Ben opened the door for the fourth time and stepped out onto the porch. As hard as he tried, he could not still the uneasy feelings that had been growing within his mind all evening. His sons had left earlier in the afternoon for the north pasture where he had sent them to repair a section of fence that had gotten washed out by the high rising waters just a day or so ago. Ben glanced up at the sky and taking a deep breath, let it out slowly. He did not like the looks of the dark storm clouds that were rapidly gathering. It had rained every day now for five days, stopping late last night and thus giving his sons the required break they needed in order to fix the broken fences and return the stray cattle to their proper location. Now it appeared as if the rain would start up again, and Ben was concerned that his sons would be caught in the downpour.
Ben turned and walked back into the house, closing the door behind him as he entered. Pacing, Ben stopped before the fireplace and warmed his hands. He would not admit it to anyone, lest of all one of his sons, but the predictions that his three boys had received from the fortune-teller while attending the carnival last week in Carson City, worried the over-protective father. He knew that Little Joe and Hoss had pestered their older brother, begging non-stop for him to join them in the gypsy’s tent and have their fortunes told. Adam had repeatedly refused, not putting any store in such things but had finally given in to his brothers insistent pleas, if only to get them off his back. Half an hour later, the three brothers had emerged from the tent the younger two laughing and joking about the things that the fortune teller had claimed she had seen in her crystal ball.
**********
“You don’t really believe that foolishness do you?” asked Adam as he listened to his younger brothers comments.
“Aw shucks, Adam, course not. Don’t ya think we’ve got better sense than that?” laughed Hoss, giving Joe a wink of the eye.
“I never know with the two of you. Come on, we’ve wasted enough time. We best be getting on home; Pa will be furious when he finds out how much time I let the two of you talk me into killing on such tomfoolery,” complained Adam as he mounted his horse and turned watching his brothers mount theirs.
“Hey Adam?” piped Little Joe with a mischievous smile on his young face, “do you really have a son? I mean, it could be possible you know, you’re forever telling us about all those beautiful ladies you keep company with when you go to San Francisco,” laughed Joe, ducking his head as Adam swung his arm out playfully trying to strike the younger boy.
“I think squirt, if I had fathered a son, or daughter for that matter, I would be very well aware of the fact. But seeing as I have no wife as of yet, I cannot have either. And as for the beautiful women in San Francisco, you better not bring that subject up in front of Pa, or it will cost you dearly, little brother. Now drop the subject and let’s get home,” instructed Adam, giving his horse a swift kick and leaving the other two sitting in a cloud of dust, their loud laughter ringing in his ears.
Adam rode hard for several minutes, troubling thoughts worming their way into his thinking. It could be possible he thought, but not likely, or at least he hoped not. Judging from what the gypsy had stated he would have had to been about Joe’s age, eighteen, maybe nineteen at the time, which thinking back Adam had to admit, he had sowed his share of wild oats. If the predication were true, which he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t, then the would-be son would be four or five years younger than Joe, making the unknown lad about twelve or thirteen, give or take a year. Adam shook his head to chase away the disturbing thoughts, I don’t even believe in that rubbish, so why worry, he tried to convince himself and then slowed his horse in order to give his brothers time to catch up.
**********
Ben rose from his chair at the sounds of laughter in the yard. Quickly he jerked opened the door and smiled in relief as he watched his three sons leading their horses into the safety of the barn. Ben watched each of his sons until all three disappeared from sight, smiling to himself at the close comradeship that the brothers shared. Looking up at the ever so dark clouds, Ben knew that the storm was nearing being as how he could feel the drop in the temperature as the winds increased in momentum and the air smelled of rain. It was a clean, fresh smell, one he had always liked unless of course it threatened the well being of one or all of his sons, which was the case on this night.
Ben stepped back inside and sat down at his desk pretending to be busy with some paper work. There was no use letting his grown sons know that he had been worried about them. Still, recalling what Hoss had let slip out about the gypsy’s predicted events, and seeing how she had stated that ‘much rain shall fall, bringing with it the breaking away of family’, Ben could only wonder. Nonsense, he told himself, shaking his head. No one can foresee the future, no one that is except the Almighty, who according to Ben’s beliefs already had all of their futures planned out.
Joe was the first to burst through the door, Adam and Hoss hurrying in behind. The wind had risen even stronger and Hoss had to push hard at the door to get it closed. Ben rose to greet his sons; their smiling faces bringing an end to his worry.
“Glad you made it home before that storm hit, boys,” greeted Ben while he watched them shucking their hats, coats and side arms. All three looked up as their father welcomed them.
“Whew, that wind sure is agettin’ strong, ‘bout blew me away agettin’ inside,” laughed Hoss removing his big hat and placing it on the peg and turning to face his father.
“Oh come on now big brother, ain’t no wind that strong,” teased Joe as he ran his fingers through his unruly curls.
“I have to agree with the kid here Hoss, it would take more, something like a gale force wind to move that body around,” added Adam who poked his larger than average brother in the stomach with his long finger.
Ben laughed along with his sons and slapped Hoss on his back. “You boys hungry? Hop Sing kept your supper warm for you. Come on, let’s sit down,” said Ben as he moved with his sons to the dinning room table. Hop Sing hurried in and poured hot coffee for his three favorite sons and his employer before moving to the kitchen to bring in the meal he had kept in the warming oven for the boys.
“Have ya ever seed me when I tweren’t hungry, Pa?” laughed Hoss taking his seat across from Joe who continued to giggle.
Ben sat down in his own place at the head of the table, “No son, can’t honestly say that I have, unless you count that time when Bessie Sue dropped by unexpectedly and caught you smooching Mary Beth Wilcox out on the veranda, as I recall, you didn’t eat for about three days after that,” started Ben, stopping suddenly as loud laughter drowned out his words.
“He couldn’t eat, remember Pa, Bessie Sue gave him a fat lip,” snickered Adam as he forced his face into a serious expression.
“Yeah, and when Bessie Sue finished with him, Mary Beth broke the flower pot over his head and accused him of two timing her,” giggled Joe unable to control himself as he leaned across to Adam and shook his brother by his arm.
“Aw, shucks Pa, why’d hav’ta go and bring that up?” moaned Hoss, his red faced expression making his family burst into a second round of hearty laughter until even Hoss could not stop himself from joining in.
**********
Adam tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position in his bed. He was not prone to having nightmares, not like his younger brother Joe who had been having them since he was five. They had started after his mother, Marie, had died from injuries received from a fall from her horse and to this day the eighteen year old still suffered occasionally from them. Adam turned over on his side and shut his eyes trying to go back to sleep. The dream had left him feeling unnerved and with troublesome thoughts.
‘You have a son, yes?’ the gypsy lady had asked.
‘No, I do not,’ replied Adam firmly, giving each of his brothers a stern look for having connived him into getting his fortune told to him.
“Ah, but my crystal ball sees a very young man; a handsome young man with dark eyes and dark raven hair, much like yourself, though you have yet to meet him,” whispered the gypsy. ‘He will come soon, to claim his rightful spot, a spot that will be vacated by the one whom you love as a son.’
Adam turned again onto his back and sighed, wondering at the woman’s meaning. Adam fluffed his pillows and turned to the opposite side, again shutting his eyes tightly in hopes of putting the woman’s words out of his mind. Then he saw his younger brother’s face and heard again the gypsy woman speaking.
Joe was laughing, his handsome face distorted from scrunching up his nose. And then she raised her hand, silencing the boy. ‘Do not laugh little boy,’ she had said with a ring of venom in her voice, her dark eyes piercing into his brother’s hazel eyes.
Joe’s face took on a serious expression. ‘Why, what does your crystal ball say about my future?’ Joe had asked, a smile spreading across his boyish face as he glanced at his brothers.
‘I see water, lots and lots of water. The rain, it will come soon and for many days the water will cover the earth, and with the rain will come a parting of the family,’ she paused and watched the faces of the three men.
