Blood is thicker than Water
Written by: Starlite
Easily shouldering the bulky weight upon his shoulder, the big man purposefully
strode from the General Store. His large feet resoundly echoed on
the wooden sidewalk as he made his way towards the awaiting buckboard.
He took great care not to dislodge his favorite dirty white ten-gallon hat
from his head.
"Hoss!"
The large framed man turned awkwardly to the right at the sound of his
name, while trying to keep the large sack of grain positioned on his shoulder.
Not seeing the source and assuming he was hearing things, the biggest of
the Cartwright clan returned his attention back to the sack and its destination.
"Hoss Cartwright!"
Hearing his name called yet again, the large man stopped abruptly and frowned.
He scrunched up his face, the twang in the voice sounded vaguely familiar,
but he just couldn't place it to a face.
Smiling smugly, Little Joe Cartwright strolled out of the general store
comparing the list of supplies to the bill of sale. He was quite pleased
with himself after having 'convinced' his big brother into doing the 'easy'
chore. Afterall, everyone knew how hard all that figuring was, and carrying
a 50-lb. bag of feed was a walk in the park for someone built like Hoss Cartwright.
Finally Hoss's mind came up with a face to match the voice. With
a broad grin, he swung around to his left. Looking for the familiar
face, he released the heavy grain sack.
With his head bent down studying the two pieces of paper he held in his
hands, Joe Cartwright did not realize his brother had stopped and plowed into
him. The resulting impact caused the smaller of the two men to stagger
backwards. Little Joe was just about to give Hoss the tongue lashing
of his life when he found a large grain sack descending upon him, which was
rapidly approaching his face. Trying to avoid a direct impact with
his nose, Joe jumped back and once more stumbled, tripping over a loose plank
in the wooden walkway. Reaching out to right himself, Joe grabbed onto
the nearest object within arms distance, which unfortunately happened to
be one of the town's leading female members of the temperance league.
Both fell onto the bench in front of the mercantile with Joe sitting on the
older woman's lap.
"Well I never!" The older woman protested indignantly.
"No ma'am, neither have I." Joe tried in vain to sound apologetic
while attempting to gracefully extricate himself from the woman's lap.
Though there had been many occasions with a young lady on his lap, he could
not recall a single instance of the roles being reversed.
Little Joe felt the sharp sting of a resounding slap upon the left side
of his cheek before being shoved unceremoniously to the sidewalk. He
raised his hand to rub at the sore spot on his face.
"Muley Jones." Smiling broadly, Hoss reached out to warmly grasp
the hand that belonged with the voice.
"Cousin Hoss." The curly dark haired man's face mirrored his cousin's
with an equally broad and somewhat goofy grin.
Both men embraced, slapping each other soundly on the back.
"You ole hound dog. How ya been?" Hoss intoned with a broad
tooth-gapped grin.
"Fine, Cousin Hoss just fine."
"Joe, Joe…" Hoss looked around for his little brother and was stunned to
find him lying on the boardwalk.
Using his right arm to lean on the fallen sack of grain. Joe propped
his chin upon his hand, and beheld the sappy sight before him.
"Whatcha doing down there little brother?" Hoss asked seeing his
brother's dour expression.
"Resting." Looking upward from the corner of his eye, Joe Cartwright
responded with more than a hint of disgust in his voice.
"Well git up afore someone thinks you're a little tetched." Hoss
warned.
"Heh, me a little touched!" Joe muttered under his breath taking
in the sight of his cousin.
There stood the Cartwright cousin, grinning from ear to ear like a simpleton.
Muley still wore a hat that was pushed back on his head that looked like
something a 10 year-old would wear. Not to mention, his tweed coat
jacket sleeves and the legs of his pants were a good couple of inches too
short. Joe rolled his eyes and stifled a gag taking in the appearance
of the citified country boy that stood next to his brother.
Noticing the stares of some passerbys, Joe quickly got to his feet when
Muley approached the youngest Cartwright.
"Cousin Joe!" Muley excitedly announced grabbing Joe Cartwright's
right hand before he could protest or pull away.
Joe thought his hand would be crushed or his arm dislocated from his shoulder
as Muley over enthusiastically shook his hand. Trying to keep a pleasant
look upon his face while his eyebrows rose to meet over his nose, and tears
formed in his eyes, Joe managed to extricate his hand.
Once free, Little Joe lost all interest in the conversation between his
older brother and cousin. He was more interested in grabbing a beer
before heading back to the Ponderosa. Glancing about to see if any townspeople
were taking in the reunion spectacle, he noticed a mule. The mule Joe
instantly recognized as belonging to his cousin, but beside it was the strangest
looking shaggy dog that Joe had ever seen in his life. Leaning forward
and squinting, Joe peered at the hairy animal. He was certain there
was something resembling a small hat upon the critter's head. Little
Joe was brought out of his musings by a sharp hard slap to the center of
his back that caused him to stumble forward.
