(Authors note: I worked all summer on this, and it’s epic long. I hope you’ll take the time to climb in this story. And I hope to hear what you thought.)
The mood in the Bucket of Blood was rowdy. Some of it undoubtedly had to do with the fact that it was New Year’s Eve. Men were doing their best to ring in the year with every bit of rotgut whiskey and beer they could get their hands on. Still it wasn’t just merriment that filled the air. There was a tension, almost a desperation to the celebration. Bosom buddies were hugging one minute, and hauling off a right hook to the eye the next. Every table was full, and the saloon girls had long since backed off as it wasn’t exactly safe in the midst of all that male energy.
Joshua Chamberlain surveyed all of this from the door. It was what he’d always imagined the West would be all those years ago when he first started sneaking the magazine serials depicting cowboys and Indians fighting on the Plains. It certainly didn’t do for the head of the English department at Bowdoin College to be reading magazine serials, but all of that was behind him now. Two years in the Union army saw to that, and now instead of lecturing students, he was standing in the doorway of a saloon watching real cowboys drinking and talking and smelling everything like he’d always imagined.
A large fellow came weaving his direction. He all but fell onto Chamberlain, who grabbed him under his shoulders and pushed him back to his feet. The big man slapped him on his back and declared. “Look fellers, we have a new neighbor in town. He’s got on the Union blues.”
Some men raised their glasses and others looked at him with nothing but a cold stare.
The man kept an arm around Chamberlain’s shoulders. “I bet he came in with the general. And now he’s come to drink with us common folk. Ain’t that something?!”
A few cheers went up, but the rest of the men just turned their attention back to the drink in front of them. The man leaned into Chamberlain, and the sick, sour smell of whiskey wafted into Josh’s face. He tried to push the man off, but the cowboy hung on stubbornly. Annoyed, he pushed again, and the cowboy spun off in a neat circle and landed in a pile on the ground. Another cowboy jumped up from a table, “What you doing to my friend, Mister? He ain’t done nothing to you.”
Chamberlain reached over to help the cowboy up, but the scrapping of chairs being pushed back alerted him and he backed away. Three drunk men advanced on him. Chamberlain tried to remember where he saw the sheriff’s office, but he knew it was no good to run. As a Union soldier, it would destroy everything they were trying to do here. He planted his feet widely and crouched, waiting for the first man to throw a punch.
Then a man bigger than any other man he’d seen in a long time waded in between them. One feller threw a punch and this giant of a man took it on the jaw. He didn’t flinch and he didn’t hit him back. He grabbed the man’s arm before he could throw another. “Okay boys, that’s enough. This ain’t no way to treat a guest from the Union army.”
Another of the cowboys tried to circle around him, but the giant grabbed his collar and pulled him back. “I mean it, boys. That’s enough. You tangle with him and ya’ gotta tangle with me. What do ya’ say, boys?”
The cowboys shuffled their feet and looked away. One of them looked up, “Aw, Hoss. We was just funnin’. Didn’t mean nothing.”
The giant frowned at him. “Ain’t no way to treat a guest. It’d give him a bad taste of Virginia City. Reflects on the whole lot of us. That ain’t no good.”
“Sorry, Hoss.”
“Tell it to the soldier.”
The cowboys suddenly seemed sober, hats in hand. “Sorry, Officer.”
“Go on now.” The big man shooed them away. “Tell Cosmo ya’ got a beer coming on my tab.”
Chamberlain stepped up and held out a hand. “I’m much obliged, cowboy.”
He gave a low chuckle. “Name’s Eric Cartwright. Folks call me Hoss.”
“Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Chamberlain at your service.”
“Why aren’t ya’ at the big doings over at the town hall?”
“Needed a break from all of those speeches.”
“Your General Peeler had quite a bit of news, didn’t he?”
“And what’s keeping you away from the town hall?”
Hoss sighed. “I’m going to have another beer. Can I buy you one, soldier?”
Chamberlain followed Hoss who waded through the masses and got two beers without waiting. Men just naturally parted for the big man, but Chamberlain felt none of the resentment that comes along being an intimidating force. Men seemed to part easy, and more than one hand slapped Hoss on the back and called him friend. Hoss grabbed the beers, and led Chamberlain to the back of the room where he was sitting at a corner table. It was dim in this part of the bar, and somehow didn’t seem the right place for the affable young man.
The two men settled in, and Chamberlain got his first taste of what passed for beer in the west. He winced, but held it well. Everything out west was rough, even the brew.
Hoss took a long draw off his drink and put it down. “I reckon you weren’t actually at Fredericksburg. You wouldn’t have gotten out here so quick if ya’ had.”
Chamberlain nodded. “I was in St. Louis with the general at the time.”
“17,000 men in one day; that’s like the whole Nevada territory - men, women, children, white and Indian. Do you really believe all that could happen in one day?”
“It did. Hoss, this war is like no other. I have seen dead men littered on a battleground so thick, I couldn’t find grass.”
“It sort of seems like the end of world.”
Chamberlain smiled softly. “That’s about what it feels like when you’re there.”
“The President’s really going to sign this Emancipation Proclamation?”
“At the stroke of midnight, he will. And all slaves will be one step closer to freedom.”
“We really stayed out of the mix out here. I guess it’s such a hard life sometimes that we sort of felt like we weren’t obliged to be part of the problems out east.”
“I know. President Lincoln grew up in Illinois when it was as backwater as this place. He knows what its like and he understands. But he needs the West now. This thing is too big now, and it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
“The General claims he’s only asking for one son from each home. What’s he going to do if more than one son wants to go?”
“The General made the Territorial Governor a promise. He understands how important it is to tame this land, and he doesn’t intend to paralyze progress by taking too many. He’ll honor his word.”
“What a thing this is. A man leaves his family to fight to the death. Nobody at home sleeps until he’s home again or in a grave.” Hoss let out a deep breath. “War is a terrible thing.”
Josh Chamberlain nodded. “It amazes me, Hoss. Men will celebrate going to war. They will deem it their right, their privilege, and they march off as if to an adventure. And we’ll all say it’s God’s will.”
Hoss looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t sound like an army man.”
“I’m not. I was an English professor. I have no illusions. I’ve been in this fight for over a year. There is nothing noble about leading boys and good men to their death facing other boys, other good men. And at the heart of it all, there are men who will never see a battlefield and these men decide how many of our soldiers will die.”
Hoss wrinkled his brow. “You’re not a Lincoln man?”
“Oh, make no mistake. I left my professorship for that man, and I will follow him through the gates of Hell if necessary.”
Hoss pushed the brim of his hat back. “I got a good feeling about him too, and I guess this emancipation thing seals it. No one can tell me God wants one man to own another. Lincoln’s willing to stand up and fight for those poor people. I gotta’ figure he’s on the side of the angels.”
“You’re a wise man, Hoss Cartwright.”
Hoss shook his head. An outburst interrupted his thought. Four cowboys were rolling around in the middle of the room. Hoss jumped up and charged through a wall of men. Those who could darted out of his way, the others were pushed. He dived into the middle of the pile, and came up with a cowboy in each hand. The crowd dispersed in the face of it. In the wake stood a very large man with a cowboy in each hand. Josh Chamberlain cocked his head, and regarded the spectacle with interest. The men didn’t struggle; they just grabbed their hats and shuffled back to the bar.
