Adam Cartwright was sitting beside his campfire in the forest high above the north pastures, looking west into the setting sun. The sky was red and purple and blue, the magenta clouds outlined with the brightest gold, all reflected in the snow remaining on the tops of the mountains. He thought to himself that he had seldom seen a more perfect sight, and he relaxed his powerful, slim, black clad body against the tree behind him as he let out a long sigh. His mind went back to the conversation that he had had with his father that morning, which had sent him up here.
“Well someone’s got to go and hunt for that mountain lion, and I have elected you,” said Ben Cartwright with finality, hands on hips, facing his son.
“But I don’t want to go,” replied Adam heatedly, also with his hands on his hips, in unconscious imitation of his father. “You still need me here. I don’t care how fit you say you are, you have been very ill, and I think it’s too soon for you to take on the ranch again without me here to help you.” Adam was concerned for his father, who had been ill for several weeks and was only just recovering. His normally robust father was looking decidedly frail, his face had only a little more colour than his grey hair, and there were dark circles beneath his ebony eyes.
When Ben was ill, or away, it was Adam who would take on the responsibilities of the ranch in his father’s place. He was Ben’s eldest son, and at thirty four he was more experienced at running the ranch than his two younger brothers, Hoss and Joe, respectively six and twelve years his junior. But Ben’s illness had struck at a particularly bad time, coming as it did just before the start of round up, and when they were short handed on the ranch as the result of rumours about another big silver strike on the Comstock lode, which had taken many of the men in search of their fortunes, including their foreman.
And then to make matters worse, Hoss broke his leg. Joe did his best to help, but Adam had to send him to San Francisco to deal with some timber buyers. Though this would be the first time that Joe had dealt with negotiating contracts on his own, Adam had no choice but to let him go. Joe had done well, and had returned with a good deal that would make a handsome profit for the family. Adam was proud of his young brother, and for once had told him so. Joe had been gone for nearly three weeks and had only just returned. Adam was working outdoors all the hours of daylight and at night he would do the books and work on new contracts.
Ben could tell that Adam was exhausted, to the extent that his father was becoming concerned that he might start to make some rash decisions. Ben saw the hunt for the mountain lion as a chance for Adam to get away and rest, while still feeling that he was doing something useful. Adam would feel guilty if he just stopped work for a while, so Ben was going to send him away for a few days. Adam loved the mountains with their towering tops and beautiful wooded valleys, they were quiet, undemanding, and expected nothing of you except that you treat them with respect.
“I’m perfectly capable of managing. The round up is finished and we do not start the logging for another week yet. Joe can help me if I need it, and Hoss is on the mend. So you go and find that mountain lion and don’t come back until you do,” Ben said forcefully.
Adam knew perfectly well what his father was up to, and he appreciated the thought behind it, but was still worried that he might not be able to manage.
“Pa, do I…?”
“Adam, if you don’t go soon you will get me so upset that I will make myself ill again. Is that what you want?” said Ben. He had made his decision and was not prepared to back down, Adam needed to get away from the responsibilities of the ranch, and Ben was going to make certain that he did.
“All right, all right.” Adam raised his hands in surrender, he had decided that he might as well give in. “I’ll go, but only as long as you promise me that you will take it easy. Let Joe run around for you, the exercise will do him good.”
Adam stirred from his remembering and sat up to put another log on the fire. His father had been right, of course, he was mentally and physically completely drained, and each day that passed, he had found it increasingly difficult to make even simple decisions. It seemed weeks since he had had a good night’s sleep. He would go to bed exhausted and wake after being asleep for only a short time, thinking about the day just gone, planning for the day to come, and all the time he was desperately worried about his father, who would normally have shaken off quickly any illness. But he supposed it was a sign of advancing years that this time it had taken Ben so long to recover. Now Adam was forgetting all that, putting it behind him.
The nights in the mountains could be cold, and he moved closer to the fire for warmth. He was reaching out for his coat when he thought he heard a movement behind him, and being aware of the reason he was in the mountains, reached past his coat for his gun, which he had put to one side. He stood up slowly, and cautiously went to the edge of his campsite but saw nothing. As he turned to go back to the fire, he caught sight of a movement out of the corner of his eye. Before he could be sure that he had seen anything, he felt a crushing blow on the back of his head, and lost consciousness before he hit the ground.
Adam came round slowly. His eyelids felt heavy and he did not bother to try to open them, but explored his body with his mind. He was aware of an all-encompassing pain, which settled down to a throbbing in his head and an excruciating pain in his back. He tried to collect his thoughts, but nothing made sense. The last thing he remembered was sitting by his campfire in the mountains, now it seemed that he was lying on a bed. The memory of the campfire was expanded, and he remembered it was evening and he was settling down for the night, now he could see brightness through his eyelids, it must be daylight. What had happened in between?
Adam tried to move to ease the pain in his back but that just made it worse, and a groan escaped his lips. He felt a touch on his arm.
“Easy, son, you’re safe,” said a voice, which Adam instantly recognised as his father’s.
Adam forced his eyes open until he was looking through his lashes, and tried to turn his head to look at Ben, but a wave of nausea overtook him. He closed his eyes again and tried desperately to control it. He really did not want to be sick at that moment, it simply involved too much movement, but the feeling was too strong and he turned and leant over the side of the bed and vomited. The movement caused a searing pain to shoot through him, starting in his head, meeting the agony in his back, and continuing to his feet. He screamed and retched in turn. His father held him, trying to comfort him, but the torture continued until Adam, in his suffering, wished he were dead. Finally, he lapsed into unconsciousness, and Ben eased him back onto the bed, trying to make him comfortable.
Ben sat with Adam for several hours, occasionally wiping away the sheen of sweat that formed on his son’s forehead. He remembered the previous afternoon when he had heard a horse come into the yard. He waited for someone to approach the house, but when no one had appeared after a few minutes, he went to see why. As he opened the door, he saw Adam lying motionless on the ground beside Sport, his horse. He called desperately to Hoss and Joe who came at a run and helped get Adam into the house. As they lifted Adam from the ground, Ben stared at the bloodstained dirt where his son had been lying, and a cold hand of fear gripped his heart. From then on life had seemed like a nightmare become reality. Finding Adam like that, with a bullet in his back and blood streaming from a cut on the back of his head where he had hit the ground, not knowing how he had got hurt, and not knowing how to help his eldest son.
Eventually Adam moaned softly, the pain hitting him as he awoke. Again the nausea came, but the memory of what had happened the last time he was conscious made him determined that he did not want to go through it again, and he fought to control the feeling. Slowly the sickness passed and he opened his eyes cautiously. He found it difficult to focus on anything, so he stared at the wall opposite, until his eyes obeyed his brain and he could make out details, which told him he was lying in his own bed at home! He turned his head, and screwed his eyes up with the pain that shot through his skull, the sickness threatening to return. He opened his eyes just enough to be able to see the face of his father, who was sitting on a chair at the side of the bed.