‘So, it’s gonna rain, what does that have to do with me?’ his brother had inquired, the smile beginning to fade as he listened to her next words.
‘I see the water; it is running very swiftly over the ground. It is carrying with it, many objects. Ahh…. yes, I see, I see…you little one, you are in the water…No, wait. I see your face, it is covered by the water and you are struggling, you are…’ she hesitated. ‘No more…I see nothing more. You go now, be on your way…’ She waved her hands in the air as if to shoo them away.
The gypsy woman started to rise but Hoss had placed his large hand on her arm, stopping her from leaving.
“Hold on a minute, missy, what about me? What’s that ball of yours say about me, heh?” Hoss had asked.
Adam could tell that the lady was uncomfortable, not wanting to say more, but she returned to her chair and as her hands spread across the crystal ball and she stared into it’s depth, she paused and looked into the faces of each of the brothers, stopping and returning to face Hoss.
‘I see eyes the color of the sky and they are filled with much sadness. You will grieve for what once was.’ Again her smooth hands caressed the glass ball and looking into the blue eyes that stared in awe at her, she continued.
‘You will make a long journey. You are searching for the lost one; your search will take you far from where your heart is but you shall return only this time you will know things to be different from what they appear to be and your conscience will force you to voice your concerns and the truth shall stand on it’s own.’ Rosa stood up and waved her hands, ‘Go, all of you. The ball speaks of nothing else.’
The brothers, silent now, stood and quietly exited the tent. With out so much as a word to one another, until they were far enough from the enclosure that their laughter could not to be heard, they slowly walked down the street to where their horses were tied before Adam turned to speak.
“You don’t really believe that foolishness do you……………………
***********
Adam was drawn from a troubled sleep by the sounds of the pounding rain as it beat down on the roof. Pulling back the heavy curtain that covered the window his mood grew even blacker as he looked out onto the dismal day. The sound of the barn door being pulled opened forced his attention to the activity below and he watched as Joe led the team of horses from the barn, the supply wagon following and covered with a heavy tarp.
Today was Saturday and Adam knew that it was Joe’s turn to make the trip into town for the needed supplies. He almost felt sorry for his younger brother; he sure did not envy the boy the unpleasant task, not in this rain. But, reasoned Adam, what needed to be done had to be done, and if anyone could accomplish it in this weather, Joe Cartwright was the one to do it. Adam smiled, nothing, not even a flash flood could damper his kid brother’s enthusiasm when it came to going into town. Adam watched as his father gave the boy his last minute instructions before moving from the window and dressing. His stomach growled making Adam groan softly, okay, okay, I’m hurrying, he laughingly told his belly.
“Where’s Hoss? I saw Joe leaving earlier…wait don’t tell me, Hoss decided at the last minute to go with him?” asked Adam as he sat down at the table.
“Oh you know Hoss, he worries more about that boy than you and I put together. He used the excuse that he didn’t want Joe trying to hurry the team in this rain. You know how Joe tends to rush those animals. Just like his ma used to be, always in a hurry, even if there were no reason to be hurrying,” smiled Ben, his eyes taking on a far away look and Adam knew he was remembering another time.
“Don’t worry then, Hoss won’t Joe do something he’s not suppose to be doing. Not with those horses he loves so well,” stated Adam reaching for the platter of flapjacks and moving six or more onto his plate.
Adam glanced up and saw his father watching him and smiled. “I’m hungry.”
Ben laughed and shook his head, “you keep eating like that and you’ll soon catch up with Hoss.”
“Not likely Pa, no way can I eat as much as that bull,” returned Adam smiling.
**********
“Dadburnit, Short Shanks, slow these horses down. Ain’t no call fer ya to be runnin’em like this. Now, do as I say, afore we git ta the bridge,” commanded Hoss as he shouted over the thunder that boomed.
“Whoa,” Joe called out as he pulled back on the reins. “WHOA!” he shouted again with no results.
Using all the strength he could muster, Joe stood up in the wagon and pulled harder. He had not intended for the horses to break into a run but the continual rolling thunder had spooked the large animals causing him to loose control. Fighting the aching in his arms and back, Joe pulled back again and just as Hoss grabbed for the lines, the wagon seemed to suddenly be flying. Joe felt himself being tossed upward and knew by the pain that struck his body that he had landed on something hard as he sank beneath the raging waters.
Hoss was watching the road ahead and gasped when the bridge came into sight. The rain had caused the creek to overflow and the water ran across the spot where the bridge had once stood. Suddenly realizing that Joe had lost control of the team, Hoss reached up and grabbed for the reins just as they started across what was left of the bridge. The last thing that Hoss saw before the remaining bridge gave way, was his younger brother sailing out of the wagon and through the air.
In the next instant Hoss was fighting for his life, the water swirled violently around him and he struggled to hold on to what was left of the wagon. Twice he was knocked under, the swift current carrying him down stream at a frightening speed. When he was finally able to grab hold and hang on, his eyes sought the dark mucky water for his brother.
“JOE! JOE!” screamed Hoss repeatedly until his voice cracked. Frantically Hoss turned, searching the turbulent waters for any sign of Joe but could see nothing. After being carried miles from where he had entered the water, Hoss saw a lull in the main stream ahead and knew if he were to ever make an attempt to swim to safety, he would have to do it now. Taking a deep breath, Hoss let go of the boards he had been clinging to and swam for shore. The water fought against his efforts but at last he pulled himself from the churning waters and collapsed onto the shore.
***********
“Hoss, wake up son. Can you hear me, boy?” Ben gently slapped at Hoss’ cheeks in an effort to arouse the boy. “Hoss, where’s Joe? Hoss, please son wake up,” pleaded Ben giving Adam who had just approached him, a wary look.
“Did you find any sign of your brother?” Ben asked Adam hopefully while cradling Hoss’ head in his lap.
“Just this,” said Adam holding up a piece of green material that both recognized as coming from Joe’s jacket.
“Oh God, Hoss, Hoss. Can you hear me, boy?” Ben patted Hoss’ cheeks again.
This time Hoss stirred and immediately began coughing up mouthfuls of water. Ben held the boy’s head to the side, allowing the water to be more easily spit out. After several moments, Hoss opened his eyes and instantly began fighting against the arms that held him.
“Joe, I gotta find Joe.” Hoss struggled against his father’s attempts to hold him down. “Let me go,” he grumbled as he pulled free, “I gotta find my little brother.”
“Hoss, calm down son,” said Ben as he rose and grabbed the larger man’s arm. Hoss swung around, his hand coiled into a tight fist but stopped suddenly as recognition registered.
“Pa,” Hoss cried softly, tears swiftly filling his eyes. “We gotta find Joe; he got throwed from the wagon.”
Ben glanced at the raging waters and felt his heart sinking in despair as he remembered that Joe was not a very strong swimmer unlike his two older brothers.
“I know son, we have several men combing the shores on both sides. There’s no telling how far down stream he might have gotten. We’ll just keep looking until we find him,” Ben forced his voice to remain calm though his insides where churning as hard as the waters that had nearly claimed one of his sons, and possibly had claimed the youngest.
“Are you feeling up to helping, or do you need to lie down?” Ben asked, concerned for his son’s well being.
“No, I gotta find him,’ replied Hoss. “Pa, tweren’t his fault, those ole horses bolted when that thunder spooked ‘em. Joe just didn’t have ‘nough strength in his arms to pull’em to a stop and afore I knowed what was happenin’ they runned clear out into the middle of that crik. Last time I saw Joe, he was flying through the air; next thing I knowed, I was in the water myself.” Hoss glanced over his shoulder at the water and shook his head.
“Come on, he’s bound ta be here somewhere.” Ben watched as Hoss moved away to join Adam and the others in the search knowing in his heart that this big man blamed himself for his younger brother’s disappearance.
