Flames
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“Joe! What are you doing here?” The young man frowned.
“Isn’t that my line?” Joe asked, amused, stepping down from his pinto horse,
Cochise. He took the rein in his hand and walked round the horse, smiling at the
group of young men gathered in the clearing. “I thought you fellas knew the
ranch well enough by now that you’d realise that this is not the South Forty.
Are you lost again?”
The five young men gathered there had all been at school with Joe. Although they
hadn’t been particular friends, Joe had been quite pleased to see them when they
turned up at the ranch looking for work a few months back. With the fluctuating
work situation in Virginia City, a number of the boys Joe had been at school
with had moved on, following the gold strikes or trying their luck with the free
land in Oregon Territory. When Mikey, Steve, Phil, Jason and Simon had returned
to town after seven years away, Joe had been pleased to see them. He was even
more pleased to be able to offer them work, as the ranch was just coming up to
the busiest season of the year, when the herd was rounded up, ready to drive to
the cattle markets in Sacramento.
It was slightly awkward for Joe to be their boss, but Joe put himself out to
ease the awkwardness and he thought he had succeeded quite well. The five were
hard working and learned quickly. The only stumbling block had been their
tendency to get lost, and none of them made any bones about their lack of sense
of direction. Joe thought that this encounter was another example of them
turning left when they should have turned right.
“I guess…” Jason began, but Simon didn’t let him finish. Joe suddenly found
himself looking into the barrel of a gun.
“You’re gonna stop riding us, Cartwright!” Simon growled. “We’re sick of you
always on our backs!”
Frozen in place, Joe glanced at the other men and saw that Simon’s attitude
hadn’t come as a surprise to them. “What is this?” he asked, trying to keep his
voice calm. “Simon, you work for us. Telling you what to do is part of the job.”
“Not any more!” Simon growled. “Put your hands up, Cartwright.”
Slowly, Joe did as he was told. Jason lifted Joe’s gun from his holster. Mikey
squirmed uneasily. “This ain’t the way it was supposed to be,” he whined. Joe
remembered that he’d always been a whiner at school, too.
“Just shut up!” Simon warned him and Mikey wisely backed down. Simon had an
unpredictable temper, despite his blond hair and angel face. Thin, small Mikey
wouldn’t have stood a chance against the taller, stronger, heavier Simon.
“All right, now what?” Joe asked. “What are you planning?”
“Some fun,” Simon responded, coldly. He nodded to his friends and Phil and Steve
grabbed Joe’s arms. Cochise snorted and danced a step or two away. Joe, caught
by surprise, found his arms in an unbreakable grip. He struggled futilely.
“Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it,” Joe advised Simon, not for his own
sake, but for the other man’s. “Just ride away and I’ll forget about this.”
“You always were a coward, Cartwright,” Simon sneered and Joe saw red. He had
been trying to defuse the situation, but no more. Not caring that he was
severely out-numbered, Joe wrenched his left arm free and threw a punch at
Simon.
It never connected. Simon simply stepped back while Phil, who had hold of Joe’s
right arm, pulled, swinging Joe around. Joe stumbled and Simon moved in, his
fists swinging, too. Joe knew, as the first punch hit him, that he didn’t stand
a chance.
It was a free-for-all. Joe tried to fight back, but there were too many of them.
As he crumpled to the ground, dazed and bleeding, there was a shot and everyone
froze. “Back off!” ordered a voice and Joe managed to raise his head and peer
disbelievingly at his father and brothers who sat on their horses a few feet
away, rifles pointing at Joe’s assailants.
Slowly, the five backed away. Joe knew he should get up and prove that he wasn’t
hurt, but it was beyond him to move. He simply lay there, dropping his head back
down to the ground. Holding it up was more effort than he could afford to
expend.
“Get out of here!” Ben ordered, disgust clear in his tone. “Keep on riding. If I
see you again, I’ll have you arrested!” He, Adam and Hoss watched as the five
mounted up and rode out. Jason dropped Joe’s gun onto the ground as he left.
Only when they were a good distance away did Ben sheath his rifle and jump from
Buck’s back to hurry over to Joe’s side. Adam and Hoss were right with him.
“Joe, are you all right?” Ben asked, kneeling by his son and gently turning him
over.
“Thanks for the rescue,” Joe croaked. “Pity you didn’t arrive sooner.” The ghost
of a smile flitted across his face.
“Its sheer luck we arrived at all,” Ben replied, taking in the bruises on Joe’s
face and the blood coming from both nose and lip. “Adam, get the canteen.”
The water helped revive Joe and he sat up with Ben’s help. Everything hurt, but
Joe didn’t think there were any bones broken. He knew that he would have a
motley collection of bruises to show for his afternoon’s work. “Feeling better?”
Ben asked.
“Yes, thanks,” Joe replied.
“What happened?” Adam asked, eyeing Joe keenly.
“I saw them here, when they should’ve been on the South Forty,” Joe replied. “I
thought they’d got lost again, but Simon pulled a gun on me.” He shrugged and
bit back the wince that rose to his lips. “The rest you pretty much saw.”
“I wonder what they was up ta,” Hoss murmured.
“You got me,” Joe replied.
“Well, whatever it was, we’ll keep an eye out for them,” Ben responded. “I hated
to let them go, but there were more of them than us. Think you’re all right to
ride, Joe?”
“I’ll be fine,” Joe assured him and tried another smile. It was slightly more
successful than its predecessor. He allowed his brothers to help him to his feet
and was grateful for the arm that Hoss kept around his waist while he regained
his equilibrium. Ben watched critically as Joe was helped onto his horse, but he
could see that Joe, while sore, was quite capable of riding. However, Ben kept
the pace slow as they headed for home.
It didn’t surprise anyone that Joe opted for an
early night that night. A hot bath had done a lot to loosen stiff muscles, but
it was clear that Joe was sore. However, he joined in with the speculation about
what the five men had had in mind. Finally, Ben shrugged. “Well, unless we have
the misfortune to come across them again, we’ll probably never know,” he
admitted. “I’ll pass the word to the others to keep an eye out for them.”
“I think I’ll go to bed,” Joe added, and got stiffly to his feet. He waved away
offers of help and walked quite smoothly upstairs.
As he undressed, Joe looked at himself in the mirror and winced as he saw the
dark bruises on his ribs. His face felt lumpy and stiff and his right eye was
circled by a rainbow of colours. Luckily for Joe, it wasn’t too badly swollen.
