WHN False Witness
Testament of Friendship
By: Rona Y.
“Joe.” Hoss’ voice was soft
as he bent over his brother. “Joe, she’s gone.” He gently prised the dead girl
from his brother’s arms.
“I know,” Joe replied, his
voice hoarse. He let go and saw Hoss lay Valerie down in the dust of the
street. He looked up at Hoss and the older brother saw tears standing in the
younger man’s eyes. “She saved my life,” he whispered.
“I know, Joe,” Hoss
replied, still gently. “I saw.” He reached down and helped his injured brother
to his feet. Joe winced and his bad leg refused to hold his weight. “Easy now,”
Hoss told him. “Let me help ya.” He glanced up and saw Candy standing there and
jerked his head. Candy immediately got the message and picked up Joe’s
abandoned crutch and handed it to his young boss.
Slowly, the three of them
walked back to the hotel. It was no real distance, but Joe faltered part of the
way there and would have fallen if Hoss hadn’t been there to catch him. “I’m
fine,” Joe protested automatically, but his struggles to get down lacked
strength.
“Sure ya are,” Hoss agreed,
lifting Joe into his arms. “But jist let me do the walkin’.” Silently, Candy
slipped away to fetch the doctor.
********************************
“I thought I told you no
foot races, Joe,” the doctor scolded, gently.
“It weren’t ezzactly his
choice, doc,” Hoss protested. “Them yahoos didn’ think ‘bout Joe’s bad leg.”
“Billy thought about it,”
Joe replied. “That’s why he took me.” He winced as the doctor slid a pair of
scissors under the blood-stained bandage and began to snip. His leg was
extremely tender and when the bandages fell away, it was easy to see why. The
sutures had all burst. “He wanted to make me pay for shooting him in the arm.”
Troubled, Hoss didn’t
reply, as that was exactly what he had thought, too. Billy had been determined
to get back at Joe and wasn’t too fussy how he did it. Hoss was pretty sure
that as soon as the Slader gang had reached the outskirts of the town, and were
sure they weren’t being followed, they would have killed Joe and Judge Wheeler.
And Valerie would have gone with Billy to wherever they ended up next, still
believing that he was stealing money so they could have a ranch together.
“Joe, I’m going to have to
suture this leg again,” the doctor said, grimly. “And this time you really must
stay off it.”
“It ain’t worse, is it?”
Candy enquired from the other side of the room. He looked completely relaxed,
but both Joe and Hoss knew that Candy was alert, ready to react should anything
happen that might threaten Joe.
“Yes, it is,” was the
reply. “The sutures have burst, and the leg is swelling. I know I played down
the seriousness of the injury to Miss Townsend, but, Joe, this leg is in a
mess. I meant it when I said you shouldn’t walk on it. Walking down the street
to the courthouse wasn’t good for it and your fight in the street didn’t help.”
Grimacing, for Joe knew
that his leg was worse – it felt
worse – he asked, “Will this stop us going home tomorrow like we planned?”
When they had first been
told they would have to stay in town to be witnesses, Sheriff Donkel had sent a
deputy out to the trail camp to tell the other drovers. He had also sent a wire
to Ben Cartwright, the boys’ father, to tell him what was going on. Since then,
Joe had not thought about the herd they had planned to sell to the murdered Mr
Haskell, but they had planned to return home the day after the trial was over.
Now, the trial was over, but Joe knew he wouldn’t be riding anywhere.
“I really think you should
give it another day,” the doctor replied. “And you won’t be on a horse, so
you’ll have to rent a buckboard.”
“I’ll see to that,” Candy
interjected. He turned at once and went out of the bedroom.
For a moment, Joe wanted to
whine like a child. He desperately wanted to get home and recuperate in his own
home and sleep in his own bed and see his father. This last was actually the
most pressing reason of them all. Hoss was a great nurse, gentle and thoughtful
and patient, but Joe longed for his father when he was hurt. But his pride
wouldn’t let him behave like the child he no longer was and he just sighed,
instead. “Then I guess we’ll have to wait,” he agreed, but he didn’t fool Hoss
one bit.
“I’ll give you something to
make you sleep,” the doctor told Joe. “So quite likely you wouldn’t feel like
travelling tomorrow anyway. Just be sure not to walk on it more than is
absolutely necessary and you should have full use of it back within a couple of
months.”
As the doctor reached into
his bag for the chloroform, Joe looked despairingly at Hoss. A couple of months! he thought and
winced. Hoss was looking at Joe and frowning, too, knowing how Joe hated to be
laid up. “Joe…”he began, then didn’t know what to say.
“It’s all right, Hoss,” Joe
replied. He summoned a ragged smile. “Why don’t you go and get something to eat
while the doctor sorts my leg?”