Lieutenant Colonel Chamberlain signaled the barmaid for another two beers, and then sat down and waited for his new friend. Two years in the army had taught him more than he needed to know about men and what temperament worked best in the military, and this big fella’ was beginning to look as valuable as a gleaming gold nugget.
***********
Ben Cartwright had trouble swallowing his breakfast. A numbness had settled in him, and he ate slowly, distracted. Around him were raised voices but he was only faintly aware of their conversation. Imagining the carnage of 17,000 dead men in a Virginia meadow in one single day was only the prelude to the shock of realizing that he was about to lose a son to this monstrous conflict.
Ben was a strong man with a commanding presence. It wasn’t very often that he felt out of control, but General Peeler’s speech and the meeting that followed had cemented a panic in his gut. The only relief was in the knowledge that Peeler was only going to take one boy from each family. Ben looked at his three sons sitting around him, and wondered if they would all ever be together again.
“Pa!” His youngest broke his reverie. “The fact that he’s the oldest can’t matter this time. The stakes are too high. I gotta’ right to fight for this country just the same as he does.”
Ben blinked and looked down at his breakfast. He felt surprised at the food still on his plate. He pushed the eggs into a pile and contemplated another bite.
“Pa!”
Ben sighed but before he could speak, another voice erupted.
“Joseph! Let Pa alone. Can’t ya’ see he needs a little peace!”
Hoss’ outburst surprised them. His middle son might be the largest, but he was also the least combatant of them all.
Joseph pounded the table with his fist. “It ain’t fair!”
Adam pushed away his plate. “Come on, Joe. You’re 18 years old. I’m almost 30. You tell me who’s better prepared for this.”
“I’m a man and I’ll do what I have to do. I’ll join up with the confederates in Texas.”
Hoss’ fork hit his plate with a sharp crack and he pointed his finger at his little brother, his blue eyes blazing. “You listen here, Joe. You really think you could run off and join the army that’ll be fighting your brother? Is that the kind of man you are? Don’t give me no bull about your allegiance to the South, boy. You were born on this land, not the South. You ain’t a Southerner anymore than I am.”
“Hoss, simmer down.” There was something about the boy’s energy that spooked Ben.
Adam leaned forward. “Joe, Pa and I talked it over. As the eldest, it is my right to represent this family in the Union army. I’m going to be the one leaving with General Peeler at the end of the week.”
Hoss didn’t lift his eyes from his plate as he spoke. “Peeler said one man from each family. He said that Lincoln understands that we can’t strip Nevada Territory of men if we got any hope of becoming a state in the Union. You heard him and I heard him, and I figure that we make a pact right here and now that whatever happens, we promise that only one of us is going to this war.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Joe spoke. “I ain’t making a promise when I don’t know for sure what’s going to happen.”
“Hoss is right. If I go, that’s it. No one else will follow me. With the contract the army’s writing up with Pa, the rest of you can do your part by getting good beef to Denver on schedule.”
“Doesn’t seem…“
Hoss slammed his fork down again, startling all of them. “Don’t argue, Joseph. This ain’t just about you. If you was as grown as you think you are, you’d understand that. We’ll do the best job we can for this war by getting beef to those who need it. Do we have a deal?”
Joe made a face. “I ain’t interested in your deal, Hoss!”
“Joe, quit being so hardheaded. Do you think I want to go?” insisted Adam.
“Yeah, I do, Adam. I think you want to go so you can feel even more superior over the rest of us!”
“Enough! Last time I checked, this was still my house, and you all were still my sons!” Ben’s face was flushed, and his hands felt shaky on the table. A silence descended on the table. Ben waited until he had their attention. “I don’t want any of you to go. This isn’t an adventure; this is a war, and it isn’t just any war. When this is finished, we’re going to know if this grand experience of democracy is really going to last. The battles have been unlike any in the history of man. When have 17,000 men ever been killed in a single day? When!?”
Joe started to open his mouth, but the look in his father’s eye was enough to convince to keep his place.
Ben took a deep breath. “I can’t fool myself anymore. There is no way to keep all of you out of it. It was a fantasy, nothing more. But by God, they’ve only asked for one of you, and that’s all they can have. We all fight this war, but only one of us goes to it. Understood?”
Joe stared down at the table and acknowledged nothing. Ben leaned toward his youngest. “Joseph, you are too young.”
“Pa, the government says I’m old enough…“
“No! The government can say whatever it wants, but if a choice can be made, and Adam wants to go, then it’s a clear decision. He has the maturity to understand this war for the necessary but evil conflict that it is. My confidence is with him. As a man, I expect you to respect my decision.”
Joe shook his head, his eyes filling. “It tears at me so, Pa.”
“I know, son. You’re the passion in this family. Anything worth feeling just burns inside of you. I know this has gotta’ be a real struggle for you.”
Joe seemed to relax through the soothing tone of this father. He looked at his brothers. “Truth is, I wouldn’t join up with no Johnny Rebs. This emancipation thing seals it. I won’t fight against what I know is right. If I can’t go, then I’m going to have to…aw, I don’t know. I guess I just can’t go.”
Ben saw Hoss out of the corner of his eye. The big man seemed to be ready to explode. “Hoss, don’t worry so hard. Adam will be careful. He promises that.”
Hoss snorted. “I’m sorry, Pa. It ain’t what I’m thinking. We been sitting here talking on this and the whole time I been knowing something that the rest of ya’ don’t.”
Adam frowned. “What do you know, boy?”
Hoss nodded slowly. “I didn’t know quite how to approach this, but now I figure I got to quit worrying on it and just tell ya’.”
“Say it!” Ben growled.
“I met a fella’ last night at the Bucket of Blood. Name of Chamberlain. Said he was the aide de damp to that General Peeler. We had a few beers, and he told me a few things.” Hoss paused but put up a hand before anyone could berate him. “Chamberlain says they’re going to commission Adam, but they ain’t sending him out East.”
“What?!” Adam shouted. “Clearly, the man was drunk, Hoss.”
“Ain’t true, Adam. I believe him. He says you’re too valuable to put on a line. They need you back here working on the logistics of getting the cattle to Denver timely like. I guess you impressed ‘em with your proposal on cattle drive way stations and such.”
Ben felt the sting of tears in his eyes, and he struggled to hold his composure.
Hoss cleared his throat. “That’s not all. You see, things got a little dicey there, and Roy and Clem were at the town hall, and so I had to get involved and settle some squalls. Chamberlain was there for all that, and well, he was sort of impressed.”
“What are you trying to say, Hoss?”
“It seems Chamberlain is headed back for active duty. He has a platoon waiting for him back in Chicago. Seems he’s short a sergeant for one of his squads.”
“No, Hoss, no.”
“It wouldn’t look right if none of us went back East. Doesn’t matter if Adam is commissioned or not. People around here would think that we arranged it so none of us would be in the fight.”
“What did you do?” Ben gripped the edge of the table.
