A Question of Intent

By Debbie B.

The door banged against the credenza causing the occupants in the great room to turn and look up at the loud sound.  All eyes widened at the sight of the young man as he stumbled through the opened door and into the room.

Instantly, Ben Cartwright was on his feet and racing to the lone figure as his youngest son supported his battered body against the solid piece of furniture.

“Joseph, what in the world happened, son?” Ben cried as he wrapped his arms about the slender shoulders and gently guided the young man toward the settee.

“Hoss, get the medical supplies, hurry,” ordered Ben, glancing up at his middle son.

Adam had joined his father on his younger brother’s opposite side and helped lowered the boy onto the couch.

“What happened Joe, who beat you like this?” the raven headed man demanded.

Joe groaned as they lowered his body to the settee, but he managed to look into their eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, “it’s nothing.”

“Nothing!” grumbled Ben, brushing the hair back from Joe’s brow.

He sat on the wide boarded table and took the medical supplies from Hoss who had just returned from the kitchen.

“Your lip is busted, you have a black eye…and you call this nothing?” snorted Ben.

“Pa…really…it doesn’t even hurt…much,” Joe said in a small voice.

The boy tried to push his father’s hand away, in an attempt to show them that he wasn’t hurting as much as they thought, but the action only earned him a scowl from his father.  Ben took a deep breath.

“Stop it, Joe, let me clean you up,” he ordered.  “I want to know who you’ve been fighting with…again.”

Ben stopped his gentle administrations and looked his son directly in the eye.  “And I want the truth,” he said sternly.

“Pa,” Joe said weakly, forcing his own eyes to meet his father’s.  “I don’t lie…and I’m not lying now…it was nothing, honest.  Just some sort of misunderstanding between me and … and…Billy Walker.”

“Billy Walker?” Hoss repeated the name.  “Joe, he’s twice your size…what’cha doin’ fightin’ him?”

“I wasn’t fighting him…he was fighting me,” Joe said as he scrunched up his face.

Ben continued to clean away the dried blood, watching the expressions on his son’s face.  Adam shook his head and grinned at his brother.

“Joe…when someone’s punching you in the face, it’s alright to hit back…or at least try,” he said with a touch of amusement, for it was clear to all of them now that Joe looked worse than he actually was hurt.

Joe groaned when he smiled and looked up at Adam. 

“I didn’t try because he didn’t give me a chance.  I came out of the mercantile store and the next thing I knew, I was face down in the dirt.  When I got up and tried to ask him what he was doing, he punched me again, someone grabbed me and shoved me towards Billy and before I could say my name, he hit me again.  That time I stayed down,” he muttered softly, recalling the feeling he had felt at the time he lay face down in the dirt in front of a small group of his peers that had stopped to see what the fight was about. 

“That was probably the best thing,” Ben said.  “But he didn’t give you a clue as to why he was fighting you?  I thought you said it was a disagreement?”

Joe shook his head slowly from side to side.  “Nope, he just mumbled something about him being as good as any Cartwright and how’d I’d better be watching my back.  He and his pals took off before I could find out any more.”

“Seems like Billy Walker’s carrying a grudge,” Adam stated.

“Don’t know why, I hardly know the kid,” Joe said, finally succeeding in pushing his father’s hand away from his face.  “I’m fine now, Pa…honest,” he said.

“Alright Joe.  This lip isn’t as bad as it first appeared, but you sure are going to have a shiner,” Ben said, ruffling the top of Joe’s mass of curls.  “Just try to avoid Billy.  I’ll have a talk with his father and see if…”

“No Pa!  You can’t do that.  It’ll look like I’m trying to get him in trouble with his father; and we all know what a hot head Mr. Walker is.  Besides, he’s just a boy; he’s more than two years younger than me.  That’s another reason I didn’t hit him back.  Please Pa, just forget it, I’ll handle it…and I promise, I’ll stay away from him, at least until I know why he’s got it in for me,” Joe said, swinging his legs off the side of the settee and sitting up.

“Joe, Billy Walker might only be seventeen, but he’s mean…and let’s not forget big.  Why, that boy’s might as big as me…and…”

Ben turned to his middle son and placed a calming hand on Hoss’ arm.

“Joe’s right you know Hoss…even though Billy Walker is nearly your size, he’s still just a boy, and Joe’s a man.  A man shouldn’t make a habit of hitting a kid…”

“Hey, what’s for supper?  I’m hungry,” Joe said, easing himself onto his feet and trying to change the subject.  The fact that he’d been practically beaten up by a kid…even a big kid, wasn’t doing much for his ego and he decided then and there that it was time to move on.

Ben gently grasped Joe’s arm to help the boy steady himself when he swayed slightly.

“Guess I’m still a bit light headed,” Joe confessed.

“Easy then, let me help you to the table,” Ben offered, guiding Joe toward the dining room table where he pulled out Joe’s chair and lowered Joe into his seat.

Joe glanced up at his father and quickly noted the worried expression on the aged face.  He offered his father a tiny smile.

“I’m fine now, Pa…thanks,” he said in a low voice.

Ben, returned the small smile with one of his own, and nodding his head, he moved to his own chair.

**********

It was several days before Joe went back into town.  He’d been purposely staying away in hopes of letting the Walker kid, simmer down.  His thoughts were that once Billy had time to rethink his actions, Joe planned on having a heart to heart talk with the oversized lad and find out what had possessed the boy to take a swing at him.  Joe was in the dark about the reasons and only briefly wondered if it had anything to do with him dancing with Billy’s girl at the last barn dance a week or so ago.

“I’ll wait for you at the saloon,” Joe told Adam as he dismounted and laced the reins over the hitching post.

“I won’t be long,” said Adam, doing the same. 

He stepped up on the boardwalk and paused, looking over his shoulder at his younger brother who strolled out, into the street.

“Joe?”

Joe stopped and turned.  “Yeah?”

“Stay out of trouble,” grinned Adam as he tipped his hat and moved on down the crowded boardwalk toward the livery where he had business to take care of.

Joe laughed lightly and shook his head.  He headed toward the saloon.  It was hot and his throat was dry and a cool beer was what he needed most at present time.  Joe pushed apart the half swinging doors and entered the bar.  He paused, glancing around to see who was there.  Might have been simpler just to say who was not present, for being Saturday, it seemed as if every cowhand in the county had ventured in, all for the same reasons as Joe had done, to cool off and chat with a few friends.

Joe edged his way up to the bar and ordered a beer.  When the barkeep set the beer down, he grabbed the mug and took a long swig, turning and placing his back against the bar so that he could survey the room for the second time.  Not seeing anyone in particular that he wanted to converse with, Joe turned back, catching his reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall behind the bar.  He noted his black eye and how dark the bruise had become.  The mar on his face brought to mind Billy Walker and he wondered again at the boy’s angry attempt to fight with him.

