The Guardian

by Susan

“Hey, Joe! Have you seen an ax around any place?” Hoss Cartwright shouted toward his younger brother. “We’re one short.”  Hoss looked down and frowned at the tally sheet in his hand, a small paper on which he had been making marks as men loaded equipment into the wagon next to him.

As soon as Hoss asked the question, a picture flashed in Joe Cartwright’s mind – an ax buried in the stump of a freshly cut tree.  He had plunged the ax into the stump this morning so he could easily find it when he returned to get it. Except he hadn’t returned. “Yeah, I know where it is,” replied Joe in a voice tinged with disgust at himself. “I left it by that last stand of trees we cut this morning. I was going to go back and get it after I helped Jack with the problem loading the logs, but I forgot.”

“Well, little brother,” said Hoss as a smile twitched on his face. “Since you’re the only one who knows where it is, I guess you’ll have to go get it.”

Sighing, Joe tugged at the black leather gloves covering his hands. “Doggone it, Hoss, it’s way up the hill,” complained Joe. “It’s going to take me at least twenty minutes just to get up there.” He cocked his head and looked at his older brother. “Maybe we should just forget about it,” he suggested hopefully. “It’s only an ax.”

“Why sure, Joe,” replied Hoss, nodding his head.  A solemn look crossed his face. “Only you’re the one who’s going to have to explain to Pa why we left with a dozen axes ten days ago to cut the lumber for the Silver Slipper mine contract, and came home with only eleven.”

Looking down, Joe blew out a breath of air. “No thanks,” he said. “I’d rather take a forty minute hike than have to listen to one of Pa’s lectures on laziness and responsibility. I’ve had 22 years of those lectures, and I don’t think I’m ready for another one.”  Joe looked up at the hill and grimaced a bit. “I’ll go get the ax,” he said in a resigned voice.

“I kind of thought you’d say that,” Hoss answered with a grin.

Turning, Joe started to walk toward a hill a few feet away. “Don’t leave without me,” he said over his shoulder to Hoss. “I don’t mind hiking up that hill but I sure as heck don’t want to walk all the way back to the ranch.”

“Don’t worry,” said Hoss. He looked toward where a group of men were folding tent canvass and sorting through equipment. “It’s going to take us awhile to get the rest of this gear loaded.”

Nodding, Joe started up a path worn into the grass on the hill, heading toward a grove of trees at the top of the rise. He was silently cursing himself for his forgetfulness and thinking of getting home rather than paying any attention to the landscape around him. Joe had seen everything there was to see as he had made the climb from the camp at the bottom of the hill each morning for the past ten days, and as he had traveled down again at the end of each day’s work of felling and trimming trees. His mind was on a soft bed and dinner at a table. That’s why he was so startled when he reached the top of the hill and saw an ax jutting from the side of the first tree on the crest of the hill.

Surprised, Joe stopped and looked around. The woods were quiet, with no sign of any movement and only the twittering of a few birds breaking the silence. He pulled the ax from the tree and looked at it with a puzzled expression. The small pine tree brand burned into the wooden hilt confirmed the ax was the missing tool from the Cartwright’s gear. Frowning, Joe looked around again, trying to figure out how an ax he knew he left in a stump deep in the woods had come to be buried into a tree near the path. Obviously, whoever left the ax there meant it to be easily found. Joe wondered, though, about who had put it there for him to find.

Once more, Joe looked around, trying to identify who his benefactor might be. But all he saw were the trees and bushes of the woods, and all he heard was the quiet chirping of the birds.

Shrugging, Joe put the over his shoulder, turned and started down the hill.

It was Hoss’ turn to be surprised when he saw Joe walking toward the wagon a scant twenty minutes after his brother had left. “Hey, Joe,” he said, “what’d you do, run up that hill?”

“No,” said Joe, shaking his head as he handed the ax to Hoss to put into the wagon. “It was the oddest thing. I found the ax in a tree right at the top of the hill. It was like somebody put it there for me to find.”

“You sure you didn’t leave it there yourself?” asked Hoss with raised eyebrows.

“I’m sure I left it in the stump,” Joe stated positively. “Besides, if I had put in the side of that tree, one of the other men would have seen it for sure when they came down the hill.” Joe shook his head again. “Wonder how it got there?”

“Well, it was there, that’s all that’s important, “ said Hoss in a dismissive tone. “Throw the ax in the wagon. Then, why don’t you go over and help Charlie load those chains into that third wagon. He’s got a lot to load and he could use a hand.”

“All right,” agreed Joe, tossing the ax into the wagon next to Hoss. As he started toward a wagon a few feet away, though, Joe stopped and looked up toward the top of the hills, a thoughtful expression on his face. He stared at the trees on the crest of the hills for a minute, his face reflecting the puzzlement in his mind. Taking a deep breath, Joe shook his head and headed toward the wagon.

In the woods at the top of the hill, the man sat on a log watching the activity below. He had made sure he was hidden by the foliage and shadows before settling down in this spot. As he watched, a satisfied smile crossed his face. He knew it had probably been a mistake to put the ax near the path for the boy to find. But he so seldom got a chance to help that he couldn’t resist. Usually, all the man could do was watch, as he had watched the timber operation for the past ten days. Not that he didn’t enjoy watching. It gave him a sense of pleasure to do so. But he so much wanted to help, and at the same time, knew he couldn’t. When the rare occasion came along when he could do something, he just had to take advantage of it.

As he watched the men below finish loading the wagons, the man stood and stretched a bit. He knew it was time to leave, but he waited a few more minutes. He saw the men climbing into the wagons, settling themselves on the driver’s seats or on top of the gear in the back. The wagons started to move slowly, rolling over the grass toward a trail several yards away. Hoss was driving the first wagon, and the man admired how he handled the team. The boy was driving the second wagon, and while he wasn’t quite as expert as his brother, the man was proud of the way he

guided the heavily loaded wagon smoothly over the grass.

