The Hotel

By:  Rona Y.

 

“The new hotel’s real fancy, ain’t it, Pa?” Hoss Cartwright commented as he and his father paused across the street from the new structure.

 

“Sure looks like it, son,” Ben agreed, as they watched the men continue to unload expensive mahogany furniture from the back of a huge covered wagon.

 

“I heard tell that they’re gittin’ a fancy French chef,” Hoss went on. Ben smothered a smile.

 

“Really?” he commented in as neutral a tone as he could manage.

 

“Yeah,” Hoss nodded. “I reckon we ought ta come try it out when it opens. What d’ya say, Pa?”

 

“I suppose we could,” Ben agreed. He clapped Hoss on the back. “Let’s go, son. We’ve got to meet your brother.”

 

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

 

“Yeah, I’ve seen the work going on,” Joe replied, disinterestedly when Hoss mentioned the new hotel to his younger brother.

 

“Something the matter, son?” Ben asked. It wasn’t like Joe to be standoffish when Hoss was enthusing about something.

 

“No, sir,” Joe responded, clearly startled by the question. He blinked and looked at Ben, trying to gauge if his father was annoyed. He hadn’t sounded it, but perhaps the comment was just a warning. But Ben’s face showed only concern and Joe relaxed again. “I guess I’m just tired, that’s all.”

 

“You have every right to be tired,” Ben smiled. “After all, you’ve just returned from Sacramento and travelling by stage isn’t the most restful of journeys.”

 

“You can say that again!” Joe complained and stretched his aching back. Somehow, he always seemed to end up squashed in a corner, or sitting on the floor when he travelled by stage. This time, he had been sitting next to a hugely overweight woman who seemed to be determined to make him relinquish his tiny portion of the seat to her. Joe had obstinately stuck it out. His back was killing him. He made an effort to smile at Hoss. “Tell me about the hotel, big brother.”

 

All the way home, Joe was content to let Hoss ramble on, just throwing in the odd word here and there. After supper, he went straight to bed and when Ben stuck his head around Joe’s door a little later, his youngest son was sound asleep. It appeared that Joe had been tired.

 

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

 

“Hey look!” Hoss exclaimed excitedly, waving a piece of paper at Joe, as he rode into the yard. “Look what we got!”

 

“What?” Joe asked, pulling Cochise to a standstill and dismounting wearily. He was filthy, caked in mud after hauling a calf out of a mud hole, and wanted nothing more than a hot bath, hot meal and his bed, in that order.

 

“We got an invite ta the openin’ o’ that new hotel in town,” Hoss replied, oblivious to the condition Joe was in. “Look!” He thrust the fancy card into Joe’s hand.

 

Focusing on the ornate invitation with a small effort, Joe read that he, Ben and Hoss had all been invited to the grand opening of The Hotel. For a moment, Joe thought that the hotel’s name had been missed out, but then he realised that that was its name. He nodded thoughtfully. The card was engraved in gold and had an elegant line drawing of the new building at the bottom. The invitation was dated for the following week.

 

“That’s nice,” he commented, handing the card back before he left permanent muddy marks on it.

 

“Nice?” Hoss echoed. “That all ya can say?”

 

“What do you want me to say?” Joe replied. He made an effort, since Hoss looked so wounded. Joe didn’t know why his brother was so excited about the hotel opening. “Why are you so interested?”

 

“I dunno,” Hoss admitted after a moment. “I jist am.” He shrugged. “Its jist been real interestin’ watchin’ it growin’ from the ground up, I guess.”

 

Smiling, Joe clapped his big brother on the shoulder. “You don’t need no other reason than that, I guess,” he agreed.

 

Nodding, Hoss looked at Joe again and this time noticed that his brother was filthy. “Joe, what cha bin doin’?” he chided. “Yer covered in mud.”

 

Laughing, Joe shook his head. “Gee, I didn’t notice,” he retorted. “Nice of ya to tell me, Hoss.”

 

Still bickering playfully, the brothers went into the house.

