Lessons Learned


How I spent my Summer Vacation
        By Joe Cartwright


Written by:  Starlite

Little Joe Cartwright looked down at the title he'd just written on the paper before him.  He wondered where he should begin.  He knew that this was always the first homework assignment of the school year, but this time it was harder for him to put the past few months' experiences into words.  


                    *********


Little Joe rode his pinto, Cochise into the yard at almost a gallop.  He was free, free at last from the confines of a stuffy schoolhouse.  Well at least for a couple of months.  Jumping down, he quickly tied his horse to the hitching rail.  Using the belt that bound his schoolbooks and his jacket together, he tossed the now unneeded items towards a hay bale near the opening to the barn.

He could hear the whoops and hollering of the men down near the corral, as a rider attempted to break one of the wild mustangs.  Eager to take part, Joe ran towards the corral.  He was hoping that this summer his father would let him finally participate in the breaking of the wild horses.  He was already more than two years older than Adam had been when he had learned, and a year older than when Hoss had started.  He'd been pestering his father for months over the issue and had always been given the same answer, 'When you grow up'.  Joe felt he was as grown up as he was going to be and hated when his father and brothers kept treating him like a child.  He'd already resigned himself to the fact that he'd probably never be as tall as Adam or as big as Hoss, but he still figured he was grownup enough; afterall, he was 15.

Reaching the corral, Joe watched while one of the old hands carefully mounted a big black mustang.  Even from where he was standing, he could see the fire in the horse's ebony eyes and the power in its' strong frame.  Enthusiastically, Joe joined in encouraging and cheering the rider on, yelling and whooping just as loudly as the other hands.

Adam Cartwright sauntered back towards the corral, he'd just returned from the main house and had spotted his youngest brother's horse in the yard.  Finding his brother's things near the barn and no brother in sight, Adam went in search of Little Joe.  He was not surprised to find him down by the corral, a far distance from where he was supposed to be at the moment.  Adam stopped to watch the wrangler atop the large black stallion as it danced and bucked about the corral.  He winced and even sympathized with the man as he abruptly and unceremoniously landed in the soft dirt of the corral, before clearing his throat to address what he considered the family's biggest shirker.

"Joseph Cartwright!"  Adam intoned in his best imitation of their father.

Joe jumped at the calling of his name.  He was so caught up in the moment; he'd never heard the older man's approach.  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before turning to face what he thought was his father.  He was not amused to find Adam standing before him.

"I believe I hear the horse stalls calling your name."  Adam drolly stated, thumbing his right hand in the direction of the barn.

Joe opened his mouth to protest, but realized starting a fight with his brother at this moment wouldn't win him any favors.  Adam was in charge of the horse breaking, and if he wanted to learn, he couldn't afford to cross Adam now.  Nodding, Joe turned his gaze towards his boots and started toward the barn and the awaiting smelly, dirty stalls.

Adam gave a small grin as his brother passed him.  He knew how badly Joe wanted to learn about breaking horses.  Maybe he'd talk to his father about it.

"And pick up your stuff and put it in the house where it belongs."  Adam called back over his shoulder, remembering that he'd seen where Joe had haphazardly thrown his books and jacket. Adam was always so meticulous in taking care of his belongings and it galled him to see books mistreated in such a fashion.

"Hey Boss man.  Bout time you show'd back up!"  The wrangler who'd just been thrown declared, beating at the dust upon his clothes with his ratty cowboy hat.

"Yeah, where'd ya go?  Off to put some liniment on what ails ya?"  Another of the long-time hands chimed in.  Both of the men knew that Adam had endured an extremely unpleasant ride hours earlier and was probably suffering from a remarkably sore backside.

"Ha Ha."  Adam mocked with a slight sneer, then motioned for the black to be saddled again.  Approaching the chute, he massaged his sore bottom slightly to enjoin the others in their good-natured teasing.  Seeing Adam's reaction, the other hands broke out into gales of laughter.

Little Joe felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his face flush with shame and anger when he heard the laughter drift back towards him from the corral.  He was certain the other hands were mocking the way that he'd been dismissed like a small schoolboy to do a little boy's chores.  He was sick and tired of being treated like a child.  He wanted respect and to be treated like a man, just like his father and brothers.  Joe was even more tired of the way that Adam seemed to belittle him, acting like he was nothing more than a stable boy.

Arriving at the barn, Joe reached out and snatched up his books and jacket from the hay bale.  He yipped when he felt the sharp sting of tiny sharp points biting into the tips of his fingers.  Glancing down, he found a good sized cockle burr had taken up residence in the collar of his jacket.  With care, Joe removed the offending object from his green coat.  He was just about to toss the burr away when a thought occurred to him.  He decided he'd just found a way to give his self-righteous oldest brother his comeuppance.


                    *********


Adam Cartwright slowly strolled out into the yard and approached his mount.  He was taking out one of the new horses that he'd been working with the last couple of weeks.  Sassy was a high-spirited mount, just the way Adam preferred them.  He felt she was going to make a fine cutting pony and a good brood mare.  

The mottled brown mare with black mane turned a wary chocolate brown eye towards her new master when Adam neared her.  She was still getting accustomed to the heavy object astride her back, and shifted nervously under its weight.  The large animal started to calm and settle, hearing Adam's voice gently talking to her while stroking her neck, before checking her cinch.

Adam yawned broadly and mentally tried to shake himself more awake.  He was almost exhausted.  He'd spent most of the previous night, working and re-working a timber contract for the ranch.  His father had previously given up on the proposal, but Adam wasn't so easily discouraged.  This contract would mean a fine feather in the ranch's bonnet, and a good deal of funding that would allow great expansion of the Ponderosa's holdings.  He'd just spent the last hour explaining the details to his father, and was now late getting up to the branding pits to check on their progress.  Though his father hadn't totally dismissed his plan, he only assured Adam that he would study it further.

Adam yawned once more and stretched his stiff shoulders before he reached up and sleepily took the reins into his left hand.  Easily he placed his left booted foot into the stirrup and hefted his well-built frame upwards.  He was just swinging his right leg over the seat of the saddle placing more of his weight onto the back of the mare, when he felt the horse suddenly and violently jerk beneath him.

Little Joe watched from the side of the house near the woodpile.  He'd had the perfect opportunity to place the burr under Adam's saddle blanket when his brother and father drifted off to the desk to discuss some timber contract.  All he had to do was wait for his brother to come out and mount his horse.  Everything was going just as planned.  He even noticed some of the hands milling about, so there would be an ample audience when his brother was unceremoniously dumped by his horse.

Adam was totally caught off guard by the horse's sudden movement.  Not being totally seated, he found his body airborne.  Hitting the ground solidly, Adam was stunned and breathless as he felt all the air rush from his lungs.

Joe brought his hand to his mouth to contain his giggle when Adam went flying.  But his glee quickly turned to horror as the mottle brown mare continued to thrash, kick and stomp.  Unable to scream, unable to run, he was frozen in place watching in disbelief as the mare's front hooves crashed down onto his brother.

Spooked by the prickly pain in its flesh, Sassy whinnied loudly as it continued to balk at the annoyance.  Smashing down the slender forelegs, which were followed by strong swift kicks, the animal wrestled to get free.

A couple of ranch hands that had just exited the bunkhouse watched in stunned silence at the spectacle before them, before rushing forward to try and calm the animal.  

Hearing the terrified whiny of a horse, Hoss ran from the barn where he'd been saddling Chubb to see what was happening.  First he noticed the bucking horse, then the ranch hands trying to carefully approach the animal before his eyes finally fell to the unmoving form of his older brother upon the ground.  Realizing that Adam was in danger of being trampled to death, Hoss rushed forward heedless of the danger to himself.  

Joe continued to stare while the abhorrent scene played out.  He watched while Adam lay motionless and helpless upon the ground.  He observed the ranch hands when they neared the horse, yelling and waving the mare away from his brother's fallen form.  He saw Hoss run from the barn to roll Adam over, then grab him beneath the arms to pull him to safety.  Then he heard the sickening crunch, as the mare's left rear leg crashed into a pine tree that was near the house before the animal cried out in terrible pain.  He heard strong swift steps upon the wooden planking of the porch and viewed his father running from the house toward his fallen son.  The last sound Little Joe heard was of his father ordering one of the hands to ride for the doctor.  His last vision was of Adam's limp form quickly being carried by his father and Hoss into the house.  Closing his eyes, Joe felt all his strength escape his young body before he sank to his knees in shame and guilt.

