their arguments downstairs.  

 

Then, all at once, the truth struck him full force as he tried to open he eyes and couldn’t.   The pain from his bound wrists and ankles had crept up him slowly at first and had been nothing more noticeable than dull aches when he was first brought to  the shack.

 

Joe felt the fear in him start to rise as he realised that the reason he couldn’t see was a blindfold was tied tightly over his eyes.  And the reason for the now stinging sensation in his wrists and the numbness in his ankles was the strong rope that bound him hand and foot.

 

Joe tried to force back the tears that started rolling down his face at his captivity.  He didn’t know where he was.   He could only remember the face of the man who had placed the ether-soaked cloth over his face when he was dragged off the road.  He could remember the man and his friends laughing at his plight as he desperately

struggled to get free of his assailants. 

 

After that he remembered nothing.   He felt a hard floor underneath him, and the coldness of the floor had begun to seep into his bones, making them ache even more.   But he didn’t know where the floor was or what it belonged to.   He had no idea if his family knew he had been taken or even how far away they might be or if they would even be able to rescue him.  

 

The thoughts of his helplessness just seemed to overwhelm him even more, and he fell into a deep state of depression at his situation.   Something about the man who had drugged him told Joe that no matter what promises the man made, he doubted that the man meant to return him to his family unharmed as he had said.

 

Joe was trying to get his bearings, but the blindfold over his eyes made him even more disorientated.   He started to rub his face back on forth on the hard dirt floor in an attempt to remove the blindfold.  

 

After what seemed like hours, Joe managed to push the material up further on his forehead, but he also rewarded himself with a number of scratches to his cheek and temple area due to the rubbing action on the dirt floor.

 

The cuts weren’t serious, but Joe could feel the small amount of blood running down his face and mixing with his tears.  The perspiration on his face made the scratches sting a little.

 

With the blindfold now displaced enough for him to see inside the room, Joe’s elation at being able to see was quickly dashed by the dim and barely lit room that he found himself in. 

 

The room was almost totally dark, just like it had been with his blindfold on.   Joe’s attention was quickly diverted to the doorway by the sound of the door opening and a narrow beam of light coming into the room.

 

The thing that made Joe almost jump out of his skin was the voice of the man that stood in the doorway and was now talking to him.   

 

“Glad to see your finally awake, kid,” Thomas said.   “Think its time to get you out here and explain a few things to you,” he added and roughly grabbed Joe by one arm and started dragging him towards the doorway into the other room.  

 

Joe tried to stand up to avoid the man’s actions from hurting him any further, but he couldn’t quite get his stance before feeling himself being dragged across the hard floor.    He just hoped that his pants were made out of tough enough material to hold up to the dragging action.  He dreaded to think about what the dragging might do if the skin on his upper legs was to come into contact with the hard ground and receive the same treatment.

 

Joe now found himself being thrown into one of the rickety chairs in the larger room.   He closed his eyes briefly as the light from a few lanterns shone into his eyes.    He opened them slowly and cautiously, allowing them to adjust to the harsh light.  

 

The boy was worried that he might be restrained to the chair, but for the time being it seemed that his captors were happy enough with his hands and ankles bound in front of him.   Joe looked around the room and knew that he needed to take in each and every inch of the room in order to put together an escape plan.

 

Thomas watched Joe for a few seconds and saw the boy’s gaze dart around the room trying to work out where he was.   He laughed heartily at first, but then delivered a hard slap to the boy’s face

 

“Don’t even think about trying to escape kid or you will regret it,” Thomas said only an inch from the boy’s face.

 

He could see the fright in the boy’s eyes and was pleased that his mere presence was enough to terrorise the boy into obedience.  “That’s right, boy.  You had better be afraid.    Be very afraid.  I am going to be your worst nightmare for the next twenty- four hours.   You only have to breath wrong and I will make you pay for your

disobedience.  Do you understand me, boy?” he snarled at Joe again.

 

Joe couldn’t find the words to speak as the tears ran down his face.   He simply nodded as he looked up at the man.

 

“What do you want with me?” Joe finally got the courage to ask.   His question was rewarded with a blow to his stomach that caused him to double over and almost pass out.  He struggled to get his breath back.

 

“I’ll ask the questions, boy.   You will not speak unless I give permission.  Is that understood?” Thomas said, as he yanked Joe’s head up by his curly hair.

 

“Yes,” Joe got out between sobs and was again given a blow to the stomach that threatened to spill him to the floor.  It was only the fact that Thomas was literally holding him upright in the chair that prevented this.

 

“You’re a slow learner, boy.  I told you not to talk until I gave you permission” Thomas repeated.  “You do as you are told and nothing else, boy.  What we want you for is not really your concern right now.   You just be a good boy and when your Pa does what I tell him, then maybe and only maybe, you’ll get to go back to him.  But if you try to escape or don’t do as you are told, then I can promise you a lot of pain and misery.”

 

Although Joe was scared of the man towering over him, it was the laughter from the man’s two friends that started to rile the infamous Joe Cartwright temper.   He wanted to know why he was being treated so harshly and unjustly.  He could feel the anger swelling beneath his skin.  He wanted to break free from his bounds and make a run for it.  Maybe, if he could just get a good head start, he could make it on foot.  He was known as a good runner at school.    He didn’t know how reliable his feet would be after being bound up for so long but they were his only asset to this point.

 

Thomas had his face turned away briefly from Joe as he joined in the laughter of his two friends at the captive in the chair.  Both of the other two men knew better than to take on Butch Thomas.   The man had earned himself a reputation, and they knew that crossing him would cause them to have a bullet with their names on it.  They had

been promised a large pay packet at the end of this little job.  All they had to do was to watch the kid for a couple of days until his father did what Thomas wanted him to do.  Then it would be all over and they could go about their business.

 

Thomas failed to see the tears dry up from Joe’s face and see anger quickly replace them.  The boy didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, but he figured that if he could just make it to the front door, he could make everything else up along the way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With Thomas’s face turned in the opposite direction, Joe saw his first opportunity to put his plan into action.   Joe silently brought his bound feet up as high as his bounds would allow and then, without warning, he unleashed his bound feet into the crotch of the man in front of him.   The trick actually worked and Joe was stunned into shock

for a brief second as he saw his captive almost double over at the pain to his groin area.   Joe quickly shook himself out of his trance and desperately tried to make it to the door and escape outside.   

 

Thomas had roared at the other two men to stop Joe’s escape while he stood with his hands protectively over his assets and waited for the pain to subside so that he could think straight.    Joe had almost made it to the door with a hopping motion when he felt himself being yanked roughly backwards by the two men in pursuit.   He tried

desperately to gain a hold on the handle of the door and hopefully turn it to allow his escape.  However, his attempts were in vain.   The fact that his hands were bound together made the gasping even harder, and he missed more than twice before being reefed backwards.  

 

Joe was thrown hard against the chair again, and he felt a couple of good swift kicks to his unprotected ribs for his troubles.   He moaned out loud at the pain that erupted through his entire chest as the boots came into contact.   The pain brought fresh tears to his eyes, and it was only now, as he looked back at Butch Thomas, that he became

truly afraid.  The man’s face had changed from one of sneering and mockery, when he was bullying Joe, to one of utter rage and colourless anger.   The man was beyond anger.  The other two men in the room feared that Thomas would kill the boy right there, and then and it would be all over before they could get their hands on any

money from the boy’s family.

 

Thomas picked the struggling boy up by the scruff of his shirt and held him at about an arm’s length from his own body.    Thomas pulled back his arm so that Joe could see what he intended to do.   Then, without warning and without any concern for the boy’s age, he let go his hardest punch into the boy’s stomach.   The boy doubled

over and thought that he would be sick.   He had barely time to raise his eyes and look back at Thomas when he felt the blows start to rain down on him.  They not only connected with his stomach this time but also with his ribs, chest and arms and anywhere Thomas could reach without letting him go.   After a few minutes it became obvious that the boy was unconscious due to the severity and frequency of the blows.

 

 

 

Thomas let the boy go, and Joe slumped unconscious in the chair, blood coming from a number of fresh cuts on his chest and arms.  There were already bruises starting to form from the man’s punches. 

 

Thomas looked down at the kid.  When the boy had kicked him, he had had a hard time trying to comprehend the boy’s bold moves.  He had thought he had scared the kid enough for him to be afraid.   Obviously his previous warnings hadn’t been enough.  Thomas assured himself and his young captive that the next time the kid was awake, he would truly come to fear him.

 

“Leave him where he is, but I want to know the minute he starts to come awake,” Thomas warned as he walked outside and tried to attend to his own pains.   He started to think of a way that would scare the kid next time he was awake.

 

***********************************************************

 

Little Joe took over an hour to awake from his unconscious state.    The longer he had to wait, the more impatient Thomas became.  He had tried to hasten the boy’s stirring by a few light kicks to the boy’s shins, but still the boy remained unconscious.

 

During this hour Thomas had devised himself a fear campaign that would ensure that the boy would truly know the meaning of the word “fear”.  

 

Little Joe came back to the world very slowly.    His first awareness was pain.   Every inch of him where he had been beaten by Thomas and his men seemed to ache.   Joe let out a few moans as he tried to move.  It was these  pitiful moans that alerted Thomas’s men to the boy’s coming to.

 

“Boss, I think he’s coming awake,” Frank Richards shouted outside as they continued to watch the kid struggle to move and heard him whimper with an occasional groan of pain.

 

Thomas walked into the room with loud and determined footsteps.  Without even bothering to check and see if the kid was indeed awake, he lifted Joe up by the front of his shirt and dumped him once again harshly into the chair from earlier.

 

Joe forced himself to open his eyes to see his assailant.   He immediately regretted it as he came face to face with the angry Butch Thomas.  He recoiled a little and tried to push himself further back into the chair as if trying to get out of the man’s reach.

 

“So you think you’re pretty clever, don’t you, kid?” Thomas spat at him.   “Well, I am going to make you regret the day you ever met me.    I don’t take nicely to anyone making fun of me.   I guess you need to learn a few lessons the hard way, boy.”

 

“Start making that noose, Danny,” Thomas said to the younger kidnapper in the room.  The young blond man scrambled into one of his saddlebags and pulled out a length of coarse rope and began fashioning a hangman’s loop on one end of it.  He made sure that he held it out in full view for the kid to see, just to scare him that little bit more.

 

Thomas looked at Joe watching the loop and could see the fear rising within the young man at what might happen.   He smiled to himself as he knew that he was gradually winning the upper hand.   “You think you’re afraid now, kid,” Thomas said, as he shook the kid roughly in the chair. 

 

He pulled the kid closer just to emphasize his next sentence.  “Trust me, you haven’t even begun to know what ‘afraid’ is yet, boy.    I want you to fear me more than any other man you have ever come across.  I want to become so much a part of your fear that you have nightmares about me when you sleep.   I want you to see my face when you’re awake in the middle of the night, screaming.   I will become such a part of your fear that after a while you won’t know the difference between what’s real and what’s not any more.”

 

Joe tried to divert his eyes from the man’s face as he spoke to him, but something prevented it.  The man’s words instilled fear that was so overwhelming.  He tried to struggle within the man’s grasp to get away, but he only succeeded  in receiving a few more forceful slaps to his face. 

 

Joe could no longer hide the tears that welled up in his eyes.   He just wanted to go home.  He wanted this all to be a bad dream and wake up soon in the safety of his own home, with his father’s arms wrapped securely around him and keeping him safe.    Another slap to his face alerted him to the fact that this was actually a bad dream, but a real one that he was living through every minute of.

 

“Its ready, Boss,” Danny Griffiths said, as he held up his handiwork for Thomas to approve. 

 

Joe could see that Griffiths had turned the coarse length of rope into a cruel-looking noose.  The hairs on the back of his neck began to rise at the thoughts of what may lay in store for him at the hands of this brutal man named Butch Thomas.

 

“Now, boy, we see if we can’t knock some of that fight out of you,”  Thomas said, as he now reached down towards Joe again and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

 

Thomas now used his grip on Joe’s shirt to lift the struggling boy out of his chair into a standing position.   Joe tried to get his shirt free from the iron grip, but he didn’t have much of a chance with his ankles still lashed  together and his wrists tied together in front of him.

 

Joe had thought for some reason that Thomas intended to dish out a few more of the painful blows that he had incurred earlier, but his blood almost stopped frozen in his veins as he watched Danny throw the noose over the large supporting beam overhead.   The noose was now suspended over the beam from a long length of similar rope and was now just about Joe’s head.

 

Thomas now jerked the boy higher up again so that he was forced to stand on the seat of the chair.    He gave a few short slaps to the boy, as he continued to struggle and try and get away from the man.   Thomas held Little Joe with one hand and now snaked out with his other hand and grabbed a hold of the noose.    Joe knew what was coming and tried to shake his head back and forth to prevent the noose from being placed over his head, but Thomas let go of Joe’s shirt and proceeded to hold the boy’s head still by grasping a handful of his curly hair.  Once the rope was over his head, Thomas tightened the knot so that it rested painfully against the base of Joe’s slender young neck.

 

“NO, you can’t do this, please,……..,” Joe said, as he tried to plea for his life.  

 

“Oh, but I can, boy,” Thomas laughed as he noted the fear leeching out of every pore in the boy’s skin.  “What’s more, there will be no witnesses to even say who done it,” he added and then nodded his head towards Danny.

 

Danny now secured the end of the rope around another, smaller beam that made up one of the walls of the small shack.   As he tightened the rope, he could see the boy try and move his head in an attempt to release the choking loop from around his neck.   The boy was almost standing on tippee toes to avoid falling from the chair and hanging himself right then.

 

“Please, just let me go,” Joe said again in a pitiful-sounding voice as he fought to keep his emotions under control in front of such hardened criminals.  He knew now that Thomas was the sort of man that wouldn’t even bat an eyelid at killing of a boy his age.  

 

“Not sounding so tough now, are you?” Thomas spat at the boy.  He now moved away from the chair and went and stood towards the front door of the shack.   Danny and the other man now stood a little to the right of their boss against the front wall of the house.

 

“Now, boys, time for some shooting practice for the both of you,” Thomas announced, making sure that his young captive heard every word of this conversation.   “You can practice on the legs of that chair there,” he said, as he pointed to the chair that Joe was standing precariously on.

 

Joe could no longer hold back the tears that ran down openly over his cheeks at the thought of how unjustly he was being treated.  He had every reason to suspect that these men were about to cause him to fall from the chair, and then, depending on how well the noose was tied, he would die quick when the rope became taut and snapped his neck like a chicken bone.  If he was unlucky, and the rope wasn’t so tight, he would hang from the beam and the rope and slowly suffocate as the rope cut into his throat, cutting off his air supply.

 

Joe watched as the three men in the room drew their guns from their holsters.   All three of them made sure that the boy looked on as they pretended to check their weapons over for a few seconds before firing them.  All the waiting just made the injustice even more harder to bear and caused the fear inside Joe to grow infinitely.

 

“I’ll take the first shot,” Thomas said to everyone in the room, and then pointed the barrel of his gun at the front left leg of the wooden chair.    The sound of the gunshot in the room was deafening, as Thomas fired, and the three men watched with satisfaction as the wooden leg was splintered into a dozen pieces from the force of the bullet.

 

Joe was unable to see the bullet strike the chair leg, but he felt the chair become unstable and therefore had to adjust his standing position on the chair towards the back to stop the chair from toppling from the front towards the floor. He knew that he had to remain as still as possible, no matter what happened, because if he moved to much either side or to the front of the chair, it would fall.

 

The three men were laughing out loud and congratulating Thomas on his accurate shooting. 

 

“Now you, boys, I want you two to do it both together,” Thomas said “Make it quick for the young fella,” he said, as they watched the trembling and sobbing boy standing on the chair.

 

By now, Joe’s legs felt like jelly, and he didn’t know how long he would be able to remain upright from his fear.   It was sheer willpower that was holding him erect at this very moment and preventing his own demise.

 

Danny Griffiths and Robert Pierce now aimed their guns at the rear legs of the chair.   Even a bad shot would result in the chair collapsing from underneath its helpless young victim.   Once they were both set to fire, they looked back at Thomas and awaited his approval.

 

Thomas had not raised his gun again, nor put it back in the holster at his side.  He left it loose in his right hand and nodded to the others to fire at will.  He had a different idea up his sleeve about what was to happen.

 

Griffiths and Pierce both fired their weapons, and Joe felt the chair fall out from underneath him.  He could feel the rough coarse rope around his neck slowly suffocating him and restricting his airway.  Just as he thought blackness would close around him forever, he heard another gunshot coming from within the room.

 

Thomas had fired his own weapon a split second after the chair had collapsed and the noose became taut around the boy’s neck.  As the rope tightened, his bullet sliced through it just above Joe’s head.   Joe now found himself falling for a brief moment.  He never felt his body hit the hard ground due to fainting from the lack of air.

 

Joe’s body hit the ground with a soft thud, and the three men now gathered around the prone form lying unconscious on the floor at their feet.

 

“What do you want us to do with him now, Boss?” Pierce inquired.

 

“Haul him over to the corner of the room until he comes to.  Next time he’s awake I got a different game in mind,” Thomas said with an evil grin.

 

“In the meantime, I want you, Danny, to go into Virginia City and check out that Cartwright has done what he was told and withdrawn his bid from that contract,” Thomas now said.  “Make sure you don’t give yourself away,” he warned finally.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Danny Griffiths nodded his head at Thomas’s words to indicate that he knew what was expected of him.  He went over towards his bed and grabbed the saddlebags he had stolen from Joe’s horse and walked out the door towards his horse.   He thanked himself lucky that he wasn’t going to be around to witness whatever Thomas had in mind next time for the kid.  

 

He knew better than to say anything and cross Thomas in the process, but something about what Thomas was doing to the kid’s mind just didn’t quite sit well with him.   He wasn’t a law-abiding man himself, but going out of one’s way to make someone’s life a misery wasn’t something he wanted  to be a part of.  Once this was all over, he promised himself that he would  go out on his own and start afresh somewhere down south of the border.

 

***********************************************************

 

Danny Griffiths made the long arduous ride into Virginia City whilst Joe was still unconscious on the floor of the old shack.  The other two men, Butch Thomas and Pierce, were now taking a catnap themselves whilst they waited for their young captive to awaken.  

 

As Danny rode into town, the words from his boss about keeping a low profile echoed in his mind, and he kept looking around, just to make sure that nobody was taking particular notice of him. 

 

For the next hour or so he spent his time sculling a few ales at the Bucket O’ Blood saloon.   He told himself that he needed to think up a story so that he could ask about the lumber contract.  He needed to find out whether or not Cartwright had taken heed of his youngest son’s abduction and withdrawn his bid as told.  

 

After three or four beers he had enough alcohol in him to give him a false sense of confidence in asking about the contract.  He started riding down the street on his way to the General Store and the small office behind it.    

 

About halfway down the street he spotted a local second-hand shop, which had a sign out front offering to pay good money for second-hand goods.   He looked down at his horse and spotted the saddlebags he had taken from Joe hours ago.   He really didn’t trust Thomas into getting his fair share for the kid’s return, so he told himself that if he was able to hock the saddlebags and make a few extra dollars on the side for himself, Thomas would be none the wiser.

 

 

 

He tied his horse to the hitching rail outside the store and grabbed the saddlebags from his horse before walking into the store.   Upon walking inside and allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkened room, he spotted an older man on the other side of the shop counter.    He went over to the man and dumped the saddlebags down on the wooden counter with a loud thud.

 

Roy Coffee, the Sheriff of Virginia City was out and about on one of his routine walks around the town, just making sure that everything was in order.  Truth be known, this day the subject that was most on his mind was the abduction of Little Joe Cartwright.  So far they had not been able to do anything about searching for the boy due to the threats made on the boy’s life if the law was involved.   Sheriff Coffee was also refraining from visiting his long-time friend Ben at the Ponderosa as an added precaution.  He was hoping that the walk around town today would clear his mind a little and help him come up with an idea to help.

 

Roy was just about to walk past the door of the second-hand store when he heard a lot of shouting coming from inside.   He put his thoughts about the Cartwrights aside for a moment and went to see what all the yelling was about.

 

“How do I know that these belong to you?” the old man, Mr Perkins, said from behind the counter.  “You could have gotten them from anywhere.”

 

“What has it got to do whether or not they belong to me?” Griffiths now shouted back without seeing the Sheriff enter the store.   “All you gotta decide is what you’re gonna give me for them.   These here a fine quality.   Not many others around like them.”

 

“That’s what makes me question the ownership of them,” Perkins retorted after seeing the Sheriff standing there.  “That’s a fair question, don’t you think, Sheriff?” the old man now added as he indicated the lawman standing in the room, listening to the heated conversation.

 

Griffiths turned around at the mention of the word “sheriff” and could scarcely hide his sudden nervousness towards the new person in the room.   “Hi, Sheriff,” he said, as casually as possible whilst rubbing his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt in an attempt to hide his true intentions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Howdy, friend, Mr Perkins,” Roy said greeting each of them.  It was now that Roy quickly glanced at the saddlebags that the man was trying to sell.    It was now Roy’s turn to try and hide his gasp of shock.    He had seen those particular saddlebags a number of times before.   The fact that they had “JFC” carved into the right hand corner also gave away who they really belonged to.   Somehow, Roy knew that this man might be just the missing link they were looking for to find Little Joe.

 

Danny Griffiths was now just plain scared that he was going to be found out.  The Sheriff hadn’t indicated that he had any knowledge of the boy’s kidnapping, but that didn’t stop Danny from thinking the worst straight away.  Suddenly he found himself leaving unmistakable tracks without even realising it.  He could almost feel the walls closing in around him with the claustaphobic-like feeling that he was experiencing.  

 

“Listen, you gonna buy these bags or not?” Griffiths now said through gnashed teeth as he attempted to grab the old man by the front of his shirt.   He was panicking and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. 

 

“That’s about enough,” Roy said, now grabbing a hold of Griffiths.   This attempt to assault the old man gave him enough cause to hold the man until he could figure out how to find out what he knew about Little Joe.

 

“You want to press charges against this here fellow, Mr Perkins?” Roy asked the elderly shop keeper.

 

“You bet, Sheriff.  I’m not having some ruffian walk in off the street and threaten me in my own place.  You just let me know when, and I will come and made a full statement,” Perkins said.   Secretly, inside, he was just glad to get out of the heated situation.   Had things gotten out of control without the Sheriff to step in, anything could have happened.

 

“I’m placing you under arrest for attempted assault and battery,” Roy said with his best official-sounding voice.

 

“You can’t do that,” Griffiths now spluttered as he attempted to remove Roy’s grip from his arm “This is just something you and this old geezer here cooked up.  You got nothin on me, Sheriff, and you know it” 

 

“We’ll just let you sober up a little first, and then decide the facts of the matter,” Roy said, as he detected the smell of alcohol on the man’s breath.    “You gonna come quietly or do I have to force you?”

 

 

 

 

“You got nothing on me, I said,” Griffiths repeated harshly.

 

“Let’s go,” Roy said, as he threw the saddlebags over his shoulder and now pulled his pistol from its holster and used it as a gentle persuader.  “Start moving.”

 

Griffiths reluctantly started walking towards the door, still pleading his innocence and unjust treatment.   He somehow needed to persuade the Sheriff that it was all a mistake and convince him to let him go so that he could get back to the shack before Thomas heard about his unfortunate run-in with the law.

 

Roy kept his gun pointed at Griffiths while they both made the short walk to the jailhouse.  Once inside, Danny was pushed into an empty cell and the door was locked behind him. 

 

“Now you just sit tight and sober up for a while,” Roy said  “I’ll be back to talk to you later about Mr Perkins,” he added.    In actual fact, Roy thought that he needed to get to the Ponderosa as quick as possible.   “My deputy will be back in a few minutes to keep an eye on you,” Sheriff Coffee warned Griffiths as he walked back out the front door towards his horse. 

 

Roy saddled his horse as quickly as possible, trying not to hurry too much.  He knew that he might have some valuable information about Little Joe sitting in his jail cell, but he needed to keep a cool head about this and take things easy until they had a little more to go on.

 

Roy mounted his horse and guided him down the street in the direction of the Ponderosa.  He knew that he was taking an awful risk if this man didn’t have any connection with Joe’s abduction.   As he rode, he tried to think of a plan to try and get the man to give himself away without even knowing it.

 

***********************************************************

 

The next time Little Joe started to come to, he was confused.   He had thought that he would be dead now.   If he was dead, why was he feeling so much pain in his arms and legs from the restraints that had been in place for so long?  The circulation in his limbs had been constricted now for over 24 hours and they were becoming numb from the constant ache.  

 

 

 

 

Finally, as he started to gather his thought, he realised that he must not have died like he had thought when he felt the chair go from underneath his feet.   The last feeling he had had was the tautness of the rope around his neck cutting of his oxygen so that he was gasping for breath to feed his starving lungs.   Now, as he coughed, he felt the harshness of his throat as a result of the rope as it had cut into his neck.    He tried to put his other thoughts together as in his mind he watched Griffiths and Pierce point their weapons at the chair he was standing on and casually fire at the legs.

 

He didn’t have to long to think about what had just happened, though as the pain in his limbs caused him to moan out loud.   Joe heard footsteps approach him and he tried to feign unconsciousness once again to avoid whatever punishment awaited him when he awoke. 

 

His feeble attempted failed, though, as he felt his hurting body hurled into an upright position again, and he came face to face with his tormentor, Butch Thomas.

 

“I guess we’ll just have to try something a little different this time, huh, kid?” Thomas said, as he blew a plume of cigar smoke into Little Joe’s face, causing the boy to cough.   His lungs and throat had already begun to burn, and the smoke seemed to irritate them even more.

 

“Why don’t you just kill me?” Joe croaked out through his sore throat and burning lungs.  His head hung limp on top of his shoulder as his neck muscles no longer had the strength to hold it up.    

 

“That would be no fun at all, kid,” Thomas said with a laugh as he heard the boy’s weak pleas.  “Besides, I got a new game for you to play.  This time you have a five to one chance,” he said with a sarcastic grin to match his words.

 

Thomas hauled Joe over towards a second rickety chair in the room.  The other still lay in pieces in one of the corners of the room as a reminder of how close Joe had come to death last time.   Joe didn’t have the strength or even the courage to put up any sort of struggle this time.  He allowed himself to be forcibly moved wherever his captors wanted.

 

Pierce stood back against the wall as before, not wanting to get involved with this particular game at all.  There was something evil and sinister about this that made his blood run cold at the very thought of the outcome.  In fact, he wanted very little part of this game. 

 

 

 

Joe was now sitting in the chair with no real interest in what was about to happen to him.   He just wanted these men to leave him the hell alone.    The tears welled up in his eyes again, and he inwardly scolded himself for being such a big baby in front of Thomas and Pierce again.

 

He heard Thomas pull his pistol from his holster again and thought that the man might actually take his words and shoot him right now.   The next sound puzzled him, though, as he heard Thomas first spin the barrel of the weapon and then one by one allow the bullets to fall from each individual chamber to the hard floor.   They all landed with a metal sounding click at they hit the floor, and Joe’s mind counted every single one of them as they fell:    One . . . Two . . . Three . . . Four . . . Five . . .

a little bit of a pause and a bit more of a shake from Thomas’s hand  Six.  Six bullets had fallen out from the chamber.   

 

Little Joe now looked up at the man and wondered why he had emptied the chambers if he meant to use the gun to kill him.  It didn’t make sense at the moment.    

 

Thomas could see the questions written all over Joe’s face, so he made sure that the boy could clearly see his next few hand movements. 

 

Thomas now pulled the last remaining chairs in the room to within two feet from Little Joe.   He sat down first and then bent down slightly, just enough so that he could reach the floor where the scattered bullets now lay.  He carefully picked up one of the bullets.  He dusted it of with his shirt, and then, ever so slowly, pushed it back into one of the chambers of his empty pistol.     Once the bullet was in place, he reset the weapon and began spinning the barrel at random intervals.

 

It was only now, upon seeing the lone bullet loaded into the gun that Joe realised that Thomas meant to play a crude game of Russian roulette.  He had never seen the game played before, but he basically knew how the game worked.  He had heard stories from the ranch hands about such a game being held in the back streets of some of the larger cities where people were bought cheap and life meant nothing.

 

Thomas looked up with a gleam in his eyes.  He could see that the boy had the general jist of what the game was all about.    “Like I said, kid, you have a five to one chance,” he started to explain to the tense boy in front of him.

 

“I’ll spin the barrel first and fire.  If the chamber is empty, you live.   If not, then we won’t have to worry about you having a turn then, will we.  If you live, then you’ll get to spin the chamber once.  And so on and so forth until your luck decides to win out.”

 

“Shall we get started?” Thomas asked his captive.

 

“Do I have a choice?” Joe accused him with some of his anger from earlier returning.

 

“I’m afraid not,” Thomas said.  Joe had no time to give a smart reply as he felt the barrel of the weapon forced roughly against his left temple.  He could feel the cold hard steel against his skin.  It was almost as if the throb in his temple matched the beating of his heart.  He had all sorts of thoughts coming at him at once.    It was almost getting too loud to think.   When Joe heard the spin of the barrel, though, all thoughts seemed to instantly disappear.   He swallowed hard despite his raw throat as he realised that his life could be ending right hear and now.

 

Thomas put his hand on the trigger, but he wanted his victim to sweat just that little bit more.  Every movement he made was as slow as he could make it.   He wanted the whole process drawn out for as long as possible.   As the barrel spun, Joe’s mind was trying to hear if the chambers were hollow or not as they went past.   He thought that he had counted four empty ones, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure.

 

Thomas started to squeeze the trigger ever so gently with his index finger.   Joe was trying to look sideways to see the gun, but his vision wouldn’t quite allow for that angle.    He felt his pulse become more rapid, and his palms became more sweaty with each passing second.

 

“Say your prayers, kid,” Thomas said “This might be the last time you take a breath,” he said, as he pushed the barrel of the gun harder against Joe’s temple.

 

Joe didn’t know how much time had passed from Thomas finally managed to fully squeeze the trigger.  He did know, however, that for that fleeting minute, his own heart beat actually stopped from the fear that ran through him like a raging river.  Joe was waiting for that final rushing sound that would indicate that Thomas’s spin had been wrong.

 

“Click,” the weapon said, as the chamber came up hollow.    There had been no bullet this time.

 

Thomas smiled as he heard the sound and watched the boy’s face turn from one of absolute terror to one of deathly white.  The boy looked as though he was ready to pass out any second. The kid had won this time, but Thomas had a plan up his sleeve for the next round.  

 

“I guess you lucked out this time, kid,” Thomas said in a calm voice.   “Let’s see if it is as good this time.  I want you to spin the barrel this time.”

 

Joe was almost too busy getting his lungs breathing again after the last attempt to heed the man’s words.  It wasn’t until he felt the barrel of the gun being painfully forced against his head that he heard Thomas’s threats to spin the barrel himself this time.

 

Joe didn’t want to do this, but he knew he had very little choice.  He reached up to the gun with his hands still tied together.  Even that effort was painful as his tired muscles protested at the movement.

 

With a shaking hand, his fingertips only just touched the barrel of Thomas’s gun.   The first attempt they missed making the barrel spin.    Thomas now barked a second and final warning at Joe, and the boy once again painfully reached up to the barrel of the gun.  At least this time he was able to get the barrel to spin some.  It wasn’t a very determined effort, and he didn’t have much faith that he had avoided his own execution.

 

Joe closed his eyes this time as he hands fell back limply into his lap and he waited for Thomas to put him out of his misery and squeeze the trigger again.  He knew that he lacked the courage and strength to pull the trigger himself, no matter what threats Thomas made to him.

 

Joe could feel the wetness of his own tears as they slid down his face once more.   He was hurting and tired and didn’t really have any thoughts.  He tried to fill his mind with his family one last time in case this really was the last time.  He tried to see his brothers, but due to the pounding in his head their images seemed distant and far away in his mind.   He desperately tried to see his father’s face one last time. 

 

He didn’t know if he would have the chance to say goodbye in real life, so he had to try and say it now.    But his father’s image although closer seemed little more than a shadow to him at the moment.    

 

He saw a stronger image in his mind, but that scared him even more into thinking these maybe were his last few minutes on this earth.  He could make out the image of his mother, Marie.  She was very close to him, and she was whispering soft encouraging words to him.  Maybe this was the way it was meant to be.   Maybe she was here to take him away from all of this torment and pain.

 

 

 

Butch Thomas could see that Joe had his eyes closed at the moment.  He took this opportunity to put his alternative idea into place.   He really had no real need to keep the kid alive, but he would have to wait until he got the word from Danny about the lumber contract.  When Griffiths got back, they could depart the dismal run-down shack and do away with the kid then.  For now, his only real intentions were to scare the boy.

 

Thomas motioned for Pierce to give him his gun.   Pierce walked over silently and handed the gun to him, wondering what Thomas intended to do with it.  Thomas now had two weapons in his hands.  One was still seemingly playing the game and was pressed firmly against the boy’s left temple.  The other one he put in his left hand and brought back over his shoulder behind the boy’s head.

 

Thomas once again took his time squeezing the trigger, but this time he stopped just at the last minute before the chamber clicked into place.   The boy seemed to be dreaming and lost in his own misery long enough not to notice what was going on around him.   As the chamber locked into place, Thomas brought the butt of the second weapon down onto the back of Little Joe’s unprotected head.    

 

Joe wasn’t sure what he heard, but there was a bright flash of light in his head and then a deafening sound that seemed to be getting louder and louder.   It was only a second later that he fell unconscious in the chair from the blow.  There was a small laceration to the back of his head with some bleeding, but not enough to get overly concerned about.

 

Pierce inwardly sighed in relief as he saw his boss strike the boy unconscious rather than shoot him.    “You sure had him fooled, Boss,” he said with a false grin.  “What you gonna do with him now?” he asked.

 

“Nothing for now.   Wait for that fool Griffiths to get back from Virginia City, and then we get the boy’s daddy to deliver a few extra dollars nearby and then scoot before anybody suspects a thing.” Thomas explained.   “Throw him in that backroom for a while and be sure to put a cup of water in there for when he wakes up later.  We don’t want the kid dying on us before we get our hands on the money.”

 

Pierce did as he was told and unceremoniously threw Little Joe’s limp body over his broad shoulders like a sack of grain.   He was a little bit more gentle when laying the kid down in the room out of the sight of Thomas.   He went back into the main living room and found an unused tin cup. 

 

 

He filled the cup from one of the canteens nearby and set it down beside the unconscious youth and then locked the door behind him.   The kid would be caught before he could make any escape out the door.  And the shape the kid was in right now, it didn’t look as though he would be moving about in a hurry, anyway.

 

Thomas and Pierce didn’t expect Griffiths to get back from Virginia City much before morning, so they both decided to roll themselves up in their bedrolls and get some sleep.  There wasn’t much else to do around there.

 

***********************************************************

 

Back at the Ponderosa, Sheriff Roy Coffee was hitching his horse to the railing outside the house.   He walked up to the front door and knocked.  His thoughts were on what the family what might think when they saw him.

 

Inside, Ben and his boys were all sitting down in the living room trying to think of somewhere else to search for the missing Cartwright.  Adam and Hoss had taken off in opposite directions earlier this morning, but had come back without any clues.  The cloud of depression had started to descend upon them all.

 

Adam got up to the knock at the door.  They all wondered who could have been calling to the house so late in the day.   He opened the door, but could scarcely hold back his gasp of shock at who the visitor actually was.

 

“Sheriff Coffee,” he said aloud to warn his father and brother of who exactly was knocking at the door.   He didn’t really need to, though, as Ben had gotten up shortly after Adam, also curious as to who was at the front door.

 

“Roy, you can’t be here.  Somebody might be watching you,” Ben said in alarm as he hurriedly yanked the lawman into the house.  He had taken a brief second to look around out in the yard to see if he could see anybody watching.   He assumed, though, that if somebody was watching, they were probably well hidden out of sight.

 

After Roy had regained his balance, he was quick to dispel the fears of the three eldest Cartwrights. “Hold your horses, Ben.  You know I wouldn’t  come out here unless I had a good reason.  I know I took an awful risk with Little Joe’s life when I rode out here this evening, but I believe I have just arrested somebody who might be able to give us some information on where they are holding Joe.”

 

Ben stood back looking at Roy for a minute, trying to decide if his explanation was good enough.  “Sorry, Roy, I’m just at my wits end as to how to get Joseph back safe,” Ben now said, as his shoulders once again slumped with exhaustion from the long sleepless night and worry that had plagued them all.

 

“I know you are, Ben, I can see you are all a little worse for wear.  If you just sit down and let me explain, I think we might have the first signs of a breakthrough,” Roy said, as all of them moved to the living room to hear his story.   All of the Cartwrights as well as Roy knew that behind the kitchen door there was another silent audience member listening to everything that they said.  

 

“You better tell us, Roy, before we all burst,” Hoss said trying to put a little humour into the conversation.  Lord knows the house had been devoid of any kind of laughter or gaiety since Joe’s abduction.

 

“I was just walking down the main street of town when I heard an argument going on in Mr Perkins’s second-hand shop.   I went in and stood behind a youngish fella.  Looked like a stranger to these here parts.   Anyways, he was trying to sell some saddlebags to Mr Perkins.  Was asking a mighty high price for them, too,” Roy said, as he continued with his story.

 

Ben was getting a little impatient and wanted to know when the idea about rescuing his son was coming up.   “What’s so darn important about them saddlebags Roy, we need to find Joe,” Ben said, putting his hands to his head to ward off the headache he could feel coming on from all the stress.

 

“I’m coming to that, Ben,” Roy said calmly.  He could see that his old friend just wanted his youngest boy home again safe and sound.  “The saddlebags are important because I recognised who they belong to.   Down on the right bottom corner they had three initials carved into the leather.”  He knew, by the time he finished this part of the sentence, that he had everybody’s attention.  They all held their breath as they waited for the confirmation of their unspoken thoughts.

 

He looked at the three faces and knew that they all wanted to know the answer desperately.  “The initials were ‘J.F.C.’ he said and left it at that.  

 

“Where is this man now, Roy?” Ben demanded almost jumping out of his chair with anticipation.

 

“He’s in my jail cell at the moment, Ben,” Roy answered.

 

“Well, we will just go down there and beat him until he tells us what we want to know,” Hoss said determinedly.   He was more than ready to make this fellow talk and tell the family where his baby brother was being held against his will.

 

“No, Hoss, I think that’s exactly the opposite of what we want to do,”  Roy now said.  “Normally I wouldn’t hesitate in getting the man to speak, but if we scare him and he clams up he might never tell us where Little Joe is being held.  At the moment he is the only clue we have  to go on.”

 

“What do you propose we do then, Roy?” Adam asked, sensing that Roy had already thought of an idea before he came out to the house.

         

“If its alright with you, Ben, my idea is to go back into town and let this fella go-- “  That was all Roy could manage to get out before he was barraged by both Hoss and Ben.

 

“LET HIM GO!” they exclaimed, almost in unison with disbelief in their voices.    “How can you even think of letting him go Roy?” Hoss now shouted.

 

“Now wait just a cotton pickin’ minute, you two.  Hold on there, you two, before I leave you out of this rescue plan,” Roy said with a hint of a smirk.  He got the instant reaction he was looking for when both men stopped speaking and allowed him to explain his idea. 

 

“Like I was saying before I was interrupted,” Roy said with emphasis.

“If we let him go, then we can follow him back to the place where they are holding Joe,” he suggested.

 

“He might lead us to the rest of his gang,” Adam now said, as he worked out Roy’s plan in his own mind.  He had to admit that the idea was a pretty sharp one.   He just hoped that it worked out to their expectations.  Should anything go wrong, he feared that Joe would possibly be the one to feel the consequences.

 

“That’s my aim, Adam,” but the most important thing, of course, is that we find Little Joe and bring him home safe and sound,” Roy replied.

 

“My boys and I can be ready to ride in an hour, Roy,” Ben stated firmly.  He wanted to waste little time when he knew they could be out searching for his missing youngest son.

 

 

 

 

“I know you’re anxious to get going, Ben, but we have to give the fellow a little bit of a head start.   If we don’t, then we might make the mistake of letting him know that he is being followed.  He might not lead us to Little Joe at all after that.  I will head back into town now and let the fella go.   I will meet you and your boys outside my jailhouse at sun-up.  Hopefully, with the muddy roads, his tracks should be easy enough for Hoss to track,” Roy said, as he looked to the big man with pleading eyes. 

 

Anybody that was familiar with the Cartwright family knew that Hoss had this uncanny ability to hunt down almost anything or anybody even without much of a trail.  Roy was just hoping that the rain-soaked roads would aid in their search for the missing boy.   Heaven knew what condition the boy was being kept in.  He had been missing for two whole days now.

 

“I hope this idea of yours works, Roy,” Ben said, as the two men got up and shook hands.  Roy headed for the door.  “I truly hope so too, Ben,” he answered.

 

“See you at sunrise,” Ben added as he tried to work out in his head what they would need for the next day ahead.  Trying to put his mind to work on their supplies was the only way he could stop thinking about all of the things that might go wrong with Roy’s plan.  Everything seemed to hinge on somebody that they hadn’t even heard of or met yet.  He was putting his son’s life in the hands of a stranger, and  that didn’t sit very comfortably with him at the moment.  They had very little choice in the matter, however.

 

***********************************************************

 

Roy rode back into Virginia City to put the beginning of the risky plan into effect.  He too thought, like Ben, that everything came down to the man being currently being held in his cells to lead them to the missing boy.   He just hoped for Ben’s and Joe’s brothers’ sakes that Joe would be found safe and sound.   He couldn’t even contemplate how Ben would go on living without the one person who keep him young at heart.

 

The Sheriff tied his horse to the railing outside and walked into the jailhouse.   He could see his Deputy seated at the desk in the main part of the jailhouse.   The cells were on the other side of a closed door.   Roy took off his hat and placed it on the peg mounted on the wall for just that purpose.  He gave a curt nod to his Deputy and opened the door to the cells.

 

“How you doing, fella?” Roy asked trying to act as casually as he could.  Inside, his stomach was twisting and turning into huge knots about what he was about to do.

 

“How do you reckon I’m doing, cooped up in this God forsaken jail house of yours?” came the reply full of spite. 

 

“Well now, I was going to tell  you about a change in events that might just see you walk out of here, but if you are going to be nothing by snarly, maybe you don’t want to hear what I’ve got to say,” Roy said, trying to bluff his way through the conversation.

 

There was silence from the prisoner himself but a look of doubtfulness and confusion was written all over Danny’s face as he wondered what the Sheriff was getting at.

 

Roy thought that the silence was a signal for him to continue with his explanation.   “Seems Mr Perkins, the man from the second-hand store, has had a change of heart all of a sudden and decided not to press any charges against you.  I can’t say as I am happy about it, but there don’t seem to be much else to be holding you in here on, so for the moment you are free to go.” Roy said officially.

 

“You’re kidding, right?” Danny said, trying to work out if the Sheriff was really telling him that he was free to go.

 

“No, I’m not, but you listen here young fella, I want you saddled and on your horse in less than fifteen minutes when I set you free from this cell, or otherwise I will find something to hold you on.  You understand me?” Roy said sternly.

 

“Yes, Sheriff, I understand,” Danny said.  Roy unlocked the cell door and swung it open for the former prisoner to walk out.   “Can I have my saddlebags back, Sheriff?” Danny asked.

 

“Get out of here!” was Roy’s response to the question.  He knew that if they did manage to find Little Joe, the rightful owner of the saddlebags would indeed be looking to have them back.

 

Danny did as he was told and quickly walked from the jail cell.   He could hear Roy’s warnings to be out within the hour as he walked down the street.  Although it was now in the dead of night, the horse that he had rode into town on was still hitched outside the saloon where he had enjoyed his beers before heading down the street to the second-hand store.

 

As he walked the horse out of town, he made sure that he rode directly past the jailhouse so as to alert the Sheriff to his doing what was asked of him.   He knew that there was a long ride ahead, but he was in no particular rush.  If all went well, he should be back to the shack before lunch time.  He had six hours to try and come up with an excuse for Butch Thomas to why he was so late in getting back.  He was confident that he would find something to tell him.

 

Griffiths was aware that he was being watched as he rode out of Virginia City.  He just was unaware how long the Sheriff kept his eyes on him and noted the direction of his travel.  It would only be two hours until Ben and his boys would turn up.  Hopefully that would be enough of a head start without losing track of him altogether.

 

***********************************************************

 

Back at the abandoned shack, Little Joe was beginning to regain consciousness after the pistol incident with Butch Thomas.  At first he wondered if he was dead and if this was what happened after death.  However, the pain that echoed in his head, however, soon brought him back down to earth and reminded him of his predicament.

 

If his body had hurt before, then it now was beyond hurting.   He tried to move slowly and in small increments, but even these minor movements caused great waves of pain to swirl around in his head.   The muscles in his legs and arms had not eased any, either, but at the moment, with the agonising pain that he felt in his head, the aches from his limbs paled into insignificance.   Each time he attempted to lift his head from the floor he was greeted by the feeling that his head was about to explode.  

 

It took almost half an hour for him to gather his thoughts enough through the pain to work out where he was.   He finally assumed that he was back in the room he had been dumped in when they first arrived.  He didn’t have the gag in his mouth his time.  At least that was a plus.  There weren’t too many things to be thankful for a the moment.  

 

The room was particularly dark, another thing that would have caused shivers to him in any other situation, but for the moment he knew that if he was to survive this terrible ordeal, he would need to forget all about his fear.    

 

His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and enabled him to make out the dark shadows within the room.   He could make out that there was very little, if any, furniture in the room.   He couldn’t see any light coming into the room that would suggest the presence of a window or such.    His hands were still tied together in front of him and his feet were also bound.   

 

With a monumental effort, he managed to pull his screaming muscles and body into a sitting position.  He was light-headed from the ferocious headache and had to allow the dizziness to pass before gathering his thoughts again.   He started to pull and tug at the ropes around his ankles.   They were tied very tight and he didn’t know if he had the strength to loosen them at all.

 

The pain he was feeling from both his head and body made him want to cry out; however he made sure that each moan and groan was suppressed by his clenched teeth and between his tongue and the roof of his mouth.  He knew that he couldn’t afford to alert the men in the other room to the fact that he was conscious again.  At one point he thought he heard one of them moving around.  He had held his breath for a good half a minute or so until he thought it was safe again to continue.

 

His fingers ached from his efforts to loosen the ropes and from the rough fibres of the rope rubbed painfully against the insides of his wrists, as he desperately tried to set his feet free.   If he could only get his feet untied, he might actually stand some sort of a chance to escape.  He doubted that he would be able to get very far with them still tied together.

 

After what seemed like hours, his efforts were rewarded by the ropes loosening enough for him to be able to pull each foot through.  He removed his shoes first, and then one at a time, he slipped them through the loop made in the rope.  Once free, he put his boots back on and started to work on the ropes on his hands.  Those ropes seemed a little easier to stretch, probably from his efforts to untie his feet, he assumed.

 

He rubbed at his very raw and chafed hands.  Some of the skin had worn away in parts where the ropes had been extremely tight.   He saw a cup of water just inside the room and crawled over to it.  He drank the first mouthful to moisten his dry and parched throat.   He used the vast majority of the water on his ankles and wrists to try and put some moisture back into the raw skin.  His ankles faired the best due to the long trousers he wore.   Hopefully, they wouldn’t slow him down any if he did manage to escape.

 

Escape was his next priority.  He knew that so far his luck had held out, and he had been able to get himself free before anybody came into the room.   He didn’t want to think about what might happen to him should one of the men from the other room walk in and find him free from his bonds. 

 

 

 

He started to look at the walls of the room he was locked away in and determine what they were made of.   The shack itself, from what little he had been able to observe, seemed to have been neglected and forgotten about over a long time.   Maybe the timbers in the walls were loose or rotten enough for him to create a means of escape.

 

Joe listened carefully for any signs of the men in the other room moving about and when he was satisfied that he was safe for the time being, he moved painfully and silently over to the farthest corner of the room.    He put his hands on the timber and tried to find if any of the nails were loose or missing.   He had thought about tapping on the timber to try and find a hollow spot, but dared not risk it for fear of being heard and caught.

 

Little Joe put both hands onto the bottom of one of the planks of timber that made up the wall.  He sat in front of it with his legs spread apart to act as a counterbalance.    With a few short jerks and tugs he tried breaking off the bottom part of the timber.   He was in luck due to the heaviness of the rain over the last few weeks, as the timber was still very sodden on the outside. 

 

To his relief and amazement, the timber broke off fairly easily and without much noise.  He moved along to the next plank of wood and repeated the same process.   He was equally pleased when he obtained the same result. 

 

Due to his slimness, it only needed four of the planks to be broken off at the bottom for a hole to be made large enough for Joe to slither through.   He had to get down on his belly and he was covered with mud by the time he reached the outside, but he managed to do it.    He had never felt such relief when he felt the stillness of the night upon him.   His rejoicing was short-lived, however, as he realised that he had little time to sit down and catch his breath.  

 

He needed to make sure that he ran and ran hard.  He needed to make sure that there was enough distance between him and his kidnappers when they discovered his escape.   He knew that it was only a matter of time before they checked on him and found the hole in the wall.  

 

He had little idea of the terrain he was about to go through and he had little clues to give him any sort of bearings as to where he was.   At the moment, the sky was still dark.   There was a small amount of lightening just on the horizon, signalling that the sun would make its appearance within the next hour or so.   

 

 

 

Without much more hesitation, Joe decided to follow the direction in which the sun would rise.  He knew that that meant he would be heading in an easterly direction.   At the moment he cared very little about what direction he was headed in; only he needed to get away and get away fast.

 

Joe started walking ………………………….

 

***********************************************************

 

At the jailhouse, Sheriff Roy Coffee was just loading the last of his supplies into the saddlesbags on his horse when he heard riders approaching from behind him.  He looked around and smiled as he saw the ominous-looking figure of Ben Cartwright, mounted on his horse Buck, followed by his two, also formidable looking sons Hoss and Adam on their mounts.   Neither of them looked in the mood for idle talk.  They all had one thing in mind, finding their missing Little Joe.

 

“Mornin’ Ben, mornin’ boys,” Roy greeted them cheerfully.  He got a nodded response from Adam and Hoss and a grunt of a hello from Ben.

 

“Ready to go, Roy?” Ben asked in a no-nonsense voice

 

“Yep, just as about ready as I’ll ever be,” Roy answered.  “I let him go about two hours ago, he headed west out of town.  Should be able to start following his tracks right away,” Roy said, as he now mounted his own horse.

 

“Let’s ride,” Ben announced and headed in the direction that Roy had stated.    Hoss lead the way and picked up Danny’s easy to follow trail almost immediately.  He leant over the horse as they went, followed by Ben, Adam and Roy.   There wasn’t much conversation while they rode, and the silence echoed as they continued on the trail.

 

After about two hours or so of travelling,  Hoss stopped his horse suddenly and started to look about the landscape.  He looked as though he was trying to get his bearings, but he was actually taking in the surroundings.  He had had an idea about where they were heading about twenty minutes earlier, but it was only after a few more miles and familiar looking landmarks that he was triumphantly able to announce his discovery out loud to the rest of the search party.

 

“What’s wrong, Hoss?” Ben asked, a little worried at Hoss’s sudden halt in progress.  Maybe his large son had lost the trail, or maybe they were headed in the wrong direction.

 

“I think I know where he’s headed,” Hoss said with a smile to his father and the others. 

 

“Are you sure, Hoss?” Adam asked with a little disbelief in his voice.  He didn’t doubt his younger brother’s tracking ability, but he himself was not familiar with the area that they were in.

 

“Yeah, Adam,  I thought I had seen some of these trees a while back, but I wanted to make sure before I said anything.  I didn’t want to give anybody false hopes or nothin’,” Hoss replied.

 

“Where is he headed, Hoss?” Ben now enquired, barely able to contain the anticipation.

 

“Well, I can’t be one hundred percent certain, Pa, but I think this roads leads up to Pine Valley.  You know, the place where Joe and me went camping just last week,” Hoss said.

 

“Well, let’s keep at it then, shall we?   Don’t want to lose too much time,” Roy said, as he noted the amount of time that was between them and Danny Griffiths.  They needed to be as close to the kidnappers as possible without being detected.   If they got too far behind, the kidnappers might very well move onto a different place altogether before the search party could rescue Little Joe.

 

Hoss and the others restarted down the current trail.  There was a renewed sense of hope now that they all had some sort of idea where they were headed.   They all just secretly hoped that Little Joe would be able to hold out until they could reach him.

 

***********************************************************

 

Danny Griffiths had been riding for about three hours when Little Joe was able to make his escape from the shack and from the cruel treatment of Butch Thomas.

 

Little Joe had headed off in the direction of the sun, but had tried to remain as close to the trees as possible to avoid being seen out in the open should Thomas and Pierce try to track him down.   He had been walking for about an hour when Hoss and the others figured out where they were headed.

 

 

 

 

 

Joe had not been travelling long enough to work out where he was yet.  All the trees looked the same to him as he forced his aching body to keep at a reasonable pace.   His head was nothing short of torturous and he found himself stopping a few times just to try and let the pain decrease slightly before starting out again.  

 

He had been fortunate about half an hour ago to come across a muddy pool of water.  He had gratefully wet his mouth with the murky-looking liquid, but had refrained from drinking too much for fear of upsetting his empty stomach.   He hadn’t eaten in almost two days and didn’t know how even water would react once consumed.  He couldn’t risk feeling sick on top of all the aches and pains he was already experiencing.   Vomiting would only serve to sap what little strength he had and hold him up further from his escape.

