rona027

The Stuff of Nightmares

Written by: Rona Y.

Panting, exhausted, the young man wiped the sweat from his brow with an already sodden sleeve. He ran on, too terrified to stop. His world had turned upside down, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. In the darkness of the trees, he tripped over an unseen root and crashed to the ground. Panic forced him to his feet, although he was so winded he could barely drag enough oxygen into his air-starved lungs. He threw a glance over his shoulder, looking for his pursuers, and ran headlong into one of them.

Crashing to the ground one more, Joe looked up at the dim figure standing above him. There was no mistaking who it was, even in the poor light. It was his brother Adam. Fear coursed through Joe, and he began to scrabble backwards, trying to get away. It was hopeless, he knew, but he had to try. Effortlessly, Adam reached down and grabbed Joe’s collar and yanked the younger man to his feet.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, coldly.

               **********

“Don’t shout at me!” Adam bellowed at Joe.

“You started it!” Joe shouted back. “If you’d listened to me, instead of going off at the deep end again, we wouldn’t be having this argument!” The brothers glared at each other, standing practically nose-to-nose in the barn doorway. “The job was done long ago, as I tried to tell you before you started yelling!”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Adam asked, venomously. “Well, you’re not! If I didn’t have to keep checking on your work, this would never have happened.”

“Oh give it a rest, brother,” Joe shot back. “Nobody ever asked you to check on my work! You just can’t accept that I’m a man grown, capable of dealing with the work I do, can you? You’d far rather I was still stupid Little Joe, who you could boss about.” Joe shook his chestnut curls. “Well, I’m not, and I haven’t been for a long time. Accept it, brother! I’m an adult, whether you like it or not!” He turned on his heel and stalked towards the house.

Equally angry, and embarrassed, too, Adam reached out and caught Joe’s arm. “Don’t walk away from me!” he warned. “I’m not finished with you yet!”

“You might not be finished, but I sure am!” retorted Joe, and yanked his arm free of his brother’s bruising grasp.

It was the last straw, and Adam swung at Joe. The blow caught the younger man by surprise, and he tumbled to the ground. But he didn’t stay there. His temper really up, Joe launched himself at Adam’s legs while still only half way to his feet, and knocked Adam on his rump with a satisfying thud. They rolled over and over, pummelling each other with a verve unbecoming to brothers who were normally so close.

There was no telling where the fight might have ended had their father not ridden into the yard. With an exclamation of horror and anger, he jumped down from his horse and separated the two men. It took him several moments to get them to stop, and when he did finally have them parted, he stood looking in disgust and anger at them both.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he asked, ominously.

Neither said a word. Adam continued to glare, tight-lipped, at Joe, who hung his head, a sure sign that he was distressed and guilty. Ben, with a hand still on each son’s arm, gave them both a shake. “Answer me!” he demanded. “Adam?”

“We had an argument,” Adam said, sullenly.

“An argument?” Joe cried, his head coming up. “He yelled at me for not going out after the strays. I tried to tell him that I’d been out already, and he began yelling at me for being irresponsible! So I yelled back, and then, when I tried to leave, he hit me!”

“Is this true?” Ben asked, looking at Adam.

“Yes, its true,” Adam said, shortly. He was still glaring at Joe, oblivious to the damage he’d caused his younger brother. Joe’s eye was swelling, and there was a bad cut over it. Blood was trickling down his face. Adam wasn’t unmarked either. He had a livid scratch running down one cheek, and his bottom lip was split and bleeding.

“Get inside, both of you, and get cleaned up,” Ben ordered, his disgust apparent. “I want to talk to you both!”

Silently, and ignoring each other, Joe and Adam went across to the house and went inside. Ben watched them go, a frown on his face. Adam and Joe had always fought, or so it seemed. Reflecting on it as he put his horse away, Ben realised that the bickering had started as Joe reached adulthood. Adam had seemed to find it difficult to allow Joe to grow up. As a parent, Ben fully understood his oldest son’s difficulties in that area, but he had managed to let go of the boys as they became men, and Adam would have to do the same. It seemed to Ben that the more maturity Joe gained, the more Adam treated him like a child. Joe had recently had a major disappointment in his love life, and it almost seemed to Ben that Adam was gloating about it. Sighing, he shook his head, and went to the house.

Neither son was in the great room, but Ben waited patiently, and after a short time, they both appeared. They had changed their ripped clothing, and had washed the blood from their faces. But there was no doubt that they had been fighting. The cut above Joe’s eye still bled sluggishly.

“I’m sorry we were fighting, Pa,” Joe said, contritely, and Ben was sure he was sorry. That was Joe’s way – lose his temper, have a major fit, and then apologise. He generally meant it, too, Ben reflected. Joe rarely offered an apology he didn’t mean. He watched as Joe turned to Adam. “I’m sorry, Adam. I shouldn’t have gone off like that, and I shouldn’t have hit you.” Joe was sorry. He hated to be at odds with his family.

Expectantly, Ben turned to Adam, waiting for his eldest’s cool, calm, rational apology. It didn’t come. “Sorry,” he said, shortly, and it was plain to all that he didn’t mean it. As Ben gaped in disbelief at Adam, he saw Joe taking a hold on his temper.

“Adam?” he said, anger still in his voice.

“I said sorry, what more do you want?” Adam demanded, his anger still apparent in his voice.

“You obviously aren’t sorry,” Ben said. “What is going on here?”

For a long moment, Adam glared darkly at Ben. Joe stood smouldering by his father’s side. “I guess I’m not sorry,” Adam grunted. “I’ll be in my room.” He stalked off upstairs and a moment later, the door slammed. Joe looked at Ben, and wisely decided not to say anything. He sat down on the settee, and gingerly felt his face.

Completely floored by Adam’s uncharacteristic anger, Ben didn’t know what to do. He finally decided to let Adam work it out for himself, and looked back at Joe. Joe now had his head back against the settee, and had his eyes closed. A smear of blood showed where he had tried to wipe it away. Ben, looking at the cut, decided that one son, at least, deserved a little TLC. He went to get some water and a bandage.

               **********

Supper was eaten in a stony silence. Joe’s eye was dark with bruising, emphasised all the more by the white bandage Ben had placed over the cut. Adam’s cheek still showed the scratch, although its path was marked now by the bruising that had come out around it. His split lip was obviously bothering him as he ate. Hoss eyed both brothers, but wisely decided to keep out of it. He put away the usual piles of food, while Adam ate stolidly, and Joe picked at his meal. Ben glowered darkly throughout.

After supper was over, they gathered in front of the fire as usual, with Hoss setting out the checkers board as a matter of course. Joe perched himself on the edge of the table – his favourite spot – and they began to play. Adam sat in the blue velvet chair and gazed broodingly into the fire. Ben picked up the paper and read it with intense concentration.

However much they tried to act as though this was a normal evening, the atmosphere was laden with bad feeling. Joe was the first to disappear to bed. His puzzled looks at his oldest brother clearly told everyone that he didn’t understand why Adam was still so angry. Discord amongst the family always hit Joe the hardest.

Next to go was Hoss. He decided to give Adam and Ben the chance to talk alone, and perhaps this whole nasty scene would be forgotten by morning. However, Hoss wasn’t well away before Adam bid his father a short goodnight and headed upstairs with great speed.

Left alone, Ben put down the paper and brooded in peace. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take, and he wondered what to do about it. Finally, he decided that it might be best to separate them. With a decision finally taken, he rose, and went wearily to bed.

The next morning, Ben collared Adam and Joe before they had the chance to leave the house. “I want to talk to you two,” he said, and appointed to the fireplace. Obediently, the brothers went and stood where they had been told. Joe was still throwing Adam pleading looks, which the older Cartwright seemed oblivious to.