As the wagons began to pull out of sight, the man turned and walked through the woods toward his own camp. There was no need for him to keep watch for awhile. He knew what would happen over the next few days. There would be a family dinner at the ranch tonight, and conversation around the fireplace as everyone got caught up with each other’s news. Probably an early evening, thought the man as he continued walking. Tomorrow would be spent stowing gear and finishing up the all the little details of the project. The day after tomorrow was Saturday, and that’s when he would need to be in Virginia City. He knew that the reward for a successful job would be a Saturday night in town. He would resume his watching then. But until then, he had things to do. The man’s pace quickened. Yes, he thought, he still had a number of things to do, although most of his work was done. The time was getting close, he thought, and a feeling of pleasure coursed through him. It wouldn’t be long now.

**************

“Hey Pa, we’re home!” shouted Hoss as he banged open the front door of the ranch house.

“So I hear,” said Ben Cartwright with a smile as he walked from his study toward the door. Seeing his sons almost always brought a sense of happiness to Ben, but it was especially true today. The house had seemed lonely with Joe and Hoss at the timber camp and Adam in Denver. “Welcome home,” he said, his smile broadening to encompass not only Hoss but also Joe who had followed his brother into the house.

“It’s good to be home,” Hoss said, returning his father’s smile. His tall white hat was already hung on a peg by the door, and Hoss began to unbuckle his gunbelt.

“Hi Pa,” said Joe briefly with a smile. Following Hoss’ example, he hung his tan hat on a peg, and began removing his green jacket.

A small frown creased Ben’s face as he listened to Joe’s somewhat subdued greeting. “Everything go all right?” he asked.

“Smooth as glass,” answered Hoss as he began rolling the belt of his holster. “The trees we cut were just the right amount to thin out that growth. The logs are on their way to the mill. The Silver Slipper will get the timber they need right on schedule.”

The frown on Ben’s face deepened as he looked toward Joe. His youngest son was also removing his gunbelt, but Joe was staring at the floor as he did so. “Joe? Everything all right?” asked Ben with concern.

“Huh? What?” Joe looked up, startled at the question. “Everything’s fine, Pa,” he said with a smile. “I was just thinking.”

“Well, that explains why you’re so quiet,” said Hoss with a grin. “It ain’t something you do often enough to have a lot of practice at it.”

“At least I do it from time to time,” Joe shot back, his smile widening. “You ought to try it once in awhile, older brother. It’s a wonderful exercise.”

“I get all the exercise I need working around this ranch,” Hoss assured his brother.

“Yeah?” said Joe in a skeptical voice. He gave Hoss an exaggerated look from head to toe. “You couldn’t tell that by looking at you.”

“It’s all muscle, little brother,” answered Hoss, patting his stomach. “All muscle.”

Ben smiled as he listened to his sons’ jibes. He was relieved that whatever was bothering Joe wasn’t serious. He knew his youngest son well enough to know that he wouldn’t be trading insults with Hoss if he was really upset. “What were you thinking about, Joe?” asked Ben curiously. “Unless it’s something you don’t want to talk about,” he added quickly.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Joe assured his father. “It’s just that something kind of strange happened when we were breaking camp. I left an ax up in the woods, and when I went to get it, I found somebody had put it in a tree near the path where I could find it.”

“Maybe someone just found it and didn’t have time to go all the way down to the camp to return it,” suggested Ben.

“Maybe,” said Joe doubtfully. “But there wasn’t anyone around, Pa. We didn’t see another soul except the men on the timber crew the whole time we were up there.”

“Somebody could have been riding through up there while we were breaking up camp,” Hoss said. “We were down at the bottom of the hill for a couple of hours before you went back after that ax.”

“That’s possible, “ admitted Joe. Then he shook his head. “But it’s not just the ax. Some other strange things have happened. About a week before we left on that timber job, I went down to the breaking corral to get a bridle I had left there. When I left it, it was all tangled up. I threw it over the fence because I figured to get it and untangle it later. Only when I got back to the corral, the bridle was hanging on a post, and it was straightened out.”

“One of the hands could have done that,” said Ben with a shrug.

“Then why did they leave the bridle at the corral?” asked Joe. “Why didn’t they bring it back to the tack room? And another thing. Twice when I was out chasing strays last month, somebody had herded in some cattle to the pasture while I was gone. I knew because there were more cattle in the pasture than when I left, and they were all bunched up.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like anything to be concerned about, Joe,” said Ben with a smile. “You got a helping hand a couple of times, that’s all. You should be grateful, not worried. Besides, you don’t even know if it was the same person who did each of those things. It could be just coincidence.”

“That’s not very likely,” said Joe, shaking his head. He gave his father a wry smile. “I find it hard to believe that suddenly everyone is going out of their way to help Joe Cartwright.”

“Maybe you got yourself a guardian angel doing your work for you,” suggested Hoss with a grin. “That don’t seem like anything to complain about.”

“I guess,” Joe said, but his voice still reflected an element of doubt.

“You boys go get cleaned up,” said Ben abruptly changing the subject. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour, and you don’t want to miss it. Hop Sing has been cooking all day.”

“He has?” said Hoss, his face lighting up with anticipation. “What’s he making?”

“Chicken and dumplings for you, Hoss,” replied Ben with a smile. “And apple pie for Joe.” Ben shook his head ruefully. “Hop Sing said he was saving his really big dinner for when Adam gets home, although I can’t  begin to imagine what he’s planning for that.”