 

Joe kept walking for the next half an hour.  Each minute saw his gait slow and become more unstable due to the weakness in his muscles.  He seemed to be just willing himself to walk without really knowing why or where he was headed.  The throbbing pain in his head made it difficult to think straight.  

 

By now the sun was up and allowed him to see the terrain in which he was walking.   He had narrowly missed causing himself a nasty injury from a large tree root.    The mud on his clothes had now dried and caked in large patches on his shirt and pants.   His hair was limp and fell in his eyes, often making him push it back with his hand so that he could see where he was going.  

 

Now, as Joe walked, he could see that he was coming upon a small stream.  What he failed to note due to his confused state of mind was that it was the same stream that he had come across only days earlier when freeing his bear cub friend from the metal trap.

 

His steps were more deliberate now, and it took all of his strength just to put one foot in front of the other.   His energy was waning quickly, and he didn’t know how long he could successfully hope to remain on his feet.    He kept telling himself that Butch Thomas was only a short distance behind him and that if he dared stop, even for a moment to catch his breath, Thomas would catch up with him and he wouldn’t be able to escape again.

 

 

 

 

 

Joe could see that the stream was running as he stepped his foot into the shallow water.  He wasn’t thinking about what the temperature might be and almost pulled his foot out in shock at the coldness that enveloped his leg as his toes touched the wet surface.   The water was cold, not freezing but cold enough to bring him back a certain level of alertness.   He knew that he didn’t have much choice in avoiding the water.  The stream continued on in both directions for some time, and he lacked the strength to try and find a drier crossing place further up or downstream.

 

The briskness of the water made Joe’s skin come out in gooseflesh, as he took another two steps across the narrow stream.   Only three or four more steps and he would be on dry land again, he told himself.

 

He wrapped his hands around his chest tightly, trying to warm his body from the effects of the cold water.  He started to take the next step forward.

 

Joe’s booted foot came in contact with what he assumed to be the earthy and rocky bottom of the stream.  He was about to lift his foot and take the next step when he felt something grabbing at his ankle.   It only took a few more seconds for the pain to erupt in his ankle and travel the entire length of his leg to his hip bone.  

 

The pain was so sudden and ferocious that Little Joe now found himself face down on the muddy bank of the stream with his feet still in the water.    He lifted his head slightly from the ground.   He tried to turn around and look behind him at the watery surface, but he had to concentrate on gritting his teeth to hold back the scream that was on his tongue.  The water around his foot was now staining crimson and mixing with the brackish water of the stream.

 

Joe gathered the last of his waning strength and tried to pull on his ankle to set it free from its entrapment.   He could feel something sharp digging into the soft flesh, but his addled mind told him that his foot must be wedged between two rocks on the bottom of the stream bed. 

 

Joe would never remember hearing his heart-wrenching scream echo through the trees when he tried to set his foot free.   Underneath the surface of the water, there was a terrible tearing of flesh, followed by more blood.  Joe Cartwright fell unconscious where he lay partly submerged in the water. 

 

A hawk, perching in the canopy of the nearby trees, now screeched in fright at Joe’s scream and took off in flight up into the sky.  It was now the only sound to be heard as the youngest Cartwright lay oblivious to the world around him.

 

Later, when he would try to recall what he had felt at that moment, Joe would only be able to remember how cold the water was.  Little did he realise at the time that it was the coldness of the water that would save his life.

 

An old forgotten trapper’s metal jawed trap had dug into Joe’s ankle without mercy.    It had lain undisturbed and rusty in its watery grave, waiting for an unsuspecting animal or person. 

 

***********************************************************

 

Ben and the search party had not heard Joe’s cries of anguish at the pain left behind from the rusty trap hidden in the stream, but like his son, over the last hour or so, his heart had been growing heavier and heavier with  worry of finding his youngest son alive and safe.  

 

Their hearts had soared with Hoss’s recognition of the local landscape, and they had thought to be on the right track.  But now,  after miles and miles of nothing but trees and rocks, their earlier hope was waning with every stride of the horses.

 

Sheriff Roy Coffee had become increasingly worried over the last few miles, but he rode in silence, not wanting to unduly alarm the Cartwrights about what he feared might be happening.     He now made the decision that he couldn’t keep those fears from them any longer.  They would have to make a bold move or risk losing the trail left by Danny Griffiths.

 

Roy brought his horse to a pause again and seemed to be surveying the tracks left behind by Griffiths’s horse when Adam and Ben came up behind him.  Hoss had been travelling ahead of Roy and now turned around to see why the others had stopped.

 

“Ben, I think we have got trouble,” Roy said throwing caution to the wind and not sugar-coating the problem.

 

“What is it, Roy?” Ben asked with a little dread in his words.

 

“I think this fellow knows he is being followed,” Roy answered and pointed the tracks on the ground.  The long-serving lawman had noticed  over the last ten miles or so that Griffiths’s looked to be deliberately changing the gait of his horse constantly, altering the tracks that were left behind for the search party to follow.

 

 

 

“Do you think he’s on to us?” Adam now asked, worried that they would lose their hope of finding Little Joe.   “Yes, I do,” Roy replied.  “See those tracks?  He’s trying to make them so they can’t be followed,” he added. 

 

“What do you think we should do?” Ben asked, hoping that the suggestion wouldn’t be to lose any more time and allow Griffiths’s to get further ahead.  Ben didn’t want to waste any more time than necessary.  They didn’t even know how Joe had been treated up until now.  He could be desperately waiting for his family to come and find him right this minute.

 

Roy could see the anxiousness on Ben’s face, and he knew that his old friend did not want to wait things out.  He knew he had to come up with another solution to their sticky situation.  “I think we should split up,” Roy announced after thinking deeply for a few more seconds. 

 

“You and Hoss head in that direction, Ben,” Roy explained as he held out his hand and pointed in a northerly direction.   “Adam and I will keep going along this road.   That way he won’t be able to double back on us and get away.”

 

Ben looked further up the road that they had been travelling in and then looked in the direction that Roy had pointed to.  “Fine, Roy, but please be very careful.  Fire two shots in the air if you find anything,” he said, trying to stress the “anything” part. 

 

Adam had nodded his agreement to the alteration in plans and now watched in silence as his father and younger brother Hoss headed off in a different direction.    He knew that Roy meant for the pair of them to wait a little longer before proceeding.  Adam knew that Roy was doing his best not to upset Ben by wanting to delay their progress any further.

 

***********************************************************

 

Danny Griffiths was still a little way in front of Adam and the Sheriff, and although he couldn’t see anybody when he looked behind him,  the wind made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his gut warned him that there was something out there.   He didn’t know what it was, but he spurred his horse into a gallop and picked up the pace dramatically.   It shouldn’t be too long now before he was back at the shack where Butch and Pierce were held up with the kid.

 

Roy and Adam tried to let as much time pass as possible before restarting their ride.   After only ten minutes, however, they both gave each other a certain look and quickly mounted their horses and started out again.  Although they had been trying to let Griffiths get a little further ahead, that same sense of warning made them start to canter their horses a little faster as well.

 

Griffiths could see the old shack in front of him.  He never thought that he would be glad to see such a run-down place.   As he got closer though, his curiosity started to rise again.   Something was wrong.    He dismounted and left the horse to wander loose for a minute in his haste to open the door and work out why the place was so eerily quiet.  Maybe they were all sleeping.

 

Griffiths turned the knob on the door, but got a very hollow-sounding reply as the door swung open and exposed the now vacant shack.    Thomas’s and Pierce’s horses had been tied up out back when he left, so he wasn’t overly concerned when he didn’t see the horses as he rode up.    His heart began racing now, however, when he couldn’t find anybody inside.

 

It had been about two hours after Joe’s escape that Butch Thomas and Robert Pierce discovered their little captive gone from his prison.   Thomas had roared with anger when he had spied the broken planks of wood in the corner of the room.   He had shouted and vowed to grab a hold of the kid when he found him and shake the living daylights

out of him.  

 

The two had made a quick and not very diligent search for the kid outside, but it soon became apparent that he had been gone for some time and that they weren’t likely to find him in a hurry.  They both had thought that he was too scared of Thomas and too injured to try something as daring as an escape.   Their minds started to wander now as to what might happen if the kid did make it back to civilisation and told people about the men who had kidnapped him.

 

Thomas wasn’t overly worried about being caught.  He was livid to think that a scrawny, bag of bones kid had gotten the best of him and escaped.  He was equally as sure, though, that the kid would be dead soon, anyway.   The kid was not likely to be able to walk the number of miles to find help with no food or water and very little sleep over the last two days.  

 

He told himself that he would hang low for a week or so, just until the dust about the kid’s death settled in Virginia City.  That way he could then just turn up in town and talk to Henry Williams about what happened without any fear of being blamed for the kid’s disappearance or death.

 

Robert Pierce, however, was just plain scared about being caught.  He didn’t have the cockiness that Thomas openly displayed, and he started to feel nervous about the mere mention of the kid being found dead along the roadway.  

 

Within twenty minutes, Pierce had his bedroll and few meagre possessions packed up and secured on his horse.   He rode away from Thomas, headed for New Mexico, telling himself that he would be better going someplace new like he wanted to.   He could make a new start and forget all about Butch Thomas and the Cartwright kid.

 

It wasn’t too long after Pierce that  Thomas himself rode out.   He didn’t even give Danny Griffiths another thought about returning from Virginia City. It made little difference now considering the lumber contract because his ace was now out of his grasp.   He promised himself a week of drinking and relaxing in Carson City before returning to collect the rest of his money from Henry Williams. 

 

After all, he had fulfilled his part of the deal and kept the kid as the bargaining chip as arranged.  It wasn’t his fault if the kid got away and then dropped dead out in the woods.   The money still rightfully belonged to him.  He was just damned mad that the kid had gotten the better of him.

 

Griffiths had lost track of time whilst standing in the doorway, trying to figure out where his two partners had gotten to with their hostage.  He heard a noise behind him and assumed it to be one of them.  He was badly mistaken as he felt himself driven up against the wall of the shack by a large fist.

 

“Where is my little brother?” a very ominous-looking Adam Cartwright demanded.   He held Griffiths with his left hand and held his right out in a clenched fist as a warning of what was to come should he be given the wrong answer.

 

“Now, now, Adam” Roy said, as he tried to prevent the eldest Cartwright from doing something he might regret later.  ”I know you’re worried about Little Joe, but we have to do things properly,” he said and then turned back towards the cringing Griffiths.

 

“Mister, you got about thirty seconds to tell us where Little Joe Cartwright is before I let this man do what he is threatening,” Roy now growled at the man.   Adam couldn’t help but smirk at Roy’s remark.    

 

“I don’t know where the kid is, honest, Mister,” Danny said in a meek voice.  “I just got here before you and the place was empty.”

 

“Where are your friends?” Roy asked, trying to get some information on the other kidnappers.  “I would be better for you if you co-operate.  The judge might decide to go easier on you,” Roy said, guessing that the man had just unwittingly dobbed himself into being involved in Little Joe’s abduction.

 

“Judge, what judge?  You haven’t got anything on me, Sheriff.  You said I was free to go back in Virginia City.   You said that the old guy had dropped the charges,” Griffiths said, a little sarcasm creeping into his voice.

 

“That’s what I said about Mr Perkins alright.  I don’t believe I said anything about you being in trouble over a kid.  Now what kid would you be talking about?” Roy asked, still acting dumb.    He could see another smile creep over Adam’s lips as he realised what game the Sheriff was playing.

 

“Kid, did I say kid?” Griffiths now said trying to change his story halfway through.  He knew that he had incriminated himself. 

 

“You don’t have to say anything to me at all, mister,” Roy now calmly said.  “Those saddlebags you tried to sell back in Virginia City give me all the proof I need.  Those bags belong to Little Joe.  The only way you would have them was if you took them from Joe.  I think you know more about Joe’s disappearance than you’re telling us.”

 

“Adam, would you kindly escort  this man to his horse.  Make sure his hands are secured behind his back, too.   I believe you and me have a prisoner to escort back to Virginia City,” Roy said.  

 

“I want to look around before we head back, Roy,” Adam said, as he started to glance around the run-down shack.   Roy now took a grip on Griffiths to prevent him getting away.  This allowed Adam to make sure that the place was deserted.  Adam was now feeling a little helpless.  He had expected to find Joe and his kidnappers upon finding Griffiths, but now, as he looked around the empty rooms, he didn’t know where to start looking for his missing brother.  What was he going to tell his father?

 

Adam could see the missing boards in the room Joe had been kept in.   They meant little to him because he failed to realise that the broken bits of timber signalled the escape route of Little Joe.   Adam lightly kicked the pieces of broken wood and left the room to got back to the front of the shack.

 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t worry about looking for your brother in here,” Griffiths said with a laugh.  “If I were you, I would be looking for a hole outside that he’s buried in,” he scorned.    Adam calmly walked over to the man and without warning struck him hard in the stomach with his fist.  Roy did not bother to stop Adam inflicting the blow.  He secretly wished he could have given Griffiths one himself for making a comment like that about someone he cared for.

 

Adam and Roy were soon mounted and ready to start the journey back to Virginia City with their unwilling prisoner when they heard two distinct gunshots fired into the air.  This was the one signal that they had been praying to hear since starting the search.

 

Adam gave a quick look that held the question towards the Sheriff.  Roy smiled briefly and knew that he would be making the journey back with Griffiths alone.    “Go on,” Roy said simply and watched as Adam kicked his horse into a gallop and rode towards the sound of the gunshots.   Adam didn’t know how far away his father and brother were when they fired the shots, but he could only hope that they had found Little Joe.

 

***********************************************************

 

As luck would turn out for  Ben and Hoss, the trail that they had chosen almost by accident would lead them in the same direction that Hoss and Joe had travelled from Pine Valley.

 

Hoss had suspected as much quite some time ago and voiced his thoughts to the others, but now that he and his father were separated from Adam and the Sheriff, he started voice his recognition of the local area again.

 

“This is the same road that Joe and me came on when we went camping last week, I’m sure of it,” Hoss announced to Ben.  These few words were the first spoken between the two men for quite a few miles.  Both were lost deep in thought about whether they were making the right decision to take this different trail.

 

“Maybe we are headed in the wrong direction, then,” Ben said.   “Why would Joe be way out here again?   We don’t have the slightest idea that this is the right way to be going.  We could be getting further and further away from Joe,” Ben said with frustration starting to creep into his voice.

 

“Don’t worry, Pa, we’ll find him soon,” Hoss said trying to give Ben some sort of hope to cling to.  Deep down he had  the same fears as his father, though.

 

“Hey Pa, this is were we were camped that night,” Hoss said, as they reached the bottom of a hill.  He knew that over the other side there was the small stream that had run beside their campsite.  It had also been the same stream that the little bear cub had fallen victim to that long-forgotten metal trap hidden on the muddy edge of the bank.

 

Hoss and Ben then rode up the slight slope in the road and were about to ride down the other side when they suddenly stopped on the crest of the hill and tried to take in the sight that lay before them.

 

Ben was certain that his heart stopped beating when he spotted the pathetic and thin-looking creature lying partly in the water of the stream and partly on the muddy bank.   He willed his body to move so as to get as quick as he could, but his muscles wouldn’t obey his brain.   He scarcely recognized the pale unconscious form of his youngest son that lay unmoving.   He even opened his mouth to try and shout the boy’s name, but the sound of his voice was taken away with the air from his lungs. 

 

Hoss had stood frozen to the spot much as his father was.  Now he fought hard to hold back the tears he felt welling up in his eyes as he looked upon the sight of his brother lying in the stream.   When he finally came to his senses and just before he made the desperate dash to catch up with his father, Hoss took his pistol from its holster and fired the two important signalling shots into the sky to alert the Sheriff and Adam that they had found Little Joe.   He couldn’t be sure now how far away Adam was, but he knew that they would all be needed to help get their brother home safe.

 

Ben had already started to run, and he jumped slightly at the sound of the gun going off.  It only delayed his pace for a short second as he ran towards Little Joe.

 

Ben reached his fallen son and suddenly found his voice and began whispering the boy’s name in vain to try and get a response from him.  As he tried to rouse the unconscious boy, his eyes were scanning over his body, trying to see any visible signs of injury.   The boy looked painfully thin and had his shirt was now torn almost to shreds.  

 

The thing that worried Ben mostly, apart from the unconsciousness, was the coldness of  Joe’s skin.  Whilst it was only his feet submerged in the water, his whole body trembled as Ben lay a gentle hand on his back.  The flesh was cold to the touch.

 

 

 

“Is he alright, Pa?” Hoss said knowing full well that his question sounded stupid even before he uttering it.

 

“I don’t know, Hoss,” Ben answered softly whilst continuing to check his son over for signs of injury.  “He’s just so darned cold.  Go and get your bedroll Hoss, quick.  We have to get him out of this water and get him warmed up.   His skin is freezing cold.”

 

Hoss turned and raced back to his horse for the warm blankets, tied to the back of Chubb.   While Hoss went back to the horses, Ben tried to pull his unconscious son out of the cold water of the stream.  This was when the problems really began.

 

Ben, unaware of the trap that encircled his son’s ankle below the water line, gently placed his hands underneath Joe’s arms and with short deliberate tugs, tried to drag his sodden son from the muddy water.  

 

Up until now, Joe had been completely oblivious to his father and brother’s presence.    As soon as his father tried to pull him from the water, though, the jaws of the metal trap bit deeper into his ankle, causing him to awaken to a semi-conscious state and scream hideously at the pain that plagued his body.

 

Ben immediately stopped at the sound of his son’s scream.  He knew that he was hurting the boy.  He tried to calm the boy and now stepped into the cold water himself and tried to lift the boy out without hurting him further.  

 

He tried to put his hands underneath the boy’s knees and shoulders and lift him out, but as soon as he pulled the boy more than a few inches, the chain that held the trap to the bottom of the stream became taut. 

 

Once again the jaws bit into the softened flesh of Joe’s ankle and caused fresh bleeding and pain.   Joe screamed out in agony again as fire and ice seemed to coarse through his veins.  Ice from the coldness of the water.  Red hot pain from the trap around his leg.

 

At least now Ben could see the hidden reason to his son’s torture.  It failed to bring him any relief from worry, though.   Ben could see upon closer inspection that the trap was old and rusty, and knew that it would take some effort to remove it from the boy’s leg.  Whichever way they tried to do it, he doubted that it would be possible to remove it without causing his son unbelievable pain.

 

By now Hoss had returned with the blankets, but upon hearing his brother’s pitiful screams of agony, he dumped them onto the muddy bank of the stream and entered the water to try and help his father.

 

“He’s got some sort of trap around his ankle,” Ben now informed Hoss.  Hoss immediately groaned as his thoughts went back to this same stream only a week earlier when it had been the bear cub who had fallen victim to one of  these vicious tools.  

 

Hoss and Ben now traded places so that Hoss could get a better look at the trap.  He, too, could see the corrosion of the metal.   He went to try and find a large stick to help release the trap.   Ben was now holding his youngest boy as best he could from the muddy bank.   As he held the boy, he rubbed his arms and chest, trying to get some warmth back into him.  The boy was just too cold.

 

Hoss had been heading back into the water with the stick when Ben and Hoss both heard another rider approaching the stream from the opposite direction.  For a few seconds the stranger was too far away for them to see who it was, and they immediately became apprehensive about someone else coming closer.   Ben gave a large sigh of relief, though, when he could finally make out the black-clad figure of his eldest son Adam on his horse Sport.

 

Hoss smiled briefly at the sight of his brother as well, but then firmly set his mind to the task at hand:  releasing his brother from his iron shackle.

 

Upon seeing his father and brother in the stream, Adam pulled his horse to a sudden stop and bolted towards them with worry and concern etched all over his face.  His gaze became fixated on the slim figure, shrouded by his father’s embrace, and his heart almost stopped beating for a few seconds.

 

Ben could see the fear and dread on his son’s face as Adam walked forward and gently pushed back one of the mud-caked curls from the unconscious boy’s forehead.  “How long has he been here?” Adam asked in a barely audible whisper.

 

“I don’t know, son, Hoss and I just found him a few minutes ago ourselves.  He has a trap around his ankle.  Hoss is working on getting it off now.  This water is so cold…” Ben answered.  

 

 

 

 

“I’ll help Hoss,” Adam said knowing that he would be more help to his brother that way.  He, too, just wanted to hold the boy and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but that luxury was afforded to their father at present.   Ben nodded at Adam’s statement as he continued to rub the cold flesh of his son’s arms and chest.

 

The trap turned out to be harder to remove than they first thought.  Joe had made a few moans of pain through the whole procedure, but the exhaustion, combined with the cold and the pain, caused him to revert mostly back to his earlier state of unconsciousness.

 

“Ah, finally!” Hoss exclaimed as he managed to slip the thin stick between the metal jaws of the trap and release their grip on Joe’s ankle.  Once the jaws were loosened however, the horrible-looking puncture marks began bleeding again.    Adam now held his brother’s leg and tried to use the boy’s sodden trousers to help compress the wound and slow the flow of blood. 

 

On Ben’s orders, they now carefully carried the unconscious youth between the three of them and headed up the muddy bank. Hoss immediately grabbed one of the blankets around his brother’s shivering body, the other he passed to Adam. 

 

Adam proceeded to tear a large strip from this one and use it as a bandage to tightly wrap the torn leg.  Unfortunately, any repairs to the leg or to any other part of Joe’s body would have to wait until they could get him back to the Ponderosa and into the expert physician’s hands of Paul Martin.

 

Ben wondered whether they should wait a while and allow Joe to get some rest before starting to head back the way they came.   A few more moans of pain and shivers from Joe, however, quickly convinced him that they needed to get the boy to medical help as soon as possible.  They already had quite a few hours of riding ahead, just to complicate matters even more.

 

Adam gave his father one of the blankets from his own bedroll and proceeded to wrap the first around Little Joe.   Adam held his brother’s frail form while his father mounted Buck.  He then passed the boy to his father, who wrapped him as tightly into his embrace as possible.  He hoped that his own body heat would help the boy over the next few of hours on the ride home.

 

 

 

 

“Hoss, I want you to go as fast as you can and get Doc Martin to meet us back at the Ponderosa.   If you see Roy along the way, tell him about finding Joe and that we will need to talk to him as soon as Joe is able to.  Go quickly, son,” he emphasised.

 

Hoss briefly walked over to his father while mounted on Chubb and looked down at his sleeping brother.  “You just hold on there, punkin,” he said.  “Ol’ Hoss is going to get the doctor for you, and he will fix you up good as new, ya hear?”   Hoss quickly tried to smile at his father and older brother and then turned his horse around and galloped off in the direction of Virginia City.

 

“You alright with him, Pa?” Adam asked not knowing what other words of comfort to say to his father at a time like this.  It was obvious to all of them that Little Joe’s condition was serious if not life-threatening.  They just had to get him home and pray that lots of rest and good food would see the usually full of life kid bounce back to his normal self.

 

“I’ll be fine, Adam,” Ben said gently as he looked back down at the child nestled in his coat.  “Let’s get him home,” he said and started Buck into a  slow walk.  At the moment that was all he was willing to risk.  Hopefully they would be able to pick up the pace as they got closer to home.

 

Ben’s thoughts were interrupted by the meek sound of his son’s voice coming back at him.   He only barely caught the words and asked the boy to repeat what he said.   Little Joe’s eyes were once again closed, but he repeated the sentence, “You ……….. finally ………… found me,” he whispered and was then lost to sleep again.

 

***********************************************************

 

With Hoss now riding hard towards Virginia City, Adam and Ben were left to carry  their precious burden back home.   They knew that time was a critical factor in the boy’s chances of survival.  At one point during the long arduous and slow trek through the landscape, Adam had pondered the idea of stopping to make a fire to try and warm the still unconscious youth.   

 

Whilst Ben thought that the warmth was needed, he also realised that it was medical treatment was so desperately needed and they were still some way from the homestead.   

 

 

 

 

 

A few times Ben had paused his ride and readjusted the sleeping bundle tucked under his coat.  Joe never seemed to feel his touch or hear the soothing words of comfort whispered in his ear as they rode.   Adam rode in front of Ben and Joe, trying to get his mind away from the worry and concern that he felt at the moment. 

 

After about four hours of never-ending road, Adam and Ben started to recognize the outskirts of the Ponderosa.  They now could follow the road with their hearts filled with a little relief at finally reaching their destination.

 

“Adam, you go on and get things ready at the house for Joe,” Ben now said, suggesting that Adam ride on ahead.   “Tell Hop Sing what has happened and how we found him.  Tell him we will need plenty of blankets and towels, bandages and anything else that you can  think of.  Make sure you get that fire going in the living room and in Joe’s room please” 

 

The words seemed to tumble out of his mouth all at once and tangle together into incoherent sentences.   Adam’s and his father’s eyes met briefly and seemed to make sense out of all the chaos.   Adam nodded his head slightly, signalling his agreement, and now started for home at a faster pace.

 

“Not far to go now, son, just a little way and you’re home, boy,” Ben whispered to Joe.    “You’ll soon be safe and warm in your own bed,” he said to his sleeping son.  He knew he could manage the ‘warm’ part easily enough.   The ‘safe’ part was going to be slightly more difficult to achieve.  There was no doubt in Ben’s mind that his son would be scared and unsure for the next few days until he was back in familiar surroundings and the love and understanding of his family.

 

***********************************************************

 

Back at the Ponderosa homestead, Adam arrived in the yard and was very pleased to see the buggy of the local doctor outside the front porch.   He hitched his horse up to a rail outside and was quick to get inside, wanting to talk to Paul about his brother.

 

Hoss and Paul Martin both looked up as Adam walked into the room.  “Hey, Adam,” came the greeting from Hoss.  

 

“Glad to see you home safe, Adam,” Paul said a little bit more formally and stepped forward to shake Adam’s hand.  The doctor knew that there would be little else on the Cartwrights minds at the moment except for Joseph.

 

“Have you told the Doctor here what happened, Hoss?” Adam now asked his younger brother.  “Hop Sing, you will need to have a few things ready for when Pa arrives home with Joe,” Adam said now, addressing the little oriental man coming out of the kitchen into the living room.

 

“No time stop talk to Mr Adam.  Get things ready for boy when get home,” Hop Sing said obviously not hearing Adam’s request.  It seemed though that Hop Sing had everything already under control as he carried a basin laden with bandages and a few small bottles up the stairs towards Joe’s room.  Hop Sing probably already had a good idea what would be needed, and Adam was sure that Paul would have everything he needed with him in his black medical bag.

 

The three men now stood anxiously in the living room, too nervous to sit down, while they waited for Ben and Joe to arrive back home.  There was no conversation as the worry was evident on their faces.  Even Doctor Paul Martin showed his concern about Joe’s condition. He had yet to see the boy, but from all accounts from Hoss, the boy was in a very bad way when he was found in the stream.  Joseph was almost like a son to him as well and he knew that anything happening to the youngest Cartwright would affect him just as badly as the family itself.

 

They continued to wait.  The only sound in the room was Hop Sing trudging up and down the staircase to Joe’s room.  For the last four or five trips, he had been carrying a bucket of hot water in each hand.  Hoss and Hop Sing had manoeuvred a metal bathtub into the room when Hoss first arrived home.   From Hoss’s description, the boy was covered in mud from lying so long in the stream.  He would need to be cleaned before Paul could even start his examination of the boy.  It was assumed that the hot water would also help to warm the boy, too.

 

Just when it all seemed that the waiting was too much of a burden to Hoss, there was the sound of hooves on the ground outside.  All three men raced to the front door to greet the approaching rider. 

 

They all met a very tired-looking Ben sitting on top of Buck whilst holding onto Joe.  Joe stilled looked to be unconscious and that greatly worried the Doctor.  He was told that the boy has been unconscious when they had found him partly submerged in the stream.  That had been well over four hours ago. 

 

“Adam, you take Joe from your father and Hoss you help Ben inside to a cup of hot coffee,” Doc Martin said, now making sure that all of the Cartwrights were going to be alright.

 

Adam’s gaze became fixated on the limp form of his youngest brother against his father’s chest.  The boy looked no older than twelve rather than the energetic youth of sixteen he had greeted at the breakfast table a week or so ago.   The boy’s complexion was very pale in contrast to the dark shirt his father wore underneath his tan leather vest.  He pulled himself out of his trance-like state and now raised his arms, ready to take the boy inside.

 

Ben knew that his arms had become numb over the last hour or so from holding onto his son, so it was with a little relief that he allowed Adam to take Joe from his saddle.  Adam made sure that there was one strong arm around the boy’s shoulders, and another under his knees.  He would need to be careful of the leg wound as they made their way inside and up the staircase.

 

For some unknown reason, Adam felt himself hold the boy tightly to his chest as he carried him inside.   He knew that the boy was unaware of his family, but Adam needed to feel the boy just to make sure that the image he saw was real. 

 

There had been many thoughts of fear and worry that had run through his mind over the last two days.  He had lain awake after Hoss and his father had retired after another long day of searching, telling himself that they would find Joe safe and well again.  As that week had drawn on, it had become harder and harder to convince himself of this fact.  

 

Hoss had helped his father from Buck and let one of the hands put the animal in the barn for the night.  Ben had stood in the one spot for a few minutes and tried in vain at many stages to stretch some of the aches and kinks out of his sore muscles.  They had become stiff from being in the same position for so long.  Afterwards, Ben strode purposefully into the house wanting to know the condition of his youngest son. 

 

Hop Sing had placed the cup of coffee on the table at Doc Martin’s suggestion, but now, with more important things on his mind, Ben walked right passed it, fully expecting it to get cold before he would return to drink it.

 

Doc Martin had already begun to help Hoss and Adam undress Little Joe just as Ben approached the doorway to the room.  “What can I do, Paul?” Ben asked knowing how stupid the question sounded even before he asked it.

 

 

 

 

“I want you to take care of yourself first, Ben Cartwright,” Doc Martin answered sternly.  “I know you are more concerned about Little Joe than yourself at the moment, but the room’s already crowded with the three of us, for the time being.  By the time you get yourself cleaned up, we should be finished the bath so that I can begin the proper examination of his injuries.  That’s probably when I am going to need you the most, Ben,” Doc Martin said.

 

Paul was expecting a full-fledged argument with the patriarch of the Cartwright family and although he could see worry and concern etched on his old friend’s face,  he could also see the signs of fatigue and submission.

 

“Alright, Paul, you win, for a short while.  I will get myself cleaned up a little, but after that I will be right back ready to help you with my son whether you or him both want it.” Ben replied in his most serious voice.  

 

Adam, Hoss and Paul all watched Ben turn from the room and saw his slumped posture as he walked slowly back to his own room for a few minutes.  All knew that his shoulders were weighed down heavily with worry, fear and guilt about his son as well as with fatigue from the trip.

 

Now Paul quickly snapped back to his task at hand, knowing that there was another Cartwright who needed his help more at the moment.  Hop Sing had come in and filled the copper bathtub up with warm water.  He had then gone about laying some heavier sheets on top of Joe’s bed so that they could be easily taken away once Joe’s filthy rags had been removed.  

 

Hoss held his little brother in a slightly upright position from behind as Adam and Doc teamed up to help with the mattered bits of cloth.  They had to be careful not to cause any more injury to the already gravely ill boy before them.

 

First the two last remaining buttons on the shirt were undone, and Adam very carefully started to peel back the fabric from his brother’s chest.  He sighed secretly in relief when he was able to see the chest slowly inflate and deflate from Joe’s deep breathing action. 

 

Both Adam and Paul held back there gasps of shock at the extent of the bruising on the boy’s upper body.   There were dark purple bruises all over the rib cage, some which had not fully formed yet.   They looked angry and overlapped each other in places, signalling the severity of the beating that Joe had been the recipient of.  

 

 

Hoss was unable to compose himself quite as well and his eyes filled with rage when he saw the punishment that had been inflicted upon his younger brother.  He swore to both his brother and himself that he would make the men responsible pay.

 

Paul reminded both Adam and Hoss that they needed to put their personal feelings aside about what had happened to Joe so that they could help heal his injuries.  He knew it was difficult for both brothers to do just this, but Joe couldn’t afford to be exposed to the elements anymore than was absolutely necessary.   The boy had already shown signs of illness due to lying in the cold water of the stream for so long in addition to the long, windy ride home on his father’s horse.

 

With Joe’s trousers, Paul though it best if they cut the legs back to the knee length before trying to pull them off.  Some of the fabric had become imbedded in the wound on his right leg and when Paul had tried to gently probe the area to remove the dirt and debris, the pain had been bad enough to bring Joe from the deep dark depths of unconsciousness to just under the surface of waking.  Hoss found that he had to adjust and tighten his grip on his younger brother so that he wouldn’t thrash about from the pain and hurt himself further.

 

Paul now took a knife that Hop Sing had provided and slit the legs of the trousers just above the knee.  They were able to remove the shortened pants over the injured area without causing Joe too much discomfort.  Paul suggested that they might be able to remove the dirt and debris a little bit better with the aid of the water in the tub.

 

They all had wondered about Joe’s reaction to modesty, but soon put that aside and told themselves that Joe would just have to put up with a little embarrassment until they finished the bathing of his body.  Joe was still unconscious, despite the probing and removing of clothes, and they just hoped that that would last until they finished what they had to do.

 

Doc Martin checked the temperature of the water one last time and now motioned for Adam and Hoss to carefully pick up their inert brother’s body and place it in the water.  He reminded them to be extra gentle and watch out for the boy’s injuries and also for the boy waking suddenly from being immersed in the water and thrashing about, causing more pain to himself.

 

Adam now moved to the head of the bed and placed one arm underneath Joe’s slim back and wrapped the other securely but gently around his chest.  Hoss placed both arms underneath Little Joe’s knees and now lifted the slight weight from the bed with Adam.

 

Both Adam and Hoss shuffled together across the short distance to the copper tub with Joe in their arms.  Very slowly they now lowered his body into the warm water, continuing to support him the whole time for fear of his head slipping under the water.   They had been a little disappointed not to see the reaction that Doc Martin had alerted

them to earlier.  There brother made no such attempt to thrash about, there was not even a twitch to signal that he might be coming awake.

 

Adam now took the soft cloth left by Hop Sing and using the hand that had been across Joe’s chest, and started to wipe away some of the dirt and grime that had become encrusted on his brother’s skin over the last two days.  

 

As the dust and mud were swirling together to made the water cloudy, Joe’s numerous cuts and bruises were becoming more noticeable.  Some of them had yet to form and were only visible by small dots of purple around the edges.  The injury that caused the most concern was the right leg where the metal jaws of the rusty trap had bitten into the soft flesh and tissue of Joe’s leg. 

 

The warm water seemed to get most of the dirt from the injury, but now, with the puncture wounds submerged, there was some fresh bleeding.   Adam and Hoss knew that there might be internal injuries that they couldn’t see at the moment. 

 

This suspicion seemed to be confirmed by the dark and ugly bruises stating to emerge over Joe’s rib cage and chest area.   Apart from the injuries on his torso and lower legs, the injury that stood out the most, and made Adam’s and Hoss’s blood boil over with hatred and contempt, was the rope burn around Joe’s neck.  

 

The rope burn was a mark about half an inch wide that went all the way around Joe’s neck.  It was possible to see the twist pattern made by the weave of the rope in the raw circle of skin that encircled the slender neckline.

 

“I swear, Adam, if I find out who did this to Little Joe……..,” Hoss said, leaving the sentence unfinished as to what he might physically do to Joe’s assailants.  Adam, who normally prided himself about his ideas of justice for all and never jumping to conclusions about anybody, could only sadly nod his head to Hoss’s comment as he felt the surge of his own anger rise again.  He, too, told himself secretly that he didn’t know what he would do if he came across the men who had been responsible for kidnapping and beating his little brother half to death.

 

The three men had been leaning over the unconscious boy, who lay limp in the copper bathtub, and all had various thoughts of anger and retribution on their minds as they tended to Joe with the utmost care.  

All of their thoughts were forgotten, however, and the words on the tips of their tongues dried up as they all saw a slight movement that made them all hold their breath in anticipation.

 

Little Joe felt like he was swimming.  Swimming against a never-ending tide of black that seemed to surround him on all sides.  For a brief moment, the black mass seemed to clear a little, and he thought he saw a strange and distant light before him.   He didn’t know where the light led to, and he really didn’t know if he wanted to go towards it.  

 

Whilst his tired mind was trying to work out what to do, his physical body reacted in the bathtub by turning his head to the side, pausing for a moment, and then turning back to the other side.   By the time he had turned his head back, the blackness was swirling around him again, and his fatigue prevented anymore thought.  

 

The blackness this time seemed to be lighter and he didn’t think that he was fighting the gloom as hard this time.   His brain hoped that he would again see the strange light and maybe it would lead him from this eternal midnight.

 

“Doc, did you see that?” Hoss finally said, breaking the silence of the room, as they all waited to see if the movement was a true sign of Joe waking up or just a reflex action.    Hoss’s eyes never left his younger brother’s sleeping face, and neither did those of Adam or Doc Martin.

 

“I don’t know, Hoss, maybe its a sign,” Doc Martin answered, still peering at Joe and waiting for another brief movement.   “Let’s hurry and get him out of this tepid water now.  I want him up on the bed so that I can examine him properly and go about fixing that leg,” he added.

 

Adam and Hoss carefully lifted their brother out of the water and lowered him onto a clean sheet that had been warmed and laid across the bed.  The three of them then went about drying Joe’s body with towels that Hop Sing had provided.

 

It was about the time that they had finished drying Joe and getting him into a nightshirt that Ben came back into the room, wearing clean clothes of his own and looking decidedly better than before. 

 

 

 

“How is he, Paul?” Ben asked, as he walked across to the bed and took a place next to his son as Hoss stepped aside.   Ben’s hand grasped Joe’s, and he absent-mindedly started to stroke the boy’s cheek, urging him to wake up for them.

 

“We’ve only just finished cleaning him up Ben” Doc Martin said, as he started going through his medical bag, making sure he had everything that he would need for the examination he was about to perform.  “Not sure, but I think he might be waking up.  He moved his head slightly in the bath, but then seemed to go back to sleep,” Paul explained. 

 

“Hopefully its a good sign.  Now, I will allow you to stay, Ben, but I want Hoss and Adam out, I’m afraid,” he now added.   He knew from experience that Ben Cartwright would have no intentions of leaving his injured son’s room, by force or not.   He couldn’t afford to have Joe’s room too crowded, though.   He was going to be at this a while and needed the room to remain as quiet as possible to be able to complete his task.

 

Adam and Hoss smiled slightly at their father as they headed to the door.   They didn’t say anything but knew that what the doctor was asking was only for Joe’s benefit.  They were worried about him, but would wait downstairs for the diagnosis graciously.   Adam made sure that the door clicked closed on his way out.

 

“You can remain where you are, Ben,” Paul said to his old friend “I am going to check him over for other injuries first, and then attend to the ones we can see.  I want the water to dry from the puncture wounds a little before I attempt to suture and bandage them.”   Ben nodded his agreement.

 

Paul started at Joe’s head and slowly worked his way down.   All the time the doctor was completing the examination, Ben’s vision followed his  skilled hands.  He never let his eyes stray from his son for a second while the doctor attempted to assess his true state of condition.

 

The first injury that was evident on Joe was the wound left by Butch Thomas striking his head with the butt of the pistol.   It lie just inside his hairline so that some of the curls were stiff from the dried blood.  Although most of the blood had been washed away to reveal only a

nasty- looking but small gash. 

 

Paul made a mental note  to dab at the area with a little ointment.  Other than that the cut wasn’t large or deep enough to require stitching.   Paul spoke to Ben as he went about the examination whilst still keeping his trained eyes on his young patient.

 

The next bruise that the doctor saw puzzled him more than worried.

It was a darkish bruise about the size of a coin in the centre of his left temple.   It wasn’t life-threatening or even caused pain the doctor surmised, but what did make him curious about it was its perfect shape.   It was a perfect ring with a hollow centre. 

 

What could have made such a mark on the boy?   Ben saw his friend pause and look intently at the small mark.   He, too, could see the bruise, but didn’t seem overly concerned about it as Paul did.

 

“What’s wrong, Paul?” Ben asked, as he continued to watch his son and the doctor.

 

“I am just curious about what could have been used to make such a perfectly round bruise on the boy’s temple,” Paul replied.  “It seems to be the least of his problems at the moment, though,” Paul reminded himself and set about examining the rest of the boy without putting a lot of thought into such a small bruise.

 

Paul now gently lifted each of Joe’s eyelids to peer underneath at the pupils.   “They both look a little better Ben,” Paul said out loud.  “Not so dilated as before, maybe that’s a good sign,” he added.

 

It was about now that the dark fog that had been holding Joe began to release its grip, and once again Joe could feel himself floating towards the unknown distant light ahead.  He could now hear voices in his head.  He couldn’t really work out who they belonged to just yet, and they all seemed to combine into one low-sounding voice.   He tried to listen harder to try and work out what the voices were saying.

 

Paul was now touching at the rope burn around Joe’s neck.   Ben had to sit with his hands in clenched fists to stop the anger he felt rising inside him when he thought about somebody having a rope around his son’s neck for any reason.  

 

The fact that the rope had been tight enough to make an impression on his skin made Ben’s anger settle in the pit of his stomach in one big ball of anger.  He always spoke to his sons about justice and letting the law handle things that were in the wrong, but looking now down at the fragile boy lying on the bed beside him, the words he had spoken in the past seemed to hold no real meaning anymore.

 

 

 

 

Paul  reached into his medical bag and placed a small amount of a translucent cream on his finger tips, ready to rub it into the scarred area.   The cream was often used in burns cases, but would work equally as well with this injury.   Paul now spread the cream to both hands and then placed his fingertips on the raw skin and attempted to massage the cream into the red and dried skin.   He and Ben were not prepared for the reaction they were about to receive.

 

Joe had been slowly working his way back to consciousness for the last ten to fifteen minutes.  The feeling that jolted him awake with fear was that of the doctor’s fingers around his neck.   At this stage he was unable to comprehend whose hands they actually were.  To him they could have been anybody.  At the moment, with his mind so tortured from his ordeal, there was only one face that came into his mind when thinking about who the hands belonged to………Butch Thomas.

 

Joe told himself to calm down as he could feel the fingers seemingly encircle his already sore neck.   He felt the pain from the injury, and his mind associated the pain with his kidnapper.  He had no recollection of being found by his father and brothers and that the fingers might be from somebody trying to help him.  His mind screamed at him that he couldn’t let Butch Thomas get his hands on him again.  He vaguely remembered getting away from him at some point and now it seemed as though his nightmare had caught up with him again only to dish out some more punishment.

 

His throat felt so raw that he could scarcely swallow, but he knew that at the moment his very life might be in danger again.   He had to get away.  He gathered as much moisture as he could into the back of his throat, ready to scream to Thomas to leave him the hell alone.

 

Paul had only been rubbing the cream into Joe’s neck for a short time when all of a sudden the boy’s eyes opened wide and his hands sprung up from his side and started to push the doctor’s hands away.  He was trying to release the words he held in his throat, but all that emerged was a low stark moan that didn’t seem to have any meaning at all except pain.

 

Paul and Ben were both shocked when it seemed that this boy, who had been unconscious for hours, now suddenly sat up on his own and was trying to fight them from helping him.  

 

“Stop it, I am not going to let you hurt me again!” Joe screamed through his raw throat.  “Leave me alone… leave me alone…don’t hurt me anymore,” he pleaded as tears came to his eyes and he continued to claw away at the doctor’s gentle hands on his neck.

 

“Joseph, its alright, son,” Ben said, now recovering from his initial shock and seeing that the boy was obviously distressed.  “Doc Martin is only trying to help you,” Ben added, trying to restrain his son’s hands gently enough to allow the doctor to do his work.  

 

Joe turned his face towards the voice that spoke to him, but it took a few seconds for his mind to focus on who was saying the words.  “Pa,” was the only word he could croak out, disbelieving the image in front of him to be the one person he had been hoping to come during this last week of torture.   

 

“Yes ,son, its me,” Ben said with a smile and a little chuckle at the boy’s confusion.  Inside his heart was still trying to calm down.  “You’re safe now, Joseph.  Nobody is going to hurt you again, I promise,” he added with firmness meant to add to the boy’s need for safety and security right now.    Joe looked at his father for a few seconds still trying to comprehend whom he was seeing in the room.   He started to cry again and collapsed into the willing embrace of his father.  The emotion and fatigue were all too much for him.  

 

Ben now moved closer to the boy by sitting on the bed whilst still holding onto his son.  He knew that the boy was looking for reassurance and protection and he was happy to provide them.  

 

“I need you to try and keep him awake a little longer, Ben,” Paul said, as he tried to look over his young patient without being intrusive.  He was glad the boy was awake and he wanted to continue his necessary medical treatment, but he could see that the fear and emotion in the boy at the moment were overwhelming and needed attention as much as his injuries.  He would have to tread carefully with the boy.    Ben nodded his head, knowing that it was dangerous to let the boy return to sleep after only just waking from such a deep state of unconsciousness. 

 

Joe had heard the second voice as he lay against his father’s chest and now turned his head so that he peeked out from under Ben’s arm in a timid glance towards the doctor.  He continued to stare at the man for quite a while.  His brain told him that it was Doctor Paul Martin that was touching him and it wasn’t Butch Thomas hurting him.  He told himself that he knew Doc Martin to be a good and caring person, but all of this rationality didn’t help to ease his fears.

 

Joe continued to look at Paul from his protected position in his father’s embrace.  Doc Martin could see the questions in the young man’s emerald green eyes.  The sad part was that the doctor knew he didn’t have all the answers that the young man yearned so much to hear.

 

“That’s right son, its just me, old Doc Martin,” Paul said gently as he reached out his hand and placed it on the boy’s knee.   The boy seemed to shrink away from all other forms of human contact except that of his father.   It soon became plain to the boy that he couldn’t go anywhere else, and so he allowed the doctor’s hand to touch his skin again. 

 

Doc Martin could see that although Joe was now awake and needed to stay so for a while yet, the days of fatigue was etched in his young skin and despite his previous unconsciousness, his body demanded decent food and rest before it could begin the healing process.  

 

The doctor knew that although his young patient was reluctant and shy, he needed to keep at his examination.     He said so out loud and told Ben that it would be alright if Joe stayed in the comfort of his father’s arms.  There was no need to create any further alarm to the boy or any unnecessary distress.  The boy had been through hell enough over the last week or so.

 

Doc warmed his hands a little and then proceeded to place them on Joe’s chest to feel the extent of the injuries that might have been caused.   Joe had to turn his head into his father’s chest and bite down on his lip to stop from yelling out loud from the pain he felt.   He knew the doctor was only trying to help, but even the gentlest of touches caused the dull ache in his chest to erupt into a stabbing pain that left him almost breathless.

 

Ben put one hand behind Joe’s back and tried to soothe away some of the pain with long, calming caresses down the young man’s back.   He could hear the faint grunts of pain that his son emitted every time the doctor moved his fingertips.  

 

“It actually feels a little better than I first suspected, Ben,” Paul said with a degree of satisfaction.  “There is some severe bruising to the muscles and outer skin, but other than that, the ribs don’t seem to be cracked or broken.  That’s a real blessing  considering all he’s been through.  I don’t even think it will need tapping at this stage.  If he takes it easy, the bruising should come out fully in a couple of days and then start to disappear,” Paul said.

 

“Joe, for the next few days, I want you to do some deep breathing exercises to help your bruised chest.  I know they will hurt at first, but they need to be done to help your chest regain its strength.  The pain will ease as the muscles get stronger again.” Paul said in a very calm voice.   He saw a slight nod of the curly head and knew that his patient had at least heard his words.

 

With each minute that passed, Paul could slowly see Joe’s head bow just that little more against Ben’s chest and his eyelids grow just that little bit heavier with the call of sleep.  

 

Most of the other cuts and bruises on Joe were superficial and would need no more care than bed rest and good food from Hop Sing’s kitchen   Paul now set about suturing the puncture wounds on Joe’s leg.  He pulled out a small bottle of alcohol and began to dab some of the clear liquid on a small cloth.  

 

He sat right beside Ben and gave a nod, which meant for his friend to hold onto the boy a little tighter for a few minutes.  Ben nodded back, reading the doctor’s intentions, and then Paul held Joe’s other leg down with his free hand.

 

Joe had known that the alcohol would sting his leg, but he wasn’t quite prepared for the burning sensation that came afterwards and seemed to just get hotter and hotter.  Joe tried hard, but in the end he just couldn’t hold back the scream of pain.  

 

He had tears streaming down his face, and his hands gripped onto the front of his father’s shirt with a vice-like grip.   He begged his father and the doctor to make the pain stop, but unfortunately it was beyond their control.  Both men wished they could take the pain for the boy and both felt anguish of their own at the boy’s distressed condition.

 

“I’m sorry, Little Joe, but I need to make sure the wounds are nice and clean before I start stitching them,” Paul said, as he put the cloth and bottle of alcohol back into his medical bag.  Ben continued to rub Joe’s back, trying to stem the steady stream of hiccups that had resulted from the crying.   He gently kissed his son on the forehead and told him that everything would soon be alright.

 

Ben watched now as Paul pulled a small needle out of his bag filled with opaque-coloured liquid.  Ben looked questioningly at the doctor, not distrusting the man, but concerned that they were still trying to keep the boy awake a little longer rather than put him back to sleep.

 

“I thought we had to try and keep him wake, Paul?” Ben asked.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“This is only a muscle relaxant, Ben.  I think Joe’s had enough for one day.  I, too, would ideally like to see the boy awake for a little longer, and with most people staying awake only calm’s them down.  In Joe’s case, at the moment however, I wouldn’t be surprised if it does eventually put him to sleep.  He is physically tired and mentally exhausted, and he needs to be calm whilst I tend to his leg.  I think its for the best, Ben,” Paul said, and smiled slightly when Ben nodded his head in approval and smile slightly back.  Both could see from Joe’s tired eyes and facial features that the boy wouldn’t be awake must longer, anyway.

 

To the men’s surprise, however, the boy had more in him than they thought.  Both of them wondered if it was true inner strength that Joe was demonstrating by staying awake as long as he did or a deeper darker meaning of his torturous ordeal. Joe was still awake well after the last suture had been inserted into his leg to seal the wounds and even after the injury was wrapped in a clean white bandage.

 

Just as Paul was doing the final wrapping, Hop Sing seemed to guess  what would be the next priority for the boy, and he walked into the room with an only slightly warm bowl of soup.  It was barely warm so that Joe could drink it straight away.  

 

Hop Sing walked over to the bed and gave his favourite Cartwright his best smile, and although he got a slight smile of appreciation in return, Hop Sing knew that there was something missing in those sad eyes.  The light in them had been extinguished and now they held no laughter or signs of happiness.  Something that his family couldn’t put a price on had been taken away from Joe.

 

“Mista Cartwright spoon to boy?” Hop Sing enquired.

 

“I don’t know if its a good idea to try and get him moving around much at the moment Hop Sing,” Ben replied.  “How about I just let him stay where he is and prop him up a little more, and you can spoon the soup to him in small amounts so he doesn’t choke?” he added.   Hop Sing seemed pleased with this arrangement.  It meant that he actually felt that he was helping the boy by doing this small, but oh-so-important task.

 

For the next five minutes, Joe allowed them to spoon half a tablespoon of soup to him at a time.  At first he really wasn’t sure that he wanted anything to eat at all. But he knew that if he put up a protest, Doc Martin would find something awful-tasting to make up for it.  At least Hop Sing’s soup tasted better than any concoction the doctor could invent.

 

 

When the soup bowl was about half empty of its contents, Joe’s body finally succumbed to its exhaustion and pain, and he fell asleep still leaning against his father’s chest with Hop Sing still attempting to get more of his nourishing soup into his mouth. 

 

All three men couldn’t help but smile at the innocence Joe portrayed when he was asleep.  They all felt that resurgence of anger when they thought about how close they had come to never seeing such contentment again. 

 

Even in sleep, Joe’s upper eyelids seemed again to be always flickering, indicating that the boy was dreaming.   Every now and then, there would be a quiet gasp of alarm or a groan of pain, as if he was reliving his whole kidnapping ordeal again.  It seemed even that when he wasn’t in Butch Thomas’s presence, the man found a way to inflict hurt and torment his mind.

 

“Do you think you can move, Ben, without waking him?” Paul now asked his friend as he saw the awkward position he had been forced into as Joe’s pillow.  There was no doubt in the doctor’s mind that Ben would be needed for quite some time to come in a number of roles:  healer, comforter, listener, carer, and most of all, father.

 

Ben looked down at his sleeping bundle and then very carefully and slowly started to slid out from underneath the boy’s slight weight.  There were one or two small groans at first, but then the boy seemed to go silent again, and then there was nothing as Ben laid Joe’s body out on his back on the bed and covered him with a blanket.

 

“Let’s leave him settle on his own for a few minutes and  go down to Adam and Hoss”  Paul suggested.   “Someone can come back and sit with him in a few minutes.” he added, suggesting that Ben get some rest himself and let one of the other family members take the first watch with Joe.

 

Ben followed the doctor out the door to his son’s room, stealing a quick glance back towards his slumbering son.

 

Hoss was seated in the living room, as the doctor descended the stairs, and Adam seemed to be deep in thought, prodding at the hot coals of the fire place with a poker.  They both forgot what they were thinking about and immediately turned to face the two men coming out of Joe’s room.  Both desperately wanted to know their brother’s condition.

 

 

 

“There is a long road ahead, boys, but given some time, I think he will recover nicely,” Paul said, just to reassure them from the beginning.  “The biggest worry we have at the moment, apart from the mental torment, is his leg injury, of course.  He has extensive bruising that will be sore for a number of weeks.  Thankfully, though that doesn’t make them any less painful for the boy.  He will be a very stiff and sore boy for a good month or so,” Paul explained.

