Be There A Stranger Among Us?
“Joseph, I mean what I say…ya better back off. Don’t make me hurt ya!” shouted Hoss to his younger brother.
Joe jumped to his feet from where he had fallen in the dirt after Hoss shoved him backwards. His eyes were dark with anger as he leapt at the larger man who stood in front of him. Hoss quickly stepped aside, allowing Joe to fall a second time on his face in the dirt.
Joe twisted his head around and growled angrily at Hoss. “Damn you,” he yelled, once again getting to his feet.
“Aw Joe, cut it out, boy. I didn’t mean what I said, I was just funnin’ ya, that’s all,” complained the bigger of the two brothers.
Joe dusted the dirt from his trousers and flashed a menacing look at Hoss. “I don’t like being called lazy!”
“I didn’t really mean it…but ya hav’ta admit, ya sure ain’t been pullin’ your weight around here. Ya been shuckin’ your duties ever since ya got back from Carson City. And ya ain’t been yourself either; ya been snappin’ and growlin’ like some ole mama bear. What’s ailing ya, Short Shanks?” Hoss ventured to inquire of his brother.
Joe cast angry eyes up at Hoss. “Ain’t nothing ailing me, why don’t you mind your own business?”
Joe turned in a huff, and walked to the barn. He jerked the door opened and entered the dimly lit interior, breathing a sigh of relief that the big oaf had not hit him. The angry young man grabbed his saddle and blanket and quickly saddled his horse. He swung himself up into the leather seat and giving a swift kick to Cochise’s sides, tore out into the bright sunlight, barely missing his oldest brother who was just about to enter the barn.
Adam jumped out of the way, startled by the sudden motion he pressed his back against the nearest post to the door. “Hey, slow down!” he snapped, seeing that it was Joe who raced passed him.
“Get out of the way if ya don’t wanna get mowed down,” barked Joe, kicking hard at his horse.
Joe was gone in a flash, leaving Adam sucking in large gulps of air to fill his lungs. Ben, who had just made his way into the yard as Joe was leaving, joined Hoss at Adam’s side.
“What in blazes was that all about?” demanded Ben.
“That boy!” grumbled Adam. “Nearly knocked me down coming out of the barn. You would have thought the devil was after him, he knows better than to ride an animal like that!” Adam was furious, his dark eyes grew darker and Ben noted the deep scowl on his oldest son’s face that distorted the usual handsome features.
“Yeah Pa, and Joe sure has been outta sorts since he came home. I was just funnin’ him a little while ago and he turned on me somethin’ quick like. Ya got any idey what’s eatin’ at’em?” asked Hoss.
Ben seemed deep in thought and it was several moments before he raised his eyes and looked into the faces of his sons. “No…” Ben scratched his head and followed Hoss and Adam into the barn. “He hasn’t said much to me at all come to think of it. He wasn’t pleased that things didn’t go too well at the sale, but other than that, he’s been unnaturally quiet.”
“And jumpy,” added Adam.
“How so?” Ben questioned as he slung his saddle over Buck’s broad back.
“When I went in to wake him this morning, he was already up and dressed. That in itself was strange, but anyway, he had his back to me, and when I called out to him, he drew down on me…”
Ben’s head shot up, his eyes wide, “HE WHAT?” stammered the surprised father.
Adam led Sport from his stall. “Sure did, surprised the hell out of me, too. When I asked him what he was doing, he got all mad like and told me I’d better not ever sneak up on him like that again. I was surprised that he had his gun in his room with him but I didn’t question him about that, I just tried to explain that I wasn’t sneaking up on him, but he just pushed his way past me and went on downstairs.”
Adam followed Hoss and his father from the barn and turned to mount up. “I just let it drop. I know Joe well enough to know when to back off. It’s like he’s been itching for a fight since the night he came home.”
Adam placed his foot into the stirrup and swung his long leg across his horse’s back. “You might need to have a talk with the boy, Pa, before he pushes me or Hoss too far. I’ll only take so much, even if he is my brother.” Adam kicked gently at Sport’s ribs and tipped his hat to his father. “I’ll see you tonight, Pa.”
“Same goes for me Pa. I don’t wanna hurt the kid, but enough is enough.” Hoss smiled slightly and bid his father bye and followed after Adam.
Ben led his mount to the hitching post and slipped the reins over the railing. His thoughts were on his younger son as he retraced his steps into the house. Adam and Hoss had both been correct; Joe had not been his usual jovial self since returning home from the horse sale over in Carson City. Joe had not gotten the amount he had hoped for from the sale of his mustangs, but it had happened before and was not something that usually pulled the boy down into a state of depression, as such seemed the case. Ben glanced at the clock, noting the hour and decided to follow along after his youngest son in hopes of getting a chance to speak with Joe in private about whatever it was that seemed to be troubling him.
Ben gazed at the horizon, his eyes hungrily searching the meadow for his son. He had ridden from one end of the grassy lowland to the far side and still had not located the boy. Ben’s heart had begun to fill with worry that something might have happened to his youngest and thus the reason for Joe not to be where he had been instructed to work for the day. The cattle below grazed lazily on the spring grasses that covered the meadow in many different hues of greens and yellows. Ben’s eyes racked across the heads of the small herd, catching a movement in the trees on the far opposite side. His heart, beat in relief when he spied Joe mounted on his pinto enter the clearing from the woods. He was just about ready to shout to his son when two more riders joined Joe. Ben quickly refrained from yelling and watched, unobserved by the trio on the other side of the field.
Ben watched silently as he tried to put names to the faces of the two unfamiliar looking men. Ben did not recognize either of them, but thought perhaps that they were new hands, hired by one or the other of his sons. Ben watched as the stranger smiled at his son and then turned, speaking to his partner. A minute later, the two tipped their hats at Joe, turned and rode back into the thick forest behind them.
Ben was puzzled at the exchange but waited, giving the two strangers time to distance themselves from his son, before riding out to speak with Joe. Buck stepped forward but Ben pulled suddenly back on the reins, stopping his horse from taking another step into the clearing. Joe turned his horse away from the herd and rode off in the direction of home. Ben pushed his hat back on his forehead, wondering why Joe chose that direction instead of riding on ahead to make his count of the beef grazing below.
**********
As Ben rode into the yard, he was surprised to see Slim, one of the hands, splashing water from the trough, over his head. Slim turned just as Ben dismounted, catching his boss off guard by the bruises on his face.