“Guess I got off lightly,” he told his reflection. His reflection didn’t look
convinced. Joe climbed into bed and fell asleep in an instant.
The next day dawned clear and cloudless and Joe
was at the table just a few minutes after his brothers. The discomfort his
bruises had given him the night before was wearing off and he had no trouble
convincing his father that he was able to go to work. “We’re five men down,” he
reminded Ben when it was suggested that he have an easy day. “And the fence on
the north range won’t repair itself, Pa.” Joe had been checking on it the
previous day when he had fallen foul of Jason, Simon and co.
“All right,” Ben capitulated. “Can you manage alone?”
“I think so,” Joe replied.
“If we get a move on this morning, Hoss and I can go up and help Joe finish
after lunch,” Adam suggested.
“Thanks, that would be good,” Joe agreed. He finished his meal and went out to
put the things he would need on the buckboard.
“Looks like it’s going to be warn today,” Ben commented, eyeing the sky as he
came out to bid Joe goodbye.
“Sure does,” Joe agreed, with feeling. He knew he would be working in the full
blaze of the sun and he checked that he had a couple of canteens with him. He
was close enough to a stream to refill his canteen if need be, but if he had two
to work with, he wouldn’t need to have a break to refill them quite as often.
“See you later, Pa.”
“Be careful,” Ben warned him, as he always did. Joe waved in response.
When Joe arrived at the north range, he dropped
off the timber he would be using in strategic places along the length of the
fence before tethering the team in the shade and setting to work. For the most
part, Joe was doing a virtual rebuild of the fence. This high, the snow was deep
in the winter and every summer, the fence was broken down. Joe felt he could’ve
built the fence in his sleep, he had done it so often.
After a while, Joe stopped, took off his shirt, hat and gun belt and dropped
them on the buckboard seat. He took a long drink and tipped some of the water
over his head. It felt great and he shivered momentarily as a few cold drops ran
down his bare chest. He resumed working.
It was well into the morning when something caught Joe’s attention out of the
corner of his eye. Pausing, he glanced around and saw to his horror a plume of
smoke rising about the trees. Fire!
Habit had Joe dropping his hammer and turning to jump onto his horse, but even
as he turned, he remembered that he was there with the buckboard and team, not a
horse and by the time he got anywhere near the fire, it, hopefully, would be
well under control. Up at the north range, there was precious little Joe
could’ve done to help anyway. He paused, irresolute, wanting to go and help
fight the fire, but realising that he was too far away. Finally, he walked back
to the fence and picked up his discarded hammer. But although he worked as
diligently as he could, the smoke was a constant distraction.
Gradually, the smoke began to thin and Joe was relieved to see evidence that
someone had seen it and was now dealing with the blaze before it could consume
too much timber. He could smell the smoke on the air as the breeze moved it in
his direction. Content that his help wasn’t needed, Joe applied himself to his
fence mending with renewed determination. He hoped that only the larger bits
would remain for Adam and Hoss to help him with after lunch.
That thought made Joe pause, for he suddenly realised that it might be quite
some time after lunch – if at all – that his brothers would arrive. The fire
would hold everyone up. Resolutely, Joe shrugged and continued working. But then
he paused. He thought he could hear… Joe strained his ears, putting down the
hammer again, and took a few steps away from the fence, frowning. He could hear
the thunder of hooves and for a moment, he thought that it was a stampede, but
the herd was far from where he was.
But only some of the herd was far from where Joe was. Some of them – Joe
estimated about 20 head – were thundering up the hill towards him, being chased
along by five men on horseback. His heart sank as he recognised them as Jason,
Phil, Simon, Mikey and Steve. He turned to make a run back to the buckboard for
his gun, but he was too late. Simon had spotted him and a bullet bit into the
ground near his foot as the cattle turned away from the mostly-repaired fence,
slowing as they did so. There wasn’t enough broken down fence to allow them to
get through.
“We meet again,” Simon sneered as he stopped his horse a few feet away from Joe.
“And I like it less every time,” Joe replied. “So that’s what you were doing
yesterday; making sure that the fence wouldn’t stop the cattle you were planning
on rustling.”
“That’s it,” Jason agreed. He got down and moved closer to Joe, although not
close enough for Joe to try anything. “We sure worked you over good yesterday,
didn’t we?” he laughed. Joe glanced down at the bruises dotting his chest and
stomach.
“I’ve had worse,” Joe remarked, knowing it would aggravate them, but unable to
stop himself. He gestured with his head to the cattle milling about aimlessly.
“If you don’t go catch your cows, they’ll make their way back to the herd,” he
mentioned sarcastically. “Or have you decided to forget them for now?”
Enraged, Jason gave Joe a shove. Joe staggered back and bounced off the fence.
“We don’t have time for this,” Simon announced, glancing over his shoulder as
Jason and Joe exchanged sharp looks. “The fire’s out and I thought it would take
a bit longer to get under control. Let’s forget the cattle for now. We don’t
have time to rip down the fence, round them up and drive them away. They’ll
catch us. We were seen, remember.”
“What do you want to do about him?” Jason asked.
“Shoot him!” Steve laughed.
“I’m tempted,” Simon agreed, watching Joe to see how this news would affect him,
but Joe kept his face sober. “But we don’t want them hunting us down for murder.
Let’s just tie him up and someone will set him loose eventually.”
Instantly, Joe knew he wasn’t going to quietly submit to being tied. Simon was
malicious and a bully and Joe knew that anything Simon planned would not be
pleasant. If there was someone coming after them, it probably wouldn’t be long
before they arrived, but Joe couldn’t be sure of that. He took to his heels.
He didn’t get far. Immediately, he could hear hooves after him and moments later
a body landed heavily on Joe’s shoulders, driving him to the ground. Joe fought
as best he could, but he no more chance against the five of them than he had had
the previous afternoon. Dazed, Joe was barely away as he was dragged up against
the fence, his back to a stout post. His arms were pulled out from his body and
tightly bound to the rails and a loop of rope that was attached to his wrists
went around his throat so that he couldn’t move at all.
“So long, Cartwright,” Simon whispered, leaning in close to look in Joe’s face.