“I’ve had enough of you two,” Ben started. “It’s about time you made an effort to get along. Adam, that means that you accept the fact that Joe is an adult, and can do his work without any of us looking over his shoulder all the time. Joe, you have to accept that its difficult to always remember that you are a grown up. Meantime, until you’ve got over your fit of anger, you can both go ride fence – alone – and when you come back, I expect that you’ll be able to treat each other like human beings and brothers. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused. Joe’s head was down again, and it was clear that he felt very bad about the fight. Adam stood with his head up, but a betraying flush crept up his neck.

“Adam, you take the fence on the north range, and Joe, you go east. Go and get the supplies you’ll need, and remember, I expect this childish argument to be sorted when you get back.” Ben turned on his heel and walked over to his desk.

Casting Adam another look, Joe went to collect his supplies and bedroll. He hoped Adam would say something, but his brother maintained a cold silence as they packed up and saddled their horses. Joe could hardly bear the atmosphere any longer. He felt as though he was being suffocated. “Adam,” he began, determined to make one last effort to sort this out, before they were apart for a couple of days.

Acting as though he hadn’t heard, Adam mounted Malibu, the black horse he had been riding for several days because Sport was lame, and rode away without a word. Joe watched him go, tears gathering in his eyes. Impatiently, he blinked them away. Well, he had done what he could to mend the breach. The rest was up to Adam. Joe mounted Cochise, and rode out, but his heart was sore.

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

Malibu was a completely different type of horse from Sport, and Adam had to pay attention to where he was going for the first few hours, until the horse finally relaxed and stopped dancing sideways on his toes. Sport had taken a bad step and twisted his fetlock, which had blown up very quickly. Adam hated to be without his long-term mount, although Malibu was a good horse. In his own way, Malibu was as flashy as Sport. Sport was sorrel with white legs – usually considered unlucky by horsemen – and Malibu was solid black, with a broad white blaze. Sport was big and rangy and could run all day. Malibu was better bred, with more nervous energy. It took time to get accustomed to the changes.

Concentrating on his horse allowed Adam to avoid thinking about he and Joe. But when he broke for lunch, he had little choice but to think about his youngest brother. It was true, he realised. He did resent the fact that Joe had grown up, and was no longer willing to play the impressionable little brother to fuel Adam’s sense of superiority. Funny, he hadn’t minded when Hoss grew up. It had given him a companion of nearly his own age. He wondered if it was just the age gap that made it so difficult to remember that Joe was now an adult. Maybe it was because Joe could revert to childhood when it suited him. Or perhaps because, when he was hurt, he still looked a vulnerable 16. Adam didn’t know. All he did know was that he was wrong, and would have to make up his mind to apologise to Joe, and Pa, and start to treat Joe differently.

Humble pie was a bitter dish for anyone, but especially for Adam, who tended to think he knew better than both of his brothers. Hoss didn’t mind. He went along cheerfully with whatever Adam suggested. But Joe was different. Joe always needed to do his own thing. It went against the grain to apologise to him, but Adam knew he had to do it. With a deep sigh, Adam got to his feet, and remounted. Perhaps a couple of days thinking about it would make the actual task easier, he thought.

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

Pitching camp for the night, Joe set about cooking some supper. He wasn’t really hungry; his appetite was always the first thing to suffer when he was troubled. But he made some bacon and beans, and even managed to eat some of it. “You know, Cooch,” he said, “Adam really needs a kick in the pants.” The pinto snorted agreeably. “But Pa did that, and I know him well enough to know that he finds it hard to say sorry. I know I already done it once, but you know what, Cooch? We’re gonna hunt down brother Adam in the morning and talk about this. Does that sound like a plan?” This time, Cochise shook his mane and whinnied. Joe laughed, feeling better. “All right! It’s a plan!”

Rolling himself in his bedroll, Joe fell asleep in seconds.

                   ***********

The gun clicked right beside Adam’s ear, and he woke with a jerk. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. When they did, he saw 4 men standing over him. “Who are you?” one asked. “And what are you doing here?”

“I’m riding fence,” Adam said, warily, not mentioning his name. “Who are you?”

“I ask the questions, buddy,” the other returned. “Do you work for the Cartwrights?”

“Yes,” Adam replied. He looked at the men, and saw they were well armed.

“I asked your name,” the man reminded him.

“Adam, Adam Johnstone,” Adam answered, using the first name that came into his head.

There was a pause, then the man put the hammer back on the gun and slid it back into his holster. Adam relaxed fractionally. “That’s the same first name as the oldest Cartwright,” said another man. “And he looks a bit like him.”

“Don’t remind me,” Adam said.

He all but saw the other man’s ears prick up at that. “You don’t care much for Adam Cartwright then?”

“No,” Adam returned. “What’s it to you?”

“My name’s Carling,” the man said, squatting down by the fire. “How long you worked for the Cartwrights, Johnstone?”

“Too long,” Adam replied, sourly. “A couple of years, I guess.”

“What’s your beef with them?” Carling asked.

“I’m out riding fence, while they’re all tucked up warm. They’re too fancy to do work like this,” he muttered. Somehow, he had to find out what these men wanted, and then get away from them. But it wasn’t going to be easy. He held his gaze steady on Carling. “Why?”

“I have a proposition for you,” Carling said. “Sit down, boys, I think we’ve found our man.”

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

As the tale unfolded, Adam fought to keep his anger from showing. Carling and his men were rustlers, and were bent on taking a large chunk of the Ponderosa herd. They had some cowboys waiting for them about 10 miles back in a box canyon. They planned to keep the cattle there, and when the heat had died down, to drive them to market somewhere. They had been on the lookout for a disgruntled ranch hand, and thought they had found one in Adam. Adam wondered how on earth he was going to get away to alert his father. Meantime, he played along, harping on about his resemblance to the ‘real’ Adam, and generally creating the persona of a discontented man.

Finally, they settled down to sleep, but one man remained on guard, and he kept an eagle eye on Adam. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Adam tried to sleep, but he was too tense to drop off. When dawn finally lit the eastern sky with rosy fingers, his eyes were grainy and his lids heavy.

They ate breakfast from Adam’s meagre supplies, and questioned him thoroughly about ranch procedure, and finally produced some paper for him to draw a map on. Carefully, Adam drew in several errors, hoping that this might make the men more vulnerable when they began their attempt to steal the cattle. He didn’t know if it would, but anything was worth a try at that point.

“All right, we’ll go for it tomorrow night,” Carling declared. “There won’t be a moon.” He stopped, and his head went up. “What’s that?” he whispered.

The men all went for their guns. Adam could clearly hear a horse coming. A spike of fear shot through his belly, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was Joe. Paralysed with fear, he stood there, unable to think. And then his nightmare came true, and Joe rode into view.

He had no chance. Four guns were centred on him, and he drew rein slowly, raising his hands. His eyes flickered over the men, and opened wide at sight of Adam. “Adam?” he said, and there was concern as well as puzzlement in his tone. He couldn’t figure out what he was seeing.

“Just dismount real slow, kid,” Carling advised him. He glanced at Adam. “That’s the youngest Cartwright kid, isn’t it? I was told he rode a pinto.”

“Yeah, it is,” Adam agreed. He wondered if his voice sounded as strange to the men as it did to him. His lips felt frozen. His eyes were glued to Joe, hoping that his brother wouldn’t say anything to blow his cover. If he did, they would both die.

“Adam?” Joe said, again. There was accusation in his tone now, and although it cut Adam to the core, he was relieved. It would stop the men from suspecting anything. “What is this?” He stepped down from his horse.

Crossing the gap between them in one step, Carling backhanded Joe across the mouth. “Just shut up, kid! Cassidy, tie him up!” He relieved Joe of his gun.

Those green eyes widened, and shot another look at Adam. Joe’s mouth was bleeding, and set in that stubborn way that Adam knew so well. Adam fractionally shook his head, hoping Joe would get the message. It seemed he did, for he stood fairly still as Cassidy tied him up and threw him down under a tree. “What are you going to do to him?” Adam asked, dispassionately.

