Playing Soldiers
(Disclaimer: I have borrowed a character from Season 5)
Prologue -1847
“Bang! Bang!” The voice of seven year old Little Joe Cartwright rang throughout the large sitting room of the Ponderosa. “Bang! Bang!” he continued, riding his favorite pony within his mind as he shot at the imaginary Indians that appeared behind every chair and table. Without thought for safety, he kept running speedily between the furniture with his left hand and fingers drawn into the shape of a gun, his battle building up to its usual conclusion when he would shoot down the last Indian and rein up, victorious!
Suddenly a large figure emerged from the kitchen and Little Joe ran headlong into his father; the coffee in Ben’s hand spilled onto the floor, the cup following with a crash.
“Joseph! Watch what you are doing!” cried Ben, as his little son looked up in alarm.
“Gosh. Sorry Pa, but I had that last Indian on the run, and nearly got him!” Joe yelled triumphantly.
“Well, you should be getting ready for bed, young man, not riding the range at this time of night.” Picking up the broken crockery, Ben returned to the kitchen and brought out a cloth to clean up the spilt liquid.
“Ah, shucks Pa. Do I have to go to bed?” Little Joe asked, his dark green eyes pleading with his father for just another five minutes before climbing the stairs to his room. With his brother Hoss staying over at a friend’s house that night, it left the youngster with just his father for company, and he had looked forward to having him all to himself for once, if only for a few extra precious minutes.
Ben shot him a look of annoyance as he finished wiping the floor, but his heart melted at the forlorn look on Joe’s face and he gave a smile. “All right, son. Just another five minutes, but you stop playing cowboys and Indians and sit quietly.”
“Yes sir,” replied Little Joe. “But I wasn’t playing cowboys and Indians Pa. I was a cavalry soldier chasing those Indians.”
Depositing the dirty cloth in the kitchen sink, Ben carried in a fresh cup of coffee, settling back in his favorite chair as he pulled out a letter from his shirt pocket. Little Joe sat quietly on the settee, watching as his father began to read, noticing the quiet smile that crept across his father’s face. He had seen that look many times and knew it must be a letter from his eldest brother Adam. It was at times like these Ben liked to be undisturbed, left to wallow in the fine words and descriptions written by his eldest son, now so many miles away at college in Boston. However, for the seven year old, patience was never his strongest virtue, and he shuffled noisily in his seat, unable to keep his silence for more than a minute.
“Pa! When I grow up I want to be a soldier,” he stated to his audience of one.
“Mm?” replied Ben, reading intently and not really listening to the youngster who was looking thoughtfully into the fire.
“When I grow up, I’m going to be a soldier,” Joe repeated, a little too loud for Ben’s liking.
Ben looked over at Joe, frowning slightly. “Why would you want to be a soldier, son? Last month you wanted to be a sailor, and the month before a sheriff. What’s wrong with just being a cowboy and helping to run this ranch with your brothers?”
“Nothing I suppose Pa…but I’m always going to be the smallest and youngest around here. Too little to do the heavy jobs and too young to do the important ones. With Adam and Hoss around, you’ll manage fine without me. No! I want to be a cavalry soldier and fight battles, see lots of different places!”
Ben put down his treasured letter and looked at his son thoughtfully. “But I thought you loved the ranch, Joe? Don’t you want to be a part of it, help to make it bigger?”
The youngster nodded his head slightly, but still looked a little doubtful. “Sure I do, Pa…but sometimes I wonder what it would be like to do something else, go somewhere else. After all, you let Adam go away.”
“But Adam is coming back Joe. He wants to return and put his education to good use around here.”
“But if I really wanted to do something else, would you let me, Pa?”
Ben gave a gentle smile and nodded. “Of course, son. I would never stop you, Adam or Hoss following your dreams, whatever they were. But I would always hope the Ponderosa was a big enough dream for you all to share together.”
Joe nodded, his seven year old mind taking in all his father had said. “I still want to be a soldier, though, Pa. That’s my dream….even if I stay here on the Ponderosa. I am allowed to have a dream like that, aren’t I Pa?”
“Of course you can have your dream, Joe. But I bet by next week there will be something else you want to do or be, you mark my words!” Ben smiled at his son, the sparkling green eyes holding his own gaze.
“I don’t think so Pa,” replied Little Joe resolutely. “I love playing soldiers, so one day I’m going to be one, and that’s final!”
Ben laughed at his resolve, though not taking his young son seriously. “Well, in that case, Soldier Joe, you better start taking orders and head up those stairs to bed. Wouldn’t want you to miss getting up early for reveille in the morning!”
“Ah Pa, I’m not going to be a soldier for years,” laughed Little Joe as he went to Ben’s side and kissed him goodnight. “I’m going to need to sleep in late for a long time yet!” he shouted cheekily as he marched up the stairs, his father chuckling at him as he disappeared around the corner to his room.
**********
1861
“Joseph!” Ben’s deep booming voice echoed up the stairs of the Ponderosa as he stood at the bottom, holding on to the banister rail, tapping his foot on the first step in annoyance.
With no sight or sound of movement from above, Ben shouted again. “Joseph! If you aren’t down here in one minute, there’s going to be trouble!” Sitting at the dining table, Hoss and Adam caught each other’s gaze and shook their heads, both smiling, knowing their little brother was surely in for it this time. Last night he had promised faithfully to be up early, long before his father was due to leave for a five day trip to Sacramento and the yearly timber conference.
This meeting was one Ben attended each year, keen to push forward his ideas of conservation with constant debate amongst the other land owners of Nevada and California. Not for him the policy of stripping every living tree to supply the booming silver mines that had shot up over the past few years. Ben Cartwright had decided years before to continually replant and restock the slopes of the Sierra Nevada and not leave them bare and barren once the pines had been felled to sustain the hunger of the Comstock Lode. It was a policy he felt compelled to pursue with anyone who would listen, year after year.
“That brother of yours is going to feel the palm of my hand on his backside in a minute, even if he has turned twenty-one!” cried Ben as he grew red with anger listening to the undeniable sound of silence from the upstairs bedroom. Taking a deep breath, he placed his foot on the first step in readiness to charge upstairs when the front door suddenly opened and a fresh faced and wide awake youngest son entered the room.
“You want me, Pa?” Joe asked as he looked over towards his father. “Heard you yelling from the yard!”
Ben turned around in amazement. “Joseph! Where did you come from?” he responded, not quite believing his eyes. Equally surprised at his sudden appearance, Adam and Hoss sat back on their chairs as they watched the exchange between their brother and father with interest.
“Well, you told me to be up early! So I’ve harnessed the buggy and put your suitcase under the seat, as you asked me to. You do still want me to drive you into town in time to catch the stage, don’t you, Pa?” Joe asked in all innocence.
“Erm… yes, son, that’s just what I wanted you to do. Thank you,” said Ben, giving his son an apologetic look as he walked over to his desk.
Noting how his father was walking from the direction of the stairs, shocked enlightenment suddenly appeared on Joe’s face. “You didn’t think I was still in bed, did you, Pa?”
Ben gave a slight cough while Adam and Hoss began to hide a snigger as they watched their father’s face turn red with embarrassment. “Guess I did think the worst of you, Joseph. I apologize,” he said as Joe wandered towards the fireplace.
“That’s okay, Pa. Just wish some folk around here would have a bit more faith in me sometimes,” Joe said, sitting down on the settee, a forlorn look covering his face.
Shaking his head as he smiled gently towards Joe, Ben tidied up his desk, checking everything Adam would need for the next few days was left ready for him. “Everything is here, Adam. The list of chores and all the paperwork for those accounts I need finalizing, so you and Hoss should have no problems while I’m away,” he shouted over to his son, who was reading the local newspaper, his breakfast now finished as he supped his fourth cup of coffee of the morning.