He punched the helpless man in the stomach, laughing as Joe choked as his body
involuntarily doubled over as far as it could go. By now, they could all hear
hooves in the distance, coming ever closer. Simon jumped on his horse and they
all rode off, leaving Joe alone.
It was imperative that he didn’t struggle, Joe
thought. If he pulled at the rope on his wrists, he would choke himself and the
rope round his throat was tight enough already, thanks to that punch. He brought
one knee up, pushing himself back against the fence, but the muscles in his leg
were trembling, thanks to the pounding he had just taken. A burning sensation
was starting to creep along his arms and his head was throbbing. “Hurry,” he
whispered to whoever was coming his way.
The cattle were no longer milling about anxiously, but were beginning to calm
down and start grazing. Joe just hoped that the appearance of the riders that he
could hear coming wouldn’t startle the spooked animals again, because if they
should stampede, he would be in a lot of danger. Joe swallowed with difficulty,
feeling the rope rasping over his Adam’s apple. His mouth was as dry as a
desert.
It was another few minutes before the first rider came into view and immediately
slowed their horse, putting up a hand to warn the others following. With a vast
amount of relief, Joe recognised Hoss. He willed his brother to look in his
direction, for shouting was beyond him.
“Here’s them cows,” Hoss called back over his shoulder and Joe saw Adam ride up,
along with several hands.
“Joe should be here somewhere…” Adam said. Their voices carried easily over the
still air in the meadow. He glanced around and spotted Joe immediately. “Joe!”
Those moments were probably the most dangerous of all for Joe. The relief that
he had been found caused his body to start slumping as the tension began to ebb
away. But as that happened, he slid down slightly and began to choke anew.
Desperately he fought, but that only made things worse.
But he wasn’t alone. Moments later, he felt someone’s arms around him, holding
him up and he opened his eyes to look into Adam’s concerned face. “Easy, Joe,”
Adam urged. “You’ve got to keep still so we can help you.”
“Keep still,” Hoss urged and Joe felt something cold against his neck. His
absolute trust in his brothers allowed him to keep still as Hoss slid his knife
blade under the rope round Joe’s neck and gently cut through it. The relief was
immediate as the pressure vanished and Joe slumped down even further. It took
only seconds before his arms were cut free, and Adam laid Joe gently on the
grass.
“Get some water,” he told Hoss curtly. “Joe, are you all right?” He began to rub
some life back into Joe’s arms. The returning circulation made Joe wince
slightly, but it was a huge improvement over the burning he had been suffering
before.
“I’m okay,” he whispered. He heard Hoss returning with the canteen and gulped
eagerly at the cool water. “Thanks,” he added, as he finished. He leaned back
against Hoss’ broad chest.
“What happened?” Adam asked, seeing that Joe did look better after the drink.
“Simon and co again,” Joe replied. His voice felt raspy and his throat was sore.
A hand strayed up to feel his neck, but Adam prevented him. “They set that fire
and were going to drive the cattle through this fence, but I’d repaired too much
of it.” He reached for the canteen again.
“We’d better get Joe home,” Adam decided. He rose and walked away and a few
moments later, Joe could hear him giving orders to the hands. He closed his eyes
briefly, suddenly exhausted. He opened them as Adam came back. “Think you’re up
to riding?” Adam asked. “Fred will bring the buckboard back; you can have his
horse.”
“I can ride,” Joe croaked. Hoss and Adam helped Joe to his feet and Adam went to
retrieve Joe’s shirt, hat and gun belt while Hoss kept a close eye on Joe. Apart
from a few winces, Joe kept his feet quite easily, which reassured the big man.
He had felt his heart contract when he spotted the way Joe was trussed to the
fence.
“Here you go,” Adam said, plonking Joe’s hat on at a rakish angle. He slid a
sleeve carefully over Joe’s wrist, pulled the material over his brother’s
shoulders and up the other arm.
“I can dress myself,” Joe protested mildly.
“I’ll believe you,” Adam responded dryly and handed Joe his gun belt, which the
younger man buckled around his slender hips. He stayed close as Joe walked
across to Fred’s horse, and watched while Joe mounted and got settled. Then,
convinced that Joe wasn’t going to black out, he mounted his own horse and they
set off for home.
If Ben had been angry the previous day, it was
nothing compared to his fury when his sons arrived home. His anger was further
fuelled by Joe’s appearance and every wince or cough just fanned the flames even
higher. Tenderly, he helped Joe into the house and made him sit down on the
settee, although Joe protested the whole time that he was all right.
“We’ve got to report this to Roy,” he declared. “And I think the doctor should
take a look at you, Joe.” His warm hand lingered too close to Joe’s neck for the
young man’s comfort and he moved uneasily. He didn’t know that there was a huge
rope burn on his neck, but it was sore enough that he didn’t want anyone
accidentally touching it.
“I’m okay,” Joe protested, but it might have convinced everyone more if his
voice hadn’t cracked slightly at the end.
“You have to talk to Roy anyway,” Adam pointed out calmly. “You were the one
that Simon told about setting the fire.”
“I’ll talk to Roy,” Joe agreed, wearily. He rose to his feet and stifled a
wince. He had yet more bruises to add to the collection he had received the
previous day. He walked slowly out to the yard and waited obediently as Hoss
saddled Cochise for him. All too soon, they were riding into town.
“We’ll git up a posse tomorra an’ go lookin’
fer them,” Roy promised. “I c’n hardly believe it. Those boys always seemed all
right, compared to some of ‘em.” He twinkled a joking look at Joe, who smiled
tiredly. But it was true. Simon had always tended to be something of a bully,
but Jason usually kept him under control. Mikey was a follower and a whiner, but
all right. None of them had ever got into serious trouble and it was because of
this reputation that Ben had hired them.
“I know,” Ben sighed. He saw the tiredness on Joe’s face and decided that it
would be a good idea to get Joe to the doctor and then home. He had had a hard
couple of days. “We’ll be keeping our eyes out for them, too.” He rose and his
sons rose along with him. “Thanks, Roy.”
There was a light on in Paul’s surgery and Ben took Joe’s arm to steer him over
that way. Joe didn’t bother to resist – he knew an immoveable object when he met
one.
It didn’t take Paul long to establish that no permanent damage had been done to
Joe’s throat or vocal cords. He was quite bruised by then, and the rope burn
looked red, so Paul bandaged it gently, along with the burns on Joe’s wrists.