 

“The injury that causes me the most concern,  is the puncture wounds from the trap. The trap was old and rusty as you know, so there is a high risk of infection due to dirt and other materials being driven to the wound by the steel jaws. 

 

I have tried to clean them out the best I can, but we will just have to wait and see if there are any adverse effects.   There will, no doubt, be some sort of fever from his injuries, but how severe and how high it will go, I can’t tell at this stage.    He seems to have swallowed some mud and water from the stream, but it doesn’t seem to have affected his lungs to any great extend.   Something to be even more thankful, I think, because Lord knows that boy doesn’t need anything else like a bout of pneumonia,” he continued.

 

“What about his mental attitude and the effect all of this is going to have on him in the long term?” Adam now asked plainly.

 

“As good as a doctor as I am Adam, that is something that is unknown at this stage.  His mind is probably going to take the longest to heal.   After he is healed physically, we will need to gradually start working on his self-esteem and confidence again.  I think the easiest way, but probably the most painful way also, is for him to open up to one or all of you and tell us exactly what happened to him out there.  It may be a day, a week or a month or a few months, but sometime down the track he is going to have to come to terms with what happened to him out there.  I am not going to sugar-coat it for you:   it is going to be very difficult, for him and for you, to hear what he has to say,” Paul admitted.

 

He could see the sullen looks now on the two brothers at the uphill battle it was going to become.  Neither of them would back away from the challenge, though.  Both of them wanted to help their younger brother heal his physical injuries as well as the mental ones. 

 

“Now, your brother is going to stay off his leg for the next two months or so while his body starts to heal and I allow him to get out of bed,” Paul said in a more serious tone.

 

“Let him out of bed?” Adam now asked with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.  They all knew too well about Joe’s past experiences with injury and how quickly the young man was trying to get the doctor to let him get out of bed.  Most of the time it was well before the doctor had wanted to in the first place.

 

“I know, I know,” Paul said with a grin.  He too was used to the battles he and his patient offered wagered about his confinement to bed.  “But you will have to help him out a little more than he would like, I’m afraid, until he gets used to the crutches.  They aren’t the easiest things to move around on.”

 

“Don’t worry, Doc, we will take the very best care of him,” Hoss said with a  determined voice.

 

“I know you will, Hoss,” Paul said, giving the large man a slap on the shoulder.   It was always the big men who fell first, the doctor told himself.

 

“I will be back to check on that leg tomorrow, Ben.  The bandages will need to be changed daily, maybe more than once.  I will come in the morning and see how he’s faired the night.  Let me know if that fever I talked about comes and gets too high,” he added as he stepped through the front door of the homestead with bag in his hand.  Ben and he shook hands, knowing that Paul was never far away if the family needed him again.

 

“Thanks, Paul, truly,” Ben said genuinely.  Doc Martin nodded his head in acknowledgement as he climbed into his buggy and prepared to head back down the dirt road to Virginia City.

 

***********************************************************

 

Ben now closed the front door and locked it.  “You, boys, you two get some rest for a few hours.  I will go and sit with him for the night.  One of you can relieve me in the morning,” he said, as he headed towards the staircase.

 

“Um, Pa,” Hoss now said, putting a gentle but restraining hand on his father’s shoulder.  “Adam and I have been talking about things whilst you were seeing Doc Martin off,” he said, feeling a little uneasy about what he was about to say to his father.  He had no doubts that it needed to be said, but that didn’t make it any easier.   Hoss had rarely had the need to be stern when talking to his father at any time during his entire life.

 

“Oh, you have, have you, Hoss?” Ben asked with a raised eyebrow.  He suspected about the topic of conversation, and he was trying to hide the smile he felt at his large son’s obvious nervousness.

 

“Well, yeah, Pa, and we decided, that is, Adam and me thought it would be best if one of us takes the first watch with Joe.  That way you will be able to get a few hours of sleep of your own, and be ready during the night if Joe needs you.  The boy is probably going to sleep a while himself, anyway, according to what the Doc had to say,” Hoss said. 

 

His tongue felt like it was tied all in knots, and his stomach wasn’t in much better shape.  He and Adam both knew that it would take a combined effort to get their father to rest during such a crisis with his youngest son.

 

Ben was trying to muster up a valid argument for his two sons, but he really did feel tired.  “Fine, son,” he said, clamping a gentle but firm hand on his large son’s shoulder in appreciation, “You both win this time.  I will go and try to sleep but I want to be awoken the minute anything changes or if your brother starts to wake up at all.  Understand?” he now asked with added emphasis.

 

“Sure, Pa,” Hoss said, inwardly sighing in relief that he didn’t have to battle his father over this.  The family had always joked with Joe about having a short fuse and fiery temper, but it was just as well known where half of that had been gained from.  Joseph was in many ways like his spirited mother Marie, but sometimes, just when he exploded with anger at the wrong time, there was also a hint of Ben in him.

 

Adam and Hoss now both watched Ben climb the remaining stairs to the top floor and then slowly walk into his room and close the door behind him.  Their father really did look tired and worn out from worry over Joe. 

 

“Remember, Hoss, don’t wake Pa unless it is absolutely necessary,” Adam gently reminded his younger brother.   He had seen the signs of fatigue and the slouch in his father’s shoulders. “Let me know if there is a problem.  Hopefully the kid will get some decent rest himself.  Lord knows he is going to need it,” he added and then headed towards his own bedroom.

 

Hoss now headed towards Joe’s room. Once inside, he moved the chair closer to the boy’s bed.  For a few minutes he just gazed down at the slumbering figure in the bed, wondering what the next few days and weeks would bring to this household.  He knew that Joe’s kidnapping and disappearance had had a vast affect on them all. He just hoped, deep down that they would all be able to recover. 

 

Most of all this young man lying in the bed.  He couldn’t bear to think about the mental torment that would be raging inside the young man, as he would be forced to relive those horrible days of captivity.  He took Joe’s sleep-limp hand in his own and tried to will his own physical strength into the weak and frail boy, hoping that he could at least be there when the boy needed him.

 

After about an hour, Hoss awoke with a start.  He hadn’t realised himself dozing off in the chair.  He looked around the room, trying to figure out what had startled him awake.  He looked down at the bed and saw Joe still appeared to be asleep.    He had kept his eyes on the young man for a few seconds longer when he heard the young man groan and try to move about again.   Part of him wanted to jump about with relief that the boy was showing some signs of consciousness. 

 

The other part of him became immediately worried when he saw the thin sheen of sweat glisten on Joe’s forehead.  He gently laid a hand on Joe’s forehead and gasped outwards at the heat that was now radiating from the young man’s body.  It hadn’t been there an hour ago.  The fact that the fever had started worried him, though at the moment it didn’t feel too bad. Doc Martin had said that there might be some fever to fight the injuries.  

 

He tossed  and turned it over in his mind for a few more seconds, wondering whether or not to wake Adam.  Another small groan of pain from Joe now convinced the big man of his earlier thought, and he quickly went to the door and then gently rapped on Adam’s bedroom door.

 

“Adam,” Hoss now said in a whisper.  He was mindful of waking his father and kept looking back and forth towards Ben’s door the whole time he was waiting for Adam.   He was now greeted at the door by a bleary- eyed, shirtless Adam.  Adam looked as though he had slept very little.  Now looking at Hoss’s worried face at the door, Adam instantly shook the last remnants of sleep and grabbed a shirt before following Hoss to see what was going on.

 

As Adam and Hoss walked into Joe’s bedroom, the young man was once again moaning, but this time he was getting more determined in his efforts and was trying to move in the bed.   His moaning was becoming more persistent and louder and the movement in the bed more frequent.  Hoss and Adam were instantly concerned that Joe would roll enough to cause himself more pain.   Adam sat at the head of the bed and tried to talk soothingly to his still sleeping brother in an attempt to calm him down in to a more restful sleep.

 

“Shssh, its alright, little buddy.  Everything’s alright.  Big brother’s here, go back to sleep.  You’re safe now,” Adam said, as he gently caressed Joe’s forehead.  He brushed the damp curls back and noted with concern Hoss’s earlier observation of the fever that had started.

 

“Hoss, could you please go and get a basin of cool water and wash cloth” Adam said, as he continued the calming actions on Joe.

 

“He gonna be alright, Adam?” Hoss said, the worry clearly evident on his face. 

 

“Sure he is, Hoss.  But we need to get this fever down as quick as possible,” he said. “Now please go and get the basin of water.  Then I want you to go and get some sleep,” as he noted the tiredness in Hoss’s body posture.

 

“I don’t know whether I could sleep anyway, Adam,” Hoss said, as he headed towards the door to get the things that Adam asked for. 

 

“Well, you are certainly going to try, Hoss,” Adam now said firmly, not wanting to let his brother go any further without rest for himself.  He knew that Hoss was like his father in many ways, and both of them would continue to care for Little Joe without so much as a thought for their own health.  The care was going to have to be shared over the next couple of weeks by the three of them and Hop Sing.

 

Hoss was soon back with the basin of water and a soft wash cloth “It isn’t very cold, I’m afraid, Adam,” he said with a little tone of dejection in his voice.  “Its the best I could get at the moment,” he said.  He now watched as Adam carefully wet the cloth sufficiently in the tepid water and then wrung out the excess so that it was only just damp.

 

“You go and get some sleep, big guy,” Adam said to Hoss as he gently laid the cloth of Joe’s heated forehead.  The coolness of the cloth seemed to have some effect though, as they watched Joe’s closed eyelids flutter.  For a few seconds it looked as though Joe might be trying to wake up.  His eyelids fluttered a few more times and Joe moved his head back and forth on the pillow a few times.   A few more soothing words from Adam, and Joe appeared to slip back into the world of sleep once again.

 

Adam looked up at Hoss and saw that the big man needed to be sure that his little brother was going to be alright before he even thought about having some rest.

 

“Go get some sleep, Hoss,” Adam said gently.  For once, Hoss just nodded his head in agreement and headed towards the door, stealing a last glance at the sleeping boy in the bed before he finally exited and went to his own bedroom.

 

For the next three hours or so, it looked as though Adam’s care was indeed doing the trick to keep Joe nice and calm in his sleep.  He wasn’t sure about the fever though.  Even with all the cool compresses he had applied, the fever still not had abated and if anything had increased in temperature over the last hour or so.  Adam now noticed that the warm water was having no effect on the fever anymore.  He got up and took the basin downstairs, ready to refill it with some cooler water.

 

Adam had refilled the basin and was about halfway up the stairs when he and the rest of the Cartwright household heard the blood-curdling scream that came from Joe’s room.   Adam almost dropped the basin of water at the scream and managed to soak the legs of his trousers.   He didn’t even stop to worry about that, though, as he, Hoss and Ben all raced into the room to see what had upset the boy so much.

 

Ben had been in a fitful sleep in his room when he heard the scream.  He was instantly awake and racing towards his injured son’s room.  He saw Adam on the stairs with a basin of water and Hoss was coming out of his bedroom as well.

 

All three entered the room and saw Joe tossing and turning violently in the bed.  It looked as though he was trying to fight of someone or something.  Every now and then there would be some incoherent words uttered.   Some of them sounded like “Keep away” and “Don’t…. please, don’t”.

 

Ben was immediately sitting on the spot where Adam had been.  He reached over, and being as gentle as he could, he pulled the boy into his embrace.   Just as Ben managed to put his arms around the trembling boy though, it was almost as if Joe was trying to get away from Ben. 

 

In his sleep, the confused boy was pulled at Ben’s arms and telling him to leave him alone.  It was soon obvious to all in the room that the rising fever had trapped the injured boy in his own nightmares, making them come to life once again.  He was trying to fight the very people that loved and cared for him so much.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ben was determined to be there for the boy, though, even if he pushed him away at first.   After what the boy had been through, he supposed it was only natural for the boy to dread human contact of any sort.  Ben once again wrapped his arms around the struggling boy and held on somewhat tighter this time.   Joe continued to utter words like “Stop it” and “Keep away” again, but the struggles soon became weaker. 

 

Whether it was because Joe recognized the security and warmth of his father or whether it was purely due to physical exhaustion, the boy ceased to try and get away.  Now the boy lay in his father’s arms and fell back into a restless sleep.  He still muttered incoherent words, but they soon faded to nothing more than occasional moans and then finally into silence as sleep gained a stronger hold on the his mind.

 

“You boys go down and get some coffee and breakfast,” Ben now said to Adam and Hoss.  The dawn was just starting to peak through the curtains in Joe’s room, signalling the beginning of a new day.  He didn’t intend to send the boys out to work today.  Apart from the lack of sleep of both of them, there wasn’t much work to do back at home over the next week or so.

 

Downstairs, in the kitchen, Hop Sing had just started to make breakfast when Hoss and Adam arrived at the table.  The little Cantonese man made sure that there were two pots of strong black coffee on the table this morning.  He also made a third, smaller pot, for Ben and a small bowl of broth for Joe, in case the boy awoke shortly.  They needed to keep up the boy’s nourishment if they wanted his injuries to heal well.

 

Adam and Hoss were sitting at the table, not really saying much, when there was a knock at the front door.  Adam wondered who would be knocking this early in the morning. Maybe it was Doc Martin, back to check on his patient.

 

Adam and Hoss were both surprised when Sheriff Roy Coffee greeted them from the other side of the door “Mornin’ boys,” he said, as cheerily as possible.  “How’s Joe today?” he asked in a more subdued tone.

 

“As well as can be expected, Roy,” Adam said with little emotion in his voice.  “You’re out here early though, Roy,” Adam said now, suddenly curious about the lawman’s early visit.  Maybe he had information about Joe’s kidnappers.

 

 

 

 

“Just came out to talk to your Pa about those other fellows wanted for Joe’s kidnapping,” Roy said.  “And to check how Joe was going,” he added genuinely.  Joe held a special place in his heart, and it angered him greatly that such an unjust and inhuman thing had happened to such an energetic and caring boy.

 

“Pa’s a might busy with Joe right now, Roy,” Adam said not wanting to disturb Ben from his needed duties upstairs.  “I can give him a message, though, if you like”

 

“That would be good if you could, Adam.  I feel right guilty that I don’t have much more information for your family.  Just came out to tell you that Griffiths still refuses to tell anybody who his partners were.  I have tried to find any clues that I can from him, but unless he gives me a name, I’m at a standstill for the time being.  Sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Roy said, as he nervously played with his hat in his hands.  “I wish I had better new to give you and your family.”

 

“We know that you are doing your best, Roy,” Hoss said.  He meant what he said, but he didn’t know how his father was going to react to the face that the man who had done this to Joe was still being free.  Futhermore, what was such information going to do to Little Joe? 

 

“Little Joe probably won’t be able to give you any information for a few days, Roy,” Adam now said, trying to clear the air.  “He is still in a lot of pain and hasn’t fully been able to talk to us yet about what happened.  He started to run a fever this morning.  Doc Martin says he will be back out later on today.”

 

“Well, give my regards to your father and especially to Little Joe for me.  I haven’t given up on this, Adam.  I aim to get the animal that did this to Little Joe,” Roy said, as he exited through the front door.

 

“I’ll let you know as soon as Paul says its alright for Joe to talk to you, Roy,” Adam said finally and closed the front door behind the Sheriff.

 

“What are we going to tell Little Joe?” Hoss blurted out, not knowing any other way than to just say it straight.

 

“I think it best that we don’t, not at the moment, Hoss,” Adam replied honestly “I don’t think our boy is in any condition for information like that at the moment.  Hopefully he’s still asleep.  I suggest we tell Pa and let Joe know when the doctor thinks he can handle such things.  He needs to worry about getting himself well again before wondering about where the man is that did it.”

 

Hoss nodded his head in agreement, and they both headed up the stairs towards Joe’s room.

 

What they didn’t know was that  Joe had awoken not long after they left to go downstairs for breakfast.   As they climbed the stairs to his room, Little Joe was lying still in his father’s arms, but with his eyes closed, just enjoying the security and protection.

 

A few minutes earlier upstairs ………………….

 

Ben had been thinking to himself about the last few days when he felt his young son moving about on the bed.  He looked down, but allowed the young man to wake on his own and get his bearings before overwhelming him with questions.

 

As Joe slowly opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his father’s familiar face.  He blinked a few times and tried to sit up.  The moment only brought a grimace to his face, and when he tried to smile at his father about trying to move too quickly, even that caused him pain as his muscles protested enormously about the physical efforts of moving.  

 

There wasn’t a space on his body that didn’t hurt at the moment.  His eyes felt gritty and sore as though he hadn’t been to sleep for days.  He knew, however, by the look on his father’s face and the stiffness that existed in his body that he had been asleep for a long time.

 

“Hello, son,” Ben said gently.

 

Joe tried to reply with a hello of his own, but the words were caught in his dry, sore throat.  His put his hand to the rope burns around his neck and remembered what the rope had felt like, choking him.   He motioned for something to drink.  Ben reached over without moving from his position and brought a cup of water to his son’s dry lips.

 

Joe took it slow at first due to the pain he felt when swallowing.  The water felt good and soothed his raw throat.  He knew that he shouldn’t drink too much in case he would get sick from it and withdrew when he thought he had had enough.  Ben saw his son’s withdrawal and placed the half-filled cup back on the nightstand.

 

“Hello, Pa,” Joe croaked out through his raw throat as he laid his curly head on Ben’s chest.   He closed his eyes and tried to just rest without all the memories flooding back into his mind. 

 

 

 

Ben could see that his son was still hurting both emotionally and physically.  He knew that Joe would need a good deal of time before he would be ready to talk about what happened to him when he was taken.  Ben was content just to let the boy rest;  there would be enough time for talk later.  At the moment Joe just needed to heal his physical injuries and then worry about the emotional scars that might be left behind.   The fever was still present and it was still a cause for concern for Ben.  It hadn’t risen too much, but it also hadn’t decreased, despite the family’s vigilant attempts to cool Joe down with the cool compresses.

 

This is how Adam and Hoss found the two of them as they entered Joe’s bedroom.  Both them smiled and thought how content they looked at the moment.  Joe still looked asleep and because of this Adam decided to tell Ben about Roy’s information.  Joe had heard his brothers enter the room, but he didn’t make any indication to them that he had awoken up just a short time ago.

 

“Roy was just here, Pa,” Adam said in a whisper so as not to wake his still sleeping brother.  “Said that Griffiths won’t talk.  They still don’t have any idea about where the other men are,” he said.

 

It was at this comment that Joe’s eyes suddenly came open.   He couldn’t hide the fear that he felt thinking that somewhere out there, Butch Thomas was still alive and well.  Probably waiting and watching.  Waiting until the right moment to take him away from his family again.  After all, Joe was the only one who knew his true identity at the moment.

 

Adam immediately saw the reaction to his words and regretted that he hadn’t checked first that the boy was truly asleep.

 

“Sorry, Pa, I didn’t realise he was awake,” Adam said, as he still watched Joe to try and gauge the boy’s state of mind.

 

Ben could feel the small tremors that were now running through his youngest son’s shoulders.  The boy now made an active effort to try and move away from his father and hide the fear on his face from his family.  His throat became dry again from the mere thought of Butch Thomas, still free to roam about as he pleased and torture his mind to no end.

 

“Its alright son, your brothers and I are here.  Nobody is going to hurt you again, I promise,” Ben said in soothing but firm tones so that his words held the meaning he intended for his son. 

 

 

 

 

Joe now turned painfully to his opposite side, determined not to let his family see his distress about the information he had just heard.  He ignored all their attempts to reassure him that everything would be alright.  Deep down he knew that he would never have peace of mind with Butch Thomas still out there free.

 

Hop Sing now arrived in the room with the broth he had prepared for Little Joe.  He could see that the boy was upset about something, and Ben told him about Adam’s untimely message from Roy Coffee.

 

“Boy need eat,” the little oriental man stated and moved over to the opposite side of the bed so that Joe could see him.

 

“Everybody go downstairs for coffee.  Hop Sing take care of Little Joe,” Hop Sing now said, sensing there was a lot more to Joe’s sullen mood. 

 

“Alright, boys, lets go downstairs for that coffee.  I sure could use a cup.  Hop Sing, I will be right back when I have finished, though,” Ben said, indicating that he had no intentions of leaving his injured son for more than was necessary.   Ben, though, saw the need in the little oriental man’s eyes that said Hop Sing wanted to find out what was going on inside Little Joe.  From past experience, he knew that Joe was likely to open up to the little servant before any of the other family members.

 

Ben, Adam and Hoss walked out of the bedroom but then stole themselves just outside the door to try and catch a word or two of the conversation about to take place in the room.

 

Hop Sing now placed the bowl of broth on the bedside table, determined to feed Joe’s tortured soul before his empty stomach.

 

“Mao shiez co xen Tajoe?” Hop Sing now said to Joe who still had his face turned away towards the wall. (Why Lil’ Joe so sad?)

 

The men waiting on the other side of the bedroom doorway had no idea what Hop Sing had just said.  They were even more surprised when the answer came back in his native tongue.   For years they had all suspected that Joe could understand Hop Sing’s tirades better than he let on.  Now it was being confirmed with the fluent and coherent Cantonese words coming in Joe’s own voice.

 

“Seng wix dao benqas,” Joe replied in a whisper.  (Not sad ……. scared!)

 

“Scared of what?” Hop Sing now asked in English.

 

Ben and the others outside were dismayed by Joe’s admission, but put their ears closer to the door so that they could hear the reason for his fear.  Although they had a general idea, they were hoping that Hop Sing’s probing might come up with more clues to try and find the men responsible.

 

“You don’t understand, Hop Sing, nobody does,” Joe said with an edge of frustration in his voice.  The boy now turned to face the other person in the move.  The movement caused him to cry out as his sore and bruised ribs protested ever so loudly.

 

“Tell Hop Sing how to help,” Hop Sing asked, noting the efforts the boy was making to talk, but noticing the fatigue still etched on his young face and the fever spots still present on his cheeks. 

 

“You can’t help, Hop Sing.  That’s just it.  Nobody can fight this but me.  At the moment I just don’t see the reason for fighting.  I’ll be still lying in this bed waiting for those men to come back.  And when they come, they will try and take me away again, maybe for good this time.  Maybe it would be easier just to let them come. I hurt all over, Hop Sing.   I can’t even take a breath without coughing from the tightness in my chest,” Joe said, trying to hold back the tears of frustration that were threatening.

 

“Father and brothers and Hop Sing here to make sure nobody hurt you, Lil Joe,” Hop Sing answered, trying to reassure the boy’s fears about the men coming back to hurt him.  Ben and his sons nodded their heads in agreement, wishing they, too, could say some comforting words to the distraught boy.

 

“Couldn’t stop them last time,” Joe said in an uninterested voice and then proceeded to roll painfully back over onto his side, signalling that he no longer wished to continue the conversation.  Joe closed his eyes and welcomed the arms of sleep that reached out to him.  Even as he slept now, Hop Sing could see the thin film of sweat reappearing on his fevered brow.  He spent the next couple of moments placing the cool cloth back on the boy’s forehead.   He wanted desperately to help heal the boy’s mind and heart as well as his body. 

 

“You come back in now, Mr Cartwright, and take care of boy.  Hop Sing bring you coffee” Hop Sing now said, as he looked up with a grin.  He knew that the others were waiting outside the doorway the whole time but only chose now to let them know it.

 

 

 

 

“How did you know we was there, Hop Sing?” Hoss said in confusion.  He was sure that the three of them had kept relatively quiet during the whole thing.  He was sure that Hop Sing wouldn’t have been able to see them from his position in the room.  Just how did he know that they were all listening?

 

“Hop Sing not be fooled, Mr Hoss,” Hop Sing said with a smile and then went downstairs to worry about the coffee he had promised to bring.

 

Ben walked back over to the bed, running Joe’s words back through his head over and over again.  He wanted the boy to wake up and talk to him about what was bothering him.  He felt guilty about Joe’s accusation that the kidnappers had been able to take him away without the family being there to prevent it.  It hurt him deeply to think that he and his boys hadn’t been there to help the boy in his time of need.  He would somehow have to prove to the boy that he, Adam and Hoss would do everything in their power to protect him, no matter what. 

 

Adam and Hoss chose to go outside and talk about things whilst attending to some of the daily chores in the yard. They knew that there were other hands able to do the work, but it kept their minds on something else for a time.  They both spoke briefly about their own concerns for Joe’s health and peace of mind.  They both promised to talk to the boy when he was better, too.

 

Doc Martin arrived later that afternoon and had been informed of Joe’s negative attitude before climbing the stairs.  He promised Ben to talk to the boy also about his fears and concerns about the kidnappers coming back to take him away again.  When he got to Joe’s room however, talk was the last thing on Paul’s mind as he surveyed the scene before him.   He could see the fever that Ben had told him to have started the previous night. 

 

However, the doctor was now concerned with the rise in temperature that had occurred in a few short hours.  The boy was definitely much sicker, and when Paul put his hand on the boy’s forehead, Joe could scarcely open his eyes in response due to the weakened state he found himself in.   He briefly opened them, but then quickly closed them tight to shut out the light that shone into them and then appeared to fall back asleep, exhausted even from that slight effort.

 

“Ben, we need to get this fever down and quickly,” Paul said, as he went about setting his medical bag down and searching through it for what he needed.

 

“This is going to be most unpleasant, but it should work,” Paul now said, as he held up a small tube of medicine.

 

“You’re going to have to hold him, Hoss,” Paul said now motioning for the two brothers to play their part in helping Joe. “Hold his body very still.  I still don’t want him moving around with those bruised ribs and that injured leg of his.”

 

“Adam, I want you to force his mouth open so that I can squeeze some of these drops into his mouth,” Paul said, walking towards his sleeping patient.

 

“Is that quinine, Paul?” Ben asked, fully knowing the medicine’s uses.

 

“Yes, it is, Ben, and you know how he is going to react to the vile taste, but we need to get that fever down.  His body is already exhausted and weak from his injuries.  We can’t risk him getting any worse or the fever climbing too high.”

 

Hoss and Adam both took a deep breath to get ready for the awful task they were about to become involved in.  Both of them knew that the medicine was necessary, but both of them felt that they were somehow betraying their little brother by subjecting him to such horrific remedies.

 

Hoss firmly held Joe’s legs onto the bed, mindful of not touching the bandaged area. Adam put his hands gently but firmly on other side of his younger brother’s fevered face.  Adam could feel the heat in Joe’s skin and prayed that the quinine would indeed bring relief that was needed.  He now pulled Joe’s mouth open sufficiently for the doctor to be able to drop the medicine into.

 

Joe could feel someone touching his face and tried to bring his hand up to see who it was. His eyes remained closed, but his forehead turned downwards with a frown when he found feel someone now restraining those hands.   He immediately opened his eyes and began panicking that he was back under the control of Butch Thomas and his men.   He could now see, though, that it was his own family that were restraining him.  This confused him even more and started to make him angry.

 

“What are you doing?” he demanded in a voice that was no more than a whisper.   “Let me go!” he said in a louder but croakier voice. “Pa, tell them to let me go,” he said, now trying to turn his face towards his father.

 

Ben was at the base of the bed, and the sound of Joe’s pleas to let him go were almost ripping his heart out, but he knew that the doctor had to give him the medicine.

 

“It will be all over in a minute, Joe,” Ben said, trying to calm his son down.  Paul knew that he wouldn’t have much longer  and so quickly moved towards the bed and without so much as telling his patient what he was about to do, dropped four drops of the foul medicine into Joe’s open mouth.

 

Adam was forced to let go as Joe immediately tried to turn onto his side and spit out the vile taste.  Most of the medicine had managed to slip down his raw throat.  What he could taste was the bitter aftertaste that the quinine had.  The taste made Joe almost gag until he was sick to his stomach.   Paul brought a glass of water to Joe’s lips and offered a small mouthful to wash away the medicine, but the rebelling action of his stomach quickly brought the water back up again onto the bed clothes.

 

Joe now laid back, exhausted, tired, sick to his stomach from the quinine, hot from the fever and most of all, angry.   He didn’t understand why his family was doing this to him after he had been through such a rough time.  His leg was throbbing almost insistently and he could scarcely keep from crying out at the pain sometimes.

 

“Would you like something for the pain, Joe?” Paul asked, as he saw his young patient grimace and grit his teeth from his leg wound. 

 

“I don’t want anything from you ……………. any of you,” Joe said hotly and turned his face away from his family.  The exhaustion and fever soon took its toll, though, and Joe was soon drifting back off into an uneasy sleep.  His forehead was becoming damp again from the fever.

 

“Adam, you lift him off while Hoss and I change the bed linen,” Ben said now as he watched his son sleep.   He understood his son’s anger and resentment, but hoped that when the boy was feeling better he would understand the steps needed to be taken to make him well again. 

 

“Don’t worry, Ben, the quinine will help, and he will be well again in no time,” Paul said, as he placed a comforting hand on Ben’s shoulder.  “He’s weak and in pain, he didn’t really mean what he said.”

 

“I know he’s hurting, Paul.  That’s what makes me so angry.  To think that the animals that did this are still free out there while Joe is laying in bed sick and in pain.  I swear to God, Paul, I wouldn’t know what I would do if I came face to face with those men right now. I try to tell myself that justice will prevail and that everything will work out alright.  But where’s the justice in this for Joe?  How can I look him in the eye and make him believe what I say when I don’t really believe it myself?” Ben said with sadness in his voice.

 

“Come on, old friend, let’s make him more comfortable,” Paul said.  Adam lifted his still sleeping brother from his bed and went about changing Joe’s nightshirt while Ben and the others changed the sheets and pillows.

 

“He will probably sleep for quite a while with the fever, Ben.  He won’t feel very much like eating, unfortunately, but at least try to keep the water and fluids up to him.  Water, Milk, Juice, any liquids to replace what he is losing through the fever.  He should start to improve by the end of tomorrow.  He will still be weak, but by then, hopefully, the boy will feel like eating a little to help regain his strength.  You will have to be patient, but also vigilant and firm when he refuses.  I will come back out tomorrow with something to help him get back on his feet a little,” Paul said with a wink.  He wanted to leave this little idea as a surprise to the whole family until tomorrow.

 

“See you tomorrow Ben.  And try not to worry too much,” Paul said, knowing that Ben wouldn’t stop worrying until Joe was back to his old self again.

 

Hoss saw the doctor to the door, while Adam and Ben settled Joe back into the freshly made bed.

 

***********************************************************

 

The rest of the night panned out pretty slowly for the Cartwright family.  The eldest three kept a vigil over the youngest.   They all sighed in relief at about 1.00 am when it seemed that the medication had done its job just like Paul Martin said it would.  Joe’s fever finally started to decrease, and he was almost cool to the touch by dawn’s early light. 

 

The decrease in temperature saw Joe finally drift off into a healing sleep.  His head was now deeper in the pillow and his breathing became more relaxed and even.  The angry redness in his leg had now subsided somewhat, allowing the full extent of bruising to show through the skin.  The stitches held in place well, and the wound looked very clean.    The only question would be about how much effort it would take Joe to regain full mobility once he was given permission to put any weight back on the leg.

 

Through most of the next day, Joe seemed to be gaining some strength back.   He was able to sit up for short periods of time in bed without tiring so easily.  He was eating a little more and drinking more fluids, which were encouraging signs for his family. 

 

The signs that weren’t encouraging included the sullen mood that seemed to engulf him the whole time.   He jumped from fright at the slightest unsuspected noises and he always had a wary look in his eyes when someone entered the room.  It was as if he were expecting somebody else other than his family to walk in.

 

Ben and his sons noted the mood and cautiousness without worrying Joe about it.  They would wait until Paul Martin returned later in the afternoon to discuss the matter with him.  

 

By the time Paul did pulled up outside in the yard in his buggy, Joe had been asleep for about two hours.  It was late afternoon, and the sun was just beginning to set behind the hills.  Paul got out of his buggy and, in addition to carrying his black medical bag, he carried two strange-looking sticks in the other hand.

 

Ben looked curiously at the contraptions as Paul made his way into the living room and set his bag down.  He still held onto the poles and gave Ben a grin of pride when he looked up and saw his old friend’s curiosity at what he held.

 

“What have you got there, Paul? ” Ben now asked.  His two sons were standing behind him, awaiting the reply.

 

“Are they crutches for Joe?” Adam now asked, having seen crude forms in the past in a few places that he had travelled to.

 

“They are indeed, Adam,” Paul said telling himself that he should have realised that a well-educated man like Adam would be able to guess at what they were.  “These are hopefully going to see your young brother back on his feet sooner than he would normally, without such help” the doctor explained.

 

“How do they work, Paul?” Ben asked, a little dubious about such things being trialled on his son without him knowing much about them. 

 

“You put your arms over these cross pieces, like this, Ben,” Paul said, as he crudely tried to show Ben how to work the crutches without breaking them.  He had had them made especially for somebody with Joe’s slight stature in mind, so he didn’t want to put all of his weight on them and risk breaking them before Little Joe even got a chance to use them.

 

 

 

 

“They will help Joe keep his weight off that injured leg.  He will be able to move around a lot more freely than he would be able to without them.  Don’t get me wrong, though, he will still be limited in some of the activities he will be able to do, but hopefully they will give him some hope as to his leg healing properly,” Paul now explained.

 

Paul now became more serious as he prepared to climb the stairs and see how his young patient was fairing.   “How is Joseph anyway, Ben?” Paul asked, as Ben followed him up to his son’s room.

 

“That’s why I am so happy to see you, Paul,” Ben began as they entered the room.  They were not surprised to see Joe still asleep.  “Lately he seems so withdrawn from the rest of the family.  I know he has been sick and in a lot of pain, but over the last day or so, as he has begun showing signs of healing, his self-esteem and emotional seem to have taken a dive.   He doesn’t want to talk to anybody, he barely picks at the food that we bring him on the plate and he always seems to be stealing looks towards the window and door every now and then as if to make sure that a stranger isn’t going to enter the room.  He appears very afraid and won’t open the window in the slightest or draw the curtains to let the light in the room.”

 

“Well, some of what you say is to be expected, Ben,” Paul said making a mental note of everything that Ben said.  “I suspect he will have some issues about being away from his family and in particular about being in this house even for quite some time to come.  He was taken from his family and home by force, and it is going to take some time for him to get over that.  The eating is a little worrisome and hopefully, between us, all we can find a solution so that he gets the nutrition that he needs to heal fully.  I think the insecurity and lack of confidence may last longer than I first suspected,” Paul now added.  “Let’s take a look at him and see if we can get him to open up to us a little, shall we?”

 

Paul walked over to the bed and sat facing Joe, who was laying turned on his side. Ben sat on the opposite side.  “Joseph,” he said softly at first and gave the boy a gentle shake with a hand on his shoulder.  When it appeared that he didn’t hear or didn’t want to hear Paul tried a little harder this time “Little Joe,” he said a little louder and the shake was a little firmer.

 

Joe slowly opened his eyes and seemed confused at first.  That was until that feeling that someone stranger was suddenly in the room had passed, and then his eyes took on that timid appearance again as he darted his gaze around the room as though startled.  It took a few seconds for his brain to register that the person sitting on the bed wasn’t a stranger at all.  

He tried to shake the remaining fog from his mind and attempted to roll over a little and pull himself up into a sitting position.  He grunted a little with the effort and then found he couldn’t roll over too far due to his father’s position on the other side.

 

“Hi, Doc,” he said with a small voice.  “Pa?”.

 

“I’m here, son,” Ben said, reading that his son needed to know that he was in the room. 

 

“How are you feeling, young man?” Paul now asked while trying to gauge Joe’s every facial movement for a deception or playing down of any pain he might be really feeling.  Truth was, though, Joe didn’t try and hide his grunts of pain or his winces that escaped his lips while he moved about on the bed. 

 

“A little sore, but mostly fine,” Joe answered after half a minute or so.   He took the glass of water Ben offered and drank the contents gratefully.

 

“Let’s just take a look at those bruises and your leg and see, shall we,” Paul now said.  Joe sat stoic through the whole episode.  He didn’t say anything to the doctor about being poked and prodded and only winced a little when the touching became painful or the doctor found a tender spot.   He just waited patiently until the doctor was finished his work.

 

“That leg is healing nicely, Joe, but it will still be a few weeks before you can put your full weight back on it,” Paul now advised him.  All the time his mind was really asking what the quiet, withdrawn mood in Joe was telling him about how his patient was feeling.

 

“Doesn’t look like I will be getting out of here in a hurry then does it?” Joe replied with a question.  His voice betrayed him, though, as he sounded barely interested in the subject of him being allowed out of bed.  It was almost like the reply was rehearsed before Paul and his father came into the room.

 

“Ah, that’s where you are wrong, young man,” Paul said with a grin and motioned for Ben to pass him the surprise that he had carried into the room for Joe.  “I’ve got something here that will see you getting about just fine before your leg is fully healed.”

 

Joe looked at the doctor as though he didn’t really believe him, but didn’t say anything to the contrary.  “What are you going to give me…….. wings?” he said in an almost sarcastic tone.  He just wanted to be left alone, and the sooner the better.

 

“No, not quite, but something better,” Paul said, trying to keep the tone of the conversation cheerful and light.  “I am going to give you artificial legs, Joe,” Paul said now holding up the wooden crutches for him to see.  Both the doctor and Ben sat quietly for a moment and waited to see what Joe’s reaction to the new devices would be.

 

Joe did look at them, saying nothing.  He looked them up and down and knew what they were.  He had heard about them being used by other children who couldn’t use their own legs to walk.   He had even seen them being used on an occasion or two.  He looked back at the doctor and then at his father, knowing that they were waiting for him to say something about them.  They wanted him to be happy about them being a gift.  Joe had other thoughts about them.

 

“Oh, just great,” Joe said in a less than impressed tone of voice.  “If I don’t kill myself by trying to get around on them, I’ll probably get beaten to death by others in town, telling me that Virginia City is no place for a damned cripple”. He turned his face away, a little cranky a himself for being such a baby about the whole thing and trying to hide the tears that were welling up in his eyes.

 

Ben was half-tempted to say something to his son about his choice of language but knew that a reprimand would only see the boy slip further into his self-induced state of depression.

 

“I’m sorry, Joe,” Paul now said gently, trying to pull Joe out of his own self-pity.  “People won’t laugh or make fun of you, though.  I just thought you could use something to help you get outside of these four walls in the next couple of weeks.  I know how you must be itching to get out of that bed by now,” he added.

 

For the first time since Paul had come into the room, the fear was now nakedly evident on Joe’s face as he turned back to face them after hearing the words “leave his room”.   His mind was telling him that the only place safe and secure at the moment was his own room.  If he stayed in his room, nobody could take him away from his family again.  If he stayed in his room, he could see people coming and going and control the situation at hand.  If he left his room, that’s when things would change and go beyond his control.  That’s when people like Butch Thomas came into his life.  No, he didn’t want to leave his room, not ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ben and Paul saw the fear on Joe’s face and now knew some of the thoughts in Joe’s mind.  What the truth really was behind the sarcasm and unkind words.  They were coming from somebody who feared a man.  A man that had taken him away from his family and savagely beat him.  A man that he had been told was still free and his whereabouts unknown.  

 

“Are you afraid that the man who did this to you will come back, Joseph?” Ben now asked, putting his hand on the trembling boy’s shoulder.  He caught a glimpse of the slight nod from his son before Joe buried his head in his father’s chest and cried out his frustrations. 

 

He didn’t mean to sound like such a baby in front of them.  He didn’t want them knowing how scared he was.  He couldn’t help it, though.  Every time a gust of wind blew the curtain up in his room, he found himself wanting to dive under the covers or under the bed in case it was Thomas coming back.

 

Paul and Ben waited until Joe was a little more under control before continuing their discussion about the crutches.   “Joe, you just take your time with these.  Use them when you are ready.   They may take a little getting used to at first and a little practice to master.  But once you have had a few turns, you should do fine.   I want you to keep the weight off that leg of yours for the next two weeks at least.  Hopefully by then, the stitches will be ready to come out and I will let you know after that when you can walk freely again.”

 

“Thanks, Doc,” Joe said, sheepishly trying to apologize for his weakness without actually saying the words. 

 

“I’ll see you in two days, Joe, until then you just worry about taking care of yourself.  I am sure that your family will keep you safe,” Paul said, trying to reassure the boy. 

 

“Ben, can I talk to you outside for a minute?” Paul now asked.  

 

“I’ll be right back, Joseph,” Ben said to his son.   “We can talk in a minute.”

 

Joe now sat back against the pillows whilst the doctor and his father went outside to talk about things that they didn’t want him to hear.   He just stared at the ceiling and tried to concentrate on keeping his mind blank and keep it from wandering again.  He didn’t want to tell his father about the nightmare he had been having shortly before Ben had come into the room with the doctor.   It was the same one again. The one where Butch Thomas came back and took him away from his family and home.   He didn’t know how to stop it from coming back again and again.

 

“What are we going to do, Paul?” Ben now asked, as the two men descended the stairs.

 

Hoss overheard the words and was concerned for his younger brother’s welfare.  “What’s wrong, Pa?  Anything I can do?” he asked.

 

“Yes, just go and sit with your younger brother until I see Doc Martin off, would you, Hoss?” Ben said to his large son. 

 

“I know its going to be a long and difficult process, Ben,” Paul began.  “We are just going to have to try and coax the boy out of his shell slowly.  Little bit by little bit. Now, the hardest thing I am going to ask you to do from today onwards is to give him some space to re-find his sense of independency.”

 

“At the moment he is feeling very vulnerable and afraid, I know.  But, for the next couple of nights, I want you, Hoss and Adam to sleep in your own rooms.  I don’t mean don’t check on him every now and then to see if he is alright and get what he needs.  But I want him to start relying on himself again, just a little.  Hopefully, once the ball gets rolling and he realises that he must depend on himself some of the time, he will just naturally return to the old Joe Cartwright that we have come to love and miss so much.  Its going to take willpower for you and your boys, Ben, but for Joe’s sake, you have to try,” Paul explained.

 

“Are you sure that’s the right thing to do, Paul?” Ben said, hating the idea of not being there for Joe’s full recovery.

 

“No, I am not sure, Ben, but I have seen enough today to know that we need to help that boy find his mischievous self again.  I miss his smile and laughter.  Don’t you?” Paul said teasingly to his old friend.

 

“More than you know,” Ben answered truthfully.

 

Paul Martin now left the Ponderosa in his buggy and headed back towards Virginia City.  As he secured his buggy and horse for the day, he found himself coming face to face with Butch Thomas.   Paul didn’t know the man, but politely said hello when he saw him standing on the edge of the verandah to his office.

 

“Hello, friend,” came Paul’s friendly reply.  He had no idea that he was saying hello to the man who had brought so much pain and misery to the young patient he had just examined.

 

“Hello, doctor,” Thomas replied as he casually blew a ring of smoke from his cigar.   Thomas had come back to town two days after Little Joe was found.  He was curious to know just how his young victim was faring.   When he hadn’t heard about a funeral for the youngest Cartwright member, he smiled to himself and wondered if the boy wasn’t made of a little sturdier stuff than he first thought.   “Say, Doc, are you the man who has been tending that hurt young fellow?” Thomas now asked, trying to sound as harmless as possible.

 

Paul now stopped to talk to the man “You mean Little Joe Cartwright?” Paul asked, wondering why this man was showing an interest in the boy.

 

“Just a terrible thing that I heard happened to that boy, that’s all, and I just wanted to ask if he was going to be alright,” Thomas said giving his best naïve smile. 

 

“Yes, is was a terrible thing that happened,” Paul said, relaxing a little now at the man’s concern for Joe’s welfare.  “I don’t think there would be a man or woman in this town who doesn’t have a bad word to say about those fellows, wherever they are.   Joe is recovering, to answer your question.  He still has a long way to go before healing fully, but he is making progress.  Good day, Mr………,” Paul said, now curious about the stranger’s name.

 

“Mr Smith,” Thomas answered straight away, trying to ease the doctor’s raised sense of curiosity.  “Mr Bill Smith.”

 

“Mr Smith” Paul said and then went into his office to carry on with his daily tasks.

 

Thomas smiled inwardly to himself.  “Maybe there’s one man in this town, Doc,” he commented to himself and now walked away from the building, trying to figure out when to make his next move where the boy was concerned.

 

***********************************************************

 

Back at the Ponderosa, as painful as it was to him, Ben explained to Hoss and Adam about how the doctor wanted to approach Joe’s fear.  It was explained to them that Paul wanted them to let Joe become a little more independent and slowly encourage him deal with what had happened to him.  Hopefully, it would come to the point where Joe opened up to one of his family, and then the true healing process could begin.

 

 

 

For the rest of the afternoon and most of  that evening, Ben tried to encourage Joe to come downstairs and join the family for the evening meal.  He knew that his son was still hurting in a lot of places and that Joe would need help first to manoeuvre the stairs and then to manage to get to the table, but his family told him that they would be there to support him both physically and mentally until he felt stronger.

 

The words seem to fall on deaf ears, though, as Joe pressed his lips together into a fine line of refusal and shook his head with his answer.   Inside his head, all he could hear was the sound of his own voice, telling him what would happen if  he left the security of his own room.   At least within such a confined space he had control.  If he ventured downstairs into somewhere else, it would be just like back at the abandoned shack, and things might occur that he didn’t have that control over.

 

Ben and his boys sadly didn’t push Joe much harder about coming downstairs.  They reminded themselves that they would have to keep trying over the next few days.   Usually, when Joe was recovering from an illness or injury, the family together with Doc Martin had to use all sorts of threats to keep him in bed until he was healed enough.  Now, when they thought he was recovering physically enough to be allowed out of bed, Joe was withdrawing into himself even more.

 

It took all of their willpower to sit downstairs with Joe upstairs on his own.  Ben forced himself to complete the evening meal without checking on his youngest son.  The feelings though became overwhelming once they had retired to the living room for coffee, and he went up to see if Joe was alright.  When he opened the door, a large lump suddenly became lodged in his throat as he looked in and saw his son curled up on his side, sound asleep.  

 

Ben walked over and softly caressed Joe’s cheek, as many thoughts ran through his mind.   He wanted to protect this child with all of his heart, but Joe kept wanting to push his family away.  How could they make him see that they were only to help only him?  How could he make Joe see how much his family needed him to get well again?

 

Adam and Hoss went to bed before their father, but they, too, couldn’t resist the urge to check on the youngest.  Both of them found Joe in a similar pose as Ben had and promised that they would help their brother as much as they could to get over his terrible ordeal.  Both of them had a hate for the men who did this burning within them.

 

 

 

 

Ben doused the light in the lantern in his room and settled down to sleep.  The three of them had promised to check on Joe at least once during the night. There was a tiredness they all felt from the burden of looking after Joe, but a burden that none of them intended to shirk.  They all just wished there was something more that they could do for Little Joe.  They would do anything, feel the pain he was in, relive the nightmares he was caught in each night, so long as they could have their son and brother back like before.   

 

As the light went out, Ben failed to see a puff of smoke from a cigar rise into the air as a shadow sat on his horse, cloaked in the darkness of the night and shielded from view.  It was now time for him to leave his victim a little reminder.

 

All four occupants of the household slept without being aware of the imminent danger that was lurking outside the house.

 

Butch Thomas now dismounted from his horse and silently crept along the side of the house.  He didn’t know which window belonged to the boy’s bedroom, but he spotted one and climbed up onto the roof and started to go about prising it open very quietly.

 

He tried to look through the slightly opaque glass to see whose room it was, but his view was blocked further by two thin white curtains.   He pulled out his pocket knife and slid the blade along the window sill until he found the latch.   Once the blade hit the steel latch, Thomas worked his knife back and forth against the flimsy piece of metal until it finally gave way.  There was a small amount of noise made for which he cursed himself, but after waiting for a few seconds, he was satisfied enough that whoever was in the bedroom, was unaware of his presence.

 

He now carefully and silently slid the bottom window panel up to allow him access to the room.  He put one leg over the window sill and then the other, ducking his head as he entered the room.  He looked over and saw a large single bed across the other side of the room.  He got a reasonably good look at the sleeping occupant from behind and grinned devilishly as he could scarcely believe his luck about being in the right room on the first attempt.

 

Joe was turned on his side still with his back facing Thomas.  The moonlight coming through the window was enough for Thomas to get a glimpse of curly brown hair and recognize the figure in the bed as Little Joe.

 

 

 

He walked around the other side of the bed and now looked down at the sleeping boy as his father Ben had done so earlier in the evening.  It took all of his willpower now to stop from waking the boy up and making his presence known.  He wanted to see the boy’s naked fear so bad it almost hurt, but he reminded himself that there would be plenty of time later to let the kid know he was around.  The idea he had for tonight would ensure that Little Joe knew he had been in the room.

 

Butch now reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small object.   The dim light in the room revealed the item to be one of the bullets that had fallen from the pistol onto the floor when they had played Russian Roulette back at the shack.   He knew that Joe would recognize it once he saw it, but he wanted to conceal its presence until the right moment.   

 

He looked around at the items in the room, looking for the right hiding place for his little surprise, when his eyes settled on a photograph of a woman on the bedside table.  Thomas looked at the photograph and then back at Joe and surmised that it must have been the boy’s mother.  He had heard from sources that Ben lived only with his three boys, so he didn’t know what had happened to the woman in the photograph, but looking down at the boy, the resemblance was unmistakable.

 

He looked a little more at the photograph and then the frame itself.   The frame was large and thick and would provide the right hiding place for the bullet.  When the boy went to look at the photograph he would spot Thomas’s little present.  Hopefully, the threats made to Joe earlier about what would happen if he mentioned Thomas’s name would be enough to scare the young man into keeping its message to himself.  If anybody else in the family found it before Joe did, they would only see it as a bullet.

 

Thomas now carefully concealed the bullet behind the frame’s stand so that if the frame was moved in any way, the bullet would become visible.   He looked back at the sleeping figure in the bed and then climbed out the window he came in before anybody heard him creeping about.  He grinned to himself as he left, trying to figure out what the boy’s reaction would be once he found his little surprise.

 

Adam rolled over in his sleep and opened an eye briefly, thinking that he heard footsteps on the roof.  Normally he would have put it down to his little brother coming home late from being in Virginia City, but he knew that at the moment Joe couldn’t have been climbing about on the roof, even if he wanted to.  The boy’s injuries would prevent him from using his normal daredevil stunts of climbing through his bedroom window.

 

Adam lay there for a few more seconds and then decided to get up and check on Joe in case he needed anything. He pulled his robe on and opened the door to Joe’s bedroom very quietly.  He had a lantern with him as he walked across to the bed and shone the faint light over the sleeping figure in the bed. 

 

Joe’s senses told himself that someone was in the room and he opened his eyes and greeted his brother standing over him.

 

“Hey, Adam,” Joe said with a sleep thick voice.

 

“Hey, yourself,” Adam said with a smile as he watched Joe almost fall back to sleep immediately.  “Need anything?” he added.  He was trying to gauge if the boy was hurting anywhere at the moment.

 

“Ummh no…….. no, thanks,” came the barely audible reply before Joe succumbed once again to his body’s need to rest.

 

“Sleep well, little brother,” Adam whispered with relief.  At least it seemed that Joe was sleeping without any nightmares tonight. It was the first time in a few days that Joe hadn’t screamed out in the middle of the night in sheer terror as he relived being taken away from his family.

 

Adam now tiptoed out of the room and reclosed the door, only to be greeted by his father Ben just starting to come out of his own room.   Adam had to smile at his father.   He knew his father would find it difficult to give his youngest son the space that Paul had been talking about. 

 

Ben looked sheepishly at Adam and knew what his eldest son was thinking  “I was just worried, alright?” he said finally.

 

“Don’t worry, I was, too,” Adam admitted.  “Thought I heard something on the roof, so I got up to check on him.  Joe’s fine, just went back to sleep.   He seems to be sleeping very well tonight, no nightmares so far.”

 

“Let’s hope it keeps up until morning, then,” Ben said, as he prepared to go back to his own bed.  His mind was a little more at ease now that Adam had checked on Joe.  If his son was sleeping a little better, he wouldn’t do anything to interrupt that much needed rest.  

 

***********************************************************

 

 

 

 

Next morning Ben was bringing a tray to his son in his room.  He opened the door and smiled when he saw the boy still sleeping.  He didn’t mind it in the slightest.  Joe was always the last to get up in this household.  At the moment, though, considering the circumstances, Joe could sleep as much as he liked until his injuries were healed a little more.

 

Ben placed the tray on the bedside table and then frowned a little as he looked over to see the window on the other side of the room opened.  The curtains were blowing a gentle breeze that came in the room through the half-opened window.   Ben was positive that he had closed it yesterday because Joe told him that he felt safer with it closed.  Now it was open.  Maybe Joe got up through the night to let some fresh air in, Ben surmised, and didn’t really think much more about it.  If it was a sign that Joe was starting to feel a little safer, so be it.  The weather wasn’t particularly cold for him to worry about it being too cold in the room at night.

 

Joe was now starting to stir and wake up from his night’s sleep.  He pulled himself into a more upright position on the bed and winced at the pain that immediately resulted in his ribs.  His leg was only aching dully and he actually felt more alert then he had in days.   His ribs were pretty good except if he tried to move to much.

 

Ben went over to the bed “Good morning, son,” he greeted his son and started placing pillows behind Joe’s back so that he could sit up that little bit more.

 

“Morning, Pa,” Joe replied and then looked down at the tray of food that his father placed in front of him.  A small soft boiled egg, some lightly buttered bread and black coffee.  

 

“Now, I want you to try and eat as much as you can,” Ben said, trying not to make too much of a deal about Joe’s eating habits.  It was well known to the family that Joe was a finicky eater when it came to meals.  Ben knew that his son’s ribs were still smarting and that he still had some pain, but he also wanted to ensure that his son’s recovery wasn’t hampered any further because the boy refused to eat a nourishing meal.