“When does Adam get back?” asked Hoss, rubbing his hands together.

Ben wasn’t sure whether Hoss’ eagerness was for his brother’s return or the huge dinner that would accompany Adam’s homecoming, but he smiled nonetheless. “I got a telegram today.  He’ll be back on Monday, on the afternoon stage.”

“Did he say whether he closed the deal on those cattle?” asked Joe.

“Yes, the wire said the contract was signed,” replied Ben with a nod. “He didn’t give any details, but knowing your brother, I’m sure he got the price we wanted.”

“The way Denver is growing, I could have probably gotten the price we wanted,” said Joe dryly. “They want beef pretty bad up there.”

“I don’t know about that, Joe,” said Hoss thoughtfully. “You would have been so distracted by them pretty gals in Denver that you probably would have given the cattle away.” Hoss took a few steps quickly to the side to avoid the playful swipe Joe made at him.

“Go get cleaned up,” said Ben with a laugh. He watched as Hoss and Joe climbed the stairs to their room. His expression grew thoughtful as he pondered what Joe had said about getting a helping hand lately. He had to agree with Joe that it seemed to be more than just coincidence. Then Ben shrugged. He couldn’t see any harm in what was happening. He turned and walked back to his study, already forgetting about Joe’s comments.

*************

The next few days played out just as the man in the woods had predicted. Dinner on the evening that Hoss and Joe had returned was a quiet one, although that was more the result of the Cartwrights enjoying Hop Sing’s cooking than anything else. Friday and Saturday were spent checking the gear and stowing it in a shed behind the barn. Joe had volunteered to check the axes and sharpen them as needed. He wanted to take another look at the ax he had found in the tree. But Joe found nothing unusual. In fact, he wasn’t even sure which ax was the one he found. When he checked the tools, all of the axes looked exactly alike. Joe couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something strange about what happened, but he couldn’t seem to put his finger on what was bothering him.

As the man had guessed, Joe and Hoss headed to Virginia City on Saturday night. They got to town early, eager for a long evening of play after the hard work they had put in.

“Looks pretty quiet for a Saturday night,” commented Hoss as he and Joe rode down the main street.

“It’s early,” replied Joe. “The sun hasn’t even gone down yet. Wait until it gets dark. Things will be really hopping then.” Joe looked around. “Let’s head for the Bucket of Blood,” he suggested. “If anything is going on, it’ll be there.”

The Cartwrights guided their horses toward the saloon. Neither noticed the man who stepped quickly into an alley as they passed him.

As Hoss and Joe entered the saloon, they looked around. The Bucket of Blood also was relatively quiet for early on a Saturday night. A few tables were occupied, mostly by older men nursing a beer or playing cards. Two men in suits stood at the bar talking. At a table to the far right, four saloon hostesses sat, talking among themselves.

“I sure hope things pick up or this is going to be really wasted visit to town,” said Joe shaking his head. “Let’s grab a table.”

As Joe led Hoss to a table in the middle of the saloon, he looked toward where the girls were sitting. A smile crossed his face as he saw Sally, one of his favorites, sitting at the table. Joe liked Sally – she laughed at his jokes, and even told a few bawdy tales herself. He had exchanged a few kisses with the girl from time to time, but knew neither one of them took the kisses seriously. She was exactly what a hostess should be – someone with whom Joe could have a drink and enjoy himself without worrying about either one them getting too involved.

“Hey, Sally,” yelled Joe as he and Hoss began to sit at the table. Joe waved his hand, gesturing the girl to join them.

One of the girls looked toward Joe, then turned to say something to the other girls at the table. Slowly, the girl got to her feet. In reality, Sally was no longer a girl, but rather a woman about thirty. She was wearing a jade dress that clung tightly to the upper half of her body, but revealed her white shoulders and arms. The dress flared into a skirt at the waist, a skirt which ended at her knees and showed off her well-formed legs in dark mesh stockings. The green dress was in contrast to the auburn hair pinned up on her head, but seemed to match the green in the woman’s eyes.

“Hello, Joe, Hoss,” said Sally in a cautious voice. “What can I get for you boys?”

“We’d like a couple of beers,” answered Joe with a warm smile. “And why don’t you get one for yourself and join us.”

Looking down, Sally said in a hesitant voice, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Joe.  I’ve been warned to stay away from you – twice.”

“Stay away from me?” repeated Joe with a frown. “Who said that?”

“Well, Jake Fallon from over at the Flying M for one,” admitted Sally. “He keeps telling me that he’s coming after you if I don’t stay away from you.”

“Jake,” said Joe with disgust as he shook his head. “He’s said that about every man he’s seen you with, but he never does anything about it. He’s all talk.”

“He can get kind of crazy when he’s drunk,” Sally said. “A couple of day ago, he was in town. Jake had been drinking pretty heavily and by the end of the night, he was telling me how he was going to shoot anyone who came between him and me. He even pulled a gun from his holster and was waving it around.”

“Did he use it?” asked Hoss, his voice reflecting his concern.

“Well, no,” admitted Sally. “This fellow at the next table just kind of knocked the gun out of Jake’s hand, told him to be careful. Jake yelled some stuff at him, but that’s all he did.  Jake left right after that. But I’m afraid he might actually use the gun next time.”

“Jake couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn with a gun even when he’s sober,” said Joe with a smile. “He’s the worst shot in the county. Like I said, he’s all talk.”

“That may be,” said Sally, nodding her head. “But the fellow who came in this afternoon seemed pretty serious when he told me I shouldn’t being seeing you.”

“What fellow?” asked Joe, more curious than alarmed.