“Pa, how did I get here? What happened?” he asked slowly, his voice not above a whisper. His head hurt so much that he was afraid to speak too loudly in case it exploded. He put his left hand to his forehead and pressed his temples between fingers and thumb. It didn’t help, so he lowered his hand to cover his eyes.
“We were hoping that you might be able to tell us that,” said Ben keeping his voice low in deference to the headache that he suspected his son was suffering.
“I…I don’t remember.” Adam let his hand drop onto his chest and looked at his father. There was concern written in every line of Ben’s face, emphasising the after-effects of his recent illness.
“It’s all right, son. Rest now, we’ll talk later.”
Adam closed his eyes again, and the pain took him into blessed darkness.
Ben looked to the other side of the bed where Doctor Paul Martin was standing. He raised his eyebrows in question.
“I don’t know, Ben, the bullet is very close to his spine. I don’t want to try to remove it until he is stronger and made up some of the blood loss, perhaps tomorrow. In the meantime, he must not move, it will only make things worse if he does. But one thing you must be aware of, the operation to remove the bullet may leave him without the use of his legs.”
Ben stood, stunned. His own legs felt weak, he had believed that once the bullet was out Adam would be able to get well again, now the doctor was telling him that Adam might be crippled. He staggered from the room.
Ben went downstairs to the large living room, where Hoss and Joe were waiting for news.
“Well, how is he?” asked Joe, his eyes full of concern beneath his mop of curly hair.
“Is he gonna be OK?” enquired Hoss anxiously.
Ben held up his hands defending himself from his son’s questions. “It’s too soon to tell.” Ben hesitated, not sure whether to tell them the rest of what the doctor had said, then decided that they deserved the truth. “Paul says that he will take the bullet out tomorrow.” Joe and Hoss looked at each other and smiled thinly, but something in Ben’s attitude brought their attention back to him.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” asked Joe, fearful of what their father was going to add.
“Yes.” Ben hesitated, not wanting to repeat what Paul had said to him, as though not saying it would stop it happening. “Paul also said that the operation to remove the bullet may leave Adam crippled.” Ben turned away, tears starting in his eyes as he said the word. He turned back as he felt a touch on his arm. Hoss was standing close to him, Joe at his shoulder.
“Don’t fret yourself Pa. The first thing is to get Adam well again, and then we’ll deal with whatever lies ahead together. If Adam cain’t walk then we’ll have to help him get over that and face the future. You know how strong he is inside. I think that you’ll find he’ll be able to cope,” said Hoss. Ben’s middle son was a big, powerful man, but his size hid a soft heart and it pained him to see his father so upset.
“Yes Pa, whatever happens we’ll be there for him,” said Joe, taking Ben’s arm and leading him to his chair beside the fireplace. He went to a small table and poured his father a glass of brandy, which Ben took from him and drank without noticing.
Joe turned to Hoss. “If I find who did this to Adam I’m goin’ to kill them,” stated Joe quietly, but with a chilling certainty.
“Now Joe settle down. The sheriff knows about the shooting and will be looking for the varmint that did it. You know that if you try to go after ‘em Pa’ll be upset, and I think he’s got about as much on his plate as he can handle right now.” Hoss knew his younger brother was fiercely protective of his family and felt any injury to one of them as though it had been done to him. His mercurial temper would send him seeking revenge, and sometimes it was only the wise council of his brothers that would stop him.
“All right,” Joe said taking a deep breath to calm himself. “But Roy had better come up with something soon”
Doc Martin, coming down the stairs, saw the three of them sitting in silence and knew that Ben had told Hoss and Joe the news.
“Boys, I need you to be with Adam when he wakes up again. He must not move until I get the bullet out, and it may take two of you to keep him quiet. I don’t want to have to sedate him because he may have a skull fracture.”
Hoss and Joe looked up at the doctor and nodded. Joe walked past his father and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, then went up the stairs with Hoss following slowly behind him, a limp the visible reminder of his still healing leg.
The doctor poured another drink for Ben and one for himself, and they sat in silence, each with their own thoughts. While Ben was concerned for Adam, Paul was thinking about the operation he would have to perform the following day, and the repercussions of failure. He was also worried about Ben. He was still recovering from his recent illness and this shock could set him back. They had been sitting there silently for some time when there was a knock at the door. Neither of them moved and the knock came again. Paul rose and answered it, to find Sheriff Roy Coffee standing there.
“Come in, Roy. I suppose you have come about Adam?”
“Um…yes,” said Roy with a hesitation that Paul could not understand. “I’d like a word with Ben.”
He crossed the room to where Ben was sitting. The elderly sheriff started to speak but quickly realised that he wasn’t being heard, so put a hand on Ben’s shoulder to get his attention.
“Ben…Ben.” Slowly Ben lifted his head and looked at the sheriff. He shook himself and stood.
“Roy, what are you doing here?” he asked, getting to his feet, then answered his own question, “Of course, you want to see Adam, about who shot him.”
“Well not exactly. I do want to see Adam, but I think I know who shot him.”
“You do? That’s good. Adam can’t remember anything at the moment.” Ben thought that at least Roy had brought some better news.
“Well, no, it’s not exactly good. Ben sit down while I tell you what happened.” Ben sat and waited
“Yesterday morning the Reno stage was robbed and the guard was killed. They took seventy thousand dollars, which was being brought to the bank in Virginia City.” Ben was about to interrupt but Roy held up his hand, he wanted to get this over with. “Let me finish. There were five passengers on the stage. Mr and Mrs Kennedy, you know, from the general store, Mr Bailey the bank manager, Sally Henderson from the Bucket of Blood, and a man called Hunt who is a Wells Fargo investigator. The Kennedys, Bailey and Sally all identified the man who shot the guard.”
“They all knew him? Was it someone from round here?” asked Ben interested, forgetting for a moment his worry about Adam. Then Roy continued, and as he did so, Ben’s world slowly disintegrated.
“Yes it was. They said the man made no attempt to hide his identity, no mask or anything.” Roy walked away and then turned back to his friend. He hesitated and was unable to look Ben in the eye. “It was…they said it was Adam.” Roy paused, the sentence hanging in the air between them.
Ben just stared at him unable to take in what he was hearing. He stood slowly, then he went over to Roy and grasped his shoulders forcing the sheriff to look at him.
“But that’s ridiculous, there must be some mistake. Adam was up in the mountains hunting. He was nowhere near the stage road.”
“Perhaps that was where he was meant to be, but the witnesses are certain it was him. The Kennedys even recognised Sport,” said Roy, referring to Adam’s horse. He shook his head sadly, knowing what the news must be doing to his friend.
Ben started to speak again, but then found that there was nothing to say. He was aware that the Kennedys had known Adam for close on twenty years, and while George Bailey had not known him for more than two years, he was not a man given to flights of fancy. How well Sally knew him was anybody’s guess!
“After the two men took the strong box, they rode off. As they did so, the driver took a shot at them. He told me he thought that he had hit one of them. He said that he shot the taller, dark haired one in the back. Hunt took off after them on his horse, which he had hitched to the back of the stage, but he couldn’t find any trace of them. I’ve been out with a posse yesterday afternoon and this morning looking for signs of them. The tracks lead here, onto the Ponderosa, but we kept losing them, they got over ridden too many times. I left it till now to come to you, I was trying to make sure one way or the other.”