The search party searched throughout the long rainy night, using lanterns and torches and combing both sides of the banks of the swollen waters. When daylight came, a new group of volunteers took over where the others had stopped so that the tired and exhausted men could rest before starting out again later. By the time that nightfall descended on the group, several miles had been covered but still there remained no sign of Ben Cartwright’s youngest son, Little Joe. Ben refused to give up hope, Hoss had all but collapsed and Ben had had to order the boy to bed. Hoss adamantly refused to go home and had instead crawled into one of the many makeshift tents that their neighbors had so generously supplied so that the men could have a place to get in out of the rain.
Day after day the heavens continued to open up and douse the earth with rain. The river and creeks continued to flow out of their banks while the water soaked earth refused to hold any more. Never, agreed the group of volunteers had they ever seen it rain as it had for the last ten days, thus hampering the rescue operation. It was because of the rain that many of the ranchers had given up hope of ever finding Ben’s son and had broken away from the groups and began returning to their own homes and families. The current was moving too rapidly, the waters too high and dangerous the men had declared, leaving Ben standing alone with his older two sons.
“We’re sorry Ben, but its no use. He’s gone Ben, not even a grown man could have survived in those waters for as long as Little Joe has been missing,” apologized one rancher.
“Ben, we’ve searched a total of twenty to thirty miles and you know what we found. His jacket, boot and hat. I’m sorry Ben, I’m truly sorry, but I have to get back to my own family, you understand, don’t you?” asked another, his head bowed low unable to meet the dark eyes of the grieving father.
Ben nodded his head, “Yes, I understand. I want to thank all of you for your help, but my sons and I here aren’t giving up, not yet, not until we know something for sure either way,” said Ben shaking hands with his friends and neighbors as each man stepped up to him and bid him well.
When most of the men had left, Ben turned to face Adam and Hoss. “What about the two of you? You ready to quit too?” he asked, a bit of sarcasm in his voice.
Hoss was the first to speak up, “Naw Pa, not me. I won’t ever give up. It’s my fault that he’s gone and…”
“Hoss, stop it,” blared Ben. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a dozen times, this was not your fault. You have to stop thinking like that, it was an accident, pure and simple,” Ben added in a more calm voice. “No one blames you son, please, stop torturing yourself like this.” Ben rested his hand on Hoss’ big shoulder and gave the boy a reassuring squeeze.
“Pa’s right big brother. Come on, help me get his gear packed up and we’ll move our camp further down stream and work from there,” said Adam as he began placing the equipment into the packs on the packhorse.
For two more days Ben and his sons searched the banks and surrounding areas for any sign that Joe might have somehow made it to shore. Spirits were low, the outcome looked bleak but none of the Cartwrights would voice their fears to the others, but each knew in their own hearts that it would take a miracle if they were to find the youngest family member at all now.
Dusk was quickly approaching as the men made camp for the night. The rain had finally stopped early that morning and the sun had blared down on the watery earth in a futile attempt to begin the drying out process. Adam and Hoss had each returned to their temporary camp and waited for their father’s return hoping that he might have found something that would give them a clue as to what might have happened to their youngest sibling. Both young men were shocked when Ben burst into the camp at a gallop. Buck tried to stop as Ben applied pressure to his reins but slipped in the mud going down on to his knees. Ben was tossed from the saddle and with a thud landed hard in a nearby puddle. Adam and Hoss moved swiftly to Ben’s side as the older man lay moaning covered from head to foot with mud.
“Pa!” shouted Hoss bending over his father. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.
“My leg, I think it’s broken,” moaned Ben using Adam’s arm for leverage and pulling himself into a sitting position. “Of all the fool stunts, and to think how many times I have yelled at your younger brother for doing just what I did,” fussed Ben, a small smile beginning to reshape his pained expression.
Adam returned the smile glad to see that his father was not hurt any worse and that he could find just a smidgen of humor in the accident. “Don’t worry Pa, when Joe gets home, we won’t tell him; it will be our little secret.”
“Well, let’s just hope that Joseph is home before this thing heals. I’d rather have him teasing me about this than not have him home at all. Now, help me over to the fire son,” moaned Ben, the pain beginning to worsen.
Hoss and Adam had no other choice but to break camp and return to the house with their father. For the time being, the search for Joe would have to wait, but not for long decided Hoss to himself. As soon as their father’s leg was set and he was assured that Ben rested comfortably, Hoss knew in his heart that he would go on, alone if necessary. He had promised himself that first night that he would not stop until he knew for certain the outcome of Joe’s accident. Regardless what everyone told him about not feeling guilty about what had happened, Hoss felt in his heart that he was; he should have been paying more attention to the conditions around them than trying to doze. Hoss swiped the back of his hand across his eyes; if he never found his little brother, he already knew that he could never forgive himself for what had happened.
Adam found some branches that he could use as a splint to hold Ben’s leg in place until the doctor could put a cast on his leg. “Bite down on this Pa,” ordered Adam as he handed his father a piece of clean rag. “I have to set this leg before we can move you.”
Ben stuffed the rag into his mouth and giving Adam a nod of his head, Ben closed his eyes to the pain as Adam snapped the bone back into place. Ben grunted, the sound muffled by the cloth but opened his eyes after feeling that the bone had been properly set.
“You okay Pa?” asked Hoss as he held the broken leg while Adam placed the sticks in place and tied them securely with strips of cloth.
Ben gave his sons a weak smile and nodded his head, the pain clearly visible on the tired face of the older Cartwright. Ben clenched his teeth as Adam finished with the makeshift cast and helped his father to his feet. Adam stopped briefly to allow his father to catch his breath when he noticed how pale Ben had become. Carefully Hoss and Adam placed their father on the back of his horse then turned to finish with the supplies that were packed onto the pack animal and with Hoss in the lead, they headed for home.
Adam now rode ahead, going first into town to bring Doc Martin back to the ranch in order to properly care for Ben’s broken leg. By the time that he had called on the doctor and the two were headed for the Ponderosa, Hoss along with the help of Hop Sing, had Ben comfortably situated in bed waiting, rather impatiently, for the physician’s arrival.
“Ben, what in the world have you done to yourself?” chided Paul as he entered Ben’s bedroom and approached the bed.
“I broke my dang fool leg, that’s what I’ve done,” snapped Ben, obviously irritated at his foolishness and just as obviously taking it out on the others in the room with him.
“Adam said you came barreling into camp and that your horse threw you,” said Paul, trying to hide the smile that wanted to curl his lips upward. He removed the covers that lay on top of Ben’s broken leg in a last attempt at masking his face. Slowly he began to remove the temporary splint and examine the break, all the while feeling along the calf of his patient’s leg to be sure that Adam had properly set the bone.
“Oh, he did, did he? Well, for your information, my horse did not throw me, thank you, Buck slid in the mud and went down, I fell off,” again Ben snapped, this time giving his oldest son a disgusted look.
Paul laughed and gave Ben a doubtful look of his own. “Benjamin Cartwright, right at this minute, you sound very much like that youngest boy of yours.”
The room suddenly became silent as all eyes turned to watch the face of Ben Cartwright drain of what little color was remaining. Ben hung his head as his emotions suddenly became too much for him.
“I’m sorry Ben. I guess I shouldn’t have said that,” apologized Paul giving Ben a gentle pat on his good leg.
Ben looked at his friend, his own misery etched onto his face. “Aw, it’s okay Paul. I just wish I could hear him complaining now. I swear it would be music to my ears.” Ben gave them a weak smile and laid his head back against the soft pillow, shutting his eyes and letting his heart take him back to the days just before the boy’s disappearance.
***********
The water moved rapidly down stream, much too fast for the injured boy to do more than cling to the small tree he had finally been able to grab onto. Joe could feel his body giving out on him, the pain in his ribcage making it impossible for him to make a try at swimming against the current and toward the shore. To the weary boy it had seemed like hours now since the wagon and team had been swept into the raging waters. The last thing that Joe could remember was trying to bring the team under control, after that everything was a blur and all of his energies now were concentrated on keeping himself from drowning. Joe hit more turbulence and had to fight hard to keep from losing his hold on the tree as he and the sapling was pulled downward, the water rushing over his body at a frightening speed. Just when Joe felt as if his lungs were ready to burst and he would surely drown, the force of the under current pushed him upward and to the surface of the water. Joe coughed and spit water from his mouth, looking back over his shoulder from where he had just come and silently whispering a prayer of gratitude that he had made it this far.