“I’m sure we will cope just fine,” Adam called over as Ben gave his desk a final glance. Hoss nodded silently in agreement, his brow furrowed in concentration as he chewed a small piece of egg-soaked bread.
Joe rolled his eyes. Just what he needed, he mused. Too many chiefs and not enough Indians with his two elder brothers around to give him orders.
“When do I ever get to be in charge of delegating out all the chores?” asked Joe mournfully in a quiet voice, half talking to himself.
“When I feel I can trust you, young man,” answered Ben who had heard his son’s question clearly from the other side of the room.
Joe shot round and looked at his father. “Why can’t you trust me, Pa? When have I ever let you down?”
“Joseph, I seem to remember the last time I left you in charge, you ended up masterminding the robbing of a bank with your brother! Or had that little episode just slipped your mind?” Ben asked, raising his eyebrows as Joe looked over at him.
“But Pa, it wasn’t my fault! There were extenuating circumstances….and I did give the money back!” Joe added, a slight smile of triumph on his face.
“Not your fault? And whose fault was it that we had that odious man, Jedediah Millbank, staying last year with a busted foot?”
Joe frowned remembering the incident. “But it was just an accident, Pa! Didn’t mean to hit him on the foot with that log!”
“That is not the point, young man!” cried Ben, inwardly chuckling to himself as the image of Jedediah leaving with the broken buggy canopy falling over his head flooded back. “And what about you winning poor Su Ling in a poker game not so long ago…I suppose that wasn’t your fault either?”
“I thought I was winning a horse! But I had a straight flush, Pa…never won with that before!”
Ben fought hard to contain from laughing as he sought to keep the conversation serious.
“I just cannot allow myself to leave you in charge again, Joseph. Heaven knows what I would come back to!”
Joe gave a glare of frustration. “It’s not fair, Pa! Elder brother is going to get me doing all the worst jobs….you know he is!”
Ben looked over at Adam, who was smiling broadly and nodding enthusiastically. “Oh yes, little brother, I have quite a few of the most dirtiest jobs imaginable,” he teased as Joe gave him an icy stare.
“See what I mean, Pa?”
“I am sure Adam will be fair in dishing out all the chores between the three of you, Joe,” Ben said, walking behind the settee and giving his youngest son a loving pat on the shoulder.
Joe looked up and caught his father’s gaze, but was not convinced. “Yeah! I bet!” he said slowly as he looked over at the mischievous smile still evident on his elder brother’s face. “Sometimes I wish I’d joined the Army. Would be ordered around a lot less than I am here!”
Ben tried hard to keep a straight face. This had been Joe’s favorite expression since childhood, uttered every time he felt the whole world must be against him! Hoss started to laugh at the amusing exchange between his family, but then winced with pain and shot his hand to his mouth, rubbing his cheek.
“You still got the toothache, Hoss?” asked Ben, Joe now forgotten as he gave his middle son a look of concern.
Hoss nodded. “Sure have, Pa, and it seems to be getting worse. Can’t chew anything on that side of my mouth….and I’m even losing my appetite,” he replied, pushing away his half-eaten breakfast as his cheek became redder.
“Now that is bad news, boy!” said Ben kindly, aware of Hoss’ love of food. Anything that put him off eating Hop Sing’s glorious fare was truly serious. “Just get yourself over to the dentist, son.”
Hoss eyed his father, nodding and giving him a weak smile. Although he had the strength of three grown men, his fear of dentists was legendary and every excuse imaginable had been put forward over the past weeks to delay a visit. “I will, Pa, but that stuff he uses to knock me out always leaves me feeling sickly,” he mumbled painfully, keen to offer another excuse as he felt the offending molar with his tongue. The pulsating tooth sent a spasm of pain around his mouth and Hoss yelped, his eyes watering with the agony of it all
For such a big man, there was something of the small child about Hoss at times and Ben noticed a look of fear on his son’s face. He walked towards him, placing his hand on his shoulder and squeezing it tenderly. “Son, you can’t put it off any longer. You know that, don’t you?” Hoss nodded miserably his hand drifting back to the sore cheek. His face visibly paled as he now realized the inevitability of taking a trip to Virginia City where the dentist had his office.
“Come on, Hoss, I’ve got an idea,” said Ben finally. “You drive me into town instead of Joe. Get yourself booked into the hotel, then get that tooth removed at the dentists. If you are feeling unwell, at least you can recover overnight without having to ride back here.” Throwing a look between Adam and Joe, he added. “I’m sure your brothers will manage a day without you to help with the chores.”
Hoss glanced over. “We will manage just fine Hoss,” responded Adam seriously as he noted the half eaten egg and bacon on Hoss’ plate.
Joe also looked at him in sympathy. “Don’t you worry none, brother. Can’t have you starving yourself now, can we?” he said, though inwardly groaning at the thought of the extra chores that would undoubtedly be thrown his way.
Considering for a moment, Hoss nodded resignedly. “Okay I will…and thanks.”
With one son sorted out, Ben looked back towards his youngest, who’d returned to stare despondently into the fire, disappointment showing plainly on his face. His plan to have a day out in Virginia City once his father was safely deposited on the stage was foiled. Now all there was to look forward to was elder brother telling him what to do.
“Tell you what, Joe,” said Ben, leveling a sympathetic glance his way. “I’ll make a deal with you.”
Joe looked up, his eyes widening in surprise. “Pa?” he responded confused. “What kind of deal?”
Ben moved to his armchair and sat down as Joe looked at him intently.
“Yes Pa! What kind of deal?” echoed Adam, equally intrigued as he rose from his chair and stood with his back to the large fireplace, while Hoss walked upstairs to pack an overnight bag, still trying to rub away the pain of his infected tooth through his cheek.
Ben sat back and smiled, well aware of the undivided attention now thrown his way by his eldest and youngest. “Well, Joe. Seems to me whenever I leave, I always return to find you in a physically battered state, or the Ponderosa verging on some sort of disaster! So, this time when I return, I want to find not one scratch or cut on you caused by fighting with your elder brother or being involved in a drunken brawl. Not one mark! You will do everything asked of you without a quibble and the ranch must be running smoothly and without any problems caused by you. If these conditions are met, then I will allow you to be in charge the next time I’m away. How does that sound?” he asked, waiting for an answer from Joe as his son squirmed in his seat.
“Gee Pa, that’s hard. Sometimes disasters just sort of happen around me….and you know I always seem to end up in a fight at some point with Adam while you’re away. And as for the drunken brawl…..that means I would have to stay away from the saloons every night!”
“Take it or leave it, Joseph!” cried Ben as he stood up and made towards the front door.
Joe swallowed hard, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the slightly curled mouth of Adam, his brother who was trying hard not to laugh. This was such a safe bet, Adam mused. Little brother could hardly manage a day, let alone, five without getting into some kind of fight.
Joe stared back at Adam, equally aware of the difficulty of the task involved. “Okay, Pa. It’s a deal,” he replied finally. After all, what had he to lose? Suddenly another thought came to him. “What happens if I don’t manage to keep my hands off brother Adam?” he asked, shooting his elder brother a nervous look. “Do I have to pay a forfeit?”
Trying hard to suppress a chuckle, Ben looked back over as he put on his jacket and gun belt, catching the note of panic in Joe’s voice. “Well, apart from not being in charge in the near future, I’m sure we could think of a task that would keep you out of trouble for another week, far away from Virginia City and the ranch….clearing out the old line shacks comes to mind as a suitable chore. What do you say, Adam?” he asked, throwing a deep grin over towards his eldest son. Adam nodded as he stifled the laugh forming within his throat, while Joe eyed him with a look of brotherly disdain.