“I’m gonna wait here till I
know yer all right,” Hoss reproved him, gently. He twinkled gently at Joe. “An’
then I’ll git somethin’ ta eat,” he concluded and was relieved and pleased when
his brother laughed at his joke. Actually, he thought, as he watched Joe slide
into a drugged sleep, that wasn’t such a bad idea. He was a mite hungry…
***************************
Joe spent the majority of
the next day in bed with his leg elevated. The doctor came in to check on him
at night and proclaimed himself happier. “But I’m not thrilled with the idea of
you travelling,” he admitted. “However, I know you’ve been here in Sand Dust
longer than you ever expected, so just let me give you a little advice.” He
glanced at Hoss and Candy, too, to make sure that they were listening. “Don’t
walk anywhere you don’t have to. Elevate the leg as much as possible and don’t
travel too far each day. See your own doctor when you get home.”
“I’m sure Doc Martin will
be thrilled by that,” Joe commented, wryly.
Smiling, the doctor patted
Joe on the shoulder. “Goodbye, Joe.”
“Bye, doc, and thanks,” Joe
called after him. Hoss followed the doctor out to the living room of their suite
and accepted extra bandages, so he could keep the bandage as clean as
possible. Once the man was gone, Hoss
returned to the room, where Candy once more had out his pack of cards.
“Well, I guess we’ll be on
our way tomorra,” he mentioned, as he tucked the bandages away into a
saddlebag. “That is, if’n Candy’s got us a buckboard.”
“Of course I have!” Candy
retorted. “I told you I’d get one.”
“How much is it costing
us?” Joe asked. “Remember, we didn’t get paid for the herd, either.” He
frowned, wondering what on earth they were going to do with the cattle.
“Actually, we did,” Candy
responded and stood up to dig deep into his pants’ pocket. He drew out a large
roll of notes and handed them over to Hoss. “Some fella, I’ve forgotten his
name, has taken over Haskell’s business. He offered us the same price as
Haskell, so I accepted. And the buckboard ain’t costin’ us anythin’. Sheriff
Donkel is lending it to us.” He watched Hoss count it. “Haskell’s nephew!” he
exclaimed. “That’s who’s taken on the business. I still can’t remember his
name, though.”
“I don’t care what his name
was,” Joe replied, taking the money from Hoss. “As long as he paid us, I don’t
care who he is.”
“I thought I did pretty
good, too,” Candy replied, modestly. “You don’t need to thank me.”
Exchanging a look, Hoss
said to Joe, “Give him his money, Joe. I think we should jist let him git on
the train to
“No, that’s all right,”
Candy averred. “I’ll come along home with you – just to make sure you get there
of course.”
“Very magnanimous of you,”
Joe commented.
“Gee, that’s a big word,
Joe,” Candy gasped, looking wide-eyed. “Did you read a dictionary today?”
He ducked as Joe lobbed a
pillow in his direction. “Just for that,” Joe told him, “I aim to relieve you
of all your money playing poker.”
“You can try,” Candy
sniggered. “You can try.”
***************************************
It was still early as
Sheriff Donkel helped Joe hop awkwardly down the last of the hotel stairs and outside
to where the buckboard was waiting. Chubb and Cochise were tethered to the back
of the buckboard and their saddles and other supplies were lying in the back.
Hoss turned around and took Joe from the sheriff.
“I can get into the
buckboard myself,” Joe told him, slightly embarrassed to have been receiving
help from a stranger.
“I’m sure ya can,” Hoss
agreed, catching hold of Joe around the waist, “but I ain’t got nuthin’ else ta
do.” He watched to make sure Joe was settled, seeing him put his foot on the
floor of the buckboard, then wince and move it to the front running plate. He
turned. “Thanks again, Sheriff,” he added. “An’ thanks fer the buckboard. I’ll
see ya git it back safe.”
“No hurry,” Donkel replied.
“Ya ready?” Hoss asked,
picking up the reins.
Candy, who was mounted on
his own horse, replied, “I been ready since we got here.”
“It’s a long way home,”
Hoss nodded.
“And some people never get
there,” Joe added quietly and the others said nothing, knowing that Joe was
thinking of Valerie. Hoss slapped the reins on the team’s backs and the
buckboard rattled quietly down the street.
“They was good people,”
Jenson, the deputy, ventured.
“Sure were,” Donkel agreed.
“If it wasn’t for them, the Slader gang would still be roaming around free.” He
sighed. “I never thought of Valerie Townsend being a member of the gang. No
wonder we couldn’t catch them! She was telling them our every move.”
“She done right in the end,
though,” Jenson mused, as they walked back down to the jail house. “I never thought
she had it in her.”