"Steady there boy." Hoss reached out and grabbed his brother by the
upper arm, setting Joe back firmly upon his feet. "You're looking
a mite peaked, we best get on home."
Joe was not happy to find himself being escorted back toward the buckboard
by his arm. He was further humiliated when Hoss easily lifted him
and placed him into the back of the wagon on top of the sacks of grain,
as though he were a small child. Tipping his hat to cover most of
his face, Joe slunk down into the bags of feed, he no longer wanted a beer.
On the journey back to the ranch, Joe absently listened to Cousin Muley's
sad tale of woe. Seemed his bright idea of raising hound dogs hadn't
paid off, nor his relationship with the hot headed yellow pig-tailed young
woman. So Muley had gone into raising Angora goats in the hopes of
selling the hair, but that hadn't gone well either. Most people didn't
want to deal with the strange fur and only the wolves seemed fond of the
meat.
Little Joe glanced out from under the brim of his hat at the 'ugly' dog
and the mule that were tied to the back of the wagon, wondering what his father
would think of their Cousin making another visit. He snorted aloud
and fought to conceal his amusement when he heard Muley exclaim that he wanted
to learn to be a rancher.
Hoss shot his brother a warning glance over his shoulder when he heard
his younger brother's snicker.
"Yep, that's what I wanna be Hoss. A rancher." Muley reaffirmed
loudly.
That was all it took for Little Joe to break out into his infectious giggle,
once again he stared at the furry creature and the mule trailing behind.
He could definitely see his cousin and older brother on a pair of jackasses
rounding up that hairy herd for market all adorned with little straw hats
upon their heads.
"Joe!" Hoss barked in a threatening manner, his jaw set and his blue
eyes blazing. The stern look upon Hoss's face made the younger man
laugh all the harder.
Muley seemed oblivious to the mirth of his younger cousin as he continued
on with the tale of his dreams to own his own ranch and raise goats.
******************
Ben Cartwright sat at his desk in the study pouring over the payroll ledgers.
Unconsciously, he rubbed his shoulder and flexed the fingers of his right
hand. He'd forgotten how exuberant Cousin Muley's handshake could
be. He looked up when he heard the front door open, he hoped it was
his oldest son with a promising report on the spring roundup.
Adam Cartwright entered the ranch house. He was worn out, hungry
and in dire need of a bath. It had been a long day of branding and
he was quite put out of sorts, because his irresponsible younger siblings
had neglected to show up and do their parts. He suspected that their
trip back from town for supplies was delayed by a side excursion to the
saloon for a beer or two, and perhaps a game of poker.
He stopped by the open door to take off his hat and gun belt before carefully
removing his chaps and rolling them up. Adam froze when he heard loud
angry Chinese, then the strange sound of small hooves scraping the wooden
walkway behind him.
Adam watched in utter confusion as a small longhaired animal ran past his
right leg, proceeding across the great room heading for the stairs.
His mouth hung open and his eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what
type of creature that was, and why on earth was it wearing a small straw
hat adorned with a daisy. He could clearly understand why Hop Sing
was irate; the furry beast had one end of the clothesline in its mouth and
was trailing today's washing behind it.
"What the devil!" Ben Cartwright roared rising from his chair behind
the desk to follow the animal up the stairs.
Adam was still standing there gaping at the scene being played out before
him when he felt a tremendous blow strike him squarely in the back causing
him to fall face first to the floor. Sprawled upon the floorboards,
he noticed the large black boots of his brother Hoss proceed before his
eyes running towards the stairs. Using his hands, Adam attempted to
push himself to his feet.
"Git 'em Hoss! Its' got my best shirt!"
Adam heard his baby brother's exclamation of urgency and anger before feeling
a solid weight between his shoulder blades. Once again his body was
pushed abruptly downwards. Glancing up from where he lay, he watched
as Little Joe's dusty tan suede boots joined the pursuit.
Finally feeling the coast was clear; Adam carefully rose to his knees and
placed a hand to his lower back before standing.
"Cousin Adam!" A most unfortunate and very familiar voice enthusiastically
called out.
"I might have known." Adam sarcastically muttered with a sardonic
grin before turning to face the voice. "Cousin Muley." Placing his hand
to his chest, Adam carefully protected his hand and arm from his gregarious
cousin's warm welcome.
"Uh, by any chance…"
"They went thataway." Adam replied with a droll and mocking tone
as he cocked his head, then pointed to the stairs. Closing his eyes
he pinched the bridge of his nose with his right index finger and thumb.
Shaking his head in mild disdain and not for the first time since meeting
his cousin all those years ago, he wondered what nut was responsible for
this squirrel being on the Cartwright family tree.
