Thou Shalt Not Lie


By Debbie B  ;0)


Proverbs 6: 16-19

These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him:
A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood,
An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief,
A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.


He watched the face of the boy as he held the quivering chin cupped in his own large hands.  The hazel eyes refused to meet his chocolate brown ones, and Ben could tell by the look on the young face that once again the boy was lying to him.  A wave of disappointment in his son ran through him as he watched the boy struggling with himself to reach an answer that he thought would satisfy his father’s question.  

Little Joe glanced briefly into his father’s eyes, saw the sad expression in the brown depths and realized that his father was conscious of the fact that he had been lying to him.  Little Joe saw the hurt and disappointment etched onto his father’s face and it tore at his heartstrings knowing that he was the cause of those feelings.  He wanted to tell his father the truth, but he couldn’t, he was frightened.  They had threatened to kill him and his family if he told what he had seen.  They had promised him that they would start with his father, then his two older brothers and that they would make him watch.  No, reasoned Little Joe, under no circumstances could he tell his father the truth; the truth could cost him his whole family and Joe considered that too high of a price to pay.

“I’m waiting Joseph,” Ben said, his eyes trained on the young face of his son.  He wondered briefly at the change of expression for just a swift moment the boy’s thoughts had been a hundred miles away and then fear had clouded the tear filled eyes as the boy had glanced again into his own eyes.

Joe swallowed the lump that had suddenly grown in his throat and as the tears slipped down his cheeks, he sealed his fate with his lie.  “No, Pa.  I wasn’t no where near the butte.”  

‘There,’ he thought, ‘at least for now my family will be safe, my butt is in danger, but I can live with that.  I can’t live without my family.’

Joe hung his head as he felt his father’s hand release his chin and he refused to allow his eyes to search his father’s face.  Joe knew what he would see if he looked into his father’s eyes so he forced himself to keep his head downcast.  Joe heard the expulsion of air from his father’s lungs just before he spoke and Joe knew what his father’s next words would mean.

“Joseph, go to your room.  I will be up shortly to finish this little conversation.”  Ben pointed his finger at the stairs as Joe turned to follow his father’s orders pausing briefly to scan the faces of his two older brothers.  Neither could meet the eyes of their youngest sibling.

When he reached the landing he stopped momentarily and cast his eyes in his father’s direction.  Ben stood with his hands on his hips, legs slightly parted and a look of disgust on his face as he watched his son on the landing.  It tore at the young boy’s heart to see the look that told him that his father was ashamed of him.  

“I’m sorry, Pa.”  It was more a whisper than a vocal apology but Ben had heard it.  Joe ran the rest of the way up the stairs and minutes later slammed the bedroom door behind him and threw himself down on his bed.  He grabbed Scruffy, his stuffed puppy that had been a gift from Adam on that special Christmas almost seven years earlier, and buried his face in the soft fake fur and released his tears.

Ben shook his head slowly and sat down in his leather chair.  “I don’t understand, that boy knew that I was aware that he was lying; yet he still refused to tell me the truth.”

Adam who had been sitting quietly in the opposite chair only shrugged his shoulders.  “Who knows what goes on in that head of his, Pa.  I can’t explain it; he knew that all three of us knew that he was lying.  But what do you do now?  If he refuses to admit the truth and continues telling lies, what are you going to do?  Lock him in his room, spank him, or just ride it out?”

Ben leaned his weary head back into the chair and sighed deeply.  “I get the distinct feeling he is covering up something.  It isn’t like the boy to just blatantly out and out lie, especially when he knows, and he does know, that I knew he was lying.  Something is wrong, I just can’t figure out what it is, and knowing Joe; he isn’t likely to tell me anytime soon.”  Ben crossed his legs, rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and stared into the fire that warmed the room.