“I’m going with him, Pa. I’m going to represent for this family. I ain’t got no…fancy ideas like Adam. This is a good way for me to serve. I know it’s rough, and I aim to keep my head down. Ain’t going to volunteer for nothing. The truth is that I’m good with handling men. I know it and you do too. That’s what he needs. I didn’t sign nothing, but I told him I would go with him, and I figure my word just as good as a piece of paper.”
***********
There were times in history when any person with money could be a general, but those were the times when wars were gentlemanly affairs where battles stopped for meals and prisoners were treated like visiting guests. However, battles of the 19th century were suffering from technology. As men got killed in greater and greater numbers, battles required generals who had more than just money to claim. General Lesley Aaron Peeler was such a man. He’d graduated West Point, and spent the last fifteen years running the military college out of Baltimore.
A man like this made real decisions about life and death for this men on any given day. A man like this was a match for Ben Cartwright. Ben was used to getting his way. He’d earned the respect of most any man he knew by working harder, fighting harder, and being smarter than anyone else. He’d had an hour with the general and hadn’t gotten anywhere. He’d blustered, glared, and was on the verge of threatening when he realized that his normal tactics weren’t going to work with this man.
“I don’t know what else to say, General. You have Adam. You’ve commissioned him as a captain. That satisfies the promise you made to the families of Nevada Territory.”
Peeler sighed. “He’s commissioned as our agent here in Nevada Territory. The agreement your son made with Lieutenant Colonel Chamberlain is a different story. Since Captain Cartwright will not be leaving Nevada Territory, I don’t believe that he is violating our agreement. I feel no compunction to alter Colonel Chamberlain’s deal with your son, Eric.”
“Hos…I mean, Eric, is crucial to the work of getting beef to Denver in a timely manner.”
“Mr. Cartwright, I appreciate your position. My own son is a year into West Point. I pray every night that this conflict will end before he graduates. I have no illusions about the glory of war. I would prefer that he live out his service as a military professor or a fort commander.”
“Eric isn’t…he’s a good man. I don’t know that he…he’s never been east of the Rockies. He’s not…like other men. He’s…”
“It doesn’t matter, Mr. Cartwright. Chamberlain likes him. It’s decided. He’s a sergeant in the U.S. army.”
“My son, Adam, is ready…He’s…”
The General frowned. “You prefer to have one son go over another.”
Ben flushed deeply. “No, I don’t. It’s…Adam is older. He’s wiser…more worldly. Eric is…” Ben swallowed hard but couldn’t find words.
The general shook his head, and sat down to read the sheaf of papers on his desk.
Ben Cartwright stood there, unable to yield. He couldn’t quite imagine allowing his gentle ranch-bred giant of a son to go back East where they wouldn’t understand or appreciate who he was.
Ben Cartwright started to speak, then shook his head, and walked to the window. Anything else the general had to say was lost to the rancher who looked out the window and tried to imagine his son navigating a world outside the one he knew. He wondered what they would do with the middle son he loved so dearly.
***********
Hoss knew that Joe was scowling at him from the barn door, but he continued the deep brushing he was giving Chub. He spoke in low tones, telling the horse that he’d be gone for a bit. His soothing baritone seemed to slow the horse’s breathing, and the horse gently nuzzled his face with its nose. Hoss chuckled and rubbed Chub’s long neck. He could hear Joe shuffle impatiently behind him, but still he waited.
“How long are you going to pretend I’m not standing here?!”
Hoss closed his eyes and sighed. He patted Chub’s nose one last time and turned to his little brother. “You’re going to need to ride him at least two-three times a week. You know he tends toward the portly side. He’ll need the exercise.”
“Take him with you.”
Hoss shook his head. “Chub’s going to want to stay close to home. I ain’t going to wear him out dragging him all the way East.”
“I always looked up to you.”
Hoss chuckled. “Now tell the truth, Shortshanks. You always looked up to Adam. I was just your buddy. There’s a difference.”
Joe shook his head angrily. “I never thought you’d pull something like this.”
Hoss tried to pass by Joe, but the boy didn’t move. Hoss sighed and went over to sit on the tack box. “Say what you gotta’ say, boy.”
“Joining up like you did was a dirty rotten trick.”
“I just did what I thought was right.”
“And then you wanted us to make promises. That’s low, Hoss.”
Hoss took off his hat and scratched his thin, brown hair. “You think you’d have done any different in my shoes?”
Joe narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything.
Hoss shook his head. “I took an opportunity. They weren’t going to send Adam. Somebody had to go. It wasn’t going to look right. You know that.”
“Who cares how it looks?”
“We do, every single one of us. We gotta’ live here.”
“It wasn’t fair.”
Hoss threw back his head and laughed. “Say what you’re really thinking, Joe. You want to be the one to go, don’t you?”
Joe kicked the dirt. “Everybody thinks I am too young. I’m a man. I could do it just as good as you.”
“Do what, Joe? Die? Kill men? This ain’t no game, boy. I don’t want to go, but I have to, for the simple reason that if I didn’t, you would. I’m doing this for you.”
“That ain’t true!” Joe’s face turned red.
“Joe, you’re a better shot. You’re smarter and braver, and you’re pretty as a picture to boot. All that’s true, but I can’t let you go. Watching over you is my job. I been doing it since you were big enough to crawl. This is something I can do so you don’t have to.”
“That’s no good, Hoss. I don’t want that. It’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.” Joe couldn’t meet his eyes. His breathing sounded ragged.
“Joe, you’re 18 years old. You still need seasoning. Wanting something doesn’t mean you should have it. You got a lot to learn. I aim to make sure you got the opportunity to do that learning.”
Joe turned away and rubbed at his face angrily.
Hoss got up softly and walked toward him. Joe sensed him and stiffened. “I’m leaving tomorrow, Joe. You and I…we can’t leave angry. Neither one of us could live with that.”
Joe slammed a fist into the door. Hoss winced as the boy pulled back, pain radiating in his face. Hoss reached over to look at the hand, but Joe pulled away and ran out of the barn.
Hoss followed, but stopped short when he saw Adam walking toward him. Hoss let out a deep sigh. “I don’t have time for this. Did you see where Joe went?”
Adam nodded toward the creek, but then put out his hand to stop his younger brother. “What happened?”
“He hit the door. I just want to make sure his hand’s okay.”
Adam shook his head. “After today, you’re not going to be around to take care of him. You better let me go. I’ll make sure he’s okay.”
“Adam!”
“Hoss, he needs time, and you have a lot to get done before you go.” Adam smiled. “It’s okay, Brother. Nobody’s going to leave angry.”
Hoss stood there and watched his brother trot after Joe. Nothing made any sense anymore. He shook his head and went back into the barn.
***********
Adam found Joe down at the creek, soaking his hand in the cool, running water. Adam knelt down beside him. “Can I take a look?”
Joe glared at him. “I don’t need any help.”
Adam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Come on, Joe. Let me just see if it’s broken.”
Joe finally pulled it out of the water and extended it. Adam took it carefully, noting the grimace on Joe’s face as he handled it. After kneading it for a couple of moments, Adam sat back on his knees. “You split a knuckle, but nothing’s broken. Go up to the house and let Hop Sing wrap it in some cotton.”