“I never thought she had it
in her to go out with an outlaw!” Donkel snorted. He opened the door to the
jail and went in, smiling briefly at Judge Wheeler. The two men shared an
abiding respect for each other that had survived the Sladers’ attempt to
escape. “Is that you ready to go, Judge?” Donkel asked.
“I’m leaving on the
“Just a few minutes ago,”
Donkel confirmed.
“That’s a family I’ve got a
lot of time for,” Wheeler commented. “I’d heard of the Ponderosa, of course,
but I’d never come across any of the Cartwrights before. Brave men, both of
them. And Mr Canaday, too. Joe handled himself very well.” He rose. “I’m going
to get some breakfast before I leave. I’ll see you in a few weeks, sheriff.”
“Goodbye, Judge,” Donkel
replied and sat down at his desk. It seemed to him that paperwork multiplied
vastly whenever he was busy. Before long, he was hard at work and thought no
more about either Judge Wheeler or the Cartwrights.
******************************
“Sheriff! Sheriff!”
Frowning, Donkel looked up
from his paperwork, surprised to discover that it was late afternoon. His
stomach growled, as it had done a few times throughout the day and now he
realised why. Breakfast was but a distant memory and he’d missed lunch
completely. “What is it, Jenson?” he asked.
“This wire jist came in,”
Jenson panted. He looked shaken and Donkel gave him a sharp look before reading
the wire he was handed. He looked up, knowing his expression mirrored Jenson’s.
“Oh lord!” he whispered.
In his hand, the wire read;
STAGE LATE STOP
RIDERS SENT OUT STOP
ALL DEAD INCLUDING JUDGE
WHEELER STOP
PRISON WAGON OVERTURNED
STOP
SLADER GANG FREE
ALL STOP
“The Cartwrights,” Donkel
murmured, when his tongue began to work again. “We have to warn the
Cartwrights.”
“How?” Jenson demanded.
“They weren’t plannin’ on stoppin’ in any towns.”
“Then we’ll just have to
track them!” Donkel snapped. “Go and get the other men. You’ll come with me and
we’ll leave the others here.” As Jenson hurried from the office, Donkel ran a
hand through his thinning hair.
The Slader gang – or what
was left of them – were free and Donkel knew only too well that Joe Cartwright
was going to pay for what happened to Billy and Doug Slader. Judge Horace
Wheeler had already paid the ultimate price for sending them to prison. Donkel
meant to see to it that they didn’t get the chance to kill Joe Cartwright, if
it was the last thing he did. He picked up his gun and began to load it.
******************************
“Tired?” Hoss asked Joe as
he helped his brother down from the buckboard. Joe winced as his sore leg
touched the ground harder than he had intended. “Easy now, I gotcha.”
“Yeah, I’m tired,” Joe
acknowledged as he was eased to the ground by the fire. Hoss tucked a saddle
behind his brother’s back for Joe to lean against and fetched a blanket, for
the wind was chilly and the fire hadn’t quite taken hold. Joe sighed and smiled
at Hoss. “Thanks.”
“Ain’t no need ta thank
me,” Hoss replied.
“Yeah yeah,” Joe laughed.
“I know; you ain’t got anything better to do!”
“Well, I ain’t,” Hoss
replied in a reasonable tone. “Candy’s takin’ care o’ the horses, an’ the fire
ain’t big enough fer me ta cook over yet.” He sighed. “Wish Hop Sing had
stayed.”
“Yeah,” Joe sighed. “But we
couldn’t deprive Pa any longer, could we? But your food will do for the few
days it’ll take to get home.” Joe looked wistful. “How long do you think it’ll
take?”
“Two-three days,” Hoss
replied. “Depends on how ya hold out, Joe. We ain’t gonna push that leg. If’n
ya need ta rest, that’s what we’re gonna do.” He wagged a massive finger at the
younger man.
“Yes, mother,” Joe jibed.
“But I’m all right, Hoss, honest.”
“I know ya want ta git
home, Joe,” Hoss replied, seriously. “But I want ya to git there in no worse
shape than ya are now. Pa’s gonna have a fit as it is when he sees that leg!”
Although not usually squeamish, Hoss found looking at Joe’s leg quite
difficult. The injury itself was not as bad as some Hoss had seen, but he
wondered if the circumstances surrounding how Joe got it were affecting his
thinking.
“I just want to get home,”
Joe commented plaintively and Hoss knew that his little brother was more tired
than he was letting on, for usually, he wouldn’t admit to anything that might
be interpreted as weakness.
“Me, too Shortshanks,” Hoss
murmured. “Me, too.”
“Where’s supper?” Candy
demanded, coming over from the horse line. “Don’t tell me you two have been
jawing and my supper ain’t made? I’ve been the only one working!”
“It’s comin’,” Hoss
grumbled, rising. “Dadburnit, some folks ain’t got no patience!”