As if on cue, a loud voice calling his name, jarred to silence the rumble of mixed voices.  A hush fell over the room as Joe glanced up into the mirror and saw the crowd behind him part, making way for Billy Walker to walk a narrow path toward him.  Joe took a sip of his beer, keeping his eye on the figure in the mirror.  When Billy was standing directly behind him, Joe carefully set the mug of ale down and turned slowly around to face the other young man.

“Hey Billy,” Joe said calmly.

“Hey Cartwright,” snarled Billy in an unfriendly tone.  “Ya face looks like hell,” laughed Billy. 

Automatically, Joe’s hand went to the side of his bruised face and he touched his eye.  He forced himself to smile.

“You throw a pretty good punch, Billy,” Joe said.  “Um…I was wondering something though…wanna tell me why you hit me?  I don’t think I did anything to…”

“I wanted too, and I could…so I just did,” the other man stated.  “I don’t like ya, either.  I don’t like ya, ya old man, or ya brothers.  In fact, I hate you; I hate all you Cartwrights…”

“Why Billy?  What did we ever do to you?” Joe asked, eyeing how Billy’s expression had changed and how he was now wearing a look that told Joe to be wary.

“Because ya think ya so much better than anyone else…your whole family does, but ya ain’t.  Ya ain’t one bit better’n me…and I can prove it…I can do anything ya can do and do it better…”

“That’s nice Billy, but I don’t care what you can or can’t do, understand?  I’ve never presented myself to you or to anyone else, as being better than anyone, and neither has my family.  So what’s really eating at you…”

Before Joe could finish his sentence, Billy had doubled up his fist and planted it into Joe’s stomach.  Instantly Joe’s body folded over in a protective manner.  Billy grabbed Joe by the hair of the head and yanked Joe into an upright position, belting him for a second time.  When Billy let go of the chestnut curls, Joe’s knees folded and the youngest Cartwright sank to the floor, moaning.  As Joe lay sprawled on the floor, Billy drew back his foot as if to kick at the wounded man, but Joe caught the movement from the corner of his eye and somehow managed to roll away.  Once clear of Billy’s sharp pointed boot, Joe struggled to get to his feet.  He leaned his weight against the nearest table.

“Now look Billy…” he stammered.  “I’m getting just a might tired of this…”

“Then fight me…like a man…”

“You’re just a kid!” shouted Joe, trying to be heard above the hum that had begun buzzing around the room.

“I’m not a kid, hell…look at me…do I look like a fool kid to you?  Do I hit like a kid?” Billy shouted back.

“No…you hit like a man…you talk like a man, but you’re still a kid and I can’t fight a kid…”

“Coward!” growled Billy, his dark eyes blazing with anger.

Joe took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.  He refused to be goaded into a fight with a young man who was nearly two years younger than himself, even if the ‘boy’ had a fist as hard and solid as a brick wall.

“It won’t work Billy.  I’m not about to fight you…”

Billy stood for half a second, his mouth hung open in disbelief and then he turned, smiling at the patrons.  He nodded his head, laughing out loud.

“Ya heard’em…he’s admittin’ he’s a coward.  The mighty Little Joe Cartwright is afraid of me,” boasted Billy, turning to all those who stood listening and watching.

Billy turned back to Joe, a smirk on his face.  He glared at Joe.

“Go home little man…before I hurt you again,” Billy Walker sneered.

It took every ounce of willpower for Joe to walk out of the saloon, especially with the sound of Billy’s boisterous laughter lingering in his ears.  As Joe shoved apart the swinging doors, he almost collided with his older brother.  Both stopped, staring into the face of the other.

“What happened to you?” Adam said in a low, deep voice.

“Forget it,” snapped Joe, brushing past Adam and crossing the street.

Adam lingered for a moment, glanced into the saloon to see what the ruckus was about and then hurried to mount up, racing down the street to catch up with Little Joe.  Had either taken the time to glance back toward the saloon, both would have seen Billy Walker and a small band of younger men, standing in the doorway, watching their departure.

“I’ll get him to fight me yet, ya just wait and see,” piped Billy.

“How?” questioned one young man.

“Not sure, but I’ll think of something…” laughed Billy, returning to the bar and the excitement within.

**********

“And you just walked away?” Ben asked.

He sat behind his massive desk and watched as Joe paced back and forth in front of him. 

“I’m proud of you, son.”

“Well, Pa…it was the hardest thing I’ve had to do.  Do you have any idea what it felt like, being called a coward in front of all those people…by a kid no less?” Joe stated, pausing to look his father’s way.

“I know you must have wanted to strike back, but I’m glad you didn’t son.  You made the right decision, walking away.”

Joe sighed and took a seat in the vacant chair next to the desk.  He leaned back, shaking his head.

“I just don’t understand what drives that kid, Pa.  I mean, I hardly know him, and all he wants is to fight me.  He has something gnawing at him to prove to himself and everyone else that he can take me in a fight.  Only thing, I think he’d kill me if he could…”

“Surely not, Joseph…”

“You didn’t see the look in his eyes, Pa.  The boy hates me with a passion, and I don’t know why,” Joe explained.  “I don’t know what to do about it anymore; it seems like every time I go into town, he’s there, waiting for me.  I can’t stay out of town forever, I can’t hide…”

“Of course you can’t, but you can still avoid him…”

“Pa…I’m not running from him anymore.”  Joe stood up, moving to the front of the desk where he plopped down on the corner.  “One of these days, I’m going to have to fight him.  I’m not sure I can take him, but I’ll have to try, or he will never let up on me.”

“Joe’s right, Pa.  I heard the way that kid was mouthing off after Joe left the saloon.  He had everyone cheering him on, taunting him to fight Joe,” Adam said as he rounded the corner and joined his family.

“Maybe I could have a talk…”

“No, Pa…not with Mr. Walker…”

“Joseph, don’t interrupt…I wasn’t going to say Mr. Walker, I meant Roy Coffee; just to see what he thinks you should do,” Ben explained.

“Probably will say the same thing you said, ‘avoid him’, but that isn’t always easy to do,” Joe determined.  “I suppose I could ride over to the Walker place and have a talk with both Billy and his Pa.”

“Why don’t you let me do it, Joe?  Billy might get defensive if you show up, but as far as I know, he doesn’t have a problem with me…yet,” offered Adam.

“He hates us, Adam, all of us; it won’t be easy…talking to Mr. Walker is about like talking to a tree stump…everyone knows how hard headed he is,” Joe forewarned.

“Well, wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.  I’ll just explain to Walker what’s been going on and let him know that you’ve avoided fighting with his son but that if Billy keeps pushing, there’s liable to be a showdown,” Adam explained.