“Go home and rest,” he ordered. “Keep the bandages on for a couple of days, till
we make sure no infection sets in, but you’re fine, Joe.”
“Thank you,” Ben replied, gratefully. He steered Joe out into the waiting room
where Adam and Hoss were sitting. He gave them both a smile and even before he
spoke, they knew that Joe was going to be all right. “He’s fine, boys,” Ben
reassured them. “Let’s go home.”
“…So keep an eye out for anything suspicious,”
Ben concluded. He watched as the men gathered around him nodded and mumbled
agreement. He had been warning them about their erstwhile colleagues. At least,
he thought as he dismissed the men, he hadn’t had to give descriptions of the
men. The hands all knew each other.
Turning to his sons, who were standing together by the corral, Ben raised his
eyebrows. “Have you no work to do?” he enquired, in a tone that suggested that
‘no’ would be the wrong answer.
“Sure do,” Hoss agreed and moved off with alacrity. He was more than happy for
Adam and Joe to talk to Ben.
Raising his eyebrows, Ben waited. Sure enough, Adam immediately began to speak.
“We should ride up and warn the timber crews, too, Pa,” he suggested. “The fire
yesterday didn’t do much damage, because it was spotted in time. But if the men
are busy, they might not notice another one as soon. They need to be alert,
too.”
“I suppose they do,” Ben agreed. “And you two thought you’d go and do that, did
you? Very commendable, sons.” He hoped that he had hidden his amusement from
them. Their motive was so transparent.
The brothers exchanged a look. “Told you Hoss leaving would give us away,” Joe
commented laconically.
“So you did,” Adam responded. “What do you say, Pa?”
“All right, go tell the timber crews,” Ben sighed. “But don’t spend all day
looking for the others, all right? I would like you both do some work today.
Joe, don’t overdo it, all right?”
“Sure thing, Pa,” Joe agreed, readily. Too readily, Ben thought. He knew that if
by some chance Joe and Adam did meet up with the gang, overdoing things would
not be on Joe’s mind at all! He watched them mount. “Be careful,” he called
after them, although he hadn’t meant to say anything.
As Ben went into the barn to get his horse, an uneasy feeling crawled down his
spine and it took all his determination not to go after them both.
Riding out to the timber camps took longer than
the actual explanations did. The crews agreed that they would keep a look out
for the men, and the boss frowned thoughtfully. “I think I seen them men,” he
muttered as everyone else went back to work.
“Where?” Joe asked eagerly.
“Let me think,” the man muttered and scratched his sweating, balding head. It
was another hot day. Joe looked at Adam, but his older brother was watching the
boss. “I know!” he exclaimed. “I seen them over by the Carson City road a day or
so ago.” He pointed. “I’m sure it was them.”
“Thanks,” Adam told him, clapping him on the shoulder. “C’mon, Joe, let’s go.”
Joe didn’t need any urging. He was already mounting.
Silently, they rode towards the Carson City
road. It took them about an hour to reach the place that they had been told
about, where the gang had been seen.
Cautiously, they dismounted a short distance away and tethered the horses
securely. Wordlessly, Adam drew his gun and glanced round to see that Joe had
drawn his, too. He nodded. Joe returned the gesture and they made their way over
to the campsite.
Separating, they eased their way through the foliage. Adam felt a twinge of
worry as Joe disappeared from his sight. True, Joe had not been badly hurt in
his last two encounters with these men, but Adam was not naive enough to think
that this pattern was bound to continue. If something was going to happen, it
usually happened to Joe.
There was a sudden cry and Adam felt a lurch in his gut. He dived through the
concealing foliage and discovered that Joe’s cry had been of frustration, not
fear.
“They’re gone!” Joe exclaimed in disgust.
“So I see,” Adam retorted in equal disgust. “You do know that I thought they had
attacked you again? When you shouted a minute ago, I thought they were here.” He
drew a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It was the mingled fear and relief
that were causing him to lose his temper. He couldn’t prevent giving his
youngest brother a glare.
“I’m sorry,” Joe replied, contritely. “I didn’t think. I was just so frustrated
that they’re gone.”
“I know,” Adam nodded, placing a hand momentarily on the back of Joe’s neck.
“And I didn’t mean to jump all over you.”
“What are we going to do now?” Joe asked as Adam holstered his gun. “Just go
home?”
“Why don’t we let Roy know what we found?” Adam suggested. He was as
disappointed as Joe that they had found the gang’s encampment too late.
“All right,” Joe agreed. They made their way back to the horses.
“You’re very quiet,” Adam noted as they reached
the outskirts of the town.
“I was just thinking,” Joe replied. “These guys are looking to rustle some
cattle, so they must have somewhere in mind to stash them.”
“Uh-huh,” Adam nodded cautiously, wondering where Joe was going with this.
That was all the encouragement Joe needed. “Why don’t we start looking in the
most likely places?” Joe urged, enthusiastically. “After all, we’ve lived round
here long enough to know the best hiding places.”
“Joe, that could take forever,” Adam admonished. “We could spend the rest of our
lives doing that.” He saw Joe’s face fall. “Besides, what do you think Roy has
been doing?”
“I don’t know what Roy’s been doing!” Joe shot back. “But Roy is only one man,
Adam. He can’t be everywhere at once. He’s needed in town, too.”
“Well, I suggest that we find out what Roy has been doing first, before you
shoot off on one of your little adventures,” Adam replied, sarcastically. “After
all, you’ve come off worst both times you’ve met them and needed us to help you
out.”
He regretted his sarcastic words at once. “Don’t you think I know that?” Joe
retorted, his face showing all too clearly his hurt at Adam’s words. “I was just
suggesting that we do something to help Roy out. But fine, you please yourself,
Adam! After all, we all know you’re always right!” He urged his horse into a
quicker gait.
“Joe! Dammit, don’t go off mad!” Adam called after him, but he might as well
have been spitting into the wind for all the effect his words had on his
brother. Cursing under his breath, Adam urged Sport to a lope.
It was rather a relief for Adam to see Joe
dismounting in front of the sheriff’s office as they had planned. Joe waited for
Adam to dismount and they went into the office together, but Joe resolutely
refused to look at Adam and said not a word. Adam knew he would have to talk to
Joe to sort things out between them, and soon, but he didn’t want to do it in
public, or in the sheriff’s office.