From the corner of his eye,
he saw Joe and Candy exchanging a grin and hid a smile.
**************************
Morning saw a late start
for the men from the Ponderosa. Joe had slept through the mild bustle of Hoss
preparing breakfast and Candy hitching the team. By unspoken consent, the other
two had let Joe sleep until the last possible minute, then Hoss gently roused
him.
“Go ‘way!” Joe muttered.
“Come on, Joe, breakfast’s
up,” Hoss coaxed. “Coffee’s ready.” He waved a cup close to Joe’s nose, which
finally got his brother’s head out from under the blankets.
“It can’t be morning
already,” Joe muttered, running a hand through his wildly tousled curls. He
pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing as he did so and accepted the
cup of coffee from Hoss. “Morning,” he grunted, glancing over at Candy.
“Mornin’,” Candy replied.
He was nursing a cup of coffee, too. “Decided to wake up and join us after the
work is done, huh?”
Grunting, Joe took a
cautious sip and discovered that the coffee was very hot. “I wasn’t going to do
any of it anyway,” he retorted and closed his eyes again for a minute. He
opened them to find both Hoss and Candy looking at him with concern. “What?” he
asked.
“Ya feelin’ all right,
Joe?” Hoss asked, keeping his tone as bland as he could.
A smile crossed Joe’s face.
“I’m fine, big brother,” he replied. “I’m just not quite awake, that’s all. I
was letting the coffee work.” He reached out and squeezed the big man’s arm.
“I’m fine, honest.”
“Good,” Hoss responded,
emphatically and handed Joe a plate with some bacon and grits on it. He watched
in satisfaction as Joe ate with relish and by the time the campsite was cleared
up, Joe was feeling more human and was raring to go.
**************************
“I thought we might have
caught up with them by now,” Jenson commented, as he and Donkel made camp on
the first night.
“I hoped we would,” Donkel
replied. “But knowing Joe Cartwright, I’m not surprised that we didn’t. If ever
there was a man determined to get home, it was Joe.”
Jenson looked uneasily over
his shoulder and moved closer to the fire. “You reckon they’re out there?” he
asked and it was clear he didn’t mean the Cartwrights.
“Yes, somewhere,” Donkel
sighed. “I wish I knew more about when the prison wagon crashed and where. That
would give us a better idea of how far they might have got by now, but the details
were sketchy. Of course, they might not go anywhere near the Cartwrights, but
we’ve got to warn them.” He sighed again. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ve got an
early start in the morning.”
****************************
“Ya all right, Joe?” Hoss
asked, as another sigh escaped his brother’s lips.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Joe
grumbled. “I’m just tired, I guess.”
Glancing sideways, Hoss
took in Joe’s too pale face and the way he tried not to wince as he moved his
injured leg against the front of the buckboard. The speed they were travelling
at was boring for them all, but it was as fast as Hoss thought Joe ought to
travel. Although Joe hadn’t complained at all, Hoss knew that his leg must
still be very sore.
“Let’s stop an’ have
lunch,” he proposed, although it was still a bit early for lunch. “Ya c’n rest
fer a bit.”
“I’m all right,” Joe
protested, as Hoss had known he would.
“Sure,” Hoss nodded. “But
I’m hungry.”
“So what’s new?” Joe teased
and ducked as Hoss made a lunge for him. “Ouch!” Joe winced, as his leg slipped
off the front of the buckboard.
“Serves ya right,” Hoss
sniffed. “Ya all right?” He felt a bit guilty that he had caused Joe to move so
much.
“I’m fine,” Joe assured his
brother. However, Joe was relieved when they stopped a few minutes later and
Hoss helped him out of the buckboard. He leant back against the tree behind his
back and fought down yet another sigh – this one of relief.
“Hey,” Candy said, quietly,
a few minutes later, nudging Hoss. “Look at sleeping beauty over there.”
Turning his head, Hoss saw
that Joe had fallen asleep. “I thought he was needin’ ta rest,” Hoss chuckled.
“But ya know Joe – he won’t never admit ta feelin’ less than fine. We’ll let
him sleep fer a bit.”
**************************
“There!” Donkel cried and
pointed to the slow-moving buckboard they could see about a mile away across
the grassland. “Come on!” he urged and they both put their heels to their
horses and began to gallop.
It was Joe who spotted them.
He heard the hooves and twisted carefully in his seat. “Hoss, wait! That looks
like Sheriff Donkel!” Joe was quite embarrassed that he had been allowed to
sleep for over an hour at their lunch stop and was keeping an eagle eye on
everything around him to keep himself awake.
“What?” Hoss pulled the
team to a stop and turned to look. “Sure does. I wonder what he’s doin’ out
here?”