“We’ll probably kill him in the end,” Carling replied, casually, “but he might come in handy as a hostage if something goes wrong.” He smiled at Adam. “Come and give us a hand with our gear,” he said. “Cassidy, you stay here and keep an eye on the kid.”

As he rose, Adam couldn’t resist glancing at Joe again. Joe was glaring at him, his chin set. He looked furious to the casual observer, but Adam could read the pain and confusion in those green eyes. There was nothing he could do or say, so he simply looked away. Briefly, he closed his eyes. How was he going to get them out of this mess alive?

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

Riding to the north fence line that morning, Joe had felt better than he had since the quarrel. Even his broken heart was starting to mend. He was totally unprepared to ride into the scene that he had. Adam was stony faced, obviously in cahoots with those men, whoever they were. Joe had half expected Adam to step forward with a smooth explanation, and perhaps poke some fun at his younger brother, but he had said next to nothing, and the men he was with didn’t seem to realise that he was a Cartwright, too. Joe caught the look Adam sent him, and kept his mouth shut, but he was confused, and apprehensive. What was going on? Why was Adam treating him like a total stranger? Surely their breach didn’t go that far? Surely Adam didn’t mean to let these men kill him? They were still brothers! Weren’t they?

Fear was shortening Joe’s breath as he began to become a bit panicky. He struggled against his bonds, but Cassidy knew what he was doing, and they didn’t budge. Joe had been in many tight situations before, but never one quite like this. Never one where a member of his own family was part of the gang holding him hostage. He was still wrestling with his bonds when Adam and the others returned. Adam looked to Joe as soon as he appeared. Joe tried to read that dark brown gaze, but he’d never had much luck reading Adam’s eyes, for Adam was too self contained to let his emotions show.

As the day wore on, Joe continued to try out his bonds, but all he did was rub his wrists raw. However, he noticed that Adam was being watched nearly as closely as he was, and the clues began to fall into place for Joe. However Adam had become entangled with this gang, they didn’t know who he was. Listening to the conversations around him, Joe picked up enough information to realise what they intended to do.

Darkness fell, and the men cooked some beans for supper. Adam crossed to Joe with a plate, sat down next to him, and began to feed him. “Don’t say anything,” he cautioned in an undertone. “They don’t know who I am. They think I’m a hand with a grudge against us.” He spooned some more into Joe’s mouth. “I’ve got to pretend I don’t know you, but I’ll try and get you out of here.”

Evading the next spoonful, Joe turned his head away. “I thought you hated me,” he whispered.

“What are you whispering about, boy?” Carling yelled.

Looking over, Joe said, “I was asking him what he was doing with a rat like you!”

“Eat it!” Adam said, loudly. “I got better things to do than feed you, kid!” He shoved the spoon at Joe again, who took it. “I’ll try and help you,” he muttered. “Just relax.” He offered more beans, but Joe turned his head away again. Adam frowned, but didn’t force the issue. “Suit yourself,” he sneered, and got up and walked away. Joe kept his head turned away, feeling the beans lie heavy in his stomach. He and Adam were both trapped, but for all Adam’s words about trying to help Joe, he hadn’t said the one thing Joe needed to hear. He hadn’t said he didn’t hate Joe.

“Problems, Johnstone?” Carling said. “Is the kid being snotty? Beans ain’t good enough for him, huh?”

“You got it, Mr Carling,” responded Adam, with forced jocularity. “Heard tell he’s real fussy about his food.”

“I’m fussy about my company, too,” Joe said, before he could help himself. Adam stiffened, and Carling laughed.

“Go on, Johnstone, now’s your chance,” Carling urged. “Nobody here’s going to complain too loudly if you teach the kid a lesson.”

Still, Adam stood there frozen. He had to do something, but could he bring himself to hit his brother? The thought jolted through him, for the previous day, he had done just that. Joe, guessing what was going through his brother’s mind, spoke up again. “He’s just a coward,” he sneered. “He hasn’t got the guts to do it!”

Swinging round, Adam yanked the younger man to his feet by the collar. “You’ve got a big mouth,” he snarled. He cocked his fist, and whispered, “sorry,” just as his first punch connected with Joe’s face.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done; yet he soon felt anger burning in him again. If Joe hadn’t been so eager to make up their quarrel, if he’d just been content to let Adam brood in peace, he wouldn’t have been in danger, and Adam wouldn’t have been forced to beat him up. Joe was helpless with his hands and feet tied, and it took Adam only a few blows to put his brother down. Where possible, Adam had pulled his punches as much as he could, but his anger broke through more often than he would’ve liked. Joe was bleeding and dazed when Adam let him drop back to the ground. He stood over Joe for a few moments, seeing the damage his fists had done, and feeling about 6 inches high. A low moan reached his ears, and he turned away, sickened.

Laughing, Carling stood up and clapped Adam on the shoulder. “Bet you’ve wanted to do that for a long time, haven’t you?” he asked.

“A long time,” Adam responded, avoiding looking at Joe. He went and sat down on his bedroll.

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

The fire had died down, and the man on guard duty had fallen asleep. Adam eased from his bedroll and tiptoed over to Joe. The younger man was asleep, and the bruises on his face weren’t as visible in the dim light. Adam put his hand over Joe’s mouth and shook him. Joe panicked awake, but his cry was muffled against Adam’s hand. After a moment, he recognised his brother, and relaxed slightly. Swiftly, Adam cut through the ropes binding Joe, and handed him the knife. “Get out of here,” he breathed against Joe’s ear. “Get help.”

Wincing slightly as he rubbed his wrists, Joe whispered, “What about you?”

“Never mind me. Just go. I’ll try and slow them down, but no promises! Go!” He dragged Joe to his feet and gave him a shove. Tucking the knife into his belt, and giving Adam a last look, Joe ran off. Adam slipped back beneath his covers, and tried to relax.

He had barely put his head down when the guard woke with a snort, and looked round. It took him a moment to comprehend the cut ropes lying where their prisoner had been. “Carling! He’s gone. The kid’s gone!”

The whole camp sat up, and rubbed at sleepy eyes. Adam did the same, looking round as though expecting to see Joe where he had been lying when Adam went to sleep. Carling shot him a suspicious look, but Adam was frowning. “We’ve got to get him back,” he said. “He knows who I am!”

“Don’t worry,” Carling said grimly. “He’s seen our faces, too, and I’m in no hurry to meet the local sheriff. We’ve got to find him!” He gestured to Adam. “You stay with me!”

And so the hunt began. Joe had less than a minute’s head start, and Adam feared that it wouldn’t be enough. His trail was easy enough to follow, too easy for Adam to mislead them. They did track along it quickly. Adam’s heart was in his mouth. What chance did Joe have against all of them? There was a shout from ahead, and dimly, Adam saw one of the men go down. Joe had managed to get the drop on him. He glanced round, saw Adam with the others closing in on him and made a run for it again. It was bad enough being chased, but somehow worse knowing that Adam was part of the group pursuing him. Joe forced his legs to move faster.

But he was too late. As he ran into the open again, a rope sang through the air and dropped squarely over his shoulders and jerked him off his feet. By the time Joe was fighting free of the rope, Cassidy and another man had arrived, and Joe went down under their onslaught. Another few seconds passed until Carling and Adam got there, and looked down on the helpless captive. Cassidy was binding him firmly with the lariat. “He won’t be able to tell on you now, Johnstone,” Cassidy growled.

“Good,” Adam grunted. He watched as Carling kicked Joe viciously in the side. Joe shot him a glance, but Adam couldn’t meet his eyes. Joe’s heart grew cold within him. Adam was doing nothing to help him. Had their quarrel gone so deep?

“How did he get away?” Carling demanded. He reached down and roughly searched Joe, finding the knife tucked into his belt. “Didn’t you search him before you tied him up?” he asked Cassidy.

