FALSE WITNESS
By Jules
Remembering
Heavy gray clouds overhead promised more snow before the end of the day. The temperature had dropped noticeably since starting out from Virginia City. Despite the ominous forecast, the return journey was at slow pace as the horse team was guided through the increasing snow drifts that hugged the narrow trail. For now, visibility ahead was still fairly good, but no doubt in a few hours the good light would be begin to fade.
The wagon continued to meander along under the watchful look of the driver back towards the Ponderosa. The bottom of the buckboard had been lined in mattresses to stop the rising cold from the ground penetrating through the timber floor boards and kept the meager amount of heat within the folds of the blankets that covered the occupants.
This arduous journey back home could have waited a few more days, even a week. Lord know there were enough offers of accommodation in Virginia City if they had all thought staying was the best course of action. The local hotel and a number of other establishments would certainly been glad to offer him and his boys any rooms that were deemed necessary.
Paul Martin would have quickly agreed that undisturbed rest and his family's support were the best methods to begin Joe's long recovery period. Deep down inside, watching his son throughout the past few awful months, he knew in his heart that the healing, in all its forms, needed to start at home.
Ben Cartwright turned his face away from the cold biting breeze, reaching out and pulling the collar of his jacket more tightly around his neck and praying that they could make it home before the temperature dropped too much more. He shuffled slightly to one side, mindful of not disturbing the nest of warmth too much before looking down and keeping his attention firmly fixed on the figure lying beside him.
The gentle fingers of a hand carded through the dark loose soft curls, not wanting to wake his fifteen-year old son, a practice used since his younger years that had brought comfort to Joseph when he was sick or injured or a soothing sensation when on the cusp of relaxing deep sleep. Ben continued to caress the boy's forehead and temple, but his son didn't respond to his touch. It was like a brick wall had been built between them, and it was getting harder and harder to reach in and find the real Little Joe.
A gesture seldom shared now unless it was just the two of them and Ben had no doubt if Joe was awake and a little more alert, he would be openly protesting that he was older now and didn’t need to be treated like a baby. The passage of changing seasons had turned into years as his sons grew, but what Joseph didn’t know was that his father still needed that tactile sensation with him, despite desperately needing to rest.
Picking at the corner of the very top blanket, Ben tugged on the woolen covering, tucking the edges in around Joe's slim shoulders, and frowning at little at the slight tremors he could feel even through the many layers of fabric. The back of a hand placed against a pale cheek gave a little relief with the natural warmth that he felt. Paul had given the whole family a list of different symptoms to look out for.
Forty-eight hours earlier had seen Joe still in the grip of fevered confusion and constant pain. Brief moments of restlessness had been noticed since the horses took their first steps, with a muttered word or a grunt of discomfort escaping his lips, before he was lost in the folds of sleep once more.
The sleep was not a natural one, however. Paul had prescribed laudanum since mending the wound, but had lowered the dosage this morning so that the risk of the medication building up in his system was significantly reduced. Sleeping powders and other milder pain relievers were suggested until tomorrow afternoon when the doctor would visit at the Ponderosa and make another assessment of Joe's pain levels.
Physical pain and discomfort from the injuries he had sustained was one thing, but what about the emotional and other scars left behind that were much harder to detect or treat. What about them, Ben asked himself. How long would they take to heal? Would they ever fully heal? Would his young son ever recover from the torment that he had suffered at the hands of Butch Thomas over the last few months?
Butch Thomas, the name left such a bad after taste in his mouth. He could not honestly say if someone asked him right at this moment how he feel or what would he do if he was standing face to face with the man, that he would be able to give them a satisfactory answer. His time and efforts were needed by someone much more important.
If only he could have turned back the hands of time over the last few months and foreseen some of what would befall his youngest son, Ben would have taken the boy out of harms way. He could have simply packed up Joseph and one of his other sons, Adam or Hoss, and ensured that Joe was kept safe in another town away from the dangers that lurked too close.