 

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

 

The very next day, Joe was sent into town to pick up some supplies that had been delayed arriving. When he reached the store, the wagon was just being unloaded and so he had to cool his heels for a while waiting. He didn’t fancy going into the saloon – it was too early for a beer – so he stood aimlessly on the boardwalk, glancing up and down the street. He didn’t spot any particular friends and he was in no mood to window shop.

 

Slightly further up the boardwalk, but still outside the store, Joe saw another young man loitering. They exchanged smiles and after a few minutes, the young man drifted down to stand closer to Joe. “You waiting for supplies, too?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Joe acknowledged. “We’re nearly out of coffee, which is a tragedy in our house.” He smiled. “I’m Joe Cartwright, by the way.” He thrust out his hand.

 

Grasping it, the other man shook firmly. “Michael Peterson. How d’you do?” He frowned slightly. “Cartwright. Why do I know that name?”

 

“I don’t know,” Joe replied. “Have you been in town long?”

 

“Well, a few months, I suppose,” Michael answered. “I’ve been pretty busy with the building of the hotel.”

 

“Hotel?” Joe perked up. “The new hotel? My family has been invited to the opening.” He studied the young man in front of him with new interest.

 

“Ah!” The young man snapped his fingers. “Cartwright! I knew I knew the name. But I didn’t think it was Joe I associated with it.”

 

“You’re probably thinking of Ben, my father,” Joe responded. He was beginning to like Michael.

 

“That’s it!” Michael grinned. He glanced over his shoulder. “Looks like the supplies will be a few minutes yet. Would you like a look around the hotel?”

 

“Thanks, I’d love it,” Joe replied. “My brother Hoss is going to be sorry he didn’t come into town now.”

 

“Hoss?” Michael asked, sounding confused, so as the two young men walked down the street to the hotel, Joe began to fill Michael in on his family.

 

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

 

The Hotel was magnificent, Joe realised as he was shown around. The floors were thickly carpeted, the drapes were velvet, the chairs upholstered in many rich colours. There were a few single rooms, but the majority of the hotel was made up of suites, one or two bedrooms and a living room. Each room had an ornate fireplace in it.

 

“This is something special,” Joe commented, after he had been shown all over it.

 

“Thanks,” Michael replied, looking pleased. He gestured to Joe. “Come and meet my wife, Lindsay. Our home is on the first floor.” He led the way through the lobby to the stairs and through a door marked ‘private’.

 

Although resembling the hotel suites, this set of rooms had a more homely appearance. They were less fancy and much cosier. Joe instantly felt at home. He glanced around appreciatively as a door opened and a lovely young woman came out. Her hair was lying loose on her shoulders and her hand went to it instinctively as she saw the stranger.

 

“Lindsay, this is Joe Cartwright,” Michael said, stepping forward to grasp his wife’s hand. “He and his family have the big ranch outside out town, the Ponderosa.”

 

“How do you do?” Lindsay put her hand out to shake Joe’s obviously deciding that it was too late to be embarrassed at being caught with her hair down like a hoyden.

 

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Joe responded, smiling. Lindsay was a very pretty young woman and he appreciated seeing her rich dark brown hair shining on her shoulders.

 

“Oh, don’t call me ma’am!” she objected. “That makes me sound ancient. Call me Lindsay.”

 

“Lindsay,” Joe agreed. He smiled conspiratorially. “When someone calls me ‘Mr Cartwright’, I always look round for my Pa.

 

Lindsay laughed. She glanced at her husband. “Michael, did you bring that flour?”

 

“Oh heavens, I’d forgotten all about it again,” he replied. “The wagon was just being unloaded when I arrived and since Joe was waiting, too, I asked if he would like to see the hotel.”

 

“It’s lovely,” Joe responded. “I’m looking forward to the opening party.”

 

“So are we – kind of!” Michael agreed. “Well, I’d better go and get that flour.”

 

“If you want pie, then you’d better,” Lindsay smiled.