“I didn’t think of it any more than you did,” Cassidy replied, shrugging off Carling’s hand. “You took his gun off him, what more did you want?”

“Let’s get him back to camp,” Carling said, and gestured to Adam to pick Joe up. There was a bad gash along Joe’s cheekbone, and Adam hoped that he didn’t have any broken bones. He slung Joe over his shoulder, and they headed back to camp.

By the time they got there, Joe was groaning with every step. Adam dropped him, and walked away, unable to look at the hurt in his younger brother’s eyes. Carling knelt by Joe and looked him over. “Where was the knife?” he asked, conversationally.

“Does it matter?” Joe answered. “Did you think I was just going to sit here?”

Hefting the knife, Carling looked closely at it. “A.C.,” he murmured. “These aren’t your initials. Whose are they?”

“It belongs to my brother Adam,” Joe replied. “I borrowed it.”

“You borrowed it,” echoed Carling. “From what your friend here was telling me about brother Adam, he won’t take too kindly to your having borrowed his knife, will he?”

“What’s it to you?” the young man said, bitterly. “When you meet Adam, you’ll find he won’t have taken too kindly to you ‘borrowing’ his brother!” He threw an angry glance at Adam, who turned his head away.

“I heard different,” Adam mumbled. “I heard he ain’t always too keen on you.”

“My brother Hoss ain’t too keen on people who hurt me. I’d watch out!” Joe swallowed sharply against the hurt.

“You got spunk, boy,” Carling laughed. He rose and looked round at his men. “Let’s get some sleep. The next man who falls asleep on watch is dead.” There was no doubting that he meant it.

Lying down on his bedroll, Adam wondered once again how on earth they were going to get out of this. They would be watching Joe even more carefully now. Eventually exhaustion closed his eyes, and he slept.

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

It was a long, cold, painful night for Joe. His body ached where he had been slung over Adam’s shoulder, and his face throbbed. The ropes chafed his flesh more than ever, and they were tied more tightly than before. Even knowing that Adam was close by was no comfort to Joe. Adam’s motives were a mystery to Joe. His cover as a ranch hand gone bad was too convincing. Joe knew Adam really did have mixed feelings about the ranch. He wondered if Adam had mixed feelings about him, too. Although he was aware that Adam had pulled some of his punches, the anger behind the blows was unmistakeable. The cold looks had no warm glint behind them. For all Adam had set him free, Joe wasn’t sure that he would get any more help from his sibling. He wondered where their relationship had gone wrong, and what, if anything, he could do to mend it.

Looking over at the men sleeping by the fire, Joe wished that he had his bedroll, which was tied onto the back of his saddle. It was cold where he was lying. Wriggling round, Joe noticed the man on watch turning his gun in his direction. For several long moments, their gazes clashed, then the man looked away. Joe looked over at Adam again. Disbelief and hurt coursed through Joe, for Adam was asleep! Joe dragged his gaze away from his older brother. How could he sleep when their lives were in danger? Joe bit his lip. Anger flared up inside him again. Everything was so damned easy for Adam. He’d got himself into the gang, and would be all right, so why should he bother about his pesky little brother? But Joe’s sense of fairness wouldn’t allow that thought to continue. Adam had tried to get him safely away, even if he hadn’t seemed to care that Joe didn’t make it. It was all too confusing.

Worn out by his emotions, Joe fell into a restless doze, and dreamed endlessly of Adam chasing him through the dark.

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

The sun had been up for a while when Carling brought Joe some food. He untied the young man briefly, as he had the evening before, to allow Joe to relieve himself. He kept his gun trained on Joe the whole time. He beckoned to Cassidy to come and tie Joe up again, and Joe backed away. He didn’t know if he could face being bound again.

A nasty smile crossed Carling’s face, and he followed Joe step for step. Joe kept going, one step at a time, knowing that he couldn’t get away, but unwilling to submit. He knew he was being toyed with, but he couldn’t stop himself. He kept his gaze trained on Carling’s gun. Suddenly, he bumped into something, and turned his head. It didn’t come as a surprise to find it was Adam.

“Going somewhere?” Adam asked, coldly. The tone dragged a shiver down Joe’s spine, because it was the exact tone Adam used whenever he caught Joe in some youthful transgression. Adam’s eyes were empty of even the tiniest bit of warmth. Joe caught his breath, and instinctively shoved Adam out of his way, making a dive to his right, and freedom.

With an angry roar, Adam threw himself on Joe, tackling him about the knees, and bringing him crashing to the ground. Joe fought back frantically, now so desperate to escape that he didn’t care who he hurt in the process. Adam was taller and heavier than Joe, but Joe had panic to lend him strength. He snapped a kick at Adam, who barely managed to evade it.

That allowed Joe a momentary break, and he again scrabbled to his feet, but Adam recovered quickly, and brought him down once more. Carling and his men were watching the fight with great interest. Adam finally managed to pin Joe down, and sat astride his chest. Furiously angry, for he had been trying to save Joe from Carling, Adam clipped his brother several times on the chin. Joe tried to fend Adam off, but Adam’s weight was telling, and it wasn’t long before Joe sagged unconscious.

Pushing himself away from the unconscious figure on the ground, Adam wiped away a trickle of blood from his mouth, and looked at the other men. Carling was openly laughing, and Adam felt a spasm of unease. “You really don’t like that kid, do you?” Carling said, and slapped Adam on the shoulder.

“Less and less,” Adam said, and staggered away to get a drink. He watched dispassionately as Cassidy efficiently tied Joe up. Joe hadn’t stirred, and Adam fought down a surge of guilt. He blew on his knuckles before realising what he was doing, and looked down on the raw skin. His knuckles were red and scraped, and Adam felt sick. He had hit Joe harder and more often than he’d intended. He closed his eyes for a moment. How was he going to get them out of this before his relationship with his brother was completely destroyed?

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

“I done left a note, Pa,” Hoss said, coming out of the house and closing the door behind him. He took Chubb’s rein from the hitching post and mounted. “I dunno how pleased Adam and Little Joe’ll be when they get back, and find they’ve to come out to the range again.”

“Well, I don’t really care how they feel,” Ben said. He turned Buck and they headed out of the yard. “With the hands taking ill like this, we need every eye we can get.”

“Paul reckons its flu,” Hoss commented, as though Ben didn’t already know. “Hope it don’t take too many of them.”

“Me, too,” Ben agreed. “We’re short-handed as it is. I just hope Adam and Joe don’t get back too late tonight.” He shifted his shoulders. “We’ll get the herd brought as close to the house as we can until this crisis is over.”

“Dadburnit,” Hoss muttered. “Ain’t this jist the wrong time for a flu outbreak!”

They urged their mounts into an easy, ground-covering lope.

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

How long he’d lain unconscious, Joe was never to know. But when he did rouse, he felt terrible, and it wasn’t just because of the beating he’d received. As Joe was wont to point out to anyone who’d listen, he’d been beaten up before. No, it was the source of the beating that hurt him most. Adam had been like a man demented. Joe had seen fury in his brother’s eyes often enough to recognise it when he saw it, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing Adam so angry before. It scared him. He had never before felt this kind of distance between them.

At noon, the men made a meal and sat and ate it. Joe was offered nothing, not even water. By now, he lay in the full glare of the sunlight, and before long his head was throbbing mercilessly. He closed his eyes and drifted. Adam hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction since it happened. Joe didn’t realise that it was because Adam was too ashamed to look at him. He was too miserable to care.

A short while before the sun began to set, Carling came across to where Joe lay, and sliced through the rope binding his feet. “Get up!” he ordered.

The first movement awakened all Joe’s aches and pains, and he couldn’t repress a groan as he flopped back down. His bruises had stiffened, and the effort of getting up was too much for him, especially with his hands still bound behind his back. Joe closed his eyes. Carling kicked him viciously in the ribs. “I said, get up!”