Roy stopped speaking; there was really nothing else to say at that moment. He waited for a reaction from Ben but none was forthcoming. Ben returned to his chair unsteadily, unable to take in all that the sheriff was telling him. Roy turned to Doc Martin, who went over to Ben and knelt in front of him.
“Ben, Ben listen to me. You and I, and Roy, we all know that Adam wouldn’t do anything like that. It can’t be true.”
Ben looked at Paul, “But they have four eye witnesses. How can you argue against that? And Adam…Adam’s up there with a bullet in his back. And he can’t tell us how it happened.”
Ben remembered that when he had suggested that Adam get away, one of the reasons for it was that he felt Adam’s judgement was slipping. Was it possible that he had underestimated the extent of his son’s exhaustion, and the effect it was having on his thinking?
Paul stood and took the sheriff to one side, out of Ben’s hearing. “I have just told Ben that I will operate on Adam tomorrow to remove the bullet. I had to tell him that there are no guarantees, that Adam may lose the use of his legs, the bullet is very close to his spine.”
“Oh no! And then I come in here with this. You going to operate tomorrow?” Paul nodded. “Then I’ll come back day after, Adam’s not going anywhere in the meantime. I’d better go, look after both them won’t you.”
Paul showed Roy out and went back to Ben; on the way he poured them both another drink. Paul was worried about the older man. Ben was still recovering from his own illness, and the shock of Roy’s revelation could put him back in bed.
“Here Ben, I think you could do with this, I know I could.” Paul sat on the settee near Ben and waited. After a few minutes, Ben lifted his head and looked at his friend, the drink in his hand untouched and forgotten.
“Paul, is it possible…?” Ben paused, hesitating to share his thoughts. He was thinking of Adam’s best friend, Ross Marquette, and how he had seemed to go from sanity to madness in such a short space of time, because no one had noticed the symptoms. A gentle man normally, but his madness had driven him to kill his wife. He had also tried to kill Adam, who had in the end been forced to shoot his friend, killing him. It had taken Adam a long time to recover from shooting someone who had meant so much to him.
Ben started again. “I sent Adam away because I thought that he needed to rest, he was mentally and physically exhausted. Is it possible that in that state he could see robbing the stage as a viable course of action for some reason? Surely not. But then how did he get shot, is it just too much of a coincidence? Even if I could stretch my imagination far enough to accept that Adam would rob the stage, I can’t by any means think that he would shoot the guard in cold blood, but then there are witnesses. They can’t all be wrong.” Ben stopped and shook his head; there were too many questions and no answers.
It was a long time later that Joe appeared at the top of the stairs, “Pa, Adam’s awake.” Ben did not react, but Paul said that he would be up directly.
It was dark outside when Adam woke, and the lamps which lit the room gave off a soft light that did not hurt his eyes as the sunlight earlier had. He looked around and saw both his brothers were in the room.
“Both of you keeping an eye on me?” he asked softly, his strained voice reflecting his pain.
“Hey Joe, he’s woken up at last.” Hoss called to Joe, who was standing, staring out of the window.
“Could you be a little quieter, please?” begged Adam, squeezing his eyes shut. Every sound seemed to send shafts of pain through his head, and he was barely managing to stay conscious. Joe left the room to get his father. Hoss sat on the chair beside the bed.
“How is it?” he asked softly
“I’ve had better days,” said Adam slowly, as he opened his eyes and tried to move to ease the pain, without success.
Hoss put his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “The doc said that you mustn’t move at all until he’s taken the bullet out. That’s why Joe and I are both here to keep an eye on you. Makes a change for us to be able to tell you what to do.” Hoss smiled at his brother.
“What bullet?” Adam asked confused, he couldn’t remember getting shot.
“The one in you back, ‘course,” explained Hoss.
Adam thought about this for a minute, trying to remember, but soon gave up. Concentrating just made his head hurt more.
“Can Paul take it out?” Adam asked despondently.
“He said he would do it tomorrow, when you’re stronger.”
Adam closed his eyes and tried to take a long steadying breath, but the movement only served to increase the pain in his back. He had thought that all he had to do was lie there and get better, but now it seemed that he was going to have to face an operation first. Well so be it, he would cope with things as they happened. At that moment Ben and the doctor appeared.
“Adam,” Paul said, “can you hear me, do you understand what I am saying?”
“Yes.” Adam was still distracted by the thought of an operation.
“The bullet is still in there. I can’t remove it until you are stronger, you have lost too much blood, and I think you may have a fractured skull, which is why your head hurts so much. Tomorrow we’ll see how you are and I’ll take it out as soon as I can. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll stay here tonight,” Paul looked towards Ben who just nodded his agreement, “so I’ll be here with you if you need me.”
“Thanks,” Adam said on a whisper. Every word made his head hurt, and was reflected in the pain in his back.
Ben came to stand beside the bed. He looked down at his son. He looks so pale and weak, Ben thought. He found himself trying to imagine Adam beside a stagecoach, shooting the guard and threatening the passengers. While his instinct rejected the image, his logic saw Adam lying there, with a bullet in his back. Adam became aware of his father standing there not saying anything.
“Pa…what’s the matter?” he asked softly, getting worried about what Ben was thinking but not saying.
“Nothing son, nothing. I was just thinking that you look a bit pale, but time will take care of that. Can you tell me what is the last thing you remember?
Adam looked at the ceiling, his brow furrowing as he tried to concentrate. He didn’t really want to talk, but his father was obviously worried. “I think…I remember leaving here yesterday, going into the mountains…making camp, eating supper…and sitting by the fire. Then…then I was here.”
“You left here the day before yesterday,” said Ben sadly. “Do you remember yesterday at all? Perhaps you remember waking up in camp, or setting out after that mountain lion. Did you go hunting?” Ben wanted to know. He desperately wanted Adam to remember what he did yesterday, and hoped to jog his memory with questions.
Adam started to shake his head, but even the thought of movement seemed to increase the pain he was feeling so he just whispered “No.”
Ben was disappointed that Adam could apparently remember nothing between then and now, but he patted his son’s arm comfortingly. “Don’t worry, it will come back to you.”
The strain of concentrating was obvious in Adam’s eyes. He seemed to be slipping into unconsciousness again so Ben did not press him, although he desperately wanted to make Adam remember what he had been doing that morning, to prove that he could not have robbed the stage. Ben knew that he couldn’t say anything about the hold up until after Paul had operated, and Adam was on the mend. If he had no memory of what he had been doing the previous day, Adam would not be able to help, and at the moment Ben was only concerned that Adam should live, nothing else mattered.
“Just try to get some sleep,” he said, and Adam closed his eyes and returned to the painless peace of oblivion.