Hoss had been sitting on the settee, watching the exchange between his father and his youngest brother.  It worried him, the way that Little Joe had been acting lately, what with his lies, even his nightmares had him troubled.  He had tried talking to the boy but Joe had only told him to mind his own business and leave him alone, which he had complied but now Hoss was worried that he had done the wrong thing in ignoring his youngest brother.  He was sure Joe was lying; had he not seen for himself this younger brother on the butte, he might have been tempted to believe him when he had stated that he had not been there.  But he had seen and he had let it slip to his father, thus getting Joe into more trouble.  What troubled Hoss was why Little Joe would lie about where he had been.  It wasn’t as if Pa would have minded him being at the butte, he wouldn’t have liked it, not with all the trouble going on with the other ranchers over the use of the new barbwire fencing his father had started using.  But Pa would have only given Joe a verbal reprimand, as it stood, Joe was likely to have trouble sitting for the next few days now that he had been caught in another lie.

“Maybe after he has time to think about the consequences, he will tell you why he’s lying,” offered Adam hopefully as he peered over the top of the book he had been reading before the scene with his father and youngest sibling had begun.

Ben just looked at his oldest son with a look of doubt on his face and shaking his head pulled himself from his chair and drew a deep breath.  “Well, I might as well get this over with.  Why don’t you boys find something to do in the barn, I’m afraid this could get rather noisy?”  

Ben made his way to the stairs as Hoss and Adam headed out the door.  Ben paused at Joe’s bedroom door and took another deep breath.  The last thing that he wanted to do was to chastise his son in this way, but what other option did he have?  He had already tried everything else he knew to try and with no results.

Gently Ben knocked on the door before pushing it open and stepping inside.  The room was dark, the light having been turned low and the drapes had been pulled closed to shut out the last rays of the evening sun.

Joe had been laying face down on his bed but as soon as he heard his father’s soft knock on the door, he had quickly risen to his feet in respect of the older man.  Joe watched as his father moved slowly across the bedroom and sat down on the edge of his bed.  Joe watched his father’s face, hoping to catch a glimpse of something that might tell him that his father had changed his mind about continuing their ‘little discussion’.  Seeing nothing of the sort in his father’s expression, Joe gulped.

“Come here, Joseph.”  Ben’s voice was smooth and even, though inside his stomach was in knots and doing flip-flops.  No matter how many times he had had to do this in the past, he never got used to it nor did he ever enjoy being the cause of his son’s tears.  But this time, the boy had left him with no other recourse.  Restriction to the house, yard or even his room had failed to deliver the message to the boy’s brain, lying for any reason would not be tolerated.  Ben was now resorting to his last method, which he faced with as much dread as what he was reading on the young face of the boy that stood trembling before him.

“Son,” began the father, “do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Joe looked into his father’s eyes, his own eyes filling slowly with tears and slowly dropped his head,  “No, sir.”

Ben’s lips were drawn into a fine straight line.  He had been hoping, even praying that Little Joe would open up to him, but it was plain to see that the boy was not going to comply.

“Then I have a few things I want to say to you before we proceed.”  Ben watched his son’s face.  ‘At least he is respectful enough to meet me eye to eye,’ thought Ben when Joe again raised his head and studied his father’s face.

“Joseph, you are aware that I know you have lied to me, again, I might add,” Ben told the boy.  “I know for a fact that you were up at the butte, after I plainly told you not to, you chose to disobey my orders and go anyway.  For that I am very angry, I told you it was too dangerous to stray that far from the house with all that has been going on.  But you ignored the warning, which was your first offense.  Your second offense and the most severe was your lying.”

Ben watched the tears as they rolled down the boy’s cheeks.  He watched the quivering chin, the chewing of the lower lip, and the lone foot that seemed to be digging into the rug that covered the floor and his heart could not stop its self from softening, but not to the point of foregoing the punishment.  

“Would you like to explain to me why you lied?” questioned Ben watching as Joe’s head fell to rest on his chest in order to hide his tears from his father.

Joe shook his head no, unable to voice the reply for fear of throwing himself on his father’s mercy and spilling his guts about the whole incident that had taken place that had left him in total fear of loosing his entire family.

“Then I have no other alternative than to carry out my promise.  I told you just last week that if I caught you in another lie, you would receive a thrashing that would leave you standing for several days.  And you promised me then that it would not happen again.  Do you remember making that promise to me, Joseph?” asked Ben as he moved to the chest of drawers and removed a nightshirt for Joe to put on.