 

“And I’d better go, too,” Joe interjected. “Pa told me not to be long – he’s got a list of chores for me as long as my arm!” He tipped his hat. “Pleased to meet you, Lindsay.”

 

“And you, Joe.” Lindsay watched the two men leave before she went back into the kitchen. She was pleased that Michael had at last met someone of their own age who he could be friends with.

 

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

 

Over lunch, Joe told Hoss and Ben about his visit to The Hotel. Hoss, as he had guessed, was jealous.

 

“Dadburnit, Joe, I wish I’d a bin the one ta go inta town this mornin’,” he grumbled.

 

“Well, the grand opening is next week. You’ll get the chance to look around then,” Joe mumbled, his mouth full.

 

“It ain’t the same though,” Hoss groused. “Pa, how come Joe gits all the luck like that?” he appealed to his father. “It ain’t like he were all that interested in it.”

 

“I don’t know,” Ben replied. He glanced at Joe, who was cheerfully shovelling food into his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten for weeks. “So you and Mr Peterson hit it off, then, Joe?”

 

“Sure did, Pa,” Joe replied. Ben frowned at him for talking with his mouth full once more. Joe hastily swallowed. “His wife, Lindsay, is a real nice lady, too. Very pretty.”

 

“Where do they live?” Hoss asked.

 

“They got a set of rooms on the first floor,” Joe replied. “Same sort of lay out as the suites, but not as fancy. More homey.”

 

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing the inside,” Ben commented, as he applied himself to the last of the food on his plate.

 

“Still don’ seem fair that ya got ta see the inside afore me,” Hoss grumped, but the twinkle in his eye told Joe that his brother wasn’t really upset.

 

“Some people are just born lucky,” Joe replied modestly. He ignored Hoss’ contemptuous snort.

 

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

 

Whenever Joe was in town over the next week, he made a point of stopping in to see Michael and Lindsay. A solid friendship had been born out of their chance meeting. Joe soon felt like a part of their family, as he was introduced to all the workers at the hotel. Some of them, Joe knew already, for many of the maids and porters had lived in town for a while. The French chef had worked in many of the big hotels back east and had a very good reputation. He was also incredibly temperamental, Joe learned, but would usually end up laughing at his own tantrums. Being of a fiery nature himself, Joe could understand the man.

 

Sometimes, but only sometimes, Joe felt envious of the closeness of Michael and Lindsay. Joe had had several romantic entanglements, but fate had always conspired against him actually marrying. Currently, Joe was doing as he often did and playing the field. Michael had asked Joe if there was anyone special that he wanted to bring to the opening of the hotel, but Joe had declined.

 

He knew all about the party that there was going to be. He had seen the menu, tasted the chef’s special canapés and admired the decorations for the dining and ball rooms. Joe was really looking forward to the night.

 

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

 

The day of the opening party dawned hot and sunny. They were going through a spell of hot dry weather and Ben was planning on starting cutting the hay the next morning. He had to make the most of the weather, even though starting something as strenuous as haying the night after a late party wasn’t ideal. But they had a crew ready to start and the weather was perfect. Ben couldn’t afford to delay. A hay crop ruined by rain would be a disaster.

 

No problems cropped up that day to delay the Cartwrights and they were all dressed and ready to go by 5pm. Ben had the buggy out, so that their clothes wouldn’t get too dusty going into town. Joe was in high spirits, looking forward to introducing his family to Michael and Lindsay.

 

As they arrived, Joe was gratified to see that the town had turned out in force for the opening. He had been slightly worried that there might not be a good response to the invitations, but he was glad to be proved wrong. Entering the hotel, they found everyone milling about, exclaiming over the fancy decoration and beauty of the interior.

 

With superior knowledge of the layout, Joe was able to guide Ben and Hoss around the hotel, finally bringing them to the dining room. So far, he hadn’t spotted Michael or Lindsay, but there were a lot of people there and they were bound to be busy.