Roy Coffee, the sheriff, was buckling on his gun belt as the Cartwrights entered
his office. He looked up, then smiled a welcome. “I jist sent someone out ta
speak ta you folks,” he announced. He glanced past them, clearly expecting to
see Ben and Hoss, too. “Ain’t yer pa with ya?” he enquired.
“No, just us,” Adam replied. “We were coming to tell you that we found the place
where that gang had been camped, but they’ve gone.”
“I sent someone out ta tell ya that we think they’ve done another ranch
yesterday. Same pattern as they used on yer place,” Roy explained. “They set a
fire first, then stole a bunch of cattle.”
“Any leads?” Adam asked.
“Reckon so,” Roy replied. “Ya fellas wanna come along?”
“Sure do,” Joe agreed before Adam could say anything. He shot Adam a glance.
Before Adam could react, there was a thunder of hooves outside and Roy dashed
over to the door and threw it open. Clem Foster, Roy’s deputy, was just getting
down off his horse. “Roy! We’ve spotted them on the outskirts of town! They
haven’t seen us, and the posse’s keepin’ them under surveillance. Hurry!”
He didn’t need to add that last word, as Roy was already hurrying towards his
horse. Joe thought vaguely that he had never seen Roy moved so quickly, but the
thought was nebulous and swiftly lost as he mounted his own horse.
They went by a roundabout route to avoid alerting the men they were chasing.
Adam tried to get Joe’s attention to talk to him, but Joe was deliberately
blanking his older brother and Adam finally gave up. Shouting back on forth on a
horse was not the way he wanted to straighten things out.
Stopping at the side of the old feed store, they left the horses there and went
on, on foot. The deserted livery stable – out grown when the mines hit silver –
gave them shelter as they crept forward. About 100 yards away, the men were
sitting under a tree, talking.
“Bet they’ve got the cattle hidden in Dry Creek Canyon,” Joe whispered and was
gratified to see Roy nod in agreement. Dry Creek Canyon was close to town, but
only local kids went there to play sometimes.
“Let’s move out,” Roy suggested.
“Joe, be careful,” Adam said, as Joe followed in Roy’s wake.
For a moment, Joe looked at him. “And you,” he replied, although his tone did
not yet have the warmth that Adam was accustomed to hearing.
It wasn’t really enough, Adam decided as he, too, followed Roy. But it was all
they had time for and would have to do.
Given the lack of cover, it was no surprise
that the posse was spotted at once. Jason, Phil, Simon, Steve and Mikey all
leapt to their feet and made a dash for their horses. Phil made it as far as his
saddle, but by then, gunfire was being exchanged and Phil stopped a bullet. As
he dropped from his saddle, the other horses broke free, spooked by the repeated
firing so close by, and took off.
Simon took a shot at Roy that blew the sheriff’s hat off and fled into the
trees. Jason followed close on his heels. Seeing this, Joe veered off to go
after them, and Adam raced after him. He momentarily lost sight of Joe amongst
the trees and when Adam did spot him again, he was in time to see Simon appear
out of the trees and swing his gun down onto Joe’s head. Silently, the youngest
Cartwright toppled to the ground.
“Joe!” Adam cried and heedlessly dashed to his brother’s rescue, forgetting that
there was another suspect in those trees. He fired wildly at Simon, knowing that
his aim was erratic and Simon ducked, grabbing Joe. Next moment, a gun butt
crashed down onto Adam’s head and he fell to the ground, the world spinning
crazily.
He could hear crashing all around and somehow forced himself to his feet,
leaning heavily on the nearest tree for support. He glanced towards where Joe
had been lying and realised that his brother was gone! Turning too swiftly, Adam
almost lost his precarious hold on his balance, but somehow managed to right
himself. He staggered from the trees in time to see Simon and Jason dragging Joe
into the old livery stable. Adam took a step after them and crashed to the
ground, out cold.
“Tie him up!” Simon ordered Jason as he
barricaded the doors. They were both panting, but unscathed. Joe lay in an
unconscious heap on the ground where they had thrown him. There was blood
matting his chestnut curls. Jason snatched up a length of discarded rope,
briefly tested it for soundness, and used it to tie Joe’s hands and feet.
As Jason finished tying Joe, he glanced at Simon, who was prowling about the
building. “What do you think?” he asked.
“I think we should get into the loft,” Simon replied. “We can defend it more
easily. Take that rope – its long enough that we can lower ourselves to the
ground. But they can only get up into the loft by this ladder. Throw Cartwright
up there, too. He’ll be useful as a hostage.”
“I like your thinking,” Jason replied, with a wolfish grin. Between them, they
manoeuvred Joe into the loft and set about rigging the rope for their escape.
“Adam, can ya hear me?”
“Roy?” Adam murmured, recognising the voice that pulled him from the
all-enveloping blackness. He struggled to sit up. “What happened?”
“I reckon ya must’ve got conked on the head,” Roy replied, once more wiping away
a trickle of blood from Adam’s cheek.
“Joe!” Adam remembered and tried to get to his feet, but a wave of pain from his
head hammered him back to the ground. “They’ve got Joe!”
“I know,” Roy replied, grimly. “They’ve holed up in the old livery.” He
exchanged a glance with Clem. Now, they had a hostage situation to deal with.
Roy hated that, as the hostage seldom survived.
“Joe!” Adam whispered, anguished. One thought beat through his mind; they hadn’t
properly made up their quarrel.
Slowly, Joe opened his eyes. The world swam in
front of his eyes for a moment before his focus finally sorted itself out. His
head was thumping and when he tried to move, he discovered that he was bound
hand and foot. Squinting, Joe lifted his head and peered around him. What he saw
made no sense; he seemed to be in a hayloft. How had he got there? Turning his
head a bit further, he saw Simon and Jason crouching by the big doors usually
used to bring hay bales into the loft. Memory came racing back to him and he
couldn’t stifle a groan.
Hearing the groan, Simon rose and walked over to Joe, standing over him and
gazing impassively down. Joe fought to keep his expression neutral. “So you’re
awake,” Simon remarked. “Don’t try anything, Cartwright. I’ll kill you as soon
as look at you; just remember that!” He brandished his gun.
The only answer Joe could think of to that wasn’t the wisest one, so he kept it
to himself, contenting himself with holding Simon’s gaze until the other man
turned and walked calmly away. At once, Joe began to struggle against his bonds.