“Yes, Adam, I think it might be good if you were the one to see them.  I’d go, but obviously Joe doesn’t want me to do it…”

“Oh Pa…think how it would look…Billy picks a fight with a man at least two years older than he is, and that man’s father runs to Billy’s father to complain that his son is being picked on…shucks…sounds like two schoolboys fighting instead of a man and a boy,” snickered Joe.

“I suppose you’re right Joe, Adam is the right choice.  Just be careful Adam…” warned Ben.

“Don’t worry…I think I can handle it, if not…” Adam smiled and turned to his younger brother, “I guess you’ll just have to fight the big galoot.”

Joe giggled and shook his head.  “That’s just it Adam, I don’t want to fight him, he’s big…really big!  And just between the three of us,” Joe glanced at his father and saw that Ben was smiling, “I’m not so sure I could take him…and I don’t have a hankering to get myself hurt!”

The three men laughed softly, though deep down inside of each one, each was aware of the pending danger that lurked within the heart of Billy Walker.

Joe opened the door and walked out onto the boarded porch where he leaned against the post, staring into the late afternoon sky.  He was unaware that behind him, his father had softly approached.

“Wonder how Hoss is making out in Genoa?” Ben said, surprising Joe.

“Oh, hey Pa, I didn’t hear you come up.  Guess he’s doing alright.  He sure was excited about going to that auction,” Joe said, looking back toward the barn.  “Wonder what’s keeping Adam, he should have been home hours ago?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Adam, he can take care of himself,” smiled Ben, placing a reassuring hand on Joe’s shoulder.

Joe glanced up at his father, a crooked grin on his face.  “Don’t you think I know that, Pa?” he said.  “It’s just that…well…that whole Walker family is strange…and…maybe I should have gone along with him…”

“Joe,” Ben said with a bit of fatherly concern in his voice, “stop worrying, he’ll be home when he gets here.  He’s probably gone into town, now come back inside and stop fretting.”

Ben gently guided Joe back toward the door and inside, but not before Joe got one last glimpse of the deepening shadows that had finally begun to consume the last lingering rays of the fading sun.

*********

Joe tried to concentrate on the opened book he held in his hand, but his thoughts continued to remain on his older brother.  He glanced up at his father who sat in the red leather chair and who seemed occupied with reading his paper.  When Joe could stand no more, he set his book aside and rose to his feet, noting that Ben glanced up and peered over the top of the paper.

“I’m just going to get some air,” Joe said, wishing that he didn’t have to explain himself to his father, who only smiled and returned to his reading.

Once outside, Joe let out a long breath and started toward the barn where a light burned softly.  Halfway across the yard, he stopped, hearing the sound of an approaching horse.

Sport moved nervously into the yard and stopped.  His rider, slumped over the saddle, slipped to the ground in a heap at the horse’s hooves.  Instantly, Joe ran across the yard to his older brother and carefully rolled Adam over, unto his back.

“Adam!” exclaimed Joe when he saw his brother’s battered face.  “PA!  PA!  GET OUT HERE, QUICK!” shouted Joe at the top of his lungs.

“Adam…what happened, who did this?” Joe muttered, carefully taking his brother into his arms.

Joe heard the sound of this father’s footsteps approaching from behind and glanced over his shoulder.

“He’s been pistol whipped!” snarled Joe in an angry tone as Ben knelt beside him and inspected his older son’s injuries for himself.

“Dear God,” muttered Ben.  “Let’s get him inside and then send a man for the doctor,” Ben ordered, slipping his hands beneath Adam’s body and helping Joe to lift him.

Together they carried Adam inside and upstairs to his room where they gently lowered him to the bed.  Adam moaned softly.

“Adam?” Ben whispered, bending low over his son’s body.

“Pa…”

“I’m here,” Ben assured his son.  “What happened, Adam, who beat you?”

“Walker…Billy…he…oh…”

Joe’s eyes widen; a deep scowl branded his forehead and he stood up straight, glaring down at the battered face that hours before had been unmarred and handsome to look upon.

He watched the painful expressions dash across his brother’s face and the guilt he felt for having involved his brother, deepened within.  Joe moved back to the bed and squatted down so that he could be closer to Adam.

“Adam…I promise…I’ll make him pay for what he’s done to you,” whispered Joe in a low voice.  He touched Adam’s bloodied and bruised face and then stood, ready to leave, an air of urgency about him.

“Joe…no,” mumbled Adam rolling his head from side to side.  “Big…too big…don’t…want you…hurt.”

Joe had paused to look back at Adam and then glanced quickly at his father before heading for the door.

“JOSEPH!” Ben called, rising to face his younger son.  “Just where do you think you are going, young man?”

Joe spun around to face his father.  “Where do you think?  To settle this, once and for all,” he snapped at Ben.

Ben crossed the room and grabbed tightly to Joe’s upper arm, a dark warning look on his face.

“Oh no you don’t.  You’re staying right here…we’ll let the sheriff handle this!”

Joe’s nostrils were flaring and his breathing was labored as he looked into Ben’s eyes.

“Not this time…Adam’s hurt because of me…this is all my fault, Pa!  Billy Walker wanted a fight, I’m going to give him one!”  Joe jerked his arm free from Ben’s fingers and rushed from the room before Ben could say another word.

Ben hurried to follow, but stopped at the top of the stairs, calling out to Joe who had stopped to strap on his gun and holster.

“Joseph…please…don’t do something you’ll regret later…”

“Ah Pa…I’m not out to kill anyone!  Have a little more faith in me than that!” shouted Joe as he stood at the door long enough to look up at his father.  “I’ll send for the doctor…don’t worry, Pa…I won’t let anything happen.”

**********

Joe rode Cochise hard, driven by his anger and guilt at what he deemed his fault in letting Adam handle a situation that he now knew, he should have handled.  He had no idea what he was going to say to Billy Walker, or do for that matter.  He did consider the fact that he might leave the Walker place in much the same shape as his brother had.  Joe set it in his mind to remain calm, talk to the boy, and his father if necessary and then take legal actions like his father had suggested.  He felt sure that Adam had not initiated the fight but that in all probability, Billy was responsible, for after all, Adam had been pistol-whipped, and the how and why was still a mystery to Joe, one he wanted an answer for.  He knew in his heart that Adam would not have struck the boy, if for no other reason, then for the same reasons that he had not fought with the kid.

Jessie Walker was standing on the front porch when Joe pulled Cochise to a stop in front of the hitching post.  The big man stood silent, eyeing Joe as he dismounted and tied the reins.

“Evening, Mr. Walker,” Joe said as he turned and faced the man who had moved from the porch to the yard.

