In Gods Good Time
By Sadie Spinner
January 2004
The young man stood defiantly before the larger man,
fists clenched, jaw stuck out; his lips trembled between a tight line and
childish pout.
“You have anything to say for yourself,” came the
sharp bark. The older of the two’s deep, hazel brown eyes narrowed and his
black brow rose in a challenging manor.
“Not to you, I don’t,” snarled the younger man, feet
spread slightly apart for better balance in preparation for the upcoming
battle.
“Watch your tone of voice,” shot back the menacing
reminder.
“Go suck an egg!” his brilliant emerald and gold
specked hazel eyes flashed daringly.
The man before him mentally counted to ten.
“I will let that go for the moment, as you are
obviously close to losing control.”
As he spoke, he lifted his hand to the bridge of his
nose and pinched tightly, hoping to gain a few extra moments before things came
undone in a very bad way.
“Me!! It’s you who started ranting and raving the
second I opened the front door” He swung his arm in the direction of the front
door which stood wide open.
Adam Cartwright removed his hand to stare hard at
his younger brother. “And you forgot to close it I see.”
Joe almost jumped up and down he was so angry. Spinning
on his heels he grabbed the heavy oak door and with all the strength boiling up
in his fury, slammed the door so hard, it felt as if the entire house rocked
from the force, the noise echoing and reverberating all around the great room.
“There” He threw up his hands with a self-satisfied
glare, folding his arms over his chest, stretching himself as tall as he could.
“I shut the door.”
For a split second there was a deadly quiet. The
tick of the clock sounded several hundred times louder than it actually was.
************************************************************************************
The two bodies locked together in mortal combat
could only be seen as a life or death struggle. One of the combatants was a
good head taller than the other, seeming to be no match for the slimmer and
noticeably lighter man. However, sheer fury and blind rage over rode the
deficiency in height, weight and size.
Neither wore a coat despite the biting cold, with
faces red, arms quivering with every passing second, muscles past capacity and
endurance, spasms riding up and down the limbs, dangerously close to tearing
the ligaments from the bone. Still, they fought. Neither feeling. Neither
caring. Each knew only the need to best the other no matter what the cost. Deep
gulps of air seared the lungs. Indifferent to the cold, beads of sweat rose and
seemed to turn to steam upon contact with the air. The hats and gun belts
haphazardly tossed in the snow began a gradual decent into the drifts blowing
over them.
Never before had the Cartwright brothers gone at
each other with such raw, naked, blood lust.
Time apparently could not make up its mind. Hours,
minutes, seconds traded places.
A series of guttural grunts mixed with harsh raspy
breaths comprised the only sounds emitted by either one, so consumed were they.
On a small rise the struggle was being followed by a
lone spectator, half pleased half annoyed that they might spoil his plan. He
watched with morbid fascination as they leaned into one another. First one was
forced a step back, then they pivoted, boots slipping in the now hard packed
snow under them. The other dug in and forced a step forward, arms snaked and
hands flashed as they sought to gain the better position on the other, with
fingers almost beyond feeling, white from cold. Suddenly they broke apart and
staggered back a step, both gasping, leaning down to place their hands on their
thighs in order to hold themselves upright for the next go round.
“All right you sorry excuse for—I have had it -Gasp
-Y--Aahhhhh!” Little Joe Cartwright, his eyes wide open, came at his older
brother, Adam, with everything he had. He intended to once and for all do real
bodily harm to the man who, in his mind, had driven him past the point of
reason, never letting up, hounding, harassing, demanding, unforgiving, and most
of all, the cruelest cuts, unfeeling and unloving.
It only took an instant, as his yell echoed off the
snow-covered treetops. A great thud heralded the crash of his body into that of
Adam’s. As they spun around from the impact, a far off crack bounced around the
hills surrounding them. Both toppled into an unseen ravine, to be swallowed
eagerly by the layers of fresh snow; then crushing clumps of hard packed snow
and ice raced to fill the rest of the space leaving the hole virtually
undetectable. Wrapped in each other’s arms Joe lay hidden under the prone form
of Adam. Ben Cartwright’s eldest and youngest sons lay motionless, entombed in
a snow filled grave.
Serenity restored, prisms created by the swirling
snow devils cast numerous rainbows of various sizes and intensities frivolously
about.
************************************************************************************
The spectator stood, dusted the snow off himself,
walked over to his horse, slid his rifle into the scabbard, mounted up and
without ever looking back, urged his horse into an easy trot and headed into
the mountains toward the
**********************************************************************************
It was a long cold ride. Never liking to be away
when he could help it, Ben felt an urgency he hadn’t noticed when he started
back to his ranch, the Ponderosa, and his sons. Buck, his big gelding kept a
good pace. Thus, temporarily lulled, Ben was able to let his thoughts wander,
until . . . there it was again, a prick at the back of his mind. Shaking his
head, he straightened in the saddle and pulled his horse to a stand still.
Dismounting, Ben pulled off his black leather gloves as he walked around the
animal, lifting each hoof to examine and dislodge clumps of snow.
Unconsciously fumbling, he stuffed the gloves into
his jacket pocket. He found himself asking the snow-covered landscape.“ I must
be far more tired then I realized.” Hesitating, he reached back and placing his
hands in the small of his back, he stretched the ache building there.
“Better not
let the boys catch wind of this,” turning his face up to the sun he chuckled,
“They’ll get to fretting and probably overreact. Well, maybe not, Hoss. He
would be afraid of hurting my feelings, but he will pull me aside and those
clear, blue eyes will see through to the truth.
Those other two, if they haven’t killed each other, will no doubt drive
me to my limit. Joseph will pester and dog me every waking moment . . . that
boy! Why can’t he put that much energy into chores or following orders, for
heaven sake? And Adam, Oh yeah, Adam. He will not have much to say initially,
just arch that brow of his, that frustrating half smile playing on his lips,
the air of his “I can wait” the cat and mouse game. Wherever did he learn
that?”
Preoccupation with avoiding his sons’ scrutiny
dispelled his vague unease. Ben remounted and continued on toward his warm,
welcoming home and wonderful sons.
************************************************************************************
Slowly a tingle began to awaken his senses. Little
Joe Cartwright hovered uncertainly between fear and a strange calm that swirled
around him. His entire being felt at odds with himself. Cautiously, he drew in
a long, wavering breath, his mind stumbled. How could it be? He felt no air
fill his lungs. Despite his reluctance, his eyes flew open. Finding himself
standing, his body was engulfed in cool, damp, strangely comforting fog. Or was
it mist?
Turning his head first left then right, he strained
to hear any sound that might give him a clue . . . somewhere, far, far away he
imagined he heard the tinkle of melodious bell chimes. Suspended in what appeared
to be nowhere, he gulped in a vain attempt to get air into his lungs.
A soft
shuffle seeped into his mind. Slow, hesitant footsteps he reasoned, but whose?
A mixed tumble of emotions ran through him. Biting his lip to keep from
screaming, he waited as the footsteps approached.
Unable to keep quiet any longer, as the mist closed
in, pressing all around him, he whispered fearfully . . . ”Is. Is . . . anybody
there? . . .”A shiver ran
down his spine. A memory flashed in his brain.