“Get lost!” Joe gasped. He was curled up, trying to breathe through the new pain thumping through his side. Carling kicked him in the kidneys. Joe’s back arched as the agony blossomed. He couldn’t stop another groan getting past his teeth.

“Get up!” Carling ordered, and yanked Joe to his feet. He grinned at the young man. “Something wrong, boy?”

Lifting his head, Joe caught a glimpse of Adam over Carling’s shoulder. “Not with me,” he said, quietly.

“You got a big mouth, boy,” Carling snarled. He cocked his fist. Joe met his gaze.

“One day, it might get me into trouble,” Joe responded. He could feel the sweat on his upper lip, but he continued to hold his head up high.

“It already has,” Carling murmured. He dragged Joe over to Cochise, and drew his gun. Cocking it, he placed the barrel against Joe’s head. “One move, and its all over,” he warned. Joe stood motionless as Cassidy untied his hands, and retied them in front of him. His wrists were raw and bleeding, and he bit his lip as the rough hemp was tightened round them again.

Stepping back, Carling set the hammer again. “Get on,” he ordered, and Joe, having no choice, swung himself on board. His reins were already tied to the horn of Carling’s saddle. The other men mounted up and they rode out.

After about an hour later, they drew rein in a draw of trees. The men drew bandannas up over their faces, and Carling drew Cochise close to his own mount. Reaching over, he forced a gag into Joe’s mouth. “Just so your big mouth won’t give us away!” he laughed.

“Carling, the herd sounds restless,” one of the men said.

Sure enough, now that their attention had been brought to it, they could all hear the herd mooing and trampling about. Joe resisted looking at Adam, as he had throughout the ride. It wasn’t too hard. He was too sore to turn round, and he certainly didn’t want to look at the cause of his discomfort. All the way, he’d been able to feel Adam’s eyes burning into his back. Joe shifted uneasily, and Carling’s eyes snapped to him at once. “One move!” he warned. Joe held his gaze until he turned away.

“We’d better move, then,” Carling said. “We don’t want them to start a panic before we get the chance to rustle ‘em!”

They moved out. Cochise was snubbed so close to Carling’s mount that Joe’s leg rubbed against its side. It was a pity, Joe reflected, that he couldn’t move his leg enough to give the horse a good kick!

The sun was down, but there was still enough light to see, and Joe immediately recognised 2 of the riders. A jolt of fear rushed through his stomach, and he knew that he had to do something to warn Pa and Hoss before anything happened. Completely forgetting about Adam, Joe shot a glance at Carling, and knew that he had to act at once.

Reaching up with his bound hands, Joe ripped the gag from his mouth and bellowed, “Rustlers!” as loudly as he could. In the same instant, he threw himself from his horse.

Turning, Ben saw the group of 6 men coming from the trees, and he immediately recognised Cochise. The voice had been Joe’s and he saw a figure dive from the pinto’s back. “Come on, men!” he shouted, and the hands drew their guns and began to shoot.

The group scattered, and Ben saw the person next to Joe leap over Cochise and chase after Joe. He cursed under his breath, but there was nothing he could do for Joe right now. They had to drive the rustlers off, and get the herd back under control again. His heart in his mouth, Ben fired again.

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

Rolling desperately away from Cochise, Joe forced himself to his feet, and ran back into the trees, hoping to lose any pursuit. From behind, he could hear someone crashing through the undergrowth after him. Joe swiped his arm over his face, soaking up the sweat on his upper lip. The light was dying fast, and amongst the trees, it was very uncertain. Joe kept running, his breath coming in painful gasps.

“Cartwright, you get back here!” Carling shouted, and Joe increased his pace. A bullet whistled past his ear and thudded into a tree ahead of him. Ducking, Joe lost his balance, and almost fell. He knew that if he went down, he’d be lost. “Johnstone! He’s coming your way! Get him!”

Another bullet whined by, and Joe knew that his luck wouldn’t hold forever. He was tiring rapidly, his earlier injuries taking their toll. The footing under the trees was unstable and Joe slipped and slid constantly. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on. There was still sporadic gunfire from behind him, and he could only pray that Ben and Hoss were safe and unharmed.

Panting and exhausted, Joe wiped the sweat from his face again. His sleeve was sodden. He ran on, too terrified to stop. He briefly wondered where Adam was, but he was so tired now, that he needed all his concentration to put on foot past the other. In the darkness under the trees, Joe didn’t see the exposed tree root, and tripped over it, crashing headlong to the ground. Panic had him on his feet, although he was so winded he could barely drag enough oxygen into his air-starved lungs. He threw a glance over his shoulder, looking for his pursuers, and ran headlong into one of them.

Crashing to the ground once more, Joe looked up at the dim figure standing over him. There was no mistaking his brother Adam. Fear coursed through Joe, and he began to scrabble backwards, trying desperately to get away. Effortlessly, Adam reached down and grabbed Joe’s collar.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, coldly.

With a cry of revulsion, Joe used his bound hands as a club and hit Adam on the side of the head. Startled and stunned, Adam lost his grip of Joe, and reeled away. Joe almost fell again, but used the nearest tree to catch his balance, and staggered away. There was another shot, and Joe felt a searing pain in his thigh. His right leg suddenly seemed to have no strength. Even as Joe twisted, and fell, another bullet traced its path along the side of his head.

It seemed to Joe that the world was very far away. He lay face down on the forest floor, and listened as his older brother discussed him with the man who was holding him hostage. “He’s pretty badly injured,” Adam was saying, coldly. “Leave him here. We must get away.”

“I think we’ll take him along,” Carling said. “Don’t you think so, Cassidy? Very useful hostage, the youngest Cartwright boy.”

“He’ll slow us down,” protested Adam.

“But if we have him,” Carling went on, “you’ll have to do what we say, since he is your little brother, isn’t he, Adam Cartwright?” Joe cried out as Carling jerked him to his feet.

Forcing open his eyes, Joe saw that Adam had his hands raised. Cassidy was pointing a gun at him. He swallowed. Whatever had happened, Adam was still his brother. “Forget me,” he mumbled. “Run!”

“Shut up!” Carling yelled, and he shook Joe. Pain exploded through his body, and he fell into the welcoming darkness.

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

“The shout came from up there, Pa,” Hoss said. He and Ben were making their way through the woods on foot, tracking the shots. The herd was once more back under control, and the men were taking it on towards the house. Ben and Hoss were tracking Little Joe. Both feared they would find him dead.

It was now completely dark. Ben came to an uneasy halt, putting his hand out to stop Hoss. Puzzled, Hoss looked across at his father. “What is it?” he whispered.

Shaking his head, Ben stood listening. There was total silence; no birds called, nothing rustled in the undergrowth. It was as though the woods were waiting. Ben was very uneasy. He took hold of Hoss’ sleeve, and dragged him into meagre shelter behind some low brush. He couldn’t see anything, but his instinct told him that there was someone out there.

A bullet sang over their heads, and Ben fired back at the muzzle flash. “Hold your fire, Cartwright,” a voice shouted. “Unless you want your sons back in small pieces!”

“Who are you?” Ben called back, exchanging a glance with Hoss. “How do I know you’ve got my sons?”

“Pa?” came Adam’s voice. “Its true, they’ve got Joe and me. Joe’s injured….” His voice trailed off.

“Adam?” Ben called. He risked a glance over the top of the bush. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, for he could see a little more clearly now. Up ahead was a rock formation, and that was where the men were holed up.

“I’m afraid Adam ain’t gonna say any more right now, Cartwright!” There was laughter in the voice.

“Let me talk to Joe,” Ben demanded.

“Can’t do that,” came the mocking reply. “He’s not feelin’ very chatty right now.”

“What do you want?” Ben asked.

“I was gonna steal some of them cows of yours, but I guess money would do just as well. I reckon $15,000 for each of your boys sounds fair.”