Every muscle and joint in his body ached, his head throbbed, his right arm had a long gash that had yet to stop bleeding and Joe feared that he would not be able to hold on much longer. His eyes stayed fixed on the fierce waters in front of him as his thoughts momentarily turned to his brother. Joe wondered how Hoss had faired when what was left of the bridge had given way and the wagon had been swept into the swirling river. Joe could only hope that his brother had somehow managed to swim to shore and with God’s help had been found in time. Joe’s thoughts quickly returned to the violent waters as the sounds grew in volume and watched in horror as an unexpected waterfall drew nearer. Frantically, Joe searched the banks for a means of escape but realized too late that his body was unwilling and unable to follow the commands that his brain issued. Joe’s last thoughts before being tossed outward over the edge of the falls and downward to the rocks below were of his family and just how much he loved them.
**********
“Papa, Papa, come quickly.”
“What is it child? What is all of this yelling about?” asked the concerned father.
“Look Papa, down there,” the young girl pointed at a prone figure lying twisted among the rocks, “it’s a man Papa, see?”
“Yes, yes, I see. Run and fetch your brother. Tell Thomas to bring some rope and blankets; we may need them to bring the body up. Hurry Patience, I must see if he’s still alive,” ordered Jacob.
“Hurry child.” Jacob gently nudged his daughter toward their camp where they had stopped for the noonday meal. As he turned and began the descent down the bank toward the crumbled body, Jacob whispered a silent prayer on the stranger’s behalf.
Jacob reached the spot where Joe lay and approached the boy with caution. Stooping to inspect the body, Jacob placed his work worn fingers to Joe’s throat and was surprised to find a weak pulse. Jacob glanced upward that the waterfall and slowly shook his head.
“God must surely be watching out for you mister,” he mumbled as he felt along the twisted body finding the broken bones in both legs and left arm. Jacob probed gently along the ribcage and noted the busted ribs as well. Thomas hurried down the slope to his father’s side bringing the requested items.
“Is he dead, Pa?” asked the younger man.
“No, but he should be; from the looks of him he’s been in the water for quite a spell. And all these broken bones, the man must have surely found favor in our Lord’s eyes. Help me turn him over, easy now, both legs are broken,” instructed Jacob as he gently slipped his arms under Joe’s body in an effort to turn him onto his back.
“Sweet Mary, mother of Jesus!” exclaimed Jacob when he saw Joe’s bruised and battered face. “He’s just a boy Thomas, a lad no older than your brother Mathew,” Jacob stated as he brushed Joe’s hair from his brow and wiped what he could of the mud from about Joe’s face.
“Do you think he lives around here Pa?” inquired Thomas, helping his father to gently place Joe onto one of the blankets.
“I’ve no idea Thomas, though if he does, he must live very far back into the forest as there are no ranches or farms that I know of anywhere near here except for the Fishers and ours. Careful now, tie the rope around him to keep him wrapped in the blanket. We best get him up to your Ma, she’ll know what to do for him.”
Jacob and Thomas proceeded up the slope, using care in how they carried Joe. Once or twice they slipped in the soft earth and nearly dropped the unconscious boy. Each time, soft moans could be heard emitting from beneath the blanket that told the father and son duo that the injured boy still clung precariously to life.
Jacob glanced up toward the top of the slope, Martha his wife, Mathew his nineteen-year old son, Patience his youngest daughter, Mark and Luke his seventeen-year old twins were all waiting to help their father and brother raise the body over the edge and onto the ground.
“Who is he Papa, is he hurt badly or is he dead?” Patience asked excitedly.
Martha placed her hand onto the girl’s shoulder and gently applied pressure, bringing a silence to her constant chatter.
Jacob looked up at Martha, “He’s just barely alive and needs a doctor. His legs are broken, as is his left arm and I’m sure he has some busted ribs. He’s unconscious but we heard him moaning a minute ago,” stated Jacob as he and Thomas carried Joe to the family’s wagon and carefully placed Joe in the back. The family gathered around the wagon, each anxious to catch a glimpse of the mysterious man they had found.
Martha climbed into the back and knelt down next to Joe, being careful to undo the rope around his body and removing the blanket that covered his face and body. Martha gasped when her eyes took in the sight of Joe’s swollen face and tenderly her hands caressed his cheeks. She felt the sting of tears as they clouded her eyes and she could do nothing to stop them from rolling down her own cheeks.
“Oh Jacob, he’s just a boy,” she exclaimed as she brushed away small particles of gravel from the mass of dark curls. “We must get him home and send for the doctor at once,” Martha stated.
“Mathew, you ride into town and fetch the doctor, Luke you and Mark ride on back to the house and have your sisters bring the cot into the room off the porch. Help them get it ready. We will be there as soon as we can, now hurry all of you.” Martha clapped her hands together and her children sprang into action.
“What about me Mama? What can I do to help?” asked ten-year old Patience expectantly.
“You sweetheart, can ride up front with your Papa and make sure he doesn’t hit all the holes and ruts in the road,” smiled Martha as she helped her daughter into the front of the wagon and dried the tears that remained on her pretty face.
It was only a matter of minutes before they were on their way. Martha had chosen to remain in the back so that she could keep an eye on her patient. With a mother’s care, she washed away as much dirt and mud from Joe’s face and from the gash on his right arm as was possible. Her heart broke each and every time that the wagon jarred from hitting a rut and Joe’s cries reached her ears. Martha took Joe’s hand in her own and whispered soft words of comfort as she stroked his head. When the wagon wheel rolled into a deep hole and tossed sideways, Joe’s scream of anguish sent the motherly woman into a steady stream of prayers that never once stopped until at last they reached their home.
Hannah and Sarah had everything ready by the time that their parents arrived with the unknown boy and stood aside as their father carried him into the little room and placed him tenderly on the cot.
Hannah sixteen, and Sarah fifteen, both stretched their necks as the blanket was removed from around Joe. Both pairs of blue eyes widened as they watched and each turned to meet the other as small smiles spread across their faces at seeing the handsome young boy on the cot before them.
“Girls,” barked Jacob, seeing their expressions, “bring some warm water, soap and towels in here so that I can clean this boy up.”
The smiles faded just as quickly as they had appeared and both girls scurried from the room to do their father’s bidding. Jacob’s eyes met his wife’s and briefly held her gaze, their smiles telling each other that they knew what had made their young daughter’s faces suddenly brighten.
“I’ll bathe him, you go ahead with your chores,” Martha said at last.
“Martha, you can’t he…”started Jacob.
Martha straightened to her full height, “Oh yes I can, and I will. Goodness knows, I’ve seen my share of naked boys in my time,” she smiled at the shocked look on her husband’s face.
“Well yes,” he stammered, “but the boy might not like the idea of you seeing him.”
“And who’s going to tell him, pray tell? If he doesn’t ask, then he need not be embarrassed, now should he?” Martha stood with her hands on her hips and dared her husband to abolish her.
Jacob smiled and leaned over and placed a kiss on his wife’s brow, “As usual Mother, I stand corrected.”
“Oh Jacob, I can’t help but feel the need to care for him. Just look at him, why he is almost the spitting image of our James, God rest his soul.” Martha placed a loving hand on her husband’s arm before turning to take the washbasin and needed items from her daughters.
“Hannah, please fetch me one of Mark or Luke’s night shirts for when the doctor is finished with the boy.” Martha sat the items on the table and ushered everyone out of the room and closed the door after them.