“Adam? . . . Adam!. . . is that
you big brother?. . . Please let it be you . . . I’m S-scared . . . Adam . .
.real, really scared . . . please tell me it’s you.”
A soft whisper touched his face. “It’s ok, Little
Joe, it’s me . . . I’m right here. ”
“Where?” He screamed, but the sound floated on the
air in a soft whoosh!
“Right here, little buddy. Here, reach out and give
me your hand.”
“I . . .I. . . I can’t see you . . . come closer
Adam . . . PLEASE . . . ”
“I’m right here, Joe. Just reach out.”
“Why can’t I see you? Why don’t you come get me?”
There was the sound of a deep sorrowful sigh. “I . .
. I . . . don’t know Joe . . . I”
Fear surged into Joe’s heart, but nothing happened.
It did not drum in his chest, did not beat wildly. Joe put his hand up to the
spot where he knew his heart should be. Nothing! No thump. No beat. No rise and
fall of his chest, yet he struggled to breathe.
Panic set in. It was at that instant that he felt
it. The strong, yet gentle, and callused hand of his older brother carefully
took his slimmer shaking hand into his, squeezing it with tender hope,
confidence, courage and understanding care.
Immediate relief flooded Joe’s body. He squeezed back.
“Gulp! . . . A-Adam . . .?”
“Yes, Joe?”
“ Am I?. . . are You? . . . ” a whispered question stood between them.
“Adam?”
“Yes, Joe?”
“I . . . I can’t feel my heart. It . . . it’s not
beating!” his voice trembled. Little Joe Cartwright again touched where he knew
his heart should be beating. His body felt cold and hard. His hand, when he
held it close to his face, looked pale. His fingertips were blue. Desperately
he peered into the misty fog. His right hand still seemed to be clinging to
Adam’s yet he could not see more than a vague shadow that floated in and out as
the mist moved and pulsed around them.
“Adam?” . . . He timidly asked what he dreaded.
“Is your heart beating?” Please say, yes! He prayed. A funny feeling flittered in the fog.
When he prayed, it seemed to brighten
and become warmer.
“N-n-no . . . Joe it isn’t.” The grip on Joe’s hand
tightened considerably.
“Ohhhooooo, noooooo,” Joe sobbed.
“Adam? . . . we . . . we . . . Are we . . . Dead?” There, he had said it.
His entire being quaked, tears welled up and spilled down his face as he put his
hand up to wipe them away. Yet he felt nothing; there was no wetness.
Nevertheless, he was sure he could feel tears rolling down his face.
“I . . .
“Ohhhh GOD . . . ” The mist began to glow brighter
still, but something told Adam he must go forward. With great trepidation, he
edged toward what compelled him in that direction, firmly clutching Joe’s
trembling hand in his, so like the many times he’d done it in the past. Joe
reluctantly let himself be pulled along slightly behind his elder brother.
A long shiny corridor stretched before them. It was
a few minutes before either spoke again. It was Joe, who broke the eerie, yet
comforting, silence.
“Adam,” he softly began. He was just able to see the
form of his brother slightly ahead of him in the mist. The brighter fog was in
front of them and a soft dove gray behind when he chanced a look back.
“Ar. . . aren’t there supposed to be Angels here to
meet us?. . . and, and.” Anxiously he chewed on his lower lip, as he ran his
hand through his hair, never noticing it was stiff and unresponsive.
“You . . . you . . . told me there would be Angels .
. . Th-that Angels greet you when you die and go to heaven . . . that the
Angels came and carried Mama to heaven for God
. . . You told me that . . . ”
“Why aren’t there Angels? . . . And Mama!” The panic
once again began to build up in him. He licked his lips and strained with all
his might to see into the mist; twisting all around in every possible position
to see if he could find an Angel. Nothing, nothing but the foggy mist, which
somehow had begun to cool, and the bright light suddenly dimmed. “What if . . . if . . . we ain’t . . . goin’ to . . . ?” His tremble became a quake
that nearly caused him to stumble and fall. Only the firm strong hand of Adam
prevented it.
Adam’s steps seemed to falter. He halted unsure of
his direction as the fog deepened and the light was withdrawn.
“I . . . I don’t know little brother. I just don’t know.” His voice was subdued.
“B . . .b but . . . you gotta know, Adam! You . . .
you . . . you always know!” Joe pleaded. “Adam, I don’t wanna be dead! We . . .
we aren’t goin’ ta heaven are we? . . .are we . . . Gulp!. . .go-goin . .
. to . . . ? To . . . ? I wanna see Paaaa, ohhhhnooooPaaa,
what will happen to Pa, an, an Hoss?” Joe put his hand to his face, again
surprised to find there were no tears to be felt with his hand, yet he was sure
they ran down his cheeks.
“Joe, please little buddy, please d- don’t.” At a
loss as to how to console his baby brother when he could not even see him, and
still understand his own terrible pain, fear and confusion, Adam’s cold
emptiness multiplied.
“C-c-common Joe, we have to go this way, I . . . I
think.” Adam once again took a guarded step forward. He also felt as though
there were tears running down his face but found them nonexistent when he
reached to brush them away. They walked along in silence once again. Joe tilted
his head back to look up and was amazed to see a brilliant blue sky showing through
where the mist appeared to be thinning overhead.
Reassurance surged in him to the point he pulled
Adam to a stop and reached down with his free hand to see what they were
standing on. His eyes went wide, then wild. His hand passed right down below the
spot where his boot rested, into nothing, sheer nothing, but misty cool fog. A
shudder ran through him as he stood back up, emitting a low pitiful moan, he
closed his eyes and shook his head. Adam resumed his unsteady forward movement
gently urging Joe along with him.
What exactly had happened to them was just beyond
Adam’s grasp, floating just out of reach of his subconscious. There had to be a
logical explanation. As he walked, he felt a cold, wet spot form on his chest. He
looked down. A stain was forming. Joe felt it at the same instant. It was
obviously a deadly wound, one that had, no doubt, ended both their existences.
Oddly enough there was no sensation of pain.
This new development compounded Joe’s utter bewilderment.
“Adam?”
“Yes, Joe, “ he answered, his own mind refusing to
function in any reasonable path. He was completely baffled, frantic at finding
himself at a total loss.
“Is dying supposed to hurt?”
“I don’t know . . . I guess it really is a matter of
how you die . . . I mean quick or.” Adam stopped, unsure of how to say the next
part. “Or,” he swallowed “or slow.” he
was finally able to finish.
“Oh, I . . . uh . . . see.” Joe dropped his chin as
low as he could and examined the splotch spreading on his chest; he could not
really see it, just sort of felt what it might look like. “Then . . . then. . .I. . . I . . . guess we . . . we. . . Gulp! . . . died . .
. fast? Ya think Mama died fast? I mean may-maybe she didn’t feel it ether?”
His hopeful question hung in the air.
“No, Joe. Mama did not feel anything. Dr. Martin
said she died instantly. She never knew what happened. She did not hurt, not
for an instant.” Adam hoped with all his heart and soul his answer was correct.
There it was again. The light suddenly glowed
brighter, brighter than before, and the mist felt warm and even more welcoming.
But . . . How . . . How did we . . . gulp! . . . How
di . . . did . . . we Die? . . .Why?. . . what happened to us?. . . And Adam,
what about Pa?”