As he sat watching his son sleep, Ben had a very different thought. If Adam died, he would be spared the accusations made by the sheriff, and the repercussions, as would they all. Adam would not have to face a trial, nor the enmity of the town. His family would not have to watch him hang. Ben stood and started to pace back and forth, trying to clear such thoughts from his mind; he wanted Adam to live, no matter what he may have done.
The following afternoon Paul decided that Adam was strong enough to withstand an operation. It was a difficult decision but he did not want to delay any longer. Leaving the bullet untouched for another day might cause more damage, but he was worried that if Adam was to stay unconscious too long after the operation, he might never wake up again. Paul decided that he would give Adam the minimum amount of medication to keep him asleep during the operation and try to rouse him as soon as possible afterwards. Joe volunteered to help him and Paul gratefully accepted.
After more than two hours, Paul came down the stairs, seeing Ben and Hoss waiting silently for him. He sat on the sofa, facing Ben, and waited until the other man looked up, and Paul knew he had his attention.
“Ben I’ve finished, and Joe is sitting with Adam.” Ben was about to interrupt but Paul stopped him, knowing what he was going to say. “It’s too soon to tell anything. I got the bullet out and he is resting as comfortably as may be expected. He did stir briefly, so I’m not too worried about his head. Barring any complications, and it is far too early to rule out something like infection, he will recover from the shooting. I won’t know any more for a few days, let’s take it slowly. Bear in mind that even if Adam can’t move his legs at first it could just be a reaction to the operation, and not permanent. So we will just have to wait and see. The best you can do now is take care of Adam and help him to recover. I must go in to town for a few hours, but I will be back as soon as I can.”
Paul stopped speaking, waiting for Ben to react. “Thank you, Paul. I know that you have done the best you can and I am grateful, whatever the outcome. I think I’ll go and sit with him far a while.”
“All right Ben, but don’t look for any reaction from him. Adam will be unconscious for quite a while, I expect. But if he shows any sign of stirring, I want you to encourage him wake up. I would like to see him conscious again, if only for a short time.”
Ben rose and went slowly upstairs, the strain of the last forty-eight hours beginning to show in his weary gait. Too many thoughts had been going through his mind. Was Adam crippled? Did he rob the stage and kill the guard? Was Adam going insane? Had he lost forever the son he knew? If the answer to any of these questions was ‘yes’, Ben knew that the heart would be ripped out of his family. Yesterday Ben had prayed that Adam would not lose the use of his legs. Now that prayer seemed irrelevant, Adam had been seen killing a man, and beside that nothing else mattered.
Ben went into Adam’s room and sent Joe downstairs, then he sat on the chair beside the bed, looking down at his son.
“Are you still the boy I raised, or have you become something altogether different?” he asked the man lying motionless before him. Ben put his head in his hands and wept, for his son, for his family, and for himself.
After several hours sitting with Adam, the sleeplessness of the previous night began to catch up with Ben. He felt his head sink onto his chest and his eyes close. He thought that he would just stay like that for a few minutes, but it was nearly an hour later that he was startled awake by Adam’s voice. He instantly leant towards his son.
“Pa…could I have…some water?” asked Adam. He had woken just minutes before to find his father asleep at his side. Adam didn’t want to wake him, but his mouth was dry and he could not swallow.
“Of course” said Ben and poured some from the jug on the bedside table. He lifted Adam’s head gently so he could drink, and then lowered it again onto the pillow.
“How is it, son?
“Pa, I don’t know,” Adam replied quietly, and Ben could see from his distracted look that he was mentally exploring his body. “My head hurts but I can’t feel anything else. No pain in my back at all. Did Paul get the bullet out?”
“Yes he did.” Ben paused not wanting to ask the next question, dreading the answer. “Can you move your legs?”
A look of deep concentration came over Adam’s face, and after a few seconds he took a deep breath.
“No.”
They looked at each other in silence, both thinking of the consequences of that single word. Into the silence came Joe and Hoss.
“How is it brother?” asked Joe immediately. Hoss could sense the tension in the room and did not have to ask what had happened.
Adam looked at his brother, young, fit and…whole, and found that he could not answer.
The following day Joe was sitting with Adam trying to get him to eat something, when Ben came into the room.
“Adam when you woke up and found me looking at you, you asked if there was something wrong, and I told you there was not, do you remember?”
Adam nodded, wondering what was coming. The movement did not cause the pain he had felt before. The doctor had told him there was no fracture to his skull, and his headache was slowly fading.
“Well I was not being exactly honest with you. Joe, go and get Hoss will you. I think you had all better hear this.”
Adam was now distinctly worried. “Pa does it have anything to do with my getting shot?” he ventured.
“Yes.” was all that Ben said.
They waited in silence for Joe and Hoss to come back and then Ben told them what Roy Coffee had said about the stage hold up. There was not a sound in the room as they digested the story, then Joe and Hoss tried to speak at the same time.
“But Adam wouldn’t…”
“There must be some mistake…”
Adam just lay motionless, too stunned to speak. He tried desperately to remember what he had been doing since making camp, but there was nothing. No memory at all between sitting by his fire and waking up in his room. But he had a nagging thought at the back of his mind that he needed to tell his father something, he had a feeling that what he was trying to remember was important. Maybe because of the hold up? But it was no use; whatever he wanted to tell his father would have to wait.
He could not believe what his father had said, but was it possible that he had indeed robbed the stage, and then just wiped it from his memory? He had heard of such things happening, the brain rejecting memories that were too painful. But it just did not feel right. No, he was sure that he would have remembered, but his father had said that there were witnesses who had seen him do it. Nothing made sense.
“Pa,” said Adam, and his father and brothers turned to him, and he continued slowly, “Pa, I don’t remember what I did, but I’m sure that I would not rob the stage, and absolutely convinced that no matter how skewed my thinking may have been, as you have suggested, through overwork, that I would shoot someone in cold blood. But if I did do those things… then I deserve to be hanged.”
This last sentence brought protests from his brothers, who had not thought that far ahead, but Adam had. It was the only outcome possible under the law.
“Son, I don’t want to believe you did it, but we have to be able to prove it. The sheriff has four eyewitnesses and we have to get absolute proof of your innocence, and that’s going to be difficult if you can’t remember what you were doing that morning,” said Ben.
“Then we will just have to get the proof some other way,” stated Joe as though it was going to be easy to find.
“And just how do you suppose we do that?” asked Hoss.
“I don’t know,” admitted Joe, “But if Adam didn’t do it then someone else did. And someone else shot him,” he stated reasonably.
“Yeah,” said Hoss, “and they are long gone. While we’ve been waiting for Adam to get stronger they’ve got clean away.”
“Now just a minute. The sheriff has had a posse out looking for the other man,” Ben told them.
“Well we can’t just sit here and do nothing!” exclaimed Joe pacing up and down the bedroom floor.
Hoss was standing quietly by the bed. Then he looked eagerly at his father. “We could go to Adam’s campsite and look round, see if we cain’t find some tracks or somethin’,” he suggested.
“That’s a good idea, you better leave it till the morning though,” said Ben, and Joe and Hoss decided they would to get to bed early that night so they could be gone by day break.