Joe cried out in spite of the fact that the hands that tended him were loving and gentle hands. Martha worked steadily and tried to ignore the pitiful protests that came from her injured patient. The cries sparked her motherly instinct and she fought with herself for control over her emotions. Her memories of her own stricken son flashed before her eyes each and every time that Joe’s pain caused him to vocalize his misery until she finally gave herself over to her tears and wept for both her son and the young man who so desperately needed her care.
The doctor arrived just before dark, Jacob had returned from doing his chores and took Martha’s place while she went into the kitchen and helped her daughters with finishing the evening meal. When Doctor Blakefield stepped into the little room off the porch, his eyes widened at the sight of the boy lying on the bed. Quickly he began his examination, giving Joe a significant amount of morphine to kill the pain. Jacob stayed to help the doctor when time came to set the broken bones and apply the plaster casts. He could not help but feel sorry for the wounded boy when even with the pain medication his cries could be heard throughout the large rambling farmhouse. Jacob watched the boy’s facial expressions as the doctor worked and all the while wondered at the boy’s identity and where he might be from and more so, whether he had parents that were worried sick about his disappearance.
The doctor came the next afternoon to check on Joe’s welfare and had found that the boy had spent the better part of the night and morning in a deep drug induced sleep. Martha had stayed close to the boy, never leaving his bedside for very long. During the night Joe had tossed and turned and cried out in an attempt to speak, but each time had failed to voice his words, the medicine never allowing him to remain awake for very long periods. Joe would only need to close his eyes to be once again lost to the world around him thus putting a temporary end to his futile efforts at seeking answers to his unvoiced questions.
It was on the third morning after being found and brought to the Carver home that Joe began his long journey back from obscurity. His mind fought with his body, the mind commanding his limbs to move, to get up, but the body rejected the orders, choosing instead to remain immobile. Joe felt as if his body was wrapped tightly, unaware that his ribcage was bound with long strips of cloth preventing movement of the ribs, or that his legs were weighted down by the heavy plaster casts and lastly, the only things that his mind was fully aware of, the cast on his left arm, the tight bandage on his right and the constant throbbing in his head.
Joe groaned and slowly opened his eyes. Everything was fuzzy and distorted; he could not make out the faces that stared down at him. He tried to sit up but every muscle in his body ached, starting at the top of his head clear down to his feet. And then gentle hands rested on his shoulders, forcing him back into the soft bed. Shutting his eyes to the nausea that threatened him, Joe listened to the soft whispers that buzzed about his head and tried to put names to the voices. He listened for his father’s voice, desperately hoping that his pa was nearby, but the deep mellow sound that he knew so well was not among the group that surrounded him. Chancing a peek from under his long lashes, Joe sought for his brother Hoss’ face, the last face he remembered seeing, but could not find him. Where was he? What had happened to him? Why couldn’t he move and who were all of these people? And why was his head pounding as it was?
“Pa?” cried Joe, “PA?”
Panic began to fill Joe’s heart, he knew he had just called out for his father, but why had they not seemed to have heard the sound of his voice? What was wrong?
“PA!” shouted Joe, again trying to rise from the bed but was stopped by the pain that racked his body and he felt again the gentle hands. Looking up, Joe stared into the soft, compassionate eyes of the woman whom Joe vaguely recalled being in his dreams.
“The boy is hurt badly and you mustn’t allow him to move about, not for several days,” Joe heard the order that the man who seemed to be in charge issued to the group. Joe watched as the others all nodded their heads in acknowledgement of the statement.
Frightened, Joe stared at the man’s face seeking recognition. Slowly Joe raised his right hand and rubbed at his eyes, even that small gesture caused the pain to flow from his arm to his head. When his vision began to clear, Joe looked around the room at the people who stood around his bed. Listening and watching, Joe knew that the people where talking about him, he could hear their muted whispers; he watched the expressions on their faces and saw the glances that were cast in his direction. Suddenly the man approached the bed for the second time and gently removed the blanket that covered Joe’s arms. Watching the man’s face, hoping that the gentleman would speak, Joe flinched as the man injected the needle into his arm.
“That should help him rest,” the doctor told the others. “He’ll be out for several hours, I want someone with him at all times. This boy needs all the rest he can get in order to recover. Has he said anything or asked for anyone?” the physician inquired as he put his medical instruments into his black bag.
“Nothing, he’s tried to speak, but can’t seem to get the words out,” commented the older lady who gently placed Joe’s arms under the soft blankets and patted his cheek.
Joe tried again to speak but the affects of the powerful medicine took control of his body and mind refusing to grant him any further chance to ask his questions. Joe closed his eyes and surrendered to the slumber that claimed him. Quietly the Carver family moved out of the room, leaving Martha and Jacob alone with the doctor.
“He will be all right won’t he?” asked Martha, concerned as she busied herself straightening the blankets around Joe’s shoulders, fluffing his pillows and stopping to lovingly caress his face with the back of her hand.
“I think that depends on the boy, Martha. He seems healthy enough but it’s obvious that he has been through some trauma, and no telling how long he was in the water. Those floods north of us have been extremely bad and it is possible that the boy travel several miles in that swift current. He sure swallowed enough of that nasty stuff.” The doctor stepped over to the bed and placed his hand on Joe’s brow.
“His fever doesn’t seem as high today as yesterday. You keep a close watch on him Martha and if there is any change, send one of the boys to fetch me. I think with time and plenty of your good cooking the boy should be okay, we’ll just have to wait it out and see.” Doctor Blakefield gently patted the concerned woman’s shoulder.
“Jess, why can’t the boy speak, he’s tried, but nothing comes out?” asked Jacob as he watched the pained expressions that Joe’s face took on each time the boy tried to move about on the bed.
“That could be several things, if the boy can actually speak, then it could be from the trauma, as I said, I’m sure the lad was in the water for quite a spell; could be he was just so frightened by what happened that he temporarily lost his voice. Again, Jacob, time will tell. Do you have any idea who he might be or where he came from?” asked the doctor moving out of the room with Jacob close on his heels.
“None, even the boys say they have never seen him around, and if he was from here, they would know. With all these boys of mine, there isn’t too many kids that they don’t know,” laughed Jacob.
“The boy’s a good looking kid too, under all those bruises; I’m sure if he were from around here, Hannah or Sarah would have seen him before. He looks to be about seventeen or eighteen wouldn’t you say?” replied Doctor Blakefield.
Jacob laughed at the doctor’s description of his children’s knowledge of the area young people, “I agree, on all counts. I’ll walk you to the door doc,” smiled Jacob who winked at his wife as she entered the kitchen and who had overheard the doctor’s comments regarding her seven children.
“Just be sure he keeps quite Martha, and give him those powders I left you if he needs anything for the pain, one more thing, make sure you keep those pillows under his legs; elevating them that way will help lessen the pain some,” the doctor called over his shoulder as he walked with Jacob to his buggy.
“I’ll check in on him tomorrow afternoon, Jacob.” The physician climbed into his buggy and gently slapped the reins onto his horse’s rump, waving good-bye as he headed away from the homestead.
***********
The loud pounding on the door caused Hop Sing to hurry from his kitchen to open the door. “Hello, I can help you?” he asked of the stranger who stood in the doorway, a young boy standing next to the older gentleman with a look of disgust on his face.
“I am looking for a Mr. Cartwright; is this the Ponderosa?” the man inquired of Hop Sing.
“Yes, it is Ponderosa, come in, please,” bowed Hop Sing stepping aside to allow the pair to enter. “Which Mister Cart’lite you want? Mister Ben or Mister Adam? Per’aps you want Mister Hoss Cart’lite?” Hop Sing waved his hand toward the great room where the older gentleman moved to take a seat on the settee.
“Mr. Adam Cartwright, if you please,” he said to Hop Sing then turned to the boy, “Sit,” he instructed the boy in a harsher voice. The boy gave the man a scowl that was not missed by Hop Sing and then complied.
“I get Mister Adam, you wait, be right back,” said Hop Sing as he started for the stairs where Adam was still with Doc Martin and his father in Ben’s bedroom. Gently Hop Sing knocked on the bedroom door before entering and when Adam turned in his direction Hop Sing motioned for Adam to step into the hallway with him.