Joe Cartwright didn't know how long he sat in the dirt leaning against the wooden frame of the house.  His next coherent thought was the anxious arrival of Doc Martin.  Rising to his feet and keeping a well-measured distance, the dazed youngest Cartwright followed the physician into the house and up the stairs.  Uncertain of what he might find and too frightened to enter Adam's room.  Little Joe loitered in the hallway, near the open doorway.  He felt his heart lurch at what he heard next.

"I'm afraid I'll need to amputate."  Paul Martin sadly diagnosed his voice barely audible as he choked on the words.

"God no!  Please don't cut it off.  Please don't!  I'd rather die.  Please Pa, don't let him do it.  Oh God please!"

Little Joe thought his heart would burst hearing his oldest brother's panicked pleas.  He felt hot tears course down his face and began to sob.  All he wanted to do was take his brother down a notch or two, not to destroy him.  Unable to bear anymore of his brother's anguish, Joe ran for the sanctity of his room.


                    *********


"Hold him still Ben."  Doc Martin ordered as he readied a cloth with chloroform.

"Hoss help me hold him down."  Ben directed his middle son.  "Hoss, now son."

Hoss hesitated to do his father's bidding; he was still dazed by the doctor's prognosis.  Shaking himself, he rushed forward to assist his father by imposing his great strength upon his older brother.  In Adam's extremely agitated state, even Hoss had difficulty restraining him.

"Adam.  Adam, son please settle down."  Ben begged trying to calm his son, with one hand stroking the young man's forehead while holding his shoulders down with the forearm of his other.

Dr. Martin approached his struggling patient and held the cloth close to the man's face while his family turned their heads safely away.  Adam struggles diminished and finally his body relaxed into a deep sleep after Paul Martin had administered the anesthetic.

"Ben, you and Hoss need to go now."  Paul Martin instructed placing a comforting hand upon his friend's shoulder.

Ben continued to look down at his now unconscious son still stroking his forehead lovingly.  "Please Paul," Ben began and found his voice choking with emotion.  

"Ben, the hand and lower forearm are badly broken.  I really don't think it can be saved."  Dr. Martin answered Ben's unspoken request.

"Please Paul," Ben again quietly pled.

"Ben, if I don't amputate now…" Paul Martin tried to calmly explain before he was interrupted by the distraught father again.

"I know, Adam could lose the whole arm."  Ben finished sadly for the physician.

"No Ben, Adam could lose his life."  

Ben and Hoss turned horrified stares toward Paul Martin upon hearing the doctor's dispassionate pronouncement.  The doctor wanted Adam's father to fully understand what was being requested of him, and the potential dire consequences of the man's next decision.

Ben's gaze left the doctor's resolute face, and turned his attention next to his other son.  He saw the grim determination on his middle son's face and smiled inwardly when he saw Hoss give a slight nod of his head.  Finally, he returned his focus to Adam's now peaceful visage.  Ben knew of the risk that the arm could possibly develop gangrene and would kill his beloved child, and felt torn.  He wanted his son to live at all costs, but he also knew that Adam would want the chance to live that life as he had always known it, and he had to give him that chance.  Moving his left hand from Adam's forehead, Ben let the back of his fingers briefly brush against his much-loved firstborn's cheek.
 
"Please Paul, do what is necessary to save Adam's arm."

Ben slowly left Adam's bedside glancing briefly over his shoulder one last time at the doorway.  Seeing his father's hesitation, Hoss walked over and draped his big strong arm across his father's slumped shoulders.  Giving his Pa's shoulders a reassuring strong embrace; Hoss guided his father from Adam's room.

Both men began to descend the stairs in silence, when a rifle shot shattered the quiet of the late morning.  Ben's head shot up from studying the wood grain of the stairs beneath his feet at the shocking sound.  He realized that one of the ranch hands must have just put Sassy out of her misery, Ben glanced back towards the top of the stairs.  He wondered and worried that he might have just consigned his own son to the same fate.


                    *********


Ben Cartwright spent a long quiet evening sitting at his son's bedside.  Adam had still not stirred since Doc Martin had performed his surgery hours before.  He'd lost all track of time during his fearful vigil and hoped that Hoss and Joe had remembered to get something to eat.  He smiled ruefully at the thought; of course Hoss would remember to eat.  He suddenly realized that he hadn't seen Joe since breakfast that morning, and began to wonder if his youngest was all right when he heard a soft moan from the bed beside him.

"Adam?  Adam, please wake up son."  Ben questioned quietly, stroking Adam's upper right arm in a soothing gesture.

Adam struggled with the heavy weight, which seemed to hold his eyelids closed.  He could hear his father's voice calling to him, but found his throat dry and difficult to respond.

"Adam, can you hear me son?"

Adam nodded his groggy head in response.  He was confused as to where he was, he struggled to get his drug addled brain to respond when hot lances of sheer agony shot up his right arm causing him to gasp out loud.  The unbearable anguish brought his mind fully back into awareness.  He briefly opened his eyes to find his father's fearful face looking down at him.  Fearing the worst, Adam closed his eyes tightly and turned his head away from his father.

Ben watched as Adam awakened, then saw the abject terror in his son's dark hazel eyes.  Knowing the cause of his son's fearful reaction, Ben gently commanded his oldest.  "Look at me son." Ben patiently waited until Adam's head turned back to face him and smiled warmly.

"It's alright Adam, here look."  Ben lovingly instructed moving his hand to lift the cloth that was covering Adam's lower right arm.

At first, when he turned his head back to face his father, Adam closed his eyes.  He didn't think he could bear to look.  When he re-opened his eyes and saw the reassuring look upon his father's face, he found the needed courage to see what his father was trying to show him.  Glancing down, he saw a badly swollen arm and hand discolored with bruises in various shades of purple and scarlet with black stitching.  The badly injured limb was partially encased in a feather pillow that substituted as a makeshift splint.  Adam's relief of still having his right arm was short-lived, when that realization now brought with it the full onslaught of unbelievable pain.  

Ben watched Adam's face turn from apprehension, to relief then finally grimacing in agony.  Placing the cloth back over his son's injured arm; Ben turned his attention to the nightstand and the brown bottle sitting there.  Pouring a well-measured tablespoon from the container, Ben carefully lifted Adam's head and encouraged the young man to take the medicine.  Once Adam had swallowed the amber liquid, Ben lowered his son's head back to his pillow.  Then he moved his hand to the back of Adam's neck to massage the tense muscles and encourage his son to relax.

Adam wanted to gag on the foul tasting medicine, but took it without complaint if it would alleviate some of the throbbing agony.  Closing his eyes, he had never been so thankful in his life for the pain that he was currently enduring, for it meant he still had his arm and hand.  He felt his father's hand gently rubbing the back of his neck before moving to grasp his shoulder.  Adam's shoulder relaxed under the careful ministrations of his father's hand, and he drifted into peaceful slumber while his Pa's thumb soothingly caressed his collarbone.


                    *********


Elated, Joe whooped loudly and waved his arm over his head as the spirited animal danced and bucked wildly beneath him.  He could feel the raw power of the brown mottled mare as it tossed its frame from one side to the other.  He felt the sting of its black mane across his face when its head swung upwards, the horse definitely was a sassy one.

Joe's attention was abruptly changed to the dark form that lay ahead of the mare's descending front hooves.  He recognized the unmoving black clad figure of his brother Adam; lying face down and so still upon the dirt covered ground.  Unable to control his mount, Joe felt the animal rise, then stomp its forelegs down onto his brother's body over and over again.

Little Joe awakened in horror and drenched with sweat.  The image of his brother being trampled, and him being the cause, reverberated through his mind.  He looked toward the door wishing that the whole incident had been a bad dream, only to have that hope dashed.  In the past, Adam was the one who'd appear to calm him from his fears whenever he had nightmares.  Now his brother was living his own nightmare and Joe was to blame.

Rolling over, Joe buried his face into his pillow and began to sob again, as he had many hours before.  He couldn't bring himself to visit his brother and feared the worst.  Emotionally distraught, Joe tried not to fall asleep but was soon lulled by exhaustion back into a fitful slumber.