Hoss walked downstairs, his bag packed. His infected tooth started to throb painfully again, making him swallow hard as he grimaced in discomfort.
Joe looked over with sympathy, acknowledging the torment his brother was going through. “Don’t you worry none, Hoss. Sooner that tooth is out the better. Just think of those juicy steaks you will be able to eat after today.”
“Thanks, Joe…that’s the one happy thought I will hold during the whole painful process,” Hoss responded as he moved to the front door, appreciating the look of concern passed his way by his little brother.
“So I will see you boys in five days,” Ben stated, viewing his youngest son’s back as he placed his hat on his head. “Just remember, Joe, while I’m away, Adam has carte blanche to run the Ponderosa. You do what he tells you….to the letter! Do you understand?”
“Yes sir. I understand,” Joe called to his father without turning around, curling his lip and poking his tongue out at Adam, who was stood facing him by the fireplace with a smug look on his face.
“And stop poking your tongue out at your brother! You’re not a little kid anymore, Joseph!” cried Ben as Hoss opened the door and went outside. Joe sat back with a start. Ben grinned over as Adam nodded, both men giving a combined look of understanding as Adam finally was unable to keep from laughing out loud at the look of surprise on his little brother’s face.
From the settee Joe turned around and gave his father a lingering look of misery, one that conveyed the deep sense of foreboding he seemed to feel at being left for five whole days in the hands of such a hard taskmaster….his brother! “Bye, Pa,” he said, forcing out a smile as his father gazed at him with loving concern.
Ben looked at the curly haired young man with the deep green eyes who constantly brought him such joy. “Goodbye, Joseph,” he said softly closing the door behind him.
Suddenly Ben shivered, a feeling of unknown dread washing over him. Although he was not a superstitious man, he held onto the door knob for a few moments, as if not sure whether to go or stay.
“Pa? You coming?” asked an impatient Hoss, his tooth now throbbing relentlessly, as he watched his father hesitate by the door.
Silently cursing himself for his unfounded uneasiness, Ben turned and joined Hoss, climbing up by his son’s side, the buggy and its two occupants disappearing quickly behind the back of the barn in a cloud of dust.
**********
Joe gave a loud yawn and stretched out his arms above his head, his early morning start now catching up with him. He glanced over as his brother walked to the desk and sat in his father’s chair, fingering the expanse of papers laid out in a tidy line.
“Well Adam, lets get it over with. What delightful chore have you decided I should do first?” Joe asked resignedly, expecting the worst.
Adam looked up and gave his brother a playful grin. “Why don’t you come over here and we’ll go through the list together?” he asked. “There are quite a few to choose from.”
“Okay,” Joe sighed, pushing himself up then joining his brother. He perched himself on the corner of the desk and picked up the paper with the familiar handwriting of his father.
“Pa certainly didn’t want us to be idle, did he?” he remarked miserably, as his eyes flittered up and down the sheet of paper.
Shaking his head Adam took the paper from Joe’s hand and began to scan it himself.
“Let’s see… barn roof in need of repairing. Water holes in the east meadow to clear out. Finish mending the fence by the top of east meadow. Clear debris from the stream behind the house….” Adam’s voice trailed to silence as he quickly scanned down the list.
“I see what you mean, Joe. There’s enough here to keep us occupied for a week, never mind five days especially with Hoss out of action till tomorrow. I reckon Pa made out this list extra long deliberately, just to keep us away from the Silver Dollar!”
Adam sat thoughtfully as he re-read the list once again, mulling over an idea as he noticed Joe’s forlorn expression. Finally his decision was made and he took a deep breath. “These chores need to be prioritized,” he said, passing the paper back to Joe. “If you can sort them out, I’ll do the accounts in the evening, and you can be in charge… deal?”
Joe gave him a quick glance in astonishment. “You’re asking me to be in charge?” his voice high pitched as his eyes widened in surprise. “What would Pa say?”
“Pa left me with carte blanche to run the ranch, remember? Said you had to follow my orders…to the letter! Well I’m ordering you to sort out these chores and then take charge! Besides, you’ve as much idea as any of us when it comes to this sort of thing,” he admitted, pointing to the paper clenched tightly in Joe’s hand. The respect in Adam’s voice was more than evident as Joe stared at him incredulously.
“You really want me to make the decisions? Tell you what to do?” Joe asked again in disbelief.
“Why not, Joe? Don’t you think you’re up to it?”
Joe, a little taken aback, looked down at the paper in his hand as his stomach lurched unexpectedly.
“Joe? Are you alright?” inquired Adam, noticing how his brother’s face had turned decidedly pale.
“I’m not sure…this has come as a bit of a shock, you know!” Joe answered, trying hard to hide his nervousness. Being in charge was one thing, but to have the last word above his elder brother Adam! Well, that was another matter entirely. For a couple of minutes the two men sat in silence as Joe scanned down the list again. Slowly a confident smile appeared on his face. “I’m up to it, Adam! I’ll get these chores sorted out in such a way they will all be completed before Pa gets home!”
Adam raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Such a confident statement, little brother! Well, if you can do that, the beer is on me for the next month,” he replied, grinning widely at Joe. “So where do you want me to start?”
Joe laughed out loud, reveling at his brother’s confidence in his capabilities. “Just give me half an hour, Adam….and thanks!” said Joe sincerely, leveling a grateful gaze with his brother, before picking up a pencil and walking over to the dining table to check through the list, concentrating hard on his newly acquired task.
Though never one to openly admit it, Adam loved and respected Joe more than his little brother would ever believe. Although Joe often rebelled at his elder brother’s pompous and over protective nature, Adam recognized that under the impish, charming, volatile tempered, and devil-may-care attitude of his little brother was an thoughtful, caring and highly intelligent young man, more than capable of taking responsibility…if only he took life a little more seriously at times!
Adam knew their father would not approve of his unscheduled change of plan, so he steeled himself for his father’s wrath as he leaned back in his chair unrepentant.
Whistling softly, he folded his arms and closed his eyes awaiting the rescheduled work rota, hoping with all his heart he’d done the right thing.
**********
The following two days passed in an exhausting blur as Adam and Joe worked through the long list of chores, hardly stopping for a minute, Joe’s order of priority seeming to ease the time and effort required for each task. Adam accepted Joe’s orders without contradiction, leaving Joe a little taken aback at the reversal of roles between them as the two brothers worked in unison and without argument.
As they ate their supper on the second evening, it was obvious Hoss was not going to be joining them that night from his excursion to the dentist.
“It looks like our big brother needs to convalesce a little longer than he intended,” remarked Adam as he poured out two cups of coffee and passed one over to Joe.
“So it would seem,” replied Joe. “But we’ve worked well together, Adam. I have actually enjoyed doing all these chores with just the two of us….but don’t go telling Pa that, will you? You do realize he won’t believe we haven’t been at loggerheads all the time?”
“No, I guess he won’t!” answered Adam, also happy at their brotherly closeness over the past few days. The two men pushed back their chairs from the table and made themselves comfortable in the two armchairs opposite each other, both glad of the chance to ease their aching backs.
“What do we have to do tomorrow, Boss?” Adam asked, giving Joe a friendly grin as they supped their coffee together in front of the blazing fire. Joe returned his smile, appreciating the quiet acceptance of all he had requested of his elder brother, never having to ask twice. He put down his coffee cup and brought out the well folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket. Nodding to himself as he read the chores left to do he stared for a minute, deep in thought, pondering his next course of action.
“There are a couple of small chores to do around the barn, and those at the east meadow. I reckon they are going to take quite a few hours. After that, we should be finished!” he said gleefully, giving himself an imaginary pat on the back as he grinned over at Adam.
Frowning slightly, Adam leant over and took hold of the paper studying it closely. “I can hardly believe it…never thought we would actually do all Pa wanted. I take my hat off to you, little brother…you’re a good organizer!”