“Hop Sing, what is it?” asked Adam, glancing over his shoulder at his father who was arguing with the doctor about having to be confined to the bed for several days and not being allowed to help in the search for his missing son.
“I sorry Mister Adam, but gentleman and boy downstairs, wish to speak with you, you come? Yes?” Hop Sing informed his number one son.
“A man and boy? Who are they? Oh, never mind Hop Sing, please tell them I will be right down,” said Adam and patted the shoulder of the family servant, “I just need to make sure that Pa understands that he’s not to get out of that bed.”
“Good luck, Mister Ben stubborn man, he want to find Li’le Joe, no like not able to search for boy,” Hop Sing bowed to Adam and hurried back down stairs.
“Hmm, neither do I,” mumbled Adam to himself as he returned to his father’s bedside.
“You heard what I said Ben, you are not allowed out of this bed, for any reason. Do I make myself clear or do I have to use force?” Paul threatened, trying hard to remain serious. Ben was as bad a patient as Joseph had always been and though things looked grim for this family, Paul could not help but see the similarities between father and son.
“I understand,” growled Ben, “but I have to find my son Paul, surely you understand that?”
“Pa, don’t worry, Adam and I will look for him. I told you before, I’ll not stop until I find him, one way or another,” added Hoss, his large hands stuffed into his pockets as he tried to reassure his bedridden father.
Paul turned to face Ben’s two older boys, “And who is going to stay here and keep your father in this bed?”
“Well, if need be Adam can stay, but regardless, I aim to find Joe. It’s my fault that…” Hoss paused and looked at his father. Seeing the dark scowl that suddenly appeared on Ben’s face, Hoss stomped from the room leaving his sentence unfinished.
The three men swapped looks, each understanding Hoss’ need to be the one to search for his missing brother.
“Let him go Ben, he can’t help but feel as if he’s to blame. It might do him some good and besides, one man on his own just might be able to cover more ground quicker than a whole group of men,” Paul suggested, placing his instruments into his black bag.
“I
suppose you’re right Paul, but I still don’t like it,” Ben stated.
“Pa, I have some business to take care of, you do as Doc says and rest. And don’t worry about Hoss, he’ll be fine and Pa…try not to worry any more about Joe, Hoss and I will set out again once you’re settled,” Adam told his father giving the physician a nod of his head, he slipped out of the room and hurried downstairs.
Adam slowed his steps as he turned the corner of the stairs where he could see into the great room. Sitting on the couch was a young boy around the age of twelve or thirteen. Next to him was a slightly older man, not quite as old has his father thought Adam, but older than himself. What stopped Adam was when the boy raised his head and Adam saw his face. The boy was handsome to say the least, his hair as black as coal with large dark brown eyes and when he smiled, Adam noticed the small dimple in his cheek. Suddenly Adam felt as if his heart had stopped beating, time stood still as he in that instant recalled the gypsy lady’s predication that soon his son would come to take his rightful place, a place vacated by the one he loved as a son. Suddenly the meaning to the words that had been spoken that night in the tent of a fortuneteller made sense to the astonished oldest Cartwright son. Adam gulped and continued down the stairs almost in dread of what he knew was fixing to happen.
“Mister Adam Cartwright I presume?” asked the gentleman as he arose and watched the dark stranger walk slowly down the stairs.
Adam smiled slightly, “You presume correctly, and you are?”
“Mister Cartwright, my name is Jonathon Wheeler, and this young man is my grandson, Davie,” Jonathon introduced himself and the boy, extending his hand to Adam.
Adam clasped the older gentleman’s hand in his and instantly felt the moisture in the palm of the other man’s hand, but smiled graciously. Fighting to keep himself from wiping his own hand on the leg of his pants, Adam turned and offered his hand instead to the young boy.
“Davie, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” greeted Adam who could not keep his eyes from the boy’s face.
Adam felt Jonathon’s eyes on him and something deep within Adam’s mind sent up a warning flag. Facing the boy’s grandfather, Adam masked his face, making it impossible for the stranger to read his thoughts.
“Mister Wheeler, just what is it that you wanted to see me about?” Adam asked cordially.
Wheeler seemed to suddenly break out into a sweat as he faced Adam, “Hmm…Mister Cartwright, I hardly know where to begin,” he stammered.
Adam pointed to the settee indicating that the men sit. “Why don’t you have a seat Mister Wheeler and start at the beginning? Brandy sir?” asked Adam as he moved to pour the drink.
Hop Sing appeared from his kitchen carrying a tray of cookies and milk for the boy and set them on the table in front of the settee. “Boy eat cookies, drink milk, make grow big and strong, like Hoss,” smiled the servant pleasantly.
“I don’t wanna be strong like a horse, you stupid chink,” shouted the boy surprising the others.
Hop Sing’s face fell as he stared in shock at the boy’s insolence. Adam shot the boy a dark warning glare and whirled around to face the lad. Forgetting himself, Adam grabbed the boy by the arm and pulled him to his feet.
“How dare you come into my home and speak to anyone in this house in such a rude manner,” Adam all but shouted.
The boy jerked his arm from Adam’s grasp and glared up at him, “He’s only a slant eyed Chinaman.”
Before Adam could react, the boy ran from the room and out the door, slamming it as he rushed to distance himself from his grandfather and the dark piercing eyes of the stranger.
“Mister Cartwright, I apologize for the boy, he knows better than to speak like that. But he has suffered so much lately, that I fear he tends to strike out at anyone at every opportunity; he seems to have forgotten that there is still kind people in the world,” explained Wheeler.
Adam returned to finish pouring the Brandy and handed a glass to Wheeler. His own he turned upward and swallowed in one gulp and poured a second, which he drank more slowly. His nerves were on edge; everything seemed to be happening, strange things that worried him, such as the arrival of this smart mouth boy.
“Why don’t you get to the reason of your visit?” stated Adam turning toward the elder gentleman, not knowing if he really wanted to hear what the man had to say.
Wheeler nodded his head and began his story. An hour later, Adam sat alone, quietly in his father’s chair, his thoughts causing his head to begin to ache. What the man had told him seemed to fit perfectly with events that had taken place in his own life twelve years earlier.
He had been in Sacramento about the time in question, on business he recalled, for his father. Adam remembered that it had been one of the very first times that Ben had allowed him to be his spokesman in a business deal. It had been an exciting time for him, the meeting had gone well, terms had been reached and then he had stopped in at one of the local pubs. That’s where he had met the beautiful Miriam for the first time. That was also the beginning of a long term relationship where Miriam’s was the first place he always managed to stop either while doing business in Sacramento or on his way to and from San Francisco. Then suddenly the beautiful young woman had disappeared and though he searched for her off and on for years afterwards, she was never heard from again, until now. And then he had left for college back east in Boston, thus forcing him to put an end to his futile search. Now her father and his son shared quarters in the spare bedroom. Adam tried to reason his way around it, but Wheeler knew too many of the details for it to be a hoax. He knew the times when Adam had stopped by, he knew the places where they had visited, and he even knew some of the people they had known. Wheeler had stepped in when Miriam had been killed in an accident just twelve months ago. He had claimed his daughter’s son, his grandson and until now, had been attempting to raise the boy on his own.
Adam had questioned the other man at great lengths as to why Miriam had never tried to get in touch with him to tell him about the boy’s birth. Surely Adam told Wheeler, he would have happily have married her, for he had come to love her deeply. He would have brought her here to the Ponderosa and raised the boy on the ranch, he would have provided her with everything that she could have ever needed or wanted.
Wheeler explained to Adam that Miriam had refused to tell anyone who the father of her child had been, even himself. Wheeler informed Adam that his daughter had always felt as if she were not good enough to marry a Cartwright; she feared that his name would have been dragged through the gutters if he had married her, so she had kept her secret all of these years, until she had been seriously injured. Then out of necessity, she told her father. She had made him promise to raise the boy himself unless he became disabled and then, and only then was he to take the boy to his father, Adam Cartwright.
