He Said Not to Tell

By DebbieB

dlb1248@aol.com

 

Fifteen year old Little Joe Cartwright moved through the shadows of the old barn to stand in front of his friend. The young girl was sobbing her heart out. Joe placed both of his hands on either side of her shoulders and shook her gently to get her full attention. She looked up at him with sad, tear-filled eyes and lowered her head, hiding the shame in her expression.

“Please Maggie, stop crying and tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded with the distressed girl. “Maggie, come on, it can’t be that bad. Won’t you please stop crying? You’re scaring me.”

Maggie sniffled and then looked up at Little Joe for the second time. She could see the worry on his handsome face. “I’m sorry…Little Joe…I don’t mean to be…such a baby,” she wept.

“Then tell me why you’re crying. Are you sick…has someone hurt you…is your pa alright?” quizzed Little Joe.

Maggie shook her head. “No…I…it’s nothing, really…”

“MAGGIE!”

A look of panic brought Maggie’s tears to an end. She turned to Joe, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to the back of the barn where there was a missing board that Joe used to enter and leave through. “Go…please, hurry Joe before he finds you here, he’ll kill you Joe, hurry!” the frightened girl pleaded.

Joe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Kill me…oh come on Mag Pie, he’s your brother…” Joe could see, through the partially opened door, Maggie’s older brother walking toward the barn. He swallowed. He knew that Maggie’s brother and father truly did not like the boys hanging around Maggie, but Joe didn’t believe for a minute that her brother would kill someone.

“MAGGIE, ARE YOU IN THERE?”

Tears welled again in Maggie’s sky blue eyes. “Please, just go…I’ve had a bad day, that’s all Little Joe, go before…”

The creaking of the barn door being opened silenced both the girl and the boy. “I’ll go Mag Pie, but I don’t believe you. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon…bye,” Joe whispered as he slipped through the opening and made his escape.

Maggie quickly dried her eyes. As she turned around she found herself standing face to face with her brother Heath. She could see the anger in his eyes and in the expression on his face. Cold sweat beaded her brow and she shivered.

“What are you doing…who were you talking to?” the angry young man demanded. Heath was tall and muscular. At nineteen he was strong and had proven on more than one occasion that he was as capable as any to take on a full grown man in a hand to hand fight. He towered over his sister. “I asked you a question,” he growled.

Maggie took a stop back. “No one…honest Heath…I…I was calling for the chickens…I saw them come in here and I thought…I thought they might have a nest and I was…looking for eggs.” She glanced around. “See, there’s a chicken,” she said as a single fat hen flutter its wings and perched on the top railing of one of the stalls.

Maggie tried to move around him but Heath grabbed her arm. “Let go of me, you’re hurting my arm,” she said as she looked into his eyes. Heath made a growling sound deep inside his throat as he pulled the girl into his arms and held her tightly against his chest. He could feel the quivering of her body against his own. Closing his eyes, he lowered his head to hers. “Oh Maggie…Maggie…” he breathed into her ear.

Maggie struggled against the strong arms that held her captive. “No…Heath…no…let me go…”

Heath’s lips found Maggie’s and he kissed her roughly, bruising her lips. Maggie tried tossing her head back and forth in a vain effort to stop the crazed man’s advances. “NO…”

Heath paid no attention to his sister’s pleas. His lips move to her cheek, kissing every inch of her face and then traveled to her ear. “Oh Maggie…why must you always fight me,” he whispered, all the while kissing and sucking tenderly on her neck. “You know how much I want you…”

“No Heath, please…not again…Papa might find us…and if sees what you’re doing, he might just kill you…stop oh God…please stop.”

Heath pushed Maggie backward into one of the stalls where the light had faded and shoved the girl down into the pile of hay. She started to get up, but Heath leaned down and slapped her face hard causing her to fall back into the nest of straw. Her breathing was labored; tears rolled gently down the sides of her face. Horrified she watched as Heath unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers before he lowered himself down atop his sister……….

When Heath had spent himself he rose, pulled up his pants and fastened his belt. “Get to the house. I’m hungry,” he ordered. He stepped aside to allow Maggie to pass. Maggie’s hair had bits of straw entangled in the long golden tresses. Her dress had been ripped and she struggled to cover herself.

“Straighten yourself up, girl…” She’d gotten as far as the door when Heath called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. She didn’t look back…she hated the sight of him…

“Remember Maggie, you better not tell anyone what goes on between us…and stay away from the boys. The next time that I catch that Joe Cartwright here, I’ll make him wish he’d never laid eyes on you…and if I hear tell he’s so much as put a finger on you…I’ll kill him for sure. You’re mine Maggie…you hear me…mine and mine alone! Joe Cartwright best learn his place before I have to teach him!” Maggie spun around, shaking like a leaf. Heath’s laughter was deep and threatening. “I recognized that pinto. That’s right, my pretty,” he said as he causally strolled over to his sister. “I saw him leave…I guess I need to get that board fixed don’t I?” he leered. He grabbed her arm then and shoved her forward. “Get moving…I want my supper you little tramp!” Maggie jerked free and ran crying into the house.

 

All the way home, Little Joe tried to think of reasons why Maggie, or Mag Pie as he loved to refer to the pretty girl, was crying. She had said that her pa wasn’t sick and that no one had hurt her. Nothing he could imagine might explain why his friend had been so upset. Little Joe didn’t really believe that her tears were caused simply because she was having a bad day…everyone had bad days now and then, even himself he mused. And what on earth did she mean when she’d told him that her brother would kill him if he found him there. It didn’t seem to Joe that Heath were the killing kind; he had met the older teen before and had thought he was nice enough.

Halfway home Joe decided that he would talk to Adam about the reason that would cause a girl to cry. He was pretty sure that Adam would know, considering that Adam had told him several times that he had women all figured out and knew all there was to know about the female sexes. Joe had doubted that but Adam seemed so sure of himself. He snickered. No, he thought, I’ll simply ask Pa. After all his father had been married three times, he would be able to explain it to him.

Again Joe snickered. No use in asking his middle brother, Hoss. Why Hoss was so bashful he wouldn’t even dance with the gals at parties or barn dances; or at least not after the first attempt. Joe laughed out loud. He was remembering the time that the three of them had gone to this one barn dance and the prettiest girl there had waltzed right up to Hoss and had asked him to dance. Hoss was too much of a gentleman to refuse the girl so he escorted her to the middle of the floor. Minutes later everything got quiet and everyone there was watching the scene. Seemed as if Hoss, being a man of humongous size had stepped all over that poor girl’s dainty feet. She had become so furious with Hoss that she had stomped her heeled shoe right down on top of Hoss’ foot. Hoss had squealed like a branded calf, jumping around on one foot and holding the other in his hands, howling…thus catching the attention of all the couples there. Then the little lady had the audacity to march right over to Adam and asked Adam to dance instead. Why the color that blossomed on his older brother’s face was brighter than that on Hoss’ face. Adam had the good graces to refuse the girl, had grabbed Joe, who had been standing next to him, by the scuff of the neck, nodded his head at Hoss and all three of them had marched right out of that old barn, the high pitched laughter of all the townsfolk burning in their ears. Nope decided Joe, no need to trouble ole Hoss!

 

Hoss was just coming from the house when Little Joe rode into the yard. “Hey Shortshanks…about time you decided to come home,” Hoss teasingly greeted his younger brother. He stood at the hitching post waiting for Joe to lace the reins around the bar.

“Hi Hoss…I’m not late am I?” he asked

“Nope…just in time to help me with the evening chores. We gots plenty to do,” Hoss explained.

Joe glanced around the yard. “Say, where’s Pa and Adam?”

“Oh, they left before you got up this morning. Pa had a meeting with a fella over in Genoa and Adam went with him to look at some horses,” Hoss said. “They won’t be back until tomorrow sometime.” Hoss saw the look of worry that formed on Little Joe’s face. “Somethin’ wrong buddy?”

Joe glanced up at his brother and shook his head. “What about supper…you ain’t gonna cook are you?”

Hoss tossed back his massive head and bellowed loudly. “Naw…ya ain’t got no need to worry Joe, Hop Sing is still here, he’s fixing supper now.”

“Oh…good. You say Pa won’t be back until tomorrow?” Joe asked again.

“That’s right. Why, ya got something’ on your mind?”

“No…well…yeah. I needed to talk to him about something,” Joe said as they walked together toward the barn.

“Anythin’ I can help ya with?”

Joe saw the concern in his brother’s eyes but still couldn’t bring himself to ask Hoss if he knew what would make a girl cry all the time. For that was what Maggie had been doing. The last couple of times that Joe had managed to spend time with her, all she did was cry. “No thanks, it’s something I wanted to ask Pa. It can wait…”

 

Once Maggie entered the house, she hurried to the sink in order to wash her face. She wished for a tub of hot water to ease her aching body into and for time to soak away all the pain and disappointment of her shattered life. She glanced over toward the fireplace. He father was either asleep in the old rocking chair or passed out from being drunk again. She sighed deeply…”I hate you papa…and Heath even more…Oh why did mama have to die?” she sobbed to herself.

Ever since Margaret Wilson had died, her father had stopped living, had stopped caring about those who were left behind. The farm was failing; the crops lay rotted in the field, all the livestock except for the old milk cow had been sold just so that they could keep food on the table. They were late paying their taxes and Maggie knew it would not be long before they’d be kicked off the place. Heath had become vile and mean, hitting her for no reasons and doing things to her that had their father been in a sound mind, would never have let happened. She had no one who cared, no one who loved her…except for one person, Little Joe Cartwright. Oh God, how she loved him. He was the one person to whom she could turn, the one person who looked beyond her faltering family and saw her for the young woman she was deep inside. She didn’t doubt that Joe loved her…and it was her failing dream of one day being his wife that she most hated her father and brother for. When Little Joe learned the truth about her…and he would…he’d turn and simply walk away from her…never look back. But even if he didn’t, his father, the wealthy Ben Cartwright would never allow his youngest son to marry Maggie Wilson, daughter of a drunkard, whore to her own brother…white trash. Maggie closed her eyes, lowered her head and wept for the hundredth time that day.