 

“I’ll try,” Joe said, not wanting to reignite the same arguments about his eating.  He picked up his cup of coffee and started to sip at the hot liquid.  It slid down his throat and actually tasted very good.   To satisfy his father that little bit more, he now cut the top of his boiled egg and ate a few mouthfuls of the semi-solid liquid inside.

 

“I’ll leave you to eat your breakfast in peace,” Ben said, knowing, his son would prefer not to be watched as he ate.   “Do you need anything else?” he asked, as he prepared to leave the room.

 

“Not really, but could you ask Adam to come up for a few minutes,” Joe replied.  “I wanted to ask him about borrowing a couple of his books to read while I am stuck in this bed.”

 

“Sure, son, and if you are feeling up to it, I can get Hoss and Adam to help you down to the living room a little later in the day.  It will be a little more comfortable than being in here all day,” Ben suggested, trying to nudge his son that little bit closer to coming out of his room for a few hours.

 

“Maybe later, Pa,” Joe said and sipped at his coffee again, trying not to give away his true thoughts on the matter.   If he gave some hope to his father, maybe they would leave him alone.

 

Adam came up a few minutes later and greeted his brother with a smile. “Good morning, little brother,” he said in a cheery voice.  “What’s this I hear about you wanting to widen your knowledge?” he joked, knowing that Joe was never one for learning from books.  It wasn’t that the boy wasn’t bright enough, completely the opposite, but Joe just didn’t want to seem to try.  Adam had offered to help him with his studies on a number of occasions, but Joe always refused and struggled on his own getting mediocre results for his efforts at school.

 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Joe answered.   “I just wanted something to look at apart from these four walls.”

 

Adam didn’t try and push anymore than his father did, but he did see a glimmer of hope in those words.  Maybe, if Joe got bored enough of his room, he would want to come down and join the rest of his family.  It was a sign, a very small one at that and nothing to get excited about, but he had to believe that soon his brother would start to regain that self-esteem of his that had been robbed while he was away from his family.

 

Adam did as Joe requested and brought in a few of Joe’s favourite books to read.  “Could you take this down to Hop Sing, Adam?” Joe now asked, as he pushed his breakfast tray away.

 

“Sure, had enough?” Adam inquired as he saw half of the egg gone and the coffee cup empty but the buttered bread untouched.

 

“Yeah, for now.  My ribs are still hurting, and my stomach doesn’t feel much like food at the moment,” Joe admitted as he lay back against the pillows and made himself more comfortable to read his books.

 

“We will be downstairs if you need us,” Adam said, as he left the room with the tray.

 

“Well, half a battle won anyway,” Ben said to Hoss and Adam as he gazed down at Joe’s breakfast tray.

 

Ben sat at his desk for the remainder of the morning, trying to do his bookwork for the ranch without his mind continually wandering and wanting to know what his son was doing upstairs.

 

Adam and Hoss had left the house after breakfast to carry out some much needed chores and promised that they would be back at lunchtime in case they were needed to help Joe.  Ben promised them that everything would be fine while they were away.

 

Back upstairs, Joe had tried to do what he had said, and picked up one of Adam’s books and opened the first page.   His eyes skimmed over the words, but he wasn’t really reading them.  His mind kept wandering, too,  back to the abandoned shack and to hearing the words that Thomas had spoken to him.  To the pain he had felt.

 

The more he thought about his situation, though, the more that renowned Joe Cartwright temper started to appear.  He started admonishing himself severely for the fear that he constantly felt and the way he kept pushing his family away.

 

His eyes kept wandering towards the doorway and despite the fear that dwelled within him, he did want to get out of this bedroom.   The first part was wanting to do it and that was the hardest part at the moment.  He looked over into the other corner of the room and spied the crutches that Doctor Paul Martin had left for him to use.

 

He had never used them before but his eyes kept looking from them to the doorway.  Finally, after much berating and telling himself that only babies hid away in their rooms, Joe threw back the covers that were over him.

 

He gingerly looked down at the thick white bandage around his leg.  He had been told about the injury underneath it.  Paul had said it was healing, but the only thing he could feel was the stitches painfully pulling against the soft skin of his ankle. 

 

Joe now gritted his teeth and forced both legs over the edge of the bed.  He waited for the pain to stop before moving the rest of his body towards the edge.  He looked up and saw the crutches, leaning against the wall.  There was about two metres between the edge of the bed and the crutches. 

 

Somehow, he had to get upright first, and then, without falling flat on his face, reach the crutches and use them to support him as he manoeuvred to the doorway.  He knew he could have called out and his father or brothers would come to help him.  But the independent streak in him that the family was waiting to see had begun to emerge, and he told himself that he had to do this on his own if he was going to overcome his fear.

 

“Come on, you can do this,” he admonished himself again and braced his hands on the bed in order to push himself into a standing position.

 

He managed to push himself into the standing position, but then had to hold his breath and grab a hold of the bedclothes with an iron grip to stop himself toppling over from the giddiness that he suddenly felt from standing up.

 

He closed his eyes and told himself to concentrate on breathing to ignore the pain that was now shooting up and down his leg.   This was the first attempt at standing on the leg since he was injured and he didn’t like one little bit how it felt.

 

His hands were shaking from the exertion, and he was almost tempted to lay back down and give it up as a bad joke.  The berating voice came back into his head, though, and told him to stop being such a baby again.  He took another deep breath and let it out slowly as he tried to get the dizziness under control.  He was only clad in a night-shirt at the moment, and the slight breeze coming through the window made him shiver involuntarily, and his skin came out in gooseflesh underneath the thin material.

 

Slowly but surely he now made himself let go of the bed and try and stand up on his own.  He stood absolutely still for a few seconds and was mindful not to move in any one particular direction, or he would fall in an embarrassing heap on the floor.

 

Once he thought he was strong enough, he pivoted on one leg, keeping his injured leg off the ground so that he was facing the wall and the direction he wanted to travel in.   “So far so good,” he said silently to himself.  

 

He tried to gauge how many steps he would have to try and hop to get to the crutches.  And it would be hopping, too, because he knew he didn’t want and try to put any weight on his leg at all yet.  He bent his good leg slightly and then, with as much confidence as he could muster, he forced his body to take that first hop.  He landed unsteadily on his good leg and had to adjust his arms a few times to regain his balance.  There was a slight thud on the floor boards from his foot landing.

 

Ben had been trying to concentrate on the figures in front of him when he heard the thud on the floor.  He looked up and creased his forehead in a frown as he tried to work out what Joe might be doing.  He was tempted to get up straight away and go up to his son’s room, but he forced himself to sit at his desk for a few more moments, trying to hear the sound again.

 

Joe bent down slightly again and took another hop towards the crutches.  With one more small hop, he was now able to reach the wall and put his hands on the crutches.  He had one hand braced up on the wall for support as he tried to gather the crutches underneath his arms.    He placed his hands now on the handles and put his full body weight onto the thin crutches.

 

They were a little uncomfortable under his arms at first, and he adjusted his stance and grip a few times, trying to get them to sit a little better under him.    He now gripped the handles tightly with both hands and attempted  to take his first awkward stride with them.

 

It worked, and he actually had a smile over his face as he made the first step without falling.   With the first one, his confidence gave him a false sense of security, though, and he took another two steps in quick succession, ending up around the other side of his bed, nearest the bedside table.

 

Ben had heard the floor boards squeak a few more times and was determined that all these strange noises needed investigating.  He got up from his desk and now climbed the stairs to see if his son was alright. 

 

Joe was too engrossed in his new found freedom of movement with the crutches to hear his father approach the door. He was just about to take another step as his father opened the door.   Joe squeaked at the fright he got from his father opening the door.  He tried to put the crutches back onto the solid floor, but they came down on an odd angle, causing his balance to become unsteady once again. 

 

 

 

 

Ben opened the door and gasped out loud when he saw his son, who was supposed to be resting in bed, suddenly up on his feet and using the crutches the doctor had left.  He heard the startled cry of his son and regretted not warning him before entering.   The thought was quickly pushed from his mind, though, as he saw Joe become unsteady on his feet.  He tried to move forward and grab a hold of his son before he fell onto the floor.

 

Joe’s overbalance caused his body to bump into the bedside table.  The few items on the table were knocked over, including his mother’s photograph.   With the frame now dislodged from the table, there was now nothing stopping Butch Thomas’s little surprise from rolling from behind the floor, off the edge of the table and onto the wooden floor.

 

Ben stopped briefly as he saw the photograph fall and now watched with confusion as an object rolled off the table and away from the beside table.  Once it hit the floor, it continued to roll for a short distance before coming to rest at Joe’s feet.  Ben could see it was a bullet and although he knew it posed no immediate threat, he was confused as to how it got there or what it was doing on Joe’s table.  He looked up and saw Joe’s gaze fixated on the bullet in front of him.

 

Joe couldn’t hold back the gasp of shock and horror as he watched the bullet roll off the table and onto the floor.   He forgot he was holding onto the crutches, and they fell to the floor as his hands suddenly flew to his mouth to muffle the scream that was now held in the back of his throat.  His fears had just become reality.   

 

Ben wasn’t looking at anything now but at his son as he saw the boy’s complexion pale to an almost waxen appearance. He heard the boy’s strangulated cry and saw the fear in his eyes.  He knew that Joe saw some sort of meaning in the harmless-looking bullet, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. 

 

Joe now felt the world around him start to become real dizzy and he struggled to hold it together.  He felt the blood abruptly drain from his face, and his legs turned to jelly.  He vaguely heard himself give out a groan as his vision wavered and everything turned black.  He didn’t feel himself toppling over.

 

Ben now yelled his son’s name out as he saw the boy lose his colouring and sway before him.  The boy gave a groan and fainted on the spot.  Ben made a move to catch his falling son, but missed, and Joe now fell into a limp heap on the floor.

 

“JOSEPH!” Ben cried as he bent down to check the boy’s pulse.  He found it, and sighed in relief.  But then he immediately became alarmed as he felt it.  It was racing.  The boy’s heart was racing at a mile a minute.

 

Adam and Hoss had been unbuckling their gun belts at the front door, preparing for lunch, when they heard the gasp shock from their father and heard Ben scream his youngest son’s name.  Both of them took no time to climb the stairs, two at a time, and now gaze upon their father bent over the unconscious form of their brother on the

floor.

 

“What happened, Pa?” Hoss now said with worry written all over his face.

 

“I don’t know.  I just came into the room.  He was trying to stand up on those crutches.  I must have startled him because he lost his balance and then bumped into the bedside table here, knocking the things of it.  That bullet on the floor there was behind the photo frame.  He watched it roll across the floor and then just seemed to faint dead away,” Ben said, as he continued to rouse his son.

 

“Hoss, you go and get Doc Martin,” Adam now suggested as he picked up the bullet from the floor.  He looked it over and over.  Nothing out of the ordinary struck him. 

 

Hoss did his brother’s biding and took off down the stairs, ready to get back on his horse and ride urgently to Virginia City.

 

“Joseph,” Ben said, as he continued to say his son’s name over and over in an attempt to wake him up.  ‘Wake up, son”

 

“His pulse is very rapid,” Ben now said to Adam.  Adam knelt down beside his fallen brother and felt for himself, nodding the same finding as he felt the throbbing in the boy’s neck.  Joe’s colour wasn’t very good at all.  His face was not so ashen now, but still very pale. 

 

“I thought I scared him coming into the room, but I didn’t think I scared him this much,” Ben said, concerned that he had startled his son who was stilling recovering.

 

“Let’s get him settled back onto the bed, Pa,” Adam now said, as he helped his father lift the limp Little Joe from the floor and place him back onto the bed.  They pulled the strewn covers back on him to try and warm his body and hopefully get some colour back into his skin.  

 

“What else was he doing when you came into the room?” Adam now asked, trying to figure out what would cause such a drastic reaction in Joe.

 

“Like I said, I came into the room.  It was obvious that I startled him.  He was trying to walk on those crutches,” Ben answered as he now picked up the fallen crutches.  He now laid them against the wall on the other side of the beside table.  “He cried out in fright and stumbled, bumping into the table,” Ben said, as he played out his son’s movements. 

 

“The photo fell off the table and that bullet rolled off the table.  I don’t know where it came from, but Joe’s eyes seemed to be held on it as it rolled about the floor.  Next thing, he starts swaying and then falls over in a dead faint.  I tried to catch him, but I wasn’t quick enough.”

 

“But what was a bullet doing on his bedside table?” Adam now pondered as he continued to look from the bullet to his brother, lying on the bed.

 

“I don’t know, but it looks just like any other bullet,” Ben replied.  “Have you seen it before?”

 

“No, but there is a bit of a distinct marking around the bullet.  Probably made from the chamber of the gun it came from.  It hasn’t been fired, probably just loaded and unloaded from a pistol.”

 

“Ohhh,” came from the bed, immediately ending the conversation between father and eldest son.  Both of them turned their attention to Joe.

 

“Joe,” Ben whispered softly as his son moved his head back and forth on the pillow in an attempt to come back to consciousness.

 

Ben started to wipe the boy’s face with a damp cloth to help bring him around.  Joe took a few more minutes to open his eyes and then focus them on the voice that was speaking to him.  His thoughts didn’t come back to him all at once.

 

“Welcome back,” Ben said, still wiping his face. 

 

“What happened?” Joe asked, as he put his hands to his head to stop the merry-go-round. 

 

“That’s what we were about to ask you,” Ben answered.  “I walked into the room and you seemed to just fall onto the floor in a dead faint.”

 

“Does this have any significance to you, Joe?” Adam asked innocently, holding up the bullet that he found on the floor.

 

It was now that the images came flooding back into Joe’s mind.  The pistol being held to his head.  His eyes watching the bullets as Thomas loaded them into the chamber one at a time.  He had looked at them long enough to notice every mark and dent on the small pieces of lead.  

 

Joe closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing again.  He had to get through this.  “Umm, no………,” came the barely audible whisper as Joe tried to look everywhere else but Adam’s hand.

 

Adam and Ben exchanged glances and knew that Joe was lying.  They were now certain that the bullet meant something to Joe, but they had no idea what.  Their train of thought was interrupted as Doctor Paul Martin now came into the room, followed by Hoss.

 

“You’re back very quickly,” Ben said, noting the time that it had been since Hoss left for the doctor.

 

“I was already on my way out here, Ben, to check on my patient,” Paul answered as he set his medical bag down on the bed.  “Looks like I was needed, anyway, from what Hoss tells me,” he said, now looking at his pale and wan patient, lying on the bed.

 

“What have you done to yourself now, Joseph?” Paul said in mock sternness.  He was a little concerned about the boy’s pale features, but kept his thoughts to himself for the moment.

 

He held the stethoscope to Joe’s chest and began listening to the boy’s heart and lungs.  He noted the same raciness that Ben had discovered when Joe fainted, but perhaps not as bad as before.

 

“What caused you to feel faint, Joe?” Paul asked simply. 

 

“Um, I don’t know,” Joe lied.  He didn’t think his family wanted to hear the full story about the bullet and what it meant to him.  Finding it there scared Joe more than he could ever have imagined, though.  He knew that by finding it there on the bedside table, hidden from view until the right moment, meant that Butch Thomas had been here. 

 

Had not only been at the house, but had entered his room as he slept.  He could have taken him back away from his family at any time, and his family wouldn’t have been able to stop him.  The thoughts about Thomas standing over his bed and watching him as he lay asleep, totally alone in his room, made his flesh come out in goose bumps again.   The fear was too much to ignore and it was all-consuming.

 

Ben and the doctor noticed with concern the boy apparently remembering something and then saw the fear on his face and the gooseflesh on his skin.   There was a much deeper meaning to this than Joe was prepared to tell.

 

Joe was becoming agitated by the attention and scrutiny he was getting and nervously picked at the bed clothes with his hands.  He tried not to hold his gaze with anyone of them for more than a couple of seconds for fear of giving himself away to them.

 

“I got startled by Pa coming through the door,” Joe said finally, without looking up.  It sounded a plausible enough excuse.  He had jumped a little at Ben’s unannounced entry, but that little bit of a scare was nothing compared with the runaway fear that had an iron grip over his heart at the moment. 

 

Ben looked up at the doctor and then at his other two boys and knew that nobody in the room really believed that to be the real reason.  Ben felt a little guilty about scaring his son unnecessarily, but he saw the signs of something more eating away at his son.  The more they tried to help Joe overcome his fear, the more he seemed to withdraw from them and build defences around himself.   The battle was turning into an uphill one.

 

“Well, for now, young man, you don’t seem to have caused yourself much more damage,” Paul said, as he got up and put his instruments in his bag. “I want you to try and get some rest for a while and then have something to eat.”

 

Joe nodded his head but didn’t say anything. He moved about and made himself more comfortable on the bed and turned over, closing his eyes as though drifting off to sleep.  He didn’t want to worry his family any more than he had already done.   Truth was, Joe knew that sleep would be a long time in coming today.

 

Ben, the doctor, Adam and Hoss now exited Joe’s bedroom, satisfied that it looked as though that Joe was settling down to rest for a while.   No sooner had they closed the door that he immediately opened his eyes and just lay there with Thomas’s threats echoing in his mind.  He knew deep down in his soul that he would never be able to

reveal who his tormentor was for fear of him coming back and harming his family.  Thomas had told him that he would get to him if he wanted to and seeing the bullet on his bedside table only proved it even more.

 

 

 

 

“Ben, I don’t need to tell you that whatever is disturbing that boy, he is determined not to tell anybody about it.   Like I said, he seems alright, though a little pale and with a touch of anxiety, but that will pass soon enough.  We have to keep up my earlier instructions of trying to coax him out of his shell.  If we don’t, he is going to let it eat away at him.”

 

“I wish we could help him more, Paul,” Ben said worriedly.  “I thought maybe he was showing some signs of wanting to open up, but now I’m not so sure anymore.”

 

Paul now fiddled around in his bag and pulled out a small white bag with two pills inside “These are very mild sleeping pills, Ben.  I want you to give him one tonight and one tomorrow night.  Hopefully, they will allow him to get some decent rest.”

 

Ben was about to talk to Paul more about his son’s condition when there was another knock at the front door.  Adam opened it and was greeted by Sheriff Roy Coffee standing there with his hat in his hand.

 

“Roy, what brings you out here?” Ben asked, shaking his friend’s hand.

 

“Howdy, Ben, got a couple of things I needed to discuss with you and your boys.  By the way, how is Little Joe?”  the lawman asked, as he shook the doctor’s hand “Doc.”

 

“He’s a little on edge at the moment, Sheriff, but his physical injuries are healing nicely,” Paul answered for Ben.

 

“If you’ll excuse me, Ben, I will come out day after tomorrow if I am not needed sooner.  Let me know if he gets any worse,” he said and left the house for town.

 

“Thanks, Paul,” Ben said to the doctor and now turned his attention to the Sheriff. “What can I do for you, Roy?” he asked again.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that about Little Joe, Ben, and that makes what I am about to tell you a little harder,” he said nervously played with his hat-band.  “Seems that fellow, Griffiths I have got locked up has some powerful friends.  He had gotten in contact with a lawyer from the city.  I just had an urgent telegram from him today, telling me that he arrives on the stage tomorrow and wants to have a meeting between you and his client about setting this matter for trial in a couple of weeks.

 

 

 

 

“A couple of weeks, Roy?” Ben said a little exasperatedly.  “I just don’t know if Joe will be well enough or willing enough to testify by that stage.   We have tried to ask him a few times to tell us about what happened, but he refuses.  Just freezes up and starts shaking as soon as the subject is mentioned.  It will be worse to put him in a court room in front of all those people.”

 

“I know how you feel, Ben, but Judge Collins is due out here about then, and I think he wants to get the trial on before him,” Roy now explained. 

 

“We could contact Fred Harding, Pa,” Adam now suggested.  He didn’t like the ideas of putting his still injured and obviously scared younger brother through something as traumatic as a criminal trial.

 

“Yes, son, that’s a good idea, but even if he agrees to come out to help with the case, he won’t be here by tomorrow when Griffiths’s lawyer is here,” Ben said.

 

“We will just have to listen to what he says until Fred can turn up,” Adam said.

 

“Adam, you go back to town with Roy and send a telegram telling Fred that we are desperate for his help.   Money is not an issue, we will pay him whatever he asks.  Mention to him some of what has happened.  We can fill him in on some of the smaller details if and when he gets here,” Ben said.

 

“Ben, I hate to tell it like it is, but if we can’t get Little Joe to testify to a court that Griffiths had anything to do with his abduction, he and all the others will get off scot-free.  We still don’t even know who the other men were.   I was hoping to talk to Little Joe when he was feeling better to see if he remembers any description of them.”

 

“Maybe Fred will know what to do.  I don’t want anything else happening to Little Joe, Roy.  He has been through enough already,” Ben said with a firm voice.  “You go and organize this meeting for tomorrow night.  We will all be there.  We are not going to see this animal get away with what he did to Joseph.”

 

Roy now departed the house along with Adam.  Adam sent  the telegram like his father had suggested. 

 

The rest of the day seemed to ebb away with no real problems.  Joe spent the remainder of the day in his room.   He dozed off occasionally, but the thoughts going around in his head prevented him from getting the proper rest Doc Martin said was vital for his recovery. 

 

Joe ate a sparse dinner but thankfully for Ben drank the milk offered.  Ben had not wanted to upset his son any further that day about taking medicine to help him sleep so he had simply dissolved the white tablet in the milk before taking it up to Joe.

 

Ben sighed in relief as he watched the sleeping drug take a hold of his son.  Joe was now in a deep sleep and should remain so for the rest of the night.  Ben pulled the warm covers over his son’s shoulders and left the room.

 

Adam and the others were having a late breakfast at the table when a knock at the door revealed Mr Porter from the telegraph office.  He said that he had a telegram, marked urgent, for Ben from a Mr Fred Harding.   Ben and his boys could scarcely believe their luck as they read the telegram that said Fred would be arriving the day after tomorrow.

 

They had brought in the big guns to help out Joe, but were mighty grateful to have such a well-educated man willing to take on their case.

 

“What are we going to do about Little Joe tonight while we are at the meeting, Pa?” Hoss said, worried about leaving his little brother alone after being so scared. 

 

“As much as I hate to do it Hoss, I think we still have to abide by Paul’s idea to let him have a little more independence.  I don’t aim to leave him totally alone, though.  Hop Sing will be left here to look after anything that Joe might need.  Hopefully, if that other sleeping pill lasts as long as the one he had last night, we can go when he goes to sleep and be back at the house before he wakes up and knows we are gone,” Ben explained.  “I really think we all need to be at this meeting tonight for Joe’s sake.  It is going to be rough on him as it is, and I don’t want this slick lawyer doing anything underhanded to aid his client.”

 

Joe’s mood was just as dark when he awoke.  He found himself feeling the same insecurity that he had felt before trying to get out of bed.  Now the knowledge that Butch Thomas had been in his room, able to kill him or hurt him, took up to refusing to come out of his room again when told he could do so.  He used a multitude of excuses, such as still hurting some and feeling tired, which were all partly believable, but his family knew that he was running away from himself and his nightmares.

 

By mid-afternoon, part of Joe’s torment became Hoss’s, and the big man could no longer bare to see his younger sibling in such sorrow.  Ben watched as Hoss climbed the stairs and secretly hoped that the closeness of the two brothers shared would help Joe overcome his fear.

 

“Hiya, brother,” Hoss said cheerily as he entered Joe’s room.  Joe looked up and put aside the book he was reading.  He tried to smile, but it was a very fake effort.

 

“Hi, Hoss,” he said in a voice that held no tone at all.  “Came up to try and talk to me again?” he said dryly, knowing that all of his family had tried to do the same at various stages.  It was now Hoss’s turn, try as he might.

 

“Um, yeah, I suppose yes,” Hoss said, a little taken aback by Joe’s negativity.  “Its just that you got us all so worried about you, punkin’.  Me and Adam have been trying to think of a way to help you out.  Pa’s just about going crazy down there worrying about you.  You really scared him yesterday when you fainted like that.”

 

“I didn’t mean to, Hoss,” Joe said, his voice betraying him.   The whole tone of the conversation had now changed as Hoss saw the tears slip from his brother’s emerald green eyes.  Hoss’s heart just about broke in two and he couldn’t help but sit on the bed and gather the younger boy into his arms while he cried.

 

“Oh, punkin’, I know that. Pa knows you didn’t mean it, too.  But you gotta believe that nobody is going to hurt you anymore.  Not in this house.  Not while any one of us is here to see you safe and sound.  I promise that I will pound anybody into the ground that tries scare you or lifts a finger to hurt you again,” Hoss said.  

 

“Promise, Hoss,” Joe said in a meek voice. He really needed to believe that somebody would protect him at the moment.  He really did feel all alone and vulnerable.

 

“I promise,” Hoss said with a firmness that signalled he meant every word he said.

 

Hoss was determined to help his younger brother overcome his insecurity and fear and so for the rest of the afternoon before supper, he sat talking idly to Joe about what had been happening on the ranch while he was recovering. 

 

Hoss was no good at the gentle and soothing words that Adam or his Pa used, but he hoped that if he kept the conversation relaxed and the topics as far away from Joe’s problems as possible, Joe himself would begin to relax and feel safer. 

 

 

His methods showed some signs of working, and Ben came up to see Hoss and Joe having a few games of checkers on the bed.     Joe’s mind was still wandering, though, and surprising to him, Hoss found himself winning a few games. But for the most part, Joe seemed to be a little calmer.

 

Ben smiled at the comforting scene before him and quietly slipped away before he disturbed the two brothers.

 

***********************************************************

 

While Hoss was having his conversation with Joe, another conversation of a different flavour was also happening back in Virginia City.  It was talking place in Henry William’s office between Henry Williams himself and Butch Thomas.

 

“You took some mighty awful risks going back to the Ponderosa after that kid, Thomas.  What happens if the kid squawks and tells everything?” Williams said with a little anger in his voice.  “He’s going to testify before a Judge and Jury, for God’s sake.  If he fingers Griffiths for being part of it, what’s to say he doesn’t mention your name with it?”

 

“Don’t worry, Williams, the kid won’t say anything,” Thomas replied casually while leaning back on a chair in the room.

 

Williams was riled just that little bit more with Thomas’s nonchalant attitude.  If the kid talked and people put two and two together about the lumber contract and Joe’s kidnapping, it was both of their necks in the hangman’s noose.

 

“Hey, I am trying to protect both of us here,” Williams barked as he shoved Thomas’s feet off his desk.

 

Williams swallowed a little as he now watched the colour of Thomas’s eyes change.  They became darker and angrier.  Thomas now stood up and over Williams as he spoke.

 

“You don’t need to worry about a thing, Williams.  I got everything under control.  Believe me, I aim to go back tonight and finish what I started.   By the time I am done with Little Joe Cartwright, the kid won’t be able to even speak his name on that witness stand.   He wouldn’t dare tell anybody about me or what happened or about Griffiths.  He will keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s good for him.  I’ll make sure of it.”

 

 

 

“You just make sure that I get my share of that money.  Because if I find that you have double-crossed me,” Thomas said, grabbing Williams by the front of his shirt for emphasis, “then, apart from me coming after your miserable hide, I will make sure that somebody finds out your name and your involvement about the boy’s kidnapping.”

 

Thomas pushed Williams back into his chair roughly and walked out of the office.  He had a few preparations to do before he went back to the Ponderosa tonight.

 

***********************************************************

 

“You sure you’ll be alright, Hop Sing?” Ben asked for the fifth time in an hour.  He was now regretting his idea about only leaving the little Cantonese man with Joe for the few hours they were going to be in town.

 

‘Mister Cartwright not worry.  Hop Sing take good care of Little Joe,” Hop Sing replied, as Ben and his boys buckled on their gun belts.  The horses were saddled and out front ready for them to depart in a few minutes.

 

“Now, Hop Sing, Joe has been asleep for about an hour from that sleeping tablet.  Make sure you check on him regularly, but don’t wake him up.    We shouldn’t be too long.   I want to get this meeting done and out of the way.  I will feel a lot better when Fred gets here tomorrow,” Ben said.

 

“Adam, while we are in town tonight, I want you to make a hotel reservation for Fred for tomorrow.  I will ask him to stay here, but I don’t know if he will,” Ben now stated.  “Let’s go, boys.  The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back here to Joe,” Ben replied, glancing a final time up to towards the room were his youngest son lay sleeping.

 

Hop Sing closed the heavy wooden door behind him and went up to check on Joe just like he was instructed to.   He found Joe still sleeping due to the medicine and left the room to go down to the kitchen.  

 

For the next half and hour, Hop Sing worked furiously in the kitchen, getting some much needed baking out of the way while he was still awake.   He wouldn’t need to do so much tomorrow, then.   He was in the middle of making one of Hoss’s favourite peach pies when he discovered that he had run out of eggs.  He went out onto the verandah and walked the short distance to the large storage room at the back of the house.  He kept the eggs and butter in this building because it seemed to be the cooler there, and the ingredients kept better than when they were in the pantry.

 

Hop Sing was too busy gathering the few items he needed to notice someone creeping up behind the door to the storage room.   He had a small lantern with him but he turned around in surprise as the door was now slammed shut, locking him inside.  

 

“Who out there, let out now?” Hop Sing yelled loudly to the unseen party.

 

“You just sit tight, China man.  I am just going to go and see how the boy is fairing,” Thomas said with an evil laugh.

 

“Who you, you leave Little Joe alone.  Cartwrights be back any minute.  Leave Little Joe alone!” Hop Sing yelled desperately through the door, knowing that he was powerless to help his favourite Cartwright.

 

“Don’t lie to me, China man.  Cartwright and his boys only left an hour ago.  They won’t be back for ages.  And don’t you go worrying about Little Joe.  I am going to take good care of him,” Thomas said.

 

Hop Sing kept yelling through the door at the stranger to leave Little Joe alone, but his words fell on deaf ears.

 

Because of the kitchen door still being left open, Butch Thomas had no trouble entering the house.    He looked around the kitchen briefly, but then headed out into the living room and towards the staircase.

 

He walked casually up the stairs, taking in the position of various rooms and items in the house.  He made a mental map of everything he saw in case they could be of use later on.

 

He went into the bedroom at the top of the stairs, but found Hoss’s room to be empty.    He skipped the farthest  room of Ben’s and now opened Adam’s bedroom door, to find it empty also.

 

He glanced at the final door at the end of the hallway and knew that he would find what he was looking for inside.

 

As silently as possible, he opened the door and went inside.  He laughed to himself again as he found Little Joe curled up asleep on the bed.    The kid didn’t even know he was there.    He was about to change all of that, though.

 

 

 

Thomas saw the two crutches leaning up against the wall beside the bedside table and now deliberately knocked them to the floor.  They made a crashing sound as they hit the wooden surface, but Joe only turned his head at the noise, his sleep from the drug too deep.

 

“I guess I will have to use a more physical approach,” Thomas said out loud to himself.   He now reached back and brought down a stinging slap to the sleeping boy’s face.  The slap had the desired effect, and Joe brought his hand up to the reddened area as he opened his eyes in total shock.    As soon as his eyes fixed on the reason for the pain on his cheek, he let out a scream as he now came face to face with the man who caused his nightmares.

 

“You seemed so surprised, boy,” Thomas now said, as he roughly grabbed Joe from his bed and held his hand over the boy’s mouth.  He was fairly sure that there was nobody else about the ranch at the moment, but he wasn’t taking any chances.  “I told  you I would come back.  Why did you doubt me?” he said, ignoring the boy’s soft moans of pain as he dragged the struggling and terrified boy across the room to the door.

 

Terror and fear had now developed in Joe at alarming levels and despite the boy’s desperate struggles against his captors, his body was trembling.  He was still trying to scream for help through the hand over his mouth.  He was trying to work out why his father and brothers weren’t coming to his rescue.  Hoss said that they would be here to protect him.   Where were they, where was Hop Sing? 

 

Thomas dragged Joe down the stairs into the living room and threw him roughly into the settee.  Joe was immediately trying to escape the man’s grip and get away from him.   

 

“I need you to keep put, boy,” Thomas said, as he brought out a small ball of twine from his pocket.  He held it out so that his victim could see it and now walked closer to Joe.   Joe’s heart was beating so hard from the fear that he thought he might pass out.  He kicked and bucked as best he could.  At one stage he felt Thomas’s boot come into contact with his injured leg, and his struggles stopped abruptly as he tried to deal with the pain that now engulfed his leg.   He couldn’t help but scream out loud from the pain.    

 

Now that he was able to get a better grip on Joe, Thomas as able to tie the boy’s hands together and then bind his ankles.   The cord rubbed against the bandages on Joe’s ankles and chafed some of the stitches underneath.  By the time Thomas was finished tying him up, Joe was sobbing from the pain and trying to cower away from the man who was hurting him all over again.

 

“Pa, where are you, Pa,” Joe screamed out as the pain got worse.  He couldn’t understand why nobody was coming to help him.  “Adam……… Hoss, help me, please.   He’s hurting me.    Pa.”

 

“You make too much noise, boy,” Thomas said, as he now took out a large, checkered handkerchief and tied it securely around the boy’s mouth to prevent him screaming.

 

Once his victim was bound and gagged, Thomas took a minute to stand back and look at the miserable, cowering boy before him.

 

Joe looked up at him, unable to hide the terror he felt and the pain that came from his bonds. 

 

“Now you and me can have a talk without you interrupting me,” Thomas said, as he grabbed the boy and brought him a few inches closer to his face.   “I just wanted to make sure that you remembered our little talk back at the shack.  The one about not telling anybody about me or anything that happened back there.  Remember what I promised would happen if you did talk?” he said menacingly.

 

Joe found himself nodding his head, but he didn’t know what to.  He just wanted this man to leave him alone.

 

Thomas was a bit wary of staying longer in the house for fear of somebody turning up unexpectedly.  He now looked about the room, trying to figure out what to do with his young victim.   He now spotted a door on the far side of the living room.  

 

He dragged the bound Joe with him and opened the door to see where it led.  To his surprise and amusement, he saw the it was merely a coat closet, no bigger than an outhouse.  It was dark and dingy.  When Cartwright returned, he wouldn’t even suspect the boy was hidden in there.

 

Joe could see that Thomas meant to put him in the dark and claustrophobic closet.  Despite the gag in his mouth, he began begging not to be put into the darkened room. 

 

“No………No,” Joe pleaded as he recommenced struggling against his assailant and prevent himself being put into the closet.

 

 

 

 

At first Thomas couldn’t work out why the kid was bucking so much about being put into the closet.  Then he looked at Joe’s feared look at the room and laughed out loud as he realised the reason for the boy’s fear, apart from himself.

 

“You afraid of the dark, boy?” Thomas asked, already knowing the answer to his question.  “Well I guess we will just have to make a man out of you.   Time to face your fear,” he said and propelled the boy towards the darkness.

 

Thomas was strong enough to literally pick up the boy and shove him into the small space, but the boy was now running on pure adrenaline from the fear within him.  He was now in the closet, but he was fighting against Thomas to get back out again.   Thomas was tired of playing games with Joe and now brought back his clenched fist and delivered a blow to the boy’s jaw. 

 

Joe was knocked unconscious and sagged in Thomas’s grasp.   Thomas now propped him up against the wall of the closet.  He was satisfied that he had scared the boy enough not to testify at the trial.  If the boy proved him wrong, he would make him truly sorry. 

 

“See ya around, kid,” Thomas said to the unconscious Joe as he closed the door. Joe was now immersed in total darkness, but was oblivious to his cramped confines.  There was already a bruise darkening on his jaw line as a result from Thomas’s fist.

 

Before Thomas left, he remembered the crutches upstairs and a smile came over his face as he thought of an idea to scare the Cartwrights when they returned to find their youngest missing.

 

He brought the crutches to foot of the stairs and broke one in half, carefully laying it where it wouldn’t be missed.

 

Thomas now left the house through the kitchen door where he came in.  Hop Sing could still be heard hollering through the storage room door to let him out.  

 

Thomas now rode off towards Virginia City, but was careful enough to take a smaller dirt track away from the main road in case the Cartwrights were coming back.

 

***********************************************************

 

 

 

About an hour after Thomas left the Ponderosa, Ben and his boys were coming back to the house.  The meeting scheduled had been postponed until the Cartwright’s lawyer, Fred Harding, got there the following day. The solicitor for Griffiths wasn’t too happy about it being put off, but when he heard the name of the Cartwrights’ lawyer, he knew he had some homework of his own to do.  Fred Harding had a reputation that preceded him and he was no pushover when it came to criminal trials.

 

Ben Cartwright rode slowly into the yard and the first thing that he heard was somebody’s voice.  He could hear someone yelling, but he couldn’t see them.   He immediately got of his horse along with Adam and Hoss and tried to listen to where it was coming from.

 

They walked closer to the house, but the voice could be heard out in the yard.  “I think its coming from the storage room, Pa,” Hoss said, as he walked over to the small cool room.  Hoss looked down and could see that a stick had been used to keep the person inside from opening the door.

 

“Get it open, quick!” Ben now yelled, as a deep feeling of dread was now beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.

 

To their surprise, out came a very hostile and very angry Hop Sing.  The little Cantonese man’s voice was now very croaky, and it was difficult to make out what he was saying.

 

There were only two words that Ben heard that struck fear into his own heart: “Lil Joe”.   He immediately forgot about the little oriental man and began running towards the house.

 

Hop Sing followed the Cartwrights as they ran inside to see what had happened while they were gone.  It was obvious that Hop Sing had been prevented from getting to Little Joe for some reason.  He had been locked up so that he couldn’t help the boy.

 

“Joseph!” Ben called as he entered the living room.  He stopped his shouting when he came across the broken crutch at the bottom of the stairs.

 

Hoss and Adam now both looked at the broken sticks and couldn’t hide their thoughts about what might have happened.

 

“What happened here, Hop Sing?” Adam now demanded. 

 

 

 

Ben and Hoss turned around to listen to the little servant.  “Hop Sing go to storage room to get egg for Mr Hoss’s pie he baking.  Someone close door on Hop Sing. I say let me out.  Man say he going to see Little Joe. I told him no, but he no listen and go inside.  Don’t know what happened, but could hear Little Joe screaming.  Don’t know where he take Little Joe.”

 

“My God!” Ben cried as he now realised just how much danger his son was in.  He didn’t know who had come and taken his son and it didn’t matter why.  They just needed to get him back again. 

 

Hoss picked up the broken crutch and played with it in his hands for a moment.  When he looked back up at Ben and Adam, both of them saw the anger that was now dwelling within the big man. 

 

"Come on, boys, let's go and find him," Ben said firmly as he walked to the closet to grab his long overcoat.  He didn't know what the elements would bring outside.  The only thing he was worried about was the fate of his missing 16-year-old son.

 

“Adam, you’ll have to hitch up the wagon and get some blankets ready, just in case,” Ben said, as he tried to get his mind around what they might need.

At first, the door knob seemed to be stuck.  Ben gave it another tug and felt the lock release from inside the door.  He swung the door open ready to reach up for the coat.  Instead, his eyes bulged at the sight before him.

Ben barely got the door halfway open before something fell onto the floor.  Ben could hear his own gasp of shock and horror when he looked down to see the unconscious and bloodied form of his youngest son fall limply onto the floor.  The boy was bound hand and foot and a gag had been secured around his mouth to prevent him alerting anybody to his hiding place.

Ben knelt down to check for a pulse.  It was there, slow and some what erratic, but it was there.  Little Joe was alive.  The next thing that Ben noticed was a white slip of paper attached to the front of Little Joe's shirt.

Ben tore the note and immediately started to read what it said.

Could you hear him screaming, Ben?  He was calling out for you to help him, but you weren't there for him..

 

***********************************************************        

 

Adam stood by the staircase banister, worriedly running his hands through his black hair.  He had been impatiently waiting for Paul Martin to examine his unconscious brother.  He had gone into Virginia City at a frightening pace after the family had found the limp Little Joe in the closet.

 

By the time Paul arrived, Ben and Hoss had managed to carry Joe to his room.  The boy still didn’t make any movements or signal that he was regaining consciousness.  The darkening bruises stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin.

 

Ben was still with the Doctor in Little Joe’s room.  The only thing that was going around in Ben’s mind at the moment was the few words that had been written on the piece of paper found on Joe.  The words not only seemed to echo in his mind tenfold, but they shouted at him and reminded him of how he had failed his son.  He had left the boy virtually alone and the unthinkable had happened.

 

Somebody had broken into their house, locked Hop Sing up so that he couldn’t help and then proceeded to torture and assault the boy some more.  The burden of guilt was almost too much to bear. 

 

Ben found himself asking the “What If’s” and the “If I had only’s”.   Adam and Hoss and even Hop Sing had come to tell Ben that there was no way he could have known that somebody would be waiting to come and hurt Little Joe again. 

 

Ben had wanted to be in the room with Little Joe as Paul tended his new injuries and checked the older ones, but Paul had seen the harrowing look on his old friend’s face.  He had wanted to examine his patient alone, but didn’t dare ask the question at the moment as he glanced briefly at Ben again.  Paul could see the shadows of guilt and the hint of doubt cross Ben’s dark brown eyes.  He just hoped that the evening’s tragic events hadn’t made the psychological scars on Little Joe any deeper than before. 

    

Paul now emerged from Joe’s room with his bag in hand, and descended the stairs. He could feel two sets of inquiring eyes on him in front of him as he reached the first landing and Ben’s coming from behind him.  He waited until he reached the bottom before giving his full diagnosis.

 

“He’s going to be alright, Ben,” Paul said, putting a firm reassuring hand on Ben’s shoulder.  “He has a couple of new bruises to add to his collection, and the skin around his wrists is a little red and chafed from his bonds. I have rubbed some moisturising cream into them, and they should be fine in a day or so.  The bruises will fade in time.”

 

“Has he come to yet, Doc?” Hoss said, deeply concerned that Joe had been knocked unconscious again.

 

“Briefly, Hoss, but then went back to sleep.   I checked him over carefully.  The blow he received doesn’t seem to have caused any lasting effects, so I let him go back to sleep.  He is mentally exhausted.   When he did wake up he was immediately looking around the room to see who else was in the room.  I am afraid to say that whatever good work we were able to do over the last day or so, all of it has just been undone, and we are back to where we were when he was first brought home.  It is going to take even longer now to coax him out of his shell and get him gaining some self-confidence again.”

 

Ben saw Paul to the door and bid him goodnight in a voice devoid of emotion. 

 

“Should one of us stay with him, tonight, Pa?” Adam now asked, as they all prepared to retire for the night.

 

Ben sighed loudly and thought hard for a moment.  It took every ounce of gumption he had to say, “No, son.  As much as my heart says to, we have to try and keep to the doctor’s advice.  All of my body tells me that he shouldn’t be left alone tonight, but then there is this little voice talking in my head that says we need to do what’s best for Joseph in the long run. If we get too close to him and smother him, we are likely to push him away and he will withdraw into himself like before,” he explained.

 

“I don’t mean that we don’t check on him during the night and be there at a minute’s notice, though,” Ben added knowing that if Joe needed him during the night neither he nor Joe’s brothers would hesitate in being there to help him through his fears.

 

Hoss and Adam watched their father walk up the staircase with dejection in his posture.  They both knew that the next couple of days ahead before the trial were going to be rough,  especially on the eldest and youngest in the household.

 

***********************************************************

 

The next morning Ben was seated at the table early as usual, but this morning he had two reasons for being up. One was the imminent arrival of Fred Harding on the stage.   Ben and he would need to spend most of the day going over the steps and procedures of the trial the day after tomorrow.  Once they had worked out a strategy, the biggest hurdle would be explaining the need to testify to Little Joe.  That was going to be the toughest of all jobs. 

 

Ben, had lain awake most of the night anyway, listening for the slightest noise to come from his son’s room and give him an excuse or alibi for going into his son’s room and carry on a night-long vigil.

 

On the couple of occasions that Ben had gotten up and checked on Joseph, the young man was sleeping soundly enough.  There were some minor moans and tossing of his head on the pillow, indicating that he was dreaming of something.  But other than that, there was no thrashing about or shouting by Joe.

 

Ben turned around and was about to exit the bedroom when he ran into his eldest son, who was coming into the room.  Both of them smiled at each other sheepishly, but Ben continued back to his bedroom and Adam satisfied himself that his brother was alright and then headed back to his own room.  Both of them heard the heavier, more distinct footsteps of the biggest Cartwright doing some checking of his own on his younger brother not more than half an hour later. 

 

All four Cartwrights then slept the remainder of the night away without interruptions.

 

Ben was sipping at his coffee when Adam and Hoss came down to the breakfast table.  He was determined to talk to Joseph about what had happened the previous night before he left for Virginia City to meet with Fred Harding.  He glanced up at the closed bedroom door and knew that he would probably have to disturb his slumbering son in order to talk to him.  Joe wasn’t likely to wake on his own for another hour or so and that would leave things too late to meet the stage.

 

Adam and Hoss had both offered to and meet the attorney instead of Ben, but their father had made it clear that he wanted to meet the solicitor first and get first hand knowledge about just how the trial was going to take place.  He also knew that Fred would need to be told about what had happened to Joe since the telegram. 

 

Ben drained what was left in his cup and now made his way to the stairs and climbed up towards his son’s room.  Adam and Hoss both watched their father go to their brother.  Neither of them said a word as they both tried to contemplate what their brother’s demeanour would be that morning.

 

When he first entered the room, Ben had opened and closed the door very quietly so as not to wake Joe.  He admonished himself quickly, though, and wondered why he was doing such a thing when the whole purpose of him coming into the room was to wake his sleeping son.

 

Ben felt a lump rise in his throat and he had second thoughts about his little talk as he gazed down at the bed and saw Joe lying facing him.  His features were completely relaxed at the moment and he looked impossibly younger than his sixteen years.    Ben told himself that he couldn’t delay it any longer.

 

“Joe,” Ben said quietly at first as he rubbed the back of his hand gently against his son’s cheek.  Joe didn’t respond at first so he repeated the process and was rewarded with a soft mumble and Joe turning his head slightly at the voice talking to him.

 

Ben gave his son a few minutes to continue waking on his own.  Joe moved his head a few more times and brought one of his hands up to his forehead.  It was at this stage that his mind registered that his hands were no longer restrained.  His eyes flew open, and he tried to sit up in a hurry and look about the room. 

 

He put the hand to his head again to stop the giddiness that he immediately felt.  After the spinning had stopped, Joe looked down intently at his hands.  He was turning them over back and forth, trying to comprehend that they were tied up with ropes still.  There was a slightly red ring around each wrist and a chafing feeling to them, but otherwise they looked unharmed.  Joe stared at the rings and knew that they represented the torment that he had been forced to live through once again.

 

He was lost in his own thoughts for a minute and only acknowledged his father’s presence as he brought his hands up to the bruise on his jaw line and looked directly at Ben at the same time.  For what seemed the longest time, both of them looked at each other without saying any words.  Both of them spoke what they were feeling with their eyes.  Joe’s emerald green eyes spoke of fear and of being afraid.  Ben’s spoke of sadness for his son but also of the love he felt and of understanding.

 

Joe’s emotions then started to overwhelm him and he turned his head away and bit on his lip and he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes.  Ben brought his hand gently up to the opposite side of Joe’s bruised jaw and turned the saddened face towards him again. 

 

The tears now began trickling down his face and as they fell, Joe felt himself lean into his father’s chest and reach out for the security that he so desperately sought.  Ben could scarcely hold back his own emotions, but was determined to be strong for his child in his time of weakness. 

 

He held his son with an embrace that displayed warmth, strength and power, characteristics that Joe found himself lacking at the moment and relying on others to give him.

 

“I’m sorry, son,” Ben said, as he absent-mindedly ran his fingers through the back of Joe’s hair in a soothing gesture.

 

“N-n-not …….. not your fault, Pa,” Joe said, as he tried to get himself under control and regain his composure.

 

“I would do anything to turn the clock back and stop that man from coming back in here, Joe,” Ben now said.  “I promise you that I won’t let anybody hurt you again”.

 

Joe didn’t say anything in reply to this.  He heard his father’s words and knew that his father believed in what he said.   Unfortunately, Joe couldn’t believe in such things at the moment.  He didn’t even feel safe inside his own house at the moment.  Thomas had proven that by literally just waltzing into his room in the night and taking him by force from his bed and tying him up.

 

The torment hadn’t stop there.  After he found himself bound and gagged, Joe had become Thomas’s victim of terror again as he was placed in the darkened closet.    Darkness was one of Joe’s worst fears.  Almost everybody that knew Joe also knew about his phobia.  Being forced to face it in such terrifying circumstances had only made the fear seem more real to Joe.

 

“I have to go now and meet the stage, Joe,” Ben said, as his mind kept track of the time.  “I won’t be gone long.  I will make sure one of your brothers is here with you and helps you get breakfast and anything else you need.”

 

Joe was tempted to say a few things to his father like, “how about a gun to protect myself if he comes back,” but refrained from it and just gave his father a wan smile in response.

 

“Thanks, Pa,” he said, the words almost feeling like a lie.

 

Ben still didn’t feel right about getting up and leaving his son, but as he got up from the bed and looked back at Joe’s forlorn expression, a noise behind him caused him to turn and come face to face with his eldest son Adam.  Apparently, Ben didn’t need to worry too much about alerting his two eldest sons to look out for their younger brother, nor Hop Sing, it seemed, as Ben spied the tray of breakfast that Adam now set down on the bedside table. 

 

“I will make sure he’s alright until you get back, Pa,” Adam now said noticing his father’s hesitation in leaving Joe to meet the stage.

 

“Are you going to bring Mr Harding back to the house?” Adam now asked changing the whole topic of conversation in the room.

 

“Who is Mr Harding?” Joe asked in a small voice as he wiped away the remaining tears from his face and tried to look stronger in front of his older brother.  With all the happenings over the last couple of days and the blow to his head, the name escaped Joe for a minute.  Joe found himself being cautious about any name he didn’t immediately recognize.

 

“Fred Harding is the attorney who I have hired to be our lawyer when the court case starts, Little Joe,” Ben started to explain but saw his son immediately turn his head away as if not to hear anything about a court case.   Ben sighed inwardly as he knew that this was probably the same ignorance that Fred was going to face when he started to question Joe about what happened when he was kidnapped.

 

“I will be back soon, son,” Ben said, noticing that it was already getting too late to meet the stage on time.  He gave a curt but grateful smile at Adam in appreciation and quickly walked down the stairs towards the front door.

 

“I saddled your horse for you, Pa,” Hoss said, as he met his father at the door.  Ben took his gun belt from the credenza and his hat from the rack behind the door.   He opened the door and was about to step out when he glanced back up towards his youngest son’s room again.

 

“Thanks, Hoss,” Ben said genuinely.   “Make sure you keep a good eye on him for me while I am gone,” he added, already knowing that he didn’t need to say such things.

 

“You bet, Pa,” Hoss said in reply.  “I won’t let anything happen to him”.  All three Cartwrights were feeling guilty that they hadn’t been there for Little Joe when he needed them.  It was also evident with Hop Sing, also, as Hoss turned and notice the man peering out from behind the kitchen doorway. 

 

Adam sat, talking to Joe for a while trying to entice the younger man to get something into his stomach.  He tried not to focus his attention on the new bruises that marred Joe’s handsome features.  Those bruises were the result of him not being there for his younger brother. 

 

None of them had ever thought the man responsible for Joe’s kidnapping would be so brazen as to break into their house in the night and attempt to take him again.  The idea was almost beyond comprehension that there were men so callous and cruel out there.  Adam silently promised himself that he wouldn’t allow anybody to hurt his younger brother again.

 

Adam tried to make the conversation non-intrusive and just routine

chit-chat at first.  He tried to talk about anything else but what had happened to Joe last night.

 

Joe played with the scrambled egg on the tray for a few minutes.  When he saw Adam watching him and almost hanging on to the thought that he was eating he managed to force two spoonfuls of the mixture into his mouth.  He told his brain not to taste it as it went down and sat uncomfortably in his stomach.   He was not about to take a third mouthful. 

 

Instead, he now picked up the coffee on the tray and sipped at the hot liquid.  It actually tasted quite good, but the swallowing action made his jaw hurt and brought a grimace to his face at the pain that was hard to avoid.

 

“Sorry, Adam, I guess I am just not very good company at the moment,” Joe finally said.   “Thanks for staying, but you really don’t need to.  I think I would rather be alone with my thoughts for a while.  I still feel a little tired and I can feel a headache starting.”

 

“Do you want something for the pain?” Adam asked, as he got up from the bed. 

 

Joe shook his head in a negative response.

 

“Are you sure you want to be alone, buddy?” Adam asked before exiting the door.  He didn’t think it was very good for Joe to be left alone with his thoughts.  Left alone to brood on what had already been a harrowing experience for him.   But he respected his brother’s privacy enough to understand Joe wanting some time to think through things himself.  Hopefully Pa wouldn’t be gone too long, anyway.  He might be able to talk to Joe again about what happened.

 

“I am not really sure about anything anymore, Adam,” Joe said in a disinterested voice and turned away from his brother  to hide the tears that threatened to spill again.  He cursed himself for his weakness, but couldn’t help the overwhelming fear that was still very real in his mind.

 

Adam noted his brother’s words sadly, but didn’t say anything in return and closed the door to go downstairs.

 

Hoss was just coming in from outside when Adam was descending the stairs. 

 

“He alright up there?” Hoss enquired.

 

“No, and I really don’t blame the kid after what he has been through,” Adam said in defeat.  “I think you and I need to sit down before Pa and Mr Harding get back and talk about what’s going to happen at this trial.”

 

“What do you want to talk about?” Hoss said, as he watched Adam walk over towards the fireplace.  Adam’s normally dark brown eyes clouded over with thought as he put the words together in his head before answering the question.  Hoss sat on the settee and waited for his brother to speak.