Sinking back on his heels, Ben gazed sightlessly at Hoss. “What cha gonna do, Pa?” Hoss asked.

“I don’t have that kind of money at the house,” Ben shouted. “My other son will have to go into town for it. That’ll take time.”

“Better not take too much time,” the voice answered. “Or your littlest boy won’t be around for you to worry about.”

Swallowing against his fear, Ben put his hand on Hoss’ arm. “Hoss, go back down the hill, and send one of the men to town for the sheriff and the doctor. Then double back, and work your way around to the other side of that bluff. They won’t expect you back for a while, so I hope they won’t be looking out for you.”

“Right, Pa,” Hoss agreed. “You be careful, you hear?”

“You, too, son,” Ben said. He looked over the brush again. “Hoss is leaving now.”

“Tell him to hurry, then,” the voice responded.

There was no need, Hoss was already hurrying back in the direction of the herd, leaving Ben sitting alone, worrying about all his sons.

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

Sitting with his back against the rock, Adam tenderly cradled Joe’s head on his lap. He had ripped both sleeves from his shirt, and had tied one round the wound on Joe’s thigh, and was stanching the blood from Joe’s head injury with the other. Cassidy had his rifle trained on them both, and Carling had his pistol drawn ready for use. Yet, they hadn’t let Adam untie Joe. If they’d had some handy rope, Adam knew they would have tied him up, too. Perhaps that gave them a slight chance, but Adam didn’t know how they were going to get out of this one. Even when Hoss brought the money, they wouldn’t be allowed to live, for they had seen the gang’s faces. Joe groaned, and Adam soothed him. If help didn’t come soon, Joe might die.

“How long do you figure its gonna take that other Cartwright to get to town and back with the money?” Carling asked Cassidy. He holstered his gun.

“A couple of hours, at the least,” Cassidy returned. He let the rifle drop slightly. “It’s a fair way into Virginia City.”

“That’s what I thought,” Carling agreed, he turned his back to peer through the darkness. “Guess we’ll just have to sit here and wait it out. Guess the others are dead?” He didn’t sound concerned.”

“Guess so,” muttered Cassidy. He didn’t sound concerned, either. “You don’t think they’ll try anything, do you?”

“The old man?” scoffed Carling. “Nah, we’ve got his precious sons here. You know what we heard about them. How Cartwright would do anything for the lives of his boys!” He laughed. “Soft, that’s what he is.”

Stifling a snort, Adam began to ease his big coat off his shoulders. Joe was shivering. There was an ominous click, as Cassidy cocked his rifle. “Whatever you’re doing, do it real slow,” he warned. Adam gave him a disgusted look.

“My brother’s cold,” he said. “What did you think?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past you, Adam,” Carling sneered. “After all, you thought you had us fooled, didn’t you?” He walked over to Adam and looked down at him. “But I reckon you ain’t such a wonderful brother. After all, you took a good chunk out of the kid’s hide a couple of times. Real brotherly love that, ain’t it, Cassidy?”

Reminded, Adam felt a surge of hatred rise in his throat. Moving deliberately, he laid the coat over Joe. He glared at Carling. “I didn’t like doing it. Leave him alone. Haven’t you done enough to him?””

“Ooh, big man, I’m real scared,” Carling gloated. “I wasn’t the one who knocked my kid brother about.”

The voices roused Joe, and he squinted through the pain in his head to see who was talking. “Scum,” Joe said. He was looking right at Carling when he said it. “Cowardly scum.”

In one stride, Carling was by his prisoners, and he grabbed Joe, laughing as the youth couldn’t contain a cry of pain. “Scum, am I? It was your brother who beat you so badly, boy! Just you remember that. He tried to get us to leave you here to die. That’s right! Him! Your precious brother. He didn’t seem to mind us borrowing you, as you put it.” Laughing at Joe’s stunned expression, he dropped the young man again. Adam barely managed to catch him.

Settling Joe on the cold ground, Adam looked up from where he crouched. He looked dangerous. “Joe’s right,” he said. “You are scum! Picking on an injured man! You disgust me.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Carling hissed. “I can take you, Cartwright!”

It was all the invitation Adam needed. He launched himself at the outlaw, hit him around the waist, and they tumbled to the ground. Cassidy hastily got out of their way, and went to stand close by Joe, the rifle pointing loosely in the injured man’s direction. Joe was oblivious to his danger, as he was once again unconscious.

Back and forth they battled, punching each other furiously, but neither one able to get the upper hand. Cassidy watched, enjoying seeing Carling taking a beating for once. Finally, Adam began to get the upper hand. He barely noticed the punches Carling threw at him. He was taking his guilt out on Carling. He threw one last punch, and Carling went down, too winded to move.

At once, Cassidy straightened up, bringing the barrel of his rifle up. “Hold it, Cartwright,” he ordered. “Stay right where you are!”

Straightening with difficulty, Adam wiped his face. He looked at Joe, lying so close to Cassidy, and knew that he didn’t have a chance of getting to the outlaw before he could fire at Joe. He dragged his hand over his mouth. “Don’t do anything rash,” Adam warned.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders around here,” Cassidy said. He pointed the gun down at Joe. “Unless it was all a pose, and you really do hate your brother? I could easily get rid of him for you. What do you say, Cartwright?”

From behind Cassidy, Adam saw a flicker of movement, but he didn’t dare take his gaze from the outlaw, in case he killed Joe. “I don’t hate him,” Adam insisted. As he spoke, Hoss came charging out of the night, and hit Cassidy between the shoulders and knocked him flat. The rifle went off and Adam flinched. “Joe!” he cried, and threw himself at his prostrate brother.

It took him several moments to convince himself that Joe hadn’t been hit. As Hoss hollered to Ben that he had them under control, Adam sagged down beside Joe, weak with relief. Suddenly, all his bruises began to throb, and he had to blink hard to get rid of the tears that welled in his eyes. “You’re gonna be all right, Joe,” he whispered. “I promise.”

“Adam!” Ben was kneeling by Adam, his arm round his shoulders. “Are you all right, son?”

“Yes,” Adam muttered, and looked away from Ben. He couldn’t bring himself to look his father in the eye, given what he had done to Joe. “Joe’s hurt bad, Pa.”

Giving Adam a searching look, Ben turned his attention to Joe. He saw at once that he needed the doctor, and he began to marshal his thoughts together to plan getting them home, and the outlaws to justice.

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

“No, Adam!” Joe screamed. He writhed on the bed, trying to break free of his father’s firm grasp. “NO!” He flopped down, panting. His eyes opened, but there was no recognition in those fevered green depths. “Adam, please, why?”

“Easy, Joe,” Ben soothed. “Take it easy. Adam is safe, I promise.” He took the wet cloth from Hoss and wiped Joe’s head. It had been an anxious few days for Ben. Joe had been running a slight fever by the time they got back to the ranch, and then he had succumbed to the flu outbreak that had hit the Ponderosa. His temperature soared upwards, and he was a very sick young man. He seemed to suffer from constant nightmares featuring Adam. Ben had no idea why, because Adam, too, had come down with the flu and had lost his voice completely. Hoss was virtually running the Ponderosa single-handed.

“Gosh, Pa,” Hoss said, his voice weary, “I’d sure like to know what them varmints did to Adam and Little Joe. Joe’s mighty upset, whatever it was.”

“I know,” Ben agreed. “I wish I knew what Joe was seeing. If only we could get his temperature to come down, and he could rest.”

“Doc Martin should be here soon,” Hoss said. “I’ll go an’ check on Adam.”

Easing open the door to his older brother’s room, Hoss saw at once that Adam was awake. But he looked sombre, as he had looked ever since they got home. Like Joe, Adam had become sick almost at once, and the family hadn’t had the chance to ask him what had happened to them. Roy Coffee had the men locked up, and had enough to send them to prison for kidnapping and rustling, without any testimony from either Cartwright son. Whatever had happened to them, Hoss knew it was eating Adam up inside.