Joe briefly looked into his father’s eyes and just as quickly, dropped his head.  “Yes, sir,” he barely whispered.

“Was that promise also a lie, young man?”  Ben handed the nightshirt to Joe and stood waiting for his answer as Joe removed his shirt and slipped the nightshirt over his head, knowing what would soon be coming.

“No, sir,” the sob caught in his throat.  When he had made that promise, he had intended to keep it, but things had happened since then and now he had not only lied to his father, he had also broken his promise.  Joe’s heart began crumbling inside and he choked back a second sob as he allowed his trousers to drop to the floor and stepped out of them.

“I wonder if you realize just how disappointed I am in you right now?  I had hoped that our last little discussion would have made you stop and think about your actions, but obviously I was mistaken.  I find myself in a very uncomfortable position right this minute, Joseph.  I do not take pleasure in doing to you what you have forced me into doing; I want you to understand that.  This hurts me as much as it hurts you; remember that when this is over.  Now come here,” finished Ben as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Joe stood frozen to the spot, unable to move.  “Pa,” he mumbled,  “I really am sorry.”  

Ben watched again the quivering of the chin, the sadness in the hazel eyes, the tears that rolled down the cherub little face and almost relented in giving the punishment but pushed the urge aside.  “Are you truly sorry for lying, or are you just sorry you got caught?”

His father’s words took Joe by surprise and he jerked his face up to look into his father’s eyes, wondering how his father always seemed to know what he was thinking.  Best not add another lie to the present, thought Joe.  Joe sniffed his nose and wiped away his tears with the back of his sleeve.  “I guess both,” he answered honestly.

Ben felt himself smile inside, ‘well at least this time he is being truthful,’ he thought to himself.  “I’m glad to know you still have a conscience.  Would you like to explain to me why you felt it necessary to lie?”

‘Yes! Yes!’ screamed Joe’s young heart, he wanted nothing more than to tell his father the truth, his heart raced on, ‘but if I tell you the truth, it would cost you your life.’

“No sir,” answered Joe as he hung his head to hide the fear he knew his father would see written on his face.  Joe didn’t fear his father’s wrath, or not to the point of actually being in fear of his father in general, what he did fear was his father’s death if he didn’t lie.

Ben reached up taking hold of Joe’s arm and laid him across his lap.  Joe felt the first of several opened-handed whacks to his bare backside before he allowed his tears to take precedence.  The continuing stinging sensation in his rear finally caused him to cry out.

“Pa…please,” cried Joe as he began to struggle against his father’s grasp on him.  “I’m sorry…Pa…honest…ohh…please…stop,” begged the sobbing child as his father applied two more pops to his now red behind before finishing.

Ben released his hold on the boy and helped him stand to his feet.  Joe’s hands instantly went to his burning backside and rubbed gently at the fiery sensation.  Joe’s tears drenched his flushed cheeks as he hung his head in both embarrassment and humbleness, as he stood before his father unable to speak.

Ben’s heart broke at the sight of his child; he ached to gather the boy into an embrace but knew that the time was not right.  “I hope you have learned something from this, Joseph.  I hope that from now on you will be honest with me.  You have always known that I detest lying, for any reasons.  Remember, I told you a long time ago that if you tell me the truth, you will be in less trouble than if you lie, for lying will double your trouble.  Do I make myself clear?”  Ben lifted Joe’s chin so that he could look the boy in the eyes.

Joe sniffed and Ben smiled inwardly at the pout on the young face.  “Yes, sir.”  

“Okay Joseph.  The matter is closed; it’s now in the past.”  Ben brushed back a fallen curl from the boy’s brow and continued.  “You pull yourself together and I will have Hop Sing bring you a supper tray.  I think for tonight, joining us at the table would be most uncomfortable for you.”  Ben smiled and placed a reassuring hand on the slim shoulder.  