“Slim,” Ben asked in an anxious voice, “what in thunder happened to you?” Ben moved in closer to the man’s face to better examine the minor wounds. “Who did this to you?”
Slim glanced sideways at his boss, not sure how to explain to Ben the bruises on his face. The ranch hand hem-hawed around before finding his voice.
“Well?” insisted Ben, helping his hired man into the tack room where first aid medications were kept for such emergencies.
“Hmm…Mr. Cartwright…I don’t rightly know how to tell ya this,” began Slim nervously. “I mean…I suppose it was my fault…not the boy’s…”
Ben stopped dabbing at the cut above the man’s right brow and looked straight into the gray eyes that suddenly could not meet his.
“Slim, I want to know who did this. What boy?” asked Ben. Surely not, Ben reasoned silently, as fear that Joseph might have been the cause for this man’s bloody face.
“Your boy, Mr. Cartwright…Little Joe,” stammered Slim.
“WHAT?” shouted Ben, angrily.
“I didn’t mean to make’em so mad, sir, but he just turned on me like I was nuthin’ and began hittin’ me. He was crazy like, Mr. Cartwright…I…I didn’t do nuthin’ to him, why I didn’t even try to hit’em back, honest,” explained Slim. “And then he fired me…”
“HE WHAT?” stammered Ben, not fully grasping the idea that Joe would have actually done what this man was claiming.
“I’ll be agoin’ now, Mr. Cartwright…if’n ya give me my due pay, sir,” Slim moved Ben’s hands away from his head and watched as the dark cloud of anger worked it’s way into the darker eyes of his boss.
Ben’s head shot upward. “You’re not going anywhere!” he growled.
“But…the boy…he…fired me…”
“The boy…you just wait until I get my hands on ‘the boy’! Who does he think he is?” demanded Ben though he didn’t really expect an answer from his hired help.
“I’m sorry…Mr. Cartwright…”
“Slim, what made Joe so mad? I mean, did you say anything, or do anything…not that I’m blaming you, you understand. I just need to know what set him off.” Ben had taken several deep breaths to bring his anger under control. He had noted the harried look on the workman’s face and feared that the gentleman might think that he held him responsible for his own beating.
“He came ridin’ in here like a madman. Demanded that I take his horse, when I took longer than I reckon he thought was proper, he started shoutin’ at me that if’n I couldn’t do as told, I could get my things and get out.” Slim rubbed his aching jaw and shuffled his feet in the dirt, stirring up a small cloud of dust.
“I suppose I shouldn’t of called him a smart aleck snot nosed kid, ya reckon?” said Slim, giving his boss a crooked little grin.
Ben couldn’t help but smile, “knowing Joseph, probably not, but that still doesn’t give him the right to do this to you. I’m sorry Slim; I’ll have a talk with the boy when he gets back. Did he happen to say where he was headed?”
“He mumbled somethin’ ‘bout goin’ to town. I thought it kinda strange for the boy to take off like he did, what with it being a workday and all…but hey, I wasn’t ‘bout to question the kid, hell no, I was still on the ground,” Slim stated, laughing lightly to himself.
Ben placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, and smiled, “You rest for awhile Slim, then, when you’re up to it, you can get back to work.” Ben turned and started toward the door, anger and worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry about this…”
**********
Ben mounted his horse and headed straight into town. He had to find his son and talk to the boy. Something was very much wrong and Ben was determined to get to the bottom of it before young Joseph managed to get himself into any more trouble. He had managed to anger both of his brothers plus one of the ranch hands and now, even had his father angry with him.
Ben heard the ruckus even before he reached the doors of the Bucket of Blood saloon. He hurried to the front entrance, only to be shoved aside by Nate Barker as the angry man flung wide the double swinging doors.
“Dadburn fool kid!” he bellowed to anyone who would listen. Spying Ben, Nate turned his full attention to the senior Cartwright. “Dadburn fool kid,” he repeated, “Lookit what he dun to me!” shouted the angry man.
Ben had no need to be told to look; anyone within eyesight could see the swelling that was forming around the man’s right eye. It was obviously that the man had been cuffed and good too.
“Hold on a minute Nate, are you saying that Joseph did this to your face?” questioned Ben, puzzled.
“Ya dang tooten he did. Ain’t had no call to cuff me like this either!” grumbled the other man, rubbing the side of his face. “I’ve a good mind to go see Sheriff Coffee and have that brat of yours tossed into the jail!” Nate stuck his finger in Ben’s face, shaking it vigorously, “If’n the boy were mine, a trip to the woodshed would do him a world of good!” Nate turned his back on Ben and hurried on across the street, mumbling under his breath.
Ben shook his head, it seemed that Joseph was on a mission, and that mission was to destroy himself. Angered, Ben pushed opened one side of the twin doors and entered the saloon. His eyes opened wide at the destruction that had taken place inside the establishment. Tables were over turned, chairs rested upside down as well, a few were even missing much needed legs and broken glass lay scattered about mingling with the splinters of wood from the broken furniture.
“Well howdy, Ben,” smirked the barkeeper. “How nice of you to drop by!”
Ben didn’t much like the tone of voice the barkeep had taken toward him, but decided that if his son had done this much damage to his place of business, Ben could hardly blame the man for being upset.
“Did Joseph do all of this?” Ben waved his arm in the air, indicating the destruction that had been done.
“Yap, and the way I figure it, it should cost about two-hundred dollars to fix the place.”
Ben glanced at the owner’s hand, which was outstretched, and then into the man’s face.
“That much?” scuffed Ben.
“Yap, that much,” the barkeep met Ben’s angry glare and smiled.
Ben sighed deeply as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a wad of bills and began counting them out, placing them carefully into the man’s opened hand. When the exact amount had been paid, Ben folded the remainder up and shoved the bills into his pocket.
“Any idea where Joe might have gone?” he asked humbly.
“Nope, he didn’t take time to tell me, and I sure didn’t take the time to ask. Look, Mr. Cartwright, it ain’t none of my business…but…”
Ben glared at the man; he was furious with his youngest offspring and took his anger out on the man before him. “You’re right!” shouted Ben at the top of his lungs; “it ain’t none of your business!”
Ben turned on his heels and stomped out of the saloon. He looked up and down the street, hoping to see Joe’s horse about. Ben glanced at the sun, guessing that it was near suppertime and quickly grabbed Buck’s reins and mounted up. He had decided to go home where he hoped his youngest son had decided to go, and besides, he told himself, he was hungry.