“Howdy Little Joe,” Jessie said as he leaned against the post that supported the porch.  “What brings ya out this way?”

Joe took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “I wanted to talk to you…about Billy.”

“Billy?  What’s he gone and done this time?” Jessie questioned, straightening his long frame.

“Well…I’m not sure how to say this…but…my brother Adam was by earlier…and it seems that he and Billy…or Billy that is, pistol whipped Adam and…”

“What!” shouted Jessie, tossing the match down that he’d been holding between his teeth.  “Why, ya brother Adam’s nearly twice the age my son…Billy’s just a boy…”

“Mr. Walker…let me explain…”

“There’s nothing to explain young man…if your brother came here lookin’ to fight my boy, and ended up gettin’ himself hurt…then I reckon he got what he deserved!” stormed Jessie Walker.

“That’s just it, he didn’t come here looking for a fight, he came here to talk to Billy…just talk, nothing more…and Billy turned on Adam and beat him with a pistol…Adam never took a punch at your boy…”

“You know that for a fact?  That Adam didn’t take a swing at my boy?”

“Well…I mean…”

“WELL?  Do ya or don’t ya?  Did ya brother strike out at Billy?” ranted Jessie.

Joe took another deep breath, suddenly not sure what had transpired and glanced toward the doorway where Billy had silently been standing, listening to the conversation.

“Adam would never hit a kid, even a big kid like Billy…”

“Did so!” Billy said, moving into the light where his father could see him.  “He came after me, and I had to protect myself…”

“That’s not true and you know it Billy,” Joe said, facing the boy.  Joe’s face was red with anger, for he knew the boy was lying.

“You’ve been trying to start a fight with me for weeks now and Adam just came over here to find out why, that’s all…”

“Liar…”

Joe bristled at the word.  His fingers folded into tight fists and he gritted his teeth. “I don’t lie, Billy,” he said in as calm a voice as he could.

Joe turned to Mr. Walker and tried to explain. 

“Mr. Walker…for whatever reasons, known only to your son here, Billy’s tried picking a fight with me every time I’ve been in town.  He’s even hit me a couple of times…just look at this shiner, but I’ve never hit him back…and neither has my brother.  All Adam came here for tonight was to ask your son why he is so set on fighting me…” Joe turned back to Billy.  “And I’d like to know why, myself, and I’d like to know why you pistol whipped my brother.”

Jessie Walker moved around in a circle until he stood behind Joe.  Joe, using caution, turned his own body sideways where he could keep an eye on both the older man and his son.  Their movements and the exchanges they passed between one another, alerted Joe to pending trouble.

“You callin’ my boy a liar, Little Joe?” the older Walker questioned.

“No sir…but…”

“Good thing,” Jessie said.  He looked over at his son.  “Ya been tryin’ to pick a fight with Cartwright, Billy?”

“No sir Pa…it’s the other way around.  Little Joe’s been egging me to fight him, ask anyone in town…”

 

“That’s right, Mr. Walker…ask anyone…ask the men who were in the saloon Saturday night, they’ll tell you…Billy tried to start something then, and…”

“Ain’t true Pa…he’s lyin’, tryin’ to make me look like it’s me what’s causin’ trouble,” Billy said quickly.

“Well now son, reckon we ought’a settle this thing right here and now,” Jessie said, moving back a couple of paces.

Billy grinned at his pa and stepped down off the porch.  Joe moved cautiously backward, distancing himself from both men.

“I didn’t come here to fight Mr. Walker,” Joe said.  “Just to…”

“Too late for talkin’, Little Joe…ya here…obviously for what ya think my son did to ya brother.  And since Billy’s just a boy, he had every right to defend himself…”

“I know that…if Adam started anything, which he didn’t, but whatever happened, Billy had no right to pistol whip my brother!” argued Joe.

“I didn’t pistol whip anyone,” Billy lied.  “Maybe he ran into robbers on his way home…”

“Not likely Billy, Adam told me you used your gun on him…”

As Billy advanced toward him, Joe pulled his pistol from his holster and pointed it at the boy. 

“I’m taking you into the sheriff Billy, until we can get this mess straightened out,” ordered Joe, nodding his head toward the horses.  “Get on your horse.”

Joe was so intent on keeping his eyes on Billy that he failed to see Jessie Walker move, ever so slightly to a stack of wood that rested at the steps of the porch.  As Billy moved slowly, never turning his back to Joe, toward his horse, Jessie raised the stick of wood high over his head and slammed the piece across the top of Joe’s left hand, forcing the gun from Joe’s fingers.

Joe cried out in pain as he felt the bone in his thumb snap.  He instinctively grabbed his broken hand and drew it instantly to his body.  Billy laughed loudly, jarring Joe from his momentary stupor as he looked up.  Billy Walker’s fist slammed into Joe’s face, spinning the smaller man around in a complete circle and causing Joe to topple over, falling face down in the dirt.  Quickly, Joe scrambled to his feet and when Billy approached for the second time, Joe swung out his right fist, putting all the power he could muster into the punch.

Billy stopped, frozen to the spot as Joe’s fist connected with his chin.  The massive hunk staggered backward, his arms frayed out to his sides in an attempt to keep from falling.  Billy’s body plummeted to the ground, his head banging hard against the wooden step and then bouncing off to one side.  The boy lay motionless, his father scrambled to his son’s side, taking the boy’s head in his hands and gently lifting it.  Jessie stared in horror at the blood that coated his fingers.  He turned, glazing up at Joe.

“He’s dead…you killed my boy!” Jessie squeaked in a low voice.

Jessie lowered Billy’s head onto the ground and rose slowly to his feet, turning to face Joe who had not moved and who looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“MURDERER!” screamed Jessie, flinging his fist out and striking Joe on the side of the face.

Joe teetered back and forth on his heels and then pitched over backwards, his legs flying out over his head as he rolled across the ground.  Dazed from the force of the blow, Joe stayed down, shaking his head slowly from side to side attempting to clear the cobwebs.  He glanced over his shoulder at Jessie who had returned to his son’s side and who was now cradling the boy’s head in his arms.

Joe staggered to his feet, picking up his gun and slipping it into his holster.  He brushed the back of his right hand across his lips to wipe away the blood, swaying as he approached the weeping man and his son.

“Mr. Walker…”

“GET OUT OF HERE!” bellowed the grieving father.

Joe swallowed; he could not believe that the boy was dead, that he had caused Billy to die.  The promise he made to his father a short time ago returned to haunt him.  Joe felt his body tremble, it had been an accident…hadn’t Jessie Walker attacked him first and forced him to defend himself against both the father and the son?

Joe unlaced Cochise’s reins and swung his body into the saddle.  He gripped the saddle horn, glancing down at Jessie, numb to the pain in his left hand

“I’m sorry,” Joe muttered, turning his horse around and kicking gently at his mount’s sides.