Hours later when supper was finished, Maggie stood at the sink washing the dishes. She heard the front door open and knew her brother had just entered the house. She didn’t look up, she didn’t greet him; she tried to ignore him. His footsteps could be heard as he walked through the house. Maggie knew he had just looked in on their father who had awakened enough to eat supper and then had gone to bed, but not before he had finished off the last bottle of whiskey. Papa had passed out and Heath had carried him into his bedroom and put him to bed. Now Heath stood behind her. She felt her body begin to tremble, she knew what he was about to do.

Heath laid one hand on her shoulder. He smiled when he felt the tremors, believing that she was excited by his touch. Gently he leaned down, moved her long golden locks from her neck and began kissing at the nape of her neck. Maggie shuttered and tried to move away. “No Heath…” she said as she tried to turn away. Heath’s strong fingers dug into the tender flesh of her shoulders as he spun her around until she faced him. He failed to see the bruises he’d caused earlier; those on her cheeks, her lips and even her shoulders.

“Don’t play the tease with me little sister. I know you enjoy this as much as I do…even though you try to pretend you don’t.”

 He leaned into her, pressing her back against the sink as he lowered his face to hers. He paused just long enough to look into her tear filled eyes and then smiling he crushed his lips to hers. “I just bet Joe Cartwright never kissed you like this,” he uttered. She tried pushing him away; tried turning her head but the pressure of his body against her own made the efforts worthless. Heath’s movements became urgent as his body hardened against her movements which he believed was his invitation. His hands moved to the front of her dress as he began to pull at the buttons. In desperation he ripped opened the bodice of her dress revealing her exposed breasts. “Oh God, Maggie, you are so beautiful and you’re mine…all mine,” he muttered as he swept the young girl up into his arms and carried her screaming and weeping into his room.

 

“Well good morning young man,” Ben greeted his son. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Joe stood at the credenza gathering his hat and jacket. He turned suddenly, surprised to see his father standing behind him, grinning.

“Hi ya, Pa,” smiled Joe in greeting. “I didn’t know you were home…Hoss said you wouldn’t be back until this afternoon.”

“Well we didn’t plan on coming home last night, but Adam and I both finished our business early and decided that we’d rather sleep in our own beds than stay at a hotel. You were already fast asleep and snoring I might add, when I checked in on you last night,” explained Ben as he sipped his coffee.

Joe felt his face redden. He grinned sheepishly up at his father. “You still treat me like a little boy, you know that?” he dared his father.

Ben chuckled as he placed one hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And for as long as I’m alive, no matter how old you become, you will always be my little boy…do you know that?” he teased.

Joe couldn’t help the laughter than sprang forth. “Aw Pa,” he said.

“Well it’s true. Now, you didn’t answer my question. Where are headed to in such a hurry?”

Ben caught his son’s hesitation. “Um…I’m just going to visit a friend. I finished my morning chores earlier, honest Pa.  I won’t be long, I promise…” Joe asked with what Ben might consider a pleading look in his eyes.

“Alright, as long as you’re not late for supper. You have my permission.”

Joe’s face brightened immediately. “Gee, thanks Pa…and I promise, I won’t be late,” Joe called as he ran out the door.

Ben watched as his son sprang onto his horse and raced from the yard. He laughed out loud.

“What’s so funny?” Hoss, who had just come from the kitchen, asked his father. He peeped over Ben’s shoulder to see what his father was looking at but the yard was void of anyone.

“Him,” Ben said closing the door.

“Him…who?” asked the puzzled Hoss.

“Your little brother, that’s who,” answered Ben as he moved to the table to pour himself another cup of coffee.

“Little Joe?” Hoss scrunched up his face. “What’s he done now?”

Ben frowned at his middle son. “Nothing…he’s off to see his sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart!” stormed Hoss.  “Joe’s got himself a little gal friend?”

“You didn’t know?  Your little brother is in love……..”

Hoss’ eyes widened in shock. “LOVE!  What’s that boy know about love?” stormed Hoss.

Ben laughed. “Puppy love Hoss…admiration…enchantment…he thinks he’s in love,” Ben explained.

Hoss was pacing the floor. He shook his head back and forth. When he stopped, he stood eye to eye with his father.

“And he told you that?” Hoss’ brows furrowed.

Again Ben laughed. “No, of course not; but I know…”

“How?”

“How…what?” Ben asked his son.

“How’s come you know if’n he didn’t tell you?” inquired Hoss.

“Oh son,” Ben said as he slapped the young man on the back. “He has…that look.”

“What look?”

“The look of love…oh Hoss…really, but truth of the matter is that I’ve seen your brother a couple of times up at the lake. The girl was with him…apparently he’d taken her on a picnic,” chuckled Ben.

Hoss grinned ear to ear. “Really…is she purty…do you know who she is?” He rubbed his hands together.

“Yes, she happens to be very pretty…and as to who she might be…that’s for Little Joe to tell you…”

“Aw shucks, Pa…come on, out with it, I know you’re dying to tell me……….”

Ben laughed and then took a swallow of coffee. Having downed that, he explained. “I think her name is Maggie if I’m not mistaken. I do know that her father is Luke Wilson….”

“That drunkard?” stammered Hoss.

Ben put both hands on his hips. “Hoss Cartwright, you know perfectly well that you cannot judge that girl by the way her father lives his life!” be scolded.

“Dadburnit, Pa…I know that. Hey, maybe that’s what he wanted to talk to you about,” Hoss said.

Ben had started towards the door. It was time to do the chores. He turned back to his son. “Little Joe wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Did he happen to tell you why? Is something wrong?” quizzed Ben.

“No sir, I offered to talk to him, but he said he’d just wait until you got home. Guess he didn’t say anything this morning.”

Ben grabbed his hat and pistol and began putting them on. “No…he didn’t mention a thing. Guess it wasn’t anything serious. Come on,” he told Hoss. “Daylight’s burning, there’s work to be done.”

 

Little Joe tied his horse in the bushes where it wouldn’t be seen. He crept quietly toward the barn and entered through the plank that had come loose from the boards. It was dark and musty inside and the smell of manure was strong. Ignoring the stench, Joe moved deeper into the shadows to wait for Maggie whom he knew would be coming out to milk the old cow. As he waited in the darkness, he glanced around at the rundown conditions of the barn and felt a sort of pity for the few animals once housed within its walls. He thought of Maggie, so young and pretty. Her eyes were sky blue and danced with merriment when she was with him. Her long golden hair was soft and silky and Joe had no doubts that he loved her. He longed for the time that he would be old enough to ask for her hand in marriage. She was sweet and caring and she was always so happy to see him and spend time with him. Joe knew that her father was a drunkard…that life had dealt him a hard blow with the death of his wife…just as it had his own father, on more than one occasion. He was the lucky one, his father had snapped out of his grief, Maggie’s had sank deeper and deeper with each passing year. He couldn’t wait to make Maggie his and take her away from here, she deserved better than what she was getting and Joe hoped that someday, when they were married, he could give her the life she deserved.

He’d waited so long that he began to think that Maggie might have already milked the cow. He walked over to the stall to check; no, it was obvious that the cow was in need of milking. The creaking of the barn door caused Joe to drop to the ground, lest the person entering be someone other than Maggie. Joe listened as the person made their way to the stall where the milk cow munched on its cud.

“Psst,” whispered Joe when he saw that it was Maggie.

“Oh…Joe…you scared the life out of me,” she cried in a startled voice.

Joe snickered. But his merriment died when Maggie stepped into the light and he saw the bruises on her face. Anger instantly filled him. He reached out, taking her by the shoulders. Maggie winced and backed up. Joe lowered his hands. “Maggie…what happened to your face…who did this to you?” he beseeched her.

“Nobody…I…I…tripped,” she lied.

Joe, his anger now showing in his hazel eyes and making them dark stepped forward and gently took her hands in his. “Please, don’t lie to me. You didn’t get those bruises by falling…now I want to know, who did this to you?”

Joe watched the girl’s eyes fill with tears. She lowered her head, causing the droplets to flow slowly down her face. Joe tilted her chin upward. “Was it your pa?”

Maggie pulled her chin free, along with her hands and turned away from him. She shook her head no.

“Then it must have been your brother. Why Maggie, why did he beat you like this?” Joe said, demanding an answer.

“No…he didn’t…”

“MAGGIE, DON’T LIE TO ME!” shouted Joe as he moved around her in order to see into her eyes.

“Oh, Little Joe,” she sobbed, tears rolling quickly down her face. “I’m sorry…so, so sorry…”

“Sorry for what, Maggie? I don’t understand what’s wrong,” pleaded Little Joe.

She took Joe’s arm and led him deeper into the shadows of the barn until it was so dark that she could barely make out his features. “It wasn’t my fault…”

“What wasn’t your fault…come on Maggie, spit it out…what’s been going on?”

Maggie covered her face with her hands and wept, gut-wrenching sobs racked her body. “Oh…Joe…I’m…I’m…going…to have a…baby!” she sobbed hysterically.

“What?” whispered Joe. His eyes were wide with wonder, not sure he’d heard the girl correctly.

She raised her head slightly to look at him. She saw shock and repulsion in his eyes and on his face. It was just what she had known would happen, he suddenly hated her.

Maggie took a deep breath in order to still herself for what she had to say; she forced her tears to stop. When she spoke, her voice quivered. “I said…I am going to have a baby.”

The pause in conversation was long. It took Little Joe several moments for the information to sink in. He turned from her, unwilling to let her see his tears. “I didn’t…know that you were…seeing anyone other than me,” he said in a near whisper.