“I . . .” A sigh so heavily weighted with
resignation, fell rather then flowed, from
The silence between them hung for a long while, as
they trudged onward to whatever lay in the distance and that bright compelling,
light.
Wonderment engulfed them as they approached an
apparent clearing. Here the warmth swelled inexplicably.
Still unable to see into the mist or get any closer
to each other than grasping hands, Adam and Joseph Cartwright stood awestruck.
A sensation of being in the presence of an overwhelming power charged with
infinite ability, omnipotent and eternal coursed through them.
“Adam,” Joe instinctively whispered with utmost
reverence to the being that surrounded them, “I. . . I think . . . I . . . think . . . is that . . .?”
“Adam . . . ”
The man felt the word in his heart as much as heard his
name spoken with such benevolence overflowing with total all-knowing love and
understanding. Adam raised his eyes, the hazel color awash with crystal tears
of awe that his insignificant existence could not only be noticed, but also
cherished in this way.
“Yes.”
Adam looked down no longer able to face the sweet,
warm glow brighter than anything he could ever imagine, yet not so bright that
he really had to look away. He looked away from shame that his heart stood open
and exposed with all his failings and insecurities in plain view.
Despite the fact Adam was still beyond his sight
cloaked in the folds of this strange foggy mist. Joe, intuitively knew the
changes in his brother’s face, the glow that took over his dark features, how
his eyes seemed to widen to saucer like globes.
“Benjamin Cartwright will never finish his dream faced with the loss of both of you. Eric Cartwright will not be able to bear the burden of his father’s despair . . . Love is the foundation of all Families. When torn asunder by pride or anger, Love is pushed out of the way for evil and jealousy to fester.”
“P-Please.” Adam’s voice was choked and very
childlike as he offered his plea.
“Please.” It was whispered almost wordlessly. “Let
my little brother live. Send him back. My father needs him, has many things yet
to share with him. Hoss has things he has not had the chance to show him, as I
showed Hoss. Please do not deny them because of my stubborn heart.”
Joe felt the sting in his chest. He knew he was as
much to blame as Adam. His own hot angry words and thoughts cut deep into his
now naked soul.
“Adam, nooo, I can’t go back without you!”
“Yes . . .yes you can Joe. You have so many
unfinished things waiting for you,” his quiet voice willing Joe to understand
his request.
The same baby anguish that raged in Little Joe when
Adam left for
“You don’t want me here! You want all this for
yourself! You don’t LOVE ME! If you really did, you would want me to be as
happy as this will make you!”
“Joe, please. It isn’t like that. Don’t you see,
little brother? It . . . it . . . it is because of how much I love you that I
want you to be able to return and do all the wonderful things you are needed to
do.”
“But how can I? I need YOU Adam . . . Only you know.”
Unnerved that he could now see Adam, yet he seemed to be on the other side of
some unseen barrier, helplessly, he looked into Adam’s eyes.
Lips trembling, he sobbed “I . . . I Love you Adam.”
“You will have Hoss. I know how close you two are. He
will take care of you.”
“Ye–yess I Love Hoss, with all I have, but not more
than YOU! . . . Adam . . . Never, more than you. You’re my Big
brother. I could never love anyone, except Pa, more than you.” Joe attempted to
fling himself into
Adam took a step forward, and to his astonishment,
the barrier was gone. He lifted his sobbing little brother into his arms, and
folded him tenderly to his chest, just as he had done countless times over
the years, before they let their inherited matching
stubborn streaks chip little painful nicks into their hearts.
“Oh, baby brother I never closed my heart to you,
not really, it . . . it. Well . . . I guess somehow, the door that swings both
ways between our hearts got hung up on our pride. I do love you little brother,
oh, I so love you . . . ” Adam caressed the now soft curls on Joe’s head and
leaning in, he kissed his brother lovingly on the forehead. It did not matter
that Joe was 18, and he a few years older, well more than a few. He wrapped Joe
tighter in his embrace. Little Joe wrapped himself around Adam clinging as
tight as possible. He buried his face in Adam’s neck, light and warmth
encircled them.
Adam’s mind filled with a quote, “No Greater love a
man has then to give up his life for that of his brother.” Blinking back tears,
he nodded. He would gladly give up his place on earth to ensure Joe would be
granted a long full life.
************************************************************************************
Ben Cartwright rode down through the mountains, eager
to be home. A faint sound like a voice calling brought his attention to the
road ahead. Looking up he noticed a rider coming in his direction. He was still
quite high up and wondered what the horse and rider would be doing here and
what mission they were on, for the rider seemed to be racing death itself. The truth would soon shake Ben’s very
foundation, and, up until now, his unshakable faith in the mercy and wisdom of
his Almighty God.
Hoss Cartwright had come in from the range, cold and
in need of rest. Instead he was bombarded with wild frantic pleas from their
housekeeper and a few ranchlands who had been around when the explosion between
Adam and Joe had erupted. When he finally got a clear picture of what had
transpired, Hoss set right out, in search of his feuding brothers, along with
the supplies Hop Sing had demanded he take with him, hoping against hope he
would not be too late. From the sounds of the reports, this was the worst they
had ever seen.
Fear and unexpected relief flooded Hoss’s face as he
recognized the rider up ahead fear because he would have to relate what he had
been told, and relief that whatever he might find, he would not have to do it
alone. Pa was the only other person in the world who could back down his older
brother or defuse the explosive temper of his little brother.
Upon recognizing his son, Ben senses came instantly
alert. That inexplicable feeling of dread that had hovered over him slammed
back into his soul
“Pa . . . Pa” he called waving his hat wildly as he
raced up. Ben grabbed Hoss by the coat as Chubb skidded to a halt.
Totally out of breath Hoss gasped “B-bboy am I ever
glad to see you! I can’t believe I ran
into you . . . Gasp!. . .Pa . . . ” His
eyes conveyed what he did not want to have to voice out loud.
“Easy, boy, slow down . . .take a breath and tell me
what in the name of God is the matter. It ‘s your brothers, isn’t it? Which
one?”
Ben’s stomach rebelled; a cold sweat broke out under
his heavy winter coat. “Joseph” he whispered, his entire body trembling, his
eyes involuntarily filled with unspoken pain.
“W-well, yeah, Pa, sort-a.” Hoss swallowed, not
wanting to go further, but Ben already guessed.
“Adam?” All Hoss could do was nod.
Ben crumpled in his saddle; he nearly slid off, but
Hoss’s quick grab held him in place.
“Nooo.” his voice barley above a hoarse whisper.
“How? . . .Where?” Suddenly he grabbed Hoss with a
frightening iron like grip, his deep brown eyes sparking fire.
“I dunno,
“Where? Why?
Hoss I demand you tell me right now what happened to your brothers!” Ben then
released Hoss and yanked the reins holding Chubb in his place. Hoss’s blue eyes
filled; he winced at the expression on his father’s face. The fury was enough
to cower anyone, but his middle son did not have time to fear his father.
Something inside him was driving him with relentless power. His brothers were
in mortal peril and needed him . . .NOW!