Joe looked at his eldest brother for a moment. “Aren’t you mad at him?”
Adam squinted up at the sun. “I was surprised.”
“Aw, come on, Adam, you were more than surprised. I don’t buy it.”
“Okay, I was, at first. But Joe, this thing is bigger than us. Hoss got caught up in it. You would’ve done the same thing if the opportunity had come your way. Admit it.”
“But he got in the way of you going. You’re not even upset about that?”
“Hoss didn’t get in the way of anything. U.S. army is going to do what it’s going to do. I don’t have to be happy about it, but I’m not looking to pick a fight either. Listen Joe, he’s leaving tomorrow, and you need to let it go or you’re never going to forgive yourself when he’s gone.”
Joe swallowed hard. “I can’t let him go without me. It’s not right. I’m going with him. We’ll watch out for each other. Pa will understand.”
Adam shook his head. “Joe, it’s not going to happen that way. Hoss won’t let it. Pa won’t let it. I won’t let it.”
“You can’t stop me.”
Adam grabbed his arm roughly. “Don’t do it, boy. You follow him, he’s not going to be able to do anything but worry about you. He can’t afford to do that. Let him do what he has to do. We need you here.”
Joe looked away.
“Joe, I mean it. Stop thinking about yourself. We do what we have to in order to serve the cause. You do more by staying than going. I need you. I can’t get this beef to Denver on time without you. We have to establish a route that gets the maximum amount of beef to Denver in the shortest amount of time, and we need to do it for as long as the army needs us. I can’t do that without you.”
“Feeding soldiers is the only role we play in this war?” Joe looked up at his brother.
Adam shook his head. “You think this is going to be a cakewalk?”
Joe thought for a moment and nodded. “We got to figure out how to take that 200 mile stretch of desert without losing any head.”
“It’s our biggest challenge.”
Joe pushed dirt around with the toe of his boot. “It’d be better if Hoss was doing this with us.”
“I know, Brother, but we got to deal with the hand we have in front of us.”
***********
Hoss looked at how distended his saddlebags were. He was certain that they hadn’t been that bad half an hour earlier, and he figured that Hop Sing had been at work again. The Chinese cook considered Hoss’ size a measure of his success. He was often pointing out Hoss to his relatives in Virginia City, his girth a source of pride to Hop Sing.
Undoubtedly, Hop Sing was stuffing the bags with whatever foodstuffs he thought would survive the journey. Hoss almost unpacked it as people were bound to notice his bags filled to bursting. It looked bad, and he knew he had to set an example now as he was in charge of the volunteers of Virginia City, but he figured that as long as he took care to share his bounty, folks would let it pass.
Pa frowned at the bags too, and shot Hop Sing a hard look, and Hop Sing frowned defiantly back at him.
Hoss shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Pa.”
“I still think we should ride into town with you.” Joe spoke to the foot that was drawing circles in the dirt in front of him.
Ben shook his head. “We talked about this already, Joe. Hoss needs to focus on his new responsibilities, and we have responsibilities of our own. We have to say good-bye here and let Hoss…go.”
Ben’s throat was strangely dry, and he turned away as he attempted to clear it.
Adam walked up to Hoss and gave him a hearty handshake. “My thoughts will be with you every day, Brother. You have a kind of instinct they just don’t build in many people. Use it. Rely on it. We need you back here.” Adam rubbed at the bridge of his nose and stood back. “Not going to say more. No need to make this a big deal. You’ll be home soon enough.”
Hoss nodded, grinning. “It won’t be long. You fellers better not get too comfortable around here without old Hoss. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Joe kicked up more dirt. Hoss looked down at his feet. Then he grunted, strode over, and enveloped the boy in a hug. Joe squirmed a bit, but Hoss didn’t pay any attention. He held him tightly. “You’re a man, Little Joe, and I’m sorry about anything I did that made you feel less than. I’ll miss ya’, Little Buddy.” Hoss released him and stepped back, unable to make eye contact with anyone.
Ben nodded and looked up at his giant son. “We’ll be thinking of you every day. I’m proud of you, son.”
Hoss wrinkled his nose, his chin trembling. “Good-bye, Pa.” Ben started to walk toward him, but before he got there, Hoss jumped on the red sorrel he was riding. He tipped his hat. “I’ll be home soon.” Then he galloped off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.
Ben stared after him until the dust settled. Then he put his head down and walked into the barn. Adam turned on his heels, and headed for the barn. Joe found himself alone in the yard, and it felt quiet in a way that was unsettling. A soft whinnying alerted him to the fact that Cochise was tethered to the fence post in anticipation of following Hoss into town. Joe walked over to the paint, jumped on his back, and started in the direction Hoss took. After a few strides, he pulled the horse to a hard stop, and wheeled the horse in the opposite direction. Following Hoss wasn’t going to get him back home any faster. Joe chose a trail that headed up to Looking Glass Lake. The others had sought solitude for their emotions and he would as well.
***********
The first letter didn’t come from Hoss. There were 29 men who left Virginia City that January morning. Any news from any of them was news for the entire town. Gus Aitkins was the first one to get a letter through. His mother brought it to Sheriff Coffee, who painstakingly copied it and posted it outside his door. There was a crowd within minutes, and the few literate people were called upon to read it over and over. Joe happened to ride in that same afternoon. It didn’t take him long to catch wind of the excitement. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd. Mrs. Andersen tapped him on the shoulder. “Read it out loud, Little Joe.”
Joe squinted and pushed Shorty Lamont out of the way. He cleared his throat, “Ah, Gus says, Dear Mother, I hope you are well. I am well. We are mailing this from Omaha, Nebraska. It is as big a city as I have ever seen. We will be in Chicago within the week, and will be given orders from there. Happy Nelson says tell his mother that he’s doing well. John Walker, Jamie Green, and Seth Watson say the same. Appleseed Warren fell off his horse in Dakota Territory, and he had to stay in Deadwood to recover. Should be making his way back to Virginia City soon enough. Hoss makes us drill every day. He says we can’t look like dumb cowboys when we get East. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but whatever it is, we’re going to do it all in formation. Tell Pa we’ll be home soon. Your loving son, Gussy.”
Joe ran across the street to the general store and bought a piece of paper and a pencil. He wrote out the letter word for word, and folded it up for Pa. It wasn’t much, but it’s all they had.
The letters started to trickle in after that. Families took them to Roy who posted them on the wall outside his office. The first letter from Hoss came a week later. Roy broke with routine, and rode it out to the ranch. Ben was alone these days, and Roy thought a little company would do him good. Ben seemed to appreciate the gesture. He motioned for him to sit, and read the letter a loud.
Dear Pa and Brothers,
We made Chicago last night. Craziest town I ever saw. Makes San Francisco look like a farm town. Colonel has us bunking in a stable near the stockyards. It’s smelling something fierce around here and the stable ain’t that clean, but I’m just glad for the roof. It’s the first shelter we’ve slept under in two weeks.