"Get that infernal beast out of this house!"
Adam opened one eye, cocked his head and raised an eyebrow to look toward
the ceiling. A silly bemused grin formed upon his lips at the sound
of his father's belligerent yell. Shaking his head he bent over to
retrieve his fallen chaps. He had no sooner straightened, when he saw
the strange creature with the straw-hat approach. Once again his eyes
followed the animal's hasty retreat through the open door. He'd just
turned back to the center of the room when a large blur of white plowed into
him. Finding his body flying backward, Adam landed with a resounding
thud onto his back.
"Catch 'em Hoss!"
Adam managed to raise his arms just in time to protect his face, when a
booted foot stepped firmly into the center of his chest, and then was gone.
Groaning, Adam rolled over onto his right side to watch the pursuit.
"Adam…?"
"Thataway." Adam growled pointing with his left index finger towards
the open door and the retreating forms of one hairy beast replete with straw
hat, a daisy and today's wash; as well as his two younger brothers.
In a huff, Adam slammed the door closed once Muley's had cleared the open
doorway.
"What are you doing lying on the floor?"
Adam heard a disembodied voice bellow from nearby and looked up into the
very exasperated and distraught face of his father.
"Resting." Adam replied calmly, his sarcastic tone of voice not lost
on his father.
"Well if you're that tired, go to bed!" Ben fired back; he was clearly
at his wit's end and had no tolerance for his own son's irreverent attitude.
Getting to his feet, Adam placed his right hand over his breastbone to
surreptitiously rub the tender spot left by his baby brother.
"I think I'll do just that." Adam pompously remarked, sauntering
purposely by his father and up the stairs to his room.
******************
Hoss Cartwright and Muley Jones walked over to the corral. After
completing the barn chores and showing his cousin the finer art of chopping
wood, Hoss was patiently explaining the painful job of breaking horses.
"Now all ya gotta do is listen to whatever Joe tells ya to do. Cus
here, he's the boss." Hoss proudly instructed indicating his little
brother, who was carefully lowering his body onto the back of a very frightened
and skittish horse.
Though most of his attention was focused upon the task at hand, which was
seating himself securely onto the back of the soon to be bucking bronco.
Little Joe smiled to himself when he noticed his bigger brother and cousin
approach the wooden fence. Joe loved attention and relished the opportunity
to show off for his family and friends. Nodding to the man beside
the chute, Joe barked out the instruction:
"Open the gate!"
Ever the one to be helpful and wanting to follow his big cousin's instruction
to do whatever Little Joe said to do, Muley rushed over to the corral fence.
Releasing the lash, he threw open the gate and watched as the recently broken
and unbroken herd of horses made a frenzy dash for freedom.
Joe was stunned by the sight of the fleeing herd before him. Losing
all train of thought and concentration, he found his body sailing through
the air to land in a cloud of dust and fresh horse droppings. Shocked,
he laid there with his mouth gaping, while watching the silver gray mare
that had just thrown him, gallop off to join the others. He noted absently
that it was still bucking to unsuccessfully free itself of the offending
saddle.
Hoss stood wide-eyed and gulped. How to explain this one to Pa?
"ALL OF THEM?" Ben Cartwright bellowed, rattling the panes of glass
in the downstairs windows.
Joe winced and shied away from his father at the dinner table. His
lip rolled into a sneer when he turned his full glare upon his older brother
sitting across the table from him. Let me handle it, he says. Boy,
he sure does know how to handle their Pa - yeah right, sure he does!
While visions of mucking out stalls and cleaning outhouses until he was 90
traipsed through Joe's mind. Joe noticed that Hoss's eyebrows were
almost to his receding hairline and he'd just swallowed deeply as though
he were fighting to keep down what little dinner he'd just eaten down.
Joe thought if Hoss continued to fidget by tightly wringing the red checkered
cloth napkin in his massive hands, it might turn into a spring and smack
him in the face.
Seeing the darkening shade of crimson creeping slowly across the Cartwright
patriarch's visage, Adam definitely could see the tale tell signs of an
impending storm and devoted his full attention to counting the peas on his
dinner plate.
"Well, ya see Cousin Ben. It's kinda my fault." Muley tried
to interject on behalf of his younger cousins.
Darn straight it’s your fault, both Hoss and Joe thought to themselves,
then joined in glaring at their cousin.
"Ya see, I was just trying to be helpful and when Joe ordered the gate
open, I just…"
Muley stopped his sorrowful explanation when he saw Ben Cartwright raise
a hand and shake his head woefully to cease any further explanation.
He was certain he now had the full picture. Taking a deep breath to
lower his blood pressure and attempt to calm his nerves, Ben chose his words
carefully.
"Accidents do happen."