 

“After what happened last night, you and I need to think of an alternative strategy for security in the courtroom,” Adam now said.  “I know Sheriff Roy Coffee and Pa will be there as well as two lawyers and a packed public gallery.  But after this man’s obvious brazen efforts last night to Little Joe, I don’t really trust any of them to be there in case Joe needs help again.  I don’t want to put a dampener on the whole thing.  It is a court of law, after all, but I don’t really think that such a place would be a deterrent to somebody who wanted to get to Joe during the trial.”

 

“What do you suggest we do?” Hoss asked, plainly not really thinking about the court room being a place for threats to take place.  “We can’t take guns in there.  Roy will be the only one with a gun in the whole place.”

 

‘I know.  I know,” Adam replied.  “That’s a hurdle that is going to be hard to get over.  But, somehow, we have to come up with something.  Even if we just make sure that we take note of everybody coming in and out.  We need to keep a close eye on the whole procedure.  Joe’s safety has to be number one priority, no matter what Mr Harding and the Judge think.”

 

***********************************************************

 

Ben had tried to get to Virginia City as fast as he could once leaving the house, but was still in time to notice that the stage coach had already arrived and allowed the passengers to get out.

 

He hitched his horse at the railing and went to the stage coach to ask the driver about Mr Harding.  

 

“Hi, Stan,” Ben greeted the driver who was busy unloading luggage and boxes from the top of the stage.

 

“Hi, Ben, what brings you to town today?” the man asked in casual conversation.

 

“Looking for one of your passengers, actually,” Ben replied. “A Mr Fred Harding,” he added, hoping that the driver had kept a list or made a mental note of the passengers names.

 

“Yeah, I seen the man you are looking for.  All dressed up like a prize turkey,” Stan said.  Out here in these parts, any person dressed in a pinstriped suit with vest and coat immediately became memorable.  Virginia City folks were not usually as flash with their attire, especially when travelling by stage coach.  “He walked over towards the hotel, Ben.”

 

“Thanks, Stan,” Ben said and turned away quickly, trying to catch up with his elusive guest.  It wasn’t that he wanted to be rude to the driver, but he had more important things on his mind at the moment like the welfare of his youngest son and the trial that he was expected to give evidence about in couple of days.

 

Ben entered the hotel through the two French doors and waited for his eyes to adjust from the sunshine outside to the darkened lobby of Virginia City’s International Hotel.

 

There were two gentlemen standing at the front reception desk inside the hotel.   One was Fred Harding, the lawyer that Ben was looking for.  The second man, unbeknown to Harding or Ben, was the defence lawyer for Griffiths, Mr Eugene Simpson.  He was a little balding man with beady eyes and short in stature.  Mr Simpson was unaware that the man standing beside him was to be his formable rival in the courtroom.  He had heard of Harding’s reputation as a very good prosecutor, but had actually never laid eyes on him personally.

 

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Ben said, as he approached both of them, “My name is Ben Cartwright and I was due to meet a Mr Fred Harding at the stage.”  Ben had had dealings with Harding in the past but due to the distance of travel involved he had only met the lawyer on a couple of occasions.  Those times had been quite some time ago, as well, so the recognition wasn’t so forthcoming.

 

The taller of the two men now turned and faced Ben “I am Fred Harding,” the man replied and held out his hand towards him.  

 

“Its been a long time, Fred,” Ben said, as he tried to take in Harding’s features and jog his memory.  “I apologize for not being able to meet  you at the stage”

 

“Its quite alright, Ben, I was just arranging a room here at the hotel,” Fred now said.

 

“I have had my hands full since sending you that telegram because we  had some major trouble with Joe back at the house last night,” Ben said.  It was now that he could see the shorter man at the reception desk becoming increasingly interested in what he and Fred had to say.

 

Fred turned at the frown on Ben’s face and noticed Simpson immediately turn away as though he was not interested in the reunion of the other two men.

 

“Let’s go back to the Ponderosa and I will explain what has happened,” Ben now suggested, hoping for more private surroundings.  

 

“I will be back later on this afternoon, clerk,” Fred now informed the man behind the desk and took possession of his room key.

 

“There is plenty of room at the Ponderosa for you to stay, Fred, if you wish,” Ben now offered.

 

“Thanks, Ben, but during these sort of things I like to keep a room in the town just in case.  You never know when you might need it.  Thank you for the invitation.  Let’s go and meet this family of yours and talk about what is going to happen at the trial,” Harding explained.

 

Ben went about hiring a mount for Fred from the livery stable once they left the hotel so that they could travel back to the ranch.  

 

Most of the ride home was done in silence.  Ben’s thought were about what might be happening back at home, and Fred’s attention was focused on the landscape that they were riding through.  He didn’t get the chance to travel away very much and never to such remote townships like Virginia City.  He couldn’t help but think that sometimes the beauty of these small places was lost because people in the bigger towns and cities never knew about them.

 

Hoss and Adam heard the sound of horses approaching outside and went outside to greet their father and the lawyer.  “Can I take your horse, Sir?” Hoss asked in a respectful tone of Harding.

 

“Thank you kindly,” Fred said, as he dismounted and handed the reins to the overly large gentleman in front of him. He had descriptions about the Cartwright boys over the years from Ben and his various communications, but those never did any real justice to the people he met in person.

 

“Fred Harding, this is my middle son, Eric, or as we like to call him, ‘Hoss’,” Ben stated as he went through the formal introductions.  Hoss looked sheepishly away at his real name being used.  He was rarely called Eric by his family.

 

“’Hoss’ it is, then,” Fred said in a friendly tone as he shook the large hand. 

 

Adam now walked forward.  “Fred this is my eldest boy, Adam,” Ben now said, as Adam shook Harding’s hand in a firm but friendly manner.

 

“Mr Harding,” Adam returned whilst looking the lawyer up and down and trying to gauge just how much assistance he was going to be able to give to his younger brother and his whole family during the difficult days ahead.

 

“A pleasure to finally put faces to the names I have heard all these years, Ben,” Fred said, as he, Ben and Adam now walked towards the front door of the house.

 

“A very nice looking family you have, Ben,” Fred now said in general conversation as they entered the house, and he gazed about at the sparse but  tasteful decoration.  It was obvious to anybody who walked into the main room of the house that this was a home occupied by men only.  It wasn’t messy or untidy, Hop Sing saw to that on a daily basis.   But folk couldn’t help but notice the lack of femineity with objects such as flowers in vases and various other trinkets that could be normally seen on the mantelpiece above the fireplace.

 

“You haven’t met my youngest son yet,” Ben now said to Harding.  “He is the whole reason I asked you to come out here.  He has been through some very difficult times, and we thought we had just turned a corner with his injuries healing when there was another incident last night.”

 

 

 

“Little Joe was asleep last time I checked, Pa,” Adam now informed his father.  Joe had been awake for most of the time Ben was away, but as the morning wore on, his strength had been eroded away by fear.  With his fresh injuries still causing him some discomfort and his older ones still reminding him of what he had been forced to endure, it didn’t take long for the tiredness to creep back up on him again.  He had been asleep for about half an hour when Fred Harding and his father rode into the yard.

 

“Leave him sleep, Ben, I can meet him later and talk about what is going to happen at this trial,” Fred said, not wanting to disturb Joe for the time being.  “While we are waiting for him to awake again, why don’t you tell me how much you know about what happened to him and about what happened last night.  We don’t have very much time to prepare.  The trial is only the day after tomorrow. and we need to be ready.”

 

Ben and his two eldest boys now seated themselves in the living room along with Fred Harding.  Hop Sing was soon at their side. serving hot cups of coffee and a various assortment of small sugar-coated biscuits. 

 

“Well, this is what happened as far as we know, Fred ……..” Ben began.  Fred carefully listened to his friend give a detailed description about the morning Joseph had left for school and not returned.  Ben told him about finding the horses along the road to Virginia City and even showed him the contents of the ransom note.  

 

He finished up with telling Fred about the search that had been conducted and how they had found Joe and in what condition they had found him.  They told him about  Roy Coffee detaining Griffiths in Virginia City when he had possession of Joe’s hand-carved saddlebags and his denial of knowing who they belonged to.

 

“Little Joe, is it?” Harding now asked, using the nickname that he had heard the family use in loving tones during the whole conversation.

 

“Yes, short for Joseph.  I am afraid old habits die hard,” Ben chuckled as he thought about how long Joe had that name.  It seemed he had received it the very first day he was born into this world and probably would still have it when he was a grey old man.

 

“Little Joe, how is he coping with what has happened to him?  Has he sat down and had a heart-to-heart talk with any of you about what he experienced at this abandoned shack?” Fred asked, turning the conversation back to a serious matter.

 

 

 

“Up until yesterday we thought he was doing pretty well,” Ben began to explain.  “He didn’t blurt out the answers to our questions, if that is what you are asking.  But he seemed to be doing relatively well, considering all.  It was our family doctor Paul Martin who suggested that we let him find his feet on his own a little and let him regain some of his lost independence.”

 

“Now, tell me in detail what happened yesterday,” Fred asked, knowing that all the recent events were painful enough for the family to relive.  He had been taking careful and accurate notes during the whole conversation in preparation for his trial.

 

Ben then proceeded to tell Fred about leaving Joe alone for the night with Hop Sing and having to meet the defence lawyer in Virginia City.  He was quick to point out that the defence lawyer didn’t turn up at the arranged time, either.  Ben then continued the story and included as much of Hop Sing’s words as possible as he was the only one who had real first hand knowledge about what happened.

 

Fred Harding had been professional enough to keep his feelings to himself during the conversations.  He shuddered inwardly at what Ben Cartwright’s youngest had apparently endured.  But now, on hearing the account of what had happened only the day before with Thomas returning to scare his victim once more, his bones were chilled to the core about just what the boy had been put through.  He could scarcely imagine how anybody could cope with the multitude of emotions that would have been the result of such harrowing experiences.  He could see that he would have to use very gently hands with Joe during the trial.

 

“Do you think Joe might be awake now so that I can talk to him, Ben?” Harding now asked.  Ben looked at his watch and saw that what seemed only minutes during their conversation had actually been about two hours.  Where did all the time go, Ben wondered himself.

 

“We can go and see, Fred,” Ben replied, and they both got off their chairs and headed towards the staircase.  Adam and Hoss remained seated in the living room.  There would already be too many people in the room when their father and Fred got there.  They were sure that Ben would alert them if they were needed later.

 

Ben went first and knocked lightly on the closed door to his youngest son’s room.  When he didn’t receive an answer, he cautiously and quietly turned the door knob and opened the door, fully expecting that Joe was still asleep.  He was a little confused and slightly alarmed when he could see the bed empty. 

 

He opened the door fully and walked into the room to make sure of things before he panicked for no reason.  He gave a huge sigh of relief when he spotted Joe sitting on a chair by the window.  The window itself was still fully closed.   After Thomas’s break-in, Joe was ever more aware of having doors and windows locked,  just in case Thomas came back again.  

 

After the incident itself, Ben had gone to great lengths to ensure that there were always hands in the yard itself, ready and armed with their guns in case Thomas decided to try to get to Joe again.  Despite all these genuine efforts of his father, Joe couldn’t help but not feel safe in his own home.   The curtains were drawn apart a fraction.  Just enough to let some light into the room.   

 

Joe now turned and jumped slightly at the sound of footsteps behind him.  He had been lost too deep within his own thoughts to hear anybody approach his room or knock on the door.

 

Ben saw the flinch and regretted not having given sufficient warning to his son.  Joe’s eyes were now squarely fixed on the stranger in the room.   Fred could not help but feel that he was adding to the young man’s anxiety.  He could see Joe’s eyes darting around the room.   It took all of his willpower for Joe to finally look at Fred while trying to hide his nervousness.

 

“Joseph, this is Mr Harding.  He is going to be the prosecutor and your attorney for the trial in a couple of days,” Ben now informed his son.    His gaze never left Little Joe’s face as he tried to gauge the boy’s physical and mental state.

 

“Nice to meet you, Joseph,” Fred said, as he stepped forward and offered a handshake, “I just wish we were meeting under better circumstances,” he added.

 

“Hello, Mr Harding,” Joe said in a quiet voice as he gave a somewhat evasive handshake. “Please call me Joe.”

 

“Joe, Mr Harding wants to talk to you about what is going to happen at the trial. He may need to make some notes about what you can remember………” Ben left the sentence incomplete.  He didn’t want to add words like kidnap and ransom at this stage, but they couldn’t delay the process much longer.

 

 

 

 

“There’s not much to tell,” Joe said and then turned back towards the window, turning his face away from his father and the attorney.  He didn’t want to give his true feelings away by having them written all over his face.  “I didn’t see a real lot,” he finally added.  He knew that Harding would need more than those few words as to what happened.

 

Ben was about to say something to Joe about co-operating as much as possible when Fred silently held up his hand to halt him for a moment.  Fred knew that Joe was a very scared and possibility angry young man right now, no matter how much he tried to hide it.  He would need to take a different approach to get any information and he would have to tread incredibly carefully.

 

Fred walked over towards the window and stood beside Joe for a minute, looking out the window.  He didn’t say a word.  He wanted Joe to try and make the first move.

 

“Nice weather we are having at the moment,” Fred now commented as he gazed out the window.  He knew that the weather outside was the furthest thing from Joe’s mind at the moment, but it was meant to get the boy to open up even just a little about the world around them.

 

“I suppose so,” Joe replied in an uninterested voice.  “What difference does the weather have with anything?”

 

Fred knew from that statement that his young client was not in the mood for small talk and so he changed his tactics again. He now turned towards Joe to speak.

 

“I am going to try and help you as much as I can at the trial, Joe,” Fred said.  Joe now turned towards the lawyer with doubt in his eyes.  “But I need you to help me do it,” he said in a very gentle voice.  He placed a hand on the boy’s slim shoulders for reassurance.

 

Joe now looked over towards his father as if to verify what Fred was saying to be true.  He wanted to believe, he really did.  But the demons that plagued him at night and the memories that haunted him during the day prevented him from having faith in the people that wanted to help him the most.

 

Ben took no time at all to nod his head in acknowledgement to Fred’s statement and now walked over to his son and placed a comforting arm around his shoulders.  “We are all here to help you, Joe.”

 

 

 

Joe now sighed heavily and walked over towards his bed.  He sat on the foot end of the bed and looked up at Fred and asked, “What do you want to know?”  Deep down inside all he could hear was the sound of Thomas’s words echoing about what would happen to him if he revealed his kidnapper’s identity. 

 

Ben sat on a chair beside Joe, ready to support his son wherever he needed it.   Fred now sat on the other chair in the room, a little away from both Ben and Joe.  He pulled out a notebook from his briefcase and a pen to make his notes.

 

“How much do you remember about what happened to you, Joe?” Fred asked first. 

 

“Not much.  They knocked me out when they took me from the road, and I didn’t wake up until I was at the shack.   I was hit on the head, so I don’t remember very much at all after being taken to the shack,” Joe answered. This sounded like a most plausible reason for the lack of information he was willing to give to the attorney.

 

Fred’s mind, though, was already taking in certain words that Joe said and turning them into questions  “You said ‘they’.  Do you mean more than one person took you from your family, Joe?

 

Joe silently kicked himself a little at the man’s quick intellect “Um, well, when I was at the shack, they kept me in a little room so I couldn’t escape, but I heard more than one voice,” Joe said, as his brain tried to come up with the evasive answers.

 

“So there was more than one,” Fred confirmed.  “Are you able to tell us anything about their description, Joe?  What they were wearing, what they looked like, any distinguishing marks?”

 

Joe’s face paled slightly at the mention of ‘distinguishing marks’ as his mind took him back to the shack when he had been face to face with Thomas.  The scar.  He would never forget that scar as long as he lived. 

 

Ben saw his son’s colour pale and was immediately concerned although he couldn’t figure out what had caused such a reaction in his son.   Maybe Joe remembered the men who took him more than they all thought.

 

“Are you alright, Joe?” Fred asked before continuing any further.

 

Joe couldn’t find his voice as he battled to control his fear and regain his composure, so he simply nodded his head to say that he was alright.  It was far from true, but he nodded anyway.

 

“Um…….. I can’t really tell you anything about them because I was blindfolded when I woke up in the shack,” Joe finally said.  Ben handed him a glass of water from the bedside table to help him get his voice back.

 

For the next twenty minutes, Fred tried a number of other questions to try and establish what Joe knew or didn’t know about the men who took him,  especially about the man on trial, Danny Griffiths.  But Joe was just as determined to be evasive about the questions as when he started.  He didn’t want to deliberately lie to the lawyer or to his father, but he knew he couldn’t tell them anything about Thomas that would identify him. 

 

You know what will happen if you tell, Thomas’s voice kept reminding him over and over again.

 

By the end of the time, Fred gave Ben a look that signalled he was finished with the interview for the time being. Both men knew that Joe was trying his best not to remember what happened.  Neither of them blamed him for not wanting to relive the horror of his entrapment.  But neither of them wanted to go into the courtroom unprepared, either.  Griffiths’s attorney wasn’t going to be lenient towards Joe, no matter how much or an ordeal the boy had been forced to endure.

 

By now Ben could also see that although the interview had only taken a few minutes, the strain of such an array of emotions during that time had drained Joe’s already depleted energy levels and fatigue was beginning to show on the young man’s features.

 

“I will let you talk to Joe alone, Ben, and I will meet you downstairs,” Fred now said, as he got up and prepared to go back downstairs.  “Thank you, Joe.  You did very well.  Don’t worry about a thing.  Everything will run smoothly at the trial.”

 

Once Fred had left the room, Joe looked at his father expecting to see disappointment on his face.  He was surprised, though, to see his father looking at him with love and understanding.

 

“I tried to remember, Pa.  I really did, but there are a lot of things that just aren’t clear in my mind,” Joe lied.

 

“I know you tried your best, Joseph.   But right now you need to rest again.  The trial is only in a couple of days and it is not going to be a very pleasant experience.  You leave the courtroom stuff to Mr Harding and me for a while.  You just concentrate on resting and healing yourself.”

 

“Thanks, Pa,” Joe said genuinely.  Somehow, even when he felt rotten inside, his father had a way of making him feel a little better. 

 

Joe could also tell that his body was still very tired and demanded rest.  Without protesting, he now moved back fully onto the bed a little awkwardly because of his injured leg, but finally he managed to lay down and rest his head on the pillow.  He had the beginnings of a headache and the softness of the pillow seemed to soothe the throb just a little.   He sighed loudly again and wondered how he was going to get through all of this.  

 

He closed his eyes whilst he pondered the question, but drifted into a fitful doze before the answer came to him.

 

Ben stood there for a moment, his own emotions in turmoil about how to help his young son.  He wanted to wrap his arms around the boy tightly and make him understand that everything would be alright, but right now that would probably only serve to drive the boy further into himself.    He caressed the boy’s forehead gently for a few minutes until he was sure that Joe was asleep ,and he then quietly left the room.

 

***********************************************************

 

Fred Harding had patiently waited downstairs to talk to Ben and his boys together about the trial.  Whilst Ben had been tending to Joe, Fred had told Adam and Hoss about the small questions they had asked Joe, the questions about what he remembered about the incident.  Fred told Adam and Hoss that he knew Joe was being evasive in his answers and really not wanting to retell his tale to anybody.

 

“He’s asleep.” Ben informed them as he descended the stairs to questioning looks.  Ben now looked directly at Fred and hoped his learned friend had some answers about what they were going to do at the trial. 

 

“Try not to worry too much about Joe’s answers to my questions, Ben,” Fred now said, trying to ease the concern he saw on Ben’s face.  “Joe went through a terrible ordeal, more than most of us probably could possibly have endured.  It is only natural that he doesn’t want to be forced to remember things he would rather forget.  He will be able to tell us his story in his own good time come the trial.   Nobody will rush him.   He can take his time and have his friends and family around him to support him when he does relay his story to the court.”

 

 

 

“I hope you’re right, Fred,” Ben said with a little doubt in his mind that Joe would speak at all once in the courtroom.   “I just don’t want to put him through any more hurt than is absolutely necessary.  He is in a very fragile state of mind at the moment with both attacks.  We all need to help him regain his confidence and self-esteem.”

 

“That’s why I was going to suggest to you, for all of you, including Joseph, to stay at the International Hotel in Virginia City tomorrow before the trial begins, Ben,” Fred now suggested, changing the topic of conversation a little.

 

“Do you think that is necessary, Fred?” Ben now asked.  Ben thought that being at the Ponderosa with his family would help Joe before he was forced to face the court.

 

“Yes, I do.  Joe is going to need to rest during the trial both mentally and physically due to his injuries.  I noticed that his leg is still causing him a great deal of discomfort.  I have that room at the hotel, its not going to get much other use other than from myself.  You three could bring Joe there tomorrow afternoon.  Give him a little chance to relax and have a decent meal and some much needed rest before the trial day.”

 

“How do you boys feel about the idea of staying in town tomorrow night?” Ben now asked Hoss and Adam.  Whatever the decisions were over the next couple of days, Ben was determined to make them joint decisions that involved all the family’s opinion.  What was happening was affecting them all so it was only common sense that any arrangements made be ones that included Adam and Hoss as well.

 

“I don’t mind at all, Pa,” Hoss said immediately.  Adam, on the other hand, thought for a minute.  His mind was going over the advantages and disadvantages of such a move.  His first concern was like that of his father towards his brother Joe and how he would feel about staying somewhere else before the trial.

 

After carefully considering all of the options available to them, he now gave his well thought out answer.  “I don’t have any objections to the move.  I can see where the room will be useful, just like Mr Harding says.  But how are we going to convince Joe that it is a good idea?” he now replied with a question of his own.

 

“Maybe you could help explain it to him, Adam,” Ben now said.  He, of course, was quite willing to attempt telling his son about the need to move closer into town before the trial.  But sometimes the relationship between his eldest and youngest son proved more powerful than any words a father could think of. 

 

Adam had become the master of persuasion at times on the ranch, knowing where to say the right thing in situations that most people walked away from.

 

“Gee, thanks, Pa,” Adam said good-naturedly.  He knew his father wasn’t forcing the task upon him, but he knew that he would need all of his skills to try and convince Joe. 

 

“I will talk to him after supper,” Adam now suggested, not wanting to deprive his brother of whatever meagre rest he was taking.

 

“I will see you in town tomorrow, then, Ben,” Fred said, giving a wink towards Adam as if to say that he knew Adam would already have won his brother by that time.

 

Ben now followed Fred out to his horse and waited until the man was out of sight before coming back into the house.

 

***********************************************************

 

Little Joe had woken up later that afternoon, but continued to remain withdrawn and non-responsive at their attempts to bring him out of his sullen mood.   Hoss had taken measures into his own hands about trying to cheer up his little brother and he had taken the checker board and pieces to Joe’s room, hoping to at least have some one on one contact with him.

 

Hoss was a little disappointed, however, to see Joe obviously more distracted about other things than playing the game.  Joe really hadn’t wanted to play in the first place, but didn’t have the heart to turn away from his big brother’s grinning face.  He knew Hoss was trying to make a genuine effort to cheer him up so he told Hoss that he would play only a couple of games. 

 

Right from the outset, though, even before Hoss had set the pieces up on either side of the board, Joe’s attention seemed to be elsewhere but right in front of him.   Normally, Joe wouldn’t have any trouble beating his brother at such a simple game, but today, after two games, Hoss found himself having won easily on both occasions.  He even scratched his head silently at a few of the moves Joe had made.  The moves were such that not even a novice player would normally make them without knowing that it would result in his piece being captured by his opponent.

 

 

 

Joe had kept his promise of a few games, no matter how badly he played.  After four games, though,  Hoss decided to see if he could get Joe to tell him what was bothering him so much.   In the past, Joe had always come to his father Ben or to Adam to confide in them, but there was also a very close relationship between the two of them. 

 

“You alright, Joe?” Hoss asked honestly.  He didn’t have the fancy words that Adam had learned from college or the soothing ones that his Pa often uttered to Joe when he was upset about something.  Hoss just spoke things as plain as he saw them, but hoped that Joe would still see the offer of help in the same way.  Hoss just wanted to be there for his brother Joe when he needed it. 

 

“Sure, Hoss,” came the dull, uninterested reply from Joe.  He was staring out the window again and didn’t even look at Hoss when he said the words.

 

“Is there anything you want to talk about, Joe?” Hoss now asked, the words feeling like an uneasy lump in his throat as he spoke them.

 

Joe did turn to his brother this time.  He knew that Hoss only meant well.   “There is nothing to talk about,” he said firmly.

 

“Joe, I don’t know how else to help ya, boy,” Hoss now said.  “I don’t want to upset you but whatever is on your mind is eating up inside.   We all want to help you, Joe.”

 

“I’m fine, Hoss,” Joe replied and then started to move about stiffly on the bed to change his position.   “I am tired,” he added and now turned on his side and closed his eyes, appearing to be wanting to sleep.

 

Hoss sighed as he knew this was Joe’s way of saying that he didn’t want to discuss it anymore.  He picked up the chess pieces and the board and walked out of the room.

 

“How is he, son?” Ben asked from his desk as he saw Hoss’s slumped figure walk down the stairs.  He could see from his large son’s expression that Hoss hadn’t managed to cheer his brother up like he had wanted to.

 

“He’s downright upset, Pa,” Hoss answered as he placed the chess board and pieces back in their normal position on the coffee table.  “I tried to talk to him and ask him if he wanted to talk.  He just said that there was nothing to talk about and then lay down, saying he was tired.  He’s not really tired, Pa.  He’s just avoiding us all.”

 

“I know, son.  I know,” Ben said, as he got up and placed a firm but comforting hand on his son’s broad shoulder.   “Its going to be a tough road for us all.  We just have to be there for him when he is ready to talk.”

 

***********************************************************

 

After supper that evening, Adam was trying to prepare what he was going to say to Joe to convince him about moving to the International Hotel in the morning.  Although Joe had only feigned sleep initially to avoid Hoss’s questions, in the end he had fallen into a fitful doze.

 

Ben had wandered up to his son’s room just before the family sat down to the evening meal, but upon seeing Joe asleep, he decided not to disturb the young man.   He told Adam that he could take a tray of supper up to the room when he went to have his little talk with Joe.

 

Adam now sighed as he grabbed the tray that Hop Sing had prepared for Little Joe.  The words were no clearer in his mind now than when he first tried to work them out.  He was just going to have to talk to Joe about going to the hotel without the rehearsal.  

 

He walked up the stairs and headed towards the door.  He knocked on the door lightly and then looked down briefly to see his father and brother looking back at him, hoping Adam would know what to say.

 

“Its open,” came the quiet voice from inside.  Adam now walked inside with the tray in his hands.

 

“Hi, little brother,” he greeted Joe.   Joe looked at him and gave him a wan smile but didn’t say anything.  He looked at the tray of food that Adam had brought with him.  Just like the checkers and Hoss, he really didn’t want to have it, but didn’t say anything to the contrary. 

 

Adam seemed to relax a little when he saw Joe pick up a fork and play with the food on his plate.  Not much was being eaten, but at least he was trying.

 

“So, why did Pa sent you up here?” Joe asked, knowing that Adam had been sent for one reason or another.

 

Adam was a little taken aback that Joe suspected why he was there in the first place but quickly regained his composure and hide his shock enough so it wasn’t noticed.  “What makes you think I was sent up here to talk to you?” he now asked, genuinely interested.

 

“Well, let’s see, Pa and Mr Harding were up here this morning, asking a bunch of questions and wanting to know what I knew before the trial.   After I said I didn’t know very much, Hoss came up later in the day and tried the same ploy after a few games of checkers.  Now you’re here after Hoss.  I am just wondering when Hop Sing will appear at my beside with the same questions,”  Joe now said.  He didn’t really mean the words to sound as sarcastic as they did.

 

“You know we are all just trying to help you, Joe,” Adam now said, noting the slight resentment in his brother’s voice.

 

“Yeah, that’s the same line I have been hearing all day, too,” Joe replied and put a spoonful of food into his mouth before he said anything else.

 

“Well, if you put it like that, I won’t beat around the bush then,” Adam said.  “I came up here to tell you about the arrangements that have been made for tomorrow morning,” he added and left the sentence unfinished.  He got the desired result, though, as Joe now looked up from his plate.

 

“What arrangements?” he asked plainly.

 

“Mr Harding suggested that it might be better if all of us stayed tomorrow night in Virginia City.  He just wants to make sure that you get enough rest before the trial starts.  It is not going to be an easy experience for you.  At least with the room, if you get tired during the day, you can go and have a lie down if it all gets too much.”

 

“Whatever,” Joe said in the same uninterested tone of voice as before and now shifted his gaze once more to his plate of barely touched food.

 

“You mean you don’t object?” Adam asked, a little surprised that Joe wasn’t shouting and yelling his list of reasons why not by now. 

 

“Well, it seems that everybody else is deciding what is right and what is not for me lately,” Joe replied, still not looking while he spoke to Adam.  “I don’t say I like the idea, in fact, I really don’t want to go.  But at the end of the day, I really don’t care.  If you and Pa and the others want me to stay somewhere else, so be it.”

 

Adam could still hear the slight bitterness in Joe’s voice and knew from his body language that Joe was truthful when he said he didn’t agree with the arrangement.  From past experience, though, Adam expected his brother to be jumping up and down and shouting at the top of his lungs about his protests. 

 

 

The fact that he didn’t made  Adam worry all he more about his self-confidence and the short fiery temper that just wasn’t there like it used to be.  He didn’t press the issue though.  Joe had said he didn’t want to go, but would if he was told to.  He just hoped  that Joe would be in a better frame of mind by tomorrow once they reached the hotel.

 

“It really is to help you, Joe.  And don’t worry about the court room because Hoss and I are going to make sure that everything is secure.  You won’t have to worry about anything but answering Mr Harding’s questions.  When it is all over we can all come back home and get on with our lives once again.  Sleep well, little brother,” Adam

finally said, as he got off the bed and left his brother’s room.

 

Yeah, everything will be fine once its over Joe thought to himself after Adam had left.  He knew that it wasn’t going to be fine like everybody said.  None of them could hear Thomas’s threats running through their heads like he could at the moment.  Nobody could remember his face and the scar that almost wanted to make him retch at the sight on it.   Joe knew that things were going to be far from fine once he reached the courtroom.   He put the plate of food aside, knowing that he didn’t need to keep up that little charade anymore either. 

 

“How did it go son?” Ben asked before Adam had even reached the bottom of the stairs.  

 

“Alright, I guess,” Adam said a little cautiously.  “He said he didn’t want to go but would because everybody was making the decisions around here for him anyway,” he said, as he relayed Joe’s opinion to his father.

 

“Well, I suppose half a battle won is better than none at all,” Ben said, the concern for his son’s attitude clearly displayed on his face and in his speech.

 

“He really is determined to shut the whole world out, Pa.  He trying his best to ignore the problem and thinks it will just go away if he doesn’t talk about it.  I really don’t know how he is going to cope when he is forced onto the witness stand,” Adam now said, voicing his own observations.

 

“We will just have to be there to support him as best we can, Adam,” Ben now said, having almost the same conversation with his oldest son as he had done with Hoss a little earlier.

 

***********************************************************

 

The morning came around quickly enough, and it was now time to start preparing to move to the International Hotel in Virginia City.

 

Ben and the boys worked to make sure that the ranch hands knew what to do over the next couple of days.  The ranch foreman, Charlie, had promised that everything would run just as smoothly with the Cartwrights in town.

 

Each of them had gotten together a small amount of clothes to last them the duration of the trial.  As soon as Adam had finished his own packing, he moved quietly about Joe’s room to do the same for his brother.  Adam looked over towards the bed and noted that his brother seemed to be sleeping quite deeply at the moment.  A couple of times, Adam had inadvertently dropped some items on the floor with a thud only to hastily look over and see that the noise hadn’t disturbed Little Joe in the slightest.

 

Adam would not know that Joe had lain awake for many hours last night, thinking about what he was going to say when he was placed in the witness box.  He had to think hard of answers to give that would not be lies but also wouldn’t give Thomas’s identity away.  He had only fallen asleep shortly before the rest of his family awoke to start the day.

 

By lunch time  Joe was now awake and used his crutches together with the steady support of his brother Hoss to descend the stairs with his injured leg and climb into the back of the wagon that had been suitably prepared.  Hoss had gone to great lengths to ensure that although the trip to Virginia City was a relatively short one, it was also to be as comfortable as possible for Joe.  Hoss had lined the bottom with a spare mattress and then covered the mattress with arm loads of blankets and quilts.  He just hoped that all the padding would be enough to absorb the bumps and knocks from the road. 

 

Ben had half expected Joe to have a change of heart this morning about going to stay at the hotel and announce that he wasn’t going anywhere.  But Joe had not said very much at all that morning about anything.  Every time his father looked towards him to see if he was alright, the boy seemed to be lost in his own thoughts and in day-dreaming the time away.

 

Joe’s silence remained for the entire trip to Virginia City as well.   Ben sat beside him whilst Adam and Hoss sat on top of the buck board and guided the team along the dirt road.  A few times Ben had asked Joe if he was feeling alright, but all he got in reply was a curt nod or the words “just fine”.  He was very worried about how his son was going to cope over the next two to three days.

 

Fred Harding had greeted the Cartwrights inside the hotel after they had pulled up outside and helped Joe down.   Adam and Hoss guided Joe up to the room Fred was occupying.  Once inside, they could see two distinct areas to the room.  There was the living area where Fred was currently working on his plan for the court room the next day, and then there was the sleeping quarters.  All was very spacious and the Cartwrights genuinely thanked the lawyer for allowing their indulgence in such luxury. 

 

Fred had been generous enough to respect the Cartwright family’s privacy and so rented the adjoining suite next to the one he had already rented on the day of his arrival.   There was a doorway between the two suites, but both remained completely separate.  Fred would spend as much time with the family as they requested, but thought that there would be times when Little Joe or the other boys would rather have each other for company and support rather than somebody who wasn’t part of the family.

 

When they first arrived there had been a few words spoken between Fred and Ben about who was paying for the accommodation.  Ben thought it only right that the family pay since they were using his services.  Fred, on the other hand, was just as determined at his counterpart and insisted that he pay.  At the end of the day, they came to an agreeable compromise and the bill was to be split completely down the middle to satisfy everyone.  Ben smiled a little to himself at the tough battle of words he had briefly with Fred in a friendly way.  He just hoped that Fred was just as inept with such determination and tenacity when it came to the trial the next day.

 

Ben had ordered room service to provide lunch in the room itself.  He had asked Joe if he wanted to eat in the restaurant downstairs, but Joe told his father that he wasn’t very hungry, anyway.  Once the food came, Joe picked at his plate whilst everyone else ate their lunches.  He then declared that he had a headache and was going to lie down on one of the beds for a short while.   Ben checked on him after finishing his meal and found Joe to be sound asleep. 

 

Adam and Hoss told their father that they were going to go and check out the set out of the court room for tomorrow and make sure the security was adequate.  Fred continued to work on his case against Griffiths.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Towards the latter part of the afternoon, Adam and Hoss were still out of the room and Fred was still working at the table in the living room.  Ben had tried to follow Fred the best he could, but after about two hours the legal jargon and matters of law were a little beyond his comprehension.  He felt he was being more of a hindrance to Fred by asking his endless stream of questions rather than trying to assist the man in preparing for court.  He decided to take himself into the other room to check on Joe. 

 

Ben walked into the room and saw Joe was still asleep so he decided to pick up one of the books on the bedside table left by the hotel management and do some light reading until Adam and Hoss got back.  He hadn’t read but a few pages when he looked over and saw his son beginning to awake from his slumber.

 

Joe opened his eyes and rubbed at them tiredly for a moment.  He looked about the room and had to get his bearings and remind himself of where he was at first.  Once he remembered he was at the hotel he started pulling himself up into a sitting position on the bed.  It was now that he noticed someone else in the room.  He looked over and saw his father intently watching him from the other side of the room.

 

“Feel a little better, son?” Ben asked once Joe seemed awake enough.

 

“Yeah, sort of,” Joe replied and to prove it got off the bed and walked awkwardly over to the two French doors leading out onto the balcony.  He felt like the room was closing in on him and he opened the doors to allow some fresh air to come inside.

 

He didn’t walk out onto the balcony, but remained just inside the room looking out at the streets of Virginia City and seemingly lost in his own thoughts again.

 

Ben’s concern for his son got the better of him again as he walked over towards his son and stood behind him.  “Do you want to talk?” he asked, deliberately not selecting a topic for the conversation. 

 

Joe wasn’t fooled, however, as he felt his father’s hand on his slender shoulder.   He knew all too well what his father wanted to talk about.   The frustration level in him had been building up for days now.  He had been suppressing it and suppressing it until he almost couldn’t bear to keep his feelings in anymore.  He felt like running out onto the balcony and screaming at the top of his lungs just to release some of the anger and bitterness that was inside of him.

 

He shrugged off the hand on his shoulder and now turned away from the window entirely and retraced his awkward steps across to the other side of the room.  Now he turned and faced his father.

 

“I know you’re scared, son,” Ben now said gently as he looked at the accusing look on Joe’s face.  He could see his son struggling with his emotions and trying so hard to keep control.

 

“Its going to work out, Joseph,” Ben started to say.  He was unprepared for the violent reaction that he would provoke from his son.

 

“How can you stand there and say that?” Little Joe now accused his father. The tension in the room was very thick.  Joe looked at his father with fear and anger in his eyes and scolding words on his tongue.   “How can you stand there and tell me that everything is going to be alright?  We all know darned well that it is not.”

 

“I have got to go into that court room tomorrow and get in that witness box.  Everybody keeps telling me that it will be fine.  I am the one who is scared to open his bedroom window at night or leave the house I grew up in.  So why do I feel like I am the one on trial here?” his voice was trembling slightly and his emotions were on the verge of betraying him.

 

“Joseph,  we are only trying to help you,” Ben said with a little sadness in his tone.  He knew that they were handling the boy with kid-gloves and wrapping him up in cotton wool.  The only thing that they were getting from it all was an angry young man, who felt like he was suffocating from all the attention.  Joseph often hid his true feelings at the best of times and with something like this happening, it only made the kid build his barricades around him that bit higher. 

 

“Your brothers and I will be there to back you up all the way.  We won’t let anybody bully you,” Ben added,  trying to reassure his son. “I know it is going to be difficult for you, but when you go in there, all you need to do is tell the truth.  

 

“Truth!………” Joe spat.  “The truth is that there are things that are going to come out in that courtroom that you may not want to hear, Pa,” Joe said, as he thought about his family and friends hearing about what had happened to him in the abandoned shack. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tears now welled in his eyes as Joe fought against his frustrations.  How could he tell them how scared he was? Didn’t they know that he lay awake most nights, remembering Thomas’s face as he shot at the chair?  Didn’t they see the palms of his hands that were sweating from his nervousness.  His hands were clenched so tight at times that his fingernails dug into them and left marks.  

 

Every time he felt a twinge of pain from his injured leg or felt one of the fading bruises on his ribs, he was taken back to the exact moment that he received them.  Taken back to the abandoned shack.  He could almost feel the rope around his hands again and the chafing marks around his neck.  The memories never seemed to go away.  Never.

 

“I just need to be alone right now, Pa,” Joe finally said in a quiet voice.

 

Ben nodded his head and fought against the urges that told him his son needed him to stay with him.  He had just been telling himself about how much they were all suffocating him.  Without saying anything else, he made himself be strong and do as his son asked of him.

 

When he reached the living room he could see Adam and Hoss standing just outside the door.  The looks on their faces told him that they had heard most of the conversation between him and Joe.  There was one question that stood out the most for all three of them.  What were those things that Joe spoke about when he said there were things they didn’t know about?

 

***********************************************************

 

The next morning, there was no mention of what had transpired the night before.  Nobody tried to drag up anything about the harsh words that Joe had said to his father.

 

Ben and his boys all reminded themselves that they were there to support Joe, no matter what.  In the back of their minds, though, they couldn’t help but wonder what things Joe had been talking about when he said it was better that they didn’t find out about them.

 

Joe had eaten a small amount of food at the encouragement of his family.  He also knew that he wouldn’t be able to last the day without some nourishment in his stomach.  

 

 

 

 

By 8.30 that morning, they had all made their way down to the courtroom to prepare for the beginning of the trial at 9.00am.  Joe sat in the front row of chairs, lost in his own thoughts for a few minutes while Fred went about getting his paperwork in order and making sure he was ready to proceed.

 

Joe looked around the room.  This was the room that everybody was saying he could feel safe in.  That it was a place that was respected by most people.  Instead, the only thing he could sense from the cold, hard wooden surfaces and the plain, undecorated desks and chairs was the sense of alienation and accusations.  The atmosphere was almost as cold and hard as they were, and the feeling of unfriendliness all around Little Joe. 

 

A few minutes before the trial was due to begin, Danny Griffiths was brought over from the jailhouse by Sheriff Roy Coffee.   He was still in handcuffs when placed in the dock.  He did his best to glare at Little Joe and try and unnerve him. 

 

Joe diverted his eyes and tried to look somewhere else to stop the well of emotions that were starting to multiply within him.  Every time his eyes were drawn back to Griffiths, the only memories he had were the ones where he had been laughing at Joe’s torment and torture.  Joe had to bury his head in his hands to stop himself from getting to upset.  He remembered how Griffiths had taken aim at one of the chair legs as he was helplessly suspended by the rope around his neck.  

 

Adam and Ben had noted the paleness of Joe’s face and saw him struggling with his emotions. Although they both knew that Joe wouldn’t appreciate a public display of concern, they walked over to where he was sitting and sat down on either side of him. 

 

By this time, Joe had averted his eyes from Griffiths so as not to give away the cause to his distress.  Ben and Adam both assumed that Joe’s nervousness was his impending time in the witness box and being forced to relive events he would rather forget.  The part about him reliving past events could not have been more correct at the moment.

 

“Are you alright, son?” Ben asked in a gentle voice.

 

“I don’t know if I can do this, Pa,” Joe said in all honesty.

 

“I know you can, Joe,” Adam said, trying to reassure his brother with positive words.

 

Joe looked at his father and brother but left the comment unanswered.  Fred Harding had motioned for Ben and Adam to join him briefly at the bar table where he would conduct the trial.  He was delivering some

last-minute instructions to the older Cartwrights as to how things would proceed in just a few minutes.

 

No matter how hard he tried to fight the feeling, Joe found his gaze wandering back to Griffiths in the dock.  Griffiths knew that he couldn’t afford to make any noticeable gestures at him.  But he wanted to give him a warning all the same. 

 

Thomas had been careful enough to ensure him that everything was taken care of and that he had taken care of things in relation to Little Joe Cartwright.  All messages and instructions had been delivered through either Griffiths lawyer, Eugene Simpson, or through Henry Williams so as not to arouse suspicion.

 

Griffiths had taken confidence in the threats that Thomas had made towards Joe Cartwright and about what would happen to him if he identified any of them.  Hell, Griffiths himself had enough nous about himself to be a little afraid of Thomas.

 

There had been something about the way the man conducted himself, especially back at the abandoned shack after they had kidnapped Cartwright.  

 

Danny now looked directly at Joe Cartwright as he sat in the front row of chairs and silently mouthed a message to him from Butch Thomas. 

 

“He will be watching.”

 

Joe saw and could understand the lip movements that Griffiths made.  He was also very sure of who ‘he’ was.

 

From the moment he had arrived, Joe had anxiously waited to identify any of the people coming into the courtroom.  He was forced to make himself relax again as he recognized one of Virginia’s City own citizens. With the gossip running rife around town about what had happened to Little Joe the first time and the fresh events over the last few days, there wasn’t a person in the town that wasn’t at least a little bit curious about what would happen at the trial.

 

By this time, Eugene Simpson had arrived and he had been taking instructions from his client Danny Griffiths, or had the truth been really known, giving them to Griffiths from Thomas.   Both knew that Thomas would make his appearance at some stage during the trial. 

 

Thomas was the type of person who had to see the results of his own handiwork.  That was one of the main reasons he had made the second attack on Joe Cartwright at the Ponderosa.  He revelled in his own glorification and the fact that he caused such fear in people.  His appearance, though, would be at a time of his choosing.  He wanted to see the knife driven in just a little further before he put his own hand on the handle and twisted it that little bit more.

 

Fred Harding tried to reassure his witness again that everything would be alright.  Joe never acknowledged that he heard the words.  He was again lost in his own thoughts. The whole courtroom was then told to rise by the court Bailiff  “All rise, his honour, Judge Collins, to preside over these proceedings”.

 

All eyes watched the little, balding Judge that appeared from one of the back rooms.  The judge then sat down and looked about his bench to ensure that all of his writing equipment was laid out before him.

 

“You may all be seated,” the Bailiff now informed the packed public gallery.  Everyone compiled with the oral instructions.

 

“Good morning, gentlemen.  This is the matter of the People versus one Danny Griffiths,” the Judge said, as he began his little introduction speech.

 

“Stand up, Mr Griffiths,” the Judge now demanded of the defendant.  Griffiths complied. 

 

“You stand before me, charged that on a date unknown you kidnapped one Joseph Francis Cartwright and caused him actual bodily harm.  You also stand charged before me that you stole two saddlebags, the property of the said Joseph Francis Cartwright, and tried to gain a benefit, namely cash, for the said items when you were not the lawful owner thereof.”

 

Joe inwardly gulped when the Judge had said the words ‘bodily harm’ and involuntarily, his hands moved to his still injured leg and rubbed at the ache that was present. 

 

“Sit down, Mr Griffiths,” the Judge instructed Danny.

 

“Counsel, will you announce your appearances for the purposes of these proceedings, please,”  Judge Collins asked, as he continued with the formal aspects of the trial.

 

“If it pleases the court, Your Honour, my name is Frederick Harding, and I represent the people of Virginia City in this matter,” Harding said, as he introduced himself first in accordance with court room protocol.

 

“If it pleases you, Your Honour, my name is Eugene Simpson, and I will be representing Mr Griffiths, the defendant in these proceedings,” Simpson now said in reply, introducing himself in turn.

 

“These proceedings may be conducted by way of trial with or without a jury.   The election solely rests with the prosecution Mr Harding, which method do you choose here today?”

 

“Your Honour, the prosecution elects to have the matter heard solely before yourself and without the use of the good citizens of Virginia City in a jury.”

 

“Very well, then.  Begin the proceedings, Mr Harding, you have the floor.”

 

“Your Honour, the prosecution calls its first witness, Doctor Paul Martin, to the witness stand.”

 

Doc Martin was seated in the row behind the Cartwrights and now made his way towards the witness stand, which was positioned to the left of the Judge’s bench.

 

The Bailiff approached the Virginia City doctor and placed a Bible in his right hand “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?”

 

“I swear,” Doc Martin replied and then sat down on the hard wooden seat. 

 

Fred now walked around the other side of the prosecution table and stood in front of it to examine the doctor.    “Doctor, do you remember the events that we are here about today?”

 

“Yes, I remember.”

 

“I want you to relay to the court in your own words what you have come to know about this case.  Take your time, but please be as specific as you can and leave no detail out even if you think its not relevant.”

 

 

 

“Well, I am not able to give you too much information about the kidnapping of Little Joe Cartwright.  I wasn’t brought into the matter until after he was found by members of his family and brought home for medical attention.”

 

“I’ll stop you there doctor.  What contact had you had before he was brought home from the shack?”

 

“Well, Ben Cartwright, his father had me take a look at him after he had been on a camping trip with his brother Hoss.  Seems there was a slight accident with a bear cub, and Ben thought it would be better if I take a look at the injury the next day.”

 

“So, before he was taken away from his family, Joe Cartwright seemed in relatively good health to you, doctor?”

 

“Yes, apart from the scratch on his arm, I’d say he was in perfect health.”

 

“Alright, continue what you know about after Joe was brought back to the Ponderosa.”

 

“Well, when I first saw him, he was in grave condition.  He was suffering from exposure in addition to the numerous injuries he had sustained one way or another.”

 

“Are you able to tell the court what those injuries were?”

 

Joe struggled hard to keep his composure during this description.  Why did the doctor need to repeat the injuries?  He had felt the pain every day.  He didn’t need to be reminded about how bad he was hurt.  The bandage on his leg at the moment was still very painful and he still needed to use the crutches to walk properly.  Joe failed to see the sense in dragging up information that was already known.  He turned his head away as the doctor spoke and tried to think about something else to help clear his mind. 

 

“Joe had a very badly injured ankle as the result of it becoming entangled in a trapper’s rusty trap.  The wounds were very deep and required a lot of attention to clean them out.  The wounds needed stitches, and it will still be another few weeks before Joe can put full weight back on his ankle.  His ribs were very badly bruised.   I was surprised that none of them were cracked or broken.  He had innumerable cuts and abrasions on other parts of his body, his feet, his hands.  There was a slight gash to his head where he had been struck with a blunt object.  Although I am not able to tell you what sort of object it was.”

 

Ben and his family could hear the gasps and whispers of shock and surprise as the list of injuries were read out loud.  Ben was barely able to contain his own emotions about hearing of his child’s torment and pain.  He looked over to where Joe was only sitting next to him and knew that the boy was struggling to deal with it as well.

 

Fred Harding inwardly winced at the doctor’s description, but kept up the professional image of the court room.  “Were there any other injuries on Joseph Cartwright when you firstly examined him, Doctor?”

 

Doc Martin thought for a moment before answering the prosecutor’s question  “Yes, there was a very distinct rope impression around his neck.  But there was also another injury.  Only a slight one.  I showed it to his father when I found it because neither of us could work out what it was caused by.”

 

“What was it, Doctor Martin?”

 

“A small perfectly round bruise on his right temple.  Too small to cause any major discomfort or pain.”

 

“And you are still unable to say what caused the bruise to Mr Cartwrights temple?”

 

“No, I am not able to say.”

 

“Did Mr Cartwright ever confide in you as his physician and tell you anything about the person or persons who might have done this to him?”

 

“No, he never did.  I was willing to be a third party for the boy if that’s what he wanted in case he felt unable to go to his family, but he never told me anything about the persons who might have been responsible for these injuries.”

 

“When was the next contact you had with Joseph Cartwright after that night?”

 

“Well, for a while there I had contact with him every day, several times a day because his injuries were so severe and needed constant medical attention.”

 

“How long would you say that you attended Mr Cartwright on a daily basis?”

 

“On a daily basis, I would say for a week.  After that it became more scattered, every two days or so.  That was until the latest incident a few days ago.”

 

“Tell us what you know about that incident, Doctor.”

 

“Well, its not much different from the first occasion.  I came into it once the injuries had taken place.  They weren’t so much life-threatening this time but still required some attention and would be extremely painful for the young man.”

 

“Do you expect Mr Cartwright to have any lasting effects from these incidents, Doctor?”

 

“In terms of physical injuries, I doubt it.  His leg is taking a little longer than I would have liked to heal and it still bothering him to a great degree.  But if you are talking about emotional or physiological scars, then I am not qualified to give evidence on such matters here today.  Those types of matters require a specialist’s opinion, well out of my league.”

 

“But surely, as the young man’s doctor, you have made an informed opinion based on the medical facts before you about how the boy is doing emotionally.”

 

“Well, I have to say that from my past experience and knowledge of Joseph Cartwright over the years, he had definitely become more withdrawn from his family.  He seems to still hold some fears about what happened to him…………”

 

“Objection, Your Honour,” Simpson now said, jumping to his feet and moving in before Doc Martin could finish the sentence. “As the doctor says, he is in no professional capacity to give evidence on matters dealing with emotional or physiological injuries that may have been suffered by the complainant in these matters.”

 

“Yes, Mr Simpson.  Mr Harding, you will have to refrain from asking such questions of this witness and move onto your next question,” the Judge said, in ruling on the objection.  Simpson sat down with a satisfied look on his face of a small battle being won by his side.

 

“I withdraw the question, Your Honour,” Fred said respectfully.  He knew that Simpson would be right there to object to anything that didn’t suit his client.

 

“I have no further questions for this witness, Your Honour,” Fred said, as he shuffled through his papers to make sure that he had finished the examination.

 

“Your witness, Mr Simpson,” the Judge now said to the defence lawyer.

 

“Doctor, you stated in your evidence that there was an unusual mark on Mr Cartwright when you examined him that first night.  Are you able to make an educated guess as to what or who might have caused such an injury.  I realise you have already said that you do not, but I will ask you again, anyway.”

 

“No, I am still very puzzled to this day as to what or who may have caused such a perfectly round circle to the boy’s temple.  Even if he had fallen, the mark is not consistent with being caused by something such as a rock or a protruding stick.  I do not know what caused the mark.”

 

As Ben looked over at his youngest son,  he saw a look on the boy’s face that told him the boy knew exactly what had made the mark.  He saw that the boy’s face was a little pale but still looked fine for the moment.  Joe kept looking at his feet.  The doctor’s descriptions and the questions being asked by both lawyers seemed to be echoing in his head.  He was certain that the noise level inside his head was going to cause him to have a headache by the end of this long day.

 

“What makes you say that the mark around the boy’s neck was made by a rope?  Couldn’t it have been made by something other than a length of rope?”

 

“No” Paul said with affirmation in his voice.  “There was no mistaking what caused the chafing mark on the skin around his neck.”

 

“Why do you say that, Doctor?”

 

“Because I could see the individual rope fibres marked into his skin.   The rope had been so tight around his neck at some stage that the mark took quite a number of days to fade away.  I could see the plaiting of the fibres and the twist of those plaits that made the piece of rope.”