Tell all the families that the boys are doing good. They listen to me, and I ain’t had knock heads more than once or twice. Colonel says we are moving on East in a week. Don’t know where we’re headed. Wish I could say I was enjoying the adventure of it all, but I’m missing you all real bad. I miss the Ponderosa. Ain’t no land out here that can hold a candle?
Hard to believe this country’s at war. I keep thinking I oughta be seeing some sign of it by now, but everyone’s just going about their business. It almost seems like we were brought all the way East for nothing. I know it ain’t true, but I guess it don’t hurt to wish.
I reckon you are all busy with the cattle drive. Wish I was there with you.
Your son and brother,
Sergeant Hoss Eric Cartwright
Ben folded the letter carefully and laid it on the middle of the table. For a while, neither man spoke. Then Roy reached for the letter and studied it a bit, “You know, Ben. The boy sounds good.”
Ben nodded but didn’t look at his old friend.
Roy took a breath. “When did Adam and Little Joe leave?”
Ben blinked. “Ah, two…no, three days ago.”
“It’s a pretty big job they’re taking on. Adam promised to drive those cattle in half the time, didn’t he?”
Ben nodded and smile crept onto his features. “He has set up stations along the way. Hands will herd to a station and then pass the cattle off to the next group of hands who takes them to the next station. The first group turns around and brings another herd up to the station. Every group of hands works the same leg of the trip. They get familiar with the passage, and there’s more time to rest. Adam’s got it set up with four legs and five groups of men. He’s got another group who does nothing more than keep the stations stocked. He’s going to be funneling cattle for everyone in the territory.”
Roy shook his head, chuckling. “That Adam is destined for great things. No doubt about it. Sometimes I don’t know what keeps him on the Ponderosa.”
Ben sighed. “He’ll leave one day. Ponderosa isn’t big enough to keep him.”
“I expect so.”
Ben chuckled. “It’s funny, Roy. I’ve been through a lot, you know, but somehow I figured that once I got it right, I could hold onto it and protect it.”
Roy frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ll never leave, but my sons might. We’ll all die one day. God help me if one of my sons dies before I do. Nothing stays the same, no matter how hard you try to make it.”
“Reckon we wouldn’t desire it so if it did.”
Ben smiled at his old friend. “You’re not as dumb as you look, Roy.”
Roy chuckled. They sat in silence for a moment before Roy got up and donned his hat. “Gotta’ get back to town. Ol’ Riley Jones has a birthday today and he has money in his pockets. Reckon there’ll be quite a bit to mop up over at the Bucket of Blood before the day is out. Had Clem put up extra bunks in the cells. You know Ol’ Riley never does a birthday half way.”
Ben nodded.
Roy got to the door and turned. “I gotta’ a lot of faith in that middle boy of yours. The whole town does. Never met anyone that worked harder at doing the right thing.”
After the door shut, Ben sat alone in his big house and pondered on Roy’s last thoughts. He wasn’t at all sure that doing the right thing was going to get his boy back safe to the Ponderosa.
**********
Rodney Yeats stood before him, hands on his hips. “It ain’t fair, Hoss.”
“That’s Sergeant Hoss to you, boy.”
The boy frowned more deeply. “Come on. I never had to go to no church back in Virginia City.”
Hoss smirked. “Explains a lot, Rodney.”
“You ain’t in church.”
Hoss shifted on the picnic table. The sun was rising and he wanted nothing but shade. “If I went inside, I’d never be able to keep an eye out for you heathens sneaking out like ya’ do.”
Rodney glanced back at the church building. It was a beautiful white church with a steeple higher than any he’d ever seen back West. “That ol’ preacher’s going to be talkin’ all day ifn’ somebody don’t stop him.”
“Aw Rodney, let it go. A little soul savin’ goin’ do you some good. I don’t care if you’re a God-fearin’ or not. I just don’t want us to look like a bunch of rascals. Don’t inspire much confidence in folks, you know, when the troops is the most ragtag bunch of hooligans they ever did see. We need folks to trust us. ‘Sides, afterward there’s going to be a nice spread. How long it been since you had some nice woman cooked food?”
Rodney hadn’t lost the sour look on his face. “But then you got us raisin’ a barn.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with being a good neighbor.”
“Don’t that good book say we gotta’ rest on Sunday?”
Hoss shook his head. “You boys’ idea of rest is confiscating some rotgut from the local bootlegger and gettin’ boozy all over the countryside. I ain’t havin’ it. My boys ain’t lurching about like a bunch of ol’ miners on Founder’s Day. Had enough of that.”
“This is punishment ‘cause we passed out on that farmer’s land last week. T’ain’t fair. We was just takin’ a bit of rest, ya’ know.”
“Scared that man’s womenfolk half to death. On your own, I don’t care what kind of fool you want to be, but you boys are mine for the length of this here war, and I ain’t havin’ you act like a bunch o’ half wits sprung from the local jail. Folks are goin’ ta’ think the West drained all the civilized out o’ us.”
“How long we goin’ to be in this here O-hi-O?”
“Don’t know, Rodney. Now stop wastin’ time. Get back in there and act like you was raised right!”
“Well, I wasn’t!” Rodney scowled deep at Hoss before marching back up the steps.
“Pretend, boy! Just pretend!” Hoss called after him. The boy had the good sense to close the church door quietly behind him. Hoss shook his head. Being Sergeant to these boys was nine shades of babysitting plus a fair bit of motherin’ with a side of takin’ ‘em out to the woodshed when the situation warranted. It was a headache most days, and he wasn’t shy about saying so to those who asked, but there was also a part of him that was discovering how good he was at it. Other Sergeants seemed to have a heap more trouble than he did. Their boys were always wandering off, getting drunk, or fighting. Some of those Sergeants seemed to take all of this as a fact of life. Hoss didn’t. One of his misbehaved, and he saw to it that boy got burdened with so much consequence that he’d never even think of making that mistake again. The boys who passed out on the farmer’s land could attest to that.
Chamberlain noticed his success too, and started sending him the hard cases for his squad. He was now running twice the men he had when he left Virginia City. It wasn’t lost on anyone that his group of boys was the biggest, best trained and most well-behaved bunch in Chamberlain’s division.
Today was letter writing day. No matter how tired they were after the barn raising, he was going to make every single one of them write a letter home. Every Sunday was letter writing day. At least half couldn’t even write their first name so it was always a burden for himself and others that could to write out a letter for each of and every one of those boys. When that was all over and all his boys were asleep, he’d sit at the fire and pen his own letter home. He knew to keep it cheery, and filled it with all kinds of news about each of the boys. He wouldn’t write about the struggles of being constantly on the move with no end in sight. He wouldn’t write about stale beans they’d been eatin’ or the fact that he needed suspenders to keep his pants up now. And he certainly wouldn’t write about his trip to headquarters near the Pennsylvania border.
Chamberlain took him with a week ago to Hooker’s camp just inside of Pennsylvania for a strategy session. Camp was in chaos when they arrived. Hooker’s men were still stumbling in after Chancellorsville when they arrived. The news was grim. Four days of fighting left almost twenty thousand men dead or lost. Hooker lost the ground and had to retreat.