The family could no longer deny how much that the boy had changed within the past few months. Little Joe had begun to grow into a confident young man, full of energy and laughter who filled the house with love and joy. His mischievous and cheeky smile could worm its way into Ben's heart no matter how much he openly denied it.
The smile had faded to be replaced by tiredness, frustration and fear. During the day, vitality and enthusiasm had been replaced by dullness, lethargy and hisses of pain from still healing injuries. Nightfall and evenings came with nightmares, flashbacks and avoidance of what had happened.
Ben couldn't put an exact date that it had all changed, but now Joseph was sullen and withdrawn and rarely spoke unless asked a question, and then it would be a one-sided battle to get some sort of answer. Replies now came with a shrug of the shoulders, a shake or nod of his head and on very seldom occasions, one worded guarded truncated responses.
A solemn vow had been sworn that no matter how long it needed to take, that he, and his two eldest sons, Adam and Hoss would be there every minute of the day and night. To bring Joe back from the brink of depression, guilt and self-doubt. To instead provide encouragement, support and understanding but allow enough time for Joe to be trust himself again and to be comfortable around those that loved him unconditionally.
The distinct snap of a leather resign brought Ben back from his thoughts, as he felt the wagon lurch to the right briefly and then back in the opposite direction, adjusting the position he was seated in. Whilst he wished to be nowhere else right this moment, his back was protesting loudly and looking forward when he would be sitting back in a saddle rather than riding passenger.
“Joe, alright back there, Pa?” Hoss asked, guiding the wagon team as slowly as he could over the rough dirt road back to the Ponderosa. Stealing a worried glance or two over his shoulder at the unmoving mound of blankets lying beside his father.
Ben replied in a voice that held very little emotion at all, “As well as can be expected I guess, son. We will just have to keep a close eye on him and see how your brother fairs until Paul comes to see him tomorrow. It is going to be a difficult time for us all.”
Hoss nodded, feeling his gut twist that little more just thinking of what his young brother had been enduring. He looked to the clouds and prayed that they held off for a few more miles. A silent prayer of thanks was upon his lips as he saw the familiar gates of the Ponderosa looking back at him in the distance.
Guiding the team to a much slower pace as the buckboard pulled up outside the ranch house, the large man was grateful to see Adam, followed by Hop Sing coming out to meet the travelers. Another few meters, and the horse came to a complete stop. Hoss ran his hand through the mane of each animal, briefly patting each in gratitude before applying the brake and looping the reigns over the stick loosely.
Adam had volunteered to ride ahead of the rest of his family to make sure that everything would be ready in time for when his father and two young brothers arrived. There was hot water boiling on the stove in the kitchen out back, plenty of warm blankets had been arranged on the chair in the bedroom upstairs.
Supper had been prepared and kept warm as well by Hop Sing, but right now food seemed furthermost from anybody's list of priorities.
The head ranch foreman had heard the returning wagon, and ran over from the bunkhouse, grabbing a hold of the bridle of the horse on the right-hand side, trying currently kept the team as calm as possible for the men two men getting down. “Thanks, Charlie, I reckon you are plum right on time,” Hoss voiced in gratitude.
Adam took a look at his father, noting the tightness of his jaw, and the tension across his shoulders. Whilst Adam hadn't shared the ride back to notice the unspoken thoughts that plagued the eldest Cartwright's mind, nor had he heard the discouragement in Ben's tone of voice answering Hoss a few miles back. The tiredness etched on his face now, and the worry embedded deep into those brown eyes was unmistakable. The past few months had slowly started eating away at the man's soul and sense of justice.
Whilst it certainly wasn't fair to label Ben a broken man, his inner strength was shining through because of the person currently laying still and wrapped in blankets on the floor of the wagon. A few days ago, Adam had scarcely wanted to contemplate how his father would cope and continued on if Joe had not made it through thus far. That assessment had changed when seeing it was his love for Little Joe, tethering him to faith and hope, and allowing him to keep a constant vigil despite his own weariness. He doubted that he could have put into words how he felt right at this moment.
The look on Hoss's large exterior was one of determination, and his unspoken role of protector was also shining through, daring any danger or threat to come near his family.