**********
Adam and Hoss reined in their mounts and dismounting led the horses to the barn. Hoss, stopping in his tracks, allowed the air in his lungs to expel in exasperation. “Adam, will ya lookit this?” grumbled Hoss.
Adam moved in next to Hoss and stopped. He whistled softly, “What the hell is wrong with that kid?” snapped Adam, disgusted with what he was seeing. “Joe knows better than to leave his horse standing in a sweat like this.”
Hoss led Chubb into his stall and quickly unsaddled his horse. He then turned to Cochise and ran his hands down the front shoulder of his brother’s horse. “Lookit, poor animal is lathered.”
“Damn fool kid.” Adam slung his saddle over the railing and turned to Hoss. “Take care of Sport for me, will you Hoss, I’ll be right back.”
Hoss never got the chance to reply; Adam took off at a run for the house, throwing the door open wide as he entered. “JOSEPH!” shouted Adam at the top of his voice. “GET YOUR BUTT DOWN HERE NOW!”
Joe finally appeared at the top of the steps, standing only in his trousers and boots, his shirttail free from his pants and unbuttoned. “What do you want?” Joe snapped, angry for having been disturbed.
Adam, his anger plainly showing on his face, stomped over to the bottom of the steps. “Get down here, now,” he said through gritted teeth.
Joe swallowed, noted the look in his brother’s eyes and slowly descended the stairs. “What’s ailing you?” he asked, somewhat meekly.
Adam placed his hand on Joe’s slim shoulder and squeezed, making Joe scrunch up his face. “Hey!” he stammered and tried to pull away.
“Hey nothing…just tell me why you left a lathered horse standing unattended in the barn? You know better than that, you little fool,” growled Adam, his dark ebony eyes dancing with unleashed fury.
“Who you calling a fool?” barked Joe as he wrenched free from his brother’s grasp and walked away, turning his back to his older brother.
Adam grabbed Joe by the arm and spun him around, “you best listen up little boy. If Pa comes home and sees how you’ve treated that horse you were always so proud of, he might not think twice about tanning your butt, I don’t care if you are nineteen years old. Now get to the barn and take care of that animal,” ordered Adam leading Joe to the opened door and not too gently shoving him outside.
Joe turned the second that he felt his brother loosen his grip on his arm. He was about to open his mouth and make a smart retort, but seeing the dangerous look in the dark eyes, changed his mind.
“Okay, okay…sorry…I’ll take care of him.” Joe stomped off toward the barn before Adam had another chance to grumble at him.
Hoss had removed Joe’s saddle and was wiping the sweaty animal down by the time that Joe entered the barn. Hoss glanced up; his eyes were dark with anger and seemed to be shooting daggers at the boy.
Joe glanced at the ground, unable to find words for his brother. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll finish,” he stammered.
Hoss stood to his feet and propped his elbow along the lower part of Cochise’s neck. “Tell me somethin’ Joseph, what the blazes has gotten into ya?” Hoss pointed at the pinto. “You’ve always been crazy about this here animal, why ya doin’ him this way now? Don’t ya know ya could make him sick, leavin’ him standin’ like ya did, without so much as takin’ ya saddle of’em?”
Joe grabbed the blanket from his brother’s large hands and began rubbing the animal where Hoss had left off. “Aw, I was planning on coming back out and tending to him. I just needed to do a couple of things first, that’s all.”
Hoss stepped out of the way and placed his hands on his hips. “You know what Pa says…” he began.
Joe jerked his head up and glared at his brother. “No, what does the old man say?”
Hoss’ blue eyes went black with anger. He stepped to within inches of his younger brother’s face and pointed his finger at Joe, shaking it under Joe’s nose. “Joseph, if’n I were you, I’d be careful about how I spoke about our father. Your just about this far from havin’ that jaw of yours broken!”
Joe tossed the blanket to the ground and balled his hands into tight fists. “Come on big man, you don’t scare me!”
Hoss’ anger at his defiant little brother had passed the boiling point. Before Joe could even bat an eye, Hoss’ massive fist connected with the smaller man’s jaw. Joe was knocked into the wall; his head instantly began to throb but though dazed, threw himself at his brother. Hoss caught Joe in his arms and shoved him backward, just enough to deliver a second punch to the other side of Joe’s face. Joe crumbled to the ground, groaning, but refused to stay down.
“You oversized ox,” he spat at Hoss as he lowered his head and charged into Hoss’ mid-section.
Hoss wavered slightly as Joe pushed his weight into his brother’s stomach. “Dadburnit, Little Joe, will ya stop!”
“WHAT’S THE MEANING OF THIS? STOP IT THIS MINUTE!”
There was no denying the man behind the deep roaring voice. Both Hoss and Joe stopped fighting immediately as Ben moved to stand between his two sons. He glared first at Hoss and then turned to face Little Joe.
“Hoss,” Ben said, never taking his eyes off his youngest son.
“Yes sir?” Hoss replied in a small voice.
“Will you kindly explain what is going on here?” Ben turned back to Hoss. Joe moved to walk away, but his father grabbed his arm. “You stay right where you are, young man,” ordered Ben, tightening his grip on Joe’s upper arm.
“Sit!” he ordered his youngest as he pointed to a box.
“Hoss, I’m waiting,” snapped Ben.
“Hmm…well…Pa…me and Adam came home a little while ago and…well…Cochise was standin’ here all sweaty like…and…”
“And I went to the house and made Joe get his lazy butt out here to care for his horse,” finished Adam who had come in as Hoss was explaining about the condition of Joe’s pinto.
Ben turned dark angry eyes at his youngest son. He could barely trust his voice enough to speak. “Go to your room, Joseph, NOW!” bellowed Ben. “I will be up shortly.”
Joe stood to his feet, his own anger surfacing rapidly. “Go to my room? You gotta be kidding?” he growled.
Hoss’ eyes bugged out; Adam’s lower jaw went slack. He could hardly believe his ears; Joe defying their father in such a rude manner was unheard of.
Ben stepped face to face with Joe, his body quivering with pent-up rage. In a voice so deep that it seemed non-existent, he spoke slowly, “do I look like I’m joking?”
Joe’s gaze never waived from his father’s, which surprised both of his older brothers. Joe opened his mouth to speak, but saw the way in which Ben’s lips pressed tighter together and thought better of it.
Without uttering a word, Joe stepped around his father and headed toward the house. Adam swapped concerned looks with Hoss and then moved to stand beside of his father.
“Are you all right, Pa?” he asked softly.