Chamberlain disappeared into a large canvas tent with other high ranking officers for the better part of three days. Having no orders, Hoss knew only to stay close in case his commander needed something. Wave after wave of beaten men arrived. Their faces were dark with grime and they seemed to walk in a daze unaware of their surroundings as if they had become otherworldly creatures. Oftentimes, camp command had to step in to keep them from just marching on past into the endless countryside. It was their eyes that troubled Hoss most -- wide, unblinking eyes that seemed to recognize nothing. Hoss had seen eyes like that once before when the surviving soldiers out of Fort Hudson had escaped to Virginia City after an Indian attack. They just wandered around like ghosts for days, seemingly unaware of their own basic needs. Townsfolk organized to make sure the soldiers ate and had beds at night. Ben had taken four out to the ranch to recover. Eventually, they woke up and started to care again, but Hoss never forgot how much it spooked him every time they would look through him as if he wasn’t there.
Sitting was no good for Hoss. After an afternoon of it, he paid a guard to keep an eye out for Chamberlain, and made his way to the hospital. Weeks earlier, it had been nothing but a pasture, but now it was the very depths of hell. Men lay everywhere. Some dead, some dying, and other howling from the pain of a lost limb or an untreated wound. Hoss didn’t look for anyone running that place; he just jumped in by attaching himself to a group of nurses and doing every last thing they told him. Night ran into to day into night into day again before the camp guard found him. In that time, he had held men down while doctors sawed off limbs, he’d carried countless bodies to the far end of the meadow where gravediggers waited, and he’d held the hands of boys who cried for their mothers in their last moments of life. It took every ounce of strength he had left to leave the brave and tireless nurses and follow Chamberlain back to Ohio. He was past exhaustion, but sleep was impossible. He rode next to Chamberlain for two days without saying a word. He just looked ahead, his face grim as visions of those soldiers played for him again and again. They eventually took on the faces of his boys as he knew that their turn at the battlefield was coming soon enough.
Hoss shook his head sharply to lose the images burned into his consciousness. It would come soon enough, and he was going to make sure his boys were healthy, strong, and as ready as was humanly possible for such a thing as war. The church bell clanged, breaking his reverie. People spilled out of the church, and he chuckled at the look of relief on their faces. Rodney might not have been that far off about that ol’ preacher. In midst of the townsfolk were his boys, a bit ragged but freshly scrubbed, acting polite, making conversation with townspeople. He spied Rodney offering an arm to an old woman at the stairs. This made him smile, but it faded as sadness blanketed him and made him shiver. Rodney and the others would be boys for only another couple of days. War was about to snatch their innocence away so abruptly, it would leave them all gasping for breath.
The old woman still had Rodney attached at the arm when she approached him. “Sergeant, where did you get this sweet boy? He is the epitome of a gentleman. Ohio boys could learn something from him.”
Rodney was grinned madly and Hoss threw back his head and roared. This was definitely going into the letter to Pa.
***********
Joe slid off Cochise and gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from the cook. Despite his youth, every muscle in his body protested the long, dusty ride. He strode over to the wash basin, and splashed water on his face. Rivulets ran down his neck black with dirt. He splashed some behind his neck where it felt the most crusted. It had been almost a month before he’d sat in a good bath, and he reckoned only another cowhand would get within ten yards of him about now.
He nodded at the cook. “I don’t see Adam. Thought he’d be here by now.”
“He was. Left about eight hours ago.”
Joe frowned as he toweled off his face and arms. “He and I were scheduled to meet here tonight.”
“Yeah, but things happen. We ain’t got no pinto beans. I been feedin’ hands off mesquite beans and fatback.”
“What! Raleigh was scheduled to be here with supplies three days ago.”
The cook chortled as he stirred the pot he had roasting over the fire. “Raleigh is dumb as a sheep. That boy let hisself get swindled out of your money ‘fore he even got to the general store. Came back here red-faced and empty-anded. The boys is hanging on with these mesquites, but they’re getting growly and ain’t no way we can wait another week for supplies. Adam fired Raleigh and then set off to get them supplies hisself.”
Joe shook his head and squatted at the fire. “You got nothing but mesquites for me?”
Cook laughed. “No, for you, Joe, I got a beef Wellington and Yorkshire pudding right in the back of the wagon.”
Joe scowled and focused on the bitter, black coffee in his hands. “I remember when Hoss and I got stuck up the mountains one winter, and we couldn’t find nothing but those mesquites. I swear I almost starved to death. I could barely choke them down.”
“Speaking of Hoss, I got a letter to pass on.” Cook leaped up and ran to the back of the wagon. He came trotting back with a worn piece of paper. Joe reached for it eagerly. It took him only a few moments to examine it carefully. Then he folded it again and stuck it in his pocket. He couldn’t hide the disappointment on his face. Hoss’ letters were so unfailingly cheerful that it sounded like they were on some kind of vacation. The letters lacked the information that he was so desperate to know. They were just letters about the zany antics of his soldiers and the quirks of Easterners. Hoss had stopped mentioning the war altogether. It worried him. Made him wonder how close Hoss was to the action. What was really happening to his big brother?
Cook cleared his throat. “Adam had the same look on his face after reading it. He read it to the rest of the boys too. Makes war sound like a grand adventure, don’t it?”
Joe sighed and stared into the fire. Cook got up and returned with a plate and a fork. He ladled foul smelling mesquites onto the plate and slide a thick slice of fatback on top. Then he handed it to Joe. “You know Hoss wouldn’t let ya’ go to bed hungry. He’d make ya’ lick that plate clean too.”
Joe stared down at the plate and nodded. For a moment he could put himself there with Hoss scolding him about missing meals. Hoss would make him eat it. He would be sitting right next to him until he was satisfied that his little brother finished every last bit.
***********
Hoss let them talk while they were marching as long as they kept formation. However, if they didn’t stay in formation, he wasn’t afraid to walk them another two miles after everyone else had stopped for the night and then two miles back again. Everyone had always known him as affable, and that was true enough, but Hoss also had a lot of Ben Cartwright in him and hard work had never bothered him. He figured if he put them through it now, he’d save a lot of trouble later on. And sure enough, while his boys could talk and joke around a bit, they worked hard to stay in formation. Hoss had already forced them on for the extra hike twice since they left Virginia City, and they had no interest in pushing him to do it again. Sometimes he had to stifle a grin when he saw his boys fussing at the new ones about their comportment and such. They weren’t about to let some new jasper ruin things for the lot of them.
Today they were walking in Pennsylvania, moving fast on orders from the new Commander-in-Chief, a fellow called Meade. Hoss had a feeling in his gut running all the way up his throat. He ignored the jokes and the teasing today. None of it sat right. Every minute they were moving toward the battles that up to this moment had been nothing more schoolboy fantasies to them. He felt in his heart that life was going to change for all of them shortly, and the dread filled his gut deeper than Hop Sing’s Christmas dinner.
“Sergeant,” called one of the boys. “We is taking bets as to how many rebs we gonna’ get in the first skirmish. Rodney here says he’s down for at least five. Think he can hit that many with that ol’ squirrel gun o’ his?”