**********

Joe was forced to stop twice on his way home.  Both times he dismounted and spewed the contents of his stomach onto the ground.  His belly churned, fear gripped his heart and the pain in his hand had become nearly unbearable. 

When he at last reached home, he glanced up at the window on the second story and saw that the lamp burned lowly.  He dismounted and without even securing his mount, stumbled passed the physician’s buggy to the front door.  As Joe pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped inside, Ben rounded the corner from the kitchen, a pitcher of water in his hands.  He stopped, staring at Joe’s battered face.

“Joseph…what on earth happened?” Ben said, setting the pitcher on the credenza and helping Joe to the settee.

The concerned father sat on the table facing Joe.  Ben wore a worried expression on his face as he watched Joe’s chin begin to quiver.  Dread of what might have happened washed over him.

“Joe…answer me,” Ben said.  “Tell me nothing bad happened….”

Joe raised his head, meeting his father’s gaze with tear filled eyes.  His chin quivered uncontrollably. 

“He’s…dead…” gulped Joe as the tears floated over the rims of his eyes and dripped slowly down the front of his face.

Ben sat in stunned silence for a long moment before being able to find words with which to speak.

“Tell me what happened, son,” Ben questioned. 

He had a sick feeling deep in his gut that something horrible had taken place, something of which he prayed Joe would not regret later on.

He moved to the settee and sat down next to Joe, noticing for the first time how his son cradled his left hand.  Tenderly, Ben reached out and took the broken hand into his own.

“How did you break your hand?”

Joe, his eyes filled with tears, swallowed and glanced down at the now bruised hand.

“I didn’t hit him with it…Mr. Walker hit me with a stick of firewood and broke my hand…”

“Mr. Walker?”

Joe nodded.

“Perhaps you’d better start from the beginning.”

“How’s Adam?” Joe asked before telling his father what had transpired.

“Doc Martin’s with him now.  He’s pretty well battered, but he’s going to be alright, in time.  Now please Joe, tell me about this,” Ben said, holding Joe’s hand carefully upward.

“I went to see Billy, just like I said I was going to…and when I got there, Mr. Walker was outside, so I decided to talk to him first.  I tried to tell him about Adam, but he got angry and twisted everything I said around.  He made it sound as if Adam came there looking to fight Billy and that Billy was only defending himself.  He used the excuse that Billy was just a boy, and Adam, a full grown man,” explained Joe.

“And then?”

“And then Billy came outside and started lying about trying to pick a fight with me, told his pa it was the other way around and then…then…I’m not sure what happened.  I mean, Mr. Walker seemed to think Billy and I should settle things right there, that’s when Billy started saying that maybe Adam had run into robbers on the way home and they beat him.  I pulled my gun on Billy…” Joe glanced up at his father.

“I was only going to make him come with me to the sheriff’s…until we could sort things out…but then Mr. Walker grabbed the firewood and knocked my gun out of my hand…that’s when my hand got broken,” continued Joe.

“Billy hit me then…by that time, I was mad and I came up fighting.” 

Again, Joe looked into his father’s eyes.  “I didn’t mean to kill him, Pa…honest,” he sobbed.

“I believe you son…go on…what happened next?”

“When I got up, I took a swing at Billy…I hit him, hard, on the chin and he fell backward.  He must have hit his head on the wooden step, 'cause the back of his head was bleeding and he wasn’t moving.  Mr. Walker was bent over the boy, screaming at me that I killed his son.  He stood up and knocked me to the ground.  I thought he was going to hit me again, but he started calling me a murderer and told me to get out…so I left and…came home,” Joe finished, lowering head. 

A lone tear dripped from the end of his chin.  “I’m sorry…I never meant for the boy to be hurt…honest,” he said, finally looking up at his father.

Ben could see the remorse in the hazel eyes and the downtrodden expression broke his heart.

“I know you didn’t, Joe…I’m just sorry that it came to this.”

“What am I going to do, Pa?” Joe asked, rising to his feet and moving to the fire.  He stared into the low burning embers and then turned around.

“I suppose, come morning, we’ll ride into town and tell the sheriff what happened.  Right now, I want you to come upstairs with me and let Paul have a look at your hand.”

Ben moved to his son’s side and placed a caring hand on Joe’s shoulder.  “Come on Joe,” Ben said in a soft voice as he gently urged Joe up the steps.  His face didn’t show it, but the inner turmoil he felt was causing him to become nauseous.

*********

Adam’s condition, though still grave, had improved overnight.  He lay in a drug-induced sleep, giving his body time to begin the healing process.  Sitting on the bed next to him, Joe watched the slight movements of his brother’s eyes behind the closed lids.  He noted the bruises and the cuts made by the pistol and the deep gash across Adam’s forehead that had been so carefully stitched by the physician’s skilled fingers.

Joe glanced down at his hand, the pain had eased some after taking the pain powers that the doctor had left for him, but the medicine had done nothing to ease his guilty conscience.  He felt responsible for all of it, Adam’s battered and bruised body, the death of the young boy, his father’s worries, even his own broken hand.

“I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this, Adam,” Joe whispered, lowering his head in remorse.

“Son?” Ben called from the doorway.

Joe looked up and seeing his father, stood to his feet. 

“We should go now,” Ben advised as he entered the room and moved to the side of the bed.  “Adam should sleep for several hours; Hop Sing will stay with him until…we get back.”

“You really think Roy will let me come back?” questioned Joe.

“I don’t see why not…from what you’ve told me, son, you were only protecting yourself…”

Joe scrunched up his face and walked to the door.  “Mr. Walker didn’t see it that way…he called me a murderer…”

Without another word, Joe moved out of the room.  Ben nodded to Hop Sing who had just entered to sit with Adam while Ben and Joe went into town to see the sheriff, and then followed after Joe.

They had just stepped into the morning sun when the sheriff, Jessie Walker and Clem Foster rode into the yard.  Beside him, Ben heard Joe sigh.  He cast his eyes toward his son and noted the look of dread on Joe’s handsome face.  Ben touched his hand to Joe’s arm and turned to greet the sheriff.

“Mornin’ Roy…Jessie…Clem,” greeted Ben.

“Howdy Ben…Joe,” responded Roy Coffee.  “I suppose ya know why we’re here?” the sheriff asked as he dismounted.

“Yes…we were just on our way into town to talk to you…”

“ARREST HIM!  HE KILLED MY BOY!” stormed Jessie.

Ben felt Joe draw back and he tightened his hold on Joe’s arm.  “Easy son,” he muttered.

Roy flashed dark angry eyes at Jessie Walker and waved his finger at the man.