“Thank you,” answered Joe, gratefully accepting the praise. “That means a lot to me.”
“I mean it, Joe,” replied Adam, stretching out his long legs and heaving them to rest on the coffee table in front of him. “I must admit I didn’t think it was possible, but you have done wonders.”
Not used to such congratulatory words, especially from his elder brother, Joe gave an embarrassed nod then relaxed in silence for what seemed an age until finally Adam sat up as if to rise.
“Ah, well, I had better start doing some more of those accounts. Only managed a couple of hours last night….was too plum tuckered out to do any more,” Adam stated, yawning loudly.
“Leave them tonight, Adam. There’s always tomorrow….that’s an order!” chuckled Joe, giving his brother a beaming smile.
Adam sat back, inwardly relieved of an excuse to remain sitting where he was. Both brothers stared with heavy eyes into the flickering flames that danced in the huge grate in front of them and within minutes were sound asleep, their faint snores the only noise competing with the crackling flames that continued to shoot up the soot lined chimney.
The next morning dawned with not a cloud in the Nevada sky. Adam made his way to the dining table, glancing at an empty coffee cup sat on the table. He was still sore from the past two days heavy labor, and stiff from the unscheduled sleep in his chair for most of the night. Both brothers had finally awoken around 3am, and had sleepily hauled themselves up to their beds, gratefully accepting the feel of their comfortable mattress and warm blankets.
When leaving his room, Adam had been tempted to knock hard on Joe’s bedroom door when passing, but decided to let his little brother have the well deserved lie-in he usually craved. However, as Adam sat down at the dining table he noticed a note pinned under his plate and he looked at it, raising his eyebrows with surprise.
Not only was Joe already up, he’d decided to go to the east meadow alone, taking all the supplies for the tasks to be done in the wagon. As the journey took a couple of hours and the work involved would take quite a while, he had decided to camp over night so he could complete all that was required without the need to return to the ranch. All remaining chores, including the barn repair would therefore be completed the day after. Reading the hurriedly scribbled note, Adam smiled to himself as he was told his orders for the day.
Please complete the accounts and then take it easy. Your old bones have been creaking so loudly over the past few days, they probably need the respite! Joe
**********
It was midday when Hoss finally arrived back at the Ponderosa. As he hung his hat on the hook fixed to the wall and undid his gun belt, he looked over towards his father’s desk where Adam was sat, head down, mulling over the final entries of the yearly accounts.
“Hi there, big brother,” said Adam, looking up and smiling as Hoss walked over. “How are you feeling now?”
Pulling up a chair in front of the desk, Hoss sat down then leaned back, gently rubbing his cheek. “Much better, Adam. Had that aching tooth out, but even though my mouth is a mite sore, I’ve got my appetite back! I’m so hungry I could even eat your cooking right now!”
“Well, you won’t need to do that,” replied Adam with a chuckle. “You’ve certainly timed it to perfection as Hop Sing is just about to serve lunch!” Closing the last ledger, Adam stretched out his arms behind his head and flexed his fingers, his task finally completed to his satisfaction. “We expected you back yesterday. You been trying to get out of all those chores Pa left us?” he teased.
Hoss shook his head as his stomach rumbled loudly. “Intended to come back yesterday, but Roy Coffee asked me a favor.”
Adam raised his eyebrow. “Roy? What did he want? Not been on a posse have you?”
Shaking his head Hoss stood up and headed towards the delicious aroma of potatoes and chicken, just deposited on the table by Hop Sing. “Nope, nothing like that. Seems there’s four troops of Union Cavalry making their way from Fort Bridger down towards New Mexico, complete with supply wagons. A sergeant was in town, wondering where they could camp for a couple of days to rest their horses and the men. Roy asked if they could stay on the Ponderosa, so I showed the Sergeant the meadow up on the north border. It’s empty of cattle at the moment, and there’s plenty of water, so I didn’t think there would be a problem.”
Adam pursed his lips and gave out a whistle. “Four Troops? That’s…near on 400 men! Something must be pretty important to send them away from the Indian territories. I wonder why they have come this far west? It would be a lot quicker going down to New Mexico through Colorado? Did the Sergeant say anything to you?”
“Not a lot. With this Civil War gaining ground, he wasn’t too sure what was going on himself. Just knew Fort Bridger was being abandoned for a while and they were headed for Fort Union. Seems there’s been rumors the Confederacy are heading towards Denver so maybe that’s why they are keeping as far west as they can…didn’t want to end up clashing with a regiment of ‘ornery southerners!”
Adam shook his head, despairing of the war that started months before, many miles away, and was now pitting father against son, brother against brother….
He thought back to just over a year, when Frederick Kyle, a Confederate sympathizer, had appeared in Virginia City, drumming up support for the Southern cause. Both Adam and Joe had argued bitterly, Joe drawn to the southern states because of his mother’s Louisiana blood, and Adam towards his New England heritage. He shuddered to think how close he had come that time to leaving the Ponderosa and all he held dear rather than let his little brother become an enemy within a house divided. Luckily for them all, common sense had prevailed and he had stayed, his brother apologizing, the family bond remaining strong and unyielding.
Hoss could see Adam was miles away, his face dark and serious. “It was okay, wasn’t it, Adam? Letting the Army use our land?”
Shaken from his reverie Adam nodded his head. “Of course it was. Did you stay at the Army camp overnight?”
“No, Miller…the Sergeant, told me his battalion were about 6 hours behind. He was a real nice fella…kind of reminded me of Pa somehow. Anyhow, he returned to guide them to the north meadow, and by the time I got back to Virginia City, it was dark so I stayed over another night.”
“That’s fine, Hoss. But do be sure to check with the boss tomorrow, fill him in with the details.”
“What? Pa isn’t coming back a day early is he?” asked a bemused Hoss, as he sat down at the dining table and gleefully began scooping food onto his plate.
“No he isn’t. But Joe will be!”
“Joe? You got me darn confused, Adam. What’s Joe got to do with it? And where is he, by the way? You two haven’t been fighting again have you? Not got him doing all those chores on his own?” Hoss gave his brother a wary look out of the corner of his eye as he placed a portion of meat into his mouth.
“I made a little change in the arrangements, Hoss,” replied Adam. “Joe has been dishing out the orders. He decided to stay over at the east meadow till tomorrow, which makes good sense too, saving a lot of time going back and forth. Our little brother has certainly been a revelation these past couple of days.”
“So Joe volunteered himself to stay out all night?” asked Hoss incredulously, chewing with ease for the first time in days.
“He sure did. Even ordered me to stay here all day, seeing as most of the chores have now been done.”
With a splutter of surprise, Hoss looked over at Adam in disbelief. “What? Nearly all of them chores is done? If I’d known the two of you could manage that well, I would of stayed away a while longer!”
Adam gave a laugh while helping himself to a portion of potatoes, but as he tucked into his meal his mind wandered, a frown appearing as he thought of all the young Union men now riding towards…who knows what? He shuddered involuntarily, inwardly relieved that this violent and catastrophic civil war had so far left him and his family untouched. But for how long, he wondered…how long?
***********
Two days later, sitting on the buckboard on the main street of Virginia City, a slightly worried looking Adam Cartwright awaited the mid-morning stage from Sacramento. His father was due at any minute and Adam tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his knee as he awaited his arrival, not looking forward to the news he would have to give him. On time, the stage duly pulled in and Ben dismounted, catching his bag thrown down from the roof by the driver.
“Hi, Pa. Good to have you back,” said Adam as he walked up to his father, giving him a welcoming smile as he took the bag from his hand.
Feeling tired from the long journey, Ben looked over wearily. “Good to be back, son,” he said. “That journey seems to get longer and longer every year.”