 

“This the menu?” Hoss asked, having duly admired everything. He picked up the printed list and scrutinised it, frowning as his eyes travelled down the list. Finally, he held it out to Joe, scowling. “I cain’t read a dad-blamed word!” he complained.

 

Taking it from Hoss, Joe quickly scanned it. “Its written in French,” he explained.

 

“French!” Hoss’ scowl deepened. “I cain’t read French! How’m I meant ta know what’s what?”

 

Shaking his head, Joe put the menu down. “Its food, Hoss,” he chided. “What more do you need to know?”

 

“Joe!” Ben reproved, as Hoss made a mock swing for his brother.

 

Joe was saved from further recriminations by the arrival of Michael and Lindsay. Lindsay had on a rich purple dress, with her hair piled high. Michael had on a pale grey suit, very fashionably cut. He grinned broadly when he saw Joe. “At last!” he cried. “So this is where you’re hiding. You missed the tour, you know!” He laughed.

 

“I’ve already had it!” Joe retorted, grinning broadly. “Michael, Lindsay, I’d like you to meet my family. This is my father Ben Cartwright and my brother Hoss.”

 

“Pleased to meet you.” Michael shook hands with them both. “I’ve heard a lot about you both.”

 

“Likewise,” Ben replied. “I must say, Mr Peterson, your hotel is magnificent.”

 

“Thank you,” Michael beamed. “Look, I’ll meet with you all for a brandy at the end of the night, if that’s all right? I’ve got to get everyone seated now.”

 

“Good enough,” Joe agreed. “Need a hand?”

 

“No,” Lindsay scolded. “You’re a guest.”

 

Smiling, the Cartwrights took their seats as the other guests started to filter into the room.

 

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

 

The meal was superb and Joe was right – it didn’t matter to Hoss in the end what any of the dishes were called, as he thoroughly enjoyed every single one of them. After the brandy had been passed around the gentlemen and the ladies had withdrawn to tidy up, they moved through to the ballroom, where the dancing was soon underway.

 

Midway through the dance, Joe finally managed to catch Lindsay and took her onto the floor. “You look tired,” he said, with concern.

 

“I am,” Lindsay agreed. “It’s been a long day, Joe.” She smiled at him. “I’m going upstairs shortly. I promised Michael I’d be in bed by midnight.”

 

“Do you turn into a pumpkin then?” Joe teased.

 

Rolling her eyes, Lindsay replied, “I’m going to in time.”

 

“Going to what?” Joe asked, confused.

 

“Turn into a pumpkin.” Lindsay smiled as Joe looked even more confused and thought what a good looking man he was. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “We wanted to tell you tonight, Joe. I’m sure Michael won’t mind.” She smiled again. “I’m expecting a baby,” she whispered.

 

“That’s wonderful!” Joe cried. “I’m so pleased for you both.” He was already shielding her from bumps as they danced, but he began to be even more careful.

 

“Don’t you dare treat me like I’m made of glass!” she chided. “I won’t break, Joe!”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Joe agreed, but he couldn’t help himself. Lindsay began to laugh at him and by the end of the dance, they were both helpless with laughter. Lindsay bade him good night and left the room.

 

It was getting late, Joe noticed. The crowd was beginning to thin out a lot. Almost as though Lindsay’s departure was a signal, people began to leave in droves. Finally, it was just the Cartwrights and the musicians packing away their gear.

 

“Come through to the bar,” Michael called, having shut the door behind the last guests. No one was yet booked into the hotel; that would come tomorrow.

 

When everyone had a drink, Michael sat down in one of the big leather chairs and sighed. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar. “I’m beat!” he declared.

 

“I’m not surprised,” Joe remarked. “But the night was a great success.”

 

“Sure was good,” Hoss agreed.

 

“Thanks,” Michael replied. “But the hard work is still to come – making the hotel pay!”

 

Raising his glass, Ben toasted, “To your success in the future!”

 

“The future,” the others echoed and drank.