Sitting by his oldest son's bedside, Ben heard his youngest son cry out in terror.  He rose quickly and started to make his way to Joe's room to comfort the boy, but was stopped short by a soft moan from Adam as he shifted restlessly.  He returned to his eldest and talked to him in soothing tones, hoping that Adam would return to his deep sleep.  The doctor had warned that Adam was to remain as still as possible, and that meant no moving about.  

From his drug-induced slumber, Adam had heard Joe cry out in his sleep, from instinct he attempted to rise.  He found his body heavy and unwilling to respond, with sharp pain radiating from his right arm at the attempt.  Deep in a foggy haze, he heard his father's voice softly encouraging sleep.  Deciding his father would tend to his baby brother, Adam surrendered his body back to oblivion.

Satisfied that Adam was once again asleep, Ben made his way to Little Joe's room.  He found his youngest child sleeping on his stomach and tangled in the bedclothes.  Carefully, Ben untangled Joe from his top sheet and blanket, and covered his son lovingly.  Reaching down to push some of the curls from his son's head, Ben's hand brushed against the pillow and found it cold and wet.  He was saddened to realize that Joe had cried himself back to sleep.

Unable to spend more time with his youngest, Ben left the boy to his dreams and returned to Adam's room.  He made a mental note to talk to Joe tomorrow.


                    *********


Ben Cartwright descended the stairs the next evening feeling refreshed from a rejuvenating sleep.  After Dr. Martin had arrived earlier that morning and pronounced that things were proceeding nicely in Adam's recovery.  His middle son had taken over his vigil, and shuffled him off to bed.  Seeing his two youngest sons at the dinner table, Ben made his way to join them.

"Evening boys."  Ben cheerfully greeted his sons.

"Pa."  Hoss replied between mouthfuls.

Joe sat with eyes downcast to his plate. His guilt gnawed at him over Adam's injury and sat in his stomach like a large stone.  He had no appetite, nor could he bear to look his father or brother in the face.

Not hearing his youngest respond, Ben turned a concerned eye to Joe.  He was appalled to see Joe's pale and drawn face.  It was obvious by his youngest son's disheveled appearance that Joe was distraught and near to tears.

Sensing the somber mood of the room, Hoss looked up from his dinner.  Seeing his little brother's tear filled eyes and the concerned look upon his father's face; Hoss quietly excused himself from the table, claiming he needed to check something in the barn.

Ben smiled gratefully to his middle son for his intuitive sensitivity of the situation.  He watched Hoss give a slight dip of his head toward his little brother in concern, before exiting the room.  Ben waited until he heard the door open and close before addressing his youngest child.

"Joe, would you care to talk about it son?"  Ben questioned in a calming tone, and reached out his hand to touch Joe's.  He was shocked when Joe yanked his left hand from him.

Joe didn't want his father's sympathy.  He felt he didn't deserve it for what he had done.  One part of him wanted to run from the room and hide, but he also knew that this nightmare would only follow him.  The other part of him wanted to confess the whole sordid tale and beg his father to forgive him, but he was too afraid of the results.  Knowing that he couldn't bear the strain any longer, Joe was resigned to the latter of the two options and nodded his head in response to his father's question.

Ben rose from the table and placed a comforting arm across Joe's slender young shoulders.  Frowning with his dark brows drawn close in confusion, he was again taken aback when Joe pulled free from his attempt at an embrace.  Quietly, he followed his son into the main room of the ranch house.

Joe seated himself on the settee.  He studied the dirt under his fingernails while he waited for his father to join him in the room.  He didn't have to wait long before his father pulled the well-padded burgundy colored leather chair closer to him.

Incoherent and confusing thoughts erupted from the young man's mouth.  Ben tried to follow Joe's ramblings and hoped to put the pieces together later, but for the time being it seemed important to just let the boy speak.  He was shocked and horrified to realize that Little Joe had witnessed Adam's accident.  No wonder he was having nightmares.


                    *********


Hoss wandered about the barn.  He hadn't been out there since the accident.  First going over to his own horse and scratching the large animal's soft fuzzy nose, he glanced about the large building looking for something to do.  Near the barn door, he noticed Adam's gear haphazardly thrown on the floor.  Knowing that his brother was very picky about the treatment of his belongings, Hoss strode over to the door and began picking up the items from the floor.

First, Hoss picked up the bridle and carefully wiped the metal bit upon his pants leg.  Satisfied that the device now properly shone to his older brother's perfection, he walked over and hung it from the wooden peg near Sport's stall.  Next, he went back and easily hefted the dirt-covered saddle from the floor.  Realizing that Adam would be most displeased with the current state of his saddle, Hoss decided that he'd wax it for him.  

After retrieving a rag and the can of saddle wax from a nearby cabinet, Hoss bent and nonchalantly pulled Adam's saddle blanket from the floor.  Shaking the woven covering, Hoss tossed the blanket over the low wall of Sport's stall.  Once settled on the wooden divider, Hoss could see something that seemed out of place.  Closely he peered at the object that clung to the blanket, then felt his blood begin to boil.  His brother's trampling was no accident afterall.  Dropping the can of wax and the rag onto the floor; Hoss in a fury, ripped the saddle blanket from the wall and stormed back towards the ranch house to find his father.

Reaching the house, Hoss threw open the front door causing it to slam into the sideboard by the door.  In his outstretched hand was Adam's saddle blanket with blood tainted cockle burr still firmly attached.

"Pa, tweren't no accident, someone done hurt Adam on purpose.  If I ever find the low down…" Hoss angrily declared, waving the blanket in one hand as he neared the main room.  He was so infuriated that someone had intentionally harmed his older brother that he was unable to complete his thought.  He paid no mind to the door recoiling and slamming shut behind him.

"Yes I know," Ben replied sadly while he considered his youngest son's face.  Joe's face drained of all color and was a study in abject terror when he heard Hoss's angry accusation and pronouncement.

Stunned by his father's sorrowful acknowledgement, Hoss looked from his father to his younger brother.  He was even more shocked by the pale fearful look he found there.  He found it difficult to comprehend that Joe was the one responsible for hurting Adam.

"Hoss, please go up and check on Adam for me."  Ben patiently instructed, calling Hoss's attention back from Little Joe.  Still in disbelief over recent events and confessions, Hoss could only look back at his father.

"Son, please go up and sit with your brother."  Ben again directed his middle son using his best calm and fatherly tone of voice.  He didn't have the endurance to deal with Hoss at the moment.  It was taking all of his control to fight the urge to grab his youngest son by the shoulders and shake him soundly.  

Finally nodding his head in acknowledgement of his father's orders, Hoss turned to make his way upstairs.  He paused long enough for his crystal blue eyes to meet his little brother's hazel green ones, with a penetrating disappointed glare.  Dropping Adam's saddle blanket with the cockle burr plainly in sight, Hoss turned on one heel then made his way heavily up the stairs.

Joe looked down at the hair-covered blanket that now sat across his narrow lap.  The cockle burr seemed to mock him, pointedly accusing him of his crime.  Joe felt the warmth of fresh tears stream down his face, to drop freely upon his brother's saddle blanket.


                    *********


Adam and Hoss looked up when their father and Little Joe entered Adam's bedroom.  Hoss was seated next to his brother upon the bed, holding a book while Adam read the poetry aloud.  Adam felt Hoss's body unexpectedly stiffen beside him.  Glancing up, Adam barely caught the very shameful expression upon Hoss's face before he turned abruptly away.
 
Looking back toward his father, he saw a strange mixture of what seemed to be barely contained rage in the strong set of his jaw and extreme disappointment in his ebony eyes.  Looking to Little Joe, he realized the boy was very distraught.  Adam could clearly see the tracks caused by recently shed tears upon his littlest brother's cheeks and the lack of liveliness in the normally sparkling hazel green eyes.  Confused by his family's strong emotions, Adam felt his heart began to beat fearfully.  With questioning apprehension, Adam's eyes sought out his father's for an explanation.

"Joseph, please tell your brother what you just told me."  His voice a dispassionate monotone, Ben ordered while looking over to his youngest son.  He too felt ashamed for Joe's actions and was unable to meet Adam's gaze.

Adam's confusion turned to disbelief as he heard the words spill from his youngest sibling's mouth.  Though he understood that Joe had never intentionally meant him harm, his mind still reeled at the news.  Feeling his body weaken, he allowed his head to fall back against the soft feather pillow.

"Adam, Adam I'm…" Joe's young voice faltered over the inadequacy of the words, and he actually jumped back a step when Adam angrily cut him off in mid-sentence.