“How you feelin’?” he asked.

Shrugging wearily, Adam opened his mouth, but not even a squeak came out. He moved listlessly to a new position, his gaze drawn away from Hoss to the window. Hoss sat down beside him, and felt his forehead. Impatiently, Adam shrugged him off, and gave him a hard look. “Dadburnit, Adam,” Hoss grumbled, “I’m just seeing if the fever’s gone.” He shook his head. “If’n you ain’t a worse patient than Little Joe!”

Indignantly, Adam glared at his brother. It was almost the first spark of life that Hoss had seen since he came home. After a moment, he jerked his head in the direction of Joe’s room, and raised an eyebrow. “He’s jist the same,” Hoss admitted. “He keeps shouting about ya, Adam. Whatever happened to you fellows must’ve bin real bad.”

Just for an instant, Adam’s brown eyes were filled with hurt, then he turned his head away again, closing Hoss out. Adam always bottled things up, and tried to deal with them alone, but it didn’t always work. Hoss knew that if he didn’t get to the bottom of this soon, Adam would become too withdrawn to share it with them. But, with Adam unable to speak, there was nothing he could do. After sitting there for a while, Hoss realised that Adam had gone to sleep, and he let himself silently out.

As he drew closer to Joe’s room, he could hear his brother’s voice, light and breathless. “Adam, don’t hit me! Please! Oh, Adam, let me go! Don’t let them! Please!” As Hoss entered the room, Joe suddenly sat up. “ADAM!” he screamed. His eyes were wide open, and he gazed at Hoss as he gasped for breath.

“Joe! Easy, son, easy,” soothed Ben, laying him gently back down. He stroked Joe’s head, being careful to avoid the bandage. The bullet crease on his head wasn’t serious, but it was painful. Paul had operated to remove the bullet from his thigh. If it hadn’t been for the flu, Joe would be in reasonable shape, considering his ordeal.

For the moment, Joe was lucid. “Pa,” he panted, grabbing his parent’s shirt. “Is Adam all right? He isn’t dead, is he?”

“He’s all right,” Ben assured him. “He’s got the flu, same as you, son. But he’s on the mend.”

“He didn’t mean it, did he?” Joe went on, still panting heavily. Ben gently blotted the sweat from his face. “I don’t know, but the dreams… Oh, Pa, the dreams!”

“He didn’t mean what, Joe?” Ben asked, puzzled, but Joe was already too tired to talk any more, and his eyes were closing. Ben gently wiped his bruised, gashed face once more with cool water. His fingertips were wrinkled and white from their long contact with water, but Ben didn’t even notice any more. All his being was concentrated on helping his sons get well.

It was nearing midnight when Joe’s temperature spiked again, violently, and then the fever suddenly broke in a drenching sweat. For a brief moment, Joe’s eyes opened, then he fell in the first deep sleep he’d had in days. He didn’t move as Hoss lifted him from the bed to allow Ben to change the soaking sheets. “Go to bed, Pa,” Hoss said, kindly. “I’ll sit with him. Seems to me he’s on the mend.”

“I think I will,” agreed Ben, and Hoss truly knew that Joe was recovering.

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

It came as no surprise when Ben Cartwright succumbed to the flu outbreak. He had had very little sleep over the past few days, and his resistance was lowered. Hoss left the nursing to Hop Sing’s capable hands as he carried on the outdoor tasks. Adam’s voice was creeping back slowly, but he was still too shaky to get up for more than a few minutes at a time. Joe was confined to bed because of his leg injury, but he wasn’t showing any signs of wanting to get up. In fact, he was showing distinct signs of wanting to retreat from the world completely. The little Chinese cook didn’t know when he’d last seen the boy so depressed.

Several more days passed before Adam was able to traverse the stairs. He walked past Joe’s room without even looking at the door, and Hoss, who happened to see him, grew more worried than ever. Joe had been very ill, and wasn’t totally out of the woods yet. The brothers hadn’t seen each other since the day they were rescued from the woods, but Adam made no effort to open the door and go in.

Walking slowly out to the barn, Hoss realised that it was up to him to try and bring his brothers together. Ben was sick, and Hop Sing was too busy. The only problem was, Hoss couldn’t figure out how to bring them together. He didn’t know what had gone wrong between them. All day, he thought about it, as he supervised the men, checked on the herd, and did the house chores.

After supper, which he ate on a tray with his father, Hoss went through to sit with Joe. The worst of the gashes on Joe’s face were healing up, and the bruising had died back to a dirty yellow. The bandage was off Joe’s head, and he had told Hoss that morning that his persistent headache had finally gone. All in all, Joe looked better than he had.

“Hey, Joe,” Hoss began, uncomfortably. “What happened to ya? You done said some things about Adam when you weren’t well.”

Joe looked away from Hoss, but not before his brother had seen the sudden tears welling in his eyes. “Hey, Punkin’, it ain’t that bad, is it?” Hoss instinctively took Joe’s hand.

“I can’t,” Joe whispered. He looked utterly wretched. “I can’t tell you, Hoss.”

“Can you tell me?” came Ben’s voice from the doorway. He was dressed in his robe, and looked worn out, but he had felt well enough to visit Joe, until he was about half way along the hall. By then, it was as easy to go to Joe’s room, as it was to go back to his own. Hoss jumped to his feet, and helped Ben into a seat. “Joe, we want to help you, son, but you need to tell us what happened.”

The sight of his father’s white face made Joe hesitate a moment longer, but the need to tell someone was overwhelming, and the words began to pour out in a torrent, tumbling over each other in his rush to get it all in the open. Adam with the men, the beating, his short-lived escape, the next morning, and Adam hunting him through the wood. And, finally, the nightmares, where Adam was somewhere in the darkness, hunting for him. And every time, he caught Joe. By the end of the recital, Joe was shaking, but Ben kept his grip tight on Joe’s hand. “Why, Pa?” Joe cried, anguished. “Why did he act like that?”

“I don’t know,” Ben replied, his heart heavy. “He must have had a reason. Joe, I can’t believe Adam meant to hurt you. But the only person who can tell you what you need to know is Adam. Hoss, ask your brother to come up here, so we can talk to him, please.”

“Sure, Pa,” Hoss agreed, rather shaken himself. He turned and left.

From the door of his room, Adam saw Hoss go downstairs. He grabbed his jacket, and left by the back stairs, before Hoss had the chance to find him. He had come upstairs with the intention of going back to bed, and had heard Joe’s story. Frozen with horror, he had listened to every damning word, and only when Hoss began to move did Adam realise that he could no longer stay.

It took him longer than usual to saddle Sport, and he feared every moment that he would be discovered. He knew his family could never forgive him for the way he had treated Joe. However, Adam finally was prepared, and he left the yard without a backward glance.

               ***********

A thorough search of the house didn’t reveal Adam, and finally they saw Sport was gone. By then, it was dark, and there was no point in trying to track Adam. Ben was still sitting tiredly by Joe’s bed when Hoss returned, but Joe was asleep. Hoss was too tired and confused to keep his voice down. “Adam’s gone,” he said, bluntly. “Took his horse and left.”

“I don’t understand,” Ben said. “I believe Joe, of course, but it doesn’t sound like Adam. He wouldn’t hurt Joe.”

“Pa, Adam and Joe ain’t been gettin’ along too well lately,” Hoss said. “Adam, he was real sore at Joe afore they left. But I think he was so busy foolin’ them guys, he never thought about what Joe was thinkin’.”

“The only person who can tell us is Adam,” Ben replied, his heart sore. “Well, Joe’s asleep, and I think we should get some sleep, too. Tomorrow, we must look for your brother.”

“Not you, Pa,” Hoss said, definitely. “You ain’t well enough yet, and don’t tell me you are! I’ll find Adam. Let’s get you to bed.”