“Glad we found you
fellows,” Donkel panted, as he pulled up his lathered horse.
“What’s happened?” Joe
asked. Donkel’s tension communicated itself to Joe at once.
Quickly, Donkel apprised
them of the situation. Joe shot a look at Hoss, only to find his brother
looking back at him grimly. “Ya reckon they’s gonna come after us?” Hoss asked.
“I don’t know, but it’s
entirely possible,” Donkel admitted. “Judge Wheeler is dead.”
“It could have been an
accident,” Candy suggested.
“That’s true,” Donkel
replied, patiently. “But it might not have been.” He glanced round the three
faces and saw acceptance on them all. They, too, were convinced that the
remains of the Slader gang were going to come after them. “I’d like you to come
back to Sand Dust with me.”
“No!” Joe’s reaction was
instinctive. He looked rather startled by his own vehemence, but he didn’t want
to go back. Travelling was hard enough without having to retrace their steps
and face it all again. “No,” he repeated, more quietly. “I want to keep going.”
“Joe,” Donkel began, but it
was Candy who interrupted him.
“Joe’s right,” Candy
stated. “Those fellas aren’t likely to catch up with us yet. And in another day
or so, if we push a bit harder, we’ll be safe on the Ponderosa.”
“We don’t know when the
prison wagon crashed,” Donkel pointed out. “They could be watching us right
now.” He was mildly amused when Jenson looked nervously over his shoulder. “And
we can’t come with you all the way to the Ponderosa.”
“We didn’t expect you to,”
Joe told him. “We can take pretty good care of ourselves.”
That was true, as Donkel
knew from experience. He made a frustrated gesture. “So you’re going to go on,
then?”
“I reckon that’s best,”
Hoss agreed. “Sides, it’s a long way back fer Joe, and a shorter way ta go on.”
“All right, I guess I can’t
force you to come back with us” Donkel capitulated. “Good luck. I think you’ll
need it.”
“Don’t go rushing off,”
Hoss replied. “Stay an’ have something’ ta eat. We were jist gonna make camp
anyways.” He glanced at the sky. “Ya ain’t gonna git far afore it’s dark.”
“All right,” Donkel smiled.
He hoped that he would be able to persuade them to change their minds if he
stayed with them. He led his horse over to the sheltered spot that Candy had
found and began to take care of it automatically, watching Hoss helping Joe and
Candy seeing to the horses. He didn’t want anything happening to these people.
******************************
“There they are!” The man,
grimy from his days on the run, crouched in the bushes and peered out at the
camp.
His companion crept forward
and squinted through the foliage. He was as filthy as his friend and smelt just
as bad. “Good,” he grunted. “I’ve got a score to settle with Cartwright.”
“With both Cartwrights,”
corrected the other man.
“Yeah, but it’s personal
with the younger one,” retorted the other. He felt his jaw tenderly, although
the ache in it was long gone. This was the man Joe had fought with, and knocked
unconscious in the street.
“All right, you get him,
an’ I’ll hold off the others.” He made to rise, but the other man put out his
hand. “Wait,” he counselled. “The sheriff’s leaving!” They settled back to
watch developments.
*******************************
“I wish I could persuade
you to come back with me,” Donkel tried once more, as he mounted his horse.
“Thanks, but no thanks,”
Joe replied. He was still seated by the embers of the fire, waiting obediently
for Hoss to help him.
“Good luck,” Donkel offered
and nodded to Jenson. They wheeled their horses and rode off. Jenson looked
back once and waved.
As soon as they were out of
sight, Donkel reined in his horse. “We’re going to follow them for a spell,” he
told his confused deputy. “Just until I’m sure they’ll be all right.”
“Yes, sir,” Jenson replied,
grinning. They moved so that they could see the camp without being seen.
*************************
“Come on, Candy, what’s taking
so long?” Joe complained, glancing over to where Candy was looking at his
horse’s hoof.
“I’m not sure,” Candy
responded. “Dusk seems to be lame, but I can’t see anything in his hoof. Hoss,
take a look, will you?”
“Sure,” Hoss replied, and
walked over. He bent over the hoof in question, too and Joe had to just sit
there and wait for the verdict. He hoped it wouldn’t take long to fix, whatever
it was, because he was already feeling a familiar soreness creep over his
muscles. Riding the buckboard wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. “Look!” Hoss
exclaimed and Joe twisted around as though he would be able to see from where
he was. “It’s a little stone, caught just inside his shoe.”
The mystery solved, Joe
turned round and started to settle himself again. A movement, seen only in his
peripheral vision, caused Joe to glance up and he saw, to his astonishment, one
of the Slader gang running towards him.
“Hoss!” Joe cried,
scrabbling frantically for his gun. He wasn’t in a good position to draw, since
he had been balanced on one hand while he used the other to settle his bad leg.