 

Ben clenched his fists in to tight balls at the doctor’s words.  He had been angry when he first seen the marks and knew them to be made by a rope.  Now Doctor Martin was giving explicit descriptions about how tight the rope was and how it caused such painful chafing to his son’s young, tender skin.  He could see the same look of anger in the brown eyes of Adam and the blue ones of Hoss.  

 

Joe was trying to block out the memory of how the rope felt as it was tightened.  He could almost feel it now like it had been when Thomas had lifted him off the ground so his feet wouldn’t touch.   He could still feel the knot at the back of his neck that formed the knot of the noose itself.  His throat became incredibly dry now as he remembered painfully what it felt like to not be able to breath because the rope was so tight.

 

“What do you say caused the gash on his head that you described earlier?”

 

“Like I said before, I don’t know.  The pattern of the injury suggests that it was a blunt object of some kind.  Could have been anything.  The wound itself wasn’t too deep but might have caused Joe to lose consciousness when he received the blow.”

 

“But you are not able to confirm here today that he lost consciousness due to that injury, are you, doctor?”

 

“No, I am not.”

 

“Thank you, Your Honour, I have no further questions for this witness” Simpson said, as he completed his cross-examination of the Doctor.

 

“Thank you, Doctor, you may step down from the witness box,” the Judge now said to Paul.

 

“Your Honour, if it pleases, the family has specifically requested that the Doctor be allowed to stay in the court room in an official capacity today.  As you can see, Mr Cartwright still has difficulty walking without assistance and with his additional injuries, he may require the doctor to administer certain pain reliefs and give other medical attention during the course of today.”

 

“Request allowed.  Let it be noted that the doctor may speak out if he believes Mr Cartwright is becoming unwell during the course of his evidence or at any other time during this trial,” the Judge now said.

 

The Cartwright family collectively sighed in relief at this request.  At least Joe could any medical attention if he needed it.  Paul had planned to stick around anyway, but was glad to be able to monitor Joe more openly.  He had noticed how pale the young man had appeared when he first came into the court room today.  He was afraid that Joe wasn’t getting the correct amount of rest to heal his injuries.

 

 

 

“Your next witness, Mr Harding?” the Judge now asked.

 

“Yes, Your Honour, the prosecution now calls Sheriff Roy Coffee to the stand.”

 

Roy now made his way to the stand.  His deputy stayed beside the defendant, Danny Griffiths, just to make sure that he didn’t try and flee the court room whilst Roy was giving his evidence.

 

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God,” the court Bailiff asked, as the Bible was placed into Roy’s right hand.

 

“I do,” Roy answered and now took his seat  in the witness box.

 

“Could you please state you full and correct name for the court and your occupation, please?” Fred asked, as he began the examination of the law enforcement officer.

 

“My name is Roy Coffee and I am the current Sheriff of Virginia City.”

 

“Can you please relay to the court, in your own words, the events that led up to you having to arrest the defendant?” Fred said, asking his first question.

 

“Yes.  I was patrolling the town like most other days and just happened to walk past the second-hand store that Mr Perkins owned.  I could  hear two people talking inside.  The discussion became a little heated and that’s when that fellow over there grabbed at Mr Perkins, threatening to hurt him.   I told him that he was under arrest for attempted assault and battery on Mr Perkins and then forced him to my jailhouse until I had time to make some further inquiries into the matter.”

 

During the whole time Roy was talking, Eugene Simpson could be seen to be taking some notes at a furious pace.

 

“When was the next time you saw the defendant, Sheriff, after he was released form custody?”

 

“The next time I saw him was when me and Adam Cartwright followed him to an abandoned shack up by Pine Valley.”

 

Fred asked the next question, but fully expected Simpson to be on the ball and object even before the question was finished being asked.  He decided to take a punt and see how far he got, anyway.

 

 “Did Danny Griffiths ever admit anything to you that would tie him to the kidnapping and assault of Joseph Cartwright?”

 

“Yes.  Yes he did.  He started to torment Joe’s brother Adam once we was at the shack……..” Roy started to say.

 

“I object strongly, Your Honour,” Simpson said, as he now jumped to his feet once again.  He also gave a scowling look towards Fred Harding as if to say that the prosecution should know better about allowing the answer to such a question.

 

“Your Honour, the witness cannot answer the question because he will be giving hearsay evidence.  The Sheriff cannot be expected to repeat someone else’s words in court.”

 

“Mr Simpson has a valid point, Mr Harding,” the Judge said, ruling in the defence’s favour.  “Sheriff, you cannot give any evidence here today about what somebody else said or did that the person didn’t say direct to you.  Such talk is called hearsay and is not permissible in a court of law.  Now, did the conversation that the prosecution is asking about take place between you and the defendant?”

 

“No, it was between Danny Griffiths and Adam Cartwright,” the Sheriff answered, a little frustrated that he had the necessary information to give the court about Joe’s kidnapping. Somehow, he was being gagged by legal jargon and being prevented from repeating what he had overheard.

 

“Then I am afraid you will have to answer differently Sheriff, or you will have to rephrase your question, Mr Harding,” the Judge now said, giving the prosecution a stern look of his own.  Fred knew that he had overstepped the boundaries, so to speak, but he was trying to get a spontaneous response from the witnesses that the defence wouldn’t be able to rebut in anyway.

 

“Since these events, Sheriff, have you made any attempts to try and take a statement from Joseph Cartwright?”

 

“Well, I have made some attempts before the latest incident.  At first, the family thought that he needed some time to recover from his injuries and overcome his insecurities.  After the second attack on him, Joe just seemed to clam up to everyone, including his family.  I haven’t been able to get too much information out of him at all about what happened.”

 

“Thank you, Your Honour, no further questions for this witness,” Fred said with a little frustration creeping into his voice.  That examination had not exactly gone as smoothly as he would have liked.

 

“Your witness, Mr Simpson,” the Judge now said.  So far they had not heard a great deal of evidence pointing any blame towards the defendant’s involvement in this matter at all.  They had a lot of medical evidence of the injuries and so forth, but no solid concrete evidence to tie Danny Griffiths to being responsible for any of them.

 

Simpson now rose from his table and made his way over towards the witness box.  He had quite a few questions to ask the lawman, some of them more invasive than others. He wanted to be right there to gauge the Sheriff’s reaction to them.  To see him squirm, so to speak, when the spot light was focused on him.

 

“Sheriff Coffee, before the incident at the second-hand shop, did you know my client at all?”

 

“No, not at all.  Until I saw him with Mr Perkins, I have never seen him before in my life.  I had not even seen him in Virginia City at the saloons or anywhere else.”

 

“Do you believe yourself to be a vigilant lawman, Sheriff?  By that I mean:  do you make it your business to keep tabs on the comings and goings of various people to the town?”

 

“Yes, I do.  When the stage comes into town and leaves again, I try to get as much information as possible as to the newcomers and the leavers to Virginia City.  Sometimes I don’t even have to ask.  Most of the people in this town know my routine and often give me the information before I have to ask for it.”

 

“So on the morning that you arrested my client, what made you single him out in particular about being a stranger in Virginia City?”

 

“Well, to be perfectly honest, nothing at first.  I didn’t even notice him until I was walking past Mr Perkins’s store on my daily walk.  I happened to hear voices inside and just thought I’d say howdy to whoever was inside.”

 

“You mean you decided to play nosy.”

 

“Nosy no; alert to the goings-on in my town, yes-” Roy answered- getting a little annoyed at the implied accusations that seemed to be being hurled in his direction by the defence lawyer.

 

 

 

“What did you see or hear when you walked into the second-hand store?”

 

“I heard your client over there talking to Mr Perkins about purchasing some saddlebags that he had in his possession.”

 

“Sounds like a harmless enough business transaction taking place, Sheriff.  Why did you decided to intervene?”

 

“I only intervened when the conversation turned a little nasty.  Mr Perkins started asking questions about the ownership of the saddlebags.  Griffiths over there got a little bit hot under the collar about the whole thing and started to raise his voice at Perkins.  I introduced myself and told Griffiths to calm down a little bit.”

 

“That is when your client seemed to get even more agitated.  He demanded Perkins buy the saddlebags no matter who owned them and grabbed the front of the store-keeper’s shirt and threatened to assault him.  That’s when I took a hold of your client and told him that he was under arrest for the attempted assault and battery of Mr Perkins.”

 

“Sounds like you have worked out an airtight alibi for your actions, doesn’t it, Sheriff?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean” Roy now asked but his facial expression gave him away, just a little.

 

“Oh, come now, Sheriff.  You didn’t arrest my client because he tried to threaten the store-keeper, did you? And please remember that you are under oath.”

 

Roy looked nervous all of a sudden, but decided that he didn’t see any point in not telling the court the whole story.  Joe was now home safely so it should be alright to reveal the real reason behind why he had arrested Griffiths.

 

“The attack on Mr Perkins wasn’t the sole reason for arresting Danny Griffiths,” Roy answered.  He could hear a few mumbled comments from the rear of the courtroom at this admission.

 

Simpson grinned like a Cheshire cat with this little piece of information.  He decided to probe into the real reason even more while the coals where still hot, so to speak.

 

 

 

 

“What was the other reason, Sheriff?”

 

“The other reason I arrested Danny Griffiths was that when I got a look at the saddlebags he was trying to sell, I recognized who those saddlebags belonged to.”

 

“Who did they belong to, Sheriff?”

 

“Little Joe Cartwright”.

 

“Even so, why did you assume that my client had anything to do with Mr Cartwrights abduction and disappearance?”

 

“Well at that stage, Joe Cartwright was still missing.  The family had had threats of harming the boy if they involved the law.  We still didn’t have any leads as to who took him or where they were keeping him.  They had received a ransom note by that stage, but no clues as to where the boy was being kept against his will.  We needed some answers in order to try and find him before he got hurt.”

 

“How did you know that those particular saddlebags belonged to the missing boy, Sheriff?” 

 

“Well, the thing that made me look the hardest when I first found them was the fact that there were initials carved into the leather on each of them.  Also, I had seen Ben Cartwright give him saddlebags that looked just like those ones.  The initials were J.F.C. so I acted on a hunch that Mr Griffiths there might know more about the boy’s whereabouts.”

 

“The initials, you say, were J.F.C., Sheriff?  But those initials could have belonged to quite a few people, couldn’t they?” “There could be other people out there with those very same initials?”

 

“I suppose so,” Roy said truthfully  “But I don’t remember anybody else in town with those initials lately.  They just looked so distinctive to me at the time.”

 

“So you agree with me when I suggest that although you thought the saddlebags belonged to Joe Cartwright, it is possible that they belonged to someone totally different altogether?”

 

“Yes, I would have to agree, reluctantly.  But I suppose the possibility is there.”

 

 

 

“And isn’t it also possible then, that because somebody else could have owned the saddlebags that day, that it was also the case that Mr Griffiths came into possession of those very saddlebags by legitimate means.  That is, he was the rightful owner of them and had every right to try and sell them to Mr Perkins in the second-hand store if he so wanted to?”

 

“I guess that is also possible, but I doubt it.”

 

“I am not after your personal opinion, Sheriff, just a yes or no would suffice!”

 

“Yes,” Roy answered sternly but made sure that the lawyer saw the look of displeasure on his face.

 

“What were your intentions with my client after you wrongfully arrested him and took him back to your jailhouse?” the lawyer now asked, knowing that the Sheriff was getting a little annoyed at the cynicism in his line of questioning.

 

“My intentions were solely to see if Griffiths did know anything about Joe’s disappearance.  I wanted to be sure that he might know where the boy was being held.  If Joe had had the saddlebags with him when he was taken, I logically assumed that Griffiths might have been involved with his abduction.  Where would he get the saddlebags otherwise?”

 

“You seemed to have made a lot of haphazard guesses and hunches during this whole investigation, haven’t you, Sheriff?” Simpson asked, laying it on thickly.

 

“No, I just looked at the clues and information I had before me and made short concise decisions as to how to approach finding Joe Cartwright alive and unharmed for his family.  At no time did I do anything that was illegal or underhanded.  Your client was arrested lawfully for the attempted assault on Mr Perkins.  Mr Perkins chose not to press charges and Danny Griffiths was released almost as soon as that happened.”

 

“Were you with Griffiths the whole time he was in the jailhouse, Sheriff, up until the time he was released?”

 

“No.  After I had attended to the paperwork for the jailhouse, I left my deputy in charge of the prisoner and continued my daily routine.”

 

“And where did you go after that, Sheriff?” Simpson asked, already guessing at the destination in mind at the time.

 

“I rode out to the Ponderosa ranch,” Roy answered truthfully.

 

“Why did you ride out there?” the lawyer started to ask.  “No, wait, let me put it to you this way:  Your intentions for going out to the Cartwrights’ ranch was to tell them that you had somebody in custody you suspected of having something to do with their missing family member, is that right, Sheriff?”

 

“Yes.  I went out there to tell Ben that I had arrested somebody that I had found with Joe’s saddlebags.  I told him that once Griffiths was released from the jailhouse, I intended to follow him to see if he could lead me to Little Joe.”

 

“What was Ben Cartwrights response to this plan?”

 

“To tell you the truth, at first both Ben and Hoss Cartwright were about to tear me limb from limb when I suggested letting Griffiths go.  They wanted to go over there and beat the stuffing out of him to get him to tell them where Little Joe was.  I told them that I thought he wouldn’t tell them anyway, so I suggested that we follow him without him knowing.”

 

“So you decided to play a little game of deception, isn’t that right, Sheriff?”

 

“If that’s what you want to call it.  I just wanted to see Joe Cartwright returned to his family, safe and well.”

 

“What did you do after you let him go from the jailhouse, Sheriff?”

 

“I waited for the search party to arrive, and then we give Griffiths a few hours head start before we started following his trail.”

 

“Who was in that search party, Sheriff Coffee?”

 

“Ben Cartwright, of course, and his two sons Adam and Hoss, plus me.”

 

“How long do you estimate that you and the search party followed Griffiths up towards Pine Valley?”

 

“I guess we followed for a couple of hours, but then Adam Cartwright and I split up from Ben and Hoss.  They took a different trail while we continued on after Griffiths.”

 

“Why did the four of you split into pairs?”

 

 

 

“Because the tracks showed signs of Griffiths slowing down some and we thought that maybe he was getting wise to the idea that he was being followed.  We wanted to cut off his escape route in case he tried to make a run for it.  So, Ben and Hoss took a rougher trail that would make sure Griffiths couldn’t double back to town on us without us knowing.  As it was, Adam Cartwright and I waited another spell to give Griffiths a little more distance in front of us.”

 

“I won’t be much longer, Sheriff.  One more question, though,” said  Simpson, now indicating that he was almost finished the cross-examination.

 

“When you got to this abandoned shack that has been spoken of here today, was there ever any indication that Joseph Cartwright had been there at any time?  Were there any signs that if he was there that it had been against his will?”

 

“No, there wasn’t anything at all to indicate that Little Joe had been there recently.  There were two rooms to the shack.  It was a place that was probably used by trappers a long time ago during the trapping season.  There was a living room with a dirt floor and then a small, pokey little room off to one side.”

 

“Just outside the shack there was evidence to suggest that a fire had been there in the past few days.  Maybe used for cooking food or heating coffee or such.   In the small room there were some pieces of timber that had been broken off the bottom of the far wall.    In the main living room there was only a couple of chairs, and even one of those had broken legs.”

 

Simpson read back over his notes one more time to make sure that he hadn’t forgotten anything. 

 

“Thank you, Your Honour, I have no further questions for this witness.”

 

“Sheriff Coffee, you are free to resume your normal duties of guarding the prisoner,” Judge Collins now said, as he dismissed Roy from the witness stand.

 

“Your Honour, if I may have a few minutes before calling my next witness,” Fred Harding now said to the Judge.

 

The Judge nodded his head in acknowledgement and said that the prosecutor could have as long as was necessary.

 

 

 

Fred now walked over towards his next witness, who was still sitting between his father Ben and brother Adam.   It wasn’t until the prosecutor was standing right in front of him that Joe even looked up to the man.  Fred frowned a little as he saw the nervous and apprehension etched in Joe’s facial features.  He looked a little pale but not overly so.  He motioned for Doc Martin to approach them for a minute.

 

“How does he look to you, Doc?”

 

Doc Martin bent down in front of Little Joe and tried to be as gentle as he could but still show a little air of professionalism whilst being in the courtroom.  “How are you feeling Joe?” he asked simply.

 

Joe looked at the doctor but took a few seconds to answer the question. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered and then let his gaze fall back towards the floor boards once more.  Ben didn’t hesitate to put a reassuring arm around his slim shoulders, despite the fact that they were in public and in a court of law.  All Ben knew was that Joe needed his reassurance and guidance during this difficult time and he was only too happy to provide it no matter where they were.

 

Fred now turned back towards the Judge.  “Your Honour, looking at the time it is now getting on towards the luncheon break.  I wonder if I might indulge the court’s lenience and be granted an adjournment to enable my next witness to prepare his case.  Mr Joseph Cartwright is the only witness left here today, but his testimony is going to take some time, I would think.  Rather than have him start giving his evidence and interrupt him halfway through…………”  He left the sentence unfinished, hoping the Judge got the general idea of his request.

 

Judge Collins was alert, however, and had seen the family doctor called over to take a look at the pale figure sitting in the front row.  The young man really did look as though he needed some fresh air before giving his evidence.  The Judge made a mental note to make the experience as easy as possible on the young man, especially seeing as how he was still in pain from the injuries he had received.

 

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Mr Harding,” Judge Collins now answered aloud for everybody to hear.  “This court will reconvene at 2.00 pm.  Court is now adjourned,” he said and struck his gavel on the desk to emphasis his decision.

 

Joe couldn’t help but sigh in relief at the Judge’s words.  He now slumped back against the chair and allowed his body to relax a little. His leg had begun aching somewhat badly halfway through Doc Martin’s testimony, but he didn’t want to cause his family any unnecessary worry.  Hopefully by the time they returned after lunch, the leg wouldn’t be aching so much.  And maybe by then the voices in his head would stop talking to him.

 

***********************************************************

 

Ben waited together with Doc Martin, Fred Harding and his family for everyone else to leave the courtroom before they worried about going anywhere.

 

There were a few brief discussions as to where to eat.  The final decision rested on the International Hotel where they were staying.  They all wanted to avoid a few of the other establishments in Virginia City in case they ran into the Judge proceeding over the trial.  It wasn’t against any law or anything, but it was considered protocol not to be seen together whilst such events were taking place.  After the trial was over, it wouldn’t matter if they were seen in public together too much.

 

“Ready to go and get something to eat, son?” Ben now asked Joe.  Joe had sat through all of the discussions about lunch without saying a word.  He had also remained silent as the others discussed the morning’s events and what was to come in the after when they returned.

 

“Yeah,” Joe said in an uninterested tone.  He even let his father help him fumble with his crutches and everybody in the room knew this was a particularly worry sign in the young man’s demeanour.  Joe looked as if he was willing to go along with anything someone else said just so he didn’t have to make a decision on his own.  If he didn’t say anything or challenge the decisions being made for him, then he didn’t have to face the battles within him.

 

They just hoped that some food would help perk up Joe’s mood before he was required to give evidence later on.  If he was in a similar frame of mind and was prepared to agree with everything that the defence lawyer suggested to him, their case wasn’t looking very promising.

 

Joe gnashed his teeth together as he felt a shooting pain up his leg when his foot touched the wooden floor.  He had stumbled slightly and felt three or four hands suddenly rush out to prevent him from falling.  He gave a wan smile in return for their concern but inside he just wanted to crawl into a hole where nobody could find him and he could be left alone in his pity.

 

 

 

Once Joe and his family reached the hotel, he did make it his business to choose the table at which they were to have lunch.  He made sure that the table was positioned away in one of the back corners of the room.  He sat in the corner of this table with his back to the wall.   There was a window he could see out of if he turned his head to the side. 

 

Nobody else said anything about the choice of table, but Ben made sure that he himself and his other two sons sat either side of Joe.  They knew that Joe was feeling very vulnerable and afraid at the moment.  Ben was determined to make sure that Joe knew he could count on the support of his family. 

 

It didn’t seem to matter how much he tried to emphasis that, at the moment, the more they moved in closer to protect him, the more he pulled away and put up the defence walls to drive between them.  He wanted to shut the whole world out and ignore the pain and memories, hoping they would go away. 

 

Doc Martin now passed menus out around the table and they started to look at the various meals available.  They would have to choose relatively simple meals due to the time restraints they were being held to.

 

Ben pretended to keep reading his own, but he also stole glances towards his youngest son, trying to gauge what he was going to choose from the menu.  Whatever it was to be, he hoped that it would be enough to give the boy some much needed nourishment to make it through the rest of the afternoon.  If the morning was anything to go by, he knew that Joe was going to need a substantial amount of energy and courage to endure those proceedings.  Probably even more than just food would provide.

 

“I’ll think I will have me a nice big juicy steak, Pa,” Hoss said, trying to interject a little lightheartedness into the room. The atmosphere was very tense at the moment.

 

“Just one, Hoss?” Adam said in mock surprise.  “You mean you don’t want the rest of the cow?”

 

“Naw, Adam, I am just a little bit peckish.  All that legal talk in there has plum taken my appetite away.  Maybe you and  the cook there could put the rest in a paper bag for me to take home, though,” Hoss replied jokingly.  Everyone at the table was suddenly laughing at the remarks between the two brothers.

 

 

 

 

Ben felt a little relief as he looked over and could see the beginnings of a grin tugging at the corners of Joe’s mouth.  He wasn’t exactly laughing, he was almost looking like he was trying to hold it in or hide the laughter altogether.  But it was a start, Ben reminded himself.  Probably the first real grin they had seen in the last few days, anyway.

 

“I think I will just have a ham sandwich with tomato, Pa,” Joe now said before he was formally asked.

 

“Are you sure that’s all you want, son?” Ben enquired.

 

“Yes, Pa.  My stomach is already twisting and churning inside too much without being too full.  I guess I am just too nervous about the trial to eat, that’s all,” Joe admitted.

 

“You’ll do fine this afternoon, Joe,” Fred said intervening into the conversation.

 

The speech was interrupted by the waitress coming to the table and asking for everyone’s order.  Ben promptly ordered for Joseph first and then for himself and then they proceeded around the table in a clockwise direction.

 

Once the waitress had taken the orders, everyone around the table except for Joe started to include themselves in idle chatter whilst they waited for their lunch orders to arrive.

 

Joe’s gaze wandered towards the window and what was going on outside as he became lost in his own thoughts about the day.   He hadn’t even been taking any notice of the people and the goings outside.  His mind was telling him that he was looking towards the main street of Virginia City.  He could see people walking by the hotel and on the opposite side of the street.  His attention wasn’t enough to recognize the faces as they walked by.

 

Briefly, Joe took his gaze away from the street outside to survey the table he was sitting out.  He looked back, but could see his father talking with Fred Harding and Doc Martin.  Adam and Hoss seemed to be talking amongst themselves.  He again looked back out the window, but this time things seemed a little altered.

 

 

 

 

 

Months later, when he was asked about it , Joe told people that it was like watching a scene in slow motion.  He could see things happening on the street, people walking by, horses being ridden down the street.  But the more he looked the stranger the scene became.  Then, all at once, there was nobody walking down the street nor riding horses.  It was as if the street had suddenly been abandoned.

 

Joe looked across to the other side of the road and found his brain warning him of eminent danger.  His eyes scanned the area and saw a large dark figure standing by the lamp pole outside the barber shop.

 

Joe could scarcely hold back the scream caught in his throat when he finally did recognize the face staring back at him.  The face was staring back at him.  It was as if the eyes were burning into his very soul.  It was Butch Thomas looking back at him.  Somehow Joe knew that Thomas had seen him looking out the window. 

 

Joe quickly turned his face away from the window and looked back at the others seated at the table.  His face had now lost all its pallor and he was trembling slightly with the fear that was coursing through his body.  He couldn’t help it.  The more he thought about Butch Thomas, the more afraid he became.

 

Ben had been talking idly with Fred when he saw his son’s face.  Joe was deathly pale all of a sudden and looked as though he might faint on the spot.  Ben reached for Joe’s hand with one of his own and felt the small tremors that were present.

 

“Joseph, are you alright?” Ben asked and moved his chair out slightly so he could move closer to Joe.  He didn’t like the way the boy was looking one bit.  He was sweating profusely and seemed to be very scared all of a sudden.   His eyes were full of fright and kept darting back between the people at the table and the window beside them.

 

Ben took a brief second to look out the window, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary that might have Joe to react so badly.  Joe tried to answer his father, but the fear that was multiplying by the minute prevented the words from coming.

 

Hoss also saw the naked fear on his brother’s face and got off his chair to kneel in front of his distressed brother.  All of a sudden, Joe could feel the eyes of everybody at the table on him and probably a few from other nearby tables.  All the scrutiny only seemed to escalate the problem.

 

“Tell Hoss what’s got you so scared, boy,” Hoss said, as he spoke to his brother in a soft and caring voice.  “You got us all plum worried about you, Joe.”

 

“Do you need to go outside and get some fresh air Joe?” Fred Harding now asked, unaware of what Joe had seen but a few minutes ago.

 

“NO!” Joe shouted back hurriedly without even realising he might have been giving away the real reason for his fear.  He couldn’t let them know about Thomas being outside, no matter how scared he was.  He knew that Thomas was there to ensure that he kept his word about not revealing his identity or involvement in his abduction.

 

“Calm down, Joe,” Adam said, now voicing his own concern for his brother’s sudden display of emotion. “You don’t have to go outside if you don’t want to.  We just want to make sure you are alright.”

 

“I’m sorry, Pa.  I was just thinking too hard that’s all about what happened.  I think I must have been dreaming again about what happened,” Joe said, thinking that his excuse would at least pass for partly true.

 

“I am sorry I interrupted your conversation,” Joe now said in remorse.  “I will be fine now.”

 

Ben gave his son a good looking over with his eyes and doubted this to be true, but didn’t voice his concerns for fear of distressing Joe further.  “As long as you say so,” he commented.

 

Before anybody else could speak, there was a clunking of china plates on the table as the waitress delivered the luncheon meals.   Joe took one look at the ham sandwich placed before him and knew that his stomach wouldn’t be in the mood for food.

 

“Can I have a drink of water, please, Pa?” Joe asked, trying to divert his father’s attention away from him and to draw attention away from the fact that he didn’t feel like eating.  His throat felt so dry from his fear that it wasn’t funny.  He was grateful for the cool refreshing liquid as it touched the sides of his throat on the way down.  It was both soothing and thirst-quenching at the same time.

 

The discussion at the table soon dissipated as everyone tucked into the food before them.  On two occasions, when he felt the stares from his father and brothers, Joe picked up one of the sandwiches and nibbled at one of the corners to show them that he was at least trying to eat his lunch.

 

“Gentlemen, I think it is almost time to start heading back to the courtroom,” Fred Harding announced as he looked at his pocket watch and noted it to be ten minutes to two o’clock.

 

Ben and Doc Martin sighed in defeat as they looked down at Joe’s plate and saw his meal almost untouched. 

 

Joe tried to hide his apprehension about leaving the safety and security of the International Hotel.  On the way back to the courtroom, his eyes darted back and forth along the street of Virginia City looking for signs of Thomas lurking in the shadows.  He was scaring himself silly, but couldn’t help but feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise as though Thomas was standing right in front of him.  

 

He inwardly sighed in relief when he reached the courtroom without seeing Thomas again.  His sense of alert was at its highest and his reactions were based mainly on pure adrenaline as they had been when he was escaping from the shack.

 

Before too long the court Bailiff came back into the courtroom and announced the recommencement of the proceedings, and Judge Collins took his usual place at the bench.

 

“Will you please call your next witness, Mr Harding” the Judge now instructed the prosecutor.

 

“Your Honour, if it pleases the court, I call Joseph Francis Cartwright to the stand”

 

Joe got slowly up from his seat and walked stiffly, but as calmly as possible to the witness stand. Inside, his stomach was all tied in knots, and he could barely keep his composure. His crutches seemed to be loud as he made his way over, but it was probably more to the fact that nobody else in the courtroom spoke a word.  They all had their eyes firmly fixated on the young, pale-looking young man heading towards the front of the court room.  Joe really hoped this was over real soon.

 

Joe remained standing for a moment while the court Bailiff addressed him. “Do you swear to tell the whole truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?”

 

‘Truth’.  That was the word that kept echoing in Joe’s mind over and over again.  Like he had told his father only a day earlier, he didn’t know what the truth was anymore and had even less of an inclination to face it.

 

“I do,” he said in a soft voice and sat down on the hard wooden seat.  It took quite a few attempts to manage to manoeuvre his body and the crutches in such a small, confined space.  Finally he placed his crutches on the other side of the witness box.  They were a little further away than he would have liked, but at least this way he could stretch his aching leg out just a little to ease the constant throbbing that existed.

 

Judge Collins could see the nervousness and apprehension in this next young witness.  He put his hand up towards Fred Harding so that he could have a private chat with Joe before the questions began.

 

“Joe, if you think you need a break at any time or are hurting too much from your injuries, just let me know and I will have a recess until you are able to go on.”

 

Joe nodded his head, grateful for the Judge’s compassion, but he really didn’t want to delay this any longer.  He just wanted to answer the questions thrown at him and then go home and forget any of this ever happened.

 

The Judge now looked back towards the lawyers and the public gallery and gave a slight nod of his head, indicating that the prosecution could proceed.

 

At the back of the courtroom, there was a set of windows.  They were very dusty, both inside and outside, so nobody really took any notice of them.  When Joe had walked towards the witness box, he was unable to see the shadowy figure of Butch Thomas walk down the alley way and peer through one corner of one of the windows. 

 

Although Thomas couldn’t hear what Joe was about to say very well, he could tell what was happening by the boy’s body language and gestures.  He made sure that his presence remained undetected by anyone in the courtroom.

 

“Joe, I will get to the main part of your evidence in a moment, but firstly, due to the questions that were asked just before the luncheon break, I will start with what you remember about those saddlebags,” Fred Harding said, as he began his examination of Little Joe.

 

“When was the last time…….. no, wait a moment.  Do you own a set of saddlebags?”

 

 

 

 

“Yes,” Joe answered.

 

“Is there any distinguishing characteristics on those saddlebags?”

 

“My Pa gave them to me for my fifteenth birthday. They have my initials carved into one corner of them.”

 

“And what are those initials, Joe?”

 

“J.F.C.”

 

“Now that we have established that you have had possession of a set of saddlebags, resembling the ones that the Sheriff confiscated from Mr Griffiths when he was arrested.   Do you use those saddlebags all the time?”

 

“Yes, whenever I saddle my horse Cochise, they are always there.”

 

“And up until today, Joe, when was the last time you saw those saddlebags?”

 

Joe looked cautiously at his father before answering the question.  His father gave him a reassuring smile and the look of encouragement to help him go on.  “The last time I saw those saddlebags was on my way to school that day.”

 

“And what day are you talking about, Joe?” Fred asked, knowing that Joe was trying to avoid saying it all at once.

 

“The day that I was taken away from my family,” Joe said in a small voice.  His gaze immediately went to the floor in front of him, and he tried to slow down his breathing and regain his composure.

 

“Did you see what happened to those saddlebags when you were abducted, Joe?”

 

“No.”

 

“Have you seen those saddlebags since being returned to your family?”

 

“No.”

 

“Joe, we can come back to more of those questions later.  Now, let’s start with what you remember about that day, before you left for school.”

 

“You mean when I was still at home?” Joe asked, not really being sure about why the prosecutor would be asking about things that happened before he was taken.

 

“Yes, Joe.  Lead us into what happened.  Take your time and stop when you need to but try to be as specific as you can and leave nothing out.”

 

“Well…………..” Joe said and paused, looking at Fred with a confused look.  He looked towards his brothers and father for their help. 

 

Fred Harding could see that Joe was already reluctant to give his story willingly on his own. 

 

“I know this is difficult for you, Joe.  So, I will help you as much as I can,  with Your Honour’s permission, of course” Fred added, looking towards Judge Collins for his approval.  The Judge just nodded his head in agreement.

 

“What time did you wake up that morning, do you remember?”

 

“About normal time.  I can’t be sure, probably about 6.00,am.  We kinda get up early at our house.  Pa makes sure that all of our morning chores are done before breakfast time,” Joe said innocently. Both Adam and Ben had to hide their smirks to this answer.  At least the boy was being honest about his home life.

 

“Did you eat any breakfast that morning?”

 

“Hop Sing made scrambled eggs, I think, but I was already running late for school and so I only had a few mouthfuls.”

 

“So, then you left the house, and what happened next?”

 

“I went to the barn to saddle my horse Cochise.  Adam came after me and handed me my books that I had forgotten.”

 

“So you rode alone to school that day, Joe?”

 

“Yeah, Pa has been letting me ride to school on my own since I was about thirteen or so.”

 

“You started to ride to school, and then what happened?”

 

“Well, about halfway there I came to a bend in the road.  Somebody was lying in the middle of the road. I got off my horse and started to walk towards him.”

 

“Could you see this person’s face from your horse, Joe?”

 

“No, he was lying down and turned over as if he was hurt, so I couldn’t see anything but the back of his shirt.”

 

Ben and Adam both found it very difficult to hear the explicit details about how these men had lured a very innocent and naïve teenager in the path of danger.  Joe was always the one to stop and ask if somebody needed help; it was just in his nature. 

 

“What happened after you walked towards him?”

 

“I put my hand on his shoulder, ready to turn him over to see if he was alright,” Joe’s voice was getting softer with every question and answer.

 

“Did you say anything to him, Joe? I am sorry, but you will have to try and keep your voice up a little for everyone to hear.”

 

“No.  He didn’t give me a chance.  As soon as I touched his shoulder he turned over on his own and that’s when I knew he was faking being hurt.”

 

“How did you know that he wasn’t really hurt, Joe?”

 

Joe looked at this father again, knowing that his family had yet to hear any of these details.  He could see Hoss’s normally placid, calm-looking blue eyes start to swirl as the emotions about what these men had done to his little brother began to consume him from within.

 

“I knew he was lying because he had a gun pointed at me,” Joe said hurriedly, thankful to finally get the words out.  There were a few muffled voices and whispers amongst the public gallery after this comment.

 

Adam’s face had turned into a mask as he, too, tried to hide the turmoil of emotions that were threatening to overtake him.  He was trying to think of all the things he could do to these men if he ever got his hands on them.

 

Ben’s gaze never diverted from Joe.  Inside, he was as angry and full of guilt as his two sons were, but he knew that Joe was looking to him to provide the reassurance and the strength to carry on.  He needed to remain strong for his son.

 

 

 

 

“Did you think you could describe this person for the court, Joe?”

 

“No, I don’t think so.  Everything after that happened so quickly.  I don’t remember very much at all after that.”

 

“Do you know the defendant in his matter, Joe?”

 

“No” Joe said with firmness.  He knew that he could safely say that he wasn’t friends or even distance acquaintances with Danny Griffiths.

 

“I want you to take as much time as you need to answer this next question, Joe.  Think very carefully.  Have you ever seen the man sitting in the dock before?”

 

Now Joe really did have a large lump caught in his throat.  He knew that he didn’t want to reveal that he knew Griffiths was involved in his kidnapping.  Thomas had told him what would happen if he revealed their identities to anybody.

 

Joe found himself nervously playing with his hands.  He was clenching them into fists so tight that the knuckles were turning white.  He did think very hard about how he was going to answer the question without outright lying.

 

“Ummmm………. I really can’t be sure of that.  I got hit on the head a couple of times after that and some things about that day are still a little bit fuzzy.”

 

Joe looked at the prosecutor to see if could see through the half-lie at all.  The walls, all of a sudden, seemed to be closing in around Joe.  His fear and nervousness were more than beginning to get the better of him.  He was beginning to feel claustrophobic. 

 

He was the only one who couldn’t see his face getting awfully pale.  On the contrary, Joe couldn’t feel anything else but the blood beginning to rush to his head.

 

Judge Collins noted the sudden change in the pallor of the young man and decided to intervene “Are you alright, young man?” he asked gently.

 

Ben was about two steps away from making a path directly to Joe in the witness box.  He could see his son struggling to get himself under control.   Even though the questions hadn’t been entirely harrowing, just the fact that Joe was being forced to remember such a terrible ordeal was obviously becoming too much for his son all at once.

 

“Could I go to the outhouse, please?” Joe asked in a soft voice.  Although his family was ready to support him, Joe felt as though he couldn’t deal with anybody at the moment, least of all his family.  He wanted to be alone for a few minutes and try and deal with the guilt and shame that were becoming overwhelming within him.

 

“Sure, son.  Do you want one of your family to go with you?” the Judge replied noting Joe’s slight immobility with the crutches.

 

“No, I be just fine on my own if that’s alright with you.  I won’t be long,” Joe said, as he started to fumble for his crutches.  He looked briefly over at his brothers, who were almost on their feet, ready to help him across the short distance to the side exit to the courtroom.  He shook his head slightly, indicating to them that he didn’t need their help just yet either.

 

All eyes seemed to be on Joe as he made his way slowly across the wooden floor.  It took all of their willpower for Ben and his boys not to rush over to him and help like they wanted to.  They all respected the fact that Joe had said he could manage on his own.  It didn’t make it any easier, though, to watch his painful and stiff progress to the side door.

 

Joe had been careful about where to place his crutches at the doorway.  There was a large step from the floor of  the courtroom to the dirt ground.  He made sure that he had a solid foot hold before proceeding any further.  His concentration was largely on his footing and his crutches, so he didn’t see Butch Thomas’s figure come closer to him from the back of the building.

 

Butch Thomas made sure that the kid was all the way out the door and away from prying eyes before he made a grab for the teenager.   The outhouse was about twenty feet to the right side of the courtroom.  The people inside wouldn’t be able to see him again until he was almost back inside the doorway again.

 

Once Joe had almost made it to the outhouse door, Thomas made his move ……….. ……………………

 

Butch Thomas made sure that when he grabbed the boy the kid wasn’t able to scream for help or signal to anyone about what was going on.  He put his hand over Joe’s mouth tightly, cutting off the scream that was caught in his throat. 

 

 

 

 

 

Joe felt a hand on his shoulder momentarily and then felt the rough calloused hand go around his mouth, keeping him silent.  His assailant was stronger, despite his constant struggles to get away.  The crutches he had been holding onto had fallen away to the side as he used his hands and arms to try and free the arms encircling his chest and

upper body.

 

It was only after he had subdued his victim sufficiently and dragged him into a darkened corner of the alley that the attacker turned the kid’s body around to allow him to see who he was.    Butch Thomas couldn’t suppress the grin on his face as he saw the look of recognition on Joe’s face.

 

Joe could feel his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he thought it would burst.  His eyes were wide with fright, and his face paled considerably as he found himself looking into the cold, calculating face of his worst fear:   Butch Thomas.

 

Joe tried to scream through the hand over his mouth, but all that came out was muffled squeak.  Thomas knew that he couldn’t do anything physical to the kid out here.  He had  to make sure that the kid wasn’t missing long enough for anybody to start worrying about him and come out looking for him.

 

Instead of the harsh slap that Thomas wanted to deliver to Joe’s frightened, pale face, he proceeded to shake the kid roughly and issue a fresh warning:

 

“Hello again, my young friend.   Didn’t expect to see me here today, did you?  Oh, but I know you already saw me earlier, didn’t you, outside the hotel?   Didn’t think I had gone away completely, did you, kid, after my last visit?  Like I told you before, I aim to make sure that you don’t open that mouth of yours and tell the law what really happened at that shack.  I want to make sure that you don’t say anything about me or young Griffiths in there being involved.   If you tell them about him, then he just might squeal on me, and that ain’t good for your, health kid.”

 

“Remember, I’ll be watching you,” Thomas added finally.  He quickly released his grip from around Joe’s chest and removed the hand over the kid’s mouth and disappeared down the opposite end of the alleyway before his young victim even realised that Thomas was gone.

 

Joe had his eyes closed whilst his body was being shaken by Thomas.   It was only after he had felt the iron-like grip around his arms and chest release that he could take a breath again.  It was now that he heard the sound of running footsteps. 

 

Joe nervously opened his eyes and looked around, not knowing what to expect.  He couldn’t believe it when the alleyway was completely empty.   The sound of his shallow breaths seemed to echo off the walls of the nearby buildings and then circle back at him, enhancing the fact that he was all alone.

 

He didn’t know what he should do for a minute.  He was scared that this was all some sort of evil game from Thomas.   That he was somewhere nearby, waiting for Joe to make the next move before he pounced on him again.  Joe stood there he was, trying to regain his composure before re-entering the courtroom. 

 

Joe had no idea if the people inside the courtroom had heard the skirmish outside between him and Thomas.  He looked around the alleyway and soon spotted his fallen crutches, still lying in the dirt nearby.   His legs were threatening to betray him, and he didn’t even know if he could make it the short distance to them without collapsing.

 

After a few shaky seconds he managed to walk gingerly over to his crutches and retrieve them.  He had all but forgotten about his trip to the outhouse.  His next challenge seemed to be making it back to the side entrance to the courtroom. All of  the blood seemed to be pooling in his feet, making them feel extremely heavy to move and the rest of his body feel very wobbly and dizzy.

 

Inside the courtroom, Ben was starting to become a little anxious about the time Joe had been gone.  In the scheme of things, it had only been a few minutes, but he hadn’t like the paleness in Joe’s face before the break in proceedings had been granted.  There was something in the way that Joe had been answering the questions that the prosecutor asked.  It was almost as if Joe was trying to avoid them or tell an untruth, but Ben couldn’t work out why his son would do such a thing.

 

Adam was the first to see Joe’s figure lurch into view near the doorway.  At first, for a brief second his heart had begun beating again after worry he had caused himself about how long Joe was taking.  He, too, had seen the concerning signs in his younger brother as his father had.  He didn’t necessarily draw the same conclusions, but was worried for Joe’s safety, nonetheless.

 

Adam lightly tapped Hoss on the shoulder as he spotted his brother, but the gesture almost hung in mid-air as all three Cartwrights now watched Joe intently as he walked through the doorway awkwardly with his crutches to aid him.  Something wasn’t right.   

 

The look on Joe’s face told the on-lookers that the kid was downright scared.  Of what, they didn’t know.  He hadn’t seemed that scared in the witness box a few minutes ago.  Something was very wrong.

 

Joe swallowed hard as he first of all looked towards his family, seated in the front row of chairs.  He then slowly and deliberately turned his head towards Judge Collins.  He wanted to shout out what had just happened outside.  He wanted to run to his father and hide behind him, hoping his two brothers would run outside and catch Butch Thomas before he could get away.  For the time being, his voice seemed to abandon him, and he only heard a croaky gurgle when he opened his mouth.

 

Adam could see Joe struggling with his emotions and wanting to tell them something.  The fear on his face was so naked that he was truly worried for his brother’s ability to cope with the whole trial situation.    He focused on Joe’s lips, hoping to at least lip-read the words that Joe couldn’t get out.

 

“He’s back!” Adam thought his brother had mouthed silently.  He didn’t know who Joe was talking about.  He was hoping Joe could supply some more information about what was so terribly wrong.  He was about to take a step forward and talk to Joe on a more one-on-one basis when he saw his brother’s step falter.

 

All of a sudden, Joe’s energy, that had been fuelled by pure adrenaline, seemed to be waning and ebbing away very quickly from within him.  As the adrenalin left his body, his injured leg began to ache as though it was a warning of some kind.

 

Joe’s legs seemed to be made of jelly and he knew that it was only the crutches in his hands holding him totally erect.  That soon came to an end, though, as the crutches fell to the floor with a resounding crash.  His arms no longer had the strength to hold onto the wooden appendages.

 

The blood that seemed to be in his feet only a few seconds ago now coursed through his veins and rushed into his head.  His head began swimming and his mind began to spin together with the ceiling of the courtroom.   Without any further warning, he crumpled to the ground in a dead faint.  He didn’t hear the cry of anguish that came from his family, as they had seen what was going to happen but were unable to prevent it in time.

 

 

 

 

Immediately, Ben was at his son’s side, along with Adam and Hoss.  Doc Martin had quickly recovered from the shock enough to gather his medical bag before joining the hovering crowd over the unconscious and unmoving youth.  Judge Collings was also standing on his feet, leaning over the desk in front of him with a concerned expression

on his face.

 

“Mr Harding and Mr Simpson, I believe that now is the right time to adjourn these whole proceedings until 9.00 am tomorrow morning.  Hopefully by then we will be able to make a decision of what is to happen based on Mr Cartwrights physical health and the doctor’s diagnosis.  Sheriff, you may take the prisoner back to his cell in your

jailhouse.  Court is now adjourned,” the Judge said, knowing his speech fell mainly on deaf ears.  Everybody in the courtroom was rightly preoccupied with the health and condition of the young man lying in front of the Judge. 

 

The Judge now came out from his desk and offered what little, if any, assistance he could to the already growing crowd of bystanders.

 

“Joseph!”  Joseph, can you hear me?” Ben said, as he gently stroked his son’s pale face, beseeching him to respond to his touch and calling. 

 

“Do you think this was all too much, Doc?” Hoss asked Paul, as the doctor prepared to make a more thorough examination of his patient.

 

“Maybe, Hoss, but for now, let’s be more concerned about getting him back to the hotel and checking him out more thoroughly.  We will make him more comfortable and hope that an environment away from here may make him a little more relaxed,” Paul said.

 

“Adam, you and Hoss carry him, but gently.   I will clear the path.  Ben, you stay by his side in case he starts to wake up and becomes agitated before we get him to the room,” Paul now instructed.

 

The crowd in the courtroom respectfully stood aside without any hesitation as they watched the two brothers gather their smaller and obviously frailer sibling in their gentle but supporting grasp and carry him towards the International Hotel where his family had been staying.

 

Fred Harding gathered all of his paperwork and scurried behind the Cartwrights and the doctor as quickly as he could.  He was a little guilty about having to put his young witness through such a taxing ordeal.  He was also a little intrigued as Ben had been about why Joe was being so evasive with his testimony.  He knew his curiosities would in all likelihood go unanswered tonight at least.  

 

Upon a last-minute check of the courtroom, Fred saw that Joe’s crutches had been momentarily forgotten with all the chaos.  He picked them up and carried them back to the hotel along with the rest of his paperwork. 

 

Shocked staff of the hotel could only watch with stunned faces as the party came bursting into the hotel through the front doors, carrying the inert young man up the stairs and to their suite.  Fred Harding stayed behind to tell them about what they had seen and make arrangements for any necessities that the doctor might require like water, towels, fresh bed linen and anything else Paul or the Cartwrights asked for.   The staff were only too happy to carry out his wishes and they promised to have everything he asked for promptly ready within a few minutes at the suite door.

 

***********************************************************

 

Ben paced backwards and forwards beside the bed where his unconscious son lay.  Joe hadn’t moved a muscle since being brought to the hotel by his brothers, followed by Doc Martin, his anxious father and Fred Harding.

 

Ben wanted Paul to talk to him.  Tell him what was wrong with Joseph.  He knew the doctor was trying his best, but that didn’t do his nerves any good.  They were already shot to pieces.

 

Paul Martin could see his old friend pacing back and forth from worry.  He was concerned himself about Little Joe’s pale face and the lack of response he was getting.  He smiled briefly to himself.  If there was one thing that remained constant in this world, it was Ben Cartwrights worry about his sons and about his youngest in particular.  Paul knew it wouldn’t matter how old Little Joe got, Ben would still worry every time the young man was physically hurt or struggling with something mentally.

 

Paul admonished himself and he road of nostalgia and reminded himself that he had a young patient to care for right now.  He dug around in his little black bag and pulled out a small cylindrical tube containing dark mustard-coloured powder.

 

The doctor was careful enough with the powder to make sure that he didn’t remove the cap before it was close enough to the patient.   The tube was only small in size and the quantity of powder equally small, but Paul didn’t want any of the other people in the room being overcome by the powerful fumes that were about to exude from it. 

 

He held the tube expertly and at just the right distance underneath Little Joe’s nose to have the right effect.  He uncorked the cork stopper from the tube with his thumb and very slowly brought the tube back and forth underneath both nostrils.

 

Paul didn’t need to wait long to see the results.   Almost immediately Joe was pulled harshly from his unconscious state by the acrid smell of the smelling salts.  Once he had taken a second inhalation of the powder, he quickly diverted his head to avoid the smell that was invading his senses.  He almost felt sick to his stomach.

 

The tube was removed and the cork replaced at the neck.   Everyone in the room remained silent now as they waited for Joe to regain his bearings.  

 

Joe could almost feel the silence in the room.  He turned his head to the front again and came face to face with the snow-white hair of Doctor Martin.  The smile in return was warm and friendly enough, but Joe could also read the offer of pity and understanding that he didn’t need right at the moment.  He looked upwards and slightly to the left of Doc Martin and saw his father, who, too had a similar look on his face, though the worry was a little more evident on him than it had been on Paul.  Joe looked about the room and could see the same expressions on his brothers and Fred Harding.  Everybody wanted to tell him that everything was going to be alright again.   He felt like he was almost suffocating.

 

Joe turned his face away from them all and tried to hold in the emotions he was feeling.   As the light from the room shone on his face, Ben and the others saw a single tear slip down his cheek and soak into the pillow.

 

“I think I need to examine my patient alone for a moment,” Paul now suggested seeing Joe’s distress.  “I’ll talk to you in a few minutes when I have had a chance to check him over properly.”

 

Everyone in the room complied with the simple request.   They were all anxious to hear what Paul had to say about Joe and how he was coping.  They all wanted to ask the one question that kept plaguing their minds: What had scared him so much back at the courthouse?

 

Paul now smiled back at Joe once everyone had left and tried to drum up idle conversation to take Joe’s mind on whatever else was bothering him.

 

“Now, let’s see wrong with you, Little Joe,” Paul said innocently.

 

 

 

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Joe said through clenched teeth as he held onto his frustration about everybody treating him like he was a

five-year-old.  Why couldn’t people just come out and say things in plain terms?  Just because he fainted didn’t mean he was in the mood to be babied.

 

“Can you tell me why you fainted then, Joseph?” Paul now asked, playing along with Joe rather than trying to fight against him.

 

“I don’t know.  Just got uncomfortable answering all of those questions, I guess, that’s all, Doc,” Joe lied.   His mind went back to the alleyway and the moment Butch Thomas had grabbed him around the throat and hissed threats at him.  His body began to tremble again at the memory and he suddenly felt cold in the room.  He tried to hide his body’s tremors by pulling the quilt from the bed over him. 

 

Paul frowned a little at this exercise, particularly when he was trying to examine a reluctant patient.  It didn’t help any if the patient was being particularly difficult and preventing the doctor from checking him over.  He could see the frightened look return to Joe’s eyes and feel the small tremors running through his limbs as he gently tried to talk Joe into co-operating a little more.  Paul decided not to pressure the young man too much.  It was obvious that his being difficult wasn’t entirely his own fault.  

 

Paul finally declared to Joe that he was finished his examination.  Joe looked up dubiously at the doctor as he knew there hadn’t been much poking and probing done.  He didn’t say anything, though.  He wasn’t about to invite the doctor to conduct any more tests on him.  He just wanted to be left alone to sort out the shouting voices in his head.  He wanted to get a handle on what had happened today and work out what he was going to do tomorrow.

 

“I’ll probably see you tomorrow, Joe.  You get some rest now,” Paul said, as he walked out of Joe’s room through the adjoining door to Fred Harding’s suite where everybody else was waiting.

 

Joe nodded his head in acknowledgement, but knew that there was not chance of his mind letting him rest tonight or anytime in the near future.  His mind was just racing, as was his heart beat and blood pressure.  The fear within him was growing that much he was certain of.  If he couldn’t find a way to confront his fears, they would take over and make him hide away from the world and his family and friends forever.

 

Back in the other room, the four people waiting in Fred Harding’s suite now gathered around together, as Paul Martin came through the doorway and prepared to tell them about Joe’s diagnosis.

 

“How is he, Paul?” Ben asked before anything could be said.  He couldn’t wait any longer.  He wanted to know how his son was.

 

“Physically, he’s as good as can be expected.  He’s a little fatigued and his leg is still aching a little, but other than that and some lack of colour he is holding up physically well.  Mentally, on the other hand, that’s another issue altogether.  I couldn’t do much of an examination because Joe just refused to talk to me.  He grunted and gasped in pain a couple of times when I examined his leg which indicates he was still feeling some pain. But he refused to talk about what was scaring him so much or anything at all about what happened back at the courthouse,” Paul now explained.

 

“Did you ask him what happened, Doc?” Hoss now asked.

 

“Yes, Hoss, I did, but he said there was nothing wrong with him and that it was just the questions that got to him in the end.  Though I partly believe that to be true, I doubt that was the real reason behind his fainting spell.   He is in a very fragile state at the moment.  If we push too hard, he is going to withdraw into himself even more; if we treat him with

kid-gloves any more than we are at the moment, we are only going to end up with a very rebellious and angry teenager.”

 

“What do you suppose we do about tomorrow and the trial?” Fred Harding now asked.  He wasn’t willing to risk Joe’s physical or mental condition for the sake of convicting Griffiths, but he also needed to be prepared to give the Judge some background information in the morning in his application to have the matter adjourned to another date.

 

“I think its too early to say just yet.  Let’s let Joe get some rest overnight, and I will take a look at him tomorrow morning and see what his mental attitude is again.  At the moment his attitude is very sullen and moody.  I doubt whether you will get a straight answer from him at the moment were you to put him back in that witness box with his current state of mind.”

 

“Are there any instructions for us tonight, Paul, about what we should do for him?” Ben asked.

 

 

 

 

“No, Ben.  The best advice I can give you at the moment is just to be there for him.  He is feeling all alone and very vulnerable at the moment so I think we need to show him that he is loved,”  Paul replied.  “You know where I will be if you need me,” he added at the end and gathered his bag ready to depart back to his own office.