Climbing onto the buckboard, Adam expertly maneuvered the single horse through the busy thoroughfare of the main street and slowly made his way out of town, both men sitting in silence.
“Everything all right, son?” asked Ben finally as he glanced over, Adam’s face looking more serious than usual.
Shaking his head, Adam pursed his lips. “I don’t really know, Pa. I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation, but at the moment we seem to have lost Joe!”
Ben’s eyes widened. “You’ve lost Joseph? What on earth has he been up to now? Can’t I leave that young man for five days without him causing some sort of havoc around the Ponderosa?”
“No Pa, you don’t understand. Joe has been working real hard and went up to do those chores at the east meadow, even offering to stay overnight rather than come back and go again the next morning. He should of finished yesterday afternoon, at the latest…but he didn’t come home so Hoss left after breakfast to see if there’s any sign of him.”
“Knowing your brother, he has probably sloped off and made his way to one of the saloons in Carson City for the night. He wouldn’t dare come to Virginia City knowing I was arriving back today.”
Adam tightened his lips. “Normally I would have agreed Pa, but not this time.”
Ben sat in silence, his face covered with a deep frown. “Well, let’s see what Hoss has to report. But I bet your little brother will be sleeping soundly on the settee by the time we get home, just you see!” he said soundly, but his voice betrayed a feeling of unease he really felt.
Arriving back at the ranch, Chubb was tied to the hitching post when Ben and Adam pulled into the yard. As they alighted from the buggy, Hoss walked out and welcomed his father’s return with a quick shake of the hand, knowing by the look on his face he was aware of the situation. Adam threw him a questioning look which Hoss caught immediately.
“No Adam! No sign! Found where he had been working, but the fence hadn’t been finished and there were a few posts scattered on the ground. Even the tools were still lying there…it just isn’t like Joe to leave a job unfinished and in such a mess.”
Making their way into the house, Ben sat down, his brow furrowed with worry. Bringing out a fresh pot of coffee from the kitchen, Adam poured out three cups and passed one over to his father, who accepted it gratefully.
As Hoss sat down on the settee, he suddenly put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Almost forgot…found this up there,” he said, passing it over to Adam who unfolded the scrunched up note, recognizing it immediately. Biting his lip nervously, Adam passed it over to his father who gave it a quick read.
“My list of chores? And all nearly done!” Ben said thoughtfully. “Not like Joe to throw this away though. He would have great satisfaction in showing me, just to prove what he had completed.”
“What shall we do, Pa?” asked Hoss finally, more than grateful their father was now back to take charge.
Ben looked over at Adam. “You sure Joe gave no indication he was going to do another job…visit someone?”
Adam shook his head. “No Pa. Just said he was going to the east meadow, nowhere else.”
Taking a deep breath, Ben stood up and looked down at his sons. “Hoss, would you go and saddle up Buck for me please? Once I’ve changed out of these clothes, we had better go out and look for your brother.”
“Sure thing, Pa,” said Hoss as he rose from the chair. “Any thoughts where we are going to start?”
Ben shook his head. “I was hoping you boys would give me some ideas,” he answered as he slowly made his way up the stairs.
Hoss gave Adam a worried look, raising his eyebrows, then walked out to the barn, leaving his elder brother sitting alone wondering what could have happened to his youngest sibling in such a short time.
It was early afternoon when the three Cartwrights finally arrived at Joe’s last known place of work. Hoss dismounted and passed Chubb’s reins over to Adam, then began to look keenly around, studying the dry ground as his father and brother watched intently. Hoss was undoubtedly the best man suited to tracking anything that moved on the Ponderosa, and his perseverance paid off when he suddenly let out a yell and pointed down to the floor.
“Looks like the wagon went due east, Pa. I recognize that chipped shoe on one of those two horses pulling that wagon.”
“East? Why would he go east? Nothing that way except that newly built Overland Stage relay station fifteen miles away!” said Adam puzzled as Hoss remounted and the three men sat, totally perplexed and unable to hide their unease.
“Well boys….if that’s the way he went, we had better follow. I just hope this isn’t a wild goose chase your brother is leading us on! ‘Cause if it is…heaven help him!” said Ben as he gathered up his reins and urged Buck forward, his two sons following as they glanced at each other with trepidation.
For an hour they rode at a steady pace due east, finally arriving at their destination in the middle of the afternoon. The relay station comprised of a small stone built house that stood alone, its walls freshly white washed, and in a garden around the back a varied amount of healthy vegetables could be seen growing. A large barn was connected to a corral in which a dozen horses were enclosed, and they looked over in unison as the three men came into view and pulled up in front of a well built wooden verandah. Wearily they dismounted, stretching their backs and legs that ached from the long unscheduled ride that day.
The front door opened and a young man in his early thirties appeared, smiling cautiously at his visitors. Fredrik Larsson, his wife Mathilda, and five year old son Johan, had only arrived a few months before from their Swedish homeland, readily accepting the tenancy of the newly built relay station, and eager to begin a new life for themselves in their adopted country.
“Hello! How may I help you?” Fredrik asked in a strong Scandinavian accent.
“Good afternoon,” answered Ben with a slight smile, Fredrik’s accent stirring fond memories of his second wife Inger. “We are looking for someone, a young man…he may have come this way within the last couple of days? Probably driving a two horse wagon?”
Fredrik nodded and gave a smile. “Oh yes. Joe!” he answered, noticing a look of relief that flittered across Ben’s face.
“Joe?” echoed Adam.
“Yes Joe. Joe...erm, Cartfield…no... Cartwright. That’s right, Joe Cartwright! I remember him well.”
“When was he here?” queried Adam, the tone of his voice carrying a slight edge of impatience.
“He arrived early yesterday morning, looking a little tired, but said Lady Fortune must have blessed and guided him to our stagecoach station during the night. We gave him breakfast and when we told him the next stage east was due in within the hour, he asked if I wanted to buy his horses and wagon,” answered Fredrik, noticing the looks of confusion that passed between the three men.
“He wanted to sell them?” asked Adam bewildered. “Why?”
“He told me it was the chance he waited for. I wasn’t too keen, but my wife persuaded me, so I paid him, erm….cash on the nose? Is that how you say it?” he asked in faltering English. “I gave him good price! I did not cheat him,” he cried in alarm as he stared at Adam’s icy and skeptical expression.
“Did he say why he was going east?” Hoss asked frowning, his expression serious as he looked over at his father’s shocked face.
“He said he wanted to get away….no more taking…erm…orders. Yes…orders! He say he wants better life, far away, never going to return.” An uncomfortable silence settled, Fredrik totally confused by the looks of utter disbelief and distress etched on the faces in front of him.
Suddenly a female figure could be seen peering through the doorway, her pretty face looking nervously at the visitors as she called over to her husband.
“Vad vill de? Jag vill inte ha några problem,”
Fredrik viewed his wife then turned back to Ben. “My wife is a little nervous. She wonders what you want. She is still unused to this country and doesn’t want any trouble.”
“Please tell her we mean no harm,” said Ben quietly as he forced out a reassuring smile, though inwardly his heart was breaking.
Frederik nodded, his strange words spilling out quickly, “Sch. Det är inget att vara rädd för. De vill bara veta vem som sålde den nya kärran och hästen till oss.”
“I have told her you are just asking who sold us the wagon and horses and she has nothing to worry about.”
With a faint glimmer of a smile, Mathilda closed the door, leaving the four men to continue their conversation as the sound of a small child could be heard laughing inside the house.
Adam pressed on. “This man…Joe…who sold you the wagon, could you describe him?”
“Of course! Joe was a very good looking young man, dark curly hair, green colored eyes. He was forever smiling and seemed very happy he was able to catch a stage so quickly, making my little boy laugh, even though they could not understand each other very well. My wife felt sorry for him when he told how his mother had died when he was about the same age as our Johan.”