Ben glanced up at Adam then Hoss, turning to look over his shoulder. “JOSEPH!” he shouted, running for the barn door and surprising the two brothers who scrambled to get out of their father’s way.
Joe, mounted on a roan mare that one of the hands had just tied to the hitching post, rounded the corner of the barn just as Ben stepped from it. Dust was floating down from the small cloud stirred up by the charging hooves that flew past him.
Ben could hardly control his shaking; never in all of his life had his youngest son made him so furious. Ben was just about ready to explode, his fists were drawn up into tight knots, his breathing was labored and when he turned, his other two sons could see the anger that billowed up just beneath the surface of their father’s caliginous eyes.
“Pa,” Adam said quickly, “just let him go. He’ll be back home later. By then all of us would have had time to cool off.”
Ben shook his head in disgust and gave Adam a doubtful look. He turned, unable to voice his thoughts and marched to the house. Adam turned to face Hoss and noted the distressed expression on his larger brother’s face. He could not refrain from placing a reassuring hand on the big fella’s shoulder.
“Try not to worry Hoss, everything will work out, in time,” offered Adam, hoping to take some of the worry from his brother’s expression.
Hoss shook his head, digging his toe into the dirt, he glanced toward the house. “I don’t know Adam; I ain’t ever seen our Pa look so broken. He’s worried sick, that’s for sure…and Little Joe…why Adam, somethin’s bad wrong with’em, the way he’s actin’ and all. If I didn’t know no better, I’d think maybe…naw…forget it,” mused Hoss.
“Hey big guy, whatever is eating at our little brother, he better get worked out pretty soon. Pa is not going to tolerate his insolence much longer. Can you believe his nerve? I always said that, that boy had more guts than most men,” Adam brushed his fingers through his hair and gave Hoss a small crooked smile. “Joe sure isn’t short on nerve, is he?”
“Naw, but that short fuse of his’n has already started a blaze; did ya see the look in Pa’s eyes when Joe asked him if he were kiddin’? I dang near had a heart attack when he said that…Adam…” Hoss hesitated briefly, “I’m worried about Little Joe…I mean…this ain’t funny, what’s he adoin’”
“I know that Hoss, and I’m worried too. Joe isn’t his self that’s for sure. I sure would like to know what happened at that sell,” Adam stated, moving to close the barn door before going to the house.
**********
Ben paced the floor; his anger had lessened somewhat since the early evening when Joe had ridden out of the yard. He pulled back the curtain that covered the window behind his desk, knowing full well that he could see nothing due to the darkness that had over taken the last rays of evening light. Ben heard himself sigh; he was worried, about Joseph.
It was late when Joe rode into the yard. The moon lit the night giving Joe just the right amount of light needed to see his way to the barn. He quietly eased opened the heavy barn door and led his mount inside. Cochise nickered softly as Joe paused to scratch at the velvety softness of his pinto’s nose. Sudden guilt washed over the young man and he hung his head in shame.
“I’m sorry Cochise; I didn’t mean to neglect you like I did.” Joe gently ran his hands down the horse’s long silky neck and leaned his head against the softness. “You are a beautiful animal, I promise you, it won’t happen again.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Joe whirled around, pivoting on his toes until he stood face to face with his father. As he glanced up he noted that the raging anger that he had seen earlier in his father’s eyes, was now gone, replaced by what could be recognized as worry.
At a loss for words, Joe moved past Cochise and led the roan into the vacant stall and began removing the saddle.
“Joseph,” began Ben, willing his voice to remain steady though inside of himself, he could feel the tremors that begged for release.
“Pa, look…I’m sorry…about everything.” Joe turned to face his father. “I shouldn’t have done what I did, I know that…and I’m sorry. Do we have to talk about this tonight? I’m tired and I all I want now is to go to bed.”
“You’re sorry? Joseph, do you think that just by saying ‘I’m sorry’, everything will be all right? Do you realize what all you have managed to do today? You have wreaked havoc from here to Virginia City. Please tell me what has been going through your mind!” Ben stood facing his son, Joe’s features barely visible in the dim glow that the moon still cast in to the doorway of the barn.
Joe pushed his way past his father avoiding looking into the dark eyes that followed his every move. “I don’t know…okay? I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? What kind of an answer is that, young man?” snapped Ben, feeling his anger begin to surface. Perhaps his son had been right, maybe they needn’t talk about this tonight; some things might better be settled after a night’s rest.
Ben stepped close to Joe, who had turned his back to his father, and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Son, you’re right, we’ll talk about this in the morning. Why don’t you go on in and get some rest. I’ll finish taking care of things in here for you.”
Ben felt the tension that had hardened the muscles across Joe’s shoulder blade and gently applied pressure. He was surprised when Joe moved away from the tender touch and without another word or glance in his father’s direction, walked out of the barn.
Ben allowed his hand to fall heavily to his side and sighed deeply. His youngest son’s behavior was still a mystery and though he had hoped to get to the bottom of whatever was causing the boy such inner turmoil, nothing had been settled this night. Ben turned to the care of the horse that Joe had ridden and quickly finished tending to the animal.
Silently, Ben sat on the edge of his bed and pulled his boots from his feet, rubbing away the soreness from the bottom of his soles. His mind allowed his thoughts to wander and immediately he recalled the scene in the meadow where Joe had met with the two unknown riders. Ben wondered how the strangers played into Joe’s misconduct and irritating mood swings. He would question Adam in the morning about the odd characters to see if perhaps he might have hired the men and forgotten to tell him that they had been added to the payroll. The payroll! There was another thing to worry about, sighed Ben as sleep fought to claim him.
**********
“Morning, Boss,” greeted Slim, looking none the worse for wear. “I dun got your horse saddled for you.”
“Thank you Slim. How is that head of yours this morning?” Ben questioned as he gathered Buck’s reins into his hand.
Slim nodded his head, giving Ben a crooked smile. “Aw, tweren’t nothing, Mr. Cartwright. It didn’t hurt much, ‘sides, it’d take a lot more’n that young buck’s fist to put me down and keep me down. Don’t ya worry yourself none about me.”
Ben swung into his saddle and turned Buck. “Well, just see that you take it easy today. By the way, have you seen that young buck this morning?”
“Sure ‘nough. He was up and gone bright and early…stopped by to tell me that he was sorry about yesterday too, he did,” smiled Slim as he moved away from Ben’s horse.
“He did?” Ben was surprised to hear the news, though he shouldn’t have been. Joe was a man who, once realizing his mistakes, always took the time to try to make things right.