Together, they left. Joe’s eyes opened. Hoss’ voice had wakened him, and he lay thinking about what they had said. He knew that Adam had still been sore at him when they left, and he hadn’t had a chance to work things out properly before they were in the midst of a crisis. Joe knew that he could speculate about Adam’s reasons until hell froze over. The only person who could tell him those reasons was Adam himself. He had to see Adam!

               ***********

The watery dawn light promised rain that day, but Adam was indifferent to the weather signs. He hadn’t brought any supplies with him, but he wasn’t really hungry. He stopped to let Sport rest, and drank from his canteen. The water tasted flat. Adam didn’t care.

His sleepless night caught up with him, and Adam fell asleep. He still wasn’t completely recovered from his bout of flu, and didn’t hear the approaching horse until Sport let out a whinney of recognition. Adam startled awake, and fumbled for his gun. When he looked at the approaching horse, his gut lurched with fear, for it was Cochise.

Standing warily, Adam holstered his gun, and took a couple of steps to meet Joe. There was blood on his brother’s pants leg, and he was green and sweating, but there was a look of total determination on Joe’s face. “Adam. I must talk to you.”

“Go home, Joe,” Adam said, roughly.

“If I’ve come all this way to talk to you, brother, you can at least tell me what I want to know,” Joe said, his tone stern. “Help me down.”

With bad grace, Adam helped Joe from the horse, shocked by how much his brother was trembling. “Here.” Adam thrust the canteen at him, and Joe drank thirstily.

“Thanks.” Joe lay back for an instant. “Tell me why, Adam. Please. There must be a reason. Just tell me.”

For an unreasoning moment, Adam hated Joe for forcing him to tell all. But then he realised that he wouldn’t have felt like that if he didn’t have a deep need to clear his conscience. “I was angry at you, Joe,” he began, slowly. “And Pa was right. I was angry because you were grown up, and doing your own thing, without asking my opinion all the time. I wanted you to stay a child, so you’d look up to me.”

“I’ve always admired you, Adam,” Joe said. “Always.”

“I had decided that I was wrong, Joe. I was going to come looking for you that morning to apologise. But those men came, and I thought my best chance was to pretend to be a ranch hand. And then you came.” Adam swallowed and looked away. “I didn’t know what to do. They knew who you were, and I didn’t want them to hurt you.” He looked down. “I helped you get away, but I couldn’t put them off your trail, it was too obvious. And I was angry when I hit you. I felt that if you hadn’t been so quick to come looking for me, you wouldn’t have been in danger. I was angry that because of me, you might be killed. So I took my anger at me out on you, which wasn’t fair.”

Risking a glance up, he saw Joe was gazing fixedly at him. “It’s a poor excuse, I know,” he went on, harshly. “But it’s the truth. Joe, I wanted to help you, but I couldn’t. Please believe me.”

“What about in the woods?” Joe asked. “You caught me then, and handed me over.”

Dully, he replied, “Cassidy was at my back with a rifle in his hands, pointing at me. What was I supposed to do? He was so close to me, that if he’d shot at me, the bullet would have gone through me into you! I didn’t want to hurt you!”

There was silence. Thinking back to that desperate flight through the woods, Joe realised that he had seen, dimly, behind Adam another figure. At the time, he had been so horrified at Adam’s attitude, that he had forgotten the other person. Suddenly, it all fell into place. Adam wanting to leave him behind in the wood suddenly made perfect sense. Adam knew that if he was left, he’d be found and safe. Only Adam himself would be in danger. And Joe could understand Adam’s anger at Joe being taken hostage. He’d felt similar moments himself in the past, when one or other of his cherished brothers had been in danger because of something he’d done.

“I thought you hated me,” Joe said, softly, wonderingly. “You didn’t say you didn’t.”

“I didn’t get the chance,” Adam replied. “But I don’t hate you, Joe. Sure, we get along like cat and dog most of the time, but Lord knows, I couldn’t hate you!”

“I’m so sorry I thought badly of you,” Joe said. “Can you forgive me?”

“I think I have to ask the same question,” Adam responded. “Can you forgive me for hitting you like that? I didn’t mean to give you nightmares.”

“Of course, I forgive you,” replied Joe, and there were tears in his voice, as well as in his eyes. “Do you forgive me?”

As an answer, Adam took Joe roughly in his arms, and the two men embraced. There was healing in the touch for them both. After that, there was no need to say anything, and they just sat and smiled at one another. But Adam was back in full ‘older brother’ mode, and he soon noticed that Joe looked dreadful. “I think we’d better get you home, buddy,” he said, concern in his voice. “You don’t look too good.”

“I don’t feel too good, either,” admitted Joe wryly.

Rising, Adam went to bring Cochise over, but one look at Joe’s leg told him his brother wouldn’t be riding anywhere for a while. Kneeling, Adam split Joe’s pants leg, and saw the blood seeping steadily from the wound. “You’ve broken the stitches,” he said. “I’ll have to go back and get the wagon.”

“Don’t leave me,” Joe pleaded. “Stay with me for a while.”

Irresolutely, Adam knelt there, not knowing what to do. The first drops of rain began to fall. Then a sound penetrated his mind, and he looked round, disbelieving. But it was true. Coming along the road was the very vehicle he needed, and Hoss and Ben were on the seat. “Pa!” he shouted, waving. “Up here!”

Moments later, Ben was kneeling beside his sons. “Joseph, I ought to skin you alive!” he said, sternly. “You’ve given me a dreadful scare! And you, Adam! Let’s get you into the wagon, and get home.”

“I’m sorry, Pa,” said Joe, contritely. “But I had to find Adam.”

“Don’t talk now, son,” Ben said. “Let’s concentrate on getting you home.”

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

Later, after Paul Martin had once again been summoned, the whole family gathered by Joe’s bedside. Ben looked tired, and should have been in bed himself, still being weak from the flu. But they had to find out what had happened between Adam and Joe.

They told the story in turn, and both Ben and Hoss could see why Adam had run away, and could also see why Joe had thought his brother hated him enough to mistreat him. After the story was over, Ben scolded both his boys gently for not trusting each other, then took them both into a healing hug. “You get some sleep, young man,” Ben told Joe. “And don’t set foot out of that bed until the doctor says you can!”

“I had to go after Adam, Pa,” Joe protested. “I couldn’t let him ride away until I had everything straightened out in my head. I would never have got rid of the nightmares otherwise.”

“I suppose not,” Ben agreed. He bid Joe goodnight, and ushered his other two sons out of the room. “Go to bed, you two,” he said, gently. “Let’s start afresh tomorrow.”

“Night, Pa,” they mumbled.

Pausing in the doorway of his room, Adam looked at Ben and his dark eyes were thoughtful. “Being chased through the dark by someone you love,” he said, slowly. “It’s the stuff of nightmares, isn’t it, Pa?”

“Yes,” Ben replied, sombrely. “But nightmares can be overcome by love. Remember that, son.”

Like a revelation, Adam realised that Joe wasn’t the only one to have had nightmares. He looked at Ben, and saw that his father was thinking the same thing. “I had my nightmares awake,” Adam said. “Joe had his asleep, but they were nightmares all the same. Is that why he felt he had to come after me?”

Sighing, Ben made a face. “I doubt if Joe realised that you were having waking nightmares,” he said. “But Joe knew you were going through hell, too, and he loves you too much to let you go away and deal with that hell alone.”

Swallowing down the lump that had suddenly risen in his throat, Adam turned away and walked back down the hall. He opened the door of Joe’s room, and went in. Ben heard Joe’s sleepy voice, and then there were sobs echoing down the hall. After a time, he heard Adam’s voice, the words too soft for him to catch, but the meaning unmistakable. They were words of thanks, and words of love.

Smiling, Ben went quietly down the hall to his room, and went to bed, secure in the knowledge that when he wakened, all three of his sons would be there, true brothers all.

The End

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