Adam glanced at his father and brother as he felt a sob crawl up into his throat. “Did he wear a firearm?”
Fredrik looked at Adam and shrugged, not understanding the English. “Firearm?” he echoed.
“Yes, gun…like this,” said Adam impatiently, pointing to his right hip where his colt lay nestled within its holster.
“Ah! Now I understand. Yes he has firearm…but on other side,” replied Fredrik as he tapped his left leg. Adam visibly paled at further confirmation of the man’s identity.
“Please, wait here a moment,” Fredrik requested suddenly, disappearing through the front door. Moments later he reappeared, a green jacket folded over his arm. “The young man…Joe, he left this behind. Do you recognize it?”
Ben staggered slightly with shock as he viewed the garment. “Joseph...why?” he muttered, and as his legs nearly buckled under him. Hoss leapt forward, gently guiding his father to a bench on the verandah. Fredrik gazed at them sympathetically as Adam took hold of the familiar piece of clothing, holding it close to his chest.
“This man…Joe…he is kin to you?” Fredrik asked finally.
Adam nodded over. “He is kin,” he answered simply, fighting hard to control the tears he felt forming in the back of his eyes.
“Are we
following Joe?” asked a distraught Hoss to his father as Ben stared down the
road, the tracks of the stage coach clearly visible on the dusty surface.
Taking a deep breath and pursing his lips tight Ben stood up and walked to his horse, shaking his head. “No son. We’re going home,” he answered sadly, dragging himself into the saddle.
With heavy hearts, the three Cartwrights turned their horses back towards the Ponderosa, hardly believing, and unwillingly accepting the son and brother they loved so deeply had deserted them in such a malicious and cruel manner.
**********
The day had passed quickly for Joe when he eventually arrived at the east meadow. Straightaway he could see the extensive gap in the fencing and he had inwardly groaned. This was much more than he had expected but no way was he going to let himself down in front of the family now.
All day he toiled, digging out the old broken posts, resetting the new, replacing broken wooden slats between. It was a repetitive and back breaking task, made worse by the heat of the day and the hardness of the ground. Stripped to the waist, the sweat poured off him as he continued, hardly drawing breath and oblivious to all his surroundings.
As the afternoon drew to a close, away to his left and hidden within a copse of trees, a pair of eyes followed Joe, watching intently his every move for many minutes. The young cavalry soldier had been sent with two other troopers by their sergeant to hunt for extra meat to sustain their meager rations while on the long haul south. The three men had parted company for a while to hunt alone and it was while he rested with half a dozen dead jack rabbits draped behind his saddle, the young Union trooper first spotted Joe.
This soldier was a disillusioned young man who had run away from his small, sparse and barely profitable ranch in Wyoming at the age of sixteen, leaving behind a father who neither cared for nor loved his only son. With the death of his mother at the age of five, he grew up to become rebellious, devious and with a volatile temper. A temper that eventually caused such bitter arguments with his father that when he finally left, the young man vowed he would never return.
Taking work where he could find it, he survived for a few years until he finally turned up at Fort Bridger and decided to enlist. After all, the Army offered regular pay, three meals a day and company at night to play poker, his winning streak the cause of many sideward glances between his fellow troopers. But knowing how his temper could explode at a whim, no one ever questioned the suspicious run of good luck of the dark, curly haired young man, with the sparkling green eyes and handsome smile.
However his mundane, boring and safe life at the fort that he accepted happily eventually came to an end. He had enlisted in peacetime but now the Union Army was at war with the Southern Confederacy and he was marching many miles to certain conflict. It was not a prospect he relished. Gambling in the saloons of the ever-growing towns of the west was much more inviting than fighting for a cause he neither understood nor cared for so he continually looked for a way out of his predicament.
Today his prayer would be answered!
While hidden among the heavily leaved trees, he soon noticed something about this stranger who toiled continually in the late summer sun that made his eyes open with astonishment and amazement. Hardly able to believe his luck, a plan began to formulate within his head, his keen mind willing to grasp this god-given opportunity with both hands. Now he could take his leave of the Army and no one would ever realize the truth! Yes! he mused, it could work….it must work!
As the afternoon came to an end and the bright sun began to slip towards the western horizon, the young trooper made his move. He could see Joe was working alone, so dismounting he walked his horse slowly towards the young Cartwright as Joe stood by the wagon, about to take a drink of refreshing water from the cask in the back. Joe heard the approaching sound of hooves on the hard ground and he swung round, his left hand gripping the handle of his Colt .45. However with the sun low in the west Joe was dazzled and unable to make out the distinctive features of the man, but he recognized the Cavalry uniform and the Army bridle on the bay horse so he relaxed his hand as his visitor came to a stop.
“Howdy soldier,” he said, as he ran his fingers through his curly hair. “What brings you to these parts?”
Partly hidden by his horse’s neck, his hat pulled down over his face, the trooper answered quietly. “Been hunting extra game for my unit. Could I have a swig of your water? Seems I have run dry.”
“Sure,” replied Joe. “I’m Joe Cartwright, by the way. You camped far from here?” he asked as he turned his back on his companion and reached for a large ladle. However, before Joe had even turned halfway around, a raised hand cracked him behind the ear with a gun butt, causing him to stagger forward. Then another savage blow on his forehead sent him backwards, plunging him deep into blackness, and far out of the reach of pain as he hit the ground with a resounding thump.
Quickly and without remorse, the trooper went about his plan, the savage blows clearly the attack of a man determined to kill his victim. Stripping down both himself and Joe, he pulled on Joe’s pants and put on the shirt that lay on top of the wagon. He even put on Joe’s boots, which miraculously fitted perfectly. His only problem was the gun belt which favored a left hander but that was a minor inconvenience he mused. Then he dressed Joe in his Cavalry uniform. It was not an easy task as the unconscious figure lay as a dead weight, but the trooper persevered, and soon Joe was in Army regulation dark blue shirt, light blue trousers, gun belt and gun, everything fitting like a glove.
Angus Borden looked down, still not quite believing what he saw. It was as if he looked in a mirror, for never would he have believed there was another who could look as identical to him as the man lying on the ground. The Lord has been truly kind this day, Angus thought, his true wicked personality now emerging. “Thank you, Joe Cartwright,” he said with a sneering grin, giving a quick salute to the corpse-like figure.
Bending down, he picked up a green jacket and looked through the pockets finding a small wallet containing forty dollars, a small fortune to the young man, and a piece of paper which he unfolded and read quickly. It seemed to be a list of chores, most of which had a pencil line through them, and being of no interest, he screwed it up and threw it onto the floor. Placing the wallet in his shirt pocket, he then flung the jacket over the seat and climbed onto the wagon, moving off without a backward glance, Angus Borden making his quick escape towards the east and the beckoning life of a hard drinking and dubiously honest card sharp.
A half hour later, as Joe lay unconscious, two troopers appeared in the clearing, freshly killed deer and rabbits hanging from their saddles. They noticed the figure motionless on the floor and rushed over towards their fallen comrade, immediately seeing the bruised forehead and flowing blood from the wound on the back of his head. Assuming Joe had been flung then kicked by his horse which now grazed contentedly feet away, they carefully lifted him up, one man holding Joe tightly as they rode while the other grabbed his horse and they made their way back to the north meadow campsite, neither man aware their comrade was Joe Cartwright rancher’s son and not Angus Borden, Union Cavalry soldier.
Hastily the troopers took the unconscious Joe to Captain John Roberts, chief surgeon and medical officer, who immediately took charge. His new patient was placed gently onto a mattress inside one of the hospital wagons, and the two troopers returned to report to their Troop Sergeant and deliver the assortment of meat successfully hunted over the past hours.