"Even to the best of families." Adam sarcastically muttered under
his breath then took a sip from his water glass, before he found his father's
full attention directed at him. He noticed his Pa's right eyebrow
raise slightly before the silver-haired man spoke again.
"Tomorrow, you all will assist Adam with the branding chores."
A chorus of "But Pa" followed from both Adam and Little Joe. Neither
man wanted to be subjected to the 'accident waiting to happen' known as
their cousin, Muley. As far as they were concerned, he was Hoss's
stray, let Hoss take care of him.
Ben raised his right hand to stave off the objections now being issued
by his sons.
"Joseph, we were several weeks ahead of schedule with the horses.
Adam, just this morning you were complaining about the extra calves and needing
more hands. Well now you have them." Ben momentarily paused
when he waved a gracious hand over the table indicating the other members
of the family.
"Now you have the extra hands that you need. When the branding is
complete, you can help Joe with rounding up those horses and breaking them
in."
Ben in turn looked at each one of his sons, indicating that he would entertain
no further complaint from any of them. When he looked to his cousin
to insure that he had heard the dictate, Ben realized the man seemed totally
oblivious to the disharmony of which he was the source. Disaffected
by the animosity looming around the dining room, Muley continued to eat.
Suddenly losing their appetites, Adam and Joe excused themselves from the
table. Recognizing a brewing storm, Ben rose to talk quietly with
his eldest. Reaching out, he grabbed Adam by his right elbow and drew
him close so they could talk privately.
"Adam, no matter what you think, he is family. And blood is thicker
than water." Ben knew his eldest son did not suffer fools lightly,
and hoped to reason with his firstborn son to quell any further dispute.
Adam glanced back over to the two men seated at the table; one with a red
checkered napkin tucked into his stiff starched shirt collar. Both
seemed to be in some type of food eating contest and he rolled his eyes at
the sight.
"Yeah, he's thick alright." Adam drolly intoned before carefully
disengaging his arm from his father's grasp and making his way upstairs
to his room. Something told him that tomorrow was going to be a very
long day.
******************
Hoss held out the lasso once more trying to show the fine art of roping
to his cousin. They'd been out on the range for hours and the only creature
that Muley had successfully ensnared was his own horse, three times.
"Alright Muley, this here's how it's done. You take a length of the
rope like this and form a loop. Then you…" Hoss patiently demonstrated
for his cousin. He was concentrating on his teaching and didn't notice
that the other man was no longer paying him any mind.
"I got one! Look Cousin Hoss, I got one!" Muley exclaimed excitedly,
pulling sharply on the rope that was affixed to something hidden behind
some tall brush.
Hoss Cartwright broke out into raucous howls of laughter when he saw what
stood at the end of Muley's rope.
"Ha Ha." Little Joe Cartwright sneered. "Gimme that!"
He demanded pulling the rope free from his cousin's hands.
"What were you doing in there, cousin?" Muley was dumbfounded at
the sight of the youngest Cartwright emerging from the bushes, which brought
even more hoots of laughter from the middle Cartwright son.
Adam Cartwright rode up on his spirited mount and surveyed the situation
with a wary eye. He'd come in search of his middle brother and cousin,
who had not been seen in hours, and had found both, as well as his baby
brother. He stepped down and carefully approached noting his one brother's
obvious fury, the other's hilarity and finally his cousin, who was being
true to form as he stood there in his usual bewildered state of confusion.
"Would someone care to explain what's going on around here?" Adam
patiently inquired with his left eyebrow raised as he appraised each in turn.
Seeing that no answer was forthcoming, Adam approached his youngest sibling.
"I always knew this would happen one day, Little Joe." Adam quietly
intoned, causing Hoss to stop his laughter to hear what his older brother
was about to say.
"I always figured that when it came time for you to tie the knot…" Adam
added while he lifted the loop from around his baby brother's head.
"That it would be a shotgun wedding, not a hanging." Adam concluded,
while rolling the lasso up in his hands.
This brought more gales of laughter from Adam's larger brother and even
a couple of chuckles from their cousin. Little Joe on the other hand
could only see red. Balling his hands into fists, he stormed off in
the direction of Cochise. Leaping into the saddle, Joe Cartwright
rode away, he'd had enough of smart-alecky brothers, dumb cousins and smelly
steers.
Turning his attention back to the source of his search, he addressed his
brother and cousin.
"Where have the two of you been? I have yet to see you bring a single
steer over to the branding pits?" Adam demanded, his mood suddenly
serious and back to business.
"Ya see it's all my fault, cousin." Muley attempted to apologize
seeing the dark expression that befell Adam Cartwright's face.
Why am I not surprised? Adam wondered, crossing his arms over his
chest and giving his cousin his full attention.