Maggie stepped up to him. Joe kept his back to her but turned when he felt her hand on his arm. “Oh Joe…I’m not, honest, it’s you I love…only you,” she cried. He turned then to look at her. He glanced down at her belly. “Then how could…I mean…it’s certainly not my baby,” he stormed, suddenly enraged…and embarrassed at the context of the conversation they were having.

He spun around again facing her. “I want to know who you’ve been with…and don’t lie to me, Maggie.”

She hung her head in shame. She feared what Little Joe might do. She hated to break his heart, but he wanted the truth. Maggie gulped. “Look at my face Little Joe…the bruises…and you know I’ve not left this place with anyone other than you. Who do you think did this?” she grumbled. Tears had filled her eyes again. “You really don’t get it, do you Little Joe?” she whimpered lowly.

Joe shook his head no. “I reckon not, Maggie…why don’t you tell me?”

She looked with sad eyes at her beloved. “My brother…he’s been…raping me, Little Joe.” Her voice cracked and she began weeping again.

“Heath?” stated Joe as he started toward the door. “Raping you?” he gasped in total uncontrolled anger. Maggie ran after him and grabbed his arm.

“Where are you going?” she wept.

“To have a talk with your brother,” he growled. Hatred burned the emerald in his eyes into a deep dark unyielding shade of Jade

“No…oh God no, Joe…please don’t. He’ll kill you…he said as much. Said if he caught you hanging around here he’d kill you…please Joe…let’s just run away,” sobbed Maggie as she dropped to her knees. “Oh God, Joe…I wish…I wish I’d never been born…I wish I were…DEAD! I wish this baby was dead….”

Joe’s anger subsided as he lowered himself to her level. Tears pooled in his eyes. “No Maggie…no, don’t talk like that…please, it isn’t your fault. It isn’t the baby’s fault. Oh Mag…you wouldn’t do anything to…hurt the baby would you?”

“No, not really, but…” she said quietly. “I but I wish it were your baby…and not my brother’s. Oh Joe, this is awful…what am I going to do?” she wept.

“I don’t know…let me think,” cried Joe. He rose and walked to the door. Heath had just come from the house and he watched as Maggie’s brother mounted up and rode away. His knuckles were white where he gripped so hard at the doorframe in order to keep from running after the bastard and killing him. When Joe turned back to Maggie, he smiled, wiped his tears from his eyes. “Maggie…will you…” he swallowed. “Marry me?”

“What?” she stammered as she came close to him.

“Marry me, Maggie. Then…no one need know who the real father is. Everyone will believe he’s mine.”

“Oh Joe…you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to be your wife…someday when we were older. But now? Do you actually believe that your pa would let you marry me? And if he finds out about the baby…no, Joe…I can’t let you ruin your life…”

“Hush Maggie…it’s my life…and once I tell my pa that we…have to get married, he won’t try to stop us.”

Maggie was stunned. “You’d…lie to your own father? You’d actually let him think that we…that is baby is really yours?”

Joe was shaking his head. “No…not unless I have to. Maggie, it’s the only way…we can do this…even if we have to run away. I can’t let you stay here much longer knowing what that bastard’s doing to you!”

“Listen…Heath just left. I’m going home to talk to my pa…you be ready in the morning. No matter what, I’ll come for you…and if Pa won’t help me…then…then we’ll just have to run away. Promise me Maggie, you’ll be here first thing in the morning,”

Maggie wiped her nose with the hem of her dress. When she looked up at Little Joe, she smiled softly. “Alright, Little Joe…I’ll be here, waiting. Please though, be careful. If Heath should see you, he will kill you, trust me,” she said as she tiptoed to place a kiss on his cheek.

He smiled at her, cupped her chin and placed his lips tenderly over hers. “I promise Maggie, once we’re married, no one…no one…will ever hurt you again,” he vowed and then slipped through the opening in the back of the barn. Maggie watched him go until she could no longer see him making his way through the bushes.

 

The troubling thoughts that bounced around in his head caused his stomach to hurt. He felt as if he might be sick and several times he had to swallow down the foul tasting bile that billowed in the back of his throat. How on earth was he ever going to get his father to understand about why he wanted to marry Maggie? Ben would surely believe him to have lost his mind. Even if by some fat chance his father agreed, how in tarnation would he ever be able to care for Maggie, the baby and himself? He’d have to have help…worse, could he actually do it on his own if he and Maggie had to run away? And where would they go? Two fifteen year olds, alone, with a baby on the way…he trembled at the thoughts.

“Dear God…show me what to do? It’s not her fault…”

Ben was at the door when Joe rode in. He watched his son as the boy dismounted, laced the reins around the hitching post and slowly made his way to the house. He took another sip of his hot coffee. It tasted good.

“Well, I see you made it just in time for supper,” Ben greeted the boy. Joe had taken off his jacket and hung it on the peg behind the door. Then he removed his hat. When he turned around, tears had unwittingly filled his eyes. “I need to talk to you Pa,” he said, lowering his head to keep his father from seeing the tears that threatened to spill forth.

“Of course, son, what’s on your mind?” Ben asked, taking another sip of coffee. Joe raised his head, confident that the tears had dried in his eyes. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth, but the words stuck in the back of his throat.

“Well, out with it,” smiled Ben, unaware that his life was fixing to change forever.

“Maggie Wilson…”

“Aw, yes…a pretty girl…and very nice from what folks say about her. Oh, I’m sorry Joseph, what were you about to say?” Ben took a big sip of his coffee and momentarily held it in his mouth.

“We’re…gonna…get married,” Joe said in a low voice.

At that moment, Ben’s coffee spewed forth from his mouth and splattered the front of his young son’s shirt.

“MARRIED! DID YOU SAY MARRIED!” he screeched loudly. The windows in the dining area rattled. Knick-knacks on the mantle jingled.

Joe stepped back, scrunched up his face at the noise and swiped at the coffee that now stained his shirt.

“You don’t have to shout,” he told his father.

“I’M NOT SHOUTING,” yelled Ben. He took another deep breath. “Just what in tarnation are you talking about young man,” growled Ben in a lower voice. “Have you totally lost your mind…get married my foot! Just what is the meaning of this? Whose idea was this anyway…that…that…girl’s? Get married,” he muttered, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the disturbing words.

“That girl’s name happens to be Maggie…Maggie Wilson…and I happen to love her…and I asked her to marry me,” stormed Joe. Tears had pooled once more in his eyes, his chin began to quiver as he glared at his father.

“Have you lost your mind, boy?” growled Ben. His own eyes had turned a dark shade of black. His hands shook. The cup on the saucer rattled, yet the trembling man could not seem to be able to put it down.

Joe’s tears began to drip down his face. He was scared but knew he couldn’t back down now, he’d made Maggie a promise and he aimed to keep that promise.

“You don’t understand, Pa,” he said in a faltering voice.

“No I do not understand,” yelled Ben. “Why don’t you enlighten me?” he growled. “Just why would you want to get married? Joseph for God’s sake boy, you’re not but fifteen years old! And how old is…is…what’s her name?”

“Maggie…”

“Maggie…then…explain to me why…Joseph, for heaven’s sake why?” Ben implored his son.

“Pa,” Little Joe said, turning away so as not to have to see the pain in his father’s eyes. “We…we, have to get married.” There, the lie was out. He turned just then, in time to see the cup and saucer fall to the floor and shatter into tiny pieces of pink and white china.

Ben’s trembling hands grabbed the boy’s shoulders and jerked Joe forward. “What did you just say?” he demanded in a deep uncontrollable voice. “You…you have…to get married?” His tone had dropped to a near whisper. Fear pumped his heart.

Joe nodded his head slowly. He knew he was killing his father. He half expected his father to fall to the floor, suffering a heart attack.

“Dear Lord, Joseph,” wept Ben as he pulled the boy into his arms and embraced his son. “What have you done this time?”

Joe barely resisted the invitation of comfort that his father offered him. The stress of the day, the fear he felt in his heart for Maggie, the hatred for her brother, the panic of what was to come, all caused him to engulf his father’s warmth. His arms slipped about Ben’s waist; he buried his face in the soft comfort of his father’s vest and sobbed out his misery. For several long minutes father and son stood as such, each wrapped in their own thoughts. Ben clinging tightly to the last shreds of his son’s boyhood.

“I sorry…so sorry, Pa,” cried Joe. “I…never…meant for…this to…happen.”

“No, of course you didn’t,” Ben said gently at last clearing his mind of the chilling metaphors that had suddenly plagued his mind. “But Joseph,” he said, gently pulling his son back and tilting the quivering chin up so that he could see into the boy’s watery eyes. “What did you think would happen…when…you, when you and she…”

“Pa…please, try to understand…it isn’t…I mean…it will be…” unable to continue, Joe lowered his head. “Please, just let me marry her,” he begged.

“No,” his father stated firmly. Joe looked up at Ben. “Not yet…not until I’ve had time to think. This is such a…total shock…I need time to…think it through son. And I want to be sure about a few things first. I need to know how her father feels…”

“He doesn’t know, Pa. Maggie hasn’t told him. He…well you know how he is, he stays drunk all the time.”

“But Joe, he has to be told there’s a…baby…on the way…dear lord,” Ben sighed. A baby he thought…I’m about to be a…grandfather…Joe’s words broke through the maze in his head.

“No…Pa. Maggie’s not going to tell him. Once we’re married…then…then later we’ll both tell him, but not until after we’re married,” Joe said forcibly.

“I don’t know, son. That sounds like deception to me…an out and out lie,” Ben told his son. Joe cringed at his father’s words. If only Ben had known the lie he’d just been told!

“Right now Joseph, I want you to go to your room and stay there. I’ll have Hop Sing bring your dinner to you. I need time…and…space to think this through. Joe,” he said, taking his son in his arms again, “I’ll do everything possible to help you…and…Maggie, but I can’t promise I’ll let you marry her. Now please,” he asked, gently pushing Joe back, “stay in your room until I send for you.”