At the door, Joe turned to Adam. “Don’t worry, big brother, we’ll find something,” he said and was gone before he could hear Adam’s whispered, almost desperate “I hope so, little brother, I hope so.”
That evening Adam had insisted that Ben go to bed, promising he would call if he needed anything. Adam could see how tired and drawn Ben was becoming; he was worried that his father would become ill again if he did not rest. Ben went reluctantly, but could see the sense in it.
The house was quiet when Adam woke. It was still dark outside and he lay deep in thought. He shifted in the bed; he had lain there so long he was getting stiff. As he moved, he felt a pain low down in his back. He stayed motionless for a moment as the implication of that feeling sank in to his brain. He moved again, and again the pain was there. Then he was aware that he could feel the bedclothes lying on his legs, something he had not felt since Paul had removed the bullet. He tried to move the toes on his right foot. Yes! There was definite movement, not much but enough to tell him that he could. Then he tried his left foot and again felt the movement. He took a deep breath to call out to his father, then changed his mind and let the breath out slowly. No, he wouldn’t mention it to anyone until he had spoken to the doctor. It was possible that it might be temporary and he did not want to get anyone’s hopes up, least of all his own.
When Paul Martin appeared, just after breakfast the next morning, Adam asked if he could speak to him alone. Ben was reluctant, wondering what Adam had to say to the doctor that he did not want his father to hear, but left them alone as he had requested. During the night and into the daylight Adam found that he had more movement and could now move his legs, though the pain it caused in his back made him cautious about trying it too much.
“Paul, I can move my legs,” he said.
Doc Martin looked down at him and smiled. “I hoped that the paralysis might be temporary, as a result of the swelling caused by the operation.”
“Then you think it might be a permanent improvement?” asked Adam warily.
“Yes. Once the movement comes back there is very little chance of a relapse.”
Adam just lay there. He was never one to show his emotions too openly and felt that if he gave in to the desire to express what he felt at that moment he might not be able to control himself. What he felt was a mixture of joy, relief and sadness. Sadness because he thought that he might have regained his mobility only to have his life snatched away from him, if they could not prove that he had not robbed the stage. But at least he would be able to walk to the gallows. Strangely, he found some small comfort in that thought.
“Could you get Pa? I’d like to tell him,” Adam asked the doctor.
Adam told Ben of the improvement. His father bent over him and, taking the face of his beloved eldest son in both hands, kissed him gently on the forehead.
“I’m so glad for you. Now all you have to do is get well.”
“Not quite all Pa. I must try and remember where I was that morning.” He turned to the doctor, “Paul is there any way you can help me?”
“There is no magic wand I can wave to make you remember. Your memory may come back by itself, you may see or hear something that will help you to remember, or it may never come back. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
While Paul was speaking, they heard the hoof beats of many horses in the yard outside. Ben went to the window to see who it was.
“What the devil…” he said, and left the room quickly.
“Who is it?” asked Adam.
”It looks like Abe Newman and about a dozen others, your Pa’s out there talking to them.” Said Paul looking out of the window. “I wonder what they want.” As he watched, Abe and one other, Jake Ashley, dismounted and after talking to Ben for a few minutes the three of them came into the house. Soon they appeared in Adam’s bedroom.
“There you are, I told you Adam was bed-ridden. Paul will you please tell these… ‘gentlemen’ of Adam’s condition.”
“If you want.” Paul turned to the two men. “I have removed a bullet from Adam’s back. He was paralysed for a short time but has now regained the use of his legs. In time he should make a full recovery.”
“How much time?” demanded Abe.
“It’s difficult to say. He should remain lying flat for at least another week, and then gradually start to move about. He ought to be back on his feet in about three weeks, all being well.”
“Right. We’ll be back then. But don’t think we are going to let you get away with this just because you’re a Cartwright,” Abe said addressing Adam.
“I assume you are talking about the robbery,” said Adam and Abe just nodded. “Well I would not expect to ‘get away with it’ as you put it, but you should know that I had nothing to do with it.”
“There’s eye witnesses that say different. And we want to see justice done. So don’t you think you are above the law. There’s a hanging due for this and we aim to see someone pay. We’ll be back.”
“That’s enough. How dare you come into this house and threaten my son. I’ll ask you to leave, now” said Ben. He could feel the anger rising inside him. He would dearly like to have struck down these men, but knew that would only cause Adam more trouble.
Abe and Jake left with a backward glance at Adam that told him they would be waiting for him to recover. Adam knew then that he had already been tried and sentenced by the populace of Virginia City. He hoped that his brothers could find some clue to what had happened.
Joe and Hoss had arrived at the site of Adam’s camp. They found his gun and coat lying where he had left them. Some animal had raided the supply of food he had brought with him, but otherwise nothing had been disturbed.
While Joe searched the area around the fire and where Adam’s bed had been, Hoss was looking where Sport had been tied. Suddenly he called out to Joe.
“Hey, come ‘ere. Look at this.” Joe went quickly over to his brother.
“What is it? Have you found something?” he enquired anxiously.
“Yeah, look at this. You can see where someone stood beside Sport, and by the footprints, it weren’t Adam. See where the man’s foot turns over to the outside? Adam don’t walk like that.”
“Then you think that someone else saddled Sport?”
“Looks that way, but why didn’t Adam do it?”
Joe and Hoss stood in silence trying to conjure up a reason for someone else to saddle Sport. They both came up with that reason at the same time.
“He couldn’t because…” started Joe.
“…someone had shot him,” finished Hoss.
“But if he was shot here then he could not have been shot by the stage driver,” shouted Joe excitedly. “We better get back and tell Pa and Adam.”
“Wait a minute Joe, hadn’t we better follow these tracks and see where they lead?”
“We know where they go, they go back to the Ponderosa. Sport brought Adam back home after he was shot.”
“Yeah, well I still think we should follow them, we might find out who saddled Sport. If they were the ones who shot Adam then I want to meet them. If they were helping Adam then I want to thank them. Though since they didn’t come to the house with him, I think it more likely that they were the ones who shot him. Yessir, I’d sure like to meet them.” Hoss had a hard look in his eyes that had Joe worried.
Usually it was Joe who had to be controlled by his brothers in a situation like this. But it seemed that it might be Hoss who would have to be held back if they came across the people who had attacked Adam, and Joe knew that he did not have the physical strength to restrain his brother, who was six inches taller and 100 pounds heavier than his young brother, all of it muscle. It was bad enough to have one of his brothers under threat of the gallows, but two would be unbearable. Joe hoped for Hoss’ sake that they would not find anyone.
They mounted their horses and, with Hoss leading, followed the trail. There were two other horses beside Sport, and the trail was easy to follow over the dusty mountain track that wound down the mountain and through the forest, until it passed beside a small stream. At a clearing in the woods near the stream, the horses had halted. Hoss and Joe also stopped and dismounted, and Hoss hunted round the site with Joe watching. His brother was an expert tracker and Joe did not want to get in his way, but he was impatient for Hoss’ interpretation of events as revealed in the marks on the ground.
“Well?” asked Joe anxiously.