“Yes siree, he did,” beamed the ranch hand. “Well, boss, I got work to do, don’t wanna get fired again today,” he laughed softly as he moved into the tack room and began straightening things up.
“Pa! Wait up,” Adam shouted, rushing from the house.
Ben had just started to nudge his horse forward when the sound of his son’s deep voice reached his ears. “What’s wrong, Adam?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I was just wondering if you were going into town to talk to Roy about that payroll shipment that’s coming in on tomorrow’s stage. We need extra men to ride guard once it’s taken off the stage,” replied Adam.
“That’s where I was headed. I plan on using some of our own men to help guard it while it’s being transported out here. I’ll feel better about it with our own people riding with us.”
“That’s a good thought, Pa. Tell Roy I said hello.” Adam gave his father a flashing smile and stepped back from the horse. “Be careful,” he added.
“I plan to…oh, Adam, by the way. You didn’t happen to hire a couple of new men to help out with the herd in the north pasture did you?” Ben questioned.
“New men? No sir, I haven’t hired anyone is several weeks. Didn’t see any need to. Why, is something wrong Pa?” Adam noted the uncertain expression that had embedded itself into his father’s features.
“Wrong?” muttered Ben, disturbed by the images of his son as he conversed with the two strangers the day before. “No, nothing’s wrong, I was just wondering, that’s all.”
No sense in worrying Adam about his doubts until he could speak with Joe and find out first hand who the strangers were and what they had been up too.
“I’ll be back by noon, son. Will you tell Hoss to have some men ready to stand guard when that payroll gets here?”
“Done, did that,” beamed Hoss as he joined Adam to bid their father goodbye.
Ben smiled down at his two oldest sons. He could always rely on these two, he thought to himself, comforted by their silent strength and loyalty. Suddenly the reassuring feeling vanished as Joe’s face fluttered in front of his mind’s eye. ‘Joseph’, his heart cried.
**********
Ben had spent the morning searching the north meadow for his youngest son. When his search ended up with finding nothing other than droppings, showing that a horse had passed that way, Ben turned his horse away from the small herd that grazed leisurely. Following the tracks that led in the opposite direction, Ben crept slowly along, inspecting every inch of the ground until he spied what he had been looking for. Quickly pulling his horse to a stop, Ben dismounted and surveyed the ground, being careful not to destroy the signs. It was as he suspected; Joe’s horse had stopped here and had been joined by another. Ben could see where the two individuals had dismounted and moved around, leaving booted footprints in the dirt. When the tracks seemed to move clear of the area, Ben followed along on foot. Suddenly he stopped for sprawled face down in the tall grasses, nearly hidden from view lay a man.
Ben dropped the reins and rushed to the man’s still form. Gently he turned the man over. It was plain to see that the man had been shot in the chest at close range. Blood seeped from the deep hole just above the man’s heart where it covered the entire front of the faded shirt that the man wore.
Ben placed his fingers to the man’s neck, seeking a pulse. Much to his relief, his fingers felt the weak beating action that he had hoped to find. Ben raised the man’s head just enough to rest it on his lap. The wounded man moaned in pain and slowly opened his eyes, finding the face of the man who held him tenderly.
Ben watched as the man tried to speak his voice sounding weak and full of pain.
“Shh…take it easy mister. Can you tell me your name?” Ben asked as he removed his neck scarf with his free hand and stuffed it into the gashing hole that had ripped apart the man’s flesh.
“B…Bart…oh…it hurts…” whined the man.
“I know, just try to hang on.” Ben glanced around him, hoping to find someone who could help him. Bart groaned and Ben felt the man’s body arch slightly as pain coursed through him. When Ben glanced again into the man’s face, Bart had closed his eyes, his breathing had become shallow and Ben knew that the man’s time was soon to come.
“Bart…Bart…” urged Ben.
Bart’s eye lashes fluttered as he struggled to open his eyes.
“Can you tell me who did this to you? Who shot you?” Ben had lowered his head. Bart had begun to mumble and his voice was so low that it was almost impossible for Ben to hear the man’s words.
“Who Bart? Who shot you?”
“The…boy…” stammered the dying man, his eyes closing slightly.
“What boy?” Ben pushed the man for an answer, knowing that the man would die; he needed information to take back to town with him. Something for the sheriff to go on, a name.
“Bart, listen to me…I have to know who shot you…so that the sheriff can arrest him. Try Bart…try,” encouraged Ben.
Bart raised his hand slowly over his head and seemed to be pointing at something in the distance. His eyes had found Ben’s and Ben noted the frightened look that swallowed away the color from the irises.
“J…Joe…Cart…wri…t.”
His hand fell limply to the ground. Bart took his last breath, his voice faded and his head fell against the chest of the startled man who held him within his arms.
The color drained from Ben’s face. His breathing became labored as he tried to absorb the man’s last words. His dark chocolate eyes stared out at nothing, while his mind brought a picture of the face of his youngest son before his blinded eyes.
Joseph? Had he heard correctly? Had the man’s dying words named his son as killer?
‘NO!’ screamed Ben’s heart. ‘It can’t be true…not Little Joe…not his sweet, green eyed little impish son that he had nurtured all of his life and loved more than life itself,’ wept the disheartened father.
Ben sucked in large gulps of air to fill his lungs and steady his trembling. Ben glanced down at the dead man and wondered who he had been and why had he named his youngest son as the man who had fired the shot that had ended a life. Getting slowly to his feet, Ben placed the man’s head on the ground and grabbed his bedroll. Within minutes, Ben had the body securely wrapped and laid across his saddle. Ben mounted behind the corpse and turned his horse toward Virginia City. Before he had ridden less than half a mile, Ben changed directions and went instead, back to the ranch. He had to talk to Adam and Hoss; they had to find Joe and figure out what was going on.
**********
As Ben rode into the yard and guided his horse to the hitching rail, Hoss and Adam came from the barn and quickly made their way to Ben’s side.
“Who’s this?” asked Hoss as he pulled the corner of the blanket up to see the man’s face.
“Bart somebody…he didn’t get time to tell me his last name,” replied Ben as he stared at his two sons. “Either of you ever see him before?”
“No sir,” answered Hoss moving to allow Adam room to look at the man.
“Me neither. How’d he die?”
“Shot at close range, bullet hit him just above the heart. Either of you seen Little Joe?” Ben asked, his voice deep with foreboding.