Joe used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the moisture from his eyes as he shook his head. “Alright, Pa,” he muttered as he made his way slowly up the stairs. On the landing, he stopped and turned back in time to see his father wiping his own eyes with his handkerchief. A deep throbbing pain struck Joe in his chest at what he’d just done to his father, to himself and to his whole family. He turned away from the scene and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him and throwing himself onto his bed. For an hour Joe sobbed out his heartache…his conscience making his head to throb…until at last sleep grabbed him from reality and took the boy on to a dream into the world of nothingness.

Ben moved to his chair and lowered his weary body into the comforting folds of the soft leather. He leaned forward. Tears burned his eyes. With elbows propped on his knees and his hands opened, he covered his face and wept gut wrenching tears of sorrow, pain and fear for what his youngest boy had just exposed to him. “My baby…my boy…suddenly a man, about to be a father…and yet so young, so very, very young. Oh Marie…whatever am I going to do now? How on earth am I going to be able to help him this time?” Ben sobbed with a broken heart. “If only it was five years into the future, he could have embraced his son’s desires and given both Joe and Maggie his heartfelt blessings…but could he at fifteen?

 

Joe had waited as long as he dared. He had no intentions of waiting until morning before going for Maggie and whisking her away. After tossing a few needed items into his valise, he tossed it out the window and cautiously crawled out onto the roof. Easing his way to the edge, he dropped quietly to the ground. He looked around to assure himself no one had seen or heard him before he ran to the barn and saddled his horse and a gentle mare for Maggie. Half an hour later he stood outside of the old barn. Swallowing hard to build his courage, he slipped through the broken board into the darkness of the barn. Once inside, he stood still in the dimness waiting for his eyes to adjust to the lightening.

“Maggie?” he whispered. He waited, hoping for an answer. “Maggie,” he called a bit louder as he moved forward into the barn. He cast his eyes around at his surroundings and noted that Maggie had at least been there, her bag was sitting just inside one empty stall. He entered the stall and picked up the bag, feeling the weight of her belongings. He sat it down and turned around.

“Looking for Maggie?” growled Heath, grinning wickedly. Before Joe could respond, Heath smashed the younger teen’s face with a powerful blow of his fist. Joe was spun around and fell face down into the straw. The blow numbed his ears, caused blood to spew from his nose and caused his head to spin. Seconds after hitting the ground, Joe passed out. Heath’s wicked laughter filled the empty barn. The night owls that roosted overhead took flight and flew out the openings in the roof.

Heath stepped over to the opposite stall and kicked aside the hay that lay on the floor. When he had cleared enough out of his way, he reached down and opened the hidden door that led to an underground storage room. Grabbing the unconscious kid and flinging him over his shoulder, Heath carried Little Joe down the narrow steps and deeply into the hidden room where he all but dropped his prisoner onto the hard cold ground. Joe moaned softly but failed to open his eyes.

Heath had devised months ago a heavy wooden door that he pulled closed. Using an oversized lock that he’d placed there to secure the cell, he snapped it shut, locking the wounded boy away from prying eyes. Heath snickered; his plan had worked. Not even God above would ever find the soon to be missing lad…least of all the boy’s family.

 

Ben sat his cup and saucer on the table and turned to Adam. “Would you please tell Joe to come down?”

“Sure,” answered Adam, rising from where he sat with his father and brother at the table. He paused. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about all of this?”

“I think I have a plan,” responded Ben. “I just don’t know what your brother is going to say about it.”

“Guess we’ll know in a few minutes. I’ll go get him,” answered Adam as he walked up the stairs. Outside Joe’s room, he paused, knocking on the door. When he received no response, he opened the door quietly in case his brother was still sleeping. What he saw caused his head to instantly start pounding. Dresser drawers were opened, clothes had been slung all over the room, the bed had not been slept in and the window was part way opened. Adam hurried to the window to look out, not really expecting to see his brother below. Pursing his lips, he turned and retraced his steps back to the table and sat down.

“Well…is he coming?” Ben asked.

“I reckon not,” answered Adam, “he’s gone…”

Ben stood up, glaring at his oldest son. “What do you mean ‘he’s gone’?”

Adam rose to face his father. “He’s not here. His clothes are gone, the bed’s not been slept in, the window is opened…he slipped out sometime after we went to bed,” Adam explained.

“Dear God…Hoss, saddle our horses, we have to find that boy before he does something stupid!” shouted Ben.

“Yes sir,” Hoss answered as he rushed out the door. “Danburnitall, Little Joe…” muttered Hoss to himself.

Adam helped his father gather what few things he thought they might need and then met Hoss waiting in the yard with their horses. “Mount up boys,” ordered Ben.

“Where ya headed?” asked Hoss.

“The Wilson place, son; I want to know what Luke knows about all of this. And maybe that boy of his could help us look. I have a feeling deep in my gut that Joe has taken that girl away to marry her,” Ben called out to his sons as they raced for the Wilson ranch.

When they rode into the yard, Ben noted that the Wilson boy was coming out of the barn. The young man paused when he saw the Cartwrights. Glancing over his back and then back at the three men who were dismounting, he walked slowly over to them, as if nothing was amiss. He knew that the men would not find the boy. He almost laughed out loud…they wouldn’t find Maggie either, he’d made sure of that.

“Howdy,” he greeted them.

“Howdy,” Ben answered. “Are you Luke’s son?”

“Sure am. What can I do for you?” he asked in a friendly manner.

Ben smiled. “I’m Ben Cartwright, and these are my sons, Adam and Hoss,” Ben explained.

“Howdy,” greeted Hoss. Adam nodded his head at the boy.

“Is you pa home?” Ben questioned. “I’d like to have a word with him.”

“Yes sir, he’s home, but he’s not feeling well right now. Maybe I can help you. I’ve been running the business for my Pa for some time now…since my ma died…pa’s not been…well, I figure you’ve heard the talk.”

Ben glanced at his sons and turned back to Heath. “Well…I’m sorry but…yes we’ve heard but I didn’t know how much truth there was to it.”

Heath grunted low. “Well, Mr. Cartwright, I can assure you, those rumors are all true…my pa’s turned into a drunk. He’s in bed now, passed out.”

“Um…” stammered Ben, unsure what he should say now.

“Maybe you’d like to speak with my sister?” suggested Heath.

“Actually I would…is she here?” Ben inquired.

“No.”

“No?” Adam asked, finally stepping over to stand next to his father. “What kind of an answer is that?”

“Adam,” Ben cautioned.

“An honest answer,” Heath explained. “She’s gone…with your boy…I saw them slipping away early this morning, just before dawn.”

“And you didn’t stop them…or ask them what on earth they were doing?” Adam stormed.

“Didn’t have to,” Heath explained.

“You’re not talking a lot of sense, son, could you explain yourself?” Ben said. He was beginning to lose patience with the young man.

“I been wondering how long it was gonna take you to come around. See, your boy, Little Joe, came to me the other day and asked if…he could…um…marry my little sister. I wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but the boy promised to take good care of her…and…well…since we ain’t gonna have the ranch much longer,” he paused and then continued, “the taxes haven’t been paid in two years and the bank’s gonna be taking it from us…so I thought, if I let Maggie marry Little Joe, at least I would know that she’d be well cared for. Me and Pa can get by with little to nothing, but girls…well…they need certain things, things that pa and I can’t give to her, you understand don’t you Mr. Cartwright?”

Ben swallowed hard. Had he heard correctly? Had this young man just admitted that he was alright with two fifteen year olds getting married? Did the man know why his son was so intent on marrying his sister?

“Did you by chance ask the kids…why they were in such a hurry to get married?” Ben asked in a quiet voice.

“Sure did, they’re gonna have a baby,” grinned Heath. “I got real mad when your boy told me. I even thought about killing him, but then Maggie would have never spoken to me again and then Joe started telling me about how rich you are and how much land and cattle you own, he told me about your timber and mine contracts and how he’d always have enough money to provide for my sister and her baby…so I gave them my blessings. From the look on your faces, I take it you didn’t know about the kid?”

Ben ignored the question. “Did Little Joe say where they were going?”

“Nope, didn’t ask either,” Heath said smugly.

“Let’s go Pa, we’ll find them, they couldn’t have gotten too far,” Adam said as he gave the Wilson youth a dark look. Something about the kid caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. He turned, catching Hoss’ eyes. An unspoken agreement passed between the two brothers. Both mounted up and waited for their father to do the same.

Once they were ready to ride, Heath turned and returned to the barn. “Fools,” he muttered to himself. He watched until the trio had gone and then went to the hidden door and opened it. Carefully he descended the stairs. At the bottom he paused long enough to light the lamp and then carrying it he went to the cell where he had imprisoned the Cartwright kid. Heath raised the lamp over his head to give more light to the room. Little Joe was just waking up.

Groggily with his head pounding, Little Joe sat up, shielding his eyes from the bright light. “Not feeling so sure of yourself now are you kid?” Heath asked.

“Where…am…I?” Joe asked as he struggled to his feet. He looked around at his surroundings. “What…is this…place?  Maggie…” Joe said suddenly as he staggered to the wooden door where he grasped a thick rail to balance. “Where’s Maggie?” he demanded.

Heath leaned against the bars that formed the door. “One question at a time kid. As to where you are, it’s your new home,” He saw the color drain from the boy’s face and could almost smell the fear that seeped from the kid’s pores. “And Maggie…well dear sweet Maggie. God how I loved that girl…” he glanced at the boy, Joe wasn’t looking too good.

“If you’ve hurt her again…”

Heath’s gruff laughter pierced Joe’s ears.  “What do you think you’re going to do? You will spend the rest of your life…or mine, right where you are. You will never see Maggie again…or your family…hahaha your pa was just here looking for you, but he’ll never find you,” laughed Heath.

Joe straightened up. “My pa was here?”

“Yep and your brothers, they were here too,” he taunted.

Joe forced his lips not to quiver. “Adam and Hoss?” he stammered.

“Yep.”