“Ya just sit there and keep ya mouth shut…I’ll handle this!” ordered Roy in a voice that quickly brought order to the situation. 

Roy turned to Ben and Joe, a look that spoke silently his dismay at having to do what he was forced, by law, to do.

Roy gulped, “murder,” he continued.  “I gotta take ya in, son.”

Joe’s eyes had taken on a near panic look as he turned to his father.

“I didn’t…”

“I know Joe,” Ben said quickly.  Ben squeezed Joe’s arm and nodded his head toward the sheriff.  “You go with Roy…we’ll get this sorted out, I promise son.”

“Yessir,” Joe said, glancing at Jessie Walker who stared at him such hate that it caused Joe’s blood to run cold.

“I’ll have to have ya gun, son,” Roy said, holding out his hand.

Joe undid his gunbelt and passed it to his father instead.  Ben took the firearm and while he watched his son mount his horse, he rolled the belt up.

“Ain’t ya gonna put the cuffs on’em?” growled Jessie.

“NO!” snapped Roy.  “Ya ain’t gonna try anythin’, are ya Joe?” Roy asked as he mounted his horse.

“No…”

Jessie pulled his pistol from his holster and pointed it at Joe.  “Well, just in case ya thinkin’ on it, I’ll be watchin’ ya back…”

“Put that thing away!” Roy shouted.  “NOW!” 

He waited until Jessie had holstered his gun and then glanced down at Ben.

“Ya comin’, Ben?”

“You bet I am; I’m most anxious to get this matter settled.  You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Ben called as the small band of men rode from the yard.

**********

By the time that Ben reached the sheriff’s office, Joe was safely locked away in the jail cell.  He paced back and forth, nervously waiting for his father to bail him out.  He had explained to the sheriff what had happened and what had led up to the attack and the final demise of the young Walker boy and he was anxious to be let out.  All he wanted right now was to go home to be with Adam.

“I can’t Ben…I just can’t,” explained Roy.

Ben’s eyes narrowed, showing his anger as he paced back and forth in front of the sheriff’s desk.  He paused, leaning down over the top of the table and into the sheriff’s face.  Ben slammed his fist down, hard, on the desk.

“I want to know why!” he shouted in his deep baritone voice.

“Because it’s the law, Ben…and I have to follow the rules.  He’s charged with murder…I can’t post bail…Joe’s just gonna have to stay locked up until a trial…”

“That’s ridiculous!” proclaimed Ben.  “Why can’t you release him into my custody…I’ll be responsible for him.  Good lord Roy, it’s not like he’s going to run or…”

“He might…he just might, Ben.  He’s scared, and he knows he’s guilty and…”

“Guilty?  GUILTY!  OF WHAT…PROTECTING HIMSELF?” Ben shouted angrily, his eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

“BEN! Calm down…or I’ll have to ask you to leave.  Now ya know I don’t like this any better’n you do…I don’t believe Little Joe killed that boy on purpose, but ya gotta look at it another way.  He went looking for the Walker boy, he admitted that…he fought with the boy, and now that boy’s dead…Joe admitted all that to me…and, I might add, in front of witnesses.  Now under the circumstances, there ain’t one thing I can do but hold the boy until a trial date is set…”

“Alright…alright.  But I’m telling you now, Roy…I’ll not stand by and watch my son be railroaded into a sham of a trial and then let him hang for something he’s not responsible for.” 

Ben had leaned down across the desk and was shaking his finger under Roy’s nose.  Roy pushed back his chair and stood up, facing Ben eye to eye across the expanse of his desk.

“Ben, if that’s a threat…”

“It’s not a threat Roy…it’s a…promise!” stated Ben, taking advantage of getting in the final word.

“I want to see my son…if it’s alright with you,” he said after taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“It’s fine with me…I figured you would,” Roy said, moving to collect the jail key from where it hung on the peg by the door that separated the office from the cells.

Ben started to follow after the sheriff, but stopped when Roy turned back around.  “Leave your gun on my desk, Ben.”

Ben glanced at his pistol and then removed it from his holster and placed it on the desk.  He then marched through the opened door to Joe’s cell and waited while Roy unlocked the iron door and permitted him to enter the cell with Joe.  He waited until Roy had secured the door and left before turning to face his son.  The fear and apprehension that appeared on his youngest son’s face broke his heart.

“Hello son,” Ben said, offering a small smile in an attempt to calm his son.  “How are you doing?”

“Great…just great Pa…look at me…I’m shaking like a leaf,” Joe said, moving to his cot and sitting down.

Ben sat down next to Joe and slipped his arm about the trembling shoulders.

“It will be alright, son, I promise you…”

Joe glanced sideways at his father, all the doubt he felt showed in his hazel colored eyes.

“Sure it will…I’m gonna hang, Pa…even I know that…”

“That’s enough of that kind of talk Joseph…you are not going to hang…I…promise,” Ben said.

“Promise?  Come on Pa…what are going to do if I’m found guilty at that trial?  Break me out of jail?  Hide me out until you find some way to get me out of the country…come on Pa…that’s not like you at all…”

“I will if it comes to that Joe…I won’t let you hang,” Ben promised again.

Joe sat quietly and looked long into Ben’s face trying to decipher the expressions on his father’s worried face.

“You’re joking, aren’t you Pa?” stammered Joe when he knew in his heart that his father would never allow for a hanging…regardless of the outcome of the trial or of the consequences to himself, should he do as he had suggested he would.

“No…I’m not joking.  Now listen son, we need to talk…”

With heads bowed closely together, Ben began whispering out his plan.

***********

The trial had been set for two days from the day that Joe had been taken prisoner.  He had all but worn a path around the perimeter of his little cell and his constant pacing had even begun to wear on Roy’s nerves to the point that Roy had started keeping the door closed between the cells and his office.  The isolation was most unsettling for Little Joe who was use to being out in the wide-open spaces and found the confining little cell just that, confining.

“Ya got visitors, Little Joe,” Roy called as he opened the door and stood to one side to let Joe’s company enter the jail block.

Joe craned his neck to see who had come for a visit and was surprised to see both his brothers standing before. 

“Adam!” smiled Joe. 

His eyes sparkled with joy at seeing his older brother.

“You’re up and about…how you feeling?” Joe asked, moving back while Roy unlocked the cell door to admit both Adam and Hoss.

Adam grinned at his kid brother and moved slowly to the cot where he carefully lowered his body.

“Stiff and sore…but I’ll live,” he grinned.  “How about you, kid…how are you doing?” Adam asked, taking in the haggard appearance of his little brother.