 

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

 

Over the next month or so, Joe was in and out of the hotel as often as he could manage. Haying was over and they had managed to get the crop in without any break in the weather. With the dry weather, the pastures were taking a beating and Joe and Hoss seemed to be spending a large proportion of their summer moving cattle from one pasture to another before the grass became too thin.

 

One particularly hot day, all the Cartwrights were in town. Joe was going to collect the mail, Ben was going to talk to the bank manager about an investment and Hoss was collecting the supplies. It was more of an excuse for a break than anything that really required all three of them. Ben could have easily collected the mail and supplies while he was in town, but he wanted his sons to have a day off.

 

His chore complete, Joe headed down to the hotel, finding Michael in the lobby, manning the reception desk.

 

“Just the man!” Michael exclaimed. “I wanted to have a word with you, Joe.”

 

“What have I done?” Joe joked. “Where’s Lindsay?”

 

“Upstairs,” Michael replied. He saw Joe’s concerned look and smiled. “She’s all right. It’s just the heat getting to her.” Joe nodded his understanding. It was incredibly hot. “Joe, I wanted to ask you if the Ponderosa would be willing to supply the beef I need for the restaurant?”

 

“I don’t see why not,” Joe responded. “Pa’s in town if you want to talk to him about it.”

 

“I thought I’d talk to you,” Michael averred. “You’re my friend and I know you negotiate the deal for your cattle drive. You told me so yourself. Surely you can negotiate this deal?”

 

“I’m sure I could,” Joe laughed.

 

“As soon as the desk manager gets back, we can go through to the office and discuss it,” Michael smiled. “Ah! There he is!” He stepped from behind the desk with relief and led the way through to his quiet office under the stairs.

 

Once there, he stripped off his suit jacket and hung it up. “The downside of the trade is having to dress your best all the time,” he explained to Joe. “Want a drink?”

 

“Sure, thanks.” Joe took a seat in the familiar room. It was quite stuffy, but better than being out in the heat of the blazing sun. Before long, they were sipping cold beers.

 

They got right down to business and they were soon deep in figures. But it didn’t take long for the friends to agree on a price for the beef that Michael wanted and they signed the contract right there and then.

 

As he sat back in his seat, something tickled Joe’s nose. He paused and glanced round, not sure what the elusive scent was. Then he felt it again and a prickle of alarm ran up his spine. “Michael, I can smell smoke.”

 

“What?” Michael was on his feet at once. He threw open the office door and the smell of smoke grew stronger. Joe followed on his heels as they hurried through the deserted lobby and into the dining room.

 

It became apparent once they were there what the trouble was. A glass had been left in front of an open window. The sun had been streaming through and the heat through the glass had caused the tablecloth to catch fire.

 

“Ring the fire bell!” Michael shouted. “We need to get everyone out!”

 

Joe knew that he had seen the fire bell somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where. “I’ll get the kitchen staff out,” he proposed. “You get the bell!”

 

With a quick nod, Michael hurried off and Joe raced through the dining room to get to the kitchen. The smoke was building up quickly and the fire was blazing merrily. Joe coughed as the smoke tickled the back of his throat. “Fire!” he cried, bursting into the kitchen. “Fire!”

 

The kitchen staff reacted immediately and Joe felt it was safe to leave them. He scrambled back through the smoke, coughing even harder and met Michael in the lobby. “Kitchen staff are out,” he coughed. “What next?”

 

“I’ll check the rooms on the top floor,” Michael panted. “You get the first floor.”

 

“Got it!” Joe agreed and they ran up the stairs together.

 

With it being the middle of the afternoon, most of the guests weren’t in the hotel. Joe thumped on door after door, shouting out for anyone inside to answer. One couple answered the door and Joe urged them towards the stairs. Finally, he had knocked on the last door and found no one else. Turning to move to the stairs himself, Joe’s eye fell on the door marked ‘private’.

 

Lindsay! At once, Joe ran to their private quarters and pounded on the door. The frame felt warm and Joe was suddenly consumed with worry. He didn’t waste any more time waiting for Lindsay to respond – he put his shoulder to the wood and broke in.