Joe swallowed back the bile that rose in the back of his mouth. “What happened to Maggie?” he dared to ask.

“Maggie?” Heath laughed. “She’s gone…her and our Pa. It’s just you and me kid…for now,” he leered.

The bile was back in Joe’s mouth. He turned just as the foul tasting stuff spewed from his mouth. Heath tossed his head back and roared with laughter. When Joe’s stomach stopped reacting, he wiped his mouth on the sleeve on his shirt. “What have you done with Maggie?”

“Let’s just say neither you nor I will ever have to worry about that little tramp again.  Ever,” he sneered.

Joe took a deep breath. His hands gripped the bars of his cage. “What does that mean?” he asked trying to steady his voice. “Tell me Heath…what have you done with her? I know she never would have left without me.”

Heath had walked away from the cell and stood in the doorway of the first door. The light behind him seemed so bright to Joe’s eyes that he could no longer see Heath’s features. Heath dipped the tin cup into the pail of water that sat on a nearby table and took a long drink, never taking his eyes off his prisoner.

“Dead,” he muttered. “There’s an old cistern out back. It’s empty or should I say was empty. Now it’s a grave…two actually.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Joe screamed.

“Dang kid, you’re not too bright are you? It means she’s dead, Pa’s dead…that bastard she was carrying is dead…all three of them are in the bottom of that cistern…any more questions?” Heath didn’t give Joe time to answer. He blew out the lamp, leaving the boy in the dark, walked out and shut the door behind him.

He stopped at the foot of the steps and listened to the young Cartwright screaming obscenities at him. The boy was hysterical which Heath thought rather funny. Laughing, he climbed the steps and once back in the barn, he closed the hidden door and kicked hay over the top so that no one would see it. He’d have to learn to cook his own meals from now on. He’d be moving on soon, once he got rid of the kid.

Heath made his way into the kitchen. The pot of stew he’d put on earlier was dried out, burnt causing the house to smell. “Dang it,” grumbled Heath as he picked up the pot. Walking to the door, he started to toss the remains out but stopped. He chuckled. “I’ll feed it to the kid,” he said to himself.

 

Adam motioned for Hoss and his pa to stop. “What’s wrong son?” Ben asked. Adam pushed back his hat. “I’ve been thinking Pa, about what the Wilson kid told us, about Joe bragging about how much money you have and the cattle and stuff. That’s not Joe, he doesn’t do that, never has. Something’s not right about all of this. Sure, Joe snuck out and that was wrong…but talking to that Wilson kid about marrying the girl?”

“You might just be on to something son. Joe told me that Maggie didn’t want her father to know, not until after she and Joe were married. He was adamant about it too. So…Wilson lied about that. Question is what else has he lied about?” Ben said looking from Hoss to Adam for their suggestions.

“I don’t rightly know Pa about that Heath fella. What I do know is that Joe’s in some sort of trouble, I can’t say how I know, I just do,” Hoss told Ben and Adam.

“Any ideas what we should do?” Ben asked each of his sons. “Do you think we should split up…I could ride to Reno, Hoss you can go to Genoa and Adam why don’t you go to Carson City?”

“That sounds good to me. We might find him quicker if we go in different directions. We can meet back here say in…three days, about this time.” He glanced up at the sun to judge the time. “I’d say it’s about noon,” Adam suggested. He watched the faces of his father and brother. They were considering the idea.

“Alright by me,” Hoss stated.

“Sounds good, Adam,” Ben confirmed his reply. “Three days from now…noon. If one of us finds him before then, send a wire to the local sheriff. We can each check before we leave town. You boys be careful…please if you find that boy, get word to me.”

They bid one another good-bye and rode off, each going in a different direction.

 

Joe had cried until he could no longer cry. His eyes had dried. They were red from wiping them. His stomach hurt, partly from hunger mostly from grief. He wanted his father. No longer did he think of himself as a man…no, he was just a kid, exactly like his brothers and father were always telling him. Joe would have gratefully fallen into his father’s arms had Ben been there to hold him. He was scared. He feared Heath and what the older teen could and probably would do to him. Joe figured if the fellow actually killed his own sister and unborn child, along with his own father, Joe feared his fate would be no different.

He had no idea where he was. It was too dark to see anything so he had walked blindly into the wall and had placed his hands on the cold stone moving around the tight confine until he was back at the door. The door had been fashioned from timber that Heath had at some time managed to haul into this place, where ever it was. He was cold too. He knew he was underground…suddenly it dawn on him. Heath had told him earlier that his father and brothers had been there…well…there must have been the Wilson homestead. And a day or so ago, when he had slipped into the barn, Maggie had mentioned a dungeon under the barn. That was it! He was in the so-called dungeon under the Wilson barn…and Heath had spoken of the cistern out back…A bit of hope sprang forth and filled Joe’s heart. Maybe, just maybe his father or one or the other of his brothers might get suspicious of Heath and come back looking for him. Joe wondered what it was that his jailer had told his family…lies most likely. Joe was interrupted from his musings by the squeaking of the door that separated his jail cell from the main room of the dungeon as he called it. He’d been sitting propped against the cold rock wall but got to his feet when the light from the lantern glowed from the opening.

“You awake kid?” Heath asked. “I got ya some supper…just a bit burnt, but it’ll keep you from starving,” he said with a smirk. “Back up now…way back. If you try anything stupid, I got chains that’ll keep you nice and tight and close to that wall. I’ll use’em if you force me too.”

Joe gulped. It was bad enough being caged like an animal, let alone chained in the same cage. He did as Heath had said and backed all the way up until he could feel the cold hard rock pressing into this back.

Heath unlocked the lock and pulled open the door. Carefully and without taking his eyes off his prisoner, Heath set the pot of burned stew on the ground along with the tin cup of water he had dipped for his captive. Once he had finished, he walked backwards through the railed door and replaced the lock. He stood for a minute waiting to see what Joe would do. When Joe failed to move away from the wall, Heath gave him the okay.

“You can eat now kid,” he instructed Joe. Again, he waited. He wanted to watch the boy’s reaction to his burnt supper. Joe walked slowly over to the pot and picked it up, along with the cup of water. He took a sip of the water first. It wasn’t cold, not even close to it but it refreshed his mouth. When he looked into the pot and saw no fork or spoon, he raised his head and looked over at Heath.

“There’s no fork…or spoon,” he said.

“Of course not stupid, what do you take me for, a fool? I can’t trust you with a fork, and only babies eat with a spoon. Use your fingers, it won’t kill you,” Heath snickered.

Had he not been so ravenously hungry, Joe would have tossed the pot back in Heath’s face. But he knew he needed nourishment if he were to ever get out of this place. Setting the cup aside, Joe glanced at Heath who leaned against the doorframe and watched. He used his two fingers in a scoop like manner and dipped them into the pot. The food in the bottom was hard and course and when he pulled the first bite from the pot, Joe could tell that the food had been scorched. Angrily, he flung the food off his fingers and turned on his jailer.

“This isn’t fit for pig slop,” he growled.

“Too bad kid, it’s all you’re going to get.” Heath laughed loudly. “Hey kid…save some for you breakfast, cause if it ain’t gone, you ain’t getting nothing else until that pot is cleaned out.”

Joe wrinkled his nose. He took the cup and finished drinking what little water was left. Then he walked to the bars of his cell and flung the foul smelling food at Heath. “You eat it, you’re the pig,” shouted Joe.

The food flew through the bars and onto the front of his jailer’s shirt. Joe laughed at the expression on Heath’s face. Heath’s eyes grew wide in both horror at what Joe had done to him and with anger at the boy for having the gull to do such a thing. He wiped the slop from the front of his shirt and dug the key to the lock from his pocket.

“You’ll regret ever doing that,” snarled Heath. He stopped long enough to pick up the riding crop that had been hanging on a peg on the wall. “Back up!” shouted Heath. Joe need not be told twice. He knew what was about to happen. As Heath fumbled with the lock, Joe glanced around looking for a means of escape. It was too dark to see much, the glow from the light cast strange looking shadows around the cell enclosure.

Heath stepped into the cell and pulled the door closed. He didn’t bother to lock it back, the beating he was about to render would put a stop to the boy’s thought of escape. And the chains he would secure the boy with would hold the lad in place until death claimed his soul.

Joe tried to dart back and forth in an attempt to avoid being hit with the long laced crop. His movements were sluggish, having not eaten for hours and from the blow to the side of his face when his captor had hit him. Each time that Heath raised the whip, Joe felt the sting. Time and time again Heath hit him until at last Joe dropped to his knees. He could feel the blood oozing down his back and arms. And the pain was unbearable. When he went down, Heath jumped on him, knocking him down on his back. Large knuckled fists pounded his face, his stomach, his mid-section. Joe tried to fight back but he was no match for the larger more powerful boy. At last the beating ceased. Joe felt his body being dragged into the very back of his cell. The rattle of chains sent razors of fear coursing through his body; and when the feel of cold, hard metal pressed into the tender flesh of his neck and then around his wrists the frightened boy almost panicked. His senses were dulled from the beating, but the message was clear, he was chained as if he were nothing more than a vicious animal. The chain about his neck was attached at the other end to a metal ring that had been hammered inches into the hard stone wall. The chain around his wrists ran upward and attached to a small ring in the neck collar. Any movement or use of his hands and arms were now very limited.

When Heath had finished with his prisoner, he stood up and glared down at Joe. “That should hold you. It shouldn’t take more than two maybe three days for you to die, rotting will take much longer. But don’t worry; once I leave this ranch for good, in about three days, I plan on blowing this cave to kingdom come.” He laughed and backed out of the cell, locking the door behind him. He hung the oversized key on the peg just outside the door he had just closed.

“See you kid.” Heath called loud enough for the boy to hear him. It was the last words that Joe would ever hear Heath say.

Scared beyond reason, Joe fought against his restraints until he was totally exhausted. Spent, he lay down on the damp stony ground, curled himself into a ball and cried himself to sleep.