Joe looked into the face of his father, the events of the day baring down on his young shoulders and could no longer contain himself, the need to embrace the man he loved most in life at last taking control.  Suddenly his arms found their way around his father’s waist.  Ben’s arms automatically folded around his young son and Ben pulled the boy’s head to rest on his chest as he rubbed the back of the boy’s neck in a loving manner.

“I love you, Pa,” wept Joe quietly as he tightened his arms.  “And I am sorry that I had to lie to you, honest.”

Ben listened as his son made his apologies and picked up on the word that Joe used, ‘had’.  He wondered briefly what the boy had meant by that statement, why would he ‘have’ to lie to him.  Ben made a mental note to question his son about it later, right now the boy was in dire need of his reassurance.

“I love you too, son,” offered Ben surprised at the trembles that ran through his son’s body.

“I promise Pa,” said Joe looking up at his father, “I will make it up to you, I will earn your trust back, you just wait and see.”  Joe buried his face in his father’s chest again, glad to feel the strength of his father’s arms encircling him and knowing that for now, he was safe.  As bad as the spanking had been, what bothered him most was the knowledge that his father was disappointed in him, not to mention the fact that Pa was also ashamed of him.

Ben helped his son ready himself for bed with a promise that Hop Sing would soon bring up a tray bearing his supper.  Joe laid face down on his bed; his rear end being too sore to lay on and gave his father a weak smile as Ben planted a kiss on his son’s brow.  As soon as his father closed the door, Joe’s reserve broke down once again and he buried his head in his pillow and cried.

When Joe’s tears were spent he laid awake and thought back to earlier in the day when he had ridden up to the butte.   He had watched as the four men had cut away at the new fencing that his father, brother’s and himself had worked so hard to put up just three days earlier.  Joe had been so brazen as to ride right up to the men and question them about their activities.  They had not taken kindly to being interrogated by the fourteen-year-old and before Joe had realized what was taking place, he had been roughly pulled from his horse and thrown to the ground.  One man had even kicked him in the back causing him to cry out in pain.  As he attempted to roll away from the assault, another man had jerked him to his feet and grabbed him by both arms shaking him so hard that his head bounced backward and forward until he became so dizzy that he had trouble standing.  If the man had not maintained his grip on his arms, he would have fallen to the ground.  With the bearded man’s face inches from his own, he had been screamed at that should he tell anyone, especially his father what he had seen that day, they would kill his family, starting with the mighty Ben Cartwright and then his two older sons.  Joe had felt the terror run through his veins as the man spat his threats into his face.  The third man had chuckle at the look on Joe’s face and grabbing his free arm; the man had spun Joe around to face him.

“I’ll make ya watch, when we kill’em too.  It won’t be a purty sight, what we’ll do ta’em,” spat the skinny man the other’s had referred to as Slim.  “And when we’re dun with’em, I’ll skin ya alive with this!”  

Slim pulled a long bladed hunting knife from the sheath that he wore fastened to his belt and waved it in Joe’s face.  Joe’s fear had taken over his body and he felt himself tremble as the man continued to hold his arm in a death like grip.  This only caused the man to laugh in his face before slapping him across the mouth and shoving him towards his horse.

“You git outta here brat, and ‘member what I told ya.  Ya tell a sole what ya seed here today, ya ole man and them brothers of yourn will be dead, ya hear me?” threatened Slim.  

The men made threatening moves toward him and he quickly turned his pinto around and raced for home, vowing to himself not to breathe a word to his family about what he had seen.  It had taken the entire ride home for him to get control of his fear and quiet his body enough to stop his trembling.  By the time he had reached the ranch, he had begun to feel a little better and by the time he had stabled his horse, he was calm enough he felt as if he could manage to get through supper and excuse himself to his room.  He had not planned on his father already knowing that he had disobeyed his order of staying away from the butte until things had settled down with the opposing ranchers.  Nor had he anticipated his middle brother watching him return from the forbidden area.  As strange as it seemed, Hoss had somehow managed to miss the exchange between the small group of men and his youngest brother.

Joe knew the instant that he had stepped into the house that he was in trouble.  His father stood just inside the door waiting with folded arms and a stern look on his face that spelled doom to the wayward lad.

“JOSEPH,” Pa had bellowed, sending up red flags in Joe’s young mind.