 

The rooms were full of smoke. Joe was surprised, since he hadn’t thought the fire was spreading so fast. But the open window and the gentle breeze had fanned the flames. The rich furnishings had provided it with lots of fuel and it was now climbing up the outside of the building. Michael and Lindsay’s apartment was right above the dining room and filled with smoke.

 

“Lindsay!” Joe coughed violently as he inadvertently inhaled some smoke. “Lindsay!”

 

There was no response. Joe opened the nearest door, choking once more as he was met with a billow of smoke. Instinctively ducking beneath it, Joe entered the room, but he soon found it was empty.

 

Wiping his tearing eyes, Joe carried on his search. The little kitchen was empty and so was the living room. By now, there were flames as well as smoke. Joe knew his time was running out. He burst into the bedroom and saw Lindsay lying on the bed, apparently asleep.

 

There was no time to see if she was alive or dead. Joe ran across the room and slid his arms under Lindsay’s shoulders. As he pulled her upright, he heard a loud whooshing noise and, turning his head, saw that flames were now engulfing the doorway.

 

“Damn!” Joe glanced around and his eye fell on the window. He ran over and threw the window open.

 

The street was filled with spectators watching the fire with that mixture of horror and glee that people often displayed towards someone else’s tragedy. “Get a ladder!” Joe shouted, but his voice was lost in the clamour of the fire department arriving at a smart trot.

 

There was no way Joe could get out of the window with Lindsay. There was no balcony to escape onto and he could hardly drop an unconscious, pregnant woman down one storey. There was no other choice. Joe snatched up a discarded blanket and advanced on the flames.

 

He was coughing and wheezing badly by the time he got them smothered, but the way out was open, for the time being at least. Joe didn’t notice that his hands were burned and that several sparks had burned their way through the thin fabric of his shirt. Crossing to the bed, he picked Lindsay up and hurried out of the door.

 

The smoke eddying through the rooms was getting thicker and the flames were creeping towards him again. Joe gritted his teeth and ran through them, escaping unscathed. He tightened his grip on Lindsay and crossed to the stairs, going down as slowly and carefully as he dared.

 

The flames were eating across the lobby carpet as Joe fumbled with the door handle. He managed to get the door open at the moment the flames caught him. Joe stumbled out into the street as his pants burst into flames.

 

“Joe!”

 

Joe barely heard his name as his strength gave out and he collapsed to the ground, spilling Lindsay onto the dusty road. He was coughing hopelessly, barely able to get any oxygen. He scarcely felt the hands rolling him over and over before gathering him into a loving embrace. “Joe!”

 

Squinting, Joe looking up through watering eyes and recognised the man holding him. “Pa?” he gasped and then coughed and coughed until he lapsed into unconsciousness.

 

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

 

Kneeling in the street, cradling his unconscious son in his arms, Ben looked around for help. The hotel was burning, but the firemen seemed to be getting things under control at last. A chain of men were passing buckets to and fro and the flames were dying back. Ben couldn’t help but wish that they had got things under control a bit sooner. Then, perhaps, Joe wouldn’t be in this state.

 

“Paul?” he called, as he spotted Paul Martin, the doctor, kneeling by Lindsay’s side. The young woman was coughing, but appeared to be awake now.

 

“Be right there, Ben,” Paul replied, still kneeling by Lindsay. Ben belatedly realised that the distraught young man on Lindsay’s other side was her husband. Michael was streaked with soot and dirt, looking completely different from the well-dressed young hotelier than Ben knew.

 

After a moment, Ben saw Paul nod and say something to Michael, who lifted Lindsay into his arms and started walking down the street towards the doctor’s office. Paul rose and came over to kneel beside Joe and Ben. “How’s he doing?” Paul asked.

 

“He was coughing so much,” Ben replied, worriedly and just with that, Joe began to cough again, rousing enough to realise only that he couldn’t breathe.

 

“Let’s get him over to my office,” Paul replied. “He’s breathed in a lot of smoke. I want a closer look at those burns, too.”