"No Joe.  Don't say it, just don't say it.  'Sorry' is a word that comes too easily to you.  For once in your life, I wish that you would think a little more and be sorry a great deal less."

Joe was stunned by his brother's words and the vehemence in which they were said.  Stupefied, he first sought out Hoss for support, and watched while Hoss looked away.  Turning his head, Joe searched his father's face for solace and saw none forthcoming.

"Joe, go and wait in your room for me."  The words echoed in the now silent room.  Ben spoke in a tone that would tolerate no argument.  Joe fled from Adam's room, grateful to be dismissed.

"Adam…" Ben began but was interrupted by his middle son.

"Pa, can I talk to ya?"

"Not now Hoss."  Ben's impatience was beginning to grow with all of his sons.

"Please Pa, it's real important."  Hoss persisted glancing first to Adam, whose soulful eyes now studied the wooden rafters of his ceiling, before turning pleading blue ones to his father.

Taking a calming breath, Ben nodded his head.  Shaking his head sadly, Hoss stuck his large hands deeply into his front pants pockets and followed his father from the room.  Both men proceeded down the hall to the stairs, finally ending in the main room downstairs where Ben turned to face his large son.

"Well, just what is it that is so important?"  Ben practically growled causing Hoss to step back from his father.

"Promise you won't get mad?"  Wincing at the sharpness of his father's tone, Hoss anxiously inquired with his eyebrows raised slightly in trepidation.  He knew his father was on the brink of exploding and didn't want to push him over the edge.

"Hoss, I don't have the time or the patience for this right now."  Ben warned, jabbing his right index finger into the air directed toward the top of the stairs.

Swallowing deeply and finding courage he didn't feel he normally possessed when confronting his father.  Hoss advised in the best authoritative voice that he could muster.  

"Don't ya go getting yourself crosswise with Adam."   Hoss swore he could feel his father's steely-eyed gaze boring a hole straight through him.

Ben was surprised by Hoss's demand.  He'd expected Joe's most staunch supporter to defend his little brother.  Instead, he had done something that Ben didn't anticipate by protecting his older brother, Adam.

"What?"  Was all that Ben could offer in response.

"Don't be getting all riled up with Adam, Pa.  He don't really mean those things he said to Little Joe.  Well, maybe he does, but not in that way."  Hoss tried to make his father understand, but his words seemed to fail him.

"Then why did he say them?"  Ben responded as he walked over to sit in his red leather chair near the fireplace.

Hoss watched his father and followed to stand with his back to the large fireplace.  Looking down, he knew what he needed to say and hoped his brother would forgive him.

"Cus, he's scared, Pa.  He's afraid that he might still lose his arm, or even his life.  Or that he could end up being a cripple.  Pa, Adam's just…"

Ben solemnly nodded in understanding, realizing how wrong he was to have misjudged Adam's reaction.  Ben began to feel guilty and wondered how often he had misinterpreted Adam's sudden outbursts.  To Ben, Adam always seemed so much in control he'd never really considered Adam's motivations for losing his temper.  Even though Adam was the one son who was most like him, his fiercely independent firstborn was also the son that Ben understood the least.  Glancing up to his large middle son, Ben encouraged Hoss to continue.

"Pa, Adam's scared that he won't be able to do all them things that he does round here."  Hoss voiced the thought hoping his father would understand without having to explain.  His hopes were dashed when he saw his father's dark brows draw closer in confusion.  Swallowing deeply, his own eyebrows rose again in dismay over what he was about to say.

"Pa, promise me ya won't get mad?"  Hoss pleaded cautiously.

"I promise Hoss, please would you get on with it."  Ben closed his eyes in frustration, hoping that his middle son would do him the favor by getting to the point.

"Adam's afraid that you won't love him or need him anymore if he's a cripple."  The words rapidly escaped from Hoss's mouth, he felt if he said the words quickly, they wouldn't hurt his Pa as badly.

"What?"  Ben sat utterly confused by what he'd just heard.

Hoss knew his father wasn't really asking for clarification.  He waited and watched till what he'd said had sunk in, before addressing his father again.

"See Pa, somehow Adam has always gotten the impression that you love him for the things that he can do.  Things like doing them books, breaking horses, working stock, building things and the like…" Hoss paused as his father looked up at him in disbelief.

"I see."  Ben softly muttered beginning to feel woefully inadequate as a parent.

"And Joe, well Joe just feels you love him because he's Joe.  He thinks you keep treating him like a little kid, cus that's all you expect from him."

Ben's mind reeled by his middle son's observations.  He felt as though his large boy had slapped him soundly across the face.  His oldest son felt that his father only loved him if he was of value to him and the ranch.  While his youngest son felt he was only of value, because he was the baby in the family.

"And what do you think?"  Ben plaintively questioned sinking deeper into the soft chair in defeat.

"I think you just love em."  Hoss smiled broadly, hoping he could ease some of the pain that he'd just inflicted.  He knew the words were difficult for his father to hear, but he felt they were long overdue in being said.

Looking up to the large man beside him, Ben marveled at Hoss's ability to read people so well.  Most found Hoss a little slow, but as far as Ben was concerned, Hoss was wise beyond any book learning.  Standing, he took Hoss into his arms and hugged him tight against his chest, patting his back warmly.

Hoss welcomed his father's embrace and hugged back.  He was afraid that he'd hurt his father terribly.  Releasing himself from his father's arms, Hoss sniffled slightly before leaving his father to his own thoughts.


                    *********


Ben sat in the main room, staring into the crackling fire.  He'd lost all track of time as he pondered his middle son's observations.  He felt he needed to do something to correct the rift between Adam and Joe, and in doing so, correct things with himself as well.  With a sudden thought of inspiration, Ben rose from his chair and proceeded to Joe's bedroom.

Lying on the bed in his room, Joe's hands were laced behind his head as he stared upwards without focusing, awaiting his father's arrival.  As always, the worst part was the waiting while he anticipated his punishment, which he was certain would include some type of ranch restriction, extra chores and a very sound thrashing.  Joe felt his entire body tense, when he heard his father's heavy footfalls come down the hall nearing his room.  His body involuntarily jumped and he winced at the sharp knock upon his door that opened without invitation.

"Joseph."  Ben called to his son and waited until he had Joe's full attention.

"Yes sir."  Sitting up, Little Joe swung his legs over the edge of the bed with his body facing his father, but his eyes downcast to the floor.

"Look at me son."  Ben commanded and again waited until Joe complied.

Nervously, Joe swallowed before following his father's direction.  Though the room was fairly dark, he could clearly see the look upon the silver-haired man's face.  Gone now was the anger, but the bitter disappointment was very much still evident for him to see.

"For months you have complained bitterly about being treated as a child.  You feel that you should be given more responsibility and deserve more respect.  Yet earlier this evening, you confessed to me of your culpability surrounding your brother's accident.  Any true man knows that respect is not given but earned through the responsibility of his actions.  Only a coward attempts to gain respect through the harming or degradation of others."

Ben paused to gage his young son's reactions.  He watched as Joe looked away in shame.  Again he waited until he had his youngest son's full attention.

"As your punishment, you will take over Adam's regular chores.  Due to the fact that I will need to take over Adam's other ranch duties; you will tend to his needs.  You will become his right hand while his heals, and you will do so without complaint."

"But…" Joe began to object, he was certain his brother hated him based upon his earlier comments, and for once Joe couldn't really blame him.  Astonished, he watched while his father turned his back to him and purposefully strode from the room.

Ben ignored Joe's attempt at discussion, and fought the urge to take his youngest son into his arms to assure him that everything would be forgiven.  Ben knew that forgiveness, like respect, was something that had to be given, and only Adam could provide the forgiveness that Joe sought.  Sighing deeply, Ben's shoulders seemed to sag as he left Joe's room.  He sincerely hoped that his youngest son would learn to take responsibility for his actions, and that sometimes those actions came with dire consequences.

Ben's feet seemed almost too heavy to lift as he shuffled upon the carpet runner, while making his way down the hall to his oldest son's room.  He was not surprised to see Adam struggling to stay awake.

"Adam, you should be asleep."  Ben gently remonstrated while approaching the nightstand, then preparing a tablespoon of laudanum for his son.

"I know, I was waiting to talk to you."  Adam tried to explain, fighting to ward off an impending yawn in vain.

Ben gently lifted Adam's head and held the spoon to his lips.  Adam obediently opened his mouth and took the medicine, not wanting to give his father anymore grief this night.