One fifteen-year old boy held the magical golden key to all their hearts and was continuing to keep those who cared around him united. When this same boy had fallen along the way and was slowly withdrawing into himself and away from his family, it was up to all of them, to make sure Joe could turn to any of them for help and reassurance.
Despite the difficult times the boy had been forced to experience and the secrets that he had deliberately kept from them when he felt that there was nowhere else to turn; now he could come and talk to any of them at any time. That together they would help repair his sense of trust, and get past this terrible chapter in his young life, and that they all still loved him.
The first few delicate white snowflakes floated down from the clouds, causing everyone to shiver slightly and to make haste and double their efforts before the dusting gotten heavier. They needed to get Joe inside quickly and into his warm bed. The last thing he needed was to get sick from the chilly weather.
Hoss was beginning to lower the back board on the wagon, whilst he discussed with his father, the best method for safely removing Joe without causing any further pain. The medication in his system should be enough to prevent him from waking.
“Take it easy,” Ben implored his second-eldest son, knowing that he was aware of Joe's injuries. A muffled weak groan of protest could be heard coming from the mound of blankets when Hoss had first lifted his shoulders from the mattress.
“Paul wanted us to check those fresh stitches on his side are still in place once we have him settled upstairs, Adam. Heaven knows what that rough road had already done,” Ben asserted, knowing that there was a significant risk of the doctor's handy work from being pulled and causing fresh bleeding. And not to forget the pain from his older but still healing injuries.
Ben managed to move the still sleeping Joseph into a half-sitting position towards the end of the wagon, but the blankets had shifted in placed despite their best efforts to buffer against the cold. An involuntary shiver ran through Joe's body. Adam moved his left arm underneath the covers, placing it carefully under Joe's knees, and wrapping his right arm around the slim shoulders, in one fluid motion, he lifted the fragile boy out of the wagon.
Immediately, Ben had jumped down from the wagon, picking up one fallen damp blanket and hanging it over his own shoulder. A hand resting carefully against the cotton shirt that Joe wore, could detect a little warmth emanating through the heavy padding and bandages. He quickly adjusted one of the remaining blankets to cover up any extremities. This time Joe remained quiet and still, not even reacting to a cold hand checking for signs of fever.
As Adam started took two steps backwards away from the buckboard and then turned towards the house, he couldn't help but voice his frustration out loud at the far-too thin frame that he was conveying, “You need to start putting on a little weight again, Joe.”
The boy had lost so much weight from injury and stress his brother noted with dismay. The never-ending war to get his younger brother to eat sufficiently decent meals on a regular basis had been fought, lost and won on many occasions before going to Virginia City. But it looked as though, that fight and victory had been short-lived and the battle was about to be reignited.
Ben picked up the tails of the blankets from behind Adam and followed his eldest son, as Joe was carried into the homestead.
Hop Sing opened the door widely, allowing Adam to enter the large room and head towards the staircase. The small Chinese man lead the way up the steps, making sure that there was no obstacle or tripping hazard. The warmth of the house was welcomed by all, and noticeable as the family reached Joe' room.
Carefully, Adam laid his sleeping brother on the clean sheets, as the bed clothes were pulled back briefly, shifting Joe's upper body until he was resting comfortably on the pillows at the head of the bed. Ben began taking off his boots but left the socks, laying the shoes on a chair near the fireplace to keep them warm for later.
Adam unbuttoned Joe's trousers now that the boots had been removed, and had to keep his own anger in check as he saw the bruises and scratches that still marred the boy's pale flesh. The trousers had been a little stubborn at first due to the thick bandages still adorning the boy's left shin. The bandages would remain on for at least another month or two, Doc Martin informed them, before they could be removed and Joe be allowed to attempt putting full weight back on that leg.