Muley Jones felt his cousin's dark hazel eyes bore through him, nervously
he began to pull at the collar of his long johns undershirt. Swallowing,
he turned pleading eyes to his other cousin.
Seeing his cousin obvious discomfort, Hoss cleared his throat to address
his older and very displeased sibling.
"Well, ya see it's like this…" Hoss paused and swallowed hard when he saw
Adam's penetrating glare now directed towards him.
"Yes, you were saying?" With raised eyebrow, Adam addressed Hoss
by interrupting the growing silence caused by his brother's hesitation.
Deciding it was better than trying to explain the situation to his brother
or make excuses, Hoss felt it best to just give the plain truth to Adam.
"Doggone it Adam, he just ain't no good at it."
Adam shook his head in acknowledgement. Reaching up he tugged at
his left earlobe before studying the ground below his feet. He knew
his father expected that he show Muley about rounding up steers, but this
was one lesson Adam was sure he was not qualified to teach, at least not
to this pupil. Realizing the only way to get any work done, Adam decided
to redistribute the workload.
"Alright, let's see if you're any better at branding than you are at roping."
Adam handed the rope back to his cousin before mounting his horse and heading
back to the branding pits with his new hands.
******************
"Okay Muley, just hold him down." Adam directed moving forward with
branding iron in hand.
For a fairly big man, Muley struggled with the animal finally releasing
the young steer with a strangled yelp, when it head-butted him below the belt.
Might not have to worry about that arm of the Cartwright tree branching
any further. Wincing in sympathy, Adam mused to himself as he watched
his cousin writhe upon the dusty ground. He waited until Muley had regained
his composure before beginning again.
"This is how it's done." Adam Cartwright drew a small steer over
near the branding pits. Putting his left knee onto the side of the
calf, he used his hands to hold the head still, which placed his full body
weight into pinning the animal to the ground.
"But Cousin Adam, ain't that a little cruel?" Muley wondered watching
the small creature struggle beneath his cousin's weight.
"No, it's not." Adam answered beginning to lose his patience.
"But ain't ya hurting the poor little critter?" Muley persisted with
his argument, he was beginning to wonder if he was up to wrestling with
those cute little white faced calves.
"Muley, would you go and get a branding iron and bring it over here."
Adam practically yelled at his cousin, as the young steer continued to struggle
beneath him, almost causing him to lose his grip.
Muley shrugged his shoulders in defeat and walked over to the fire and
the branding irons. Grabbing the first one he found; he turned to
make his way back to this cousin.
"No that one, get one that's hot!" Sweat now forming on his brow
and trickling down the sides of his face from his exertions, Adam commanded
in exasperation.
Rolling his shoulders, Muley went back to the fire. Grabbing an iron
that glowed with a nice shade of orange, he returned to where his cousin
sat with the little steer.
Taking a calming breath, Adam verified that the iron was nice and hot,
before returning his full attention to holding the squirming young calf
still.
"Now just do like I showed you."
The sight of the iron burning into the hides of the young steers made the
other man almost sick to his stomach. Unable to watch, Muley closed
his eyes and turned his head away before thrusting the hot branding iron
forward, hoping to hit his target.
"YEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
The piercing yell shattered the quiet calm of the peaceful spring afternoon.
Birds alit from their trees to fly for safety; small rabbits scurried from
their hovels in search of quieter refuge, while white tailed deer frantically
ran for parts unknown.
******************
"Get away from me. Let me go, I can walk!"
Ben Cartwright looked up from his ledgers at the sound of footsteps on
the front porch and his eldest son's very irate voice. Hearing the
unlatching of the front door, he rose to greet his son.
"I'm alright, let me go!" Adam demanded pulling his arm from Hoss's
massive grip.
"Adam?" Ben inquired seeing his oldest son pushing his brother away.
"And you, you stay away from me." Adam ordered pointing an accusing
finger at his cousin.
Hearing the commotion from the kitchen, Little Joe rounded the corner of
the dining room with apple in hand. Taking a bite from the red fruit,
he watched his family in confused fascination; he could tell that Adam was
definitely worked up into a state over something.
"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" Ben demanded placing
his hands upon his hips and addressing the three men bickering before him.
"I'm awfully sorry, Cousin Adam." Muley's voice was plaintive in
tone.
"You've said that already." Adam angrily retorted.
"Now Adam, you know he didn't mean nothing by it." Hoss was growing
tired of his older brother's behavior and was beginning to get a little
miffed.
"You stay out of this." Adam warned pointing a finger in Hoss's face.
Joe inched forward, cocking his head to the side he studied what looked
to be a tear in the back of his brother's pants. Taking another bite
from his apple, he tentatively reached out with his free right hand in the
direction of Adam's backside.
"Stay away." Adam snorted as he slapped his baby brother's hand.