Adam glanced at Hoss and then back at his father. “No. Why, something wrong?”
“This man claims that it was your brother who shot him and left him for dead,” Ben stated flatly with no emotion. “Take care of the body for me, will you please. I need a drink.”
Both young men stared at their father’s broad back as he walked slumped shouldered, toward the house. Adam grabbed Buck’s reins from around the post and glared at Hoss.
“I’d like to know what in the hell is going on around here,” he muttered as he led his father’s horse to the barn.
The three Cartwrights rode their horses down the middle of Virginia City’s main street toward the sheriff’s office. A horse bearing the body of the dead man followed behind the last horse. Ben stopped in front of the building and started to dismount just as Roy was coming from his office.
“Well howdy there, Ben. Who do you have with you?” questioned Roy, walking slowly over to the corpse that stretched across the back of the horse. He slowly lifted the blanket and studied the man’s face. “Don’t believe I know this one. Got and idey who he is?”
“Said his name was Bart. He died before he was able to tell me his last name.” Ben had dismounted and stood to Roy’s right.
“What happened to him?”
“Gun shot to the chest, at close range,” explained Ben then glanced up at his sons who had remained on their horses.
“Any idey who kilt him?” Roy let the blanket down to cover the dead man’s head and turned to his deputy. “Take care of this for me, will ya Clem?”
Ben shuffled his feet in the dirt, hesitating to give out the information. He cut his eyes up at Adam and suddenly felt the pit of his stomach churn. Ben was forced to close his eyes, forcing the picture of his youngest son’s face from his mind.
“Ben, you all right?” asked Roy, seeing the strange expression that washed the color from his friend’s face.
“The man claimed that Joe shot him and left him for dead,” stammered Ben.
“What!” Roy practically shouted. “Ya don’t mean Little Joe?”
Hoss swung his long leg across his saddle and stepped up to Roy and his father. “That’s right Roy, he said Little Joe, but the man was alyin’, I know, I jist know he was. Little Joe wouldn’t go around shootin’ somebody and jist leave’em to die like that.”
The sheriff turned to Ben, noting the haggard look on Ben’s tired face. “Let’s go into my office.” Roy opened the door and allowed Ben and his son’s to enter first and then followed, shutting the door firmly behind him.
“Now, Ben, let’s see if we can get to the bottom of this. Where is Little Joe and what does he have to say about how this happened?” Roy seated himself at his desk as the others found seats in front of the desk.
Ben took a deep breath and slowly began from the beginning, starting with the day that Joe returned from the sale of his horses in Carson City. Joe had seemed irritated from the first day. Things hadn’t gone as expected for him; he had not gotten the price he had hoped for, for the mustangs that he had worked so hard to round up and then break to saddle. He had argued with his brothers, constantly and had been short tempered with his father. Ben explained to the sheriff about Joe’s meeting with the strange men when he should have been working the herd in the north pasture. Roy had been aware of the fight that had cost Ben a large sum of money to restore the saloon down the street. Ben explained that Joe had gotten angry with one of the new ranch hands and had even fought with the man, leaving the man’s face bloody and bruised. He did inform Roy that Joe had, however, apologized to the man the next morning. Roy’s dark brows drew downward when Hoss told him how Joe had mistreated his horse, leaving the animal standing in a sweat in the barn. His eyes turned dark as Adam explained about the morning that he had stepped into Joe’s bedroom to wake him and Joe drew his pistol on his brother.
Several moments passed before Roy found his voice. He stood to his feet and strolled to the window, peeking out at the people moving about on the street. Finally, he turned to Ben.
“Ben, ya say ya don’t have any idey where Little Joe is now?” he asked, turning back to face the worried father.
Ben shook his head. “No Roy, but I wish I had.”
The man’s attention was drawn from the matter at hand by a ruckus down the street. Clem burst into the office, his face a mixture of excitement and anger rolled into one.
“Ya better get out here Roy, that payroll that was supposed to come in on tomorrow’s stage came in on today’s. What’s left of it,” he added, stepping aside as Ben and his sons hurried to follow Roy from the office.
Each man took off running down the street toward the stage depot. Jake was climbing down from the front. His face was dusty and dirty, his shirt had been ripped and blood oozed from a wound in his left arm.
Adam jerked opened the stage door and peered inside. Three men, the ones assigned to guard the shipment lay sprawled about on the seats. One man was dead, another was just about to join his comrade and the third was moaning loudly.
“What happened, Jake?” Hoss asked, helping the man down from his perch. “They come’d outta nowhere. There were four of them; they surprised us just north of the cut off to Virginia City. We didn’t have a chance, Mr. Cartwright. I’m…sorry about your money,” stammered the weakened man.
Ben gently placed his hand on the man’s arm. “It’s all right Jake; you did the best you could.” Turning, he called out. “Somebody get this man to the doctor’s.” Several hands reached around the wounded stage driver and started to help take him to the doctor’s office.
“Jake,” Roy called out. “Which way did they go?”
“North, up toward the canyon,” he managed to say before passing out.
Adam turned to his father, pulling him off to the side. “Pa, how did they know that we switched days for the delivery of that payroll?”
Ben seemed to suddenly snap to attention. “That’s right son, how did they know.”
“Sounds to me like someone tipped them off,” whispered Hoss who had joined his father and brother on the boardwalk.
“But who?” Adam puzzled and then turned to stare into his father’s anxious face. “Pa, do you think that the man you brought in today might have had something to do this holdup?”
“And where’s Little Joe, Pa…ya don’t reckon he might have found out somehow what was going to happen and tried to stop it do you? Could be why he shot that man,” reasoned Hoss, taking every opportunity available to exonerate his brother.
Ben brushed the back of his hand against Hoss’ arm, “That might be so. Come on, we need to find Joseph. I found Bart up near that canyon that Jake was talking about, that means that Joe must have been in the same area. Come on, let’s ride.”
Ben turned to mount his horse but stopped when he felt the pressure of a hand on his arm. “Are you and your boys riding with me, Ben? I’m forming a posse,” asked Roy.
Ben glanced into the faces of his sons and saw that they agreed. “You can count on us Roy. But we’ll join you at the mouth of the canyon; I need to see if I can find Joe first. I have an idea that he’s involved in all this mess somehow.”
“All right Ben, I’ll meet the three of you in about two hours at the canyon. Good luck,” Roy added. “Okay, men, let’s mount up.”
Ben waited until the group of men moved clear away from them before turning to Adam and Hoss who had already mounted their horses. “What are we gonna do, Pa?” inquired Hoss.