“I don’t know his name. I’ve never seen him before. He was about fifty, white hair and a white beard. He talked real nice, kind of formal. Didn’t look like a cowboy, but he wasn’t wearing a suit or anything.” Sally shook her head. “Kind of hard to figure out what he was.”

“What did he say, exactly?” pressed Joe.

Looking off and frowning, Sally tried to remember the conversation. “He said something like it would be better if I didn’t see you when you came to town. He said you weren’t the right kind of guy for me.”

“Sounds like your reputation is starting to catch up with you, little brother,” said Hoss with a smile.

“Shut up,” Joe snapped at his brother. His tone was more exasperated than angry. Joe turned back to Sally. “What else did he say? Did he threaten you?”

“No, it wasn’t like that at all,” insisted Sally. “He was real nice, real reasonable. It was more like he was trying to warn me than threaten me. He kept saying things like you needed a different kind of girl, just like I needed a different kind of guy. He said us being together would just make both of us miserable.”

“What happened to him?” asked Joe, his curiosity growing. “Where did he go?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Sally. “He finished his beer and walked out. Anyway, after what he said and what Jake said, I figured maybe it would be best if I didn’t sit with you.”

“Sally, my girl, I don’t want to marry you,” said Joe with a smile. “I just want to have a beer with you. One beer, that’s all. How much trouble can that cause?”

Studying the men at the table, Sally considered what Joe said. Suddenly, she smiled. “You’re right,” Sally agreed with a brief nod. “Besides, that’s what I get paid to do, entertain the customers.” Sally winked at Hoss. “If I stayed away from every cowboy who had a bad reputation, I’d never get any work.” Sally laughed at the expression of mock injury on Joe’s face. “I’ll get us some beers.”

“Wonder who that fellow was?” Hoss mused as Sally walked toward the bar.

“Don’t know,” said Joe with a shake of his head. “From the way, Sally described him, it sounded a little like Pa. But unless he’s grown a beard overnight, it couldn’t have been him.”

“Maybe it was your guardian angel,” suggested Hoss with a laugh.

“Who’s guardian angel?” asked Sally as she returned to the table with three beers. She put the beer glasses on the table, and eased herself in a chair close to Joe.

“Joe’s, “ explained Hoss. “We figure he’s got a guardian angel looking out for him lately.”

“Well, I hope he’s off duty right now,” replied Sally as she leaned toward Joe and put her hand on his arm.

Putting his hand on top of Sally, Joe replied softly, “So do I.”

Just outside the door, the man peered into the saloon. He could see the two Cartwrights laughing and drinking with the hostess. The man shook his head, more in sadness than anything else. He had heard the threats against the boy from the cowboy, and he had tried to protect him. Besides, the man knew a saloon hostess wasn’t the right kind of woman for the boy. The man knew he couldn’t approach the boy himself, so he tried to warn him off through the woman.

Sighing, the man took a step away from the door. He had half-guessed that his warning would be in vain. Young men never seem to know what’s best for them. That’s why they needed someone wiser to guide them. The man looked around, noticing that the street was getting busier. More cowboys were riding into town and heading toward the saloons. He was glad, in a way. The more people who crowded into town, the easier it would be for him to keep watch without being seen. Once more, the man sighed. He hated towns, hated the crowds. But he was willing to put aside his own feelings to watch, to make sure nothing happened to the boy. Tomorrow he would finish what he needed to do. Then he would be ready. All he had to do was wait – and watch.

****************

“Hey, Pa, is Adam here yet?” Joe said in a loud voice as he walked into the ranch house on Monday afternoon. He felt a trickle of sweat running down his face, and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Don’t any of you boys ever enter the house without yelling?” complained Ben as walked down the stairs toward the main room. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and a frown creased his face as he looked at Joe. His

son’s shirt was dusty and stained with sweat. Joe’s pants were also dusty, and Ben could see the beads of sweat on Joe’s face and neck. “What have you been doing?” he asked.

Wiping the sweat again from his face, Joe gave a lopsided grin. “Chasing horses,” he answered. “You know those wild horses I thought would be so easy to round up in the canyon? Well, it turns out they were smarter than I figured. Instead of heading toward the canyon, they took off across the ridge. We ended up chasing them half-way across Nevada before we finally got them herded back to the ranch.”

“How many did you get?” asked Ben.

“Twenty, and some pretty good looking animals,” answered Joe. “I figure about two weeks to break them and train them. We should have them to the Army remount post by the end of the month easy.”

“Good,” said Ben, nodding. “We really needed them to fill that contract. I hate to have to buy horses just to turn around and sell them to the Army.”

“Is Adam back yet?” Joe repeated his question.

“No, Hoss went into town to pick him up about an hour ago,” said Ben. “They should be back soon.”  He looked at Joe, trying his best to hide his fatherly concern. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get cleaned up? Maybe take a nap? I’ll call you when Adam and Hoss get here.”

“Sounds good to me,” agreed Joe. He unbuckled his gunbelt from around his hips, and rolled it into a ball. “It was a long day, and a hot one.” Placing the rolled holster on the table by the door, he removed his hat and hung it on the peg by the door. Joe ran his fingers through his hair, doing his best to brush the dust from it. Turning back to his father, Joe said, “I probably should have just headed toward the lake and jumped in. Would have been faster than trying to wash all this dust off.”

“Do you want me to have Hop Sing heat up some water for a bath?” asked Ben.

“No,” said Joe shaking his head. “If we interrupt him in the middle of his cooking that big meal he’s planning, we won’t get a decent meal for a week.” Joe rubbed his eyes. “Besides, I’m too tired. I’d rather have a nap than a bath.”

“Go on upstairs,” Ben said. “I’ll let you know when Adam and Hoss are home.”  Joe nodded and walked past his father, climbing the stairs to his room.