“Pa I dun tole ya, we gotta go. Now!” with that he
pulled free and sent Chubb flying recklessly into the stand of Ponderosa Pines
that dotted the steep hillside up
It was Cochise who first caught the familiar scent
on the air, of the steam from Chubb’s body as he clattered wildly up the steep
hillside churning and floundering in the deepening snow. Cochise’s shrill
whinny was picked up by Sport tethered to a bunch of scrub brush a few yards
away.
Hoss crested the snow-covered rise and pulled to a
halt, jumping off to study the ground around and under the great Pine trees.
The snow had blown over and back across any signs left. Hoss’s trained eyes
were not fooled. He began to walk slowly
around the entire area, totally in tune to his senses, telling him he must
hurry. Ben reined in and jumped off, first checking Joe’s horse then Adam’s
dismayed then angered to find that in this high altitude, never mind the cold,
both boy’s horses’ had been ridden hard and left un attended. Both boys’
jackets were hanging from the horns of each saddle. He grabbed first one then
the other when Hoss’s frightened voice called out to him.
“Pa, you better get over here right quick!”
There was such trepidation and horror in his voice
Ben dropped the jackets and skidded over the bumpy, icy snow to where Hoss
stood staring dumbly at the half-buried gun belts and hats now reappearing as
the snow shifted with the direction of the wind.
Ben sank to his knees. With his bare hands he dug wildly at the items, when he had them all exposed he
sank back onto his seat and holding them in his numb
and trembling hands looked up to his middle son for some . . . any . . . possible answer that might make even the
slightest bit of sense. Hoss wordlessly shook his head. Mouth forming words
that never came out.
Out of nowhere a great gust whipped through the boughs
in the huge trees, they shook and swirled violently. The whine and roar of the
wind was split by a loud crack. Simultaneously a strange, almost X-shaped
branch broke from near the top and plummeted to earth driving one end deeply
into the uneven pile of snow just down the side of a small almost un-noticeable
ravine. When the wind suddenly died, and the branch ceased its shuddering dance
it came to stand still throwing a ghostly shadow of a pine needled cross over
the mound.
Ben stared for a minute then sprang to his feet. He
knew! . . .A cold shard of ice pierced his heart. Stumbling, scrambling he
crossed the distance to the mound and began to dig with such fury Hoss feared
for his sanity . . .
“Hoss, Ben called over his shoulder, “Don’t just
stand there, help me! . . .We have to get them out!”
And he dug with more fervor.
Stunned into immobility for the moment, Hoss could
only watch as his father used his hands to dig into the mound, throwing large
chunks of icy snow in all directions. Then an indescribable feeling overwhelmed
him, he shrugged off his big brown coat. Tossing his hat aside pushing his
gasping father out of the way he used his massive gloved-covered hands, to tear
into the snow. Frightened and hopeful at what he might find. Hoss felt his
heart shudder urging him to hurry. Hurry,
hurry pounded the pulse in his head and chest. He dug as fast and as hard
as he could. He had dug down a good 2 feet his shirt covered with sweat, his
arms ached. Just when he felt he would collapse from exertion and lack of
breath, he removed a chunk of snow to reveal a small patch of frozen black
cloth.
“Paaaaaaa” The sound was ripped from his throat as
he dove into his chore with a wild frenzy. Ben was again at his side and both
worked with every fiber of their being, until they had the body completely
uncovered.
Ben fell back against the side of the ravine. He
covered his face with his numb shaking hands, and wept; his body racked with
his sobs. Hoss, gasping himself, leaned down on the opposite side and wept just
as openly. His big face all squinted up in pain, he could barely stand to let
himself look down on the frozen form of his older brother, face down, air
stirring snow crystals over the frozen black hair. However, as horrid as this
was, the fact his younger brother was buried under Adam all but crushed his
heart, for all that was visible was his leg.
What could have happened? Ben let his eyes dully
travel over his son’s frame. Whatever it was, the one thing was clear. They had
their arms wrapped tightly around each other and Adam was obviously shielding
Joe from whatever it was that took their lives. So it was even in death that,
Adam did his very best to protect and shelter his baby brother. The only tiny,
miserable consolation was, Ben knew they had faced it together. Whatever had
transpired earlier in the day, in the end, his sons had stuck together.
Ben rose shakily, his mind and body, his mind from
shock, his body from cold and shock. Kneeling near Adam’s side, he gently
attempted to untangle the frozen arms holding on to Adam in order to roll him
off Joe. Once Adam was free his father could not help notice the fact for
whatever the reason, Adam’s eyelashes were caked with ice, as if they were full
of tears at the end. His face was gray and his lips blue.
It was pointless, Ben knew. Deep in his heart, he knew. But he was first
a father, and this father could not just accept the glaring evidence. Reaching
out with fingers and hands too numb to really feel, he placed a trembling hand
on Adam’s face, running it down the side. His eyes blurred with tears. He
placed his ear to his son’s nose and mouth in a vain hope of detecting a breath
no matter how faint. Desperate, he leaned down to place his ear to Adam’s chest
ignoring the frozen, icy feeling. Closing his eyes, he strained to hear
something, anything that would tell him there was a spark of life in that
frozen body. Then to Ben’s added horror, he noticed the stain, right in the
middle of Adam’s Chest. Slowly shaking his head no, he looked up into Hoss’s expectant face to see the hope fade
into a sob.
Carefully he and Hoss moved the stiff cold body so
Ben was able to sit in the snow between his two sons. Looking down on the pale
face of his youngest, Joe’s beautiful curls frozen to his forehead, Ben was
aghast to find himself looking into the deep emerald green gold specked hazel
eyes, wide open. His heart screamed as he realized that the stain on Adam
exactly matched the deep red one on Joe.
Still unwilling to accept the terrible evidence, Ben
had to acknowledge it appeared they both shared the same wound, as if it was
caused by one single injury that occurred at the same time in both. But how?
Ever so carefully he worked each of his arms around
one then the other and gathered them both at the same time to himself. Hoss
knelt by his feet. As he rocked his babies, Ben looked heavenward for some
guidance, or, at least an answer he could live with.
“Please, Almighty Father, just let me know why? . .
.Why? . . .Why did you need both of them at the same time, and why right now?
Is it because they weren’t getting along too well? Is this your solution? If
so, I can’t help but tell you, Lord; I can’t agree with you, but I have learned
long ago not to question your decision. But Oh, God, it hurts.”
Hoss sobbed brokenly as he listened to his father’s
desperate prayer, and could not help add his own painful wondering.
“God, I know I ain’t got no right to ask ya, but, my
Pa . . . he . . .
he suffered more en’most, and
ifn’ ya had ta take one of us, I sure am wishin’ right now it was me, n’stead
of my brothers.”
Almost instantly, the breeze faded. The air became
very still. The sunlight shone brighter and warmer with an almost unearthly
glow.
************************************************************************************
“Love . . .Love is the glue that binds hearts, families, and brothers. Sometimes, the fear of loss of that love will bring it back into the forefront and make it burn clear and bright in the hearts of those who truly love one another deeply, unselfishly and without reservation. Yielding to that love with their whole heart, not holding back even the smallest part, verifying their unshakable faith in one another.
“Joseph.”
Joe
trembled with fear and awe. “There
are Angels all around. You cannot see them, only because it is not your time,
but know they are watching over you . .