 

“I’ll take him, Pa,” Hoss offered and Joe was smoothly transferred from Ben to Hoss. It was only when he rose that Ben discovered that his legs had gone to sleep.

 

“Hoss,” Joe panted, as Hoss carried him smoothly down the street. “Hoss, I –I can’t…breathe.”

 

“Then hush up an’ stop tryin’ ta talk,” Hoss advised him kindly, hiding his own fear at those words. “Jist concentrate on breathin’. We’ll be at the doc’s office soon.”

 

Joe tried to speak again, but was overtaken by another bout of coughing. He sagged limply in Hoss’ arms when the fit passed and Hoss quickened his pace. Fear shortened his own breath.

 

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

 

“Lindsay!” Joe panicked awake, remembering only the fire and his desperate fight to get Lindsay to safety. He sat bolt upright, and his uncomprehending gaze took in the doctor’s office.

 

At once, a hand rested gently on his shoulder and Joe turned his head to see his father smiling at him. “Its all right, Joe, just lie back here and rest,” Ben soothed.

 

“But… but… Lindsay,” Joe protested hoarsely, suddenly aware of how rough his voice sounded and felt. He coughed, a deep unpleasant sound and looked distressed at the black specs that appeared.

 

“It’s all right,” Ben repeated. “Don’t worry. You’ve been coughing up some soot for a while now. And Lindsay is just fine.” Ben smiled and gently made Joe lie back. “She breathed in too much smoke, just like you, but she’s fine.”

 

“Good,” Joe sighed and relaxed, only then becoming aware that he was propped up on many pillows, so that he was sitting semi-upright. And then the pain hit him and he groaned as his hands and legs began to throb and burn. “Oh… Pa…” He couldn’t articulate his misery.

 

“Easy, son,” Ben murmured. “The doctor will be back in a minute. You got a bit burned, Joe, but they aren’t severe. Sore, though.”

 

“Hmm,” Joe agreed, although sore seemed like an overwhelming understatement from his point of view. “Where are the burns?”

 

“Your hands and your legs,” Ben explained. Joe finally mastered the pain enough to open his eyes and peer down at the large white objects that resided where his hands used to be. When he had lifted both up, to convince himself that his hands were under all those bandages, he then looked when Ben raised the blankets to show Joe his legs, also bandaged from mid-calf to just below his toes.

 

The office door opened and Dr Martin came in and smiled at Joe. “Oh good, you’re awake at last. How are you feeling?”

 

“Sore,” Joe admitted. He lay quietly as Paul began to listen to his chest.

 

The door opened again and Hoss came in. Joe didn’t know where his brother had been, but he was glad to see him. He vaguely remembered Hoss carrying him, but couldn’t quite put it all together. He smiled at Hoss, who grinned back while looking mightily relieved.

 

“Well, your nap seems to have helped,” Paul declared, straightening up and removing the ear pieces of the stethoscope. “Your lungs are clearing nicely. I’ll give you something for the pain and then I think you can go home.” He grinned at the reaction he got from his patient. “Joe, does that mean you aren’t enjoying your stay here?” he teased.

 

“No offence, doc, but I’d rather go home,” Joe croaked. “How’s Lindsay?”

 

“I’m sure your Pa told you she was fine,” Paul responded, grinning at Ben. “And she is. Thanks to you! They’ve gone back to the hotel to start repair work. It wasn’t too badly damaged, all things considered.”

 

“Good,” Joe sighed.

 

“I brung the wagon ta the door, Pa,” Hoss reported.

 

“Wagon? Can’t I…?” Joe broke off coughing.

 

“No!” Ben and Paul chorused emphatically.

 

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

 

For a few days, Joe was quite unwell. He continued to sleep sitting up, which meant that his sleep was disturbed, as when he got too deeply asleep, he was inclined to fall over. His hands and legs hurt quite a bit initially, but gradually settled as they started healing. Within a few days, he was out of bed and within a couple of weeks, he was going about almost as though nothing had happened.