"Pa, I just…" Adam attempted to explain, after his father removed the spoon from his mouth.

"Shhh, I understand Adam."  Ben replied now holding a glass of water to Adam's lips.

Again Adam obeyed his father by taking a couple of sips of the cool refreshing water.  He watched and waited until his father had returned the glass to the nightstand before speaking.  

"But I didn't…"

Drowsily, Adam sensed his father fluffing his pillow before lowering his head.  Fighting to keep his eyes open, he felt the back of his father's hand touch his brow to feel for fever.

"I know son."

Unable to fend off sleep any longer Adam closed his eyes as his father pulled the coverlet up to his shoulders.


                    *********


Little Joe stood at his oldest brother's door with breakfast tray in hand.  In apprehension of what was to come, he stood staring at the grain of the wooden door trying to decide if he should knock before entering.  Deciding that he couldn't balance the tray and knock too, he chose to just push the partially open door and make an entrance.

"Morning Adam."  Joe greeted his oldest brother in his best attempt to sound cheerful, while he tentatively made his way over to Adam's bedside.

"Huh, morn."  Was Adam's groggy response.  With the pain medication that he was taking, he was finding it difficult to fully awaken on this early morning.  Adam drew his left hand across the side of his face to scratch at the annoying stubble of beard upon his somewhat numb feeling skin.

"Brought ya some breakfast."  Joe announced still trying to sound more chipper than he felt.  He was pleasantly pleased that Adam hadn't ordered him from the room.

The aroma of the eggs and bacon started to arouse the sleepy headed man.  He wasn't aware how hungry he'd become until his stomach growled in eager anticipation.  Trying to sit up, Adam used his left arm to push himself into a more upright position.  He emitted a small grunt of pain when the effort elicited a very sharp reminder of why he was in bed to begin with.

"Hey, lay still."  Joe ordered as he quickly placed the tray on a nearby chair and rushed to Adam's side.

Adam raised one eyebrow in wry response to his youngest brother's attempt to order him around.  Knowing that the family doctor and his father would not be pleased to hear that he was attempting to move about, after being given strict instructions to lay as still as possible, Adam acquiesced to his brother's demand.  He had to fight to contain his amusement, while his littlest brother's lithe body attempted to raise his larger frame into more of a sitting position using the pillows that had been laying on a chest near the foot of his bed.

Once the struggle to complete the task of sitting his bigger brother up was over, Joe wiped at his brow.  Looking down Joe noticed the small slightly bemused smile displayed upon Adam's face and shrugged slightly in embarrassment, which now caused his older brother to chuckle and shake his head in response.  Adam's reaction warmed the young man's heart and allowed Joe to feel that this 'punishment' might not be so horrible afterall.

Joe watched and chattered to Adam while he ate his breakfast.  He noticed that Hop Sing had obviously gone out of his way to prepare food that didn't require much use of utensils to consume.  Even the eggs were scrambled, so they wouldn't need to be cut, and the bacon could be eaten with Adam's fingers.  The oriental cook had even buttered and put his brother's favorite jam on the toast.

After eating as much of his meal that he could manage, Adam declared that he was finished with his breakfast, and dropped the red checkered napkin over the remains.

"But Adam, you didn't finish."  Joe was alarmed that something was wrong because Adam had only eaten about half of what was his normal morning meal.

Adam returned a warning 'don't push it' look in response.

Recognizing Adam's look, Joe acknowledged his brother's silent reply with a small shrug and removed the tray from Adam's lap.  Carrying the tray, Joe headed for the door and was stopped short by the sound of Adam's voice.

"Joe?"

"Yeah Adam."  Joe anxiously replied worried that something was definitely wrong with his brother.

"When you come back, could you bring some hot water with you?  I'd like to clean up a bit."  Using his left hand, Adam again scratched at the annoying beard that was beginning to form upon his face.

"Sure thing Adam."  Joe eagerly replied, happy to not only be allowed to do his brother's bidding, but that his older brother expected him to return.


                    *********


"Hold that thing still!"  Adam admonished his fidgeting little brother in reference to the mirror he was supposed to be holding, and wincing over the new nick on the side of his chin.

"Don't blame me if you can't handle it."  Joe fired back.  "If you just let me try…"

"Let you try!  You don't even shave yet.  You'd probably cut my throat!"  Adam exclaimed then instantly regretted his words, thinking that his overly sensitive baby brother would misinterpret them.

"Well, I couldn't do any worse than you!"  Joe retorted pointing a finger towards the small bleeding cuts on his brother's face.

Eyeing the razor he held in his left hand, then the image of his partially shaven face already replete with three small wounds.  Adam pursed his lips in frustration before handing the sharp instrument over to his young brother.

Adam was slightly unnerved when Joe eagerly took the proffered razor from him.  He found his head drawing back from the sight of his brother nearing him with the sharp instrument grasped tightly in what now appeared to be a slightly trembling hand.  Adam closed his eyes against the image of Little Joe with tongue protruding from the side of his lips in concentration, leaning ever closer to his exposed face.

"Joe trust me, that's an arm hole."  Adam impatiently declared; frustrated over his brother's persistent tugging on the striped cloth of the nightshirt that covered his head.

"Quit telling me what to do Adam."  Joe retorted in an equal amount of discontent.

"Well I wouldn't be telling ya what to do, if you weren't trying to force my head into a hole that's too small.  It's a good thing that you were born last, or Hoss and I would be running around with our jeans over our heads instead of our…" Adam drawled dispassionately back.  Then stopped his tirade abruptly when he heard the distinct sound of his father clearing his throat as he entered the room.

"What's going on in here?"  Ben demanded attempting to sound stern but failing, he was slightly amused by the sight before him.

"Oh, hi Pa.  Just trying to get this fool thing on Adam."  Joe answered, pointing to his older brother with one hand and waving his brother's nightshirt disgustedly in the other.

"Here let me help you son."  Ben offered taking the shirt from Joe's grasp, and wondering what had happened to the one that Adam had been wearing.  He held the shirt in his outstretched hand and studied what remained of the right sleeve.  The previous nightshirt's seam had been undone to make it easier to pull the shirt over Adam's injured arm, but this one was ripped up the length of the sleeve.

"I got a little carried away."  Joe explained fearfully, noticing his father was studying his handiwork.

"I see."  Shaking his head, Ben replied then closed his eyes to keep from chuckling aloud, he would just buy Adam another one.  He was certain that this one was even beyond Hop Sing's ability to repair.

With his father's assistance, Joe was able to get his older brother redressed in a fresh nightshirt and once again comfortable in his bed.

"Adam, have you changed your hairstyle?"  Grinning Ben noticed more flair to his oldest son's grooming.

"No, I didn't" With emphasis on the 'I', Adam glared toward his littlest brother who had taken liberties when combing his hair.  Adam normally kept his wavy hair well controlled, but Joe thought his conservative brother needed more sprucing up.

Ben recognized Adam's discomfort, and he too had to admit he didn't care for his eldest looking like a cheap riverboat gambler.  Unfortunately, that was more of his youngest son's style.  Retrieving a comb from Adam's nightstand, Ben set about the task of re-doing Adam's hair.

"There."  Ben announced, pleased that his son's hair was now more to Adam's and his liking.  Studying his handiwork, Ben peered more closely at the young man's face.  He could see that Adam had been recently shaved, but he also noticed several small wounds that hadn't been there before.

"What happened to your face son?"  His eyes squinting at the sight, Ben inquired inspecting all the small cuts on Adam's cheeks and chin.

"He did it."  Adam asserted, pointing an accusing finger at his little brother.

"Nuh Uh."  Joe retorted defensively.  "Well not all of them anyway."

Both sons watched the retreating back of their father as he chuckled and shook his head while departing the room.  In stunned disbelief of Adam's unfair attempt to tattle on him, Joe turned to stare at his older brother.  Joe lifted one side of his lip into a petulant sneer, when he noticed that Adam was sticking his tongue out at him.  Little Joe shook his head in disgust and wondered if Adam would ever grow up.

                    *********


Joe left Adam to rest and headed outside to work on his and his brother's chores.  When he returned later with Adam's lunch tray he could tell that his brother was growing restless.  He definitely could sympathize with his brother; he too hated to be cooped up indoors.  Unlike him, Adam enjoyed reading and even though Adam had plenty of books at his disposal, Joe could tell that Adam was beginning to become agitated over his confinement.