 

Hoss rode into Genoa late that same afternoon and went straight to the first church he saw. As he entered the chapel, a minister met him halfway down the aisle. “Good after noon son, how might I help you? Are you in need of guidance?” the minister quizzed.

“Howdy sir,” greeted Hoss. “No sir…I don’t need no guiding. But I am looking for someone who might have stopped by,” he explained.

“Well then, why don’t we sit down and tell me who you are looking for?” the minister responded as he pointed to the pew in the middle of the small chapel. Once they were seated, he turned to Hoss. “Now, son…who is this person you are seeking, is it the Lord?”

Hoss stammered… “Um…no sir…I know the Lord…”

“Praise the Lord!” interrupted the minister. “I’m sorry son, please continue.”

Hoss cleared his throat and started over. “I’m looking for my little brother. His name is Joe Cartwright but we call him Little Joe. Anyway Little Joe is fifteen years old, so is his gal friend. Well, Joe got it into his head that he wanted to marry Maggie…that’s his gal friend.  They went missing early this morning and well…we…my pa and brother Adam…we started looking for them, but ain’t found them. So we split up. I came here. We were thinking maybe they ran away to get married…”

“My, my…just fifteen years old you say?” The minister said shaking his head. “Well, they haven’t stopped here. I certainly would remember them being as how young they are. No…no, I’m sorry Mr. Cartwright, but I can’t help you.”

Hoss stood up and so did the minister. The minister moved out of the pew so that Hoss could do the same. “I sure enough thank you sir for your time. Do you know if there are any more churches around town where I might check?”

“Oh yes, the Baptist church is at the other end of Main Street. Just ride all the way through town and you’ll be there,” smiled the minister.

The pair walked to the door together. “Thank you. I appreciate your help. If the boy happens to come in, could you send a wire to the sheriff in Virginia City? His name is Roy Coffee,” asked Hoss.

“I will…Can I give you a small piece of advice?”

“Sure,” answered Hoss.

“On your way out of town, stop at the courthouse and speak with the justice of the peace. Maybe the boy and his girl decided not to get married in a church. The quickest way to get hitched is by the justice of the peace.”

“Wow…I never thought of that. I’ll stop by the courthouse and see if maybe Little Joe’s been there. Thank you again, sir.” Hoss extended his hand. The men shook hands. “God’s speed my son.”

Hoss tipped his hat to the minister and walked off down the street leading his horse. After two more stops and no results, Hoss decided that he’d ride over to Reno and meet up with his father. Reno, he knew boasted more churches so it might take the two of them to speak with each minister and possibly a priest or two. And he’d be sure to tell Ben to check with the justice of the peace there in Reno.

 

Little Joe woke with a start. He’d been dreaming of Maggie and in the dream they were running away from something, or someone. Maggie was tiring. Her body so out of shape because of pregnancy was slowing the young couple down. Joe held Maggie’s hand, leading and guiding the two of them through a maze of vines and bushes, desperately trying to get away from whatever was chasing them. When at last they stepped from the bushes, there, standing in front of them was Maggie’s brother, Heath. His face was distorted and ugly. He screamed obscenities at them. Maggie was screaming and crying…Joe stood between the girl and her brother but Heath pushed him out of the way and grabbed his sister. Joe struggled to his feet and made a grab for the young girl. A tug of war with Maggie as the prize followed. Heath, being much larger and stronger than Joe, managed to pull the girl from Joe’s grip but before Joe could make a second attempt to free Maggie, Heath picked the girl up in his arms and tossed her down…down into the dark hole. Joe could hear the girl’s piteous screams as she tumbled head over heels into the gloomy vastness of the old cistern. Joe, in his dream, ran to the hole but was too late to save his beloved. Heath’s wicked, evil laughter rang piercingly in his ears, causing his head to throb with intense pain.  “No…NO…NO…” screamed Joe vociferously…..and abruptly his eyes opened wide. He lay where he was, staring up at the dark nothingness of his prison cell, trying desperately to breathe in deep gulps of air to fill his aching lungs. Bulky beads of moisture dotted his brow. His battered body shivered; his hands shook profusely. When he reached up to wipe the salty moisture from his eyes, the chains rattled, sending a fresh wave of panic sprinting through his body.

“Pa…oh Pa…please…I need you…Maggie…Maggie, where are you?” Nothing made sense. It was as if he were in a haze so impenetrable, he could not tell what was factual or what was not.  Sweating and shivering at the same time, Joe pushed his body into an upright position. Every muscle he had ached. The welts on his back had a stinging sensation and it hurt to move.

Without warning, the boy’s stomach rumbled. He was hungry. It had been almost two days since he’d eaten. His mouth was dry making it hard to swallow and he craved water. Joe laid his head back resting against the hard rock and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep, but the fear in his heart warned him to remain alert. For half an hour, the battered youth struggled to stay awake, but his weariness eventually overtook him and quietly Joe faded away in the immensity of oblivion.

 

“I thank you sir,” Adam Cartwright said as he shook hands with Judge Brown. “If my brother should happen in…”

“Of course Adam, I’ll send word immediately to your father. You know, Ben and I are old friends; we go back a long way. Try not to worry, as I’ve already told you, the justices of the peace, the judges such as myself and even a minister are not likely to marry a couple as young as your brother and his girl without asking a lot of questions first. Perhaps they are just hiding somewhere, giving your father a chance to rethink his decision about allowing the boy to marry. You know, worrying his pa a bit,” smiled the judge.

“Perhaps, but I honestly don’t think so, not this time,” Adam said. “Thank you again Judge. I’ll tell my father you said hello.”

“You do that son. Good luck, I hope you find your brother soon. Let me know if I can do anything more.” Judge Brown watched as Adam mounted up and rode away. “Um, um, if I ever caught my son pulling a stunt like that…I’d lock him away somewhere until he became of age,” muttered the judge as he turned and walked back to his office. “Um, um…you got your hands full this time Benjamin!”

Judge Brown’s office had been Adam’s last hope. He’d talked to every minister and priest in town and not one had seen Joe and Maggie. Adam had been told by the judge that a marriage could not even be considered legal without a license and that would have to come through the county clerk’s office. He had gone with the judge to check the records but to Adam’s dismay, or perhaps his relief, there had been no document to show that Joe and Maggie had applied.

Having finished his business in Carson City, Adam decided to go to Reno in hopes of meeting up with his father. He had sent Ben the requested wire he’d asked for, letting his father know that Joe had not been to Carson City and that he, Adam, would meet him in Reno by the following afternoon. Turning Sport in the direction of Reno, Adam urged his mount into a more rapid pace anxious to know if his father or Hoss might have had better luck.

It was late afternoon when Adam crested the hills near Reno. He pulled his mount to a stop in order to rest before continuing on. As he capped his canteen, he noted a cloud of dust on the horizon and watched as the cloud moved closer and closer. He smiled when he saw the small band of mustangs running across the open fields below. He’d always admired the wild ones and had often, in the past enjoying catching and breaking the animals. He watched for several minutes as the small band moved off into the distance. Adjusting his hat, he urged Sport forward. He was surprised to see that at the tail end of the band of mustangs, a lone pinto followed slowly behind. Adam stopped again, shading his eyes from the bright son. Something about the horse drew his attention. The mustang seemed disinterested in the herd. As Adam moved closer, his eyes widened in surprise and his heart rate increased.

“Surely not!” he said aloud. He spurred his mount into a full run all the while pulling his rope loose and making a loop. Adam pushed his horse faster as the pinto began taking the lead. For several long minutes Adam chased after the other horse until he was within range enough that he tossed the lasso. He missed, cursing silently to himself. Quickly he pulled in his rope and tried again. This time the noose slipped easily over the pinto’s head. Adam jerked Sport to a stop. The pinto ran as far as he could until he reached the end of the rope and then just as quickly he stopped. Adam looped his end of the rope around the pummel on his saddle and dismounted. The pinto, his eyes large, his ears laid back stood stark still and cautiously watched the man calmly approaching him. “Easy there boy,” Adam cooed in a low voice. Are you who I think you are?” Having kept his hands on the rope, Adam eased himself over to the pinto and reached out his opened hand. The horse snorted, pulled back slightly and then as if the scent of the man was something he was accustomed to, put his nose into Adam’s hand. “Well I’ll be,” Adam muttered. “Cochise…I thought it was you,” he exclaimed as he began checking the horse over. “How on earth did you manage to get mixed up with that crowd?” Adam whispered, referring to the band of wild mustangs. “I sure wish you could talk…you’d tell me where my little brother is, wouldn’t you?” Adam petted the horse’s neck and then led Cochise over to Sport, whom he mounted.

A knew kind of fear had planted its self, deep within the walls of his heart. Little Joe had not only run away to be married, but had somehow and at some point been separated from his horse. Alarm for the boy’s welfare and also for the young pregnant girl was festering quickly. ‘I need to get to Pa,’ Adam told himself. He spurred his mounted and with Cochise following, rode hard towards Reno.

 

He was cold. His body trembled as Little Joe tried to open his eyes. The gnawing pain in his stomach was almost too unbearable for the youth. How long had he been out…where was he…why hadn’t his father come for him…Maggie…Maggie…where was she? Suddenly Joe’s eyelids fluttered open. The cisterns…cistern…dear God…Pa please, hurry…I…need you…Adam, Hoss…help me! Using his hands, he reached up and pulled and yanked on the chain attached to the ring deep within the rocks. “I gotta get…out…of here…”he screamed aloud. “Pa…PA…oh Pa…why won’t…you help…me?” Joe said as he collapsed to his knees. Crying, he leaned his feverish forehead against the cool stones. “I’m sorry Maggie…”he sobbed, “so, so sorry…I didn’t…mean…to lie to you…when I promised…not to…let anyone…ever hurt…you again!”

 

Ben and Hoss, whom he had met up with the night before, were just leaving the last church in Reno when Ben happened to see his oldest son leading a pinto into the town’s livery stable. “Isn’t that Adam?” he asked Hoss.