 

Almost. The skin on his hands was tender and he had to be careful that he didn’t burst the skin. His boots chafed the skin on his legs and he couldn’t walk about much outside. But slowly, he healed until after about six weeks, he felt as good as new.

 

During that time, Ben had kept him apprised of the situation at the hotel. Michael had got repairs underway at once. Michael had placed buckets of sand in each corridor for use against fire and he had decided that he and Lindsay should have a house of their own. One was under construction a short distance away from the hotel.

 

When at last Joe was cleared to ride, he went straight into town. His memories of the fire were luckily hazy. Smoke inhalation tended to do that, Joe had learned. However, he didn’t count it as a bad thing, given what he had been told he probably did.

 

Dismounting in front of the hotel, Joe looked at it. It appeared mostly unchanged, but then, he glanced down at himself for a second, so did he, outwardly at least. Joe knew there would be changes inside. He slowly climbed the steps.

 

“Mr Peterson is in his office, Mr Cartwright,” beamed the desk clerk. “Just go right through.”

 

“Thanks,” Joe replied. He made his way to Michael’s office and knocked on the closed door.

 

“Come in.” The voice from inside sounded pre-occupied and for a moment, Joe contemplated not going in. But it was too late, he had knocked and so he opened the door.

 

“Joe!” Michael jumped to his feet, a broad grin on his face, and rounded the desk, grabbing Joe’s hand gently and pumping it up and down. “It’s so good to see you! I wish I’d been able to get out to the ranch to see you before this! I’m so sorry I didn’t make it! How are you? Sit down.”

 

Slightly overwhelmed with this rush of words, Joe did just as he was told and sat down. “I’m fine, Michael,” he responded. “How’s Lindsay?”

 

“I’m fine,” replied a voice from behind him and Joe instinctively got to his feet as he turned around.

 

Lindsay looked lovely. Her figure was just beginning to show the coming child, and she looked radiant.

 

“Lindsay.” Joe suddenly found that he didn’t know what to say to her.

 

However, Lindsay had no such compunctions. She moved forward until she could take Joe in her arms and hugged him closely. “I don’t know how to thank you for saving my life,” she whispered, her voice laden with tears.

 

Tentatively hugging her back, Joe found his own eyes damp. “There’s no need,” he replied, hoarsely. “I just did what anyone would have done.”

 

“I think you did more than could be asked of anyone,” Michael objected. He had moved round to stand close to his friend and his wife. He put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he confessed. “What you did… It was so much. You saved Lindsay and our child. It’s… I…” Michael didn’t know how to continue.

 

But it was more than enough for Joe, who was horribly embarrassed. “As long as you’re all right,” he concluded. “That’s all that matters.”

 

The three stood there for some time, not talking, just being grateful that thanks to the bravery of one man, they were there, all alive and in one piece. It put a seal on their friendship, making it even stronger than it had been before.

 

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

 

Several months later, a messenger appeared at the Ponderosa in the early evening. “Joe, it’s a boy!” Michael shouted when Joe opened the door. “A boy!”

 

“That’s great news!” Joe exclaimed. He had known Lindsay’s time was close, but hadn’t known how close. “Congratulations, Pa!”

 

Drunk on joy, Michael laughed. “We’ve named him after you,” he rushed on. “Joseph Michael.”

 

“What?” Joe gasped. “Really?”

 

“Really.” Michael sobered. “If it hadn’t been for you, he wouldn’t be here now and neither would Lindsay,” he reminded his friend. “It seems the least we could do to thank you.”

 

As Joe started to mutter something to the contrary, Ben stepped into the breach. “Congratulations,” he said, warmly. “I just hope that your Joseph isn’t quite as much of a handful as mine.” He laughed as Joe stopped muttering and started spluttering indignantly.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael grinned. “When he’s awful, we’ll just hand him over to his godfather for a while.”

 

“Who’s his godfather?” Hoss asked, shaking Michael’s hand.

 

The other man grinned broadly. “Why, Joe, of course!”

 

 

The End

 

 

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