 

The four men now had talked for the next hour about some of the things that had come out in the trial from Joe today.   Adam and Hoss both had angered looks about them when they remembered how Joe had been lured  into thinking that somebody was hurt along the road on his way to school.   Both brothers knew that it was in Joe’s nature to stop and help someone else if he could.  They couldn’t fault him because they probably would have done the same thing.

 

Ben had wanted to go back into their own suite where Joe was resting as soon as Paul had left.  But a great deal of self-restraint was used when he realised that his son probably would like some time to himself.  If he was resting as the doctor suggested he do, Ben didn’t want to disturb that much needed rest even if it was to put a stop to his own fears and worries.

 

“I can’t say how sorry I am about Joe being put through all of this, Ben,” Fred now said to his long-time friend as the conversation between them all but dried up.

 

“Don’t be, Fred. These things that are happening are not your fault and can’t be helped.  I just wish I knew some way to get through to Joseph.  His fear seems to be his main barrier at the moment.  If we could just find a way to persuade him to tell us who was responsible for this, I think it would help to put his mind at ease as well as ours.  I wish I knew what to say to help him gain that confidence.” 

 

Ben now excused himself from the others so that he could go and check on his son.  He quietly and carefully opened the door, not knowing if Joe had fallen asleep or not. 

 

Joe had heard the creak from the door, signalling that somebody was entering the room.  Up until now he had been awake, trying not to think about what Butch Thomas had said.  He now closed his eyes and evened out his breathing, feigning sleep.   Somehow he could tell it was Pa in the room.  He would never be able to explain to someone how he knew this;  only that he knew.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ben walked around the bed and now sat on a chair beside his sleeping son.   At the moment his son’s face seemed relaxed and peaceful.  It was still slightly pale, as Paul had stated, with the dark circles of fatigue more visible than normally.  He gently caressed his son’s cheek, hoping somehow his son would feel the touch and know that his father was there for him.  If Ben could find a way to instil his own strength and confidence within Joe, he wouldn’t hesitate for a second.

 

“Oh, Joseph.  I wish I knew a way to help you son,” Ben said with heart-felt sounding words. 

 

Joe heard his father’s words and part of him wanted to open his eyes and allow his father to take him into his embrace and give him the security he craved for.  The other part of him, some would say the selfish part, reminded Joe that he wanted to be on his own.  The selfish part won out in the long run, and Joe lay silently listening to his fathers words, but never acknowledging that he heard them.

 

“I wish I knew how to take all the pain and hurt away, son,” Ben said, as he gently stroked Joe’s arm that lay limply alongside of him on the bed.  “I wish I could have been there to stop those men taking you away from me.  I hope someday you will forgive me for not being there when you needed me.  I am so sorry, son.  So sorry.”

 

Ben’s words were interrupted by Adam gently knocking on the doorway between the two suites.  He got up and answered the rap, leaving his son to continue his slumber.

 

“Pa, sorry to disturb you, but Hoss and I thought it might be a good idea to order some room service from downstairs in case Joe wakes later and wants something to eat,” Adam said.  He couldn’t help but see Ben wipe a stray tear from his face on his sleeve as he answered the door.

 

“Alright, Adam, I think that is a good idea.  I don’t know when he will wake but he really should have something to eat when he does,” Ben replied.  “I think I will leave him for now to get some decent rest,” he added now as he glanced back over towards the figure on the bed.  Ben then joined Adam in Fred Harding’s suite and closed the door behind him.

 

Once he heard the door closed, Joe could no longer hold in the tide of emotion that washed over his tired body.  The tears fell freely down his face as he thought about the words his father had said.  After a while though he started to talk to himself harshly. 

 

He thought about all of the events over the last month or so.  How he was taken and what had happened back at the abandoned shack.  How his family had been there to find him and bring him home and nurse him back to health.  Apart from the times that they were prevented being with him, they had been there.  Through thick and thin they had sat by his bedside and cared for his injuries.  They had offered for him to talk to them about what might be troubling him.   All the time they were holding out hands to help, he was slapping them away in refusal and turning his back on them.

 

The threats from Butch Thomas still echoed in his head, but now they started to mingle with the words his father had said and the words that Adam and Hoss had said over the last few weeks.  He was very confused about what was the right thing to do.   He was afraid for what would happen if he did tell somebody about what happened. 

 

After an enormous amount of thought, he finally decided that there was one person that could help him the most at the moment.  That person was in the other room at the moment.  He would need to wait until later tonight to talk to Fred when the rest of his family thought him to be asleep.

 

There was a tiredness that was creeping over him now, and he didn’t try to fight it.  He knew that if he was going to carry out the task he intended tomorrow he was going to need to be fully rested to do so.  He now closed his eyes for real and let the pull of sleep claim him.

 

Adam had checked on Joe a few hours later, hoping that his brother would be awake to take in a much needed meal.  He was a little concerned when it seemed that Joe was sleeping a lot more than they all expected.  Ben had assured the boys that Joe was both physically and emotionally exhausted at the moment and that they were bound to take their toll on his young body.

 

Joe’s sleep wasn’t disturbed at all that evening. He could have a hearty breakfast in the morning to make up for it if he was feeling up to it.   After 10 pm Ben and his boys settled in their own room with Joe and allowed Fred to retire in his own suite and get some rest as well.

 

At about 1 am that night, Joe woke with a slight start.  He didn’t make any noise as he looked around the pitch-black room and tried to work out what time it was.  He knew it must be very late and rubbed at his eyes to try and bring himself more alert.

 

 

 

Joe then looked around the room to make sure that the rest of his family were still asleep.  Hoss was snoring loudly on the other side of the room.  Adam and Ben were in single beds not far from him.  Hopefully Hoss’s snoring would muffle his footsteps across the floor a little.

 

Joe gently eased back the covers on his own bed and very gingerly placed his bare feet onto the floor.  He saw that somebody had propped his crutches up against the walk beside his bed.  They were in reaching distance, and he placed them under his arms and used them to support his still injured leg from any more jarring as he made his way across the floor in the suite.

 

Thankfully, being a carpeted suite, the crutches were muffled even more by the thick pile of the patterned carpet.  He made his way as silently as possible over to the doorway between the two suites.  At one stage he thought he heard one of his family waking behind him and he stopped dead in his tracks until he was certain that the coast was clear.

 

The doorway between the two suites wasn’t locked, and Joe very quietly turned the handle on the door and opened it.  He cursed inwardly when the door creaked slightly at the movement.  He walked into Fred Harding’s suite and then closed the door silently behind him.   He didn’t want to risk knocking on the door and have somebody hear his efforts.

 

On the other side of the door he could see Fred Harding’s bed and the slumbering figure of the prosecutor on it.  He felt incredibly guilty about disturbing the man at this time of the night, but he thought it important enough to do so.

 

“Mr Harding,” Joe whispered as he gently shook the middle-aged man’s shoulder.  The first attempt to wake the lawyer didn’t work so he had to try a little harder and repeat the attempt.  “Mr Harding,” he said again and shook a little more vigorously this time.

 

“What, who?” Fred said, as he woke with a start.  He frowned at first to try and focus on the figure bent over him and the bed.  He couldn’t quite work out who it was.  He pushed himself up into a sitting position and put on his glasses that had been resting on the bedside table. 

 

Joe turned the lamp in the room a little higher for Mr Harding to see.  “Hello, Mr Harding.  Its only me, Joe Cartwright.  I am sorry to disturb you at such a late hour,” he now said apologetically.

 

 

 

 

Fred could now distinguish the outline of the crutches Joe was leaning on and establish the intruder’s identity. “Joe, are you alright?  Has something happened to your father?” he began asking.  He knew that the boy had a terrible time yesterday, and as far as he knew, up until now he had been asleep.  The boy hadn’t even woken up for supper, so if he was standing over his bed in the middle of the night, something must be dreadfully important. 

 

“No, everybody is fine, Mr Harding.  I just really needed to talk to you about what happened today in the courtroom and what is going to happen tomorrow,” Joe now said.

 

Fred now got out of bed and led Joe over to the small dining room table in the room.  “Come and sit down, Joe.  If you have something important to tell me, I would rather be more alert when you did so.”

 

“Thank you, Mr Harding,” Joe said, unable to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want one of your family present when you talk to me, Joe?” Fred asked.

 

“No, Mr Harding.  What I am about to tell you is going to be hard enough, so I would rather that they didn’t hear what I have to say until I say it tomorrow.”

 

Fred was now a little more than curious and a little worried about that statement.

 

“You see, Mr Harding……………” Joe began.  His voice was quite restricted and his words were not flowing as smoothly as he would have liked.  Fred was patient enough though to allow his client all the time he needed to say whatever was troubling him.

 

Joe now proceeded to tell Mr Harding about why he was reluctant to tell anybody about what had happened to him.   He was very careful not to give too many details away.  He never gave Fred specifics about what had happened, just a rough outline.  He told Fred about the threats and the fears that Joe had held since being brought home by his family.  Again he made sure that he left out names and places, never wanting to relinquish the names of his assailants.

 

 

 

 

At the end of the very difficult but revealing conversation, Fred sat silent in thought for a moment as he pondered how best to tackle the problem.

 

“I want to tell the truth, Mr Harding. I really do.  But I am afraid about what hearing such things might do to my family and what fate might befall them or me if I should reveal their identity.”

 

“Joe, here’s what I propose to do,” Fred now suggested.  He and Joe spoke for the next two hours, carefully working out a plan of attack for the courtroom the next day.  Fred told Joe about the approach he would take from the outset and that Joe would have to bear with him at first when the questions began in the morning. 

 

He told Joe that he would need to be particularly strong when reliving his story.  He didn’t have any misgivings about how hard it was going to be to tell these things in an open court, especially when his family had never heard any of the hard details about what Joe had been through.

 

“I can only tell this story once, Mr Harding, so we have to get it right the first time.  I can’t promise how I am going to be tomorrow.  I can’t hide the fact that I am almost too scared to go through with this.  But after what I heard my Pa say earlier this afternoon, I owe to my family to tell the truth and make sure they know that there wasn’t anything else they could have done to prevent those men from doing what they did.”

 

“I think you had better get back to your room before you are missed, young man,” Fred now said in lighter conversation.  He helped Joe to his feet and secured the crutches under his arms enough for him to manage to the doorway on his own.  He watched from behind as Joe made he way across the room.

 

“And, Joe…….,” he said, waiting for Joe to turn around before he continued the comment,  “when this is all over tomorrow and your father finds out, please make sure that there is a fast horse waiting at the stable for my escape.  If there is one thing I would rather avoid, it’s that infamous temper of Ben Cartwright when it comes to protecting one of his own.  You have nothing to worry about, and he can’t possibly be mad at you.  But me, that’s a whole different story.”

 

“On second thought, Mr Harding, I think I will make sure that there is one for you and me.  I don’t think I want to be there to hear what Pa says about our little midnight rendezvous, either,” Joe said with a genuine smile.

 

 

 

Joe now crept back into his room and climbed back into bed without making any noise to alert his family.  He wasn’t able to tell if they had awoken while he was out of the room, but if they hadn’t come looking for him, it was safe enough to assume that they didn’t know he had been in the other room.

 

There were only a few more hours to daylight.  Joe was tired and didn’t find it difficult to fall back to sleep, but his mind was still plagued by what was going to transpire tomorrow.  He just hoped he and Mr Harding were doing the right thing.  His very life may depend on it.

 

***********************************************************

 

The next morning Ben looked over the brim of his coffee cup at the slumbering figure of his youngest son on the other side of the room.  He frowned a little at the thought that he would need to wake the boy shortly to gauge whether or not the trial would proceed today.

 

Ben didn’t need to wait too long, though, as Joe started to stir a little in the bed as the chambermaid came to take away the breakfast dishes.  One tray and coffee pot were left for the still slumbering teenager.

 

At first Joe seemed to have trouble waking up.  It was as though his eyes were too heavy and it was too much of an effort.  The sound of knocking at the door by Fred Harding soon brought the boy around a little more.  He pulled himself up into a sitting position and rubbed tiredly at his eyes before looking about the room and the faces that were watching him from the other side of the room.

 

“Did you sleep alright, son?” Ben asked trying not to be too invasive first up and allowing the boy to become more alert before deciding what the agenda for the day would be.

 

“Yeah, sort of,” Joe said in a drone voice.  The voice sounded thick as though he hadn’t gotten enough sleep though and his blood-shot eyes portrayed a similar picture to the others in the room.  They knew that it must be the stress of yesterday getting to Joe.  As far as they all knew, he had slept through the night without so much as stirring until just now.

 

Ben walked a little closer towards the bed.  He gently squeezed Little Joe’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.

 

“I feel as though I haven’t slept very much at all,” Joe said, being evasive about the previous night’s rendezvous, but being honest enough about how he felt physically because of it.

 

“I am sure you will feel much better after you have something to eat, Joseph.  You didn’t eat anything last night for supper,” Ben now said to his son.

 

Joe now found a tray of breakfast thrust in front of him.  He looked at it and then at the worried faces in the room.  He knew he would have to eat something to ease their minds a little about his physical well-being.  Inside his stomach was already growing into knots about what was going to happen today.   Fifteen minutes later he had managed to eat a small amount of scrambled eggs and toast to satisfy his family.  He pushed the tray aside and sipped slowly at the lukewarm cup of coffee.

 

Halfway through his cup of coffee, there was a knock at the door of the suite.  Adam opened the door and greeted Doc Martin as he entered the room, medical bag in hand. 

 

“Good morning, Adam, Ben and everyone,” he said in a cheery voice.  His eyes though could help but focus on the figure he could see sitting up in bed. 

 

“I thought I would check you over today, Joe, before you and your family make a decision about the trial,” Paul said, as he explained his presence.

 

“Doc, I have already made up my mind to go back into the courtroom today,” Joe said in a casual voice. The reaction he got from his family and the doctor was anything but casual.  Fred Harding had just been entering the Cartwrights’ suite when he heard Joe say the sentence.  He had to hide his on his face when he saw Ben’s face.

 

“Your what?” Ben said, not meaning to put so much power into his voice.  He was now staring at his youngest son with a very puzzled look on his face.  He was looking the boy over with his eyes, trying to scrutinize whether the boy was feeling alright or still undergoing stress from the day before.  Adam and Hoss together with the doctor had equally curious looks on their faces.  Doc Martin thought he would really need to work on Joe’s confidence this morning to get the boy to even talk about what had happened yesterday.

 

Joe put his coffee cup down and looked at his family for a half a minute before answering his father’s question.  When he was sure that he had everyone’s attention he told them what he thought.

 

 

 

 

“I can’t say that I am not scared, because you know I am.  I can’t say that I am going to handle today any better than I did yesterday.  Everything is so jumbled up in my head that it aches sometimes just trying to work it out for myself.  But after all the hard work Mr Harding has put into this case, I can’t just turn my back on it, no matter how sick in the stomach I feel when I am in that courtroom.   

 

“Are you sure you’re alright, son?” Ben asked.  It was a little hard not to be sceptical about how his son would cope for a second day under such pressuring conditions.

 

“Mr Harding, if you ask the questions, I promise to answer them as best I can,” Joe said now, turning towards the prosecutor to reassure his family.

 

“That’s just fine, Joe.  I am sure you will do just fine,” Fred replied simply, so as not to alert the others in the room to  the conversation that he and Joe had had in the early hours of the morning.

 

“Paul, I still would like your opinion on this and how Joe is.   No matter what Joe says, if you say he’s not well enough, then I won’t allow him to be put through the whole ordeal again today,” Ben now said in all seriousness.

 

Paul nodded his head in acknowledgement and now set his bag down on the bedside table and pulled out his equipment to carry out the examination.  Joe sighed inwardly, but allowed the intrusion to take place to the time being.  As much as he hated the doctor’s well-meant check up, he knew that his father would be adamant enough to stop him from telling his story today if he even suspected he was unwell. 

 

After about ten minutes of total silence in the room, Paul stood up, ready to give his verdict on whether or not things would proceed as Fred and Joe hoped they would. 

 

“Well, I must say you still look a might tired ,Little Joe, especially after your Pa says you slept from when I left yesterday until just a little while ago.  But I suppose, given the unusual circumstances, that can’t be helped a lot.  Other than that and the ache I still know is in your leg,”

 

Joe looked at him before he could finish the sentence, wondering how the doctor had known about the pain he was still experiencing, but trying hard to hide as best he could from his family.

 

 

 

 

 

“Yes, Joseph, I can still hear those small gasps of pain that escape under your breath when I touched your bandages just a few minutes ago.    I want you to promise me that you will take things a lot slower and easier today if you can.  Other than that, I think you will be fine.  I am going to stay in the courtroom like yesterday, though, just to make sure there are no problems,” Paul now added.

 

Ben’s worry didn’t dissipate altogether after the doctor’s visit, but it was eased some by Joe’s confession of feeling alright and the doctor’s confirmation of that except for the injured leg and remnants of tiredness from the day before. Adam and Hoss also made a mental note to keep a closer eye on their younger sibling today in case he needed them.

 

By 9.00 am they were all back seated in the courtroom.  Sheriff Roy Coffee had brought the prisoner, Danny Griffiths, back in handcuffs and he was once again sitting in the dock awaiting the trial to begin.

 

Fred was just finishing shuffling through his papers when the Bailiff announced the Judge’s entrance into the courtroom.  He looked over towards Joe in the witness box and gave him a sly wink to reassure his young client that everything would work out alright.  Ben saw the wan smile in return from Joe, but wasn’t exactly sure what secret messages were going on between them.

 

“All rise.  Judge Collins presiding,” the Court Bailiff said, as the Judge walked into the room.

 

Judge Collins put all of his books and paperwork down on his desk first and then turned his attention to Little Joe sitting in the witness box.  He wanted to get his own opinion before the lawyers were given their chance to speak.

 

“How are you today, son?”

 

“A little better, Your Honour.  Not much, but a little” Joe said in reply trying to keep his voice calm and even.

 

“Are we ready to proceed this morning, gentlemen?” the Judge asked, turning towards Mr Simpson and Fred Harding.  Simpson and his client Danny Griffiths seemed to be the only ones in the room uninterested in Joe Cartwrights well being. 

 

 

 

Simpson had been surprised to even see the kid show up.  He threw a brief glance towards the witness box and then shrugged his shoulders.  He somehow suspected the kid would crack under the pressure today as he had done yesterday.  If the prosecution wanted to drag this out a little more for the young man to endure, he was willing to comply. 

 

“Ready, Your Honour.”

 

“Ready to proceed this morning, Your Honour.  As you can see our witness has put on a brave front and presented himself here again this morning,” Fred Harding said, as he addressed the Judge.

 

“Alright, Mr Harding, but if we need to break at any stage today, Mr Cartwright only need to whisper in my ear again, understood?  I will permit any of his family to approach him if necessary as well as Doctor Martin.”

 

All involved nodded their heads in agreement, the Cartwrights thankful that they had a Judge with a little compassion for such a young, impressionable and vulnerable witnesses.

 

“Joe, I want to begin by asking you about your testimony yesterday.  Can you tell me if what you said yesterday was truthful?”

 

“Some of it was and some of it wasn’t exactly the truth,” Joe answered, trying to avoid his father’s gaze for the disappointment he expected to find on Ben’s face. 

 

Ben was a little surprised at Joe’s admittance of not telling the truth.  He knew he still needed to remained supportive, no matter what Joe said he had done.

 

“So you lied,” Fred put it bluntly.  “How much of what you said was true and how much was false?”

 

“I told the truth about finding the man lying on the road.  I didn’t exactly tell the truth about seeing Mr Griffiths before,” Joe now said.  His heart was thumping as he gave the first real indication to the courtroom about knowing the defendant sitting on the other side of the room.

 

“Alright, let’s start again at the beginning shall we.  You promise to tell the absolute truth this time, Joe?”

 

“Yes, I promise.”

 

“Let’s start of with something a little more recent to test your adherence to the truth.  Where were you last night?”

 

Ben and his boys raised his eyebrows at Fred more than a little at this question.  Ben narrowed them in suspicion and waited for his son to answer.  As far as he, Adam and Hoss knew, Joseph had been asleep for the entire night.  Or had he?

 

“I was in the hotel room”

 

“Did you remain in your room the entire night, Joe?”

 

“No, I woke with a start about 1 am.  It was still dark inside the room.  My Pa and brothers were still asleep.”

 

“Did you go back to sleep?”

 

“Not until about 4.30 this morning,” Joe admitted.

 

Ben ran a hand down his face and now realised why his son looked so tired this morning.  All he needed now was the truth about where the boy was between 1 am and 4.30 am.

 

“Where were you during those early morning hours?”

 

“I went into your room, Mr Harding.”

 

Ben could scarcely believe his ears at Joe’s confession.  Fred had known all along that Joe had been awake last night, but chose not to say anything to the family.  Not even this morning when he entered the room when Paul was there.  It was now obvious that Fred had something to do with Joe’s change of heart about taking the witness stand today.

 

“Joe, thank you for being honest.  Now, I want to go right back to the beginning of this story and start again from the morning you left to go to school but didn’t quite make it.  You said yesterday that you didn’t know Mr Griffiths when he was pretending to be hurt on the road?”

 

“No, not at that stage.  When I came across him on my way to school, that was the first time I had ever seen him. I saw him a lot afterwards when they took me away.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Your Honour, before we go any further.  Some of the details that are going to follow may become a little more graphic.  The witness and I have agreed that instead of using people’s names in this story, we are going to call the main offender Mr X.  Hopefully this will help Mr Cartwrights fear of telling the court the truth about what happened without him thinking about this man the whole time.  Once we reach the conclusion, it is our intention then to reveal the real identity of Mr X.  At this stage not even I am privy to that information.  I assure you that Mr Cartwright is the only one in this courtroom who knows the identity of Mr X.”

 

“Very well, Mr Harding.  I must say this is a little unorthodox.  But given the youth of the witness and what happened yesterday, I am willing to let you have a little more freedom with your examination.”

 

“Joe, after the man has stopped pretending to be hurt and has pulled the gun on you, what happened next?”

 

“Danny Griffiths then whistled, signalling for the other men to come out from the bushes that were nearby.”

 

“Did you see these other men?”

 

“Not at first.  While he was waiting for them to come out, I tried to turn around and run.  I thought that if I could just make it to my horse I might be able to get away.”

“Continue.”

 

“Well, like I said I tried to run, but I didn’t get very far.  I fell over and hurt my knee on a rock.  I was just starting to get up again and try to make a second run when I felt a pair of hands grab me from behind and start dragging me into the bushes.”

 

“Did you make it clear to these men that you didn’t want to go with them?”

 

“Yes, I started to scream for somebody to help me, but then somebody put their hand over my mouth very hard.  I could scarcely breath.”

 

Ben’s heart was aching with every word as Joe relived the story of his abduction.  Ben cursed himself for not being there to protect his young son from such monsters.   Adam and Hoss were having an equally bad time at hearing such details from their younger brother.  Both of them wanted to know who this mystery Mr X was and break his neck.

 

“What happened next, Joe?”

 

“Well, they kept dragging me further into the trees.  I could see Mr Griffiths taking Cochise’s reins and leading her into the trees as well.  I tried to get away.  I was kicking and trying to get free, but there were two of them, and they were just too strong for me.   Once we got into the trees where we couldn’t be seen from the roadway, I was pushed up against a large tree and held there.”

 

“Did you say anything then, Joe?”

 

“No, because the hand was still over my mouth then.   Mr X took the hand away and started to tie my hands together with a piece of rope.   I tried to scream for help again when he didn’t have his hand over my mouth, but all he did was slap me very hard across the face.  It stung.”

 

Hoss found himself wringing his hands together to work out the frustration he was feeling at hearing his brother’s heartfelt story.  He wanted so bad to slap these men back for his brother.  How dare they strike a young teenager without cause?  The mere thought made his blood boil.

 

“You’re doing just fine, Joe,” Fred now reassured his witness as he saw the strain beginning to show on Joe’s face.  The kid was still holding up well, but the eyes held all the expression of fear and anxiety.

“What happened after they tied your hands together?”

“The other man asked what they were going to do with me now.   Mr X told him that they were going to take me to a place until my Pa did what they said.”

 

“Mr X said that it was time for me to go to sleep then,” Joe said, as he felt a shiver go up his spine as he recalled the rag being placed over his face.  “He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.  It had a strange smell to it.  I didn’t like the smell and tried to turn my face away before he could place it over my mouth and nose, but he grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced my face towards the strange-smelling cloth.”

 

“Do you remember anything after that about how you might have gotten to the place where you were being held at, Joe?”

 

“No, I tried to fight against the smell, but after a few minutes I must have passed out because I don’t remember anything else until after I woke up in the shack.”

 

Adam’s face was like a mask of stone as he listened to his brother’s story of pain and anguish.  He wanted to take all the hurt and memories away for Joe.  He couldn’t have imagined how frightened Joe must have been of this Mr X as he was told he was being taken away from his family by force.

 

“You’re doing very well, Joseph.  I know this is extremely difficult and I admire your courage and I really need you to keep being so brave for just a little while longer,” Fred now said sympathetically to the young man.   Truth be known, he knew that there was a very long way to go, but maybe the thought of it all ending would help Joe a little.

 

“What’s the next thing you remember, Joseph, after you were taken by these three men?”

 

“The next thing I remember is hurting all over.  My mind was still very fuzzy from that stuff they used so I had to stop and think for a few minutes about where I was.  The ground was awfully hard.  Somehow my ankles were now tied up as well as my hands.  I don’t remember them doing that back at the tree so they must have tied them after I passed out.”

 

“Could  you describe the surroundings you found yourself in a little better, please, Joseph?”

 

“I can’t tell you what the room looked like if that’s what you’re asking,” Joe now said, his voice becoming distinctly soft in volume.

 

“Why is that, Joe?”

 

“Because the men had tied a blindfold over my eyes so I couldn’t see where I was,” Joe said and turned his attention to his feet to hide his anxiety.

 

Ben gave his son a reassuring smile as the boy lifted his head slightly.  He knew that the boy was going through a terrible time at the moment reliving something he would rather not.  Ben couldn’t help but feel a stab to his heart though every time Joe uttered a piece to the puzzle he was yet to hear.

         

“What did you do when you realised that you were blindfolded and couldn’t see?”

 

 

 

 

“For a while I just lay there scared.  Not knowing where I was, where my family was.  Not knowing if any of them even knew that I was missing yet.  I couldn’t tell how long had passed between being on the roadway and waking up in the shack.  It seemed like a long time, but it could have only been a few hours.”

 

“Go on, Joe.”

 

“Well, after a while I tried to get the blindfold off so I could see where I was.”

 

“How did you achieve this when your hands and feet were tied together?”

 

“I used the hard ground and rubbed the side of my face backwards and forwards, trying to get the blindfold to move upwards or downwards on my face.”

 

“That must have hurt some, Joe.”

 

“Not much.  I felt a little sting, but I couldn’t see or feel any blood on my face.”

 

Ben sighed inwardly to himself and looked towards Adam with recognition in his eyes.  Both of them had seen the scratches on the side of Joe’s face when they had first taken him to his room.  When they had first found Joe there were too many other more serious injuries to worry about.  With the strong glow of the lantern in his bedroom, both men remembered seeing the abrasions on Joe’s pale skin and wondering how they had come about.

“Once you were able to remove the blindfold, were you able to see better your forced surroundings?”

“Not really, it was pretty dark inside the room and it was a very small space towards the back of the shack.  There was no window in the room, just a door that led into the other room from the front door.”

 

“Were there any objects like furniture in the room that you could make out, Joseph?”

 

“If there was, I didn’t see it.  I didn’t get much of a chance to look around the room anyway once the blindfold was off.”

 

“And why was that, Joe?”

 

“Because that’s when Mr X came to the door,” Joe said and swallowed heavily as he remembered the voice speaking to him as he lay on the hard cold ground in the darkened room.  

         

“What did Mr X say to you?”

 

“He said there were a few things he wanted to explain to me.”

 

“About?”

 

“About what was going to happen to me while I was there, I suppose.  He really didn’t explain things very much at all.”

   

“What happened next?”

 

“He took me out of the smaller room into the larger one.”

 

“How did you do this?  Did they untie your legs?  Did they carry you?”

 

“No, they didn’t untie my legs.  Mr X grabbed one of my arms and started to drag me across the floor before I even had the chance to get up.”

 

Hoss Cartwrights eyes were like two pieces of blue crystal at the moment.  Both of them cold and hard as he heard his brother’s soft voice almost breaking at the ordeal that he was forced to endure.  For a brief moment, the flame of revenge could be seen to flicker in the very centre of those  blue eyes. 

 

“What happened once you were taken into the larger room of the shack, Joe?”

 

“Mr X threw me harshly into a chair that was there.  I closed my eyes because of the light from the lanterns.  My eyes were sore after being in the dark for so long.  I had to open them slowly and allow them adjust to the room so they didn’t hurt so much.”

 

“Did you say anything to your kidnappers at this time, Joe?”

 

“No, once I let my eyes adjust to the light in the room, I started to look around for some way to escape.”

 

“What was the next thing that Mr X did whilst you were seated in that chair, Joe?”

 

“Hit me hard across the face when he saw that I was looking around the room for a way out.  He came right up to my face and said I would regret it if I tried to get away and he caught up with me.  He told me a whole lot of other things, too.  Threats about what would happen if I didn’t listen to everything they said to me and told me to do.  Told me about not speaking unless I was told I could.”

 

“Did you answer any of the threats against you from Mr X?”

 

“I told him that I understood and that’s when he hit me hard again for talking out of line,” Joe said grimly and without even thinking of it, his hand went to the spot of the slap across the face, and he rubbed at the area in memory.

 

Ben’s blood was almost at boiling point inside. He could scarcely sit still in the chair long enough to take in what had happened to his son.  He swore that Mr X would pay for every single cry of pain he caused his son.  He would see justice served one way or the other. 

 

Adam was like Hoss and sat in stony silence as his brother recalled the events.  It was very difficult for all of them to hear what Joe was saying happened to them.  None of them had any idea of the torment and pain the youngest Cartwright had gone through.  Joe had certainly kept some very dark secrets to himself about what had happened.

How many more dark secrets did the boy hold onto?

 

“Was Mr X responsible for making most of the threats at this stage, Joe?”

 

“Yes. The other two just stood behind him, watching it all and then laughing.  I remember Mr X hitting me in the stomach.  I fell out of the chair onto the floor because of the pain.  I could scarcely breathe.  Mr X grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and held me upright.  If he hadn’t been holding onto my shirt, I would still be on the floor. My legs just wouldn’t hold me up anymore.”

“What did you do then, Joe?”

 

“He held me there for a few seconds and laughed at my pain.  The other two men started laughing at me harder as well.  That’s when I started to get mad inside.   I was angry at being hit for no reason.  Angry that they thought I was something just to punch and leave in the dirt.”

 

 

 

 

 

Ben and Adam had to smirk a little at Joe’s temper.  If there was one thing certain in this world it was Joe Cartwrights temper, even if he was in the worst situation possible like this, sometimes there was just no holding him back. All of them had been on the receiving end of Joe’s hot tongue on numerous occasions when he thought he was being victimised.  His brothers had even been on the receiving end of a few mistimed punches of Joe’s own when he really got wound up about something he thought was unfair.  They had to be thankful to a certain degree because it was that same volatile temper that had seen him through some very narrow scrapes in the past.

 

“What did you do when he made you angry, Joe?” Fred asked.

 

“Do I have to say it out loud?” Joe asked, a little embarrassed and a little guilty about what his Pa and brothers would think about where he had kicked Butch Thomas.

 

“Don’t worry, son, nobody in this room is going to think any less of you.  You have nothing to fear here about what you might have done to try and safe your life.  You can it out loud without fear of retribution from anybody in this room.”

 

“I kicked him in the crotch,” Joe said in a barely audible whisper with his head almost down in his lap.  Almost nobody in the room heard his answer.

 

“Sorry, son, you will have to speak up so everybody hears you.”

 

“I kicked him between his legs,” Joe said in a louder voice and then immediately diverted his gaze from his family, not wanting to see any disapproving looks that may be present.

 

What Joe heard was the exact opposite.  There was a few whispers amongst the back rows in the courtroom.  Adam turned around and gave a stern look to those responsible causing those responsible to fall into silence once again. Hoss on the other hand thought it was the most daring thing he had ever heard Joe do.  He also thought it was the most danged funniest thing he had heard.  He was happy that his little brother had been able to extract a little pain and suffering from his captors.

 

Hoss laughed loudly enough for everyone to hear.  Even the Judge himself had to hide a chuckle at the boy’s brash actions.  Hoss settled himself down and gave his brother the biggest grin he could muster.  He definitely needed to pat his little brother on the back when they returned home.

 

Ben wasn’t disapproving of Joe’s actions.  He just never thought his son was capable of doing something like that. He too was glad that there had been a little streak of rebelliousness in his son at a time when he needed it most.

 

The laughter soon stopped suddenly, though, when everybody waited to hear Joe’s painful recollection of what happened as a result of that aimed kick.

 

“Were you able to escape as a result of your kick to Mr X, Joe?”

 

“Almost.  My feet were still tied together so I had to hop to the front door.  I managed to get a hand on the doorknob, but those other two fellows then grabbed me and pulled me back away from the door.  They kicked me in the ribs a couple of times and then threw me back into the chair in front of Mr X.”

 

“What did Mr X do next, Joe?” Fred asked, regretting to hear what he already suspected had happened.

 

“He pulled me upright again by the front of my shirt this time and held me out in front of him about arm’s length away. Then he just let loose with fists of fury.  The first punch to my stomach was so hard I thought I was going to be physically sick.  I was going to try and say something to him to make him stop, but before I could even look up, he hit me again.  Over and over again, he hit me.  I don’t know how many times he hit me but after a while I don’t  remember any more.  I think I must have been knocked out from the punches.” 

 

By the time Joe finished this portion of testimony he was physically shaking.  Doc Martin walked over to him and knelt in front of him, clearly concerned for the boy’s well-being.

 

Ben also went to his son, but he quickly wiped away the tears that he couldn’t stop after what Joe had just told them.   He could scarcely find words to speak to his son about how he felt about such vicious and cruel treatment being taken out on him.

 

Doc Martin handed Joe a glass of cool water, which was accepted gratefully.  “Are you alright, Little Joe?”

 

Joe continued to sip from the glass for a few more seconds.  When he handed it back to the doctor, his face was still pale and his eyes showed some signs of fatigue setting in.

 

“I can’t stop now, Pa, or I will never get this finished,” Joe said, as he answered Paul’s question to his father.

 

“What do you say, Paul?  Is it advisable for him to continue?” Ben now asked his friend.  Even though he knew the court needed to continue, he wasn’t prepared to risk his son’s health and have him collapse in front of everybody like he done yesterday, no matter how strong the protests about him being allowed to continue.

 

“You’re starting to look a little tired, there Joe,” Paul said, voicing out loud his observations of the boy’s condition.   “Are you sure you don’t want a small break, even just for a few minutes?”

 

“If I stop now, these thoughts going around and around in my head are going to make my go crazy, Doc,” Joe answered honestly.  “I need to get them out and then I can rest.  I don’t think I would be able to rest very well at the moment, anyway.  My head is so full of flashbacks and memories that it is difficult to tell my nightmares from reality at the moment.  Please, I need to continue and finish this.” 

 

Joe’s emerald green eyes held the pleading look that convinced Paul that he needed to do exactly that.

 

“Alright, but you say when you have had enough,” Paul said making sure that Joe took note of his advice.

 

“Your Honour, the witness is getting fatigued very quickly, but has requested that he be allowed to continue.  I will allow him to continue at this stage, but I will be checking on him regularly throughout the rest of the morning.  If I feel he is risking his health again, like yesterday, I will request a break on medical grounds,” Paul said, as he addressed the Judge.

 

The Judge acknowledged the doctor’s sound advice with a nod of his head and a glance at the young witness beside him.  He had much admiration for a young man, so determined to put things right but so full of painful memories that nobody should have to go through.

 

“What’s the next thing you remember after being punched over and over by Mr X, Joe?” Fred asked in a very compassionate voice.  He had never had a witness before who had been so victimised or hurt.  He doubted he would have one ever again that had gone through as much as Joe Cartwright.

 

 

 

 

“The next thing I remember is waking up with pain.  Lots of it.  It was really hard at first to tell where it was coming from.  The punches that Mr X threw seemed to land everywhere on me.  When I started to come to, I was lying on the floor.  That’s where I must have landed when I passed out.”

 

“Can you describe what sort of pain you were feeling, Joseph, and where you think it might have been coming from?”

 

“It was different from when I woke up in the other room.  When I woke up in there, it was just mainly stiffness from my hands and ankles being tied up for so long and the awkward position I was lying in.  When I woke up the second time, the pain was more distinct and very sharp in some places like my ribs and chest.  I couldn’t even move a inch on the floor to try and sit up to see where I was hurting without feeling some sort of pain.”

 

“Please continue, Joe, about what happened after you came to on the floor.”

 

Joe swallowed hard and looked towards his family.  No matter how hard the story had been to tell so far, the next part was going to be somewhat harder still because these where the incidents that had truly driven the fear into Joe.  What happened next was why he had been waking up screaming from his nightmares once he was returned home.  These were some of the biggest secrets he had ever dared to keep from his family, and he wasn’t sure how they would react once they heard the entire details.

 

Ben saw the look on Joe’s face and knew that his son was battling again to keep it all together.  He saw his son’s reluctance to reveal the details he had kept to himself for so long.   He continued to show his son compassion,  understanding and love through his dark brown eyes.  If it was security and a sense of safety Joseph needed to feel right now, he need look no further than his family, sitting only a short distance from him.  They would led him through the darkness and pain into the light and comfort.

 

After all they had heard so far, nobody, including Judge Collins, was willing to rush the young man.  They sat in complete silence and waited until he was ready to start telling the story again.

 

 

 

 

 

“The next thing that I remember was Mr X lifting me up by the front of my shirt again and throwing me back into the chair.  I thought he was going to start the punishment all over again.    I tried to push myself away from his reach, but he came up close to my face again and told me that I would regret doing what I had done.  He said that he would make me learn the lessons the hard way.”

 

“What did Mr X mean by this statement, Joe?”

 

He told Danny Griffiths over there to start making a noose out of some rope.  Danny went to his saddlebags and pulled out some thick rope and started to knot it together.”

 

All eyes suddenly diverted to the prisoner sitting in the dock as it became clearer that he had a much larger part to play in this sickening act than first thought.  Griffiths could feel the cold eyes of steel from almost every man and woman in the courtroom, and was at least grateful for the fact of the slight barricade of the dock being between him and them at the moment.  It wasn’t much protection from an angry mob, but it was all he had.

 

“Do you mean to tell this court, Joe, that Mr X instructed the defendant in the box over there to start making a loop out of rope?”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“Did Mr X give any indication what the loop of rope was to be used for?” Fred asked, knowing it sounded like a stupid question before he even asked it.

 

“Um, he said a lot of things, really.  Some I remember, some I don’t.  Some of it didn’t really sink in at the time. I was too afraid and too trying to deal with the pain I was feeling,” Joe replied.  Although he was prepared to give honest answers in the courtroom today,  the words that Butch Thomas had spoken to him that day about him being is worst fear and always being in his dreams was something that he was not prepared to ever repeat again.  The words had been echoing in his head since he had returned home and they still haunted him today.

 

Fred saw the reluctance in Joe to fully give the words spoken, but didn’t think they were critical to the whole case as this stage. 

 

Ben also saw Joe’s hesitation and wondered whether they would ever know what this monster of evil had said to his son that was so encrusted into the boy’s mind.  Whatever he had said had poisoned Joe’s mind and soul with fear. 

 

“He said he was going to knock some of the fight out of me,” Joe now answered truthfully.

 

“How did he intend to do that, Joseph?”

 

“He grabbed me by the front of my shirt again and pulled me to my feet again.  I thought he was going to start hitting me again. But he didn’t.    He just started lifting me higher into the air until I couldn’t feel my feet touching the floor anymore.   He lifted me higher and higher, and then forced me to stand on the seat of the chair.”

 

The tears were spilling down Joe’s cheeks now as he relived those terrifying moments, but he kept his voice as steady as possible and continued the story.

 

“I tried to pull away from his grip a few more times but he hit me a couple of times again.   He then let one of the hands holding on to me loose.  Danny had thrown the long rope with the noose at the end over one of the beams close to the ceiling of the room.  The noose was just above my head when Mr X let go with one hand.”

 

Ben found it very difficult to sit and listen to the words his son spoke at the moment.  It was not difficult to work out why someone would tie a noose in a rope for someone.  What made it harder to take was that this Mr X seemed to enjoy dragging the torment on for his son.   Dragging out his punishment and pain until the boy was broken both physically and mentally.

 

Adam had contemplated on taking a walk outside on a number of occasions so he didn’t have to listen to the too painful recollection of events from his brother.  A walk into the fresh air might clear his head and prevent him from hearing anymore than he could stand but he told himself that he needed to be there not only showing support to his brother when he needed it most but also because his father and younger brother were finding this as hard to listen to as he was.   They had to stand together as a family.

 

“Mr X was trying to put the noose of the rope over my head.  I kept shaking my head around a little and moving it from side to side to make it harder for him, but eventually he got tired of fighting against me and yanked my head still by grabbing a fistful of my hair.   Once the rope was around my neck, he tightened it until I could almost not breathe.  He made sure that the knot was directly behind my neck.”

 

“Did you say anything to try and stop him from trying to hurt you any further?” Fred asked.  He wanted to try and avoid using the words ‘hang’ or ‘hanging’ as much as possible for the sake of the witness and the family.

 

“Yes,” Joe replied and chewed his lip a little.  “I tried to tell him that he couldn’t do it.  I was begging him, pleading for my life, because I thought he was really going to kill me right then and there.  But no matter how much I pleaded, he told me that he could and there would be no witnesses to see it.”

 

“Mr X let go of my shirt then, and Danny tied the other end of the rope off to the side of the room.  He pulled it so tight that I had to stand on tippee toes to reach the chair.  I kept trying to move my head and loosen the rope, but it didn’t work.  The roped only dug deeper into my neck and starting irritating the skin around my neck.”

 

“How many men were in the room now, Joe, when this was all happening?”

 

“Three.  Mr X, Danny Griffiths and somebody else.  I knew his name, but I forget it just now.  I’ll remember it later.  They all stood on the other side of the room closest to the front door.”

 

“Mr X then told the other two that they needed some shooting practice and that they could start practicing on the legs of the chair that I was standing on.”

 

Joe reached for the glass of water that had been left beside him and drank long and gratefully, trying to hide his emotions that were threatening to get the better of him again.  As he drank, he looked over the rim of the glass and got to see the distressed look on the faces of his father and brothers as well as the fearful looks on some of the other people sitting behind them.  His father looked very pale and a little tired himself to Joe. 

 

“Did they start shooting at the chair, Joe?” Fred asked, hoping that by some miracle that something else had intervened and stopped this act of sheer violence.

 

“Mr X told them he would take the first shot just to show them what to do,” Joe answered and placed the almost empty glass back on the ledge of the witness box beside him.

 

“Which leg did Mr X aim at, Joe?”

 

“I don’t know, I couldn’t see from where I was standing.  But I heard the gunshot and then felt the front of the chair start to tip forward, so it must have been one of the front legs that he hit with the bullet.  I had to move my feet towards the back of the chair to stop it from falling over and the rope from pulling any tighter around my neck.   It took a couple of attempts to get the chair from rocking back and forth.”

 

Fred looked at Joe as if to ask the next question of what happened next.  He didn’t need to, though, and Joe took this as his cue to keep the story flowing as much as possible.  He was beginning to look a little more tired and haggard in his facial features.  Fred could see Doctor Paul Martin still keeping a close eye on him from nearby.

 

“Mr X told them to make it quick for me and for both of them to shoot at the other legs together.”

 

“What was the next thing you heard to saw, Joe?”

 

“I heard three shots.  Two together, at first, which must have been from Griffiths and the other fellow, but I swore, as I felt the chair fall out from under me and the rope start to get tighter, that I head a third shot.  I don’t know who fired it.  It must have been one of the men in the room, there was no one else who could have done it but I didn’t see anything else.  The only thing I could recall at this time was the sensation of falling as the rope got tighter and tighter.  I couldn’t breathe and think I must have passed out again before I hit the floor.”

 

“What were your thoughts as you felt yourself falling from the chair, Joe?”

 

“That I was dying,” Joe said honestly.  “That this was so unfair and I was going to die right there and then without my family even knowing where I was or that I was dead.”

 

Ben and Hoss had to wipe away fresh tears from their eyes at the conclusion of Joe’s statement.  It was now becoming clearer by the minute to all of them why Joe had kept all of these thoughts and feelings to himself over these weeks.  How he had done it without torturing himself further, they didn’t know.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

They all knew that although they were hearing every detail of what had happened to Joe today for the very first time, none of them would ever experience exactly how Joe felt at any given time during his captivity.  Joe could describe the pain he was feeling and they could see the physical injuries and scars that were to be left behind,  but nobody would ever be able to fully appreciate what terrible monsters these men had been to do this to Joe.

 

Fred could scarcely put the words together as he knew he had to ask his young and already tormented witness to keep describing the ordeal that he went through. 

 

“Can you tell us what happened next, Joe?”

 

“Well, the next time I can too I was a little confused.  I didn’t know whether I was alive or dead.  I didn’t know how much time had passed between then and when I had fallen off the chair.  Then the pain in my ankles and wrists started to get very bad again so I knew that somehow I was still alive.”

 

“Could you  tell what time of day it was when you woke up again?”

 

“No, everything was really hazy then.  I could barely lift my head off the floor without it pounding from the headache that I had.  I never looked out the window to see if the sun was up or not.”

 

“Was all that happened in the shack, Joe?” Fred asked, hoping that that was it, but knowing deep inside that there had been more.

 

“No.  I guess they must have heard me when I woke up.  I must have been moaning from the pain.  I heard Mr X come into the room again.  I tried to pretend that I was still asleep, but he didn’t believe it for a minute.  He picked me up and pulled me in front of him again.  He told me it was time to play the next game.”

 

“Did you try and plead with him again to stop hurting you, Joe?”

 

“Not really.  I was feeling pretty miserable by this time.  When he was telling me that there was more pain and hurt in store for me I just told him to get it over with and kill me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ben felt the blood drain from his face as his son uttered these words.  Paul had seen the paleness of his old friend’s face and could scarcely believe that somebody would be evil enough to cause enough hurt and pain for the boy to feel like there was no reason at all left to live.  Ben assured Paul that he was alright, but he found his stomach tied in knots with the worry he was experiencing. 

 

“What was this other sick game that Mr X devised, Joe?” Fred asked, knowing he was stepping over the boundaries a little when he made the comment, but not really caring about protocol at this point in time.

 

“They dragged me over to another chair in the room.  I didn’t have enough strength to fight them.  I hadn’t had any food or water the whole time, and my legs wouldn’t hold me up anymore.   Mr X then pulled out his gun and emptied the shells out onto the floor.  My mind counted them as they fell one by one to the floor.  I thought he was just going to shoot me and it would be all over.”

 

“How many bullets were emptied onto the floor, Joe?”

 

“Six.  Four that were still good and two that had been fired.  And that’s when I realised that he did have something else in mind because there weren’t any bullets left in the barrel to shoot me then.”

 

“What did Mr X do next?”

 

“He picked up one of the good bullets and cleaned the dust off with his shirt.  Then he loaded it into one of the chambers in the gun.  He closed the barrel and then begun spinning it around and around.”

 

Adam looked at his brother.  It didn’t take a genius to work out what the game was that this monster wanted to play with Joe.  Russian roulette was a very old and deadly game.  It had been played many times in saloons and bars all over the world.   He just never thought that his brother’s life would be the ultimate price for such a gamble.

 

Fred asked the question that everybody in the room already knew the answer to, “Do you know what Mr X intended to do with the bullet and the gun, Joe?”

 

“He intended to play Russian roulette.” Joe said without any emotion in his voice.

 

“Did he tell you how he intended to play out these nasty deeds?”

 

“Yes, he said that he would spin the barrel first and then shoot and if the chamber was empty and I was still alive, I would get to spin the barrel next.  We were to keep taking turns until my luck ran out, I guess.”

 

“What was his next step?”

 

“He put the barrel of his gun against my temple and pressed hard,” Joe said.  He was looking at the floor as he spoke, trying to avoid his family’s reaction.  He didn’t see Paul Martin and Ben look at each other and realise, for the first time since they saw it, what had made the perfectly round bruise on Joe’s temple when his injuries were first

being assessed. 

 

Up until now Paul had no idea what had made such a mark on the boy.  He had even testified to the fact yesterday that he drew a blank at the instrument that might have been used.  He had never thought, in all his professional years as a doctor that he could start feel hatred for someone he had never even met.  

 

“Joe, everybody here knows what a terrible time you were put through.  To save you from some stress and unwanted memories, I think it is safe to say that when the gun was fired, the chamber was empty.”

 

“Yes.  The first time and the second time,” Joe replied, making sure that they all knew that the scene had been played out more than once.

 

“You mean Mr X spun the barrel a second time and pulled the trigger again?” Fred said a little dismayed at the man’s obvious efforts to totally break the boy’s mental and physical spirit.

 

“No,” Joe said sharply as he lifted his head and saying the word with definition on his face.

 

Fred had a confused look on his face that said he wanted Joe to explain his answer. 

 

“What I mean is that yes, the gun was fired a second time, but Mr X didn’t do it the second time.  He made me spin it the second time and forced me to pull the trigger myself when the barrel was against my head.  My hands were still tied together and shaking so much that I could barely get the barrel to spin properly.”

 

“Oh, Joe,” Fred said in a very sorrowful voice.  He really didn’t know what else to say. 

 

“I guess somebody must have been watching over me,” Joe said with a little false laughter at the end.  He knew that everybody felt sorry for him about what happened, but his fierce sense of independence wanted them all to forget what had happened just like he had to try and do.  

 

Ben had a fairly good idea who Joe thought was watching over him that day and he turned his face towards the ceiling and sent a silent prayer to the Lord above and to his wife Marie.

 

Joe asked for another glass of water.  Hoss was only happy to oblige his younger brother.  At least this way he thought he was doing something useful.  He had promised his father and Marie that he would always be there for Joe when he needed him.   After hearing his brother’s horrific story of self-reliance and survival, he had never felt that he had let his brother down so strongly before.

 

“Did anything else happen after that, Joe?”

 

“I don’t really remember anything else.  I had my eyes closed, too scared to open then and see the bullet that was about to kill me.   The next thing I felt was a hit to the back of my head with something hard.  I don’t know what he used, but it hurt and all I saw was blackness.”

 

“Is that the last time you saw, Mr X?”

 

“Yes and no” Joe answered simply.  But not the last time I heard him or saw him in my dreams, he thought silently to himself.

 

“I am afraid you will have to expand on that double answer, Joe”

 

“Yes, it is the last time I seen him at the shack.  Its not the last time I have seen him since I was brought home.”

 

Fred made a mental note to explore that answer in detail a little later on.

 

“Can you tell us how you managed to escape from the shack, Joe?”

 

“I came to back in the smaller room in the shack.  My head hurt so bad I could barely sit up.   It took a long time for me to be able to focus enough to look around.  The room was very dark and it was hard even to make out any basic shapes.  My feet and hands were still tied together.  They were starting to go numb from the blood not circulating through them.”

 

 

 

 

“For a long time I just tried to loosen the rope around my hands and feet.  The ropes were very tight, and I didn’t think I was going to do it.   After a long time I felt the ropes on my ankles stretch a little, not much but a little.  I took off my shoes.   When my shoes were off it was fairly easy to pull my feet through the rope.  Then I started on my hands.   They also took a lot of time to stretch the rope.  My hands stung from the skin being almost rubbed away in some places.”

 

“My eyes must have adjusted to the darkness in the room some, and I could see a cup of water sitting on the floor a little way from me.  When I got to it I drank a little of it and then poured the rest of it over my hands to try and stop the pain and stinging from the rope.  I poured a little on my ankles, but they were not as raw because I had long trousers on.  The rope hadn’t rubbed against the skin so much around my ankles.”

 

“I started to look around the room for some way to get out.  I couldn’t have gone through the front door because they would have caught me again.   I tried to find another way out.  I kept stopping, though, because I thought I heard them coming towards the door.”

 

“I moved to the furthest corner in the room where I thought the sound would be heard the least.  I started to feel around the boards of the walls for ones that might be a little loose and I could get my hands underneath.   When I felt the ground underneath the boards, it was very wet and muddy from the rain outside.  I could feel the bottom of the boards were wet, too.   I put my feet against them and grabbed a hold of one of them and started to pull from the bottom.  I was lucky and the first one broke fairly easily.”

 

“How many of them did you have to break to make a hole big enough to escape?”

 

“Four.   I still hadn’t had anything to eat so I was a bit skinny.   When I had crawled through the hole and got to the other side, the front of my shirt was covered in mud.”

 

“What time of the day was it outside now, Joe, are you able to tell us?”

 

“I didn’t stay still very long to look at the sky, Mr Harding, but I think it was a few hours before sunrise.  There was a little light just above the horizon.   After I started running, I didn’t look at the sky very much at all.   I just wanted to get away from there before they found out I was missing.”

 

“Did you have any idea about the direction you were headed in when you started to run?”

 

“No.  I just wanted to get away.   I think I headed towards the light.”

 

“Did the landmarks start to become familiar to you as you escaped, Joe?”

 

“No, after a while I couldn’t run anymore because the pain in my chest and side were just too bad.  I had a headache that was really bad, too.   All of the trees looked the same to me.   I had to stop quite a lot to catch my breath. My lungs were burning so that I thought I must have something wrong with my ribs, maybe from all of the kicks and punches.”