“We’re going to find your brother.” Ben swung into the saddle and turned Buck. “Let’s ride.”
*********
The posse rode quickly to the spot where the stage had been stopped. Roy and another man in the group dismounted and searched the area for any clues that might tell them who the men were. It didn’t take long to figure out which direction the bandits had taken, tracks were everywhere and the posse rushed onward, following more carefully this time so as not to lose the trail.
Further along the path, Ben and his sons had picked up the bandit’s trail as well. They had started out looking for Joe, but when they happened upon the tracks of the robbers they chose to follow, thinking that somehow their missing family member might have stumbled into trouble. They rode steadily, pushing their horses only slightly, always keeping their eyes open for signs that would tell them when the outlaws had varied from the trail.
Hoss led the group; his keen eyes and natural tracking instinct automatically qualified him for the job. Ben followed behind his middle son and Adam brought up the rear, keeping a sharp lookout over his shoulder.
Hoss pulled his mount to a stop, raising his hand to signal for the others to remain silent. Quickly, Hoss slipped from his horse and crouched on the ground. He glanced back at his father and brother and motioned for them to join him.
Ben squatted down next to Hoss and peered through the thick bushes at the band of men who stood around in a small clearing. The group of the men seemed to be arguing with the others. It was evident to the three men who watched that a fight was just about ready to break out.
“Pa!” Hoss nearly shouted as he pointed to a man who moved out from behind some large boulders and joined the group.
“Am I seein’ things, or is that Little Joe?” he whispered in a hoarse voice, his blue eyes wide in wonder as they stared at the back of his younger brother. There was no denying the fact that the young man who had his back to them was indeed Joe, Hoss gulped and glanced at his father.
Ben’s face went white, the color drained instantly and Adam noted that his father’s hands had begun to tremble.
Adam knelt beside of this father, resting a hand on Ben’s shoulder. He shook his head slowly and whispered; his voice deep with concern by what his eyes were seeing. “Pa, what in the world is Joe doing with this band of no-goods?”
Ben turned to stare into his son’s face, shaking his head as well. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” Ben stated and then turned to watch as voices began to grow in volume.
“I say we divide the money now and go our separate ways,” one man shouted.
“I agree with Matt; let’s divide the money, and split up. It’ll make it harder for the posse to track us if we go in different directions,” another man yelled.
“Pa…ain’t that Slim?” whispered Hoss, pointing to the man who worked for them and who had claimed to have fought with Joe.
“Sure is, wonder how he is tied into this mess,” Ben replied.
“Pa, we better do something, look, they’re counting out the money,” muttered Adam.
Ben made a few movements with his hands, directing his sons to move to different spots where they could make a circle of sorts around the four men who were arguing amongst themselves.
“Be careful, Joe is in the middle of this,” warned Ben as Adam and Hoss moved away from him to take their places among the bushes. “I’ll give the signal.”
“What about you Cartwright, you gonna take your share?” Slim asked Joe.
Joe glanced around at the men, “Yeah, I want what’s due me,” he smirked.
The man, who had been referred to as Mat, stepped forward, glaring angrily at Joe.
“Cartwright here don’t get a share,” he said in a voice that rang with venom. “The kid here tried to double cross us.”
The others stopped arguing and turned to hear what their partner had to say. Mat glanced around at his audience as his hand slipped unseen to his side resting lightly on his gun.
An evil grin spread across Mat’s face. “I’ll give you what’s due you. You tried to cheat us. Remember the other day in the meadow, you were supposed to give us the time change. You lied, Cartwright. If’n it hadn’t of been for Slim overhearing your old man and that high and mighty brother of yours talking about the switch, we’d have never known that the stage was carrying the payroll a day early. You thought you were smart enough to fool us, well, this is what ya got comin’ to ya.”
Mat pulled his gun from his holster and before Joe had time to react, fired two shots into his mid-section. Joe’s eyes widened in horror as the bullets pierced his flesh. Bright red spots quickly soaked into his shirt as Joe tumbled to the ground.
Ben began shooting. From the opposite side he could hear Hoss’ gun and Adam’s joined in. Ben’s eyes remained on his fallen son, frightened beyond reason that his son lay dead. Several more shots where fired, from behind them, Ben heard loud shouting that told him that the posse had found them and were moving in on the band of men.
The fight was over almost as soon as it had begun. Two of the outlaws lay face down on the cold ground; Slim clutched his shoulder where a bullet had ripped open a gaping hole.
From the sidelines, Ben quickly made his way to his wounded son’s side, stumbling in his haste to reach his son.
“JOSEPH!” wept Ben as he gathered Joe into his arms. “Oh son,” cried Ben, his eyes filling with tears as he stared in shock at the ashen face.
Adam and Hoss rushed to their father’s side. Adam groaned as he pulled opened Joe’s jacket and then the shirt beneath it, spying the blood that seeped from the two holes in the middle of his brother’s stomach. Adam glanced up at his father, noting the anguish in the dark, tear filled eyes.
“How bad is it?” asked Hoss, kneeling down next to Adam.
Adam shook his head sadly, and glanced at Hoss.
“Pa?…Is that you?” the desperate plea was barely audible.
“Joseph…why son? Why?” cried Ben as he cradled his son in his arms.
Ben fought to control his tears, willing himself not to cry in front of his dying son. He had seen the two huge holes, the flesh ripped and torn, bleeding profusely. Ben knew that having been shot at such close range, into the gut, nothing could save his beloved son now.
Joe’s eyes fluttered as he struggled to maintain contact with his father. His hand searched for a handhold as it groped the air. Ben grabbed for the flailing hand and held it clutched tightly within his.
“Why, son?” begged Ben. He had to know why his son had deemed it necessary to steal from his own father, why he had left a wounded man to die, and why, oh why had he betrayed his family.
“Mo…ney…I needed…the…m…” Joe’s voice faded. His eyelids flickered slightly, the bloodied body arched as the life slipped from Ben’s youngest son.
“JOE!” Hoss yelled as he shook the body of his brother.
“NO!” screamed Ben from the top of his voice, his head tossed backward as he voiced his agony. “NO! NOT MY BABY!” he welled and then his upper body moved downward, covering the lifeless body of his youngest son.
Huge teardrops slid slowly down Hoss’ cheeks as he watched his father weeping. His huge shoulders heaved as Hoss’ grief overtook him. Adam’s face was buried in the palm of his hand as he willed himself to remain strong and steadfast for his family.