When Joe woke from his nap, he knew he had been asleep for quite awhile. His room had been bright from the sun as he had stripped off his shirt and removed his boots, then washed about a ton of dirt off his body. The last thing he remembered was stretching out on the bed, planning on getting a few minutes of sleep. Now the room was dim, indicating Joe had been asleep for a couple of hours. Someone – probably his father – had covered him with the bedspread.

Suddenly, Joe sat up, remembering that Adam was due home. His oldest brother had been gone for three weeks, and while Joe had his run-ins with Adam from time to time, he missed his brother when Adam was gone. Joe jumped from the bed and walked quickly to the dresser. He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a clean shirt, a dark blue one. As Joe struggled into the shirt, he walked over to the wash stand. Even in the dim light, he could see the basin was still filled with dirty water. Joe decided not to bother with throwing it out and simply poured a little water from the pitcher on his hands.

Splashing the water on his face to help himself wake up, Joe walked over and sat down on the bed. He quickly pulled on his boots and buttoned the shirt closed. As he stood, Joe tucked the shirt into his pants. He walked toward the door, stopping only for a minute to wipe his face with the damp, wrinkled towel on the wash stand. Then he hurried out of the room.

As Joe descended the stairs, he saw Adam and Hoss sitting comfortably on the sofa, and Ben relaxing in his favorite red chair by the fireplace. “Adam, welcome home,” said Joe as he bounded down the stairs.

“Well, Sleeping Beauty finally awakes,” replied Adam with a smile. “Hello, Joe. It’s good to be home.”

“I thought you were going to wake me when Adam and Hoss got here,” Joe said to his father in an accusing tone.

“I was,” replied Ben. “But you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You were pretty tired when you got home, and I decided to exercise my rights as a father to make sure you got some rest.

“I didn’t miss dinner, did I?” asked Joe as he turned to look at the tall clock near the door.

“Don’t worry, little brother, “ Hoss assured Joe. “We wouldn’t dare let you miss dinner tonight. Hop Sing is bent on having a special family meal for us, and they’d heard the screaming all the way to China if you weren’t at the table.”

“Dinner won’t be ready for another half hour or so,” added Ben.

Turning to his oldest brother, Joe asked, “How was Denver, Adam?”

“Fine,” replied Adam. “I was just telling Pa and Hoss that we’re going to sell our cattle for four dollars a head higher than we figured.”

“That’s great,” said Joe, with a nod. “So did you do anything in Denver besides negotiate that cattle contract?”

Adam looked down as if weighing was he was about to say. He looked back up at Joe and said, “I met someone in Denver who might interest you. His name is David Williams.”

“Who’s David Williams?” asked Joe curiously.

“He works at the Denver Mint,” answered Adam. “He’s a friend of Don Parker. I met David and his fiancée at a party at Parker’s house.”

“What’s so special about David Williams?” asked Joe.

Biting his lip a bit, Adam hesitated, then said, “His father is Tyler Williams.”

Joe’s eyes widened at the name, and he felt the familiar conflict of emotions rising him as he thought of Williams, a man Joe always thought of as Paul. That was the name Joe had called the man for weeks, until Joe

had found out the reason why Williams had called himself by that name.

Turning to look into the flames burning in the fireplace, Joe could feel the usual  combination of both fear and gratitude that thinking about Paul seemed to cause. Joe had thought about Paul often over the last year or so, and each time he did, he was never quite sure what he felt about the man. Paul had found Joe in the mountains, shot in the side and with his leg caught in a bear trip. He had rescued Joe, taking him back to his house in the mountains and nursing Joe back to health. Joe had been grateful to the man, and found he liked his intelligent, witty rescuer. He had enjoyed his stay with Paul – the two had played chess and cribbage,

while Joe recovered, as well as having long discussions on every subject under the sun. Joe had felt he had found an interesting new friend.

But Joe’s enjoyment of staying with Paul had ended abruptly when the man declared that he was going to force Joe to stay with him and become a surrogate son. Joe shuddered a bit when he remember that time – Paul’s sudden shift from intelligent friend to violent madman had frightened Joe. Paul had been willing to chain Joe, and perhaps worse, in order to prevent him from leaving. Only a daring escape through a window and a desperate trek through the rough mountain forest with an injured leg had enabled Joe to avoid becoming part of Paul’s sick plan. Even then, Joe almost had failed to get away.  By a stroke of luck, Joe had been found by his father in the woods as Paul was catching up with him. Ben had convinced Paul to leave Joe with his father, to allow Ben to take Joe home. But Joe had never forgotten the look on Paul’s face as the man had

stared at Joe before disappearing into the woods. He had seen the determined look on Paul’s face – and the hint of madness in the man’s eyes.

“Has David seen his father lately?” Joe asked, still looking into the fire.

“Not since he left that house in the mountains almost two years ago,” replied Adam.  He waited, letting Joe take the lead. Adam wasn’t sure how much he should tell Joe about his conversation with David Williams, so he decided to let his brother ask the questions. Whatever Joe wanted to know, Adam would tell him. And whatever Joe didn’t want to know, Adam would keep to himself.

“Did David say anything about why he left?” Joe asked.

“He told me that he got tired of living up in the mountains with only his father for company,” Adam said slowly, framing the answer in his mind as he spoke. “He wanted more out of life, but his father refused to let him leave. He also said that his father had started acting a bit, well, odd. From what he said, I gather David wasn’t willing to put up with his father any longer. So David waited until his father was out hunting, and then simply took off. He had some money, and took the stage to Denver. He told me he had been an accountant in St. Louis before…before his father’s troubles, so he got himself a job at the Mint.”