“Well, as far as I can tell, the horses stopped here. But only two men dismounted.”
“What do you mean, did one ride off again?”
“No, all three horses stayed right here. But there are only two sets of footprints. Wait a moment,” said Hoss and started to trace where the two men had gone once they left the horses. Again, Joe waited eagerly for his brother to come up with some answers.
“Joe, I don’t like what I’m seeing.”
“Tell me, let me see if I come to the same conclusion.”
“OK. Follow me.” Hoss took Joe through what he thought had happened, showing him the clues as he did so.
“The two men got off their horses and took the third man from his an’ carried him, see how one of ‘em’s walking backward? Now, since neither of the two footprints matches Adam’s I suppose he was the one they were carrying. If he’d been shot then he might need carryin’, but then the tracks lead to that tree over there.” Hoss pointed to a sturdy pine tree, walked over to it and knelt down, with Joe following his every move.
“Now, you can see where someone has been sittin’ in front of this tree. If it was Adam they was carryin’ from his horse then it was probably Adam who was here. But there’s no blood on the tree, so had Adam been shot then? Probably not.” He held up his hands to stop Joe asking any questions until he had finished, there was more to tell him yet.
“If ya look at the back of the tree, can ya see some marks a few inches off the ground?” Joe nodded. “I think that they were made by a rope, as though someone had been tied to this tree. I think that whoever it was attacked Adam at his campsite, probably knocked him out, put him on his horse an’ brung him here as their prisoner. What that don’t tell us is who or why, or how Adam got shot. What d’ya think?”
Joe stood for several seconds and then looked up at his brother.
“What I think is that we had better get home and tell Pa what we’ve found, then tell the sheriff.”
**********
Ben was sitting with Roy Coffee in front of the fireplace, deep in conversation.
“I’ll make sure that either I am here or one of my deputies. As Adam’s under arrest there should be someone here to watch him anyway.”
“But you have his assurance that he will not try to leave. He gave you his word,” said Ben, upset that Roy would think he could not trust Adam.
“Ben, if he had given me his word for something last week I would have staked my life on his keeping it. But now…well would you expect me to trust him? If he did rob the stage, I mean. If he did shoot the guard then he is not the man I knew a week ago. But whatever the rights and wrongs of this I won’t have a lynching on my territory, so someone will be with him all the time.” Ben was about to reply when the front door opened and his two younger sons rushed in.
“Hey Pa, we found something,” started Hoss but stopped when he saw the sheriff. He was not sure that he wanted Roy to hear what they had found until they had told their father. He turned to Joe and raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“Yeah Pa, we found those stray cattle. Oh, hi sheriff.” Joe finished lamely.
“Well that’s great. I’ll talk to you about it later, meantime go and wash up for supper. You might look in on Adam as well, the sheriff here wants to stay to keep an eye on him. Frightened that he might run off,” Ben said bitterly.
While he appreciated the sheriff staying to watch out for any trouble the folks in Virginia City might be planning, he resented the implication that Adam could not be trusted. But as he thought about it reason overtook his thinking, and he recognised that of course Roy was right. If Adam was indeed guilty of robbery and murder, then he was not the man Ben knew as his son, and they had no reason to trust what he had become.
Joe and Hoss were glad that their father had caught on to their subterfuge in not telling the sheriff what they had found, and went upstairs. They were soon changed and in Adam’s room telling him about their discoveries.
“Wait a moment,” said Adam, “Say all that again, but in as much detail as you can, don’t miss out anything.” His eyes took on a far away look as though he was no longer with them. He was deep in thought. Joe let Hoss go over the details once again, only interrupting if he thought that Hoss had missed something.
Suddenly Adam gasped and shivered. Joe hurried to his brother’s side and held his shoulders tight, green eyes looking deep into brown.
“What is it, what’s the matter?” he enquired anxiously.
“I…I don’t know, just a feeling when you said about being tied to the tree. I felt…fear, very real and very deep fear.” Adam looked away from his brothers for a moment, uncomfortable at admitting any feelings of that sort to them.
“Can you tell why?” asked Joe, trying to prompt Adam into remembering.
“No. It’s just a feeling. Like when I woke up, I knew that I had to tell Pa something important but didn’t know what.”
Joe looked over at Hoss and raised his eyebrows enquiringly. But Hoss had no answers either.
“Well, if it’s not too painful for you, just keep going over in your mind what we found, it may come back to you.”
Adam nodded, not sure that he wanted to experience the feeling again, but of course Joe was right. Was it possible that he could remember what he had been doing? He had to grasp this slight chance, even if the memory was an unpleasant one for him.
Roy came into the room with Ben, “Adam, because of the visit you had from the good people of Virginia City I am going to have someone here all the time to guard you, either myself or one of my deputies. I won’t have people taking the law into their own hands.”
“Thanks Roy” said Adam, truly grateful that the responsibility for his safety would not fall entirely on the shoulders of his family. He found that he was feeling very vulnerable, lying there not able to move as he was accustomed to.
“He also doesn’t want you making off before he can take you to jail,” said Ben bitterly.
“Now Ben, you know my responsibilities in this, I don’t have a choice.”
“I know, I know but it doesn’t make it any more pleasant.”
“Well you don’t have to worry on that score.” Adam was trying to defuse what was obviously a previous argument between these two old friends, “I am not going anywhere for a bit.”
“I’ll have Hop Sing bring you some supper,” said Ben shortly and left, not looking at the sheriff.
Joe and Hoss followed their father down the stairs and told him of their findings. Ben was excited. “So it looks as though Adam was attacked by someone. Perhaps the same someone who robbed the stage. Perhaps, somehow, they forced Adam to help them rob the stage.”
“Now Pa,” said Hoss, “You cain’t jump to that sort of conclusion just on what we found. All it means is that Adam was taken from his camp and kept tied up in the clearing. And Adam ain’t goin’ to commit murder just because someone told him to.”
“No, I know. But it does mean that something out of the ordinary happened, and now we must find out what and why.” Ben started to pace the room.
“You two must go back to that clearing and see if you can find anything else, any clue as to what happened there. You said that Adam felt fear when you were telling him what you found. There must be a reason for that and perhaps you can find out what it was. I’ll tell Roy what you have found so far.”
The next morning, while the sheriff was downstairs eating breakfast, Hoss came into Adam’s room. “We heard what happened here yesterday. I think you’d better have this.” Hoss reached under his shirt and came out with a gun in his hand, which he passed to Adam, who took it cautiously, not sure that things wouldn’t look worse for him if it was found.
“Ya need to be able to protect yourself,” Hoss said reasonably. “I don’t care what they say you’ve done, I don’t believe it, I still trust ya to have this, and use it wisely if you need to. You’re my big brother and I have always looked up to you.” he smiled at the remark since he was a good three inches taller than his older brother.