"ENOUGH!" Ben bellowed insuring that he had everyone's full attention
before continuing, "Now, would someone be so kind as to tell me what's going
on?"
"Pa, he didn't mean to do it." Hoss offered in his cousin's defense.
"I'm awfully sorry, Cousin Ben." Muley pleaded.
"Yeah, yeah. I've heard that one before." Adam griped before
swatting at his youngest brother's hand once more.
Closing his eyes in frustration and beginning to wonder if he'd ever get
his simple question answered, Ben Cartwright drew a deep calming breath
before addressing his first born son.
"Adam, what happened?"
Glancing first to his right and his large younger brother, before glaring
to his left where his sorrowful cousin stood. Adam's unleashed a torrent
of unbridled fury, which caused Muley to back away in mild terror.
"He branded me!"
Nodding, Joe confirmed Adam's accusation by poking his finger at his oldest
brother's wounded pride before Adam could slap his hand away once more.
He noticed with much chagrin that at least Muley managed to get something
right.
"Yep right on older brother's…"
"JOSEPH!"
******************
Fingering the polished metal of the antique weapon, Ben Cartwright lightly
rubbed the barrel of the pistol with the oiled rag. Once satisfied
that the old musket gun positively gleamed, he decided to take the weapon
out back to see if it was still able to fire. Reaching down he tore
open the packet of gunpowder and carefully poured the contents into the mouth
of the barrel, followed by a wad of cloth. Taking the ramming rod,
he packed it in tightly. Following that task, he dropped in the round
lead ball and tapped it securely into place.
Yes, this is a fine piece of weaponry. Ben thought while he beheld
the gun in his hands. He was startled from his admiration by the announced
presence of his youngest child.
"Hey Pa, whatcha got there?"
"Hum? This is a pistol that I inherited from my great-grandfather.
I found it last week in one of the old trunks in the storage room."
Ben replied as he held the gun out for Little Joe to see.
Taking the pistol from his father's grip, Joe began to finger the smooth
cool metal and sight the weapon.
"Careful, I just loaded it." Ben warned, rising from his chair and
walking around the desk to stand near his son.
Joe and Ben stood side by side admiring the antiquated pistol when Hoss
and Muley entered the room from the front door. Seeing his father, Hoss
approached the two men with his cousin not far behind.
"Hey, whatcha got there?" Hoss called out nearing his family.
"Great great-grandfather's pistol," Joe responded, handing it over to his
large brother.
"Woo wee, it sure is a beaut." Hoss declared feeling the balance
of the pistol, while holding it at arm's length to marvel at its luster.
"Careful…" Ben advised, but was a moment too late. He watched helplessly
as Muley grabbed the gun from his cousin's massive grip.
"Boy, it sure is purty. I remember a fella once had a gun like this.
He was using it in some type of duel over some pretty little thing and when…"
Muley demonstrated by pointing the pistol heavenward, suddenly a reverberating
crack shattered the peaceful late spring morning.
Adam Cartwright rolled gently onto his side before sitting up gingerly.
After much arguing, pleading and cajoling the night before, he'd finally let
his father tend to his injury. He figured his father had let him sleep
in late, after slipping him some sleeping powder the night before.
Adam had let his father think he was unaware of his actions, but Adam was
quite aware of his father's actions and secretly was grateful for both the
powder and the extra sleep.
This morning he was feeling considerably better, though he was still a
little tender, he found the ache annoying but not unbearable. Standing
he tested the muscles in his backside, before walking carefully over to the
wall to retrieve his black jeans from the hook. Once he had slipped
the stiff fabric on, he made his way to the wash stand. Completing
his shave, he returned to the hook and grabbed his black shirt and lightly
tossed it onto the bed. He stopped briefly at his bureau to retrieve
a pair of socks, which joined his shirt on the bed. Finding his boots,
Adam went back to the bed and sat down gingerly to begin the task of putting
on his socks and boots. He'd no sooner finished putting on his right
sock and boot, and was pulling the pant's leg over the boot top when he heard
a loud bang below him.
Startled, he leaned back on the bed and observed a small object appear
before his face, flying upward to the rafters of his room. Squinting
he attempted to follow the projectile's path. Raising his face to
the ceiling, he watched intently while a small round metal ball connected
with one of the wooden beams causing it to ricochet downwards. Continuing
to follow the trajectory, he noticed the object fall to the floor near his
foot and roll over to his now discarded left boot.
Bending, he picked up the small round metal ball. Holding it between
his index finger and thumb he studiously examined it, before looking to
the nice circular hole it had produced in his room's floor.
"Hack, hack." Joe coughed and sputtered, waving futilely at the gunpowder
cloud that engulfed the large room of the Ponderosa ranch house.
"You were saying?" In blatant annoyance, Ben angrily turned a steely
eye and his full attention from the hole in his main room's ceiling, to
his country cousin.
