Motivation
By BeckyS
© Summer 2002, as allowable

“What’s wrong with him now?” Adam asked, eyebrows raised in astonishment as he looked down at the wan figure of his youngest brother, lying so still in his bed. “He was fine when I left four days ago.”

Ben shook his head. “Doc Martin doesn’t know. He doesn’t have the ague or pneumonia or even a cold—”

“He ain’t been shot or beat up or tossed off a horse,” added Hoss.

Adam rubbed the back of his neck in puzzlement. “No girl has dumped him, or best friend turned rustler or died or anything?”

“No,” Ben sighed as he sat heavily in the chair by his youngest son’s bed. “He just . . . didn’t get up yesterday.”

All three pairs of eyes watched hopefully as Joe moved slightly, his head rolling to the side, but he didn’t wake.

“Let me sit with him a bit, okay, Pa?” Adam asked. “You two look like you could use some rest.”

“C’mon, Pa.” Hoss took his father’s arm and coaxed him out of the chair. “Let’s at least go get some coffee.”

Ben rose, and Adam was quick to slide into the chair before his father could have second thoughts. “I’ll call you if there’s any change.”

Ben nodded wordlessly and allowed Hoss to usher him from the room.

Adam slid forward on the chair and brushed a few curly strands from his little brother’s forehead. “What happened, boy?” he asked softly. His long fingers trailed down Joe’s cheek, searching for fever. His smooth skin was cool, though – almost too cool. He took Joe’s limp hand between his own, and found it ice cold. “Let’s see if we can’t get you warmed up a bit.”

He rose and unfolded the extra quilt from the foot of the bed, then pulled it to his brother’s chin. He tenderly tucked first one, then the other of Joe’s arms under the heavy covers, but jerked in surprise when he felt a sudden grip on his wrist. “Joe?”

Joe struggled to lift his eyelids, and Adam could see he was having trouble focusing. “Hey, little buddy, it’s time to wake up.”

“Adam?” The voice was just a whisper.

He took a stronger hold on his brother’s hand. “I’m here.”

“Where . . .” Joe swallowed and tried again. “Where are they?”

“Pa and Hoss are downstairs. I’ll go get them—”

“No.” His head tossed restlessly on the pillow. “Not Pa . . . Hoss. Them. Where are they?”

“Where’s who?” Adam asked more forcefully, trying to get through to Joe’s foggy mind. “Who, Joe? Who are you looking for? Tell me, and I’ll go get them. Whatever you need, I’ll do for you, but you have to tell me.”

Joe smiled faintly. “Knew I could count on you . . . you’d understand. Pa and Hoss try, but . . . just doesn’t happen as much for them.”

Adam felt tears prick at his eyes and blinked them back furiously. Joe was always saying that Pa and Hoss understood him so much better than Adam that his little brother’s faith struck him to the heart. “Whatever you need, kid,” he choked out.

Joe took a stronger hold on his hand, and his voice gained strength as he fought to tell his brother what he needed. “Find them for me, Adam. They’ve all disappeared – I don’t know why they’ve left us. Haven’t you noticed? No new adventures, no new loves, just chores and branding and riding fence and nothing new ever happens.” His voice began to climb and he tried to sit up.

“Joe, lie back down,” Adam pleaded as he pushed gently on Joe’s shoulders.

“They’ve deserted us, Adam. Please . . . please find them and make them come back.”

Sudden understanding lit Adam’s dark eyes. “All right, Joe. I know what to do now. Just settle down now and rest.”

Joe searched his face uncertainly.

He stroked the unruly curls from Joe’s forehead again as he spoke soothingly. “Don’t worry, I’ll find them for you. Big brother will take care of it, and you won’t have to worry any more. Just sleep . . . rest.”

Joe gradually relaxed and sank back into the pillows. His eyelids drooped, but he managed to ask, “You’ll find them?”

“I’ll find them.”

“You’ll make them come back?”

“I promise. I’ve missed them, too, you know.”

Joe opened his eyes again, and a slight grin tugged at his mouth. “Nothin’ happened in Reno?”

Adam shook his head, a wry tilt to his mouth. “Nothing at all. Boring as dirt.”

Strangely, that seemed to reassure Joe more than anything Adam had said. “All right. You find ‘em, Adam, you talk them into coming back.”

“I will, boy. I will.”

He sat there a little longer, making his plans as he waited to be sure that Joe fell asleep again. When he was certain his brother was resting peacefully, he rose and silently left the room. He wore a thoughtful frown as he descended the staircase, and only raised an eyebrow at the sight of his father and other brother sitting at the dining room table, sipping coffee. He didn’t join them, to Ben’s evident surprise, but headed for the sideboard by the front door instead and grabbed his gunbelt.

“Adam?” Ben set his coffee cup down with a clink of china, rose and strode to his eldest’s side. “You’re leaving?”

Adam nodded as he fastened the buckle.

“But you just got here,” Hoss added. “You gonna desert Little Joe when he’s sick?”

“I’m gonna fix what made him sick,” Adam said with a determined grimace. He tied his holster down around his thigh with quick, sure movements.

Hope lit Ben’s face. “You know what’s wrong with him?”

“Yeah,” he said, and when he looked up, they could see the rock-solid determination of a man who would protect his family, no matter the cost to himself. “I’m gonna go find them and make them pay attention, make them fix it so this never happens again. I’m sorry, Pa, but you two don’t know what it’s like. Joe just can’t take it, not like I can. I can last a while without them, but that boy . . .” He gazed at the top of the stairs for a moment, then grabbed his hat. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Pa. Make him hold on.”

“But . . . but where are you going?” Ben spluttered.

Adam paused with his hand on the door latch. “I’ll go wherever they are, do whatever it takes to get them back.”

“Get who back,” Hoss asked, as bewildered as his father.

“The writers. I don’t know where they all went this summer, but they’re going to learn they can’t ignore the Cartwrights.” And he slammed out the door, a man with a mission.

Hoss breathed a sigh of relief. “He will, too. Big brother gets that look in his eye . . .”

A weight lifted from Ben’s shoulders. “Yes, we can leave it in his hands.” He smiled at Hoss and put his arm around his shoulder. “Let’s go see Joseph.”

THE END (maybe)

Written during an inexplicable dry spell in the appearance of Cartwright fiction. Funny, but shortly after this appeared on one of the lists, fanfic started to appear again. Coincidence? Maybe . . . or maybe those late night visits of Adam’s paid off . . . .

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