“Adam, ever since I was old enough to notice you and what you was like, I’ve respected and admired you and tried to live up to the standards you set for both me an’ Joe. I know how you’ve looked after both of us all through our lives. I know how Pa relies on you and the responsibilities he puts on you. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t trust ya. I cain’t believe that you’ve changed so much. Take the gun an’ keep yourself safe, please.” Hoss stopped. He was looking down at his boots because he couldn’t look at his brother. He had never said these things before and he was embarrassed at saying them now, but he felt they needed saying. It was right that Adam should know how he felt, and know that he had support in his family.
“Thank you.” Those two words expressed everything Adam could say in reply to what Hoss had said and done.
Adam put the gun under his pillow where he could get at it easily should he need to. Hoss just nodded and left, they were both close to tears.
Hoss and Joe again set out. This time they went straight to the clearing by the stream. It had rained hard during the night and the signs they had found earlier were mostly washed away. They both said a silent prayer that they had been there the day before. Still they looked around, examining the ground and surrounding trees carefully for any slight sign that might help them.
“Hey, Joe, get over here,” ordered Hoss excitedly, and Joe came to where Hoss was crouched down on the ground off to one side of the clearing examining the grass underneath a log with his fingertips.
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure, see what you think. See here, this patch of grass seems to be discoloured. If I use some imagination I might suppose it’s blood.” He looked at Joe who also bent down to examine the grass.
“Yeah I see what you mean, but the rain has washed most of it away, it’s difficult to tell.” Joe wanted to be certain before he went to Ben with any new evidence.
“Maybe this is where Adam was shot,” he said distractedly, thinking of Adam’s reaction to their mention of the clearing. “Let’s go and look some more. See if there isn’t something else.”
The two brothers spent the rest of the day searching the area but could find no other clues that would help their oldest brother. Finally, as it was getting dark they gave up and returned to the house to tell their father of their failure. They mentioned the blood but impressed on him that they were far from certain that that is what it was, and they could find nothing to raise his spirits.
Ben was pacing the floor, as he spoke, “We still don’t have any clear evidence that Adam didn’t rob the stage. Everything you have found only tells us that Adam was probably in that clearing at some time, with some other people. They might be the ones who robbed the stage, but we can’t prove it wasn’t Adam.” Ben stopped pacing and stood, feeling helpless. It was not a feeling he was used to and he was not happy that he was unable to help his son. A sudden knock on the door was answered by Hoss. A man Hoss recognised as Frank Tate, one of Roy’s deputies stood there.
“I’ve come to relieve the sheriff,” he said a little awkwardly. He did not know if he would be welcome under the circumstances but Ben, knowing that the whole situation was now out of his control, told him to come in and sent Joe to get the sheriff.
Roy showed the deputy to Adam’s room and returned downstairs. “Ben, don’t worry, Frank’s a good man. He will take care of Adam. I’m going back to town, the posse is ready to go out again. There were two men who robbed the stage and if we can find the other one, then…” he shrugged and left the sentence unfinished. They all knew that there was little hope of finding the other man, but if they could then, perhaps, they could get to the bottom of what had happened.
It was mid morning, eight days after he was shot, that Adam was allowed to venture down into the sitting room for a short time. Paul Martin had not been too happy about him being on his feet so soon, but Adam had convinced the doctor that it would do him good, and promised that he would go back to bed after a couple of hours.
Adam had dressed in his usual black shirt and pants to make himself feel as though he was getting back to normal, but putting on his boots had proved too much of a challenge, and he went barefoot. He walked gingerly down the stairs, leaning heavily on his father on one side, and the sheriff on the other. He was still uncertain that his legs would support him, and by the time his father settled him on the sofa in front of the fire he could feel himself shaking from the effort. Ben hovered round Adam, tucking a blanket round his knees and making sure that he had everything he wanted close to hand, never letting Adam reach for anything, but leaping to his feet at the first sign of need.
“For heaven’s sake Pa, stop fussing, I’m fine. It feels good to be on my feet again, but you’re making me feel more like an invalid every minute.”
”I’m sorry son, I just don’t want you straining yourself. It is good to see you
up and about again. I just don’t want you doing too much, too soon and making
yourself ill again.”
“Ok, I promise I won’t overdo it. If you want to do something, pass me a book, and get me a cup of coffee, then sit down yourself. I’ve seen how you’ve worn yourself out these past days, and I think you could do with a rest as well. I expect Roy could do with a cup while you’re making it.”
Adam looked towards Roy Coffee who had settled himself in the chair to the left of the fireplace. Adam had got used to having a ‘watchdog’ with him all the time, he did not like it but understood the reason for it. There had been a number of different deputies assigned to the task, but as the search for the other man who had held up the stage lost it’s urgency, the men who had been deputised for the duration went back to their normal occupations. There was only so much time that they could spend in what had become a fruitless search.
“Yes, a coffee would be good, thanks Ben.”
They sat in silence for ten minutes. Adam had a book open on his lap but he wasn’t paying much attention to it. His thoughts kept returning to what was going to happen when he was well enough to travel, and Roy would take him to jail in Virginia City. His brothers had not found any more clues that would point towards his innocence, or guilt, and Adam was continually dogged by the thought that he was going to be convicted of the murder of the stage guard, and the inevitable sentence that would follow. Adam could not talk to his father about it; he hoped that seeing him getting better would make Ben forget, for the moment, the very short future in prospect for his son.
Ben was quiet for much the same reason, and he found it difficult to talk about it to Adam. He hoped that by not mentioning it Adam would be able to put it at the back of his mind, and concentrate on getting better. Ben was also finding it difficult to talk to his old friend Roy Coffee; he still resented the continual presence of a guard for Adam.
Roy was quiet because he could not find it in himself to make casual conversation with Adam, knowing what was facing him, and he knew that Ben was offended by his presence there.
Eventually Ben could stand it no longer and rose, telling them that he had to go out to check on the men who had started work at the logging camp. Adam knew that this was merely an excuse to get away from an awkward situation. The men did not need checking on at that moment and Joe had said that he would look in on them later in the day. Ben went out saying that he would return in time for lunch, leaving Roy and Adam to their silence.
“Your father still doesn’t like me being here, does he?” said Roy, as he came back from the kitchen with another cup of coffee for them both. He handed one to Adam and sat down again.
“Thanks,” said Adam, taking the cup from Roy. “He just can’t get over the fact that you don’t trust me. Though I get the feeling that he isn’t entirely convinced of my innocence either,” Adam said a little sadly, hoping it was not true. He sipped his coffee thoughtfully.
“Adam, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but I would be failing in my duty if I didn’t have someone here to keep an eye on you. Would you expect me to let anyone else who was charged with murder go around unsupervised?”
“No, of course not, but he thinks, as I do, that you should be out there trying to find who was responsible. He thinks you’re taking the easy way out by assuming it was me.”
A knock came on the front door and Roy put his cup down on the table, as he rose to answer it, finding Frank Tate standing there. “Hi, Frank, come in. What are you doing here?” asked Roy. Tate glanced over at Adam and looked uneasy.
“Er, can I have a word with you outside.”
Adam listened with interest to this short exchange, wondering if Frank’s reluctance to speak in front of him meant that he had some news about the hold up. Roy followed the deputy outside. There he saw Jacob Hunt, the Wells Fargo man, sitting on his horse, waiting.