"Gimme that!" Hoss demanded, trying to yank the pistol away from
his cousin before he could cause any further damage. His efforts were
stalled by a most unusual noise.
Bump
Thump
BUMP
THUMP
All eyes were drawn to the top of the stairs at the sound of angry mismatched
footsteps descending the walkway. Ben, Hoss and Joe instantly recognized
the furious scowl upon Adam's face.
Wearing only his black jeans and one boot, Adam descended the stairs with
his shirt and left boot in one hand.
BUMP
THUMP
Bump
Thump
Slowly with even purposeful strides, Adam made his way from the stairs
over to where his family stood with their mouths hanging open. To
those who knew him well, Adam was a man enraged. Not knowing who Adam
would target to vent his rage, and more than a little uncertain of their
totally perturbed oldest brother. Joe emitted a small squeak, then
took a step backward to stand behind his father placing a hand upon the older
man's arm. Even Hoss was frightened, and if the situation weren't
so serious, Ben would have chuckled when he realized that his large middle
son had stepped nearer to him for protection.
Looking first to his father and brothers, Adam turned an evil eye to the
culprit. Grabbing the man's free hand with the one that held his shirt
and boot, Adam opened his cousin's fist and with his other hand plopped
the small round metal ball into the center of Muley's palm.
"I believe you lost one." Adam sarcastically articulated. Turning
on his booted heel, he slowly made his way from the room and through the
open front door.
Ben, Hoss and Joe Cartwright first glanced at the object that Adam had
deposited in their cousin's outstretched hand, then to the door as the partially
clad Adam departed.
In confusion, Muley Jones could only wonder about his cousin Adam's bizarre
behavior while staring at the marble sitting harmlessly in the center of
his palm.
******************
Adam Cartwright rode into the high meadow. He knew he should spend
more time at the branding pits, but somehow the smell of burning flesh resurfaced
unpleasant memories from an all too recent bad experience. Deciding
his time would be better spent if he were away from the taunting branding
crew; not to mention as far away from his lackadaisical cousin as was humanly
possible.
Glancing about the wooded countryside Adam spotted a small herd of wild
horses, among them was a gray mare, with a saddle still situated precariously
upon its back. Realizing this must be some of the ones that were inadvertently
released by his cousin, Adam slowly retrieved his rope from his saddle horn
before quietly nudging Sport forward to approach the group.
Maintaining a downwind position, Adam circled slowly to not startle the
animals. As soon as he felt that he was within range, he swung the loop
of rope over his head. After its release, the rope landed gracefully
upon the semi-saddled gray mare. There was a small struggle as the now
lassoed horse rebelled, but with long years of practice Adam easily subdued
and quieted the animal.
After wrapping the rope about the saddle horn, Adam carefully dismounted
Sport and approached the terrified mare. Nearing the horse, Adam spoke
soothing words of comfort to the frightened beast in an attempt to calm
the mare. He felt if he could remove the offending saddle from its
back, that he'd have a better chance of leading it home to the corral.
With the patience of Job, Adam slowly undid the buckle of the cinch, all
the while talking smoothly to the mare. After releasing the belt,
he carefully pulled the saddle from the horse. Stepping back from
the mare, he laid the leather seat onto the ground.
Confident that he now had the gray mare in a more controllable state, Adam
returned to his own horse and remounted. Removing the rope from the
saddle horn, Adam grasped the rough hemp length in one hand and the reins
of Sport in the other. With a simple nudge of his knee and a dipping
of the rein he indicated to his mount, to begin the journey home.
He was stopped short by a loud warning shout.
"TIMBER!"
Hearing the warning yell followed by a loud cracking of snapping wood,
Adam swiftly spurred his horse up the steep slope away from the falling
Ponderosa. Unable to control his mount and hold the rope, Adam released
the line, freeing the gray mare once more. A safe distance away, the
eldest Cartwright son paused to look back and watched while the tree toppled
to the ground with a momentous crash.
Surprised and stunned by nearly being crushed by the felled tree, Adam
stopped to count his blessings. His relief was quickly dissipated
by a resurgence of rage when he noticed Hoss and Muley approach to trim
the branches off the fallen pine.
Exercising patience he didn't realize he still possessed, Adam walked Sport
down the slope toward his unsuspecting younger brother and cousin. Both
men were deep in conversation and totally unaware of Adam's deathly quiet
advance. Slowly Adam neared the two men, blocking out the light of
the sun over them.
Noticing the unexplained shadow, Hoss turned to look to the sky for a change
of weather. He almost jumped out of his skin when he found the enraged
scowl of his older brother staring down at him. Turning around, Hoss
watched as the angry form of his brother dismounted and closed in upon him.