. ”
“ Now, Adam and Joseph Cartwright, Go back to your father and brother who love you beyond the earthly bonds that hold them, and go back carrying with you the love you have both uncovered in your own hearts for each other.”
class=Section2>
*************************************************************************************
class=Section3>
Despite paralyzing grief that threatened to rob him
of all feeling, Ben found the cold seep deeper into his body. He gently lay
both boys down and prepared to have Hoss help him get them out of this snowy
grave. As he attempted to get his feet under him, Ben inadvertently pressed
down on Adam’s chest. The response startled and almost sent him crashing down
on top of his sons.
A soft gurgling groan slipped from the slightly open
mouth, as Ben’s hand compressed the frozen shirtfront to his son’s chest. Unwilling to believe it,
Ben Cartwright suddenly felt the slightest tremor, then the faint yet distinct
thud of Adam’s heart, sluggish and erratic, as it began to beat.
Ben opened his mouth but nothing came out. Hoss
looked at him, not knowing what to make of his father’s expression. Ben went
ghostly white.
After the initial shock, Ben got his wits about him,
Opening the front of his own coat, he gathered Adam in his arms, rocking,
hugging and crying, as the slow heart began to beat stronger and stronger.
Realizing he had one miracle, dare he hope he might be granted two?
“Hoss,” he hissed,
. . . “J. . . J. . . Joe!. . .L.
. .look at Joe,” he stuttered. Hoss, still unsure his father had not lost his
mind, obeyed and wiping his eyes, he leaned close to his brother. To his great
joy, when he placed his hand on Joe’s chest, Joe’s mouth opened and a whisper
of breath slipped out. His heart, too, began to beat once, twice, then again,
and again.
**************************************************************************************
Joe was dazed beyond understanding. Something had
just slammed into him. His entire body jolted up, then crashed back to earth.
He had the sensation of falling at great speed, tumbling, unable to stop or right
himself. Faster and faster he fell, as if he were streaking past the heavens
and stars on a collision course with some unseen destiny.
At that exact instant the same earthly terror, yet
heavenly calm was jolting his older brother.
With a great gasp, both Cartwright brothers drew in
a breath; first Adam, then Joe. For another instant both lay still, senses
reeling, heads spinning, not quite sure which world they were in, neither
wanting to hope, or know if they were there without the other. Adam being the
man he was, his mind more readily returning to reality, began to access his
body. First there was the numb, then the tingle, the sting, his fingers, toes,
hands, feet, then the feeling of warmth, arms tightly encircling him, willing
him to wake further. Pain! . . . a
number of kinds of pain.
“Uhhhhhh,” he forced a groan from his stiff lips.
Cold wet rain fell onto his face, as cold scratchy something stroked his cheek.
A deep hoarse voice called to him, begging him, encouraging him, so familiar,
so full of warmth.
Adam blinked, then slowly blinked his fuzzy eyes
again to clear his vision. It wasn’t rain!
. . . tears, it was his father’s tears. He wanted to reach up and touch
him, tell him not to cry, but he was still in the grasp of whatever it was that
had taken him away. He tried to speak, but his father put his finger gently on
his cold lips.
“Hush, hush, son, it’s all right, Adam. I’m right
here . . . Pa’s right here . . . I have you, you are safe.” Careful of the
wound in his son’s chest, he gently folded Adam closer to himself, pressing his
cheek into the frozen hair.
“I’m right here, boy! Just relax . . . you have been
hurt, you need to be still . . . I know you are cold, but for now just be
still, and let me start to warm you.” Ben started to shrug out of his coat and
as he looked up, he was struck with fear.
Hoss had Joe wrapped in his massive arms, yet there
seemed to be no movement or life in his youngest son. Had he imagined it? Was
Adam the only miracle he was to have? Hoss was sobbing softly, big tears
spilled down from his blue eyes as he rocked back and forth slowly, cradling
the cold body to his chest.
“Ummmfff,” The muffled sound caused Hoss to almost
dropped Joe; he was so startled. Slowly he unfolded his little brother, and
looked into the green and gold of Joe’s wide, confused eyes.
For a long minute, Joe stared. He was so cold that
he was unable to even shiver. His fingers began to sting, then his toes. Slowly
he blinked. Tears slid from his eyes. Hoss grinned widely shaking his head in
an affirmative way.
“Yeah, little brother . . . it’s me, yer lookin at,
and Man! . . . Boy! . . .
If you ain’t the best thing I ever seen, right about now sept,” he
tilted his head slightly to indicate his father. Ben, sobbing as he smiled gratefully,
with a shaking hand, let go of Adam to reach over and squeeze Joe’s cold, stiff
hand.
“Hello, Son, welcome back.” He spoke in broken,
halting words, emotion threatening to totally overwhelm him for the third time
in the past thirty minutes, going from deepest despair to soaring heights of
elation.
All Joe could do was nod, then close his eyes. That
strange feeling still lingered, and he felt tired, sooooo tired.
“Pa, we can’t stay here.”
Hoss broke through Ben’s turmoil. No longer able to trust
his own judgment, his face registered first denial replaced by confirmation
laced with hope. He looked up from Adam.
“W-hat?”
“Pa, they are hurt, hurt bad as far as I can see. We
gotta get em’ warm, Pa, en’ fast too!”
Hoss once again gathered Joe close, as he felt his
brother’s slim body, convulse with great shivers.
Reluctant to let go, yet knowing Hoss was right, Ben
slipped out from under Adam leaning him slowly into Hoss. Ben scrambled up the
little bank and made it to the spot where he had dropped the boys’ jackets.
They were cold and snowy but better than nothing for the moment, until he could
form a plan. Tossing the jackets down to Hoss, he went back to where they left
the horses to retrieve their blankets and the pack Hop Sing had insisted Hoss
take with him. Returning once again, he looked down on the scene and almost
lost his breath and footing. Hoss sat with both his brothers on either side of
him, pulled as close as he dared to offer his warmth. New tears spilled from
Ben’s eyes. Angrily he pushed them away, no time for that now. Now he had to
get his boys home, and fast!
But, how? Not knowing what caused their wounds,
fearing they were gunshots, he hesitated to hold them in a saddle . . . A
travois? . . . maybe? but one that would hold both of them together, they
needed to stay warm, and while neither of them had much warmth to give each
other it was better than nothing.
“Hoss, after we get them warm, I think a travois
that will hold them both is the only way to go, and keep them comfortably warm
and resting. What do you think?”
“Sounds like the right thing,
With that he chuckled, and as gently as he could,
hugged both his brothers to him. Slowly letting them down, he scooted away to
shrug into his coat, now shivering uncontrollably himself, unknowingly giving
Adam and Joe the first real clear glimpse of each other since they had fallen
into the ravine and whatever else they had fallen into . . .
Joe made an attempt to speak, but his teeth were
chattering way too hard, and his jaw was aching from clamping down to stop the
chattering. He tried to get his hand out of the jacket Hoss had tucked in
around him, but Adam beat him to it. Shaking just as hard as Joe, he managed to
stop Joe’s movement, and with trembling fingers, re-tucked the jacket around
his little brother. With supreme effort, he managed, just ever so slightly, to
shake his head no. Then blinking at
Joe, he lay back and closed his eyes.