Nodding, Joe didn’t say anything. He thought about David’s story, and decided it matched what Paul had finally told him about his son’s departure. For awhile, Joe had thought David had died. It was only when Paul tried to claim Joe as a son that he had admitted his real son had left him.

“So he’s found a girl and getting married,” Joe said, not really caring. He was only making conversation as he tried to decide whether he wanted to ask the next question.

“Yes, he’s getting married at the end of the summer,” said Adam in a quiet voice.

Taking a deep breath, Joe turned slowly.  He wasn’t sure why he was so reluctant to ask what he wanted to know most. Looking at Adam, Joe swallowed hard, then said, “Did you ask… Joe stopped and took another breath. “Who does David think killed his mother?”

“Well, as you can imagine, it’s difficult to ask a man if he thinks his father killed his mother, especially in the middle of a dinner party,” Adam replied. He looked toward Ben, seeking some guidance on whether he should continue. Seeing Ben’s encouraging nod, Adam added, “ But David and I had lunch the next day.  He told me he still thinks his father is innocent

although he admitted he’s not as sure as he once was. David evidently had some rather fierce arguments with his father up in those mountains,

and well, he’s just not sure as he once was that his mother was killed by

someone breaking into the house.”

Turning back to look into the fire, Joe thought about the story Paul had told him, of how Paul had been falsely accused of murdering his wife. Joe had been sympathetic at the time to Paul’s tale of languishing in jail for months until David had proved his innocence. He had even understood Paul’s bitterness toward the people who had turned their backs on him, and had snubbed him even when released from jail. Joe could see why Paul had wanted to live in the mountains, away from people with accusing looks. It was only later, when the man’s madness had become evident, that Joe had wondered what really happened to Paul’s wife.

“Did you tell David about what happened between me and …and his father?” asked Joe in a hesitant voice.

Once more, Adam glanced at his father before continuing. “Yes,” said Adam. “David told me he wasn’t all that surprised. He said his father is the kind of man who thinks he always knows what’s best for everyone. Apparently, he was always telling David and his mother how to live their lives, not to mention his students at the university.  And he would get very upset when his advice was ignored. That’s one of the reasons David left his father, I gather. David got tired of never being able to make any decisions, of never being allowed to live his own life. Anyway, he said that he wasn’t surprised that his father found someone else to, well, ‘guide through life’ as David put it.”

Standing mutely by the fireplace, Joe thought back over his time in the mountains with Paul. Images of events and bits of conversation flashed through his mind. Joe hadn’t realized it at the time, but during his entire stay with Paul, he hadn’t really made a single decision. Paul had been in control of everything – what they did, what they discussed, even what they ate. And when Joe had ‘disobeyed’ Paul, the man had become enraged.

Suddenly, Joe realized his father and brothers were staring at him, waiting for him to say something or do something. He turned back to face them. “I..I think I’ll go outside and get some air before dinner,” Joe said, giving his family a shaky smile. He didn’t wait for anyone’s response, but rather walked quickly across the room and out the front door.

Watching his son leave the house, Ben commented, “He’s still bothered when he thinks about that man.”

“I know,” agreed Adam. “That’s why I didn’t want you to wake him until we had a chance to talk. I thought my meeting with David might upset him, and I wasn’t sure whether I should even tell him about it.”

“Keeping it from Joe wouldn’t have served any purpose, Adam,” said Ben.

“And telling him what David Williams said about his father might help Joe sort out his feelings about that man.” Ben shook his head. “I know from the little Joe has told me that he feels a huge sense of gratitude and maybe even a bit of affection for the man for having saved Joe’s life and treated him so well for all those weeks. But I also know that what he tried to do -- and why -- scared Joe.”  Ben looked toward the door again. “I imagine it’s difficult for Joe to figure out exactly what he does feel about that man.”

“That Williams fellow is sure a strange one,” said Hoss, shaking his head.

“Imagine him thinking he could just keep Joe with him, like he was a stray pup or something.”

“Well, he would have had his hands full,” said Adam with a wry smile. “Joe isn’t exactly known for following orders and taking advice.” Adam turned to his father. “Isn’t that right, Pa?”

Still staring at the door, Ben nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said. “Joe goes his own way, sometimes. That’s what worries me most about him. He keeps things to himself, especially when he’s upset. I wish he would…” Ben shook his head. “I guess it’s a little late to expect him to change.”

“Aw, Pa, you worry too much,” said Hoss, trying to ease his father’s concerns. “If it’s something really important, Joe would talk to you about it.’

“Hoss is right,” said Adam. “It may take Joe a little while to get around to it, but eventually, he lets you know what he’s thinking.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Ben. But his voice held even less conviction than his words.

***************

For the next few days, Joe went about his work on the ranch in a quiet, almost distracted manner. It was the same demeanor he had brought to the dinner table when he had finally returned to the house for Adam’s homecoming meal. Ben, Adam and Hoss refrained from commenting on Joe’s subdued manner, both at dinner and over the following days. They knew there was little they could say to help Joe. All they could do was give him time to work out his emotions for himself.

Just after lunch on Wednesday, Ben was in the barn currying his horse when Joe rode in. Ben had tired of working on the accounts, and decided he needed some physical activity for awhile. He hadn’t expected to see Joe until dinner.

“Hello, Joe,” said Ben, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice as he saw Joe leading his pinto into the barn. “You’re back early.”

“Didn’t find many strays,” answered Joe, “so I thought I’d head on in.”

Continuing to brush his horse, Ben said nothing. He knew Joe’s excuse for riding out this morning had been to look for strays. Ben suspected that Joe had really wanted an opportunity to have some time to himself. He waited, knowing it was up to Joe to decide if he wanted to tell him what was on his mind.