Hoss squinted his eyes against the bright rays of the sun. “Sure ‘nough looks like’em…and ain’t that Joe’s pony he’s got with’em?”

Ben had already started making his way down the boarded walk. “I believe you’re right, son. Come on let’s find out what’s going on.”

Adam almost collided with his father as he was exiting the barn and Ben was entering. “Adam…” “Pa…” they both chirped at the same time.

“I saw you ride in with Joe’s horse. That is Cochise isn’t it?” Ben asked as the three men moved out of the doorway.”

“Yes sir. I found him running with a band of Mustangs this side of Carson City. I couldn’t believe it was him until I roped him,” Adam explained.

“No sign of your brother?”

Adam shook his head. “None…Pa…Joe would have never run off…for any reason, without his horse. And there’s nothing wrong with Cochise, so Joe wouldn’t have any reason to turn him loose.”

“You’re right son. Did you find the sorrel he took for Maggie?”

“No, I didn’t spot her in the herd…but then I wasn’t looking for horses either. I wouldn’t have seen Joe’s horse if it hadn’t been lagging behind…just following the herd, that’s all Cooch was doing. Like he was lost or something…you know…wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.”

“Pa, the other day that Wilson kid said he watched Joe and Maggie ride away. Suppose he was lying? We pretty well know he lied about Joe bragging…what if….”

“Hoss, you might be on to something,” Adam grinned at his brother. “Pa, I think we should ride back to the Wilson place and have ourselves another little chat with that boy. What do you think?”

Ben nodded his head in agreement. “First light…right now I’m tired, I need a bath and I’m hungry and I know the two of you are as well. It’s almost dark now. I think we should clean up, get something to eat and get a good night’s rest and in the morning we’ll pay Heath Wilson another visit.”

 

The black billowing smoke could be seen for miles. It didn’t go un-noticed by the Cartwrights either. “Looks like it’s coming from the Wilson place,” stated Adam. “Let’s ride,” shouted Ben as he pressed his knees into his mount’s sides.

When the trio rode into the yard the first thing they saw was the house fully engulfed. Heath was standing in the yard howling. Or so Ben thought until he ran over to the young man. Heath was howling with laughter. “Heath…HEATH,” shouted Ben as he took the boy by his shoulders and shook him hard. “What in tarnation is wrong with you?”

Behind him Hoss and Adam were running with buckets of water in a vain effort to put out the flames. Heath looked at Ben, still laughing. “Nothing’s left…nothing for the bank to take,” he roared.  He jerked away from Ben and ran towards the house. Before Ben could stop the boy, Heath picked up the oil can and began pouring a trail of the flammable liquid from the house to the barn and then tossed the can into the barn. Almost instantly the flames sizzled across the yard and burst into hot flames.

“Adam, Hoss,” screamed Ben. “Forget the house…get the barn,” he shouted as he ran after Heath and tried to restrain the crazed man. Heath fought against Ben’s efforts until Ben had no other choice than the punch the man. Heath fell backwards onto the ground still laughing hysterically. Ben turned away to help his sons when Heath’s words stopped him in his tracks.

“Never…you’ll never save him…he’s as good as dead!” Heath roared. Ben ran back and dropped to the ground. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

Heath stopped laughing. His features became distorted as he sneered at Ben. “That brat of yours…he thought he was gonna take my sister away and marry her…he thought he was gonna be daddy to MY BABY!” screamed Heath as he reached up and grabbed Ben, pulling him down on the ground where he began to pound Ben with his fists. “My baby…not his…now he’ll pay…I’ll kill him just like I killed her…and pa…they will all be dead,” Heath bellowed. “That dungeon will fill with…smoke in a matter of minutes and then…he’ll suffocate!”

When Heath drew back his balled up fist to strike again, Hoss grabbed the boy’s arm and twisted it backward. Heath roared as the bone snapped. Hoss shoved the yelling teen off his father and helped Ben to his feet. Ben quickly wiped the blood from his bleeding nose and leaned down, grabbing Heath by the front of his shirt and yanking him to his feet.

“Where is my son…what is this dungeon you’re talking about?” he stormed.

Heath favored his broken arm with his good arm. “Go to hell…”

Hoss spun Heath around to face him, “My pa asked you a question…answer him now or I’ll break your other arm,” he demanded glancing from Heath to his father.

“I’m not tellin’ him anything,”

Hoss grabbed Heath’s good arm and twisted it savagely behind the man’s back. Heath howled in pain.

“Okay, okay…in the barn…last stall, there’s a trap door…”

Hoss released Heath’s arm and along with his father, the pair ran to the barn. Smoke filled the air, thick and hot as the flames overtook the hay stored within the walls.  Ben did not hesitate, “Stay here,” he ordered his two sons who continued to fight the fire. Ben glanced over his shoulder just as Heath mounted his horse and rode away.

As he entered the dark, smoke filled barn, Ben covered his face with his neckerchief and using his hands to feel his way, made it to the back of the barn and the last stall. He dropped to his knees and brushed aside the hay from the ground. The fire had not yet reached the back of the barn but Ben knew he had only minutes to find his son and get out. Frantically he pawed the ground until he found the latch on the hidden door. With a yank, Ben pulled the door opened, letting it drop backwards onto the floor. The heat from the fire behind him caused beads of perspiration to trickle down his back. Quickly he descended the stairs. The air in the hollowed out room was cooler and had yet to fill with smoke. Almost instantly, Ben found the first door and pushed against it. It opened easily. Just inside, Ben found the table and felt for the lamp and found it. But the matches were nowhere to be found. Ben dug in his pockets until he found the small box he carried with him. Hurrying, he struck the tiny stick to the heel of his boot and when the little flame lit, he turned it to the wick. A small light glowed from the lamp. He turned, holding the lamp over his head so that the light would spread its luminosity glow wider. “Joe?” he called. “Joseph…son…?”

Ben tried not to panic as he searched the small space for his missing son. “JOSEPH…YOU HAVE TO ANSWER ME…WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!” shouted the worried father. He listened for any sound or movement but heard nothing but crackling of the fire above him. ‘Dear God,’ Ben whispered.

“Pa?”

Ben barely heard the weak plea. “Little Joe?” He moved towards the spot where he believed the sound came from. When he saw the oversized wooden door, his heart fell. The lock that sealed the door shut was too thick for Ben to break. Frantically, he searched for a key but found nothing. “Joe…I need a key,” Ben called out. There was no answer. “Dang,” swore Ben as he spun around still holding the lamp high so the glow would widen. He spotted the ring hanging on a peg near the first door and ran to grab them. When he returned to the cell door, he set the lamp down and tried the first key, it was too small. The second key turned the lock and unlatched the ring. Ben pushed back on the heavy door and stooped to grab the lamp again. He found his son lying on the ground, curled into a tight ball.

“Joe,” he sobbed as he rushed to his son’s side. “Dear God,” he muttered when he saw the iron neck cuff and the shackles about Joe’s wrists. He swiped the key ring from the ground where he’d tossed them, not expecting to find his son locked in chains. The smaller key fit the locks as Ben swiftly but carefully removed them. He knew that Joe was not conscious and that he didn’t have time to see how badly the boy might have been hurt, he simply swept the lad into his arms and ran for the stairs. The fire and smoke had all but consumed the barn. The path to the front was blocked by fallen timber, the fire was hot and the blacken smoke threatened to smother both father and son. Ben hesitated, looking around for an escape.

“Board…back,” muttered Joe.

“What?”

“There,” Joe murmured and pointed to the deepest part of the barn. “Missing…board…out,” he uttered as Ben felt the boy’s body go slack in his arms. Coughing, Ben carried his son to the back of the barn and instantly spied the missing board that would provide the means by which they could escape. Ben had to squat down in order for both him and his bundle to fit through the opening. Once outside, he carried Joe as far away from the fire as he could. Barely able to walk, he managed to make it to the front before he fell to his knees, weak and shakily he laid Joe on the ground.

Adam and Hoss had given up putting out the fire. When they spied their father lying on the ground both raced to his side. “Pa,” Adam said as he took the coughing and gagging man into his arms. “Get some water,” he ordered Hoss who rush to do his brother’s bidding.

Hoss handed Adam the water. When he saw Joe lying a short distance from his father, he stepped over Ben’s body and hurried to his little brother’s side. “Joe…punkin, are ya alright?” he groaned. Joe seemed lifeless, barely breathing as Hoss scooped the lad into his strong arms. He turned to Adam who had helped Ben to his feet. “He needs a doc, Pa,” stated Hoss worried for the boy.

“Let’s get them out of here,” Adam said. “The house and barn are a total lost,” he stated as he allowed Ben to lean heavily on to him. Ben glanced up at the ruins behind him. “Adam is…right. Town…get Joe into…town,” he said in between bouts of coughing.

 

Hours later, all three of the oldest Cartwrights sat outside the room where the doctor was tending to the youngest member of the family. Ben had been treated for his dry hacking cough and had even slept for a couple of hours after the doctor had administered medication to ease his suffering. When he had awakened, he had demanded to see his youngest son and through he thought Ben should stay in the bed, Paul Martin, log- time friend and family physician had given in to Ben’s requests.

Now the kind doctor stood in front of the worried men to explain to them the condition of his patient. “Ben, I won’t lie to you, Little Joe’s in pretty bad shape. He has a fever…too high for my liking. He’s been beaten, whipped and looks to have missed too many meals. He’s dehydrated and has a couple of busted ribs. I’ve cleaned his wounds and bandaged those that needed it. I’ve tried to get him to drink something, which he did succeed. I’ve bound his ribs, stitched the cut over his right eye and given him something for the pain that will keep him sleeping for several hours. Right now, he’s awake so if you want to talk to him; do it now; in five minutes he’s liable to be sleeping.”