 

“Did you start to recognize things a little easier once the sun rose higher?”

 

“Yes and no.  I still didn’t recognize where I was.   I came across some muddy water and took a small drink from it. I thought I might get sick if I drank too much.”

 

“What happened next?”

 

“After a while walking I came across a stream.   Only a small one, not very wide.  Only a few steps to the other side. I put my foot into the water and couldn’t believe how cold it was.  I almost stopped myself from going any further, but there wasn’t anywhere else that was any shallower to cross.  I didn’t know if I had the time to search for a narrower crossing further up or downstream.   I thought Mr X and the others must have found me missing by now.”

 

“After that I don’t remember anything else until I woke up with Pa beside me back in my room,” Joe said. 

 

“You don’t remember anything about stepping on the rusty trap in the stream and being found unconscious by your family some time later?”

 

“No.  Nothing.  The only thing I felt when I woke up next was being cold,” Joe admitted.

 

Ben nodded his head at this statement as he remembered how cold his son’s body had been when they found it in the stream and how his son had asked for blankets to warm him when he woke up.

 

Joe had started to force himself to relax a little over the last half an hour or so.   Although the memories in his head were still very vivid, he couldn’t believe how much relief he actually got from telling things out in the open.   It was as if the weight he had been feeling on his shoulders was beginning to lift ever so slowly. 

 

That false sense of security was short-lived as the sound of footsteps could be heard entering the courtroom.   Joe looked up and saw two men enter the room.   His eyes only focused on one of them.  He could feel his chest and throat begin to constrict with the fear that he felt.  He felt as though he could scarcely breathe.  This couldn’t be happening, he told himself, but the scene before him told him that his silent nightmare was about to come reality.

 

Joe had diverted his face and head from the two men as they walked across the room and sat only a few rows behind the defence lawyer.  It was Henry Williams, shouldered by Butch Thomas.    Thomas smirked silently as he saw the face of his young victim as he entered.  It had been just the reaction he was looking for. 

 

Butch Thomas and Henry Williams had not heard the majority of what Joe had said.   Butch Thomas told himself that he could watch the trial without fear of being identified.  The kid wasn’t going to talk if he knew what was best for him.   He carefully noted the position of various people in the room.   He looked over and looked casually at Danny Griffiths in the prisoner dock, careful not to allow any sign of recognition to cross his face and give their acquaintance away.

 

Thomas also made a mental note of where the Sheriff was standing in the room as well as the kid’s family.  He was lucky enough to recognize the black-haired brother he had seen before he took the kid.  He assumed the large man sitting beside him and the silver-haired man in the same row must have been the boy’s family.   He recognized the doctor he had spoken to after the boy had been found and returned home.  He didn’t pay any attention to Fred Harding, the prosecutor.   

 

Thomas’s glance caught a glimpse of the only firearm he could see in the room, on the Sheriff.  He had concealed a small pistol inside the coat of his jacket.  Nobody would even know it was there. Williams had been suspicious about the whole thing of going to the courtroom and gloating secretly in front of everyone.   Thomas had been a little more persuading, though, and told Williams that everything would work out as long as he acted like a concerned citizen like the other people in the courtroom.

 

Paul Martin and Ben Cartwright had noticed an immediate change in Joe.   They had seen two unknown men walk into the room and take a seat at the back of the courtroom, but they had no reason to suspect that they were the cause for Joe’s sudden pallor and loss of composure. 

 

 

 

 They both approached Joe again with concern clearly on their faces.  They knew that something was very wrong with Joe at the moment.   The boy was trembling slightly again and the paleness of his skin alarmed them the most. 

 

“Joe, are you alright?” Paul asked, reaching out a gentle hand and trying to reassure the boy that everything was alright.  They had all heard the harrowing version of events given by the boy only a short time ago.   Although he seemed to be as strong as everybody had expected throughout the whole story, maybe now the emotions of what had happened where truly beginning to catch up with him as he listened to his own words and remembered the pain that he had endured.

 

Joe fought against his fear, telling himself that he had to finish this, no matter how hard it was.  His eyes kept trying to pull his attention to Butch Thomas sitting in the room.   His mind was screaming at him that the man was there to hurt him again.  To possibly take him away from his family again. 

 

It took all Joe’s willpower to keep his eyes focused on the floor in front of him.  He had barely taken any notice of the questions asked of him by Doc Martin or his father.  He looked up and found them awaiting an answer to a question he hadn’t heard.

 

“Sorry, Pa, I didn’t hear what you said,” Joe said in a small voice.

 

Ben was patient enough to repeat the question for his son, “The doctor asked if you were alright, Joseph?”

 

“I need to finish this, Pa,” Joe replied with a pleading look in his eyes.  “I have told almost all there is to know.  I can’t tell all of that and then just turn away when I am almost at the end.   I just can’t, Pa.”

 

Ben knew this statement to be completely true.  His son had shown more courage and bravery than he had seen in most men twice his son’s age by geting up on this witness stand today and telling the story they had all just heard.  He couldn’t expect his son to recover just because he had shared his experiences.   Part of the healing process involved the completion and closure from the court.  If Joe didn’t get that closure, his pain and mental anguish might never go away.

 

Ben now looked at the doctor beside him and saw the same thoughts on his face.  He, too held the same belief that the boy needed closure to the matter in his own peace of mind.  Paul was still worried, though, about Joe’s physical well-being. 

 

In addition to Joe having looked dreadfully tired over the last hour or so, he couldn’t help but take note of Joe’s slight winces of pain that were evidence on his face as the young man bent down to try and rub at the bandages around his injured ankle.  The doctor was pretty sure that the ankle had been causing him trouble throughout the whole day, but had only become to their attention because of Joe’s distraction because of the throbbing.

 

“Joe, I am getting really worried about you sitting here for so long.  You need to rest.  You need to have your injuries looked at.”

 

“I can’t rest until this is finished, Doc,” Joe said bluntly.

 

Doc Martin nodded his head in acknowledgement.  Joe was probably more right than he knew.  If they did break for him to rest, the boy probably wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway.  He had been plagued by nightmares and dreams since he had been found in the stream by his family.

 

“Half an hour, Joe and that’s it,” Doc Martin said coming up with a compromise that he thought was suitable to all.  He know turned and got Fred Harding’s attention and then proceeded to address the Judge as a doctor.

 

“Your Honour, although it is against my better judgment, I am going to allow this questioning to continue.  But only for a further 30 minutes.  Joe is dangerously close to causing more unnecessary damage to his injuries from lack of rest.  He is very tired, and I cannot allow this to go on for much longer as a doctor and a friend to him.  I am aware of Joe’s pleas to be allowed to go on and respect them, but only for a while longer.”

 

“Very well then, Doctor, in thirty minutes we will adjourn until tomorrow morning at your request,” the Judge replied.  “Are you sure you don’t want to break now, Joe?” he asked, as he turned to the boy and asked him directly what his wishes were.

 

“I can go on,” Joe said with determination in his voice.  It was a little hard to believe him, though, as the signs of fatigue and pain began to show on his young and handsome face.

 

“Mr Harding, you have a further half an hour to ask the rest of your questions for today.”

 

 

 

Fred nodded in agreement and was secretly relieved that this would soon come to an end for Joe.  He hoped he could get all of the questions out within this time, and Joe wouldn’t need to come back and go through any more tomorrow.

 

***********************************************************

 

Ben and Doc Martin reluctantly took their respective places back behind Fred Harding.  Both of them never took their eyes of Joe.   The young man’s posture gave away further his pain and feeling of fatigue.  His shoulders were slumped and hunched forward.  His head hung low as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up straight.

 

Little did either of them know that Joe’s head hung low for another reason entirely.  At the moment he was battling as hard as he could not to look in Butch Thomas’s direction.   The battle was getting harder and harder.

 

As hard as he tried, though, there was something about Thomas’s dark brooding eyes that drew his attention towards the man.  Joe turned his head and looked into those eyes.  He almost felt like Thomas was able to look into his soul.   He could feel any of the confidence and self-esteem that he had gained from his family’s presence and support being drained away by Thomas’s stare.

 

Butch Thomas kept his composure throughout.  He gave secret and sly smirks at the young man as he found that the young man unable to divert his eyes.  He knew that Joe feared him.  It was very evident on his face what he was feeling.   He was determined not to give his identity away and he was just as determined not to allow the boy to tell the court anything about what had happened back at the shack.   He was unaware that Joe had already spoken about his experiences.

 

Thomas looked about, making sure that nobody was taking particular notice of him or the fact that he held the young man’s attention.  He placed his right hand over his heart, making the shape of a pistol with his thumb and index finger to alert Joe to the fact that he had a concealed gun under his jacket.

 

The gesture wasn’t missed by Joe.  He could scarcely draw his eyes away from the fingers and the fact that they made the shape of a gun.  Joe had taken particular note that Thomas had dressed himself formally for the court in order to fool the rest of Virginia City about his true intentions of being there today.  Thomas would not have been allowed to enter the courtroom with a gun belt strapped to his waist. 

 

Joe didn’t think for one moment though that Thomas had come unarmed, either.  He had shown back at the shack and over the last two weeks that he was prepared to take almost any measure to stop Joe from telling anybody who was responsible for taking him from his family.

 

Joe fully realised what the gun gesture meant.   Thomas would be able to shoot anybody in this room if he so chose, even somebody from his family.

 

Joe felt the sweat start to bead on his forehead.  His heart was slamming against the wall of his chest, as he thought about the hidden gun.  The man’s menace knew no boundaries. 

 

Emotionally and mentally, Joe was at the end of his tether.  He wanted so much for his family and the other people in the courtroom to know that the man who had done these torturous deeds to him was sitting right now amongst them.  Joe was afraid, though, of what Thomas might do even in front of all these witnesses.   He knew that he couldn’t do this on his own anymore.

 

Little Joe told himself that somehow he had to tell one of his family of Thomas’s presence without saying the words or without giving undue attention to Thomas.  He looked back and forth between his family and Doc Martin, trying to size up who would note the subtle signals and understand their meaning.  This family member would need to keep that information to himself as well until Joe decided that it was the right moment to identify his kidnapper.

 

Joe now raised his head and looked intently at his older brother Adam.  He was sure that if Hoss knew about Thomas’s presence, he would be out to get retribution as soon as he knew.   His father would want to alert Roy Coffee to the man’s presence and in doing so he might put many people in the courtroom at risk of harm including his family.   He couldn’t afford to risk that.

 

Joe told himself that he needed someone level-headed and cool in a crisis situation.  Adam was the name that first came into his head.  Adam would be alarmed and possibly even concerned, but he wouldn’t fly off the handle like Hoss would be likely to do, and he would try and help Joe discreetly rather than alerting everyone to the situation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Adam didn’t miss the long stare that he was receiving from his young sibling.  He knew as their eyes locked that it wasn’t merely a look that asked for his support and understanding.  Joe was trying to tell him something.  Joe’s eyes had always been the most expressive part about him.  Joe had never been very good at hiding anything or keeping his feelings from his feelings from his family too long.  As soon as he tried, his eyes told them all they wanted to know.

 

Looking at Joe’s emerald green eyes now, Adam could see fear like no other.  Over the past few weeks he had known Joe to show this level of fear when he was talking about or remembering only one person.  As Adam looked at Joe with his own warm brown eyes, he realized Joe was trying to give him something about the person he feared, and then he suddenly understood that Mr. X must be nearby, even in this room.

 

Joe had held up particularly well over the last six hours or so whilst he gave his terrifying version of events back at the abandoned shack.   Joe had only just started to lose his composure to fear within the last twenty minutes or so.  

 

Joe almost cried out loud in relief when he recognized the message in his brother’s return gaze.  He knew that Adam now understood that his tormentor was in the room somewhere.  He couldn’t give away the man’s exact position without fear of putting himself, his family or everyone else at risk of Thomas’s fury.  He trusted that Adam would somehow alert his family about what was going on.

 

Adam adjusted his head slightly, barely noticeably to anybody else sitting nearby and whispered into his father’s ear what information he had learned from Joe.

 

Ben almost gasped out loud with the words he was hearing from Adam.  It took all of Ben’s willpower not to start scanning the people immediately behind him to see if he could recognize a stranger sitting amongst them.   He could scarcely believe that the man who had done such terrible things to his son was still brazen enough to turn up at the courtroom and terrify his son some more. 

 

Over the next few minutes Adam was able to discreetly alert his brother Hoss, Doc Martin and Fred Harding, with the help of his father, to the fact that Joe’s kidnapper was in the room somewhere.   Adam had taken a particular point of holding firmly onto Hoss’s arm out of sight as he told him.   Hoss’s brow quickly turned into a frown as he fought against the urge inside him to pull this animal out of his hiding place and make a public example out of him for Little Joe.

 

All of them knew the precarious situation that they were all in, especially Little Joe.  They all knew that he was expecting them all to keep his secret just that until the moment was a little better.  None of them were aware of the firearm that Thomas had concealed in his jacket.

 

Fred Harding took it upon himself to make sure that he could word his questions in such a manner as to draw the man out in the open and incriminate himself in the process.  Hopefully this would prevent the messy business of Joe having to point a finger at the man and thereby putting himself in danger from the man who still threatened him.

 

“Joe,” Fred began with a cough to hide his nervousness.  “A little over a week ago, your father tells me, you fainted in your bedroom.  Can you tell the courtroom a little more about what made you faint that day.  Was it because of the injuries you had received from your abductors?”

 

“No,” Joe said, as he saw Thomas shift around in his chair.   He knew that Thomas was becoming aware that he had told all to the court. 

 

“No?  Can you add a little more, please, Joe?”

 

“I fainted because of something that was placed in my bedroom by Mr X”.

 

“You mean that Mr X returned to your bedroom after you where brought home by your family?”

 

“Yes, he came back twice,” Joe said, keeping an uneasy eye on Thomas as he saw the man move again in his chair.  He could feel the man’s eyes burning into his skin as they got darker and darker with anger.  He started to tremble slightly at the thought of what the man was going to do.

 

Butch Thomas couldn’t do anything to avoid alerting anybody to his true identity.  Beside him, Henry Williams had looked at him anxiously a couple of times as Joe and the prosecutor spoke about this Mr X.   Thomas had to laugh a little at the boy’s tactics of dreaming up an imaginary name for him. 

 

The boy was ingenious, if nothing else.   If the boy wanted to play games, he was willing to play along for a time  He thought that he had made it abundantly clear that the boy was never to tell anybody about who he was or what had happened back at the shack.  Once the game was ended, he would make sure that the boy paid dearly for his indiscretion.

 

“He came back when he put me in the closet, but he came back before that,” Joe said, his voice almost a whisper again.

 

“How do you know it was Mr X that came back the first time, Joe?  It could have been somebody else that came into your house without you or your family knowing.”

 

“No, it had to be him because nobody else could have left the object that he left on my bedside table.  He knew how scared I would be when I saw it.  That’s why he left it there in the first place.”

 

“What was this special item that he placed there, Joe?  What did he leave that he knew would make you remember what had happened to you?”

 

“He left one of the bullets from his gun,” Joe replied and then looked back towards the ground again to try and hide the redness that was rising on his face.

 

Ben and his family still couldn’t believe the words that they were hearing from his son.  Joe had known all along that this Mr X had been in the house before the closet incident.  How was this boy able to keep such horrible secrets from the ones that loved him for so long?  They couldn’t help but feel hatred towards this man who had terrified Joe so much that he thought he needed to hide things from his family and not tell them when he was being threatened.

 

Fred looked at his watch and knew he had to keep going.  There wasn’t much of those thirty minutes left and any minute now Doc Martin was going to put an end to today’s proceedings.

 

“Yesterday, Joe, when you were in the courtroom, are you able to tell us what made you faint then?   Were you in too much pain from your injuries or was the questioning getting to be too much of a burden?”

 

“Neither.  I admit that my leg was hurting some before I asked for a break and went outside.  As for the questions, well, I was trying to avoid answering them as much as possible as I said this morning.”

 

“Well then what is your explanation?”

 

“Well, you see, when I got outside and started to head towards the outhouse, I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders from behind.  I was going to call out for somebody in here to help me, but the man put a hand over my mouth before I could scream and then dragged me into the alleyway so nobody would be able to see or hear what was going on.”

 

Joe could feel the redness starting to rise from the base of his neck again and travel upwards towards his head.  He could feel the beginning of a headache starting to surface.  

 

There were many whispers and shocks amongst the people in the courtroom about what had happened to Joe when he went outside the courtroom.  None of them ever imagined that the boy had been assaulted again.

 

Fred asked the question that everybody seemed to already know the answer to, “Can you tell us who this man was that grabbed you and tried to silence your calls for help?”

 

“At first I didn’t know who it was.  I was just scared and trying to get free.  Once he had dragged me far enough into the alleyway he turned me around to face me so I could see who he was.    It was Mr X”

 

A hush now fell over the crowded courtroom as Joe uttered who the assailant was.   The Judge was appalled and it clearly showed on his face.  He made a promise to himself, as a overseer of justice, and to the young man sitting beside him who had suffered and endured so much pain and torment.  Whoever this Mr X was, he would face the full wrath of the law when his identity became known.  

 

Doc Martin had a look on his face that said he now knew why Little Joe had faltered in his step when he came back into the room.  They had all been able to see the terror and fear in the young man’s eyes.  He had been trembling from fear and it all became too much for his mind and body to handle.  His body had already been under enough stress over the last few weeks and was only part way healed. 

 

Fred knew he really only had time for one or two more questions.  He was going to make damn sure that they counted for Little Joe.

 

“Joe, we have been referring all day to this man as Mr X.  The time has now come for you to tell us his true name. Do you know what his name is, Joe?”

 

“Yes,” Joe said in a barely audible whisper.  His gaze once again wandered to a few rows behind where his family were sitting.  He could see Thomas’s face, his eyes now dark as coal from the anger that was present.  Joe was under no false impressions.  He knew that if Thomas managed to get a hand on him now, he may very well kill him with his bare hands.

 

 

 

Joe’s mind once again travelled over all of the torture and pain he had been forced to endure during those days of captivity.   He remembered the anguished looks on the faces of his father and brothers every time he woke them with a nightmare when he had been brought home.  How often they had sat by his beside and lovingly nursed him back to health?  They had hoped that he would open up to them and tell them about what had happened to him.

 

It seemed that the last month or so was all a very bad theatrical performance by Joe.  His life had been one big puppet show with his strings being pulled by Thomas.  Thomas was the director, and Joe found himself doing just what he was told because of the fear that he felt towards this man and the threats that had been made to him over and over.

 

Joe told himself that it was time to break free of those restraints, no matter what the cost, and come out and tell the court who this man was.  He wanted to make sure that his man was put away so he could never do any harm to anybody else like he had done to him. 

 

With all the courage he could possibly muster, and that wasn’t very much at the moment, he looked directly and purposefully at Butch Thomas to utter his next words.  He wanted to see the man’s face when he revealed his identity.  He wanted Thomas to know what it was like to be afraid.  Afraid of what was going to happen to him, prison or maybe even death by hanging.  He deserved no less. 

 

“The man who did all of this to me is….Butch Thomas,” Joe said, the effort to get those two words out almost too much.   He would never have believed that it would be so hard to say somebody’s name.

 

Before anybody else had time to react to Joe’s words, though, Thomas jumped up out of his seat with a roar of pure hatred and primal rage.  “You little whelp.   I warned you what would happen if you told anybody about me,” Thomas spat.” 

 

Thomas now reached into his jacket and pulled out the small concealed pistol and aimed it directly at Joe.  Everything in the room seemed to happen in slow motion now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joe saw Thomas fire the gun.  He had tried to manoeuvre his body out of the way but was restricted to a slower pace due to his injured leg.  He was still trying to escape from the witness box when he felt a red hot searing pain in his side.  The pain that erupted in his chest took his breath away and all he could get out was a half-strangled cry as he felt himself topple sideways towards the floor.   He put his hand to his side where the pain felt the worst.  When he pulled his hand away, it was stained bright red with his blood.

 

Thomas fired the pistol at Joe just a fraction of a second before Hoss barrelled into the man with his full weight.   Hoss landed on top of the man and started punching him without mercy.  Now that he knew the identity of Joe’s kidnapper, he was about to extract some of his own for his little brother.

 

Hoss’s fists stopped, though, as he heard an anguished cry from his father.  He had almost forgotten about the gun being fired and now turned around to see what the stray bullet had struck.   He could scarcely hold back the tears from his eyes as he saw his father and older brother now kneeling beside the crumpled form of his little brother.

 

“JOSEPH!” Ben had cried as he saw a man behind him raise a small pistol and aim it directly at his young and vulnerable son.  He saw the boy gasp in pain and knew that the bullet had struck him somewhere.  He took a brief second to glance around and see Hoss grab hold of the man who had fired the gun while seated behind them and start punching into him.  He didn’t even give the man a second thought for the time being.

 

Ben and Doc Martin had reached the stricken youth at about the same time.  The courtroom was in chaos as people heard a gunshot and tried to flee out of the nearest exits. 

 

“Quickly, get some cloths or rags to try and stop this bleeding!” Doc Martin shouted to anybody that was nearby.   He was quickly handed some towels from somewhere, he didn’t stop to take the time to thank the person.

 

Doc Martin now used pressure together with the towel to try and slow the flow of blood pouring from Joe’s side that was torn open by the bullet.  The boy was still conscious, and this gave the doctor a little hope that the pain and the wound itself maybe weren’t as bad as they looked.

 

 

 

 

Joe grimaced in pain as the world around him began to become fuzzy and disorientated.  He didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to stay awake so he needed to say things now while there was still time. 

 

He couldn’t tell if the wound was fatal or not.  By the worried looks of the faces above and around him, he judged that it must be bad.

 

“Everything is going to be fine, son.  You just hold on now.   Doc Martin and I will take good care of you.  You just lay back and rest,” Ben now said soothingly to his son.  He was trying to keep the boy’s mind from drifting off and trying to distract him from the pain that was evident on his pale face.

 

Ben and the others turned around briefly as they heard a heated argument behind them. 

 

“Are you crazy?  What did you go and do that for?   You just couldn’t leave things alone, could you?  You thought you could play it out to the end all on your own.  Now you have gone and hung yourself because of your own greed and own self-glory.”   Everyone was shocked to hear these words coming from Henry Williams as he accused his partner in crime.  He had not been happy about going to the courtroom at all, but now, with the kid being shot in front of everyone, Williams knew that everything was going to come out in the open.

 

Roy Coffee now walked over towards Williams and gripped him by the upper arm “Now what would you know about all that has been going on here, Mr Williams?” he asked, already hearing Williams own confession of involvement.

 

Williams hung his head in shame as he knew that he was up to his neck in trouble for his association with Thomas.   At first he had gone along with the whole idea of kidnapping Joe for the lumber contract and ransom.  Then, as Thomas’s deeds had become much more than that Williams found his association a forced one, but nobody in this room was going to believe that.  He hadn’t wanted to see the boy hurt, but things had gone a little beyond that stage now with the boy now lying in a pool of his own blood.

 

“Adam, could you help me get this other scumbag over to the jailhouse?” Roy now asked.  He knew that Adam was concerned with the plight of his younger brother.   Looking over at the man Joe had identified as Butch Thomas, Roy knew that the man wouldn’t be coming to in a hurry. 

 

 

 

The man’s face was now a colourful shade of black and purple as a result of alternating left and right hand blows from Hoss.  Roy almost felt like taking a swing at the man himself, even if he was out cold.   By not doing so, he showed more compassion than Thomas had afforded Little Joe Cartwright all that time he was in captivity.

 

“Its alright, Adam, the blood has slowed a little.  I will get your father and Hoss here to help move Joe across to my office to see what further damage has been caused.  You can meet us over there after you finish helping Roy,” Doc Martin now said, as he saw the hesitation on Adam’s face.  The older Cartwright was being pulled between his love and concern for his seriously injured brother and the need to help Sheriff Coffee.

 

“Did you get him, Pa?” Joe now asked with his eyes closed.  He needed to know what had happened to Thomas.

 

“Your brother did, Joe.  Hoss really gave him a working over.  I don’t think he is going to be a threat to anyone anymore,” Ben said, as he answered his son’s question.  He could see that Joe needed that reassurance before he could start to try and relax or rest.

 

“Thanks, Hoss,” Joe mumbled. 

 

“You’re welcome, short shanks,” Hoss said, trying not to sound too upset as he neared his brother. 

 

“Pa,” Joe now said, as he forced his eyes open to just a crack.  He had a few more words to say to his father before he could let himself fall into the perpetual darkness that was tugging at the edges of his mind.

 

“Joe, you need to keep your strength.  You can say whatever you want once you are patched up.  Right now I want you to take it easy and let us take care of you for a while.”

 

“I need to tell you something first, Pa,” Joe said, his voice getting softer and softer as he spoke.

 

Ben found himself leaning over closer to his son just to hear what the boy was saying. “What is it that you wanted to tell me?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Joe said simply, the tears welling up in his eyes as he looked to his father for forgiveness.

 

“Sorry for what, Joe?” Ben replied as he fought against his own emotions and brushed the stray tears away from his son’s cheek.

 

“About all the things that I said back at the hotel the other afternoon.   I am sorry, Pa.  I didn’t mean what I said.  I was just scared about Thomas.  I was trying to push you, Adam and Hoss away when all you wanted to do was protect me.”

 

“None of that matters anymore, son, it was all forgotten about.  I know you didn’t mean the things you said.  I know how scared you have been, or I have tried to understand.  Until today, I don’t really think I did understand how scared you were.”

 

“And you know the part that hurts the most about all of this, Pa?” Joe said.  His words were beginning to become slurred and incoherent.  He was fighting against the pull of unconsciousness and knew that he didn’t have enough strength to hold out much longer.

 

“What’s that, Joe?” Ben said, as he softly caressed his son’s unruly curls.  He could see that Paul was handling the medical side of things so he just concerned himself with talking to his son and trying to keep him calm and relaxed as the doctor worked.

 

“This is what I get for telling the truth,” Joe said bitterly.  With the burden of Thomas now off his chest and the guilt about the harsh words he had shouted at his father now over with, he could no longer fight the fatigue and pain that were battering him all over.  He just wanted to curl up and forget about everything for a while. 

 

“I love you, Pa……,” Joe said in a thick voice as the room above him began to spin.

 

Joe’s eyes now started flickering closed and seemed to roll back into his head as the boy’s body became very limp.   His head lolled to one side and a soft puff of air escaped his lips in a sigh.

 

“Paul!” Ben yelled out in alarm.  He didn’t know if his son lived or not.  His heart was in his throat.  He couldn’t lose Joe now.  They had come so far now and it seemed unfair that his son’s young life should be cut short now when he had already been through so much.   Ben found himself scarcely able to breathe as he gazed down as his youngest son.

 

“He is still alive, Ben,” Paul assured his friend as he put two fingers to Joe’s neck and felt the pulse beating steadily within.  “The pulse is a little weak and racy, but it is there.  His body has just had enough.   He was already weak to begin with, and now there’s this added bullet wound.   Let’s get him over to my office now,” he said, as he gave Ben’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

 

“Ben, can you hold that towel against the wound and press it as hard as you can while Hoss and I carry him?  Hoss you take his feet, I will lift his shoulders.  Be careful of that leg, too, Hoss, I don’t want to cause more injury to it.”

 

Three men now very carefully and very slowly lifted Joe’s prone floor from the floor and started towards the front doorway of the courtroom.  Paul supported Joe’s shoulders and upper body as agreed whilst Hoss took the younger man’s legs and lower body. 

 

It was an agonising trip across the street to the Doc Martin’s office. The distance was only short, but with every step, no matter how careful they were, Joe would emit a loan moan in the back of his throat from the pain he was feeling as they moved.

 

Once they got to Paul’s office, Hoss was asked to wait outside while the doctor and his Pa worked on Joe.   Hoss spent an hour pacing up and down the floor of the doctor’s waiting room before Adam walked in.

 

“How is he?” Adam asked before he even closed the door.

 

“I don’t know dadburnit,’ Adam.  They have been in there for ages.  I have not heard anything from Paul or the Doc about how Little Joe is.  Its just about driving me crazy, waiting.”

 

“I am sure they are doing the best they can, Hoss,” Adam said, as he gave his younger brother a comforting slap on the back.

 

“How did you go, anyway?” Hoss now asked, as he remembered that Adam had been given the inevitable task of taking Butch Thomas back to the jailhouse.   Henry Williams had gone along with the Sheriff with very little protest.

 

“Alright, I guess.  He was still out when I dumped him in the cell.  But Lord knows he is probably doing a lot better right now than Joe is,” Adam said, as he felt the anger start to burn within him again.   It had taken all of his strength and willpower not to extract some vengeance of his own for Joe when he saw Thomas lying in the cell.

 

The conversation between Hoss and Adam was interrupted by Paul as he opened the door to the surgery and walked out with Ben not too far behind him.    Hoss paled a little as he saw the front of the doctor’s surgical gown covered in blood.  He couldn’t help but know that the blood staining the doctor’s garment was flowing in his little brother not so long ago.

 

“He’s a tough one, that’s for sure,” Paul said, trying to relieve the tension in the room before giving his diagnosis of Joe’s condition.  “Your brother is going to be fine, after a lot of rest and recovery.   The bullet nicked his side, but thankfully there was not a lot of blood loss, as you saw.  Joe is very weak.  He will be barely able to lift his head off the pillow for the next two days until his body replenishes the blood that he lost.  His leg didn’t suffer any further damage and is looking very pleasing at the moment.  If he didn’t have this other problem from the shooting I’d say he might be able to stand on his leg again within about three weeks.”

 

Adam and Hoss couldn’t help but slap each other on the back in relief.   They looked towards their father and saw only relief on Ben’s tired face as well.  

 

“When will we be able to take him home, Doc?” Hoss asked a little prematurely, but it was hard for him to hide his excitement to the news that he just heard that Joe was going to be alright.  The man who had caused his brother such pain and suffering was now securely locked up in the jailhouse along with the other man involved.  There truly was a lot to celebrate at the moment and be thankful for.

 

“Now just hold your horses a bit there, Hoss,” Paul said in mock sternness.  “I said he was going to be alright, but we still need to keep a good eye on that boy for the next week or so.  I want to make sure that there are no signs of infection or any other complications from the bullet wound.   He is going to need constant rest over the next two weeks and lots of good food to help him regain his strength.”

 

“I don’t want to go against your diagnosis, Doctor, but seeing the torment that Joe has been put through over the last two days and few weeks before that, I thought it would be best if he could be brought home to recover in his own familiar surroundings as soon as he is able to travel safely,” Adam now suggested.

 

“I understand what you are saying, Adam, and to tell you the truth, I am not totally against the idea,” Paul said to everyone’s amazement.  Even Ben had a slightly shocked expression on his face at the doctor’s agreement to Joe’s recovery taking place back at the Ponderosa as soon as possible.  “And I will tell you why.   At the moment his biggest battle is the physical injuries again.  Until that bullet wound starts to heal on its own and he starts to get his strength back, his health and physical well-being are the only things we need to concern ourselves with at the moment.”

 

 

 

“However, once those physical injuries start to heal and he starts to be up and about again and allowed to go back to a normal routine, there is no doubt that the biggest hurdle he will have to face is himself again.   There will that fear of Thomas still for some time to come, and the nightmares at night may continue for an extended length of time.   Joe is going to need the support of his family and friends,” Paul explained.

 

“How long do you expect that fear to still exist Paul, now that Joe knows Thomas is behind bars?” Adam asked.

 

“Its very hard to tell.  Just because Joe knows about Thomas not being able to get anywhere near him, that is no reason to suspect that Joe’s fear of the man will lessen to any great degree.  Time is the only solution to Joe’s fear of his attacker and the acceptance of what has happened to him – time and that his family is there to prevent it happening again.  Time for the wounds, both physical and mental to heal.   Both he and you all will need to take things one day at a time for a while until things start to improve for him.”

 

“Ben, I am going to clean Joe up and get him settled into a proper bed for the night.  I will keep a close eye on him for the rest of the night.  If, by morning, there seems to be no sign of a fever or any other problems, I will probably give him a strong dose of painkillers and allow you to take him home in a padded wagon.   I suggest for tonight that you and your sons get some rest because Joe is probably going to keep you awake for much of tomorrow with his on-going care.   You are welcome to use the other beds I have so you can still be close to Joe.   I promise to wake you if there is any change in Joe’s condition at all during the night,” Paul explained.

 

“But I want to -- ” Ben started to say before the Doctor cut him off again.

 

“No, Ben Cartwright.  I can see by your face that you are ready to collapse yourself.  I want Adam and Hoss there to make sure that you eat a decent meal, have a hot bath and then maybe after all of that you can come and say goodnight to Joe before you get a good night’s sleep,” Paul said admonishingly to his old friend.    He knew that Ben would want to stay with Joe as long as needed, but Joe’s care was going to be a slow process over the next couple of weeks, and he needed to make sure that Ben and his boys were taking good care of themselves as well as of Joseph.

 

 

 

 

Ben smiled sheepishly at the doctor’s advice and nodded his head in agreement of a hot meal and bath before returning to Joe.  He did, however, intend to stay with Joe for the night, no matter how hard the Doctor tried to shift him.  “Alright, Paul, something to eat and a bath.”

 

Paul was a little surprised that Ben had given in so easily to his demands, but his friend really did look tired from all of the stress and pressure he had been under.  There was just no telling Ben that he couldn’t worry when it came to his youngest son.

 

“Don’t worry, Doc, we will make sure he does what he is told,” Hoss said, as he and Adam both flanked their father as he prepared to head back to the hotel.

 

“Don’t forget yourselves, too,” Paul said and gently closed the door behind them.

 

The doctor then returned to his surgery and found his young patient in the same position as before thanks mainly to the dose of laudanum he had been given shortly after being placed on the operating table.

 

“You have a very worried family there, young man.  I hope you have enough sense about you when you start to heal to accept their help graciously.   Lord knows you have taken ten years off my life,” Paul said to a still sleeping Joe as he brushed back a stray lock of hair as Ben would have done if he were there.   

 

By the time Ben and his boys returned to see Joe, the doctor had cleaned him up after surgery and was just about to move him to the bed.  He accepted Adam’s help to move the sleeping youth.  Hoss did what he could and pulled back the covers as Adam and Paul gently lowered Joe onto the clean sheets.

 

Joe never looked like stirring under their administrations and Paul told them this was to due to the dose of laudanum that he had given before the surgery.  He expected that Joe would sleep through the night until the next morning without much difficulty.  At the moment the wound was still sealed and the stitches were holding nicely together.  Paul had been satisfied as he had checked the bandages again for signs of fresh bleeding after Joe was placed in the bed.

 

***********************************************************

 

 

 

Much to Paul’s dismay, Ben had fallen asleep awkwardly in the chair beside his son.  He didn’t have the heart to wake Ben and move him into a bed.  He just hoped that his friend would get as much rest as his son tonight.  They both needed it desperately.

 

At about 3.00 am that night, Ben was woken suddenly by a sound.  It wasn’t until he sat up in the chair and tried to rub some of the stiffness out of his neck that he saw that the noise had come from his son.   Joe’s eyes were still closed, but his sleep was far from peaceful.  The young man was moving about on the bed, and Ben was worried that his son would undo all of the doctor’s good work.

 

Paul was soon at Joe’s side, checking the young man over.   There was a slight fever present, not much to be too concerned about.  Joe seemed to settle back to sleep a little easier as a soft dampened cloth was laid across his forehead.   He mumbled something incoherently and then his movements became less and less until there were none at all.  

 

Paul and Ben looked at each other silently but knew that Joe’s restless sleep was not entirely from his injury.  Joe still found himself locked within nightmares where he was once again back in Thomas’s clutches and there was nobody around to help him.  This time he hadn’t woken up screaming like other nights, but they had to keep an eye on him and make sure that he didn’t move around too much to cause any damage to the stitches in his side.

 

At 7.00 am the next morning when Adam and Hoss came into the room where Joe was sleeping, they found their brother still sleeping.  Ben had told them about the nightmare during the night.  

 

“Hoss, you and Adam go down to the livery stable and organise a wagon from Charlie.  Try and find as many blankets and pillows as you can as well, and we will start getting things ready to take your brother home this morning.”

 

Joe’s brothers were only too happy to do their father’s bidding.  Both of them knew the best place for Joe to recover was at home on the ranch.

 

Joe had awoken briefly after they had left.  Not for long, though   He was very unfocused and didn’t understand where he was.  He could feel the pain in his side and gasped out loud as he tried to breathe in and out.  The doctor warned him that he had to take slow, deep breaths and let them out slowly in order for the pain to become more bearable.  Joe accepted some water from a glass as it was held to his lips and even swallowed a few spoonfuls of very thin broth as it was offered to him.

 

Within minutes of waking, though, the young man was tiring again and he could scarcely keep his eyes open.

 

“Its going to be alright, Joe,” Ben said, as he caressed the boy’s forehead and watched the boy’s eyes slid closed again in slumber.

 

“Once you get him home, Ben, you will need to try and get some food into him when you can.  Just thin broth to begin with, but a least three times a day.  You may have to wake him up to do it, but without regular food he won’t get any of his strength back.  After the second day you may find he will be awake a little more and you can try something a little solider.  Make sure you keep the fluids up to him to make up for the blood that he lost.”

 

“I will give you some laudanum.  Make sure you use it sparingly, though.   I think he will be tired enough to rest on his own but he may be in some considerable pain for a few days because of the wound where the bullet struck.  I will be out every day to check on him until I think the visits can be further apart.  If there is anything you need, just let me know.  If there is any change in his condition or he develops a fever, come for me straight away,” Paul instructed Ben.

 

Adam and Hoss now returned and informed them that the wagon was all prepared and ready for its passenger.

 

“Make sure that wagon goes as slow as possible over that road, Hoss,” Paul warned them.  “Any unnecessary jarring from some of those ruts may cause the stitches to break or the wound to open up and bleed.  Make sure you check the bandages once he is home, Ben, for any sign of bleeding.”

 

Ben assured Paul that he and the boys would take every precaution for Joe’s sake.  He knew that Paul considered Joe like a son to him.   “See you tomorrow, Paul,” he said, as they left.

 

Adam and Hoss carried their precious burden as carefully as they could down the stairs from the doctor’s surgery and out into the waiting wagon.  Once they placed the still sleeping Joe on the mattresses and blankets, Ben was immediately beside him, covering his son with further blankets to stop the boy becoming chilled from the trip home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As the wagon bumped along the road back towards the Ponderosa, Ben Cartwright looked down at his sixteen-year-old son, who was laying down beside him in a deep sleep. The sleep was not a natural one, however. It came as the result of the drug combination that Doc Martin had administered only a few hours ago. It was supposed to help Joe not feel any physical pain from the injuries he had sustained.

But what about the emotional and mental scars that had been left behind? What about them, Ben asked himself.  How long would they take to heal? Would they ever heal? Would his young son ever recover from the torment that he had suffered at the hands of Butch Thomas over the last month?

If he could turn back the hands of time over the last few weeks and foresee what would befall his youngest son, Ben would have taken the boy out of harms way. He would have simply packed up Joseph and one of his other sons, Adam or Hoss, if necessary, and made sure that Joe was safe in another town away from the dangers that lurked.

Ben caressed the boy's soft curls, but his son didn't respond to his touch. It was like a brick wall had been built between them, and it was getting harder and harder to reach in and find the real Little Joe.

The boy had changed so much over the past few weeks. He had been a confident young man full of energy and laughter who filled the house with love and joy.  Now the boy was sullen and withdrawn and spoke rarely unless asked a question, and even then it was a battle to get some sort of answer.

Ben swore to himself that he didn't care how long it took, but he and his eldest two sons would be there every minute of the day and night, if necessary, to bring the boy back from the brink and back into the safe and loving arms of his family.

"He alright back there, Pa?" Hoss asked, as he guided the wagon team as slowly as he could over the rough dirt road back to the Ponderosa.

"As well as can be expected I guess, Hoss," Ben replied in a voice that held no emotion at all.  "We will just have to see how he goes over the next couple of days. It is going to be a difficult time for us all."

 

 

 

 

Hoss nodded and turned his attention back to the wagon team. As they pulled up outside the ranch house, Adam came outside, followed by Hop Sing. Adam had ridden on ahead of the rest of his family to make sure that everything would be ready in time when Hoss and his father arrived back with Little Joe.

Adam looked at his father before attempting to take his younger brother out of the wagon.   He hadn't heard the tone of Ben's voice just a few hundred metres back, but he saw the tiredness etched on his father's face and the worry embedded deep into his father's brown eyes.  His father looked almost a broken man. The thing that allowed the man to go on lay beside him wrapped up in the blankets. Adam didn't want to contemplate how his father would have gone on if Joe had not come back home. He couldn't put into words himself how he would have felt.

 

One sixteen-year-old boy held the magical golden key to all their hearts and kept them all united.  Now, when this same boy had fallen along the way and looked to be heading away from his family, it was up to that family to make sure that the boy knew they all loved and needed him endlessly.

The dark thunderclouds above once again threatened to bring down the heavens in torrential rain. They needed to get the boy inside and into his bed before the rain started. The last thing he needed with all his injuries at the moment was to get sick. Hoss thought back a moment and thought that it had been raining a few days before this all started to happen as well. ‘Funny how history had a way of playing on your memory, wasn't it,’ he thought to himself.

"Take it easy, Adam," Ben said, knowing that his eldest son was already aware of Joe's injuries.   "We have to check that those stitches in his side are still in place when we get him settled upstairs. Heaven knew what that rough road had done to exasperate the pain and agony his son felt.

Ben managed to move the still sleeping Joe into a half-sitting position so that Adam could wrap his strong arms around the fragile boy and lift him out of the wagon. Ben could feel a little warmth emanating through the cotton shirt that Joe wore over the top of the heavy padding and bandages around his chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few spits of rain began to fall just as Adam made it to the porch with Joe nestled in his strong arms. The boy had lost so much weight from injury and stress over the last few weeks that he barely weighed anything, his brother noted with dismay. Ben picked up the tails of the blankets from behind Adam and followed his eldest son, as he carried Joe into the homestead.

Adam had made sure that Joe's room was already warm enough before the wagon had pulled up outside. He walked into the house and climbed the staircase carrying his precious burden that failed to make a single sound.

Adam laid his unconscious brother on the clean sheets, and made sure that he was resting comfortably on the pillows while his father started to take off his shoes and socks.

Hoss had volunteered to put the horses and the wagon away, but both Adam and Ben knew that it was eating the middle Cartwright up inside to see his younger brother like this. It went against the very grain of things in Hoss's eyes that this had happened to his brother. He hated the men who had done this to Joe. He hated the Judge who had put the boy through so much humiliation in front of everyone. He hated the justice system that put it’s sole trust in the opinions of a few witnesses.  He hated himself for being so angry.

Inside, Joe had not awoken as such, but he seemed to be having a battle against unseen demons again. The demons had probably been created from the memories of the real monsters that had stalked him and then caused him so much hurt and pain. Suffering and fear that he had hidden from his family. A deep gnawing fear that bit into the boy’s very soul and stole his spirit with it.

Ben sat on the edge of the bed, forgetting all about undressing the boy. For now, the only real important thing was to let the boy know that his family was right here with him and that he was loved.

Ben spoke softly to the boy, reminding him of how much his family had missed him and how proud they had been of him over the last few days. While Ben talked, Adam went about finishing the task of undressing the boy from his good clothes that he had worn to court. The jacket had been left back at Doc Martin's due to the damage caused to it. Ben had declared the garment beyond repair or salvage and could no longer bear to look upon it and see it stained with his youngest son's blood.

 

 

Adam unbuttoned Joe's trousers once the boots were removed, and had to keep his own anger in check as he saw the bruises and scratches that marred the boy's pale flesh. The trousers had been a little stubborn at first due to the thick bandages still adorning the boy's left shin.  The bandages would remain on for at least another month or two, Doc Martin informed them, before it could be removed and Joe be allowed to put full weight back on that leg.

Hoss had returned to the house, and now came into the bedroom, carrying the other reminders of Joe's injuries. He propped the two wooden crutches up against the wall in the far corner of the room. It was doubtful that the boy would be leaving his bed anytime soon in the next few days.

The crutches told the story that Joe needed more than his family's love and caring at the moment just to stand. The boy had stumbled a number of times while trying to manoeuvre back and forth from the witness stand. To Hoss and the rest of the family they only seemed to confirm their fears about how badly Little Joe had been hurt.

Joe was sleeping soundly upstairs and was probably due to stay that way for several more hours to come. After Adam had managed to get one of Ben's shirts over the boy's head and bandages, they tucked the blankets in around the boy. Adam and Hoss had bid their younger brother good-night and left their father to a more private time alone with his son.

Ben had continued to talk soothing words to his son as he slept. He caressed his face, then bent down and gently kissed the boy on his bruised cheek before leaving the room.

About an hour after the Cartwright’s had returned home the three eldest of them now sat downstairs in the living room. All three were lost in their own thoughts about the events that had taken place over the last month.

Ben's mind started to take him back to a time about a month ago when everything seemed to be going fine. If only he could go back there now.

By the time Ben had drained the last of the whiskey from his glass, the fire was nothing but glowing embers as he stared into them.

 

Over the next two days the routine was very much the same.  The day after the shooting saw Joe do nothing but sleep due to his injuries. 

 

One the morning of the second day Ben had been totally surprised to see his son awake when he entered the room with a tray of breakfast.  He smiled at his son and set the tray on the bedside table before sitting beside him on the bed.

 

“How are you feeling this morning, Joseph?” Ben asked, not wanting to ask a barrage of questions about what had happened at the trial.   They could talk more about what had happened at the trial when Joe felt he was able to.

 

“Fine,” came the reply from Joe.  The voice was thick, and Joe’s face was still paler than Ben would have liked to see.

 

Ben pondered what question to ask to keep the conversation going when Joe asked a question of his own.

 

“When will it stop, Pa?”

 

“What stop, Joseph?”

 

“When do I get to feel safe again?   Even now, with Thomas away in prison, I don’t feel safe.   I can’t help but wonder if he is going to be released some day only to come back and torment me again.   I close my eyes to sleep and all I see is a picture of his face in my head and then his fist as it swings to hit me again,” Joe said.  His voice betrayed him as the tears started to fall down his face.

 

Ben put his arms around his son and held him close as the boy sobbed into the front of his shirt.  The boy was hurting so much.   It wasn’t fair. 

 

“Look at me, Joseph,” Ben now said gently as he waited for Joe to turn his face towards him.   As Joe did so, he wiped away the tear stains from his cheeks.  “I cannot tell you when the memories will stop, son.  I would give anything I owned for you to have one night of peaceful sleep, free of nightmares.   I would do anything if I could just trade that time you were with that man and have you back home safe with me.”

 

“All I can tell you, Joe, is that I love you more than anything else in this world, and I would do anything to protect you.   I can’t tell you enough how it breaks my heart to see you so upset or the bruises on your body and the fear in your eyes when somebody walks into the room.”

 

“I hope that as the days go by, you can come to believe in me again and know that your brothers and I will always be here for you when you need us.  Your brothers are just as determined as I am to show you how much they care about you.”

 

“I just want it all to end, Pa,” Joe said simply and curled up against his father’s chest, letting the man’s warmth and security surround him.   It was the first time in weeks that he felt truly safe. 

 

After a while Ben could hear his son’s even and slow breathing that indicated Joe had fallen asleep again.   He gently moved his son and laid him back down on the bed, covering him with the quilts again.

 

On the third day, as Paul arrived for his daily visit, Ben was surprised to see Fred Harding sitting in the buggy beside him. Fred spoke to Ben while Paul examined Joe up in his room.

 

Fred informed Ben that Thomas was already on his way to the State Prison by prison wagon.  Once he got back to San Francisco, he would make sure that Butch Thomas was sentenced to a long jail term for his deeds.  Williams would also do some time in prison, but his charges weren’t as serious as his partner’s. 

 

Williams would be able to successfully argue that although he knew about the kidnap plot and even footed the bill for such a crime, he had not laid a hand on the boy and had not been responsible for any of the injuries the boy sustained.   He would also be able to defend himself when it came to the two occasions on which Butch Thomas had tormented the boy on the Ponderosa.

 

“Do you think I could say goodbye to the boy, Ben?” Fred asked.  The boy had come to mean something to him even though they had only met a few days ago.

 

“Sure, come on up.   He was still feeling very depressed this morning, but hopefully now he may be in a slightly better frame of mind,” Ben said, as he led Fred up the staircase towards Joe’s bedroom.

 

Ben was relieved to see Joe awake and talking to Adam and Hoss when they came into the room.

 

“Well, its good to see you awake, son,” Ben said.

 

“We were just keeping him company, Pa, while the Doc checked him over.  He’s a stubborn little cuss.  Won’t barely keep still for a second for Paul to look at him properly.  I told him I was going to sit on him if he didn’t stop squirming about,” Hoss said, as laughter shone through his blue eyes.

 

“Is this true, Joseph?” Ben asked in mock sternness as he stood in a demanding stance with hands on his hips.

 

 

 

 

Joe looked at his father and then at the lawyer that was in the room.  He had so much to say to the man who had helped him through the trial.  But he didn’t think that right now, in front of all of these people, was the right moment.  He would write a letter just like his father wanted and express in words his gratitude and thanks.

 

Joe saw the lawyer there and couldn’t help but ask him about the secret plan they both worked out together.   “Mr Harding, you know those two horses are probably still waiting for us in the livery stable back in Virginia City if we wanted to make that escape.  I just need you to give me a hand getting out of this bed, and we can be on our way,” Joe said jokingly.

 

“Joseph Cartwright, you will not move on inch out of that bed or so help me…” Paul Martin started to say as he pointed a threatening finger at this most reluctant of patient’s.

 

“Oh don’t worry Paul.  I have something to say about this,” Ben said to his friend and then turned to address his son “Joseph, believe me, it is going to be a long time before you are allowed off this ranch again without me or your brothers present.   Do I make myself clear young man?  I will tell you what I told your partner in crime here,” Ben said, as he indicated Fred Harding   “You and he are restricted to the ranch until further notice.   There will a list of chores posted on the barn door for you and him to complete as part of your punishment.”

 

Everyone in the room laughed heartily at Ben’s words and the looks on Joe’s and Fred’s faces.   Joe had to stop laughing, though, as his side began to ache.

 

“Boy, Mr Harding.  How does it feel to be one of the highest paid lawyers in the state, but grounded by my Pa?” he said and laughed again whilst holding onto his side.

 

Joe’s family watched him intently as he joined in the laughter in the room.  It was the first real laughter they had heard coming from the boy for a very long time.  It was a very good sound to hear.  They hoped that this was the first turning step in a whole new direction for Joe.  Hopefully, if he could find laughter in himself, he could begin the healing process and eventually push the dark memories to the back of his mind.  They probably would never be gone completely, but hopefully they could be suppressed by happier memories.

 

 

 

EPILOGUE:

 

Over the next few weeks, Joe’s injuries began to heal as well as his mind.   There were nights where the nightmares would become real again and Joe found himself being surrounded by his family’s love in order to drive them away again.

 

As he was given more freedom to move about the house and then the ranch, his family could almost see the real Joe resurfacing again.  Everybody was able to relax a little more, and meal times were shared when them talking to each other again.   The Cartwright household was almost back to normal.

 

It was only on odd occasions when Joe would be laughing, but then fall into a deep silence as he stared out in front of him with a look that Ben knew his son still remembered.   Joe’s eyes would grow darker in thought and a shadow would cross his face as something triggered his memory.  Just as quickly as it had come, though, the mood would pass and his family would never suspect that anything had happened at all.

 

About a month after he had been allowed to return to light duties, Joe was in Virginia City, collecting the mail as part of his restricted duties for his father.

 

As he ambled back into the wagon loaded with supplies and took a look at the five envelopes in his hand, his curiosity was alerted when one of the letters held his name on the front.   He didn’t remember writing to anybody lately except Fred Harding, and he had already received a reply to that letter weeks ago.

 

Joe put the letters aside for the time being and drove the wagon and team home as instructed, knowing that his father would only worry if he were late.   About halfway home, though, the curiosity become just too great, and he pulled the team off to the side of the road and reached for the handwritten envelope.

 

He turned it over in his hand a couple of times before opening it, trying to judge from the outside who it was from.   There was no postmark on it to say where it was from and no return address on the back of the envelope.  Without giving it another thought, he slid his finger under the envelope flap and tore the top open.   There was a single-paged letter inside.

 

 

 

As his eyes scanned the words, his hand flew to his mouth to stop the gasp that was on the tip of his tongue. He read the words again, scarcely able to believe what they said:

 

SOMEDAY I WILL COME BACK.   YOU AND I WILL MEET AGAIN – I PROMISE

 

BUTCH THOMAS

 

 

Joe refolded the piece of paper and placed it back into the envelope and then tore both the envelope and letter into small pieces, scattering them in the wind as he went.  He knew he couldn’t let his family see such a note.

 

Just as he was about to start the wagon team again, a cool gust of wind blew against the nape of his neck.  He pulled his jacket close around him and looked behind him…  He shivered slightly and then gave the reins a sharp snap to start the team towards home.

 

 

THE END

 

FROM THE AUTHOR – I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS STORY – I REALLY LIKED WRITING IT.   THANKS TO ALL OF THE PEOPLE OUT THERE FOR THEIR KIND-HEARTED WORDS.  AND THANKS TO THOSE WHO ALLOWED ME TO USE THEIR IDEAS, THOUGHTS OR CHARACTERS IN MY STORY.

 

Special thanks to Satu for being such a pal.

 

JULES

 

 

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