And then his time ran out and the other man had Joe’s gun in his hand, and was
holding it against Joe’s head.
******************************
“We meet again,
Cartwright,” the man sneered. Joe didn’t try to say anything. The large hand
around his throat tended to deter him from making smart repartee. He swallowed
gingerly, feeling the hand scraping over his Adam’s apple. His eyes didn’t
leave the other man’s. The last time they had met, Joe had knocked him
unconscious. He knew he was about to pay for that.
Over by the horses, Hoss
and Candy saw the man holding the gun to Joe’s head and stood absolutely still
as their guns were lifted from their holsters. “Now what?” Hoss growled.
It seemed that that was a
good question, and one which the men didn’t have an immediate answer to. Hoss
shot a quick glance at Candy and saw that the other man was tensed and ready
for action when the chance presented itself.
After a noticeable pause, the
man with Joe, who was called
Slowly, Joe did as he was
told, feeling sweat popping into being on his forehead as the cruel iron cuff
closed around his wrist. He resisted looking round at Hoss, not wanting to see
his brother’s reaction to this. The second cuff closed firmly round his other
wrist and Joe looked at the shackles expressionlessly. He was helpless now.
“Come on, Bob,”
“What do I do about them?” Bob
whined. He turned his head to look at Tyler and Hoss and Candy both reacted
instantly.
With a single blow of his
arm, Hoss knocked Bob and his gun to the ground. Candy jumped on him, and
punched him twice as Hoss began to run towards the buggy. He was terrified that
Skidding to a halt, Hoss
turned back to get his horse, and vaguely noticed two riders appearing from the
trees. It was only as Jenson pulled up by Candy that Hoss realised who they
were. He left Jenson with Candy, mounted Candy’s horse, which was the only one
saddled, and set off after the buggy.
******************************
“Are you ready to die,
Cartwright?”
“I’ll take you with me, if
I go,” Joe shouted back. He was struggling to keep his balance, and pain was
shooting through his bad leg at every bounce. He leaned over and grabbed at the
reins, but
A shot whined overhead,
making both occupants of the buckboard duck, although the bullet was long past
and came nowhere near them.
With renewed hope, Joe
again made a dive for the reins. The heavy shackles got in his way, but he
persevered with the stubborn doggedness that his family frequently cursed. A
blow from his clenched fists caused
Neither man noticed
particularly. Joe was muscular, but hampered by injury and the shackles.
As
With a cry, Joe and Tyler
crashed to the ground as the buckboard overturned.
*****************************
“Joe!” Hoss drove Candy’s
horse even faster as he raced to reach his brother’s side. Joe had been flung
clear of the buckboard and lay ominously still on the ground.
Reaching his goal, Hoss
leapt down from the horse and dropped to his knees by his unconscious brother.
“Joe? Can ya hear me, Joe?” He ran his hand through Joe’s hair and found, as he
expected, a bump on Joe’s head. “Joe?” There was no response. Hoss gently ran
his hands over Joe’s limbs, but none of them seemed to be broken.
“How is he?”
Flinching, for he hadn’t
heard Donkel approach, Hoss glanced briefly over his shoulder. “He’s out cold, but
I don’t reckon he were hurt much. Jist bruises an’ the like, I think. What
about the other one?”
“He’s dead, Mr Cartwright,”
Donkel replied, soberly. “The buckboard fell on top of him. He might have lived
for a few seconds, but that would have been about it.” Donkel didn’t sound in
the least regretful, Hoss thought. He didn’t blame the other man; he felt the
same way.
At that moment, Joe moaned
and began to stir. Donkel disappeared again for a moment or two and came back
with the key for the shackles. He swiftly removed them and Hoss set about
gently chafing Joe’s wrists. “Joe?” he coaxed. “Ya gonna wake up fer me, Joe?”
A groan was his only reply
for a moment, then Joe’s green eyes cracked open and he regarded Hoss with
disfavour. “Lemme sleep,” he begged.
“Cain’t do that, Joe,” Hoss
replied. “Ya jist were knocked cold agin, an’ ya cain’t go back ta sleep yet.”
At that, Joe’s eyes opened
wide and he turned his head to look around without trying to sit up. “That
man…” he began.
“Dead,” Donkel reported,
briefly.
“What are you doing here?”
Joe asked, frowning in puzzlement. That was a question that it hadn’t occurred
to Hoss to ask, but now that Joe had, he was curious, too.
“Yeah, what are ya doin’
here?” he echoed.
“Keeping an eye on you,”
Donkel replied, with the hint of a smile. “Good thing, too, by the looks of
it.”
*****************************
Candy’s arrival, along with
Jenson, a few minutes later made the party complete. Joe was still flat on his
back, but making movements towards sitting up. “You all right, Joe?” Candy
asked, leaning over him.