The mist swirled around in their heads, the cold,
warm, frightening, welcoming, mist, the light . . . then the jostling stirred
them back to consciousness, or the edge of it, to be more precise. Ben was
gathering them both to him as Hoss quickly worked to get a fire going and heat
some coffee. Adam and Joe were content to let themselves hover there in the
space between awake and asleep, both knowing the other was all right and safe
for now. Knowing that Pa and Hoss would take care of them gave them both a
sense of peace.
Neither Adam nor Joe roused for more than one or two
moments all the way home. Both continued to shake, uncontrollably, cramming
their bodies as close to each other as possible in a desperate attempt to glean
the slightest bit of warmth from the other. It was on the long road to the
ranch they happened on Peter, one of the hands, who was instantly dispatched,
to town for the doctor.
**************************************************************************************
Hoss and Ben Cartwright waited anxiously. Ben paced,
occasionally stopping to study his bruised, scraped hands and fingers. Hoss
poked the fire endlessly, sending sparks up the chimney and ashes swirling up
threatening to fly out into the room. Ben, under normal circumstances, would
have grabbed the poker from Hoss, big as he was, and with a stern glare declare
“Do You Mind! . . Or do you intend to set my house on fire?” However, he never
noticed. He only stared at the floor in front of him as he paced. It had been
hours, horrid agonizing hours, since he and Hoss had gotten Adam and Joe home;
the doctor had refused to let them stay as he worked on the brothers. In spite
of everything said, Adam and Joe refused to be separated until able to see for
themselves each was truly there and would not only survive, but, be all right.
With a great sigh, Paul Martin straightened up. Hop
Sing gave him one of his looks. Shaking his head, he shrugged his shoulders.
Both were used to working with each other over Cartwrights more often then they
cared to count right now. Both wore the same baffled expression. Once again
making sure Adam and Joe were resting as comfortably as possible, Paul picked
up a small, very thin, deeply stained object, and nodding to Hop Sing, set
about reporting his findings to the men waiting downstairs who were desperate
to know the outcome of his findings.
Only thing was, how to explain this? Medical science, in its infancy,
was not ready to absorb what he had found. In fact, medical science long into
the future would be stunned and hard pressed to explain his findings.
Slowly he headed down the hall, mind racing to put
the puzzle pieces in place and get his face set before he met the eyes and questioning
faces below.
Ben knew something was terribly wrong the moment
Paul appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Paul . . . ” He whispered grabbing the post at the
bottom of the stairs.
Hoss immediately came and stood at his back, big
trembling hands on his father’s shoulders.
“Ben . . . ” the doctor stopped, he got himself
together before coming all the way down the stairs. How does one explain? How
could he explain something he himself could not comprehend.
“Paul . . .Please . . . ” Ben begged, his face
white, fingers tensely gripping the post.
Paul just shook his head, eyes wide, a completely
dumbfounded expression on his face. It was not until Hoss Cartwright, unable to
control his fear, grabbed the man and shook him for all he was worth.
.
“Y–You—tell me right now Doc! What’ s wrong with my
brothers, and by God you better have some good news!
The sound of Dr., Martins bones rattling snapped Ben
back; he forced Hoss to release his hold.
“Hoss! Stop!
Whatever are you doing, boy?”
Hoss dropped the doctor. With his face flaming, he
stuttered an apology.
When Paul could once again breath and his head
stopped spinning, he patted the big man on the arm. Clearing his throat, “Uh,
ahem, I understand, Hoss. I apologize myself. I guess I gave you the wrong
impression, but maybe you both better sit down.”
“No, not until you tell me my sons are alive.”
“What? ... oh, Ben, I’m sorry, yes of course they
are alive, both sleeping quietly at the moment.”
Ben sank into the blue chair. Head in his hands he thanked
God. Then looking up, he thanked the doctor too.
“But, Paul, I mean . . . the look on your face, you
were . . . are pale . . . Hoss, get Paul a glass of brandy. ”
Paul Martin’s hands shook slightly as he took the
first sip. As it worked its magic, he took a deep breath,
“Ben, I have seen many things as a doctor. Some I
can explain . . . some I can guess at . . . and some simply defy . . .logic . .
. this . . . this . . . defies all medical knowledge I know of and all logic .
. . The best I can say is that this is .
. . truly and absolutely, a miracle. I know I have seen people overcome
obstacles, to recover from what must be certain death, your sons among them.”
He paused to chuckle, and take another sip to fortify himself.
Ben’s brow furrowed into a deep frown, as Paul
placed a thin sliver of wood into his palm. It was stained a deep red, narrow
and almost perfectly round, like a dowel, or tiny arrow shaft, but in truth was
neither.
“I almost missed it, believing at first the boys had
each been shot. Then I realized both wounds were way too small to be made by
bullets. Joe’s entered his back. Oh! You
weren’t aware of that?”
Raising his eyes, Ben spoke softly, “Go on, Paul.”
“Adam had an entry wound not an exit wound. This
was, as you can guess, very perplexing to me. As I was cleaning the hole in
Adam’s chest, I must have moved it because he groaned loudly. On closer
inspection, I discovered the end of this . . . ” he pointed to the wood. “After further, gentle probing I was able to
ascertain it had not done any permanent or life threatening damage, so I slowly
withdrew it.” He hesitated, then swallowing the last of his brandy, finished
with a hushed awe-filled whisper.
“Somehow, and only GOD knows how, and I mean ONLY!
GOD knows how, this sliver, dart, piece, whatever you wish to call it . . .
went right through Joe, never touching anything vital, and stopped just short
from entering Adam’s heart! N-no . . .don’t look at me that way, and don’t ask
me for any other explanation . . . I have none . . . none that anyone including
myself would ever believe. Just be grateful Ben, . . . not many men in this
life have been lucky to witness, much less be part of this kind of sign from
God. You are a blessed man, Ben Cartwright, and I feel humble to be part of
this, and stand in your presence. God loves you and your boys more than you, or
anyone can ever know. May I take a piece of this with me? Oh, and when the boys
wake up, I gave them something for the pain, give them plenty of liquids.”
“Ben, I can’t understand it! Buried under all that
snow! . . .for how long? Deprived of
air! No signs of brain damage?. . . not one single sign of frostbite! . . . no
chest congestion! . . . yes, indeed! . Very special boys you have, Ben . . .
special indeed . . . you too, Hoss . . . You still haven’t told me how you knew
where to look for them?”
A strange look came over Hoss’s face. His clear blue
eyes looked far away. After taking a long deep breath, he exhaled and shrugging
his shoulders, pushing his hands into his front pockets he replied, “Idunno’
jest somethin’ in here,” he pointed to his head . . . “and in here . . . ” he pointed to his chest.
“I. . . I just knew!” he looked to his beloved father to confirm his feelings
that he did not quite understand.
Tears burning his eyes, Ben wrapped his arm around
Hoss’s shoulder . . . ”Don’t worry Hoss. HE
. . .knew where they were and they needed you . . . that’s how you knew . . . ”
Still shaking his head, Paul Martin went to the
credenza and pulled on his coat, “Send for me if you need me . . . if not,
Ben crossed the room after snapping the wood, and he
gave Paul a small portion, at the same time shaking his hand in deep
appreciation to him as a friend and doctor and for his acknowledgment of just
how very special his sons were to him, and each other. Shutting the door behind
the doctor he looked over to Hoss who was staring up at the ceiling, big blue
eyes wide and wondering.