That was the reason now; Wheeler was a sick man and feared that he would soon die. Thus the reason for bringing Davie to the Ponderosa, so that he himself could return to the city and seek the medical help he needed; Davie could meet his real father, and perhaps over time, would be allowed to claim his rightful place as Adam Cartwright’s son, Davie Cartwright.
Adam leaned back, rested his head against the back of his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose; his head was throbbing. At the sound of soft footsteps, Adam glanced up to find the young boy of his thoughts standing in front of him, his head held low.
“Did you want something?” Adam asked softly, studying the boy’s face yet not sure what he was seeking to find in the boy’s expression.
“Mister Cartwright, I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry for the way I acted this afternoon. I shouldn’t have said what I did to your cook,” Davie looked up from under his long lashes and just as quickly dropped his head again.
Adam placed his finger under the boy’s chin and lifted his head so that he might see the dark eyes of the boy that was his son. “I agree. In this house we do not speak to each other in the manner in which you spoke, do I make myself clear? It will never happen again, understand?”
“Yes sir. But he is just a servant,” whispered the boy.
“Hop Sing may be just a servant in your eyes young man, but to this family he is much more. I will expect you to treat him with respect at all times. If you choose to defy me, I will take drastic measures to see that you will not sit comfortably for several days. That isn’t an idle threat it is a promise. His name is Hop Sing, I suggest you use it, no more vile names, understood?” instructed Adam sternly.
“I understand, sir.” Davie nodded his head.
“Good, then I expect you to apologize to Hop Sing. I will ask him in the morning whether or not you did as instructed. I firmly suggest that you do as I asked.” Adam released the boy’s chin and leaned back in his chair again.
“I’ll go do that now. May I be excused?” Davie quietly wanted to know.
Adam shook his head yes and watched as the boy ran to the kitchen to find Hop Sing.
“Davie,” called Adam stopping the boy in his tracks, “You don’t have to call me Mister Cartwright, I am your father.”
Davie studied Adam’s face, the frown he wore unseen by his new father in the dim light, “What do you want me to call you then?”
“What would you like to call me?” Adam returned the question with one of his own, allowing the boy to make his own decision in the matter.
“Jackass,” mumbled Davie in a low voice that Adam could not hear. “How about for now, I just call you Adam?” he said aloud.
“That’s fine Davie, Adam it is,” replied Adam watching the boy turn and head again for the kitchen, totally unaware that the boy was making faces that Adam could not see.
Closing his eyes, Adam knew he was in for rough times trying to squelch this boy’s bad attitude. This boy thought Adam, my son, my love child. How in the world was he going to explain this one to his own father? Speaking of which…Adam rose and climbed the stairs, taking his time, trying to delay what he knew would come as a shock to his father. And then there was Hoss, whom he knew would welcome the boy as Hoss always welcomed the unfortunate, the misplaced, the wounded, the unloved, with a loving heart and opened arms. Adam thought about his youngest brother, would Joe feel the same when he finally came home, would Joe ever come home or would it be as the gypsy had predicated, the boy would come to take the place of the one loved as a son. Adam ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, his head was still throbbing.
Adam broke the news to his father as simply as he could, he told the truth. He explained everything to his father about just why Jonathan Wheeler and his grandson were here now, at the Ponderosa. Adam did not go into great detail of his romance with Miriam, but instead told of how they met, how they became involved and why they parted ways, she choosing to disappear for whatever reasons, and Adam for his desire to go on to college. Adam found it somewhat difficult to explain to his father about the boy, Davie, who had been conceived and born out of wedlock completely unknown to Adam.
Ben remained quite during Adam’s informative, if rather shocking, description of how all of a sudden, Ben found himself being a grandfather. When Adam had finished, he studied his father’s face, his father’s silence beginning to unnerve him after several minutes of making no comments.
“Pa?” Adam asked meekly feeling as if he were once again a little boy standing in front of his father after being caught doing something that he knew he was not allowed to do.
Ben cast his eyes up at his son and could easily read the almost pleading look buried just beneath the surface of his troubled expression.
“Adam, I’m not sure what to say son. Under different circumstances, I would be thrilled to know I was now a grandfather.” Ben raised his hand as Adam opened his mouth to speak.
“What I would like to know is why, after all of this time, do they show up here?” questioned Ben.
“I told you Pa, Wheeler is a sick man. He wanted to bring the boy here, to me, just in case something happened. He didn’t want his grandson to be left alone, with no one to care for him,” explained Adam sitting on the edge of his seat.
“I understand that son. But for my own satisfaction, I would like to have this man Wheeler checked out, with your approval of course. I want to know for sure, no doubts before jumping into this thing. In the mean time, he and the boy are welcomed to stay here. That way we can get to know the boy, and his grandfather. Is that okay with you?” Ben hoped that Adam would go along with his plan, he would never put the boy out, especially if he needed a place, but certainly not if he truly were his grandson. Yet he needed to be sure, for Adam’s sake as well as the mysterious young boy across the hall.
“That’s fine with me. I’ll go into town in the morning and have Roy send some wires; maybe he’ll do a little detective work for us. I’ll send some wires of my own; I have friends there that would remember Miriam maybe they can give us some answers.” Adam rose, feeling better for having talked to his father.
“Thanks Pa,” smiled Adam.
Ben returned the smile, “In the morning, I’d like to meet this would-be grandson of mine. Right now, I’d like to rest if you wouldn’t mind, my leg is still rather painful.” Ben rested his head back on his pillows and closed his eyes.
Adam moved quietly toward the door but stopped when Ben called out to him. “Adam, I need you to stay here, until we get answers from San Francisco and Sacramento. Hoss will have to go on ahead to search for Joe.”
Ben paused for several seconds, his eyes becoming misty when once again he faced Adam. “I don’t want to give up on finding Joe, but son, I’m beginning to think that we need to face the facts. It’s been nearly two weeks and we haven’t seen a sign of him since the first couple of days. We know he went into the water, but did he come out, we may never know. Joe may well be lost to us forever.” Ben’s voice cracked as he said those last words and Adam hurried to his father’s side.
“Pa, please, don’t lose hope, we’ll find him, I’m sure,” Adam tried to reassure his father.
Ben stared at Adam, his dark eyes turning even darker than their normal chocolate coloring. “Lose hope? Never Adam, I will never give up hope of finding Joseph, do you hear me? Just as soon as this blasted cast comes off, I aim to start all over again if need be, I only meant…” Ben stated firmly.
“I hear you Pa, none of us will. Now please, try to rest. I need to go talk to Hoss; we have to get some things worked out. One of us will be up in a little while.” Adam patted his father’s arm and watched as Ben closed his eyes. It was only minutes before sleep claimed the weary man.
Adam let himself out of the room and went in search of Hoss. He wasn’t hard to find, he and Davie were engrossed in a heated game of checkers while Wheeler had made himself comfortable in his father’s favorite red chair, a brandy in his hand. Adam took in the scene briefly before allowing himself to be acknowledged, something was tugging at his memory; try as he might he could not put his finger on it but deep down Adam felt as if he had met Wheeler before now, but when and where? Later he told himself, after he rested.
Late that night after everyone had retired, Adam slipped into Hoss’ room and woke the big man from a sound sleep. It took several tries before Hoss finally opened his eyes and realized that it was his brother who was shaking his shoulder.
“Dadburnit Adam, what in thunder do ya want? It’s the middle of the night,” grumbled Hoss pulling himself into a sitting position.
“I know Hoss, but I need to talk to you, it’s important,” Adam said as he pulled the chair up close to the bed. “It’s about the boy downstairs, and about Joe.”
“I’m all ears big brother, what about them?” asked Hoss, ready to give his brother his undivided attention.