He watched his captors all the time, immediately ceasing his struggles if one of
them began to turn round.
But neither Simon nor Jason were overly interested in Joe at that point. They
were too busy watching the goings-on outside through a gap in the big doors.
“Look!” Jason exclaimed. “There’s Ben Cartwright!”
“Might have known he’d show up,” Simon remarked, disparagingly. “Aw, look; he’s
kneeling beside Adam. Ain’t that sweet? Daddy’s worried about his little boy!”
He laughed.
The relief that Joe had felt at the sound of his father’s name died away. Adam!
What had happened to Adam? Fear lanced through Joe’s heart.
“I’m all right, Pa,” Adam insisted. The
unfocused gaze told his concerned father a different story. Adam was, at the
very least, concussed. He gently restrained his oldest son.
“I’m sure you are, son,” he agreed. “But you stay right there until the doctor
says you’re all right.”
“But Joe!” Adam protested, trying to get up once more. A sideways tilt of the
world kept him down.
“Let Hoss and I worry about Joe,” Ben instructed. “We’ll get your brother out
safely, don’t worry.” He exchanged a glance with Hoss.
“We sure will,” he agreed. “An’ if’n ya don’ stay down there, I’ll sit on ya!”
Adam gave a sort of laugh, which was reassuring to his family.
Just then, Doctor Paul Martin arrived and knelt by Adam. Ben hovered helplessly,
but Paul was soon smiling up at him. “No skull fracture that I can feel,” he
told the anxious father. “But he’s got a concussion. I’ll take him back to the
office and he can rest more comfortably there.”
“No,” Adam objected. “I’m not going anywhere until I know Joe is safe.”
Before either Ben or Paul could say anything, Roy came up. “Ben, I’m gonna talk
to them boys now. I figgered ya’d want ta come?”
“Yes, I do,” Ben agreed. He went with Roy and Paul let Adam stay where he was.
Now that he knew the situation, he could see why Adam wanted to stay.
“Here’s the sheriff comin’,” Simon hissed to
Jason, who had been tormenting Joe by kicking him.
“You boys in there!” Roy shouted. “Put down yer weapons an’ come on out!”
“No way!” Simon shouted down. “Keep away!”
“One way or another, we’re comin’ in fer ya,” Roy told him. “Make it easy on
yerself an’ give up now.”
“No!” Simon replied. He backed over to where Joe lay and swiftly cut the bonds
on Joe’s feet. He yanked Joe to his feet and dragged him across to the door and
threw it wider open. “If you value Joe Cartwright’s life, then back off!” he
cried, holding his gun to Joe’s head.
Beside Roy, Ben gasped. “Don’t hurt Joe!” he begged. “He hasn’t done anything to
you!”
“Back off and we won’t hurt him,” Simon informed him. “We want to get out of
here, so get us some horses and we might leave Cartwright here. Try anything,
and we’ll take him to pieces, one bit at a time.” He shook Joe and the injured
young man groaned. The sudden movement had caused his head to start swimming
again, and Joe was unaware of the blood that was dried all down his cheek. “Now
back off! I don’t want to see you again unless you’re bringing us horses!” He
dragged Joe back into the loft and threw him to the floor.
Outside, Ben turned to Roy. “Get the horses,” he instructed the sheriff. “Hoss
and I are going to try going in the back.”
“Think it’ll work?” Jason asked.
“I don’t know,” Simon replied, irritably. “But I tell you one think, Jase, I
ain’t hangin’ around here to find out!” He glanced around. “It’s always worked
before, so why not again now?” he mused aloud.
“Flames?” Jason asked, his eyes lighting up. A shared fascination with fire was
one of the things that drew the two young men together.
“Sure. We set the loft alight an’ leave Cartwright here. We’ll make good our
escape while they’re all trying to save him. Course, they won’t succeed.” He
grinned broadly and Joe thought of the saying ‘beauty is only skin deep’.
“I like your thinking, Si,” Jason responded, also laughing.
Horrified, Joe tried to get his feet under him to get away, but Simon saw the
movement and dived at Joe, grabbing him by the jacket collar and throwing a hard
punch into Joe’s face. Joe gasped, but still struggled, so Simon did it again,
but harder. This time Joe slumped down, not unconscious, but very close to it.
Dimly, he heard the others moving, and then the footsteps hurried off somewhere
behind him. After a few moments, he heard the sound he most dreaded – the
crackle of flames!
“Smoke!” Hoss cried, pointing. He drew his gun
and ran over to the barn, Ben, Roy and Clem right on his heels.
They threw open the small side door and through the smoke spotted Simon and
Jason running towards the back of the building. “Stop!” Roy ordered. A bullet
whistling past him was his only answer. None of them hesitated. Simon and Jason
went down.
By then, the fire had a thorough hold of the old, dry, building. The loft ladder
was already ablaze. “Get out of here!” Roy cried. He caught Ben’s arm. “Ben, ya
can’t go in there! The whole place could collapse any minute!”
“But Joe!” Ben cried.
“Ain’t no use, Pa!” Hoss yelled over the noise of the flames. He coughed. “If’n
we don’ git out, we’ll all die!” He used his brute strength to drag his father
from the burning building. They knew that if either Simon or Jason had survived
the shooting, they would have been overcome by smoke.
Outside, Ben fell to his knees, coughing and retching. His agony for Joe was
complete. “Joe,” he whispered.
“Look!” At the shout, everyone turned and looked up, following Adam’s pointing
finger.
The crackling the flames provided Joe with the
stimulus he needed. He fought his bonds, but to no avail. They were not going to
move. “Think,” he urged himself. “Think!” He coughed. Suddenly, Joe knew what he
could do and sat up, painfully threading himself through his bound hands. For a
horrid minute, he thought he wasn’t going to be able to do it, but his natural
athleticism helped him out and finally his hands were in front of him – a marked
improvement.
A single glance at the ladder told Joe he would not be going down that way! The
whole thing was engulfed in flames and as he watched, fascinated, they began to
crawl over the floor towards him. He was totally unaware of the shooting from
below; the noise of the fire was too intense.
There was only one hope and Joe went over to the door and paused. He didn’t care
for heights and the thought of jumping from the loft was daunting. He took
another step closer and salvation appeared. Joe saw the escape rope that Jason
had rigged for himself and Simon.