Turning to his father he asked, “Ya really think so
Pa? . . .I mean I ain’t no . . . ”
“Yes, I really think so, Eric . . . and Yes, you
are, just as much as they are . . . now lets go up and see them so Hop Sing can
start to make all that good food to get them back to themselves.”
“Ya mean so’s they can pick up where they left off .
. . a fussin and a feudin’?”
Shaking his head, Hoss started up the stairs. Ben
went to follow then went back to the table and picked up the remaining wood,
snapping it one last time into four tiny sections. With a sign, he tucked them
into his vest pocket, and followed Hoss upstairs.
Quietly they entered Hoss’s room. Hop Sing looked up
from tucking the covers tighter around his charges. Nodding, he grunted and
bowing slightly to Ben he whispered, “I go fix broth, need much warm broth to
get bettah.”
Ben smiled, “Yes, Hop Sing, and I know you will do
all in your power to help get them back to health. I thank you.”
“No need thank. Hop Sing want to care for his boys.”
He blushed, suddenly looking very guilty, and covering his mouth, he backed
quickly out the door shutting it behind him.
A sparkle bloomed and then died in Ben’s eyes as he
let his gaze go from Hop Sing to the still forms lying side by side, shoulders
touching in Hoss’s massive bed.
Funny, he
thought absently, how little even Adam looked tucked into Hoss’s bed. The
sparkle returned, “Hmmm, I doubt very much Adam, at this point in life, would relish
or put up with such reference.”
Hoss stood on the opposite side of the bed staring
down on his brothers. He just could not get enough of them, then his face
scrunched up. “Pa?”
“Yes,” Ben whispered as he settled down ever so
lightly on the bedside, to reach out and brush Joe’s curls.
“Where em’ I gonna sleep? . . . mean, I’d never fit in that bed of Little
Joe’s . . . and it’s danged sure I ain’t gonna mess up Adam’s bed, no sireeee.
You know how perticulr’ he is ‘bout us goin’ in his room thout’ his say so or
messin’ with his stuff!”
Tilting his head, Ben leaned over Joe to touch the
side of Adam’s face. A small father’s smile twitched the corner of his lips.
“Oh, I don’t think he will mind just this once,
under the circumstances . . . but if it will make you feel better, you go sleep
in my bed. I . . . uh, . . . think you will be able to manage . . .
”
Hoss blushed in his sweet way, a soft rumbling
chuckle shook him, his eyes danced. “Geee Pa, can I . . . can I really?” he
teased in his best childlike voice.
“Yes, but only if you are a good little boy, and
promise your Pa not to touch things. And wash up good and proper, oh and . . .
don’t . . . ” Ben let his dark brows rise and fall in a meaningful way, trying
not to laugh out loud at the incredulous look on Hoss’s bright red face.
“Pa! How could you think . . . ” he stuttered . . .
”I mean . . . I would never . . . I ain’t done that in . . . in . . . ”Hoss
continued to flounder and sputter, until he saw the grin on Ben’s face.
“
But it had done the trick. This little moment of
levity had dissolved some of the somber and worrisome weight from both their
shoulders, and it sure did feel good to be able to laugh, or at least chuckle,
given what they had just come through and what they still had to face.
Getting up, Ben went around to Hoss and once again
placed his arm around the big shoulders and hugged. Both stood in silence, lost
in individual thanks one more time to the God who saw fit to return these loved
ones, grateful for the chance to be whole again.
Letting his arm finally drop, Ben sighed deeply.
Hoss glanced sideways at him.
“Pa, why don’t you go get some rest. After all, you
just had a long, cold ride, before these two yahoos pulled one of their stunts.
I’ll sit with em’ a spell.”
Ben put up his hand to stop Hoss but the young man
would not be put off, “No, now Pa, you listen to me!”
The rise of the dark brows and deepening color of
the brown eyes was all it took. Hoss faltered in his command.
“Well, at least will ya go get a hot cup of coffee,
and change into some clean, dry clothes. What will Adam and Joe think if they
wake up an’ see ya in that state? Specially after the way yer always at us fer
not looking pre-sent-able.”
Realizing he had the upper hand, Hoss let his own
brow rise and fall as he rocked back on his heels, smirking.
Ben formed a fierce scowl, wagging a finger at his
son. “All right boy, you win. But, I’m
warning you . . . don’t go getting’ uppity and bossy with me,” he chuckled
jabbing his thumb in the direction of the dark-haired man sleeping in the bed.
“I have enough trouble with him as it is!”
With a loving wink, Ben slipped out into the hall.
As he shut the door, he looked up toward heaven, “Thank you Inger, for such a
blessing for myself, and his brothers.”
Still chuckling to himself at his daring challenge
to his father, Hoss settled into the chair he placed next to his bed to keep
watch over his sleeping brothers, to ponder the events of the day, and do a
little soul searching in the process.
**************************************************************************************
Awareness crept into his consciousness, yet he lay
perfectly still. He was waking up, of that much he was sure. Just exactly how he
got to this place was still dancing tantalizingly beyond his grasp. First he
sensed another - near - no - not near -
right next to him, of that he was also sure. There was someone very close to
him. They were touching shoulders. He was finally warm. It was soft, yet there
was a distinct discomfort. It was now a matter of sorting out and sifting
through each feeling to decide if it was dream? Imagination? Hallucination?. .
.Or, in the end reality.
The room glowed with a lamp set very low. With great
reservation, he dared lift his head. Turning to the right he saw a profile
outlined next to him in the predawn. Sighing heavily, he rested his head back
on the soft pillow. He tilted his head back to study the headboard. Curiously
he let his eyes trace the carving and massive height.
“Hummmm,”
He shifted, and woke the one next to him. They both
turned at the same moment and stared openly into each others eyes with fear,
confusion, joy, questions . . . all at the same time.
“Adam?” It came out as a raspy whisper.
“Yeah,” the reply was equally raspy.
“Are- are–w-we st-st-still dead?”
“Don’t think so . . . I can feel my heart. It’s
beating. As a matter of fact, it appears to be racing at the moment.”
“Yeah, mine tooo . . .Thank God!. . . ” That warm
tingle appeared, then in the same instant was gone.
“ Do you recognize this place?”
“Uh, Huh”
Joe peered into the soft lamp glow, as best he was
able over Adam. It hurt to move, more than raising his head just above the
pillow.
“Th-this . . . this is . . ., is Hoss’s room?”
“Yeah,” Adam felt sooo tired; it was all the
conversation he was capable of at the moment. Closing his eyes he muttered, “Go
back to sleep, Joe . . . talk. . . ‘bout
it. . .later,” he trailed off.
“Kay,” and Joe slipped back into sleep.
Ben slept in the chair beside the bed. Neither boy
saw him. And he was unaware they had awakened or had spoken.
Both Adam and Joe woke at different intervals to
take some of Hop Sing’s broth but never long enough to speak or even do more than
blink sleepily before returning to the deep healing slumber that called them
back.
It was sometime during the night a few days later
when they both woke with a start, muscles twitching, faces covered with sweat.