The cut on the back of Joe’s head was deep, his thick hair cushioning the blow and probably saving him from instant death. Blood flowed for a while as the doctor gently bathed and cleaned the wound, but eventually it stopped as a bandage was wrapped around his head. After an hour, with a damp and cool cloth on his forehead, Joe slowly began to moan and regain consciousness, his eyes eventually opening as he viewed with blurred vision the unfamiliar face that looked at him.
Looking wildly around him, panic filled his eyes as he tried to rise up. “Take it easy, trooper,” said Captain Roberts firmly. “You’ve just had a lucky escape. Looks like your horse kicked you on the head a couple of times but nothing else seems broken.
Another half inch deeper and I reckon we would have been burying you tonight!”
The strong hands of the doctor gently pushed his patient’s shoulders back down onto the mattress as a feeling of nausea swept over Joe and he fought hard to keep from retching, his face growing pale. With a well practiced eye, the Captain passed over a bowl and placed it by Joe’s head. “You feeling sick?” he asked. Joe nodded and then promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into the container. Quickly whisking it to one side, Roberts handed over a mug of water, leaving Joe to swill the liquid around and displace the sickly taste left in his mouth.
“Feel better now?” asked Roberts, replacing a wet cloth on Joe’s forehead.
With all energy gone, Joe sunk down onto the mattress and nodded, watching as Roberts shouted out for an orderly who duly appeared and removed the unpleasant smelling basin.
“Who are you…where am I?” asked Joe finally in a weak voice.
The doctor frowned and looked deeply into his patients eyes. “Looks like you got a touch of concussion…don’t you recognize me or where you are?”
Joe looked blankly and shook his head.
“What about an easy question then….what’s your name?”
Again Joe stared, wide eyed and fearful, shaking his head. “I can’t...remember. I can’t remember anything?” he stated as the curtain at the back of the wagon suddenly opened and a face peered through. Grey haired and in his middle forties with penetrating brown eyes, the veteran Sergeant of many years service looked into the gloom of the wagon.
“Ah Sergeant! This is one of your troopers, I presume?” asked the Captain as Sergeant Thomas Miller looked over at Joe.
“Sure is, Sir. Is he badly hurt?”
The doctor shook his head, but still cast a worried glance over to the Sergeant. “Nothing broken, but has concussion and a touch of amnesia. Can’t remember who or where he is?”
Although he had only been posted to Fort Bridger a few weeks before, Miller had made a point of learning every name of the one hundred troopers under his control. He recognized the face in front of him, recalling the trooper’s undeniable reputation as an excellent poker player, but knew little else about his personality.
“Well, I can help him there,” responded Sergeant Miller, staring over at the young man who was watching him with an uneasy expression on his face. “Your name is Angus Borden and you are in D Troop.”
Puzzled, Joe looked down at the deep blue shirt and blue pants he wore, and felt the yellow necktie tied around his throat. “I...I’m in the Army then?” asked Joe as sweat began to pour down his face. “I’m in the Army, but I don’t remember anything about it? Don’t even recognize my own name. What do I do now?” his openly frightened gaze shifting between the Medical Officer and the Troop Sergeant.
“Well, for a start you are going to lie here for a couple of days to make sure there are no other side effects,” replied Roberts as he looked over towards the man by the back curtain. “When you are recovered to my satisfaction, you can then rejoin your Troop and the sergeant here. He will soon show you the ropes!”
“So he won’t be fit enough to ride when we break camp tomorrow?” asked Miller, truly concerned for the young man under his command.
“Definitely not! He will be staying in the hospital wagon for a few days yet.”
Miller nodded over in agreement. “You get some rest then, Borden. I will come and check up on you again in the morning.”
Joe nodded, visibly relaxing at the deep booming kindly voice of the sergeant but not quite knowing why. He managed a weak smile. “Thanks…erm...Sergeant,” he said as Miller closed the curtain and left, leaving Joe to lean back on the mattress. Gratefully sipping another mug of water offered by the Captain, Joe fought hard to recall anything…something…but to no avail…his past life was just lost in a deep dark void.
After a fitful sleep during the cool Nevada night, Joe was awoken to loud cries and shouts as 400 men and horses awoke and prepared for breakfast before making ready to move off and continue the long trek towards the deserts and mountains of New Mexico.
As promised, Sergeant Miller arrived early to check on his injured trooper, and looking in on the young man saw Joe was awake and eating a small portion of milk and oatmeal. “Looks like you got some color in your cheeks,” he said, giving Joe a friendly and encouraging smile. “Remembered anything?”
Joe shook his head as he put down the emptied bowl on the floor of the wagon. He rubbed his bruised forehead gently and slumped deep into his pillow. “Tried and tried but nothing comes to mind. The Captain told me I might get my memory back anytime so I guess I will just have to be patient.”
Miller nodded. “Just you try and rest and get your strength back. Isn’t going to be easy in this wagon, I grant you! Bet you feel every wheel rut in Nevada!” he said chuckling as Joe also smiled back sharing the humor of the moment. “Anyway I had better get back to the rest of my troop. We’re due to break camp in five minutes and my Lieutenant is fussing around like a man possessed!” he said laughing loudly.
As he turned to leave, Joe called out, a question tugging at him. “Hey, Sergeant. What do I do when I am well enough to return to duty?”
The old sergeant looked back into the wagon and grinned, warming to the sparkling green eyes that looked at him. “Well Borden, then you get to play soldiers!”
**********
For the next few days as his head ached and dizzy spells persisted, Joe lay back on the mattress feeling every bump and groove in the well-traveled road. The long column of cavalry horses and men, complete with hospital and supply wagons slowly made their way through Nevada, and from his sick bed, Joe failed to notice the once familiar towering mountains of the Sierra Nevada disappear from sight, as hour by hour the distance between him and the Ponderosa grew.
Finally, after five days, Joe was well enough to rejoin his troop. Relieved to at last leave the confines of the hospital wagon, he welcomed happily Sergeant Miller who took it upon himself to assist the young trooper whose amnesia had left him a little traumatized, unsure of his surroundings and the people around him. As he instructed him at every opportunity on all aspects of the Cavalry Trooper’s way of life, Joe absorbed the information greedily, soon became familiar and comfortable with his new routine, obeying orders sent his way without a second thought. The days passed by quickly and he found himself enjoying the hard ways of the Army; it soon becoming apparent to all who had known him, a new and better Angus Borden had emerged since his accident, his fellow troopers and officers warming to him as never before.
Details of his past filtered through during late evening conversations with his new found friends, and he learned of his sad and miserable childhood on a small ranch in Wyoming. His memory failed to return as Captain Roberts had indicated, but with so much to do and think about, he adapted with what he knew and compensated for his lack of knowledge by improvising, usually successfully.
However one puzzle caused him minor irritation. Wearing a right handed Army regulation firearm, he felt comfortable when his Army pistol was in his left hand, and often commented to Sergeant Miller he felt sure he should have a left handed holster. Miller had just laughed it off, telling him he had been wearing a right handed holster ever since joining the Army. With no plausible explanation offered, Joe eventually stopped mentioning it, but even the Sergeant failed to understand why Joe now wrote with his left hand instead of the right.
Day followed day, Joe accepting his new life as Angus Borden, Union Cavalry soldier without a thought. Onward the long Army column trekked, past the snow capped mountains of Nevada, the arid deserts of Arizona and onto New Mexico, finally arriving in late December at Fort Union, their presence causing much celebration amongst those already stationed at the territorial outpost. This garrison and arsenal was an important link for the supply of everything required by the military in the south west. Over the years it had constantly repelled Indian raids, winning fame and becoming known as the Guardian of the Santa Fe Trail. However, with the Civil War gaining support amongst the states and territories of the south, its importance became more acute.