Joe didn’t hesitate any longer. He could feel the heat of the flames growing
with every moment. He grasped the rope firmly in both hands and swung himself
out of the door.
“Look!” At the shout, everyone turned and
looked up, following Adam’s pointing finger. Silhouetted against the flames was
a dark figure.
“Joe!” Ben gasped and rushed forward as his son jumped from the loft, convinced
that Joe was going to fall to his death.
It took a moment before Ben realised that Joe was holding into a rope and his
heartbeat slowed a fraction. But his relief was short-lived, for suddenly the
fire burst through the door where Joe had been a scant few moments before and
began to eat its way down the rope.
“Joe!” Ben screamed and rushed forward.
Feeling the sudden give in the rope, Joe glanced up and saw that it was giving
way. He dropped a few feet quite suddenly and realised, with horror that he was
going to have to jump for it. But there was no choice. Joe let go and plummeted
to the ground, landing with a sickening thump. The flaming rope coiled down
after him, missing him by some miracle.
By then, Ben was at Joe’s side, knowing he had to move his son to safety, but
terrified that Joe was badly injured and moving him might make everything worse.
Joe’s eyes were shut. Then other hands were there, and Ben saw that Paul Martin
was taking charge and he knelt to help in any way he could. Together, he, Hoss,
Clem and Paul lifted Joe and carried him across to where Adam lay. As they set
the injured young man down, there was a loud crash from behind them as the barn
caved in on itself.
“Joe!” Ben knelt by his son and gently stroked the blood-matted curls back from
his son’s face. He was oblivious to Paul ordering a stretcher and Hoss slicing
through the ropes that held Joe captive. All his attention was fixed on his
son’s pale, unmoving features.
The waiting was driving them crazy. Adam lay on
a couch in the waiting room, a basin strategically placed by his side. He
slipped in and out of an uneasy doze, his head still throbbing mercilessly. The
bouts of nausea seemed to have abated for the moment, but he wasn’t too sanguine
about them not returning. Adam had been concussed before.
Across the room, Hoss slumped in a chair that seemed far too frail to support
his large frame. He had washed his face free of soot at some point and had
tended to Adam when the sickness had hit. Now, he just waited, his anxiety
printed all too clearly on his usually genial face.
Neither brother was able to find the words to reassure the other that Joe would
be all right.
At long last, the door to the surgery opened and their father came out. Hoss was
on his feet without realising, his chair rocking from his precipitous exit.
Adam, too, tried to rise, but as his stomach flipped over nastily, he aborted
the movement. They both looked wordlessly at Ben.
“Your brother is awake,” Ben reported and saw the smiles beginning. “He’s got a
serious concussion, as well as two broken ankles and a broken collarbone.”
“Is he going to be all right?” Adam asked. From inside the room, through the
open door, he could hear Joe coughing.
“Yes, he’s going to be fine,” Ben replied, reassuringly. “He breathed in too
much smoke, but Paul says his lungs sound clear. Come in and see him, and Paul
wants to look you over, too, Adam.” He went over and helped his oldest son to
his feet.
Inside the surgery, Joe lay on the examination table. He was incredibly pale,
his shoulders bound in a figure-8 bandage and his right arm in a sling. The
sheet that covered him was drawn back to his knees, allowing the still-wet
plaster casts the chance to dry. There was a bandage round his head, similar to
the one Adam wore. But he was awake, even if he wasn’t smiling. But the relief
on his face when he saw Adam was evident.
“”You see?” Paul asked. “I told you he was fine. You’ve got to start believing
me, Joe!”
For a few minutes, Adam and Joe just looked at one another as Hoss fussed over
Joe, drawing a wan smile from his little brother while Paul checked Adam’s head.
But apart from a few glances at Hoss and Ben, Joe kept his eyes riveted on his
older brother, who made his way over to Joe’s side as soon as the doctor was
finished with him.
“I never got the chance to apologise properly to you,” Adam said softly as he
sat down by Joe, the ever-present basin on his lap.
“Nor I to you,” Joe agreed. He looked at the basin. “Is that for you or me?” he
asked, for he had thrown up several times since wakening.
“Whichever of us needs it,” Adam replied. “We’ll share; how’s that?” He put his
hand lightly on Joe’s arm. “I am sorry, Joe. I shouldn’t have jumped all over
you like that.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Joe replied and coughed hollowly. He sighed, completely worn
out. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” He moved his good arm and put his hand
on top of Adam’s and squeezed gently.
After a moment, Ben gently intervened. “You need to get a little sleep, both of
you,” he chided them. “Adam, there’s a bed prepared for you over there. Hoss,
you get yourself a room at the hotel for the night.”
“What about ya, Pa?” Hoss asked, frowning.
“Your father will be joining you as soon as these two are settled,” Paul
replied. He held his hand up as Ben started to protest. “My nurse is quite
capable of wakening them every two hours during the night, Ben and you can get
some rest while you can. Joe is going to need a lot of help for a while.” As if
to reinforce that message, Joe leaned over and vomited into the basin on Adam’s
lap. A moment later, his older brother copied him.
“I’ll help you clean this up,” Ben offered as he saw the resigned look on Paul’s
face. “And then I’ll leave you to it.” Together, they cleaned the boys up and
then Ben bid each one a tender goodnight.
With Hoss at his side to make sure he didn’t return to the doctor’s office, Ben
went to the hotel for a much needed sleep.
It was doubtful if any of them got much sleep
that night. Ben was disturbed by visions of Joe silhouetted in the doorway
against the flames, but in his dreams, Joe didn’t always escape. Hoss’ dreams
were more nebulous than that, but woke him regularly all the same. Both Joe and
Adam were wakened every couple of hours all night, and come morning, Joe was
very cranky.
“I think he’d be better off here where I can give him the painkillers he needs
when he needs them,” Paul argued when Ben suggested taking his sons home. “And
it saves me a trip out to the ranch every day.”
For a moment, Ben wavered; he knew how busy Paul was, and the Ponderosa wasn’t
exactly close by. But then his eye fell on Joe, who was saying nothing, but his
face was pinched and white as he thought of being left behind in town. He knew
his family would visit him every day, but it wasn’t the same as being home and
Joe desperately wanted to go home. He wanted to sleep in his own bed and eat Hop
Sing’s cooking. He didn’t want to be lonely and sick in town. He far preferred
being lonely and sick in his own bed, where he knew he was only disrupting the
daily routine a little bit.