Joe reached out and grabbed Adam’s hand, mouth clamped tight to hold in the
desire to scream. He felt the same tremors wracking Adam. Unable to fight the
overpowering need to cry, Joe turned into Adam and wept openly and deeply. Adam
pulled him close, holding Joe’s head on his chest as his own chest heaved with
the sobs he fought to suppress.
“Don’t . . . don’t do it, Adam. Remember . .
. what you have been given . . . don’t throw this gift into your God’s face;
you may never get this chance again . . . ” the voice was stern it echoed in
his head, he gasped.
“N-noo” he stuttered “I . . . I . . . won’t . .
. I —re–remember.”
The floodgate opened and Adam cried as hard as Joe,
for love, for forgiveness, and for being given this chance. When both had spent
all they had, they spoke quietly with each other.
“Adam, did we really die?” Joe cautiously, slowly
sat up against the headboard. Adam struggled up next to him, wincing at the
pain in his chest. He placed his hand over the spot and could feel the bandage
under his nightshirt.
“Did we really die?” Adam repeated. He stared
straight ahead; a quivering sigh slid out on his breath.
His mind seemed determined to deny what his heart
insisted to be the truth. As he struggled with himself, he found that as his
mind swayed in the direction of denying the experience, the hurt in his chest
grew in intensity, when he found himself leaning more to the other, it almost
disappeared. The turmoil caused him to grimace, then cover his face in his
hands. He just did not know; he needed his father, needed to hear him say he
was not unbalanced.
“Adam?” Joe was leaning around to peek up into his
brother’s sweaty pale face. Deep concern flooded his eyes. He found himself
brushing Adam’s hair from his forehead, like Adam always did for him. A warm
and gentle smile formed on his handsome young face.
“ I’m, right here . . . ” Adam raised his face to
study that of his baby brother, wonder in his eyes at how young and innocent at
the same time seemingly confident Joe was in this unnerving matter he himself
did not fully trust.
“For once, go with what your heart tells you, cause’
even if no one else on earth ever believes us, we know. . . . .you and me . . . together . . .
where we went . . .besides what is it Pa is always tryin’ to get into that thick
Yankee head? Sometimes your education just gets in the way of your thinking!”
“Pa,” Adam murmured almost too quietly to be heard,
“Pa will believe . . . ”
Joe leaned in and pulled his brother to him so they
touched foreheads. Adam could do nothing but look into those bright green and
gold eyes.
“But don’t
for a minute, big brother, think that this changes anything, no way! I am never
gonna stop pestering, harassing, and driving you crazy . . .Ever!. . .You are
my big brother, Adam, and will always be . . .
an’ I’m always gonna be the kid!. . . always underfoot, always getting
into trouble . . . Right?. . always be
your little buddy . . . Promise me that, Adam . . . Please . . . please promise
me that you will never change . . . never stop . . . ” Tears glistened in Joe’s
eyes; they reflected the one’s in Adam’s.
Adam grabbed Joe around the neck in a tender bear
hug. “Ok. Squirt, it’s a deal but only on one condition. You must give me the
same promise. And to prove it . . .I think I just might have to give you that .
. . ” His twinkling eyes teased as his
entire face lit up and his dimples fairly shone.
“You wouldn’t,
. . . wouldn’t . . . d—d–dare?. .
.would you?” Joe’s voice squeaked as he did his best to get as far from Adam on
the bed as possible. The grin that sprang up in his brothers face turned Joe
pasty greenish white.
“You would. ”
“I would. A
Cartwright never goes . . . ”
“I know, I know, a Cartwright never goes back on his
promise . . . ” Joe gave Adam his best puppy dog look.
“Yes, and little brother, all I am going to tell you
is . . . It will be all in Gods good time, so . . .!”
Joe almost fell out of the bed. Adam relaxed back
into the head board with that maddening half smirk curling the corner of his
mouth. He stretched carefully and put his clasped hands behind his head,
closing his eyes, satisfied.
**************************************************************************************
Two weeks had passed since that near fatal day.
Adam sat in the blue chair. Both he and Joe had been
allowed up for the past two days, but restricted to the house, as the weather
was too cold and snow was mixing with rain.
Joe was lounging on the settee, absently staring
into the flames. Both had agreed not to talk to anyone about what they had seen
and felt, with the exception of Pa and of course Hoss. Each had drawn them
aside privately and confided their fears, questions and belief. They found the
understanding reassurance and confirmation needed to put to rest the nagging
doubts.
Ben came down the stairs just as Hoss came in from
the barn chores, cold wet and grumbling. Hop Sing’s well-timed appearance with
hot coffee and lots of warm cinnamon crumb muffins cleared that right up.
Placing the tray on the table, nodding, he left. Hoss pushed Joe’s feet to the
floor and plopped down, almost popping Joe right off the settee, which brought
a howl of laughter from Adam and Ben, while the howl from Joe was anything but
a laugh.
“S-s-toopppp your killin me!” the words left Adam’s
mouth before he had a chance to realize what he had just said, for the slowly
evolving change in him, was such a pleasure to see.
He looked up stricken, face pale . . . “ I . . . I . . . ” face turning pink he
swallowed.
Ben came around to sit in his chair. “Well, it seems
you three are having a fine old time. When were you planning on letting me in
on this, or were you hoping I did not smell those muffins and have to share
them?” His face stern, his brown eyes held that magic warmth that only he could
generate. It brought the desired results. Hoss stammered his apology, Joe
squeaked out something about it not being his fault, Adam, now recovered gave
him that smug cat and mouse smile.
“Uh, huh. Pour the coffee, Hoss. Joseph, take your
feet off the table. Adam sit up straight and put that book down!”
“Yes, sir!” came the perfectly matching voices.
Later that night as the Cartwrights prepared for
bed, they each fingered the small, once red, now brownish, sliver of wood,
individually contemplating its meaning to them, and each felt the skip of a
heart beat as they heard Ben’s words about it. This sliver tightened their bond
to each other, and all four carried it on their person for the rest of their
days. They found it a comfort more than once, now knowing with absolute conviction
their lives to be in the hands of the Almighty, and all things would proceed
accordingly in Gods good time.
.
The End.
Epilogue:
Paul Martin, MD, had returned to his office that
night in a quiet and reflective mood. As no other emergencies or patients
required his skill, he was able to retire. He was exhausted, mentally and
physically from his call at the Ponderosa.
Sitting at his desk, he lit the lamp, opened the top
draw to the left and drew out his special journal. This journal contained the
most gratifying cases, and the most frustrating, along with the most depressing
and at times, the most defeating. There was, though, a place for those that he
found most confounding. Although Paul Martin was an excellent doctor and
extremely skilled surgeon, there were times when he was left in awe of the
human body, and the life force itself. The wisdom of his Creator, at the same
time, caused him to wonder at what appeared to be cruel and cold. These parts
he tried not to dwell upon. So it was, he set his inkbottle up, and taking pen
in hand began to detail his findings. Stopping to take a sip of warm brandy, he
picked up the small sliver, twirling it in his hand, marveling at the odds
against something like this not only happening but having a positive out come
in the end.
Later, he was told that a bullet did indeed play a
part in the events, for it had missed its intended target and slammed into the
trunk of the pine tree sending splinters of various sizes and thickness in all
directions. Just how this one came off so perfectly, and needle sharp, would
forever remain a mystery.