“Yes sir?” Joe responded weakly, the fear returning to invade his body.  He fought to maintain eye contact with his father, to drop his head now would be to admit guilt to whatever it was his father suspected him of having done.

“Nice of you to come home,” began Ben, keeping his eyes tuned on his son’s face.

Joe noted the enraged look and the darkness of his father’s brown eyes as he fought to keep eye contact and a look of innocence on his face.  Joe wanted to check the time on the old grandfather clock next to the door but didn’t dare take his eyes from his father’s face; but he was sure he wasn’t late.

“Would you like to tell me where you have been?”  Ben’s voice was getting louder as his apparent anger rose.  Joe wondered briefly what had set his temper to blazing; there was no way that his father could have already found out that he had been to the butte, could there?

“Just out,” stammered Joe.  Joe cast worried eyes at his middle brother and saw Hoss roll his eyes upward.  ‘Wrong answer,’ thought Joe as he turned in Adam’s direction.  Adam’s head was bent downward as he pinched the bridge of his nose and was gently shaking his head back and forth.

“I am well aware of that, Joseph, but OUT WHERE?” shouted his father as his anger spilled over the imaginary rim that was supposed to contain the explosive emotion.

“Pa, why are you so mad?  What did I do now?” questioned Joe, not understanding his father’s rage.

“Joseph, have you been up to the butte after I specifically told you not to go there?” demanded Ben stepping closer and cupping Joe’s chin in his hands as it began to quiver.



As Joe fought to find a more comfortable position on the bed, his thoughts turned to the day that he had helped his father and brothers stretch the wire fence and what Pa had told him about how some of the ranchers felt about his using the new barbed-wire fencing.

His father had explained to him that some of the rancher’s did not like using the new type of fencing for holding in their cattle and many had made verbal objections, some had even been threatening.  Ben had also explained that he had tried to make the men understand that where he was using the wire fencing was well inside the boundaries of the Ponderosa, therefore should not be of any concern or harm to those who objected.

Some ranchers feared that their cattle might become entangled in the barbed wire and could be injured by the sharp barbs that protruded if they happened to roam too far from their own ranches.  Ben had told them that they need not worry about their own cattle for they would not be anywhere near his new fencing but he had still been met with opposition.  A fight had almost occurred until Ben had demanded that they leave his property promptly.  The men had turned and headed back towards their own ranches but the leader of the hostile men stopped and shouted out one last warning.

“This is far from settled, Cartwright.  You haven’t heard the end of this.”  With that the horse was kicked hard in the flanks and galloped off to catch up with the others.

Joe turned over on his side, being careful not to put any pressure on his sore bottom and shut his eyes.  He wanted nothing more than to forget the events of the day that had ended in being put across his father’s lap as if he had been a small child.  Joe wondered if his father’s reaction would have been the same had he confessed to what he had been witness too earlier in the day.  Joe shivered at the thought, he was still in fear that those men would return and do to his family what they had promised.  Joe squeezed his eyes tightly shut and tried to shake the apprehension from his body.  The punishment had hurt and humiliated him but Joe reasoned that it had been worth it in order to protect those he loved.  Somehow Joe managed to fall asleep long before Hop Sing brought in his supper.  When the little servant saw that his favorite number three son was already asleep, he carefully covered the boy with his blankets and returned to his kitchen carrying the uneaten meal.

Adam had sat up reading far into the night, much later than he had meant too.  The new book that had just arrived had been so interesting that he had found it nearly impossible to put it down.  Finally realizing that if he didn’t lay the book aside soon, it would be morning and he would have a full days work ahead of him with little or no sleep.  Adam had just turned the lamp’s wick down when the screams from down the hall reached his ears.  Quickly he bolted from his bed and headed for his younger brother’s bedroom.  As he pushed opened the door the moon’s soft glow cast it’s shadow across the young boy’s bed.  Joe was sitting up in the bed fighting off an imaginary intruder.  His arms were flinging about his head as he fought with his demons.