Joe prattled on about the new kittens he'd found in the loft of the barn, Adam's and his horses, the fluffy little chicks in the hen house and any other thing that came to his mind.  Joe carried a one sided conversation while his brother silently ate the sandwich that Hop Sing had prepared for him.

"Hey Adam, I'm done with my chores for the day.  Whatcha say to a game of checkers?"  Even though he really wasn't finished with all of his work, Joe felt that his brother needed company more.  Not much of a chess player, Joe suggested the only game he could play really well.

"Maybe later Joe."  Adam replied, pushing the partially finished lunch tray toward his younger brother.

"It's a nice day outside, how about some fresh air?"  Joe offered taking the tray and placing it on the chair he'd just vacated before walking to the window.

He hoped the warm day would help dispel his brother's growing dark somber mood.  If nothing else, it would make the bedroom less stuffy.  He was gratified to see Adam nod in response and without hesitation Joe opened the window to its fullest, filling the room with sweet smells of blooming flowers and refreshing air.

"Hey Joe, do me a favor and bring up Pa's ledgers and those contracts I was working on the other day."  Adam felt the need to be productive, and was certain that there was still a way his father could bid on that timber contract.

"Sure thing Adam."  Joe grabbed the discarded lunch tray and quickly made his way downstairs.  Though doing paperwork wasn't his idea of fun, if it made Adam happy, he'd eagerly get it for him.

Twenty minutes later, Joe was regretting his actions as he watched Adam struggle to write with his left hand.  Normally a perfectionist, and most definitely right handed, Joe could only watch his brother's growing discontent and disgust with himself.

"Here Adam, you tell me what to write." Suddenly inspired, Joe offered his suggestion and sat down on the bed beside his brother.

Thankful for the reprieve, Adam handed the ledger to his younger brother.  Mentally calculating the figures, he directed his younger brother on where to place the digits.  
In the process of acting as his scribe, Adam noticed that Joe was unconsciously learning accounting.  He smiled as the young lad caught on quickly to the bookkeeping principles.  Adam always knew his brother was bright, and suspected that Joe just lacked the impetus to strive for more.

"Joe, that '8' looks like a 'B', and that should be a '2' not a 'Z'."  Adam corrected pointing to two figures his brother had entered in the cattle ledger.  Joe was notorious for his poor penmanship, which Adam felt was just laziness on his little brother's part.

"Well, if you can do better."  Joe spontaneously retorted thrusting the ledger into Adam's left hand.  He really hated to be criticized for his poor writing skills.  He was instantly chagrined by the stunned expression on his brother's face.

"Nah, I'm not very good at being a south paw."  Adam replied handing the book back to Joe, he knew Joe was quick to anger and really didn't mean anything by his action.

"Well, that's something I'm an expert on."  Hitting on an idea, Joe dropped the ledger upon the bed and dashed from the room.

Adam watched his brother in confusion.  He could hear Joe run down the hall to his room and rifle through what sounded like the drawers of either his bureau or wardrobe.  Moments later, he watched as Joe re-emerged in his doorway.

"Walla, time you learned how to write properly!"  Joe excitedly exclaimed, holding aloft a small writing slate and a chunk of white chalk in his raised hands.  

Adam instantly recognized the items his brother held out to him.  They were the same instruments that Adam had used when he instructed his younger brothers on the fine art of letters and numbers.

"No Adam, you need to hold it this way."  Joe was exasperated over his brother's insistence to place the slate in what he considered the wrong direction.

Adam pulled the slate free from Joe's grasp, and placed the smooth black square back the way he had it before.  Throwing up his hands in frustration, Little Joe let his brother do it the way he wanted.  Joe's lips puckered in a sour expression as an ear-piercing squeal emanated from the cool smooth slate as Adam drew his first line upon it's surface.

"Ew."  Adam wrinkled his nose in disgust at the offending sound.  Shrugging in defeat, he turned the board as he'd been previously shown.

Much of the afternoon was spent while Adam carefully drew and re-drew his letters and numbers.  By late day, he had mastered most of the standard letters and some of the numbers.  Joe could see that his brother was beginning to tire and probably needed a nap before dinner.  He also knew he needed to get out and finish his neglected chores before his father returned.

"Here Adam, why don't we call it a day."  Joe reached over with the chalk-covered rag to once again clean the slate.

Once the last of his handiwork was cleaned from the board, Adam handed the chalk up to his brother.  Joe took the chalk from Adam's outstretched hand, before reaching down to retrieve the now whitish gray chalkboard.  He was totally caught unaware when Adam snatched the small slate away from his grasp and blew forcefully across its surface.

Joe gazed down in mild annoyance over his oldest brother's actions.  He was definitely not amused by the mischievous impish grin he found upon Adam's face, nor the laughter that followed.

Adam couldn't contain himself.  He'd never seen his little brother so speechless.  Not to mention so white.

Joe stormed from the room with slate, rag and chalk in hand.  He stopped briefly and was dismayed by the ghostly appearance of his face reflected in the mirror before him.  He shook his head vigorously while running his hand through his hair trying to remove the chalky dust, then wiping his face on his sleeve.  And Adam's supposed to be the mature, responsible one!  Joe huffed, stomping to his room to discard the writing implements.  Tomorrow, he's using paper and pencil, Joe avowed.


                    *********


Ben Cartwright sat down at the large oak desk and tiredly rubbed his eyes before opening one of the ranch ledgers before him.  It had now been five days since Adam's accident and Ben was becoming acutely aware of his son's importance to the ranch.  With Adam confined to his bed, and more of his days spent out on the range, Ben was even more cognizant of how much he missed his son's presence.

Opening the book, Ben was at first not pleased to see his youngest son's scrawling script displayed in the columns.  Checking the figures, Ben smiled in silent satisfaction upon seeing that the columns and lines neatly balanced.  Seeing that this ledger balanced nicely and was completely up to date, Ben put the ledger aside and grabbed the payroll book.  Within the pages he found figures written in a hand that was unfamiliar, but vaguely similar to another son's script.  He was more than pleased and his heart swelled with pride as he realized that both Joe and Adam were progressing nicely.

Finding the entire ranch accounting totally accurate and up to date.  Ben rose from the chair behind the desk and stretched.  He was beginning to feel his years, and the long days in the saddle of late, weren't making him feel any younger.

Ben quietly ascended the stairs in the silent peaceful sleeping household.  He carefully let himself into Adam's room to check on his son before retiring for the night.  Ben ears were alerted to what sounded like raspy breaths coming from Adam's sleeping form.  Alarmed, Ben quickly checked Adam's temperature by placing the back of his hand to his son's forehead.  He was disheartened by the heat he found there.

"Pa?"  Adam questioned in a gravelly restricted voice.

"How do you feel son?"  Ben questioned anxiously fearing his son's response, but wasn't surprised when Adam gave nothing more than a noncommittal slight shrug in return.  

Ben poured a glass of water and lifted his son's head so that he could take a sip.  Adam gratefully drank the liquid to quench the ache he felt in his throat.  When Adam was finished, Ben lowered his head back to the soft pillow, and drew the bed covers up to his son's chest in an attempt to make him as comfortable as possible.  Once he felt his son was settled, Ben turned to depart the room and was stopped short by his son's strained voice.

"Pa?"

Ben turned back to Adam and clearly saw the dismay and fear displayed upon the man's face.

"Shhh son, it's going to be alright.  Just go back to sleep."  Ben reassuringly answered, a feeling that he himself didn't feel.  He increased his pace to wake his middle son.

Joe heard loud scurrying footfalls in the hallway outside his door.  Sleepily he stumbled to the doorway to find out what all the commotion was about.  He collided with Hoss who was struggling to pull on one of his boots, almost causing his large brother to tumble.

"Where's the fire?"  Joe jokingly inquired while running his hand through his sleep-strewn hair to scratch at his scalp.  Joe felt a knife of fear and shock tear through him by his big brother's response.

"Adam's got a fever."

In disbelief, Joe stood momentarily frozen in place, he watched while Hoss disappeared down the hall still trying to finish dressing.  Fearing the worst, Joe ran for Adam's room.  Entering the doorway, he found his father at his brother's washstand filling a basin with cool water.  Grabbing a small hand cloth from his father's shoulder, Joe took the basin from the elder Cartwright then made his way to Adam's bedside.