“Tired of being here…I feel like a trapped animal,” Joe said as he leaned against the bars.  “I won’t lie to you either…I’m…scared.  That lawyer fellow Pa hired said it didn’t look too good for me…”

“Now don’t go borrowin’ trouble little brother,” Hoss said as he placed his heavy frame on the cot next to Adam.  “Pa’s got several witnesses that said they’d tell all about Billy Walker and the way he was always tryin’ to pick a fight with ya.”

“I know…Pa told me…but Hoss…I went looking for Billy.  And I was mad…for what he did to Adam.  I hit the boy while in a fit of rage…and now that boy’s dead…”

“But it was an accident…you were defending yourself,” Adam said.

“Sure…but who’s gonna believe me?  My only witness was the boy’s father…so like the lawyer said, it’s my word against his…” Joe stopped talking and turned to look out the window.  “I admit I killed him…but it was an accident…it wasn’t intentional.”  He turned back around, a pathetic look on his young face.  “I went looking for trouble, and I found plenty,” he whispered, lowering his head.

“That’s no way to talk, Joe.  You didn’t go there with the intention of killing the boy…did you?” Adam asked.

Joe jerked his head up and stared in shock at his brother.  “Do you really have to ask that?” he said angrily.

“No…I’m sorry Joe, I just had to know,” Adam said as he stood to his feet.  He moved across the length of the cell and stopped, standing before his brother.

“Try not to worry Joe…we won’t let anything happen to you,” Adam said in low whisper. 

He saw his brother swallow hard and when he placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder he could feel the slight tremors that shook the slender body.  Adam knew that regardless of their promises, his kid brother was frightened.

Joe swallowed again and nodded his head.  “Alright Adam…” he said hesitantly.

**********

Alone in his jail cell and with no to talk to, Joe lay on the cot, looking up at the ceiling.  He knew he should try to get some sleep, but the nagging thought of his intent kept him from getting the rest he needed.  Time and time again he went over everything that had happened up until the moment that he struck the Walker boy.  Joe knew that in town he had had every right to fight back when Billy had first started taking punches at him, but Joe had not let himself be suckered into the fight, for regardless of how large Billy had been, Billy Walker was still just a boy. 

Joe closed his eyes, seeing Adam’s face the night that his older brother had been beaten and had somehow managed to find his way home.  Joe saw again the gash over Adam’s right eye, the busted lip and the swollen cheeks where Billy had struck Adam’s face repeatedly with the butt of his pistol.  Anger seethed deep within Joe as if he was seeing the battered body of his older brother again, for the first time.  He felt himself tremble and opened his eyes, rising upright.  Swinging his legs off the side of the cot, Joe stood and walked to the window, gazing out through the bars.  Had he intended to kill the boy?  Had is heart turned so cold and his anger so deep that he had disregarded his father’s warning not to do anything rash?  Had he gone looking for Billy that night, with the intent of evening the score? 

Joe lowered his head, resting his forehead on his arm and sighed deeply.  “Dear God…help me to know,” he whispered softly.

Joe returned to his cot and sat down. He rubbed gently at the soreness in his broken hand, recalling the sharp pain he had felt as Jessie Walker slammed the stick of firewood down across his outstretched hand, knocking his pistol free of his fingers.  It had hurt like blazes and the sudden action of the senior Walker had taken him completely by surprise.  And before he could gather his thoughts, Joe had found himself knocked to the ground by the solid punch that Billy had delivered to his jaw.  Joe tried to reason that he had done the natural thing, and that was to defend himself.  He recalled getting to his feet and taking a swing at the other young man.  Joe saw, in his mind, Billy’s body teeter back and forth and then falling heavily to the ground.  The sound of Billy’s head hitting the hard wooden step echoed in Joe’s mind. 

He scrunched up his face, shutting his eyes to the imaginary sound.  When he opened his eyes, Joe brushed his right hand across the front of his face to wipe dry the moisture that had unexpectedly collected there.  Restless still, he rose and returned to the barred window and gazed up at the stars wishing he knew positively what had been in his heart that fateful night.

‘I would have died for you Adam, rather than to see you hurt and I would kill to protect you if I had too,’ Joe surmised as he gazed out into the darkened street.

Joe took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  ‘But did I have too…or did I want to?’

***********

The next morning, the sound of Ben’s deep voice out in the office, woke Joe from a fretful sleep.  He yawned and as the door separating the office opened, Joe stretched and pushed his body into a sitting position.

“Morning son,” greeted Ben as he entered the cell that Roy unlocked and relocked as soon as Ben had stepped inside.

Ben immediately noted the worn look on his son’s face and moved to the cot where he sat down next to Joe.

“What’s wrong, son?” Ben questioned.

Joe made an attempt to sound light hearted, but his father, knowing him so well, realized what Joe was trying to do.

“I guess I didn’t sleep too well…”

“Bad dreams?” Ben asked, watching the harried expressions on his son’s face.

“I wish they had been dreams…” Joe said with a smirk as he turned to look into Ben’s eyes.  “I…I…” Joe gulped.

“You what, Joseph?  What’s bothering you?”

Joe stood to his feet, moving to the window where he had spent most of the night staring out into the street and up into heaven.

“I wish I knew…what my intent was…that night,” Joe explained in a small voice.

He glanced at his father who was watching his every move. 

“I don’t know, Pa…if I went over to Billy’s with the intent of just talking to him or…or…to even the score…” stammered Joe.

Ben listened while Joe tried to explain his fears, his own fear settling in about the walls of his heart.  He rose and went to Joe’s side, placing a firm hand on the young man’s shoulder.  The worried father leaned close, practically putting his lips to Joe’s ears as he proclaimed his belief in his son.

“I know that sometimes, you over react to situations, and you tend to be too spontaneous, but never…never will I believe that you would intentionally set out to kill someone…for any reason.  I know you too well, Joseph…it is not your nature, nor is murder in your heart.  You are not a cold blooded killer…”

When Joe raised his head and looked at his father, Ben could see the tears that glistened in the troubled eyes that gazed back at him.  His heart melted and he turned Joe completely around so that they stood eyeball to eyeball.  Ben placed his other hand on Joe’s shoulder and pressed his fingers tightly into Joe’s flesh.

“But I…killed him,” Joe mumbled, his chin quivering as he spoke.

“In self-defense,” Ben said in a deep voice.  “You were protecting yourself…against two men twice your size.  And it was an accident…Billy fell and hit his head on the step.  Isn’t that what you said happened?”

Joe nodded his head.

“Then stop blaming yourself son…it was an accident, an unfortunate accident and…”

“What if the jury doesn’t think so?  What if they convict me of…murder?” stammered Joe.

Ben let out a long breath of air, surprised that he’d been holding it in. 