“No, No, stop, you can’t kill them,” cried out Joe to his foes,  “No!  You promised, I didn’t tell, honest.  Stop! Please stop!” screamed Joe as the tears ran down his face.

Quickly Adam grabbed his brother’s arms and held them tightly as the boy continued to thrash about on the bed.  Adam spoke in a calm voice trying to soothe the frightened child and wake him up at the same time.

“Shh…Joe.  Wake up little buddy, you’re having a bad dream,” cooed Adam drawing Joe into a firm embrace.  “Joe, wake up.”

Joe stopped his struggles and his screams turned to sobs as he opened his eyes and recognized his older brother.  “Adam…they were trying to kill us,” wept Little Joe as he buried his head against Adam’s chest.

Adam held Joe closely rubbing his hand up and down the younger boy’s back in a soothing motion.  “Joe, it was just a bad dream, buddy.  Everything is okay now, just try to calm down.”

“But Adam, they were trying to kill you and Hoss and Pa.  I…I…could stop them.”  Joe clung to his brother as the trembles racked his body and he fought to control his tears.

“Joe, who was trying to kill us?” asked Adam softly.

Joe was silent for a minute trying to collect his thoughts.  Should he tell Adam the truth?  His big brother had always been there for him when he needed him and it would be so easy just to confess to Adam what had happened and let him take care of things instead of trying to deal with it his self.  Then Joe remembered Slim’s threat and what he and his friends would do to the Cartwright family if he spilled the beans on them.

Joe sniffed a couple of times and pulled away from Adam’s embrace as he forced a small smile onto his face.  “I don’t remember, I…I…couldn’t see their faces in my dream.  I’m sorry I woke ya, Adam.”  Joe tried his best to hide the sudden fear that he felt as he lay back down and closed his eyes, hoping that his brother would think him all right and leave him alone.

Adam tucked the blankets around Joe and stood from the bed.  “Are you okay now buddy?  Want me to sit with you for awhile?” offered Adam.

Joe opened his eyes and faked another smile, “No…thanks, I’m fine.  Why don’t you go back to bed?”

“If you’re sure?” Adam moved toward the door as he spoke giving Joe a brief smile.

“I’m sure Adam,” replied Joe nodding his head.  Joe suddenly realized he had just told two more lies, he really did want his brother to stay with him and he really wasn’t fine.

Adam had the door almost closed when Joe suddenly stopped him.  “Adam?”  Adam stuck his head back in the door, “I love ya,” whispered Little Joe.

“I love you too, Joe.”  Adam closed the door and turned to his room.  Ben was waiting for him in the darkened hallway and Adam almost ran directly into his father.

“Sorry Pa, didn’t see you standing there,” laughed Adam.

“Everything okay with your brother?” inquired Ben.

Adam scratched his head, “Yes sir, he just had a bad dream…something about someone trying to kill all of us.  When I asked him who it was, he suddenly was ready to go back too sleep.”

“You find that strange?” Ben asked watching Adam’s concerned face in the dim light.

“No, I guess not.  But it’s not like Joe to want to be left alone after one of his nightmares.  I got the feeling that he was trying to get me out of his room,” explained Adam.  “Oh, don’t worry Pa, by morning, he’ll have forgotten all about it.  Let’s get some shut-eye, I’m bushed.”  Adam patted his father’s shoulder and moved on down the hall.

“Good night, son, God bless,” Ben called softly after Adam.  Ben reached for his door but hesitated momentarily before going back to Joe’s room and quietly slipping through the door.  He eased his way to Joe’s bedside and peered down at his son.  Joe appeared to now be sleeping peacefully, traces of his tears making his cheeks damp to his father’s touch as Ben caressed his son’s face.  “Good night, Joseph,” whispered Ben leaning down to kiss his son’s brow.  Ben watched as Joe attempted to turn onto his back and winced softly in his sleep as his backside rubbed against the mattress causing Joe to turn on his side instead.