As Joe led his horse into the stall, he wondered what he should say. He knew his family had been giving him a lot of space lately. He was grateful for their concern, but he also was tired of it, just as he had grown tired of thinking and brooding about Paul. Nothing was being accomplished. Joe hadn’t come any closer to resolving his feelings about the man, and he suspected he never would.

“I’m going to start breaking those horses tomorrow,” said Joe, as he began to unsaddle his pinto.

Ben’s hand stopped moving over the back of his buckskin. “Are you sure you want to do that?” he asked cautiously.

“Sure, why not?” replied Joe with a shrug as he picked up a brush and began working on his own horse. “Those wild horses should be settled down enough for us to start working on them. And we need to get them to the Army by the end of the month.”

“Breaking horses takes a lot of concentration,” said Ben, his tone still cautious. “A rider can get hurt if he’s not paying attention to what he’s doing.” Ben swiped the brush over his horse quickly. “I can have Adam start on them if you want.”

“There’s no need for that,” Joe said in a firm voice. “Look, Pa, I know I’ve been kind of moody the past few days, but I’m done with that. We’ve got a ranch to run, and it’s time I started pulling my weight again.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Ben began to brush his buckskin with vigorous strokes. “I’m glad you feel that way,” said Ben. “I’ll tell the boys in the bunkhouse tonight to plan on starting with those horses first thing in the morning.”

“Good,” said Joe, as he continued to curry his pinto.

Smiling a bit, Ben said, “You know, Joe, since you’re back early, there are a few things we could use some help with.”

This time it’s was Joe’s hand that stopped in mid-air. “Um, well, Pa, I was kind of thinking I would take it easy this afternoon. You know, breaking horses is tough work, and I want to be rested when I start.”

“I know,” answered Ben, trying to hide his smile. “But what I have in mind should tire you out too much.”

“Yeah?” said Joe, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “And what did you have in mind?”

“Well, Hoss is going into town to pick up supplies and the mail,” said Ben. “I thought you might go along with him and help out.” Ben brushed a few finishing strokes over his horse’s flanks. “Of course, on a hot day like today, you boys might want a little refreshment while you’re in town.”

Grinning, Joe swiped the brush over his horse. “You’re right, Pa,” said Joe. “I ought to help Hoss with those supplies. It’s not right that he should have to do all that work by himself.”

“I thought you might feel that way,” said Ben with a smile.

**************

On a hill overlooking the Ponderosa ranch house, the man frowned as he watched Hoss and the boy hitching up the buckboard. He had settled down on the hill, several yards from where he had built a rough camp in the trees. He had been sure the boy was going to be home for the rest of the day, and had planned to watch for only a little while before returning to his camp. Now it appeared he had guessed wrong. Obviously, Hoss and the boy were getting ready to leave the ranch, and since they were taking the buckboard, the man guessed they were heading for Virginia City.

Cursing silently, the man scrambled to his feet and hurried back to his camp. He hated going into Virginia City, and even more so when he didn’t have time to plan his actions. He thought briefly about not making the trip but quickly decided against it. The boy needed someone to watch over him, and if he didn’t do it, who would? He couldn’t count on Hoss and the others to watch over him like he did. They simply didn’t understand how much guidance the boy needed. They had a tendency to let him handle things on his own, and the man knew that wasn’t right. He knew the boy needed a guardian, someone to show him the right way. And soon, he thought, the boy would know it too.

**********

“Hey, Hoss, why don’t you go pick up the mail?” suggested Joe as he put a small box into the back of the buckboard. “I’ll meet you over at the Bucket of Blood.”

Carrying a large sack over his shoulder, Hoss approached the buckboard.

“You all tuckered out from all the work you done?” asked Hoss sarcastically as he tossed the sack into the back of the wagon. “Seems to me I’ve been toting all the heavy stuff.”

“Well, I was out chasing strays all morning,” explained Joe solemnly. “All that riding, it tires a man out. Then I had to carry those three boxes from the store on top of it.” Joe wiped his face with an exaggerated gesture. “I’m lucky I have enough strength to go over and get a beer.”

“We all admire the way you manage to keep yourself going no matter what,” agreed Hoss. “It’s an inspiration to the rest of us.”

“I know,” said Joe, nodding. His face broke into a grin. “Besides, Pa was the one who suggested we might need a little refreshment. And you know how I always do what Pa says.”

 

“Since when?” snorted Hoss.

“Since he started suggesting cold beers on hot days,” answered Joe, his grin widening. “How about it? You get the mail, and I’ll buy you a beer.”

“Well, if you’re buying, that’s different,” Hoss said, smiling.

“I said A beer,” replied Joe quickly. “I don’t have enough money to fill up that big frame of yours. Anything after the first one is on your tab.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get, even if it’s only one beer,” said Hoss. “I’ll meet you at the saloon.” He turned and started walking down the street toward the post office.

Smiling, Joe turned in the opposite direction and strolled slowly toward the Bucket of Blood. He smiled and tipped his hat to two pretty girls who passed on the sidewalk. Both girls smiled back at Joe but continued on their way. Joe stopped for a moment and considered whether he should follow the girls. But after a few seconds of thought, he decided he was more interested in a cold beer than romance right now.  Joe didn’t notice the man taking advantage of Joe’s distraction to hurry across the street and into an alley near the saloon.

Stepping off the sidewalk, Joe began to cross the wide dirt street toward the Bucket of Blood. He was only a few feet from the saloon when a man lurched out of the swinging doors and staggered toward him. Joe put up his hands to prevent the man from running into him.

“Whoa, easy, Jake,” said Joe as he steadied the obviously drunken cowboy. “You’d better be careful. You’re liable to hurt yourself.”