"Hey Adam, ain't ya spose to be at the branding pits?" Hoss gulped
and swallowed, uncertain as to the cause of his brother's fury and suspecting
that either he or Muley must be the guilty culprits.
Hoss was fairly certain that Adam's job assignment for the day was to help
Joe finish up the branding. He also knew his father had instructed
him to keep Muley 'out of trouble', by taking him up to the north section
to remove some of the dead wood. He definitely wasn't expecting to
see Adam.
"Hey cousin." Muley happily greeted Adam, a little bewildered by
the angry glare he was once again receiving from his cousin at the moment.
Without a word, Adam drew his revolver from the holster on his hip.
Drawing ever nearer to the two now befuddled men.
"Now Adam, there ain't no call for ya to git your britches in an uproar."
Hoss tried to calm the raging fury known as Adam Cartwright.
"Uh cousin." Muley pleaded, stepping backward and raising his hands
with open palms facing toward Adam.
With well-measured strides, Adam drew closer. Stopping, he raised
an eyebrow in disdain, before rapidly turning and firing. Thereby putting
the crushed saddle out of its misery.
******************
After dinner that evening, the men of the Ponderosa rose from the dining
table and entered the large main room of the ranch house. Only cousin
Muley remained, finishing the last slice of apple pie.
Adam retreated to his favorite blue chair with leather-bound book in hand.
His father sat across the low table from him, in an overstuffed burgundy
leather one. Grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruit on the table,
Hoss proceeded to polish the fruit upon his leather vest. Taking a
seat on the low table, Joe challenged his large older brother to a game of
checkers.
"Well cousins, I've come to a decision." Muley Jones announced loudly.
Standing up from the table to approach his family, who were all relaxing
in the living room.
Little Joe looked up from where he was setting up a game of checkers.
He turned baleful pleading eyes towards his oldest brother when his recently
finished dinner threatened to make its reappearance.
"And that is?" Adam dryly pondered aloud, earning him a warning glance
from his father.
"I just don't think I'm cut out to be a rancher." Muley avowed joining
the others and stopping to stand in front of the large fireplace in the
main room.
"Now Muley, that jist ain't so. You jist gotta give yerself a little
time that's all." Hoss encouraged. Earning him a warning glance
from his father and sick look from his little brother, both of which his
older brother had received moments before.
"Well, if that's your decision." Ben hurriedly replied, then realizing
his sudden outburst hoped he didn't sound too eager in his response.
"Yes, Cousin Ben. This ranching stuff is just plain hard work, and
I'm meant for finer things." Muley answered hooking his thumbs under
his suspender straps and rocking back and forth on his heels.
"I think this calls for a drink." Adam happily announced as he practically
jumped up from his seat, tossing the book back onto the chair.
Adam quickly poured the brandy from the scarlet crystal decanter into five
small matching goblets. Moving lightly on his feet, he rapidly distributed
the glasses to his father, brothers and cousin. He was afraid to break
the spell of the moment for fear that the wannabe rancher would change his
mind.
Ben Cartwright watched his normally stoic eldest child moving swiftly and
unusually light-footed about the room dispensing the alcoholic beverages
to all present. To someone who knew Adam well, he would've declared
that Adam's demeanor was positively giddy. But Ben was somewhat giddy
himself at the thought that things would soon be back to normal with the
departure of their error prone cousin. Ben was so wrapped up in his
thoughts and dreams of normalcy upon the ranch, that he hadn't even noticed
that Muley had broken out in song in a tribute to his cousin Ben.
"And he's a Jolly Good Fellow…" Muley held the note as his voice climbed
in octave, reaching the point that only he could obtain, which threatened
the window panes of the great house.
Realizing too late, Ben moved forward to try and stop Muley's vocalizing.
Now singing wholeheartedly with his eyes closed, Muley didn't notice the
warning signal from his cousin and host. Adam placed his glass at arm's
length, with one eye partially opened to observe the impending results.
Hoss swallowed nervously and placed his wineglass onto the table before him,
he was well aware of the results of Muley's vocal talents. Little Joe
continued to hold his glass and peered closely at the object as he felt it
begin to vibrate in his hand.
In a succession of pops and crackles, five small cranberry colored wine
glasses shattered about the room. Ben closed his eyes and prayed for
patience, guidance and forgiveness. Wide-eyed, Little Joe surveyed the other
members of the room; he'd released his glass as though it had bit allowing
the remains to fall harmlessly to the floor. Hoss winced then futilely attempted
to wipe the contents from the wineglass off the leg of his pants. Adam studied
the crystal stem he still held, which was now minus the flute portion of the
glass and hoped his father wasn't too fond of the set.
Glancing about the room in general, Adam made a silent observation of the
situation in general before muttering to no one in the room in particular.
"Which nobody can deny."
The End
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