It was way into the wee hours of the morning before Adam slipped from his brother’s room and into his own. Adam pulled back the covers and lay down on his bed, stretching his full length and propping his head on his hands. When Adam at last closed his eyes, it was Joe’s face that repeatedly kept appearing before his eyes. Joe was trying to tell him something, but Adam could not make out what it was that Joe was saying. Joe was becoming upset with him, his hazel eyes filling with tears, his hand out stretched as if he were trying to grab hold, but then the vision began to fade until at last Joe’s face had disappeared from his sight.
Adam woke just before dawn and forced himself from his warm bed. As he dressed, he listened for the familiar sounds that would alert him that others in the household had already risen. Hearing nothing that might indicate that the others were awake, Adam hurried and finished his dressing and left the house without taking time to eat breakfast. Quickly he saddled Sport and headed into town, he wanted to be at the sheriff’s office first thing that morning to speak with Roy Coffee. He was anxious to get the telegrams sent to his friends in Sacramento to make inquiries as to Jonathan Wheeler and his daughter, Miriam. Unbeknown to Adam, as he walked his horse from the barn, a certain young boy watched with curiosity from behind the window curtains of the upstairs bedroom, an unhappy frown spread across his face.
**********
Hoss had delayed his parting for another week, the need to be sure that his father was going to be all right and with the arrival of the young boy and his grandfather, Hoss felt it his duty to remain at the ranch to help Adam with things that his father was now unable to do. But urged by the feelings that Joe desperately needed him along with the repeated nightmares of seeing Joe’s body lying twisted and broken at the bottom of some unknown location, Hoss informed his father and brother that he would soon be leaving to continue with his search.
**********
Hoss had his gear packed, putting the last of the fresh baked bread that Hop Sing handed to him into his pack. Hoss turned and retraced his steps to the porch where his father sat, leg propped and waiting for him to come bid him goodbye. Behind Ben stood Davie and Wheeler watching the strange way in which father and son acknowledged one another, confused by the obvious affection between the two men.
“Pa, guess I’m ready to go,” Hoss told his father. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find something, may take me awhile.”
“I appreciate that Hoss. Remember son, please be careful and take care of yourself,” said Ben as Hoss helped him to his feet. Ben stood, with the aid of his crutch and placed his free hand on Hoss’ shoulder, “good luck son, God bless you.”
Hoss sniffed his nose, his head hung low nodding, “Thanks Pa. You take care of yourself and do what Doc says.”
“I will Hoss, the sooner I can get this thing off my leg,” Ben pointed at the heavy cast, “the sooner I can join you. Now remember what we talked about son, I want you to keep me posted.”
“Sure ‘nough Pa,” Hoss promised. Turning to face Davie and his grandfather Hoss smiled at the boy. “You be a good boy and help Adam take care of your grandfather,” smiled Hoss as he ruffled the boy’s hair, “both of them,” he added as he turned to go.
“See ya, Pa, Mr. Wheeler,” he tossed over his shoulder as he gently nudged Chubb forward.
All three watched as Hoss rode from the yard, Ben’s heart heavy with worry as his thoughts turned to his youngest son. His mind was brought back to the present at the sound of young Davie’s voice.
“I don’t see what good it’s gonna do, him going off on a wild goose chase like that. His dumb ole brother is probably dead anyway,” mouthed Davie.
“DAVIE,” shouted Wheeler as Ben turned suddenly to face the boy, wobbling on his crutch. Wheeler had grabbed the boy and was about to slap him across his face when he met the dark intense eyes of his host. Instantly he lowered his hand, releasing the lad’s arm. Davie rubbed at the sore spot where Wheeler had pinched his upper arm.
“Davie,” stated Ben in a deep voice that stopped the boy from voicing his sharp retort to the other man, “my son Joseph may very well be dead, in fact the chances that he is still alive are very slim. But that does not mean that Hoss, or any of us will ever give up trying to find out for sure. When you are a family, as my sons and I are, and you love someone as we love Joseph, the desire to quit just because we are tired, or because we presume the worst is not reasons enough. One never gives up hope, for to do so is to admit defeat, which where Joseph is concerned, unless we find out absolutely that he is truly lost to us, we will never stop until we find him, even if it means searching for the rest of our lives. That’s what love and family are all about, devotion, trust, honesty, faith, and dependability. If you cannot depend on your family when things go wrong, beside God, whom can you depend on? I’ll tell you who, no one. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to lie down, my leg is beginning to hurt some.”
Ben left Wheeler and Davie standing on the porch and hobbled into the house, the boy’s words causing disturbing thoughts to enter Ben’s mind. “Please God, help Hoss find my son, please keep both of them safe.”
Wheeler laughed softly and shook his head taking a seat in the rocker that Ben had just vacated. Davie gave the older man a glaring look as he stood in front of his grandfather.
“What’s so funny?” asked the boy disgusted by the way the older man mocked his new- found grandfather.
Wheeler glanced up, “Cartwright, that’s what. Why that stupid man thinks he’ll find his brat, and all that malarkey about family is nothing but hogwash and only fools believe in that stuff,” laughed Wheeler.
Davie glanced toward the house, deep in thought. Ever since he had arrived at the Ponderosa, he had been a witness to scenes among the men who dwelled in the massive log home that he had never encountered before. Wheeler had laughed behind the Cartwright’s backs, so had he in the beginning, but some where along the way, he had stopped laughing and had begun to watch. Listening to Wheeler’s nasty laugh now, disgusted Davie, and the comment that the Cartwrights were fools, Davie thought ridiculous; he couldn’t see that any of them could be classified as fools. Davie walked away, leaving his grandfather to listen to his own laughter as Davie entered the barn.
Cochise whom was stabled in the barn nickered softly as Davie approached. Davie stopped and petted the pinto’s nose and wonder about the boy who owned the horse. Davie knew just from listening to Adam and Hoss talk about their brother that the boy’s name was Little Joe and that he had been swept away by the raging waters over three weeks ago. His family had searched for days with the help of neighbors and friends but after awhile the party of men had had to return to their own lives but the Cartwrights had continued on their own until Ben’s accident. Davie knew that the reason Adam stayed rather to join the other brother in the search was because of him and Davie was shocked at the guilty feelings that had begun to form in his heart.
“It wasn’t suppose to be like this,” whispered Davie to Cochise. “I was supposed to act like I hated them and hated being here, but it’s too hard. They are being so good to me; they try hard to make me feel as if I am one of them and Adam, well, at first I didn’t want to be nice to him, but now…” Davie wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, his emotions confusing him as he slipped his arms about Cochise’s neck and buried his face in the long mane, “I like him and I wish he really were my father, instead of…”
“Instead of who, Davie?”
Davie whirled around; shocked that he had been overheard and speechless as he stared into the brooding eyes of his would be father.
“I asked you a question boy, I expect an answer,” demanded Adam, stepping up to the trembling boy.
“No body, honest Adam, no body,” stammered Davie, tears filling his eyes.
Adam approached the boy and as he reached outward, the boy drew back and covered his head in a protective manner with his arms.
“Put your arms down Davie, I’m not going to hit you,” said Adam in a more controlled voice when he realized that the boy thought he had intended to strike him.
Davie did as he was instructed but refused to meet Adam’s eyes. Adam stepped back and closed the barn door, the action causing fear to rise in the young boy as he sought for an escape.
“Calm down boy, I’m not going to hurt you; I just want to talk to you. Come over here and sit down, I want you to tell me what is going on.” Adam pointed to a bale of hay and motioned for the boy to sit. Scared not to follow Adam’s orders, Davie sat obediently on the bale.
Once the boy was sitting and Adam next to him, Adam begun his interrogation. “Why don’t you explain what you meant by your statement? Who do you wish were your father, and instead of whom?”
Davie avoided meeting Adam’s eyes. “I didn’t mean nothing. I mean…” Davie stammering, his mind frantically searching for the right words that would get him out of this sticky situation and hopefully convince this man he was telling the truth. His well being depended on his lie for if Wheeler found out he had let the cat out of the bag, Davie knew he would be in for the beating of his life.