Drawing Paul aside, Ben lowered his voice. “If this was Adam we were discussing,
I’d agree, Paul. Adam would make the best of it and recover just as quickly here
as he would at home. But this is Joe we’re discussing and I don’t think its best
for him. He needs to have us as close by as he can. Yes, all right, we might not
be in the house with him, but we’d be on the same ranch, and we both know that,
mentally, that’s better for Joe. He’ll stay here if I insist, but look at him,
Paul. I’m sorry, but I think it’s best if Joe is at home, under my eye. Hop Sing
will keep an eye on the boy if we’re not able to be there. And its not as if
I’ve never nursed a sick child before!” He rolled his eyes as he made this last
statement, for heaven knows, Joe alone had required more nursing than both his
brothers put together!
“You do realise that Joe will be completely dependent on you, Ben, don’t you?”
Paul asked. “There’s very little he can do for himself.”
Smiling, Ben nodded. “And you do remember that Joe is left-handed?” he prompted.
“He’ll be able to do enough for himself. Lord knows, he’s endured worse than
this. At least this time he can pee by himself!” The burst of laughter from the
doctor and Ben made all three sons look at each other, one quizzical eyebrow
raised.
“I give in!” Paul spluttered. “Take him home! I’ll travel the extra miles and
not count the cost!” He shook his head at Ben. “Its all right, I’m teasing. I
think you’re right, Ben. I think Joe will be better off at home. I’ll give you
some painkiller to take back with you, but be careful how you hand them out, all
right? No more than one tablet every four hours.”
“I’ll be careful,” Ben promised. He turned to Joe, who still looked white and
worried. “You’re coming home, son,” he told him and was rewarded with Joe’s
brilliant smile.
Joe’s recuperation was not completely
straightforward. He found it frustrating not being able to get about alone,
although he was extremely grateful that he only required minimal help with his
personal bodily needs. To begin with, he had Adam for company, as his older
brother recovered from the severe concussion he had received. But once Adam was
well again, Joe spent more time alone and he spent a lot of time thinking about
the day he and Adam had quarrelled.
With the passage of time, and the use of 20-20 vision in hindsight, he could see
that Adam had only been worried about Joe’s safety. However, he had expressed it
badly, and Joe had reacted badly. Neither of them had come out of the encounter
with any laurels! The breach had been mended without any lasting recriminations
and Joe vowed once more to think before he spoke or acted. Whether he would ever
manage this miraculous feat he didn’t know, but he intended to try.
A couple of weeks later, Ben came and told him about the outcome of the trial.
Mikey and Steve had both received long stretches in prison for rustling. “What
happened to Simon and Jason?” Joe asked.
“They were shot,” Ben replied. “And we couldn’t get to them because of the fire
in the barn. But when the bodies were recovered, we knew they were killed before
the fire got to them.”
“I wondered,” Joe replied, quietly. “I can never forgive them, Pa. They left me
there to die.” For a moment Joe was silent and Ben prayed fervently that God
would give him the words he needed. “I was never friends with them, exactly,”
Joe mused before Ben could speak. “We got on all right, I suppose, when we were
kids in school. I was enough of a daredevil to earn their respect, I guess. They
never bothered me. I suppose I was in trouble quite a bit.” He grinned at Ben
after that admission. Ben grinned back. It was no secret that Joe had not been
happy in school. An exceptionally clever boy, he had absorbed facts without
noticing and relieved his boredom by playing pranks. Luckily, none of the pranks
had been nasty, and almost every teacher had been charmed by Joe; apart from
Miss Abigail Jones, who had seen Joe as a means to get to his brother Adam, and
had not taken it too kindly when her wiles failed.
“You were pleased to see them when they came home,” Ben remarked, neutrally.
“Yes, I was,” Joe agreed. “But apart from Tuck and Seth,” Joe made a face at the
mention of Seth’s name, “most of my school friends had moved on.” He sighed. “I
guess I was just pleased to be able to help someone I knew. I suppose I coloured
those memories, Pa.”
“Its sometimes hard not to colour memories,” Ben ventured. “I find myself doing
it, too. Oh, don’t get me wrong, Joe, I have a lot of good memories. But I
sometimes find myself looking at people or situations through rose-coloured
glasses and sometimes we pay a penalty for fooling ourselves.” He hesitated for
a moment, unsure if he should venture on, but he saw that Joe had already picked
up that he had something hidden and was waiting for Ben to reveal what it was.
This youngest son of his was all too quick to pick up on unspoken thoughts. “But
I found out the other day that Simon had often set fires when he was young. His
mother’s friend says he tried to set fire to her house one day after she had
refused him another cookie. Luckily, she had caught the fire before it got
going. Simon was whipped for it, and everyone assumed that his love affair with
fire was over. Roy has been asking about Simon, and it seems that everywhere he
went in those years that he was away from town, he had been around when there
had been a major fire. Paul says there’s a word for the condition. Pyro - pyro-something.
I can’t remember what it is. So it seems Simon was sick.”
There was a long silence as Joe assimilated this information. Ben watched him
anxiously throughout. Joe was one of the strongest people he knew, but he wasn’t
sure how his son would take this information.
“I can understand Simon was sick,” Joe said, at last. He lifted his green eyes
to meet his father’s dark gaze. “But I can never understand why he could have
left me there to die. All right, we weren’t the friends I thought we were, but I
couldn’t leave someone alone and helpless to die.”
“I know that, Joe,” Ben assured him, realising that he was holding Joe’s good
hand. “You could never kill a man in cold blood. None of my boys could.” He
patted Joe’s hand. “I’m very proud of all my boys,” he whispered, suddenly close
to tears with that pride.
As he lay down to sleep, Joe thought that he and his brothers had been
incredibly lucky. Granted, others might not think so, given that each boy had
lost his mother at a tender age. But they had had a father who loved them deeply
and had shown them, by example as well as by word, how to behave. Joe hoped that
one day, when he became a real grown-up, he would be just like his pa.
“I hope you’ll be a better man than me,” Ben whispered and Joe was startled to
realise that he had spoken that thought aloud.
Sleepily, Joe reached out for Ben. “You’re the best father ever,” he replied as
the flames of love fanned high in his heart.
The End