The start of 1862 saw Joe and his fellow troopers settling into their cramped quarters, but even the three-tier bunk beds with straw mattresses provided undeniable comfort after the weeks on the trail. Early reveille, care and feeding of their horses, and guard duty around the fort filled their days, along with patrols throughout the area, ever watchful for rogue Indian raiders, but more alert for the grey-shirted army threatening to arrive at any time. Sergeant Miller continued to keep a watchful eye on Joe, admiring his dexterity and his ability to relearn so much in such a short time, his loss of memory all those months ago now hardly mentioned between them.
February arrived and unsettling reports and rumors began to filter around the fort about the impending arrival of enemy forces. General Sibley had entered New Mexico with a brigade of Texan men, easily defeating Union forces based at Albuquerque and Santa Fe. Now his hungry eyes had settled on the Colorado gold fields, their reserves needed badly by the Southern States in an attempt to fund the ever growing confrontation with the North.
With the Confederate force drawing nearer and nearer, the men of Fort Union waited anxiously. This was to be the first time many of the troopers would be engaged in battle against their fellow Americans, and with mixed feelings of nervousness, fear and excitement they wondered how long before they too would be drawn into their first conflict of the Civil War.
Then, on one chilly March morning, a squad of Colorado volunteers sympathetic to the Union arrived, commanded by a man named Chivington. Days before, they had ambushed part of the Confederate force at Apache Canyon, sending them into retreat, but they knew another even bloodier confrontation was imminent, so they arrived to join forces with the Union soldiers of the fort. Quickly the men were assembled and ordered into battle, the units of troopers following the Chivington irregulars to where the main section of Texan troops were assembled, Glorietta Pass.
Under the cover of darkness, the Union army arrived, digging in quickly half a mile away from the Confederate army, the two forces of artillery and riflemen eyeing each other as the sun slowly arose in the cold of the early New Mexico morning.
Two troops of Union cavalry sat on their horses, either side of the long line of riflemen, and as dawn finally broke, the bugle sounded charge, and the battle began. It was in truth a hopeless frontal assault, but it was a tactic used in years gone by, and still put into futile practice. The horses jumped forward, Joe amongst them, as they rode toward and then through the enemy lines, galloping in a huge circle to the rear of the enemy and reemerged down the opposite side and returning to the Union position.
It was a bloody, fierce and confusing confrontation as Joe and his fellow troopers charged into the midst of Confederate troops, bayonets drawn, bullets flying in every direction. Exposed to gun fire from the offset, the carnage was predictable and inevitable as the melee of men and horseflesh crashed through the defenses, Union horses killed and their riders butchered where they fell.
Joe weaved his horse into the thick of the mayhem, pulling out his gun and shooting as he galloped on, turning in a long circle behind and making his way back towards the comparative safety of his own artillery. To his left, he suddenly saw Sergeant Miller fall to the floor, his horse shot from under him. As Miller stood, shooting anything in grey that moved, Joe pulled his horse around, returning to the Sergeant and grabbing Miller by the shirt; the Sergeant pulled up behind Joe as he kicked his horse on and back to the Union line and safety.
The whole operation had taken barely 5 minutes from start to finish, and as Joe pulled up, Miller slid down and gave him a grateful look of thanks. The two men took hold of their rifles and made their way to the front line, laying on the dirt ground their firearms at the ready.
Then a new onslaught began between the two opposing forces, as rifle and artillery fire was exchanged between the two camps. And so it continued, hour after hour, until darkness drew in, and an uneasy silence suddenly swept down over the corpse strewn battle field. The first day of fighting proved bloody and inconclusive, as did the days that followed, the resulting stalemate causing untold misery, and the cost to human life immense.
Wishing to end the bloody conflict, a small number of Chivington’s irregulars were sent to scale down the cliff behind the enemy and destroy the supply wagons of Sibley’s Texas Brigade. It was a hazardous and dangerous task, but by dawn, the supply wagons had been wired with explosives and blown up, leaving the Confederate Texans without food, ammunition and medical supplies. Knowing the battle was therefore lost, the Texan forces fell back and retreated, leaving the remaining Union force to return to Fort Union victorious.
In later years, this engagement would be known as the ‘Gettysburg of the West’, but to Joe and the surviving members of Fort Union, it was just a bloody, savage and noisy carnage. Sergeant Miller stood with Joe as he steeled himself to view the casualties, his experienced eyes used to the sight of death over the years, though it still shocked and sickened him.
As they viewed the bodies from both sides, the sight of the bullet riddled men and horses caused Joe to retch uncontrollably. Eventually he stopped and looked over at his Sergeant with tear filled eyes. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this life after all. So much death….was it necessary?” he asked, the anguish in his voice clear.
Miller shook his head sadly. “This is war, Borden...war! It’s what playing soldiers is all about!”
*************
As the weeks went by, the soldiers of Fort Union began to recover from the shock of the ordeal they had survived. The butchery and killing haunted Joe, giving him nightmares, but he accepted it was just part of a soldier’s life. He wondered how many men he had killed, how close had he come to dying as he heard the whistle of bullets shooting around him during the battle. Talking with his comrades, he realized he was not alone with his thoughts; all the men just grateful they had survived…this time. With the threat of Confederate attack now long gone, Army life became boring and monotonous, and even Joe began to hanker occasionally for the challenge of battle again, if only to escape the mundane life they now led.
As the month of June arrived, Joe was called over to talk with Sergeant Miller one morning and was greeted with a smile when the Sergeant placed something in his hand. Joe looked down, his eyes widening with surprise. “What’s this?” he asked, bemused as he viewed the cloth in his hand.
“Those are your Corporal’s stripes…..Corporal!” Miller said, grinning widely.
“Corporal? I’ve been promoted?” asked Joe, as a wide grin appeared on his face.
Nodding, Miller slapped Joe on the back. “Congratulations, you deserve it,” he said honestly, proud and grateful of the young man who had proved his worth tenfold and saved his life. “Now, go get them sewn on. I have a lot to organize and need you to help me…our brigade has been posted away from here!”
Joe looked over in surprise. “Posted? Where to?”
“Seems as the Confederate threat is now gone from these parts, we are being sent to Fort Laramie. Looks like your going home Borden…back to Wyoming!”
A deep frown suddenly appeared on Joe’s face. “Wyoming? Still can’t remember anything about the place, Sergeant.”
“Well, I looked up your records. Seems you came from a place a day’s ride from the fort. You could go meet your Pa…maybe seeing him would jolt that memory of yours at long last?”
Shaking his head sadly, Joe bit his lip nervously. “From what I was told, we didn’t part on good terms. He probably won’t want to see me again.”
Miller saw the forlorn look and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Once we get there and settle in, I’ll arrange a pass for a couple of days with the Commanding Officer, and the pair of us will go and see your Pa. You want to do that?”
“I suppose so. You wouldn’t mind tagging along…just for my sake?” asked Joe gratefully.
“I owe you my life…Corporal. It’s the least I can do.”
Taking a deep breath Joe nodded over. “Thanks, Sergeant. It’s going to be pretty nerve wracking, meeting him again, but I suppose I need to try anything if it means I might get my memory back.”
With a light step Joe returned to his barracks with the treasured stripes, gleefully sewing them on to the amusement of his fellow troopers. Joe Cartwright, rancher’s son, oblivious to his true past, was now Corporal Angus Borden, well liked and trusted by all who knew him.
**********
The journey from New Mexico to Wyoming was to pass uneventfully for the troops and wagons, as they headed towards Fort Laramie in late June. With the Confederate threat now dissipated somewhat in the west, they headed due north through Colorado, cutting weeks off their original journey south. Corporal Borden settled into his new role with ease, obeyed without question by the troops now under his command and trusted by those officers above him.