Hoss stood guard by the bedroom doorway, both Adam and Ben knowing that turmoil and guilt was beginning to eat the larger Cartwright up inside to see his younger brother hurt and so still like this. Injured again, when he had barely begun healing in the first place. It went against the very grain of thing to Hoss's way of thinking, just like everything else that had happened to his brother. He despised the men who had done this to Joe. He had a strong dislike for the Judge who had put the boy through so much humiliation in front of everyone. He didn't understand a justice system that put its sole trust in the opinions of a few unreliable witnesses. And most of all, he hated himself for being so angry.
He muttered a brief word about returning to help Charlie with the horses and gather everything else out of the wagon and left the room to go back downstairs.
Joe appeared to be sleeping peacefully and was probably due to stay that way for several more hours to come. Adam had managed to get one of Ben's shirts over the boy's head and bandages, the two of them tucking the blankets back in around him.
Hoss returned to the house, and came into the bedroom once more, carrying the other reminders of Joe's injuries. Crossing to the other side of the room, he propped the two wooden crutches up against the wall in the far corner. It was doubtful that his brother would be leaving his bed anytime soon in the next few days.
The crutches told the story that Joe needed more than his family's love and caring at the moment just to stand. The boy had stumbled a number of times whilst trying to manoeuvre back and forth from the witness stand. To Hoss and the rest of the family they only seemed to confirm their fears about how badly Little Joe had been hurt.
There had been a discussion about Joe's hat before they had left Virginia City, which was now placed on a bedside table. There had also been a question about his favoured green jacket, but that had been left back at Doc Martin's due to the damage caused to it. Ben had declared the garment beyond repair or salvage and could no longer bear to look upon it and see it stained with his youngest son's blood.
Knowing it was going to be a long night for all, Adam suggested to Hoss that they both go downstairs and get some coffee and the hot food that Hop Sing had downstairs. Hoss started to voice objection, but looking at his father and receiving a silent 'work with me' plea from Adam, reluctantly nodded in agreement, recognizing that their father needed some alone time with his son.
No doubt they would need to rotate between them, including Hop Sing, to take care of Joe during the night, none of them feeling comfortable enough to leave him unattended. One step forward and two back seemed an apt description lately for everything.
“We will bring you a hot cup of coffee, Pa,” Hoss promised his father.
“That sure would be welcome,” Ben admitted, grateful for the warmth within the room from the fireplace. Drawing the larger arm chair closer to the bed and removing his thicker coat, laying it beside the already discarded gloves, intending to occupy it later in the night. Even with its gaudy floral fabric, the comfortable chair had almost become a permanent fixture to the room, but after sitting in it for hours at a time, Ben's back had been thankful.
Joe had not awoken as such, but for a brief moment his quiet slumber was disturbed and he seemed to be having a battle against unseen shadows again. Demons that had probably been created from the memories of the real monsters that had stalked him and then caused him so much hurt and pain. Suffering and fear that he had hidden from his family. A deep gnawing fear that bit into the boy’s very soul and stole his spirit with it.
Ben sat on the edge of the bed, for now, the only real important thing was to let the Joseph know that his family was right here with him and that he was safe and loved. He spoke softly to the boy, reminding him of how much his family had missed him and how proud they had been of him over the last few days.
He continued to talk soothing words to his son as he slept, caressing his face, almost too afraid to touch the bruised cheek until all sounds of distress had ceased.
Ben's mind started to take him back to a time about a month ago when everything seemed to be going fine. If only he could go back there now.
To be continued …...............
Author Notes:
Rewriting – a great many will probably ask why when there are lot of new ones to write. Whilst this true, I felt that I needed to go back and fix the many mistakes that had been made when trying to finish in too much of a hurry. But this extended story will be more than a mere going back to fix errors, this story is about to double in size, with much more new content to be added. None of it having been seen yet, and hopefully enough twists to keep you reading, but not taking away from the original story that many liked to read.
This chapter didn't have a lot of new content, but the next few chapters will be longer and more involved.
I hope you will continue to read all of my work. I have a couple of new fandoms I write now, and plan to rewrite and add to a lot of my stories, because as readers, you deserve it, but as a fan of the characters, feel that I haven’t quite ended these pages enough just yet.
Thank you for reading.
Jules