Peering at Joe through bleary eyes, it took Jake Fallon a minute to recognize his rescuer. But as soon as he realized that Joe was standing in front of him, Jake became enraged.

“Joe Cartwright!” shouted Jake in slurred tones.  “You mangy dog! What are you doing here? Come to see Sally, have you?”

“I’m just going in to get a beer, Jake,” said Joe in a reasonable voice.

“You come to see Sally, ain’t you,” Jake shouted again. He pushed Joe away from him. “Sally’s my girl.”

“Sure she is, Jake,” replied Joe in a soothing voice. “Everyone knows that.”

“You stay away from her, you hear,” Jake said in a loud voice. “I don’t want no Cartwright moving in on my girl.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” said Joe, nodding slowly. “Now why don’t you go on back to the Flying M and sleep it off.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” growled Jake. “You’d like me to leave so’s you can have Sally all to yourself. Well, we’re going to settle this right now.

Get ready to draw, Cartwright.” Jake staggered back a few steps into the street and stuck his arm out a bit, positioning his hand over the gun in his holster.

Joe watched Jake carefully, not particularly alarmed but still being cautious. He knew Jake Fallon. The man wasn’t particularly good at drawing his gun when sober, and Joe wasn’t sure he could even pull the gun out of his holster when drunk. And even if he did manage to draw his gun, as Joe had told Sally, he knew Jake was probably the worse shot in Nevada. Nevertheless, he kept a careful eye on the drunken cowboy. He had no desire to be felled by a lucky shot. Joe was pretty sure he could talk Jake out of drawing, but just in case, he kept a close watch on Jake’s hand, already fixing his aim on the man’s wrist in case he had to shoot. Joe knew he could outdraw Jake any day of the week, even when Jake was sober.  He really didn’t want to put a bullet into the cowboy’s arm, but was confident he could do so if he had to.

In the alley, the man felt the cold hand of fear around his heart. He could see the cowboy was drunk, but even drunks could draw their guns swiftly and shoot someone. Even more alarming to the man was the fact that the boy seemed unconcerned. He didn’t seem to realize the danger he was in.

The boy merely stood there, arms at his side, talking to the drunken cowboy.

The man reached down and pulled his own gun from the holster on his hip.

He seldom used the gun, and usually only wore it when he was in Virginia City. A man without a gun stood out like a sore thumb in town, and the man had no desire to be noticed. He aimed the pistol at the drunk in the street. He knew he wasn’t very accurate with a handgun but he had no choice. He had to protect the boy.

“Jake, I don’t want to hurt you,” said Joe in a calm voice. “Now, why don’t we call this thing off. I’ll buy you a beer and we can talk about this.” From the corner of his eye, Joe saw several figures gathering nearby in the street to watch. He hoped somebody had enough sense to go get the sheriff.

“I ain’t going to let you weasel out of this, Cartwright,” said Jake. He frowned as he looked at the blurry figure in front of him. He had already forgotten why he was mad at the man.

“It’s a hot day,” said Joe. “Don’t you want a beer?”

Listening to Joe, Jake suddenly had an urge for a cold beer. He decided that things could wait to be settled until after he had had a beer. Besides, he wasn’t sure any more what needed to be settled. Jake dropped his arm, intending only to let it hang at his side. He never meant to go for his gun. Almost everyone watching could tell that. Almost.

Suddenly, a shot rang out and Jake clutched his chest. His eyes opened wide in surprise as he felt the sticky blood on his hand and the piercing pain in his body. His mouth worked as if he were going to say something. Then he pitched forward, face first, into the dusty street.

Shocked, Joe watched with an open mouth as Jake fell to the ground. For a few seconds, he merely stood still, too surprised to move. Then Joe rushed forward.

Kneeling on the ground, Joe gently turned Jake onto his back. He put a hand on Jake’s neck, feeling for a pulse, even though he knew he wouldn’t find one. The gaping wound in the middle of Jake’s chest told Joe that the man was dead. 

suddenly realizing that a crowd of people had formed a ring around him and the body on the ground. Joe jumped to his feet. “Who fired that shot?” he demanded, looking around. “Who killed Jake?”

At first, no one said anything. The people crowded around Joe looked at each other, their faces reflecting both the puzzlement and surprise that they felt. Finally, one man said, “I think it might have come from the alley, Joe.”

Pushing his way through the crowd, Joe hurried to the alley next to the saloon.  As he neared the narrow opening, Joe pulled his gun, ready to take on the coward who had killed Jake from ambush. But when he entered the alley, Joe saw it was empty.

With a frown on his face, Joe whirled back to face the crowd who had followed him to the alley. “I thought you said the shot came from here,” he said angrily.

“I said I thought the shot came from here,” the man who had spoken up corrected Joe. “It could have come from someplace else. Or maybe whoever fired took off right away.”

Joe looked over his shoulder and back into the alley, as if expecting to see someone. Then he turned back to the people standing in front of him. “Didn’t anyone see who fired that shot?” he asked in an exasperated voice. His own answer was a few heads shaking and a telling silence.

Pushing his way through the crowd once more, Joe walked slowly toward the spot where Jake laid on the hard packed dirt of the street. He could see Sally standing a few feet away from Jake, looking down at the body with an expression of both shock and grief.  Joe hurried forward to stand next to the woman. “I’m sorry,” said Joe in a quiet voice.

Turning her head, Sally looked at Joe with wide eyes. “Who’d want to do a thing like this?” she asked. “Who’d want to kill Jake?”

“I don’t know, Sally,” answered Joe, shaking his head. He put his arm around her.

Hearing the sound of rapid footsteps, Joe turned and looked down the street. He could see Sheriff Coffee hurrying toward him, with Hoss following the lawman. Joe waited.

“What happened?” Coffee asked Joe, clear