“I ain’t interested in your dumb bets. Don’t try me today,” Hoss growled. “Ain’t nothing I’d like better than to march all you savages until sundown.”
“Aw come on, Hoss,” came another voice.
Hank Perdue reached over and slapped that boy on the side of the head. “Don’t call him Hoss, ya’ idjit!”
“Sergeant Hoss, are ya’ scared?”
Hoss stopped formation immediately and searched for the voice asking that question. He found him in the middle. Little Jamie Green stood there uneasily, his hair still as snow white as it was when he was in short pants. Hell, the truth was that little Jamie hadn’t yet grown into any notion of being a man. Being 18 didn’t mean that much at all, Hoss figured. He was only 24, but it seemed somehow decades older than 18. Every time he looked at Jamie or any of the other teen-agers in his outfit, he remembered he was doing all of this so Joe didn’t have to. It seemed a crime to send children to fight a war for a bunch of men who’d never see a battlefield up close. The boys next to Jamie drifted away as if trying to rid themselves of a troublemaker.
Hoss stepped forward ‘til he was in the midst of their ranks. He nodded at Jamie. “Yes boy, I am scared. Being scared is a pretty smart thing to be right now, I think. Glad you have the good sense to realize that.”
Around him, murmurs rose and bodies stirred. Hoss turned to face them all. “This ain’t no picnic you’re going to. I can’t tell you exactly what it is, but I know that it’s going to be rough. I don’t want you so scared that you can’t function, but I want you scared enough so that you’re not running into this like it’s some kind of game. You got folks and sisters and brothers and pretty gals all praying for you come home safe, and you can’t take that lightly. I expect you to fight hard but fight smart. This outfit don’t need no heroes. You understand me?”
Around him, heads solemnly nodded. Hoss immediately started to feel bad about being so stern with them all. There was time enough for worrying and fretting. It seemed a shame to take away whatever little fun was left to them now.
He took a deep breath and rubbed at his nose a bit. Then he searched out Rodney in the crowd. “How you think you’re going to hit five rebs with that squirrel rifle when you ain’t even hit five squirrels with it?”
The tension broke and they all started laughing. Even Rodney couldn’t help himself. “Well, Sergeant Hoss, I figure a reb target’s a mite bigger than a bitty little squirrel.”
“How you going to convince them ol’ rebs to stand still long enough for you? I reckon they got enough sense to run when they see you pointin’ that ol’ musket at ‘em.”
That started a roar of laughter mixed with different protests from some and bragging from others. Hoss let them go for a few minutes. Then he pulled them back into formation. “Come on, boys. Good or bad, we can’t waste any time now. Got to make it to a little strip of land called Gettysburg before nightfall.”
***********
Adam found his pa reading a newspaper in the International Gold Hotel in Denver. Joe was sitting across from him stabbing at a plate of eggs like it was personal. Adam swallowed hard. His pa was reading the same paper he’d just finished and he figured Joe must have gotten an earful as well the way he was punishing his breakfast. He sauntered over as casually as possible. Staying calm was his fall back position around his family. It was a good counter to Joe’s impatience and his pa’s frustration.
Ben looked up and spotted his eldest. Adam looked worn. Dust muted his dark clothes and hair, and there was a heaviness in his step that was telling. Adam dropped more than sat in the seat next to him. He motioned to the waitress for coffee and a plate of eggs. “How did it go?”
Adam sighed. “We were 125 short of what I said we’d ship.”
Ben leaned forward. “Adam, it’s still twice what anyone else in the territory can deliver.”
Adam nodded. “There are so many variables. Hands who don’t show or lose the supply money. Trouble with the cattle. There isn’t enough time built in to account for the unexpected.”
Joe pointed his fork at his brother. “Come on now, Adam. We just loaded 650 cattle on a train for Chicago. In my book, we did good.”
Adam didn’t respond. He took a sip of dark coffee and closed his eyes.
“Joe here has been telling me that you’re running yourself ragged. Says you aren’t getting enough sleep. Says you’re constantly on the move, never stopping for anything. Looks to me like that’s true.”
Adam smiled and shook his head. “There’s no other way, Pa. I can’t let this thing fall apart. Not when I made the promises I did. Not when there are armies out East counting on the food we send them.”
“Son, you can’t do it all yourself. Joe and I can do more.”
“Pa, I need you in Virginia City working things on that end, and Joe’s already busy working doing work between stations.”
Joe fixed his brother with a look. “I could do more. Right now, I’m just running errands. Give me two of those way stations, and that just leaves you three to manage.”
“It’s a lot of responsibility, Joe.”
“Well, you said you needed me. Was that just a ploy to keep me from running off with Hoss?”
Mentioning Hoss’ name was electric, and they all stopped what they were doing. Joe wasn’t about to let go. He pointed at the Denver Post in his father’s hands. “Did you read it yet?”
Adam nodded.
“Did you read the casualty count at Chancellorsville and Vicksburg?” Joe shook his head. “That stuff can’t be true. That many people can’t die in one day. There ain’t no way.”
Ben sighed. “Hoss couldn’t have made it to either of those battles in time.”
Joe pounded the table. “Pa, that ain’t the point. He’s there now, and this war is…savage. There ain’t another word for it. I don’t see how it’s ever going to end. Hoss is in the middle. Say what you want, but he’s sitting right in the middle of it right now, mark my words.”
“Joe! That’s enough!” Adam glared at his little brother. “True or not, there’s nothing we can do. No need to hammer at Pa about it.”
The boy stared at his plate. “I guess I can’t help it. I can’t seem to…I just can’t stand not knowing…I can’t stand not being there with him.”
Ben let out a deep sigh. “It’s okay, Joe. We all feel this. It’s hard not knowing. Each one of us thinks about him every day. I guarantee it. What we’re doing here is important. Best we can do for him right now is pray and work to get food there in time.”
Joe nodded. He looked so deflated as if the outburst took more energy than he had to give.
Ben looked at Adam. “Working yourself into an early grave isn’t any better than going off to war. You look terrible. If you were a horse, I wouldn’t pay two dollars for you. Stop drinking coffee and get a hotel room. You need to sleep until you can’t anymore. You hear me, Adam?”
“Pa, this thing is going to fall apart…“
“Not in a day, it isn’t. Joe will take the two stations nearest Virginia City. He can do it, and I’ll keep watch over him. You aren’t helping anyone running yourself down like this.”
Joe looked up, his eyes bright. “I can do this, Adam. Let me show you. I’m not a boy anymore.”
Adam rubbed at his eyes. His family waited. Finally he looked at both of them. “You got it, Joe. You take station 1 and 2. I run the rest. We’ll meet at station 3 on Wednesdays.”
“Sounds like a plan, Brother.” Joe was on his feet dumping the rest of his coffee down his throat. “I’m going to take care of things.”
“Right now?” Ben frowned.
“Hey, I slept. Don’t need no more rest. Got to get out there. We got a quota to meet for next week.” Joe grabbed his hat and weaving between tables before either of them could protest further.
Ben shook his head. He turned to Adam and found him already nodding off. He rolled his eyes, called for the check, and herded his son off to a bed and a bath.