Paul stepped aside to allow Ben to go inside. The room was dimly lit but Ben could see the still form of his son lying on the bed. With his heart in his throat, he pulled the chair close to the bedside and sat down. Adam moved to the other side and stood next to Hoss.

“Little Joe,” Ben said softly in a voice that sounded hoarse. “Pa’s here son…so are your brothers,” he cooed. “Can you open your eyes for just a moment?”

Joe’s eyelids fluttered until he finally was able to open his eyes. “Pa,” he muttered in a weak voice.

“Yes, son, I’m here.”

Joe held his hand out, searching for his father’s hand. Ben took the smaller hand in his and gently caressed it with his thumb. With his free hand, he wove his fingers through the thick chestnut curls.

“Maggie…she’s…” the frail boy uttered. “Cistern…”

Ben’s brow creased together as he glanced up at Adam and Hoss. Hoss hunched his shoulders in an unspoken question to the word. “What’s he meanin’?” he whispered to Adam.

“Beats me.”

“Joseph, son, what are you trying to tell me?” Ben leaned closer to better hear his son’s soft words.

“Cis…tren…” Tears had filled Joe’s eyes and began to slowly creep from the corner of his blackened eyes and down the bruised and swollen cheeks.

“Ben used his thumbs and wiped away the tiny beads of moisture. “I don’t understand,” he told the boy. “Joe…” But Little Joe had succumbed to the heavy medication and had closed his eyes.

Ben stood up, still clinging to the boy’s hand. He looked over at Adam and Hoss. “We’ll have to wait until he wakes up to find out what he’s trying to tell us.”

“What do you want us to do? I talked to Roy about what the Wilson boy was doing and what he said to you…”

Ben’s head suddenly snapped up, his eye widened. “Let’s allow Joe to rest. I’ll sit with him for a while, but first, let’s talk,” he said as he nodded toward the door, “in the other room.”

Ben placed Joe’s arms under the blankets and covered him up to his chin, tucking the blankets lightly about the sleeping boy.

“What’s on your mind, Pa?” questioned Adam.

“Sit down,” ordered Ben and waited until both Adam and Hoss had sat down. “Heath was half out of his mind…but what he said I feel he knew what he was saying. I mean…what he said must have been so. He said Joe wanted to marry Maggie because she was going to have a baby…but then in the next sentence he claimed that the baby was his and not Little Joe’s…and that Joe was attempting to take Maggie and the baby away from him.” He paused to check his sons’ reaction. Adam stood up and began to pace the floor. Hoss watched Adam walk to and fro in the tiny room.

Adam turned and stood in front of his father. He glanced at Hoss and then back at Ben. “Heath killed his sister because she was trying to leave with Little Joe…and he killed his father as well…why I can’t figure just yet. He burned the house and barn to keep the bank from taking it back and he wanted Joe dead because he believed Joe…wanted the baby for his own? It doesn’t make sense…I thought…ere I mean, we thought that Joe was the father, so why would Heath claim the baby as his?”

Now Ben stood up. He walked to the window and looked out. When he turned back around his face was grave. “Because the baby was his and not Joe’s,” he stated.

“Heh?” said Hoss.

“I think the Wilson boy was the father of that baby…and Joe was just…”

“But that little gal was Wilson’s sister…” stammered Hoss.

Adam swallowed hard and pinched his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Dear Lord, it makes sense now. Hoss…he…raped his own sister. When Joe found out about the rape and about Maggie going to have a baby, he decided to marry her to…I suppose save her reputation. Stupid, but knowing Joe, possibly his way of thinking. When the brother found out that Maggie was leaving with Joe, he stopped them. Joe put up a fight, Wilson got the better of him, tossed him into that dungeon and then when Maggie resisted, he killed her. Whether or not it was an accident or intended, I can’t say…we won’t know until we can talk to Joe.”

“Dadburnit,” stammered Hoss as he scratched his head. “But why kill his father, if’n he did?”

“I can’t figure that, Hoss,” Adam explained.

“Alright then, if what you say is right…where did he hide the girl’s body? We know why he burned the house and barn,” declared Ben.

“Maybe the girl’s body was in the house when he burned it…or the barn…Joe was in the barn,” Hoss suggested.

“True…but there was no one other than your brother in that hell hole,” Ben corrected. He peered out the window and watched as a little boy and girl played in the water trough across the street. The father came out of the mercantile just then, gently scolding the youngsters. “Come on, we need to get this butter home and put it in the cistern before your ma has our hides,” he laughed.

“That’s it!” Ben practically shouted. “Adam, Hoss, I want the two of you to ride back out to the Wilson place. Take Roy Coffee with you…I have an idea you will find the girl and possibly the father…at the bottom of their well…or cistern……”

“Cistern? Ain’t that what Joe was trying to say?” Hoss asked.

“Well, I’ll be,” muttered Adam. “I think you’re on to something, Pa. Let’s go Hoss. We’ll be back as soon as possible,” he told his father as he donned his hat and reached for the door.

 

Ben had been dozing when Joe’s soft moaning woke him. He rose up from the chair where he’d been napping and leaned down over his son. “Joseph, can you wake up now?”

Joe moved his head slowly from side to side. “Joseph,” whispered Ben. He brushed back a stray lock of hair from Joe’s forehead.

“Pa?” Joe said softly.

“I’m here son. How do you feel?”

“Hurts…”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” offered Ben as he sat down on the side of the bed and took Joe’s hand into his.

“No…I’m sorry, Pa,” muttered Little Joe. Tears gathered in the boy’s eyes and when he blinked, they rolled silently down the sides of his face.

“Joe, you have nothing to be sorry for…”

“Yes,” he said in a stronger voice. “Maggie…I…lied…to her. And you…I lied, Pa…I’m sorry…but there was no…other way,” wept the pitiful young man.

“Son…it’s alright. I understand why you lied to me…it was wrong, but it’s all going to be fine.”

“The…baby,” wept Joe, “it wasn’t mine…honest pa…Maggie and me…we never…you know.”

Ben swallowed the knot in his throat. “I know son.”

“Heath…he…he…raped her…not her fault…”

“I know…”

“He…killed…her and her…baby,” wept Little Joe. Ben gathered the weeping boy into his arms and held him against his chest. “Shh…” he cooed.

“I…make her…a promise…I wouldn’t…ever let…anyone…hurt her again…”sobbed Joe. “I…didn’t…keep my…promise, Pa…she died…thinking…I lied to…her.”

“No, no, son, she knew you did everything in your power to protect her. She knew better, son, I honestly believe that and so should you,” Ben stressed.

Gently he laid Joe back against the pillows. He kept his hands on Joe’s shoulders, gently kneading. He could feel the tension in his son’s muscles. He began gently to tell the boy of the bad news. “Son, we found Maggie’s body, and her father’s. They were in the bottom of the dried out cistern, just as you tried to tell us.”

“Oh, God…Pa…no…I was hoping, it wasn’t true…”sobbed Little Joe. Ben gathered the weeping boy into his arms a second time, hugging him tightly as he continued.

“Heath burned the house and barn. We tried to stop him but he was like a crazy man. When we realized you were in that hole in the ground, we stopped trying to reason with him and went looking for you. Heath got away before we were able to stop him…”

“The bastard,” uttered Joe. He looked up at his father and saw the deep frown on his face. “I’m sorry. But I hate him for what he did to Maggie…and to me.”

“He’s dead, son,” Ben stated firmly as he lowered Joe back into the soft folds of the bedding.

“What?”

“Roy Coffee and his men went looking for him. They found him on the road to Genoa. His horse had thrown him. The fall must have broken his neck…”

“Good…he doesn’t deserve to live.”

“Joseph, son, please listen to me. No, don’t say anything until I’ve finished.” Ben held his hand up to hush his son.

Joe pressed his head deeper against the pillows and looked up at his father.

“You can live the rest of your life hating the man for what he’s done to Maggie, to his own father and to you for that matter. But will that hate bring her back…or her unborn child? No…the only thing hate can do for you is to make your life miserable. It will eat away at the love and kindness in your heart. It will claim all your joy and happiness that life offers…and in the end, it will destroy you. You will become an old, unhappy, miserable form of a man. Do you think someone as sweet, kind and gentle as Maggie would want you to grow into the type of person her brother had become? He not only destroyed his entire family but himself as well.

Don’t you think that she would want more for you…expect more from you? You nearly died trying to save her; you were her hero….her knight in shining armor. She will forever more be smiling down from heaven at you. Joe…as young as she was…as abused as she had been, she clung to the belief that not all young men were like her brother. That there was still young men on this earth that were good and kind and brave. She found that special young man in you.”

Ben moved back to the chair. Joe’s tears had stopped. When he looked into his father’s eyes, he saw nothing but love and truth smiling back at him.

“Do you really believe that, Pa?” Joe asked quietly.

“Have I ever lied to you son?” smiled Ben.

“No sir, reckon not,” Joe returned the smile.

“Then believe it this time too.” Ben stood up, leaned over and placed a kiss on his son’s forehead. He smiled, turned and walked out of the room, leaving Joe alone with his thoughts.

Joe closed his eyes trying to recall the lovely young face, the sweet voice of the beautiful young girl who had meant the world to him. Tears misted in his eyes when they opened. For several moments he stared at the ceiling above his bed. Joe took a deep breath. A feeling of calm seeped into his heart giving him a measure of peace from his turmoil. At last he spoke aloud, the words he hoped Maggie would hear and keep in her heart through all eternity.

“I’m sorry Maggie, honest, but…thanks for knowing how hard I tried. I’ll promise you this, I won’t allow hate to twist me into the kind of man your brother had become…I…give you my word on that much…and remember, you will always be my beautiful, sweet Mag Pie.”

It took months for Joe to make good his promise to Maggie, but as time inched forward, Joe’s hatred for the man who had destroyed so much and taken someone so beautiful from his life, slowly began to fade. He never forgot the lovely young woman who almost, but not quite became Mrs. Joseph Francis Cartwright.

The End

November 2014