“I don’t believe that will happen, son.  If you tell your story, exactly as it happened…I don’t see how a jury could find you anything but innocent.  You went to Billy Walker’s place to speak with Billy…nothing more.  Jessie Walker attacked you first…you have the broken hand to prove it…and then his son turned on you…all you did was protect yourself from another beating.  Joe…you have to have faith in the system…you have to believe that…”

“I know all of that, Pa…it’s just…”

“Just what, Joe?”

“It’s just that if asked what was my intent…I’m not sure what I’ll say…cause I don’t really know.”  Joe’s voice faltered and Ben heard a sob catch deep in Joe’s throat.

He pulled his son into an embrace.  Joe might think he could kill a man in cold blood, but his father knew better.

“Your intent that night was to talk…nothing more.  I’m sorry son; I should have stepped in long before it got so far out of hand.  Part of this is my fault…we all share the blame, me, you, Billy, his father and even Adam to some extent.  All that happened before hand, led the way to a man accidentally being killed…that’s how the jury will see it, Joe,” Ben assured his son.

Joe drew back from his father, feeling somewhat more at ease.  “I hope so, Pa…I hope so.

*********

The next morning, the trial began.  Joe was cuffed and made to walk across the street to the courthouse.  The street was lined with curiosity seekers and during the humiliating walk between the rows that the onlookers had fashioned for him Joe could hear soft whispers and muted laughter.  The curt remarks about his innocence did nothing to help steady the rising fear he felt in the pit of his stomach.

Ben walked to his son’s left, carefully shielding Joe’s body from the throng of people who mumbled in low voices.  The sheriff stayed to his prisoner’s right with a firm hold on Joe’s upper arm, while Hoss pushed through the crowd toward the entrance of the courthouse.  Adam brought up the rear, keeping a close eye on anyone who might look as if they’d like to take advantage of the fact that Joe Cartwright was handcuffed and unable to protect himself should the need arise.

Once inside, Joe was led to the front of the room where Roy pulled out a chair and ordered him to sit.  The cuffs were removed with a deep sigh of relief from Joe.  Ben, Adam and Hoss picked the seats directly behind their family member and sat down.  As time for the trial drew near, the courtroom began to fill.  Within minutes the room was filled to capacity and several persons who could not find a seat were forced to stand along the walls.

Joe’s lawyer, Bryon Miller, sat next to Joe and whispered words of encouragement to his client.  Joe would nod his head occasionally in compliance to what his attorney was saying to him.

A hush fell over the courtroom as the crowd suddenly stopped chattering.  Joe, who had been listening to what his father had been telling him, fell silent as well.  He glanced up, looking into the eyes of Jessie Walker who had stopped next to Joe’s seat.  In his eyes, Joe could see a look of pure hate, for the father of the dead boy held nothing back in allowing the youngest Cartwright to see exactly how he felt about matters.

“Ya gonna hang kid…” whispered Jessie in a low voice.  He laughed lightly at the look of uncertainty that instantly spread across Joe’s face.

Joe sensed more than saw, his father rise from his seat and stand at his back.  Another movement told him that Hoss as well as Adam had also risen to their feet and were all standing protectively over him.

“Sit down,” ordered Roy who had risen to his feet as well and directed his attention to Jessie.

Jessie made a smirk and looked once again at Joe before turning and moving to a seat across from the accused.  Jessie’s lawyer took a hold of Walker’s arm and rather abruptly pushed him down into the chair all the while giving his client a determined look.

A door to the side of the room opened and twelve men walked into the courtroom and took their places in the jury box.  Each wore a solemn expression on their faces and none turned to look at the alleged.  Joe felt his heart leap into his throat as he watched the men march in.  Most them he knew, some were even close friends of his father’s and for a fraction of a second he felt sorry for them.  For they had been chosen to adhere to a duty that Joe felt sure his father’s friends would have preferred not to have done.  Nonetheless, there they sat struggling with whatever emotions they might be facing for having to make a judgment on one of their own.

The judge, a man who looked the part and one Joe had learned was nicknamed, ‘the hanging judge’, came in and sat down behind the high desk at the front of the room.  When he picked up his gavel and banged it down, Joe jumped, startled by the loud noise.

“Court is now in session.”

The prosecution made the opening statement, promising the court to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Joe Cartwright was guilty of premeditated murder.  They hoped to prove to the court that Joe Cartwright’s intent that night was pure revenge for what he believed to be the beating of his older brother, Adam Cartwright and that Joe’s intent that night was to kill, in cold blood, the seventeen year old son of Jessie Walker, William Walker, known to his friends as Billy.

The defense on the other hand, promised to prove to the court that the killing of Billy Walker was pure accidental, caused by the actions of both, Jessie Walker and his deceased son, Billy.  Joe’s attorney hoped to prove that Joe Cartwright was the person attacked, by Jessie Walker, and then again by Billy Walker and that Joe was only acting in self-defense, after first being struck by Billy, then returning the blow, the result of which caused the young Walker boy to fall backwards, hitting his head, thus consequently ending in the boy’s death.

Two men -- one in particular, Mr. Cass, being the owner of the mercantile store -- testified to the first fight that took place just outside of his workplace.  He explained to the court that Joe had been loading supplies and that Billy appeared out of nowhere and began peppering Joe with solid punches that left the youngest Cartwright dazed and bleeding.  Mr. Cass went on to tell the court that after Joe refused to fight the Walker youth, and refused the care of a doctor, he had helped Joe into his wagon and watched as Joe left for home.

Several men who had been patrons in the Silver Dollar Saloon the night that Joe encountered Billy Walker for the second time, all swore under oath that it had been Billy, who had started the second fight between Joe and himself.  Each told their side of the story, all swearing that Joe never took a swing at the boy, even after Joe’s face had been battered by the larger, more aggressive young man.

Joe seemed to relax a bit more after the testimonies of each man, glancing occasionally at the men in the jury box and hoping that they were following the chain of events that led to the final confrontation.

Recess was called about noon and everyone filed out of the courthouse in search of a meal.  Joe was led back to the jail and locked behind the iron bars.  Ben had ordered a meal from the diner and along with Adam and Hoss, Joe’s family kept him company while he ate.

“Everything’s going well, don’t you think Adam?” Ben asked.

“Bryon Miller seems to think it is…so far he’s believing that he’s able to show that Billy was the aggressor and not Joe,” confirmed Adam, leaning back against the wall as he sat on the cot, watching his younger brother picking at his food.

Everythin’s gonna be alright, ya just wait and see,” grinned Hoss, who was also watching Joe, stabbing at the food on his plate.

Joe glanced up from his plate to look at Hoss.  His expression was somber as he spoke.

“Sure it is,” he muttered and returned to pushing his food around.

Ben, who had been leaning against the bars, had seen enough of Joe fiddling with his food.

“Joe, you need to eat something, son,” he said at last.

Joe glanced up, his lips in a firm straight line as he shook his head and th