***********
They stood at the top of a hill looking down at pastureland. It was a sight that left Hoss breathless. Below them, through patches of black smoke, men ran, crawled, and fell in every direction. The sound was deafening; explosions and shooting so thick as to be indistinguishable. As terrible as it was, men continued to pour onto the pasture. It seemed endless. Colonel Chamberlain walked between them and the sight below. “Looks horrific, doesn’t it? You’re wondering if we’re going down into that? The answer is yes. We’re going down into that.”
Hoss licked his lips and looked around at the other sergeants and lieutenants in his midst. Some were shaking their heads. Others were merely staring in horror. Two men were whispering bible verses under their breath.
“Some of you are thinking that you’ll do what you can, but if it’s too crazy, you’ll fall back ‘cause you can always live to fight another day.”
Men stared at him silently.
Chamberlain shook his head. “I got something to tell you, boys. We’ve been fighting for two years ‘cause of thinking like that. We are stronger, bigger, and better resourced than those Johnny Rebs, but they keep beating us. Let me tell you why. They beat us time and again ‘cause they’re fighting for a way of life that we’re trying to take from them. They don’t live to fight another day. They fight to protect what they know. They’re prepared to die. We aren’t. We live to fight another day. And they keep beating us and beating us.”
Hoss fixed his eyes on the colonel and didn’t flinch.
Chamberlain eyes were feverish. “If any of you retreat today, you’ll be doing it for those boys under you. You’ll think that you’re saving lives. Make no mistake! You save nobody with your retreat. Every inch of ground we fail to take today will be ground someone else will have to die for tomorrow. If you live today, you may die tomorrow for land that someone else failed to take.”
Hoss nodded slowly.
“This great country won’t survive ten years of civil war. If we don’t hold our ground, if we don’t make our stand now, then we condemn every man who will be forced to make it for us tomorrow. Are we prepared to live with that?”
Chamberlain paused and studied their faces. “If any one of you can’t commit, I want to know that now. If you take that field, I want you to be prepared to die for it. If this is not for you, I want you to tell me now. There will be no court martial. You’ll be stripped of your duties and transferred to another command.”
No one moved a muscle. Chamberlain glared at them steadily for a moment before continuing. “Then who among you is going to lead the charge? Who’s going to take that hill?”
Hoss was feeling a thousand different things. He couldn’t see Chamberlain anymore. Instead, he saw mothers and sweethearts. He saw crowds in front of Roy’s office waiting for the daily mail. He saw his brothers and his pa. It felt as if the whole world was looking to him for his answer. There were too many responsibilities, too many reasons why he shouldn’t and too many reasons why he should. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Then to a background chorus of explosions and screams and shouting, Sergeant Hoss Cartwright stepped forward.
***********
Staddy Hopkins has been the telegraph operator in Virginia City for twelve years. It was good work and it paid well enough, but the reason he loved his job was because everybody’s business was his business. He knew everything before anyone else. It was power, pure and simple, and the only reason he’d lasted twelve years in this town was because he’d learned early on that discretion was key.
However, none of that meant anything when his ticker started dancing one early morning in June 1863.
***********
Hoss wouldn’t ever be able to recall much of the events of that day. There was the moment when he talked to his boys before they went in. He remembered telling them that what they did today was for every man and woman in Nevada territory. He remembered that his heart beat so hard he wondered if it wouldn’t just burst. He remembered the terror in their eyes. He told the youngest ones to stick close to him. The rest of the day was lost to him. There were times he couldn’t see five feet in any direction. The noise was too much for conversation, and shouting seemed to carry into the wind. He saw boys drop around him but he knew he couldn’t stop. He stopped at every boulder propped his rifle and fired. Then he headed for another. Their eyes were on him, he knew this, and he resolved to show only strength.
***********
“Shorty loiters in town when he goes for supplies. Says it takes four days for him to return when I know dang well it should take him three so I told Bertha Hampton Shorty was sweet on her. That big ol’ girl is on him like a cougar on a jackrabbit the minute he walks into town. Shorty can’t get out of town fast enough now. In fact, he stocks up real good now so he only has to make half the trips he used to make.”
Adam shook his head, smiling. “I never knew you to be such a schemer, Joe.”
Joe nodded. “It’s kinda’ fun, actually.”
“Be careful it doesn’t come back and bite you, Little Brother.”
Joe smirked. “I’m too fast for those ol’ cow pokes.” He reached over and cut off another piece of jackrabbit from the spit on the fire.
Adam wondered if he had ever been that cocky. He imagined he was, but there was something about the daring with which Joe approached life that both amazed and worried him. He thought that giving Joe two way stations to manage was going to be a world-class mistake, but the boy had been handling the problems with amazingly creative solutions.
Sun was going down, and the hands were lounging around the fire, eating beans and drinking whiskey. One of the hands was sawing away on a harmonica, and another was crooning out an old ballad about a girl named Bessie Sue. Joe and Adam sat away from the rest of the men, picking at a rabbit Adam caught on the way, and discussing the mechanics of the drive.
Joe took a long draw off his coffee and sat back. “How close are we to making quota this week?”
“If everything is on schedule, then there will be 850 head of cattle in Denver tomorrow in time for the train.”
Joe let out a yell and pumped a fist into the air. “We’re doing it, Brother!”
Adam allowed himself a grin. “We are indeed.”
“We’re moving twice as many cattle twice as fast as anyone ever did. Can you believe it?”
“It is something, isn’t it.”
“Just imagine what we could do, Adam. We already did the impossible. You and I working together with Pa and…Hoss…”
Joe’s voice trailed off. Adam looked over at him. “I miss him too, Little Joe.”
Joe nodded and looked away.
Adam sighed. “It’s not the same though, is it Joe? The two of you were attached at the hip for as long as you remember.”
“Does it ever bother you…you know, that Hoss and I are tight like that.”
Adam threw the remains of his coffee on the fire. “Not really. You were so much younger, and well, I guess I like my solitude. Plus, Hoss doesn’t really let a person get lonely. He was always there whether I needed him or not. Before you were big enough to trail after him, he followed me everywhere.”
Joe sighed. “I sure do miss him.”
Adam looked over Joe’s shoulder at the cloud of smoke. “Someone is coming in.”
Joe twisted around. “Looks like Shorty. Thought he’d be another day with supplies.”
The horse pounded into camp, and a grizzly old hand jumped off.
Joe glowered at him. “Are you going to tell me that ol’ Bertha Hampton scared you out of town? You didn’t even bring back supplies.”
The man shook his scraggly white beard. “Supplies are coming out tomorrow. New hand is bringing ‘em. Your Pa wanted me to ride out tonight to bring you the news.”
“Well, spit it out, Shorty.” Adam was growing worry in his gut.
“There was a big battle out East at a place called Gettysburg in Pennsylvania. Got reason to believe that our boys were there.”
“Is that all you know?” Joe felt the pitch of his voice rising.
Shorty looked down. “Don’t know much more. Heard tell there was something like 150,000 men in that fight. Also heard that about a third of them didn’t walk away.”
The men stood silently around Shorty. Adam and Joe weren’t the only ones with family in that regiment. For a long while, the only sounds around there were that of crickets and a stubborn owl