“I’m fine,” Joe replied,
although he had a headache.
“Stay here with him,” Hoss
suggested to Candy. “An’ we’ll move that buckboard.” Candy glanced over, saw
the grisly remains and nodded. He was in no hurry to volunteer his services for
that chore! “Don’ let Joe go back ta sleep,” he told Candy, as he got to his
feet.
“Yes, sir, boss,” Candy
replied, jokingly. Joe rolled his eyes expressively. Candy stepped between Joe and
the buckboard and sat down so that he screened the other man from the sight. A
certain set to Joe’s mouth told Candy that Joe knew what he was doing and why
and wasn’t too happy about being babied. It didn’t persuade Candy to move.
By the time the buckboard
was righted, the horses checked over and the remains quickly buried, Joe was
sitting up and feeling a bit better. His body ached all over from the hard
landing he had had, but given the alternative, he wasn’t complaining. He
allowed Hoss and Candy to help him to his feet, wincing as he put some weight
on his bad leg. “An’ I’m checkin’ that afore we go any further,” Hoss warned
him.
“Fuss, fuss,” Joe
complained, but he didn’t really mind.
“Jist wait till Pa gits
hold o’ ya,” Hoss replied, complacently. “Then ya’ll know what fussin’ is!”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Joe
laughed. He caught his breath again as he was settled into the buckboard and
Hoss decided that they were going no further that day.
***********************************
Later that morning, Donkel
and Jenson set off back to Sand Dust with their prisoner. Hoss had tried to
persuade them to stay until after they’d eaten, but Donkel wanted to push on.
Joe had wanted to push on, too, but Hoss had vetoed the idea and Candy had
backed him up. Knowing that he was in no fit state to saddle his horse, never
mind ride it, Joe had to content himself. And as Candy said, the buckboard
horses had had a hard morning, and could use the rest. By the time Hoss had
checked Joe’s leg and re-bandaged it, Joe’s desire to move on was subsumed by
his desire to sleep. So they had a lazy day, lounging around the camp, which
was very boring for Hoss and Candy, who ended up playing yet another game of
cards.
Next morning, they packed
up their gear and got ready to go. Joe looked better for the day of rest and
Hoss vowed to force another rest day on Joe if need be before they got home.
But they made good time that day and were much closer to home than Hoss had
anticipated they would be and he guessed that they would reach the ranch by
dark the next day.
“Yer tired,” he told Joe
bluntly, as they settled around the fire. “I reckon we should rest agin
tomorra.”
“Oh no!” Joe protested.
“I’m no more tired than you are! Admit it, big brother, we’re all tired. We’re
tired of being away from home and we’re tired of sleeping on the ground and
eating your cooking.”
“Not that there’s anything
wrong with your cooking,” Candy hastened to assure Hoss. “It’s just not up to
Hop Sing’s standards.”
“I reckon you’re right,”
Hoss grumbled. “I sure have a hankerin’ ta sleep in ma own bed.”
“Of course,” Joe commented
to Candy, “he’s not in the least interested in Hop Sing’s cooking. That’s just
gluttons like you and me.”
“I knew that,” Candy
teased. “Bet Hoss wishes he ain’t cuttin’ down, or he could enjoy Hop Sing’s
cookin’.”
“Dadburnit, I ain’t cuttin’
down no more!” Hoss exclaimed. “It were jist them portions they gave us back in
Sand Dust weren’t big enough ta fill a flea.” He glanced down at himself. “With
all this liftin’ Joe, I’m gittin’ plumb puny,” he complained.
“We can sure see that!” Joe
agreed and they all laughed, buoyed up by the thought that home was just around
the corner.
**********************************
Hearing wheels coming into the
yard next evening just before supper, Ben Cartwright rose from his chair in
front of the fire and went across to open the door. The buckboard and the team
pulling it were unfamiliar, but he immediately recognised the passengers and
the horses tethered to the back. He hurried out. “Hoss! Joe! Candy! Welcome
home!”
“Hi, Pa,” Joe replied,
trying valiantly to sound like his usual self, but he was desperately tired.
Diagnosing this at once,
Ben shot a glance at Hoss, who shrugged. “I think he’s all right, Pa,” he
assured Ben. “Jist plumb tuckered out.”
“Let’s get you to bed,
then,” Ben proposed.
“What about supper?” Joe
protested. “Pa, I’m starving! I’ve had to eat Hoss’ cooking…” He ducked as Hoss
pretended to swing for him.
“All right, after supper,”
Ben agreed, and helped Joe down from the buckboard. He looped an arm around his
son’s slender waist and Joe put his arm around Ben’s shoulders and slowly
limped across the yard. Joe was quickly settled on the sofa and Hop Sing came
out to welcome them home, chattering disapprovingly when he saw how pale and
tired Joe looked.