After putting the basin upon the nightstand, Joe pulled the straight-backed chair close to Adam's bed.  Sitting down as near to Adam as possible without jostling the injured arm, Joe began to bathe his brother's fevered brow and neck.  

Ben watched with love and admiration as Joe took charge of his brother's care.  His heart sank when he realized that Adam's breathing was becoming more labored.  Silently he began to pray for his sons.

Joe was disheartened by his brother's condition.  He felt that Adam had been doing so well.  In a couple of days, Adam was supposed to have the stitches removed, and then his arm was to be put into a splint.  Now it seemed that hope might be dashed.


                    *********


It was a long night of waiting, first for the doctor to arrive.  Then for the man to descend the stairs to give the Cartwright family the news.

Ben mentally tried to prepare himself for the worst, but was unable to find the strength.  Adam had come so far, and now it seemed as though life was playing a strange cruel joke.  Ben realized that he couldn't allow himself to be caught up in grief over something that had yet to happen, and resolved himself to stay as positive as he could.  He knew that no matter what may happen, he needed to be strong for Adam.  Looking up as Little Joe anxiously paced the floor like a caged animal, Ben knew he would need to be strong for him too.

Feeling a strong hand grip his shoulder, Ben looked up into the warm comforting eyes of his middle son.  He smiled in return, as Hoss handed him a steaming hot cup of coffee.  He knew if he didn't have the necessary strength; that Hoss would.

The three Cartwrights rushed forward to the bottom step of the stairs upon hearing the footsteps upon the upper hallway.  Eagerly they waited for the doctor to appear.
Paul Martin smiled and waved the men back.  

"He's going to be fine."  Paul Martin declared hearing a collective sigh of relief escape from the three men before him.  "He's developed a pretty fair case of bronchitis, which is a common complication when a patient is bedridden like Adam.  I've moved him into a more upright position and left medication on his nightstand with directions for its use."  Paul Martin was just as pleased with his diagnosis as the rest of the Cartwright family.  He too had dreaded the trip out to the Ponderosa that night, fearing the worst.

"Paul, how about a cup of coffee?"  Ben happily suggested holding out a cup in a grateful salute to his friend.


                    *********


The next two days passed much as the previous ones had for Adam Cartwright.  With the advent of the bronchitis, he spent more of his time sleeping than he had the days before.  His few waking hours, he spent reading or visiting with one or more members of his family, mainly Little Joe.  He glanced up toward the anxious young man who stood hovering near the doctor.  

Paul Martin had returned as scheduled to remove the stitches from Adam's hand and arm, and to finally put the injured arm into a splint.  This would allow Adam more mobility and freedom from the confines of his bed and room.

Adam watched while the cloth that had been carefully protecting his arm was removed.  He noticed Joe's face blanch at seeing the sight and realized that Joe had not seen the damage before.  He sincerely hoped that Joe would be able to handle the sight.

Joe felt his stomach roll and protest when he saw Adam's exposed arm.  He couldn't imagine how it might look, and now was more than a little repulsed by the sight.  Several of the bruises were still purple in color, but there were others that had changed in color to shades of pea green and yellow, which stood out starkly from the rows of black stitching.  Nervously, Joe glanced over to his eldest brother.  He felt more confident when he saw Adam wink in reply.

Joe never left the doctor's side throughout what he considered the painstaking too slow procedure of removing the rows of threads that had bound Adam's damaged flesh together.  He almost whooped aloud when he heard the doctor declare that he was done.

"Joe, you got that hot water and soap for me?"  The family doctor requested, barely giving the young boy a glance over his shoulder.

"Yep, just like you asked."  Joe replied carrying the basin of water forward with the small cake of soap stuck in his shirt pocket.  Interposing his small frame, Joe edged his way over to replace the doctor at his brother's bedside.

Doc Martin smiled and stepped back to allow the eager youth to assist.  Now it was his turn to hover over someone's shoulder.

"Okay Joe, I need for you to dip the cloth in the water and get it wet…"

"I know how to take a bath."  Joe exclaimed indignantly, and heard his older brother snort in amusement.

"Well I would certainly hope so young man."  Paul Martin replied, almost as indignant as his able young assistant.

Feeling properly redressed; Joe listened and waited patiently for the next instructions.

"Just wring out the cloth, you don't want it too wet or sloppy.  But not too dry either."  Paul watched as Joe dipped the cloth and wrung it out.  "Good, that’s it, now apply the soap."

Joe started to lather the hand cloth and almost jumped when the doctor's hand reached down to stop the motion.

"That's good, you don't want too much or it will cause irritation.  Just a little to clean the arm up good."  Paul watched while Joe moved his attention to washing Adam's arm.  He saw the young man hesitate at first, almost afraid to touch the skin.

"That's it, gently you don't want to push down too hard.  Good, good."  The doctor patiently encouraged.

After a couple of minutes of carefully bathing his brother's hand and arm.  Joe looked to the doctor for inspection and further instruction.

"Mighty fine job Joe."  The doctor announced, patting the youth upon his shoulder.  He felt Joe's shoulders rise with pride.

"Just think Joe, someday you're gonna make a fine nurse."  Adam dryly teased.

"Ha, ha."  Joe sneered before throwing the now unneeded wash cloth into his brother's face.

"Enough of that boys."  Paul Martin seriously intoned, first looking toward his patient before returning to his aide.

The Virginia City doctor was very impressed by how Joe maturely conducted himself during the whole procedure.  Joe carefully held his brother's arm and even provided the necessary implements before they were requested.  With a minimum of effort and only a few slight gasps of discomfort from Adam, the injured arm had been bathed, splinted and strapped protectively across Adam's chest.

"Well, he's all yours Joe."  The town doctor declared, grasping the young man upon the shoulder when he was being escorted from Adam's room.  After seeing Joe's earlier performance, he was more than confident that his patient was in good hands.


                    *********


Adam spent the first day in bed after having his arm splinted, but there was no keeping him there the days that followed.  Even though he still possessed a persistent annoying cough, he was chomping on the bit to be up and about.  Adam finally resigned himself to a regular routine of reading, napping and bookwork when he realized that any attempt to head outside would be met with either belligerent Chinese or a very irate baby brother.

Within a week the doctor returned and declared Adam fit enough to be outdoors.  The declaration had not come a moment too soon, as Adam was certain that he'd lose his mind if he had to stare at the ranch house walls much longer.  Adam's first trip was over to the barn with his constant guardian in tow.  He was beginning to wonder if he now possessed two shadows.

"Joe, you don't have to follow me about you know."  

"Yeah, I know."  Dejected, Joe wondered if his brother would prefer for him to get lost.

"Come on, let's go and visit Sport."  Adam encouraged when he noticed his little brother's sudden downcast disposition.  As the weeks had gone past, Adam was really beginning to enjoy Little Joe's company.


                    *********


Adam wasn't looking forward to another dull afternoon about the house.  He'd read almost everything of value in the place and all the bookkeeping was up to date.  He would've liked to go for a ride or down to the corrals, but he knew that was out of the question for the present.

Joe glanced over the table to Adam as the two Cartwright sons enjoyed a quiet lunch.  He sensed that Adam was restless, and couldn't really blame him.

"Hey Adam, how bout a game of checkers after lunch?"  Joe suggested helpfully.

"Nah, how about a game of chess instead?"  Adam offered in return.  Over the last couple of weeks he'd about played himself out with checkers.

"Nah."  Joe replied, he wasn't very good at chess and it definitely wasn't much fun to be beat in just a couple of moves.

Both sat in silence and stared out at the gloomy looking sky.

"Looks like rain."  Adam remarked.

"Yep."  Joe replied.

"Guess Pa and Hoss will be getting drenched."  Adam added.

"Yep."  Joe uttered.

"I've got it!"  Adam suddenly exclaimed, almost causing his baby brother to fall off of his chair.  

Joe looked back at his excited brother and thought that Adam had finally snapped.

"Cards."  Adam completed his thought.

"Cards."  Joe happily agreed.

After several losing games of cribbage and gin rummy, Joe was willing to admit defeat.  This is almost as bad as chess!  He wondered if he could beg off any further matches with Adam.  Well there's still a few chores I could do in the barn.  Nah, even being bored stiff and losing, was better than work.

Adam sensed that he was losing his opponent's interest.  He too, was getting bored by the lack of challenge that Joe provided.  Inspired, Adam struck upon a new game he could teach his younger brother.  One that he felt Joe could learn quickly, and maybe provide a little competition.