Roy motioned for Clem to gather the other bodies and the bandit who was left standing and transport them to the Virginia City jail. He stood silently, his heart beating rapidly as he watched his best friend, slowly slide his arms under his son’s body and stand to his feet, Joe held lovingly within the folds of his father’s arms.
Adam placed a hand on Hoss’ shoulder, bringing his brother’s tear stained face upward to meet his. “Let’s go Hoss. Pa needs us,” he muttered, helping his distraught brother to his feet.
Ben had moved to his horse and had carefully laid Joe’s body on the ground. He was removing his bedroll as his two older sons joined him.
“Pa, let me do it for you,” Adam softly said, trying to remove the blanket from his father’s hands, which still trembled.
Ben shook his head and glanced down at the still form. “I will take care of him, he’s my son.” Ben turned from Adam and spread the blanket opened next to the lifeless form. He squatted down, lovingly brushing back the dark curls from Joe’s forehead.
Adam and Hoss stood in respectful silence as they watched their father caress the face of his youngest son. A sob caught in Hoss’ throat as he looked into the solemn face of his grieving parent.
“Pa?” whispered Hoss as he started to kneel down.
Ben’s hand brushed at the air behind him, halting Hoss’ movements. Hoss cast anxious eyes back at Adam who slowly shook his head at his brother.
Ben gently moved Joe’s body onto the blanket, being as careful as he could. He reached slowly for first one side of the blanket and brought it across the chest, then repeated the process with the other side. Ben’s tears dripped from his chin as he worked the rope around the corpse and formed neat knots that would ensure the blanket to remain in place during the long ride home.
Ben brushed the tears from his eyes and motioned for Adam and Hoss to help him place the body across his son’s saddle. Roy had found Joe’s horse tied among the bushes where the thieves had tied theirs and he stood in remorseful silence as Adam and Hoss affixed their brother’s body to the horse.
“Ya want me to take him for ya?” he asked Adam softly.
Adam shook his head no as he took the reins from the sheriff’s hand. “No, we’ll take him home where he belongs.”
Roy heard the catch in Adam’s voice as the oldest son struggled with his emotions.
“Roy, when you get back to town, will you have Doc Martin come out?” Adam glanced at his father who sat like a statue on his horse. “I think Pa’s going to need some help getting through this,” Adam glanced at his middle brother, Hoss had his head buried in Chubb’s neck and was weeping. “Probably Hoss too, Roy,” Adam said sadly.
**********
The house was full of people; they were friends of the Cartwrights. Some were old friends that had known the family for many years; others were friends that had only just met the family of men who were now grieving for their lost loved one. Though the house was crowded with folks who milled around in silent tribute to Ben’s loss, the big house was strangely quiet. An almost eerie gloom had engulfed the home, which just days before had been filled with happiness and the infectious sounds of laughter. Now Ben sat alone in the upstairs bedroom, alone with the body of his beloved son, which had been readied for burial. Ben had refused to allow anyone other than his two oldest sons and his faithful family servant, Hop Sing, to enter the room where Joe’s body lay upon his father’s bed.
Ben had unlocked the door minutes before to allow his family to join him. Hop Sing moved quietly about the room; large tears seeped from his swollen, red rimmed eyes as he handed Ben a cup of hot coffee. Ben moved his head ever so slightly to gaze into the face of his housekeeper; his eyes clouded with misery, and slowly shook his head, refusing to accept the steaming brew.
Ben’s eyes moved to the face of his son. His fingers gently toyed with the curls that adorned his youngest son’s head. “So soft,” he whispered to himself. “Always was so soft, and unruly,” he laughed softly.
Adam watched his father’s movement, heard the soft laughter that held no joy or happiness until the sight of the broken hearted man tore at his own heart and he was forced to turn away.
“He needs a hair cut, don’t you think, Adam?” muttered Ben, looking at but never seeing his oldest son.
Adam moved to the chair next to his father and placed his hand tenderly on his father’s arm. “Yeah Pa, Little Joe needed a hair cut.”
Ben’s eyes sought his son’s face. He held Adam’s gaze for several moments before he broke. “Oh Adam…he’s gone…he’s really gone…Oh GOD!” welled Ben, “How will I ever live without him?”
Adam squeezed his father’s arm; his free hand moved up and down the middle of Ben’s back. “I don’t know Pa, but we’ve got to try, Little Joe wouldn’t want us to grieve our lives away, you know that. Come on Pa, pull yourself together, for his sake, please,” pleaded Adam fighting back his own tears.
“Adam’s right Pa, we gotta let them take his body to bury,” Hoss choked out. “It’s hot Pa, we’re gonna have to take him up to the lake to be with his mama soon,” Hoss continued.
“Boys right Mr. Cart’lite…Lil’til Joe need to go be with his mother now. No longer able to keep boy’s body here, please boss, let us bury the boy,” Hop Sing pleaded, his tears rolling freely down his rosy cheeks.
Ben brushed away the hands that had been trying to comfort him and stood to his feet. “Get out…all of you!” he shouted, his deep voice ringing with deeper sorrow.
“Pa…”
“Out I said, get out of here and leave me alone with him!” Ben grabbed the door handle and jerked opened the door, “GET OUT!”
Adam nodded his head at Hoss and Hop Sing, motioning for them to leave. As they proceeded from the room, Adam stopped in front of his father. Ben’s glare was angry, undercoated with his grief and sorrow as he waited to be left alone.
“Pa,” started Adam, but stopped when he saw the tears build behind the chocolate coloring of his father’s eyes.
“Just give me a few more minutes alone with him, please son, please.” Ben’s tears rolled past the rims, unable to hold back any longer before they made their way to the sides of Ben’s face. “Please,” Ben said one last time.
Adam gripped Ben’s arm, more to steady himself than to comfort his father. “Okay, Pa, but in a few minutes I’ll be back and we’ll take Joe to the lake. Okay?”
Unable to speak, Ben nodded his head in agreement.
As Adam pulled the door closed to join Hoss and Hop Sing in the hallway, he glanced back at his father. Ben had moved to the side of the bed and had gathered the lifeless body of his brother into his arms. Ben began rocking slowly, back and forth, and Adam thought of the many times he had seen his father comfort his younger brother in this manner. As he shut the door, his father’s deep voice could be heard singing softly, an old tune that Joe had always loved for his father to sing. Adam remembered the tune; My Sons, My Sons, and Adam’s heart skipped a beat.
**********
Ben stood