“What is it, Frank?”
“Well, Sheriff, it seems that we may have got a lead on the second man involved in the hold up. I had a couple of men in the office today from the Circle J. They said that they had just come back from Placerville, and there they heard about a man who had suddenly come into a lot of money. You know, spending more than he should have. Playing poker and drinking, and treating the saloon gals. They had a fella point the man out to them, and then came back here to tell you. They say they are willing to go back to Placerville to bring him back, if you go with them. Knowing that you wanted a guard on young Cartwright, I tried to find someone to come here but couldn’t, then Mr Hunt offered. I don’t know if I did the right thing…” Tate finished uncertainly.
Roy thought for a moment. He had come to know Hunt because of the robbery, and felt that he could trust the man. Also, he did not need Hunt to testify at Adam’s trial because of the other eyewitnesses. He seemed the perfect choice. He was not at all sure that Adam would see it that way though.
“Mr. Hunt are you willing to look after Adam Cartwright, protect him from anyone who may come here?” queried Roy. “I understand how you might feel, seeing as how he is accused of robbing a stage.”
“Sheriff my only interest is in seeing justice done, no more, no less,” said Hunt reasonably.
“Very well. But you’d better let me go talk to Adam first.” And Roy went back into the house. He returned after a few minutes. “Come in,” he invited, and Hunt dismounted and followed him into the house.
“Adam, this is Jacob Hunt.”
Adam turned to look at the man who had entered. He was short and stocky, and as Hunt removed his hat Adam could see his thick fair hair, and piercing blue eyes. A man of intelligence Adam decided. “I gather you are my new guardian,” said Adam, turning back to his book.
Roy and Hunt looked at each other and Roy shrugged.
“I’ll leave you to it then.” Roy turned to go.
“I hope you find him, Roy. I need his testimony,” said Adam over his shoulder. The sheriff had explained to him his need to leave.
“We’ll do our best.”
Jacob Hunt sat in the chair recently vacated by the sheriff. He looked at Adam, considering. “I gather that you insist that you did not rob the stage,” Hunt said into the silence.
Adam looked up sharply. A silent shiver went through him when he heard the man’s voice. Why? What was it about this man, who he had only met minutes before, which unsettled him? Something about his voice, where had he heard it before? Adam closed his eyes trying to capture an elusive thought. What was it that he had felt when he heard the voice? Suddenly Adam knew, it was fear. The same fear that he had felt when Hoss mentioned the clearing and the tree.
“I don’t insist anything. I can’t remember where I was that morning, but it just doesn’t feel right. Anyone in Virginia City will tell you that it is so far out of character for me to have done such a thing, that I cannot imagine myself in that position.”
Adam needed to keep this man talking. He needed to hear that voice until he could place it.
“But they have eye witnesses, who are certain it was you they saw.” Hunt reminded Adam.
“Yes I know. That makes it hard to prove my innocence. I will have to be able to prove that either I was somewhere else, or that someone else did it. Since I was supposed to be up in the mountains hunting, I would have been alone. So there would be no one who could say that they were with me at the time. My only hope is Roy finding the men who did it. Or the jury taking the word of any character witnesses. It’s a slim hope, but possible.” Adam stared into the fire thinking that if the man they had gone to seek in Placerville was indeed one of the robbers, then he might have a chance.
“Can you remember anything at all about that day?” probed Hunt.
“There are flashes but nothing definite. Hoss and Joe found evidence that I might have been attacked and taken to a clearing at some point, and I have a vague memory of that, but again I can’t prove it. But we know something strange happened.”
Suddenly it all came back. Like lightning flashing in his brain, Adam remembered what had happened to him, and who had caused it.
Adam had come round after the blow to his head, to find that it was nearly dawn. He was sitting on the ground, his hands tied round the pine tree behind him. There were two men with him, one stretched out on the ground asleep, the other sitting beside a campfire, poking at it with a stick. The man became aware of Adam watching him.
“Do you want some coffee?” the man asked and Adam nodded slowly. His head hurt where he had been struck, and he felt sick, but thought some coffee might help. The man poured some into a cup, walked over to Adam, and held it so that he could drink.
“Thanks,” said Adam. The dark, bitter liquid had made him feel a little better. He looked around the clearing and thought that he recognised the area. It seemed that he was still on the Ponderosa.
“What am I doing here? What do you want?” he asked between mouthfuls.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Meantime I suggest that you just sit quiet,” said the man. He was a little older than Adam and by the look of his deeply tanned face, used to an outdoor life. Adam tried to get the man to talk, but he said nothing more, just looked at Adam and then sat opposite him by the fire.
Eventually the sleeping man stirred and rose. He was younger and shorter than the first man, but with the same tanned face. These men looked like they may have worked on a ranch, or at least they were used to being out in the open.
“So he’s awake, eh.” The second man said, looking across at Adam. He poured some coffee and helped himself to some beans that the older man had prepared. They did not offer any to Adam.
The two men seemed to be waiting for something, as occasionally one of them would pull a watch from his pocket to check the time.
“No sign of them yet,” said the younger of the two.
“It’s too early. Stage don’t leave ‘till eight,” said the other, and they lapsed into silence.
Adam lost track of time as he sat there. He remembered that he had been going to put on his coat when he had been attacked and now the chill dawn air was cutting through him, the discomfort adding to the pain in his head. The combined effects made him sleepy and occasionally he closed his eyes, then jerked his head up painfully as he realised that he had dozed off. It was some hours later that they heard hoof beats coming towards them. Two mounted men appeared, one of them supporting the other, who was bent over in the saddle.
Adam sucked in a breath as he saw that the injured man was riding Sport, who pranced nervously at the feeling of the unaccustomed rider.
“What happened?” asked the older man as the newcomer dismounted. He was carrying a strong box that he dropped on the ground.
The two who had been guarding Adam helped the injured man from the saddle, and laid him on the ground. When Adam saw the man’s face, he froze. It was like looking in a mirror, same dark hair and eyes, same high forehead, same curl to his mouth, the dark clothing completing the picture. Adam could have been looking at himself.
“The driver had a gun hidden under his seat. He took a shot at us as we rode off. Got Mike in the back.”
“Now what are we going to do?” The older man asked, looking towards Adam.
“The Boss said that we would have to shoot him.”
“What? Kill him?” asked the younger man, clearly worried by the prospect.
Adam sat, transfixed by this exchange, realising that he was in mortal danger. If they decided to shoot him, there was nothing he could do about it.
“No,” replied the man, “Just like Mike has been shot, gotta look the same. They’ve gotta think it was him. Boss says you mustn’t kill him though.”
”OK, let’s get on with it then,” said the older man, and they all three walked
over to Adam.
The older man and the newcomer stood in front of Adam with their guns drawn, while the third went behind the tree and untied the ropes which were restraining him. Adam brought his arms round in front of him and rubbed at his wrists. The ropes had not been tight and there was not a mark on him, but his hands felt stiff from lack of movement.
“Get up,” ordered the older man. Adam rel