"No Joe, how many times do I have to tell ya.  If you're gonna bluff, you want to have more than a pair of twos to back it up."  Adam complained impatiently, sweeping the kitty of matchsticks towards his growing pile.

"Well, I ain't doing too bad Adam."  Joe snorted, gesturing to his ever-dwindling pile.  He liked this game, and was definitely getting the hang of it.  He decided not to tell his brother that he'd already won a couple of hands from his supposedly world-wise brother with a lot less.

Joe shuffled and dealt the cards like Adam had showed him.  Both were so enthralled in concentration over their hands, that they didn't hear their father and brother enter the large house.

Ben entered the house followed closely by Hoss.  Both men were dripping wet from the summer rain, and pulled their ponchos from over their heads and hung them on a peg behind the door.  Ben studied the scene of Adam and Joe at the round card table near the stairs.  Taking off his gun belt and hat, he handed the items to Hoss to stow away.

"Well, how many?"  Adam brusquely requested, not noticing his father's silent approach.

"Just a minute, I'm thinking."  Joe scoffed.  He hated the way Adam always pressured him.

"Well it's gonna take more than a minute for you to warm up that brain of yours."  Adam drolly replied.

"Heh, heh."  Joe sneered.  "I'll take two, no three."  Joe corrected first putting two cards down on the tabletop, checked them and then added one more.  Finishing with his play, Joe turned his concentration to the cards he held and attempted to situate them into some type of hand.

Ben smirked watching his youngest try to arrange his hand. Then carefully he leaned forward to look over his oldest son's shoulder.

Feeling someone behind him, Adam glanced up and found his father.

"Hi Pa."  Adam warmly greeted his father, before realizing whom he was speaking to.  His father didn't cotton to gambling and especially not in his own house, even if it was over a few matches.  Adam was also fairly certain, his Pa wouldn't be too pleased that he was teaching poker to his baby brother, Little Joe.

Ben chuckled as he watched the color drain from his firstborn's face before announcing clearly.

"Joe, I'd fold if I were you."


                    *********


Weeks went by slowly for Adam; he was never a very good patient but this time he knew the risks were too great to not paid heed to all of the doctor's directions.  Then again, he also had Joe bird dogging his every move.  Adam had begun to marvel at Joe's insistent and protective behavior, while meticulously caring for his needs.

Little Joe also did a great deal of growing over those weeks.  He learned to be more tolerant of his brother's moods and actually grew to enjoy his eldest brother's company.  Though he still found Adam to be bossy and an ornery cuss, as Hoss was fond of describing their older brother, he also found a very patient quiet man with a somewhat quirky sense of humor.  

All in all, both found a new respect for each other.

Joe really sympathized with his older brother.  Adam's increasing restlessness and growing depression worried him.  Though the doctor had done his best to assure Adam that he was progressing beyond his original expectations.  Adam wouldn't be consoled and was dissatisfied with what he considered very small strides.

With each passing week after Adam's splint had been removed, Doctor Martin added slow and well-measured therapy for Adam.  Joe enthusiastically embraced each one as advancements, while Adam became more despondent with what he deemed as poor progress.  

In the first week, Paul Martin prescribed a heat therapy of wrapping Adam's hand and arm in warm towels three times a day to relax the stiffened muscles.  The second week brought about simple massage followed by small careful flexing of the joints by Joe.  By the third week, Adam was allowed to try to manipulate his own wrist and fingers.  By this time, Adam had become thoroughly discouraged.  He was very troubled when he could only bend his wrist slightly, and the smallest two fingers responded minimally.

Impatient over what he felt was a lack of improvement, a defeated Adam resigned himself to the fact that he would probably never fully regain the use of his hand.  Grabbing his gun belt from the sideboard near the door, he checked the gun.  Satisfied that the weapon was loaded, he replaced the weapon into the holster before he slung the belt over his shoulder and headed outside.

Startled, Joe jumped backward at the sharp sounds of gunshots ringing through the air nearby.  Racing toward the house, he stopped short when he heard two more shots ring out.  Realizing they were coming from behind the ranch house, Joe slowly crept around the side of the house to investigate.  Little Joe was dumbfounded by the sight that greeted him.

"What do you think you're doing?"  Joe demanded loudly, placing his hands to his hips in an imitation of their father.  Joe watched as his brother jerked slightly before dropping a couple of the bullets he'd been struggling to load into the gun upon the ground.

"Good Lord Joe, you could really scare a fellow doing things like that."  Angrily scolding his youngest brother, Adam bent over to retrieve the fallen ammunition.

"Join the club."  Joe yelled back, pointing to the gun that Adam held in his hands.  Softening his voice, Joe inquired, "What're trying to do anyway?"  

Adam dipped his head in the direction of the fence railing where he'd set up a couple of empty glass bottles.  Shrugging, he offered an embarrassed response.

"Target practice."

Knowing his brother was a crack shot with his right hand, Joe showed the good grace not to laugh out loud when he noticed that all six bottles were still perfectly intact.  Moving toward his brother, Joe extended his hand.

"Can I help?"  Joe suggested; he didn't have any experience with revolvers, but his father had taken him on several hunts, so he was familiar with how to use a rifle.

Knowing his father still hadn't taught Joe how to use a pistol and realizing he was having far too many difficulties at present on his own, Adam accepted Joe's offer of assistance.

"Here, you take it like this…" Adam instructed handing his gun over to Joe.  Once Joe had the weapon safely in his hands, Adam continued.  "Always remember that a gun is not a toy and you should always consider it loaded…"

"I know that Adam."  Joe impatiently interrupted.  These were all things that their father had instilled in them concerning the use of firearms.  Seeing Adam's sharp glare in rebuke, Joe apologized, "sorry Adam."

Feeling his youngest brother had been properly chastised and that he now had Joe's fullest attention, Adam restarted his lesson.

"This is the chamber, you load the bullets like this.  Then click it back into place."  Adam paused to watch as Joe slipped each bullet into its chamber before snapping the casing closed.

"Good, now raise your arm.  No, not too high.  That's it."  Adam encouraged, moving Joe into place and bringing his arm up slightly.

"But I wanna be able to shoot from here."  Joe suggested moving his hand lower to the hip.  He once again received a warning glance from his oldest brother, before moving the weapon back to where Adam had originally placed it.

"Keep your arm slightly bent at the elbow.  Not too much, you don't want your arm too stiff.  Now sight the weapon, that's it and gently squeeze the trigger."

Joe released the trigger and felt the recoil of the weapon.  He frowned when his bullet failed to hit his intended target.

"That's alright, it just takes time and patience.  You'll get the hang of it."  Adam encouraged by patting his brother on the shoulder.  "Now try again."

The rest of the afternoon was spent putting unsuspecting glass bottles out of their misery.  Joe and Adam both tried their hand at shooting, and before the day was out they were both fairly confident in their abilities.

Finished with target practice for the day, Adam draped a loving arm around his baby brother's slender shoulders as they made their way toward the house for dinner.  Adam watched as Joe carefully replaced the weapon safely into the holster before returning the belt to him.  Making a mental note, Adam decided he would talk to his father about getting Joe his own gun for Christmas.


                    *********


"Hey Joe, you about ready for supper?"  Adam called from the open doorway to Joe's room.

"Hum, yeah." Mildly taken aback, Joe looked up from the desk in his room where he'd been putting the finishing touches on one of the paragraphs to his essay.

"Whatcha working on?"  

"Homework."  Joe griped correcting the spelling to one of the words within the body of his text.

Adam grinned in response knowing his baby brother's disdain for schoolwork.  "Need any help?"

"Nah, almost finished."  Joe proudly announced holding the papers up in his hands.

"Well, best get washed up then."  Adam added before turning away.  Snapping his right fingers, Adam turned back to address his youngest brother.

In the past, Adam's habit of snapping his fingers to get his attention had always annoyed Little Joe.  But now the simple sound was like music to his ears.  

"Oh I almost forgot.  If you hurry home from school tomorrow, Pa said you could help me down at the corral."

Joe's face broke out into a broad smile at the thought of helping his brother down at the corral.  It had been a long summer for both him and his brother, but along the way they learned a great deal about the other.  Glancing down, he studied the essay in his hands and decided he could finish this assignment later.  Throwing down his pencil, he called after his older brother.

"Hey Adam, wait up!"

The End


RETURN TO LIBRARY