Over supper, they told Ben
their story, taking it in turns. They all had seconds, for the simple,
home-cooked meal seemed to them to be the most delicious thing they’d ever had.
Ben listened, sometimes asking questions to clarify events, but the account was
clear enough to let him understand the danger his sons had been in.
It was not a night when any
of them wanted to sit by the fire. By the time the last pieces of peach pie
were gone, Hoss, Joe and Candy were yawning. Joe looked over at the stairs with
resignation, knowing how difficult it would be for him to get up them.
“C’mon, Shortshanks,” Hoss
offered. “Let me help ya.”
Quietly, Ben put a hand on
Hoss’ arm. “You’ve helped him up until now,” Ben said, gently. “And I thank you
for that. But now you’re home, it’s my turn, and my privilege, to look after my
own son. You go and get some much needed and well deserved rest.”
“Thanks for everything,
Hoss,” Joe called, as Hoss smiled and mounted the stairs. “You, too, Candy.”
“Just don’t expect that
kind of treatment every day,” Candy joked, for he had been unexpectedly touched
by Ben’s statement.
Turning to Joe, Ben reached
down and took his arm. “Ready?” he asked.
“Ready, Pa,” Joe replied
and leant on his father’s strong arm to get to his feet.
The stairs were every bit
as difficult as Joe had anticipated, but Ben was the soul of patience, taking
more and more of Joe’s weight as his youngest son’s strength waned. He
half-carried Joe into his bedroom and helped him carefully balance while Ben
assisted him to remove his pants.
“I’ll put a fresh bandage
on your leg for tonight, and I’ll ask Paul Martin to look out in the morning,”
Ben told him. “Hoss said the doctor in Sand Dust gave you painkillers. Do you
want one?”
“No, it’s all right, Pa,”
Joe replied. In truth, his leg hurt quite a bit, but Joe had everything he
needed at that moment. He was home and his pa was with him. He watched with
interest as Ben took off the bandage and gasped, just as Joe had known he
would.
“I can’t believe that
doesn’t hurt,” Ben stated flatly, looking up at Joe.
“It does,” Joe replied,
honestly, “but the painkillers make me sleep and I’m not ready to sleep yet.”
“Why not?” Ben asked,
curiously, for Joe looked tired.
“Oh,” Joe replied and
looked around his room. “I just want to savour being home and being with you.”
Tears sprang into Ben’s
eyes unbidden at this declaration of love. He blinked them away and drank in
the sight of his son. “I was worried about you,” he told Joe. “I was worried
when Hop Sing came back and told me what had happened and I was even more
worried about you when I got word that you’d been injured.”
“I’ll be all right
eventually,” Joe assured him. “But the injury wasn’t the hardest part, Pa,” he
confided. “I think it hurt more to learn that Val had been helping the Sladers
out. That she had been part of the cause of Mr Haskell’s death, and yet she
pretended to be distraught.” Joe shook his head. “And then there she was,
fawning all over Billy Slader!” He sighed heavily. “I should have known there
was something up when she told the prosecutor that she couldn’t remember what
had happened, yet seemed to have perfect recall when we spoke that night.”
“Nobody can really see into
another’s heart,” Ben reminded Joe gently.
“She reminded me of someone
I once knew,” Joe confided in a low voice. “She reminded me slightly of
Louise.” He glanced at Ben and then away and Ben didn’t say anything. He knew
that Joe didn’t tell lies, yet the town of
“What about Sheriff
Donkel?” Ben asked after a time.
“He was great,” Joe
enthused. “The best sheriff I think I’ve ever met. You knew exactly where you
stood with him. And it was nice of him to come after us and even nicer that he
didn’t go away, even though we told him we’d be fine.” Joe sighed ruefully.
“Good thing he didn’t, as it turned out.”
“That was a true testament
of friendship,” Ben agreed. “I’m more than grateful to him.” He patted Joe’s
arm, for his son’s eyelids were becoming heavier and heavier. “Joe, I think you
should take a painkiller and I’ll sit with you until you’re asleep, how about
that?”
“All right,” Joe agreed.
“And you could read me a bedtime story, too, if you’d like,” he added,
cheekily.
Grinning broadly at the
sheer effrontery of the young man, Ben swatted his arm gently. “Bedtime story
indeed!” he sniffed, but he couldn’t pull off his pretend disapproval.
*************************
Later that night, Ben knelt
by his bed to pray. He gave thanks, first and foremost, that his sons had been
returned to him safely, even if Joe was the almost-walking wounded. And then he
gave thanks for the friendship of a sheriff he had never met, but for whom Ben
prayed for the rest of his life.
The End