Two days later Ben sent Hoss and Adam into town after supplies.  He had restricted Joe to the yard but had decided that morning to have the boy accompany him to check some of the fences.  He had received word by one of the hands that part of the new fencing around the butte area had been torn down.  Ben was in hopes that by taking Joe with him, it would give them a chance to talk and perhaps the boy would open up to him.  Ben sensed that something was eating away at the boy; he had been so sullen and withdrawn the last couple of days.  Ben also had seen the way that Joe had jumped every time that someone called his name, knocked on the door or made a loud noise.  Something had the boy spooked and Ben was determined to find out what was causing it.  Both nights since Joe’s punishment, Joe had awakened the family with his screams, calling out that they not be killed.  This had seemed to spark an undue amount of terror in the boy and last night; the nightmare had been so bad that he had had to stay until Joe had fallen back to sleep.

“Ready to ride, son?” asked Ben giving Little Joe a warm smile as he mounted his horse.

“Yes sir,” replied Joe as he slipped his boot into the stirrup and pulled himself up.  Any other time the boy would have spring-mounted his pinto but this day his backside was still recovering from the spanking he had received.  Joe tried not to look at his father.  Joe knew he was being watched and it made him slightly uncomfortable.  His nightmares had been playing havoc with his mind, he was scared that the four men he had run into two days ago would return and do to his family what they had promised and he fought to hide that fear from his father and brothers.  If their questioning persisted, Joe was afraid that he would break down and tell them the truth, and he convinced himself, he could not allow himself to give in to the urge.  Now his father had insisted that he join him in riding fence, something that Joe did not want to do.  He had tried to talk his father into allowing him to stay home and work on the chores but Ben would hear nothing of it.  Now he was doomed to spend the whole day being interrogated by his father and Joe was in fear of losing his reserve along with his temper.

They had almost reached the butte when Ben pulled Buck to a stop and dismounted.  “Why don’t we rest for awhile, son?” Ben pulled the cork from his canteen taking a long drink of the cool water.

Joe remained on his horse, refusing to give his father time to start his questioning.  “Why?  I’m not tired.  Besides, we don’t have much further to go.  Can’t we just go and get this over with?”  

Ben noted that Joe’s tone of voice had taken on a bit of sarcasm slowly bringing his anger to the surface.  Ben fought to control the vicarious emotion, not wanting to start the day in an argument with his youngest son.

“Joseph, I just thought that we might talk, that’s all.  Now will you please get down?” Ben gently ordered and watched as the frown lines etched into the brow of the youngster.

“Pa, I dun told ya.  I don’t know why I’m having those nightmares.  And I already explained to you that when I do have’em, I don’t remember anything about them.  So, stop asking me…please,” he added as an after thought when he saw the dark look come into his father’s eyes.  Joe knew he had just lied to his father again, but could the man not understand?  He didn’t want to talk about it, he wanted to forget, just forget the whole incident ever happened.

Ben reached out his hand and laid it on his son’s shoulder.  “Joseph, I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to be so persistent, but something is bothering you son.  Can’t you tell me about it?  I might just be able to help you.”  Ben lifted Joe’s chin to better read his face.

Joe swallowed the lump that rose in his throat and hoped that his father could not hear how loudly his heart was beating.  His body shivered slightly and he tried to remove his chin from his father’s hand, those dark penetrating eyes were looking into his very soul, but Ben held firmly.

“There’s nothing wrong, Pa.  Why don’t ya believe me?”  Joe managed to jerk his head free of his father’s hold and turn his back to his father, hiding the fear he knew was showing on his face.

Ben relented; it was no use trying to talk to Joe.  He was not getting anywhere and he didn’t want to fight with the boy.  Ben walked up behind Joe who had his forehead pressed into Cochise’s neck, and laid both hands on Joe’s shoulders.  Ben squeezed gently massaging the boy’s muscles that he could feel had tensed.

“Okay son.  We’ll let it drop, for now.  I just want you to promise me that when you are ready to talk, you will come to me.”  Ben turned Joe around to face him, the quivering chin and the tear filled eyes, all seen by the father.  Ben did not wait for an answer; instead he pulled Little Joe into his arms and hugged him not wanting to let on to his son that he was aware that the questions had stirred up a sensitive response in him.

“Come on, we have work to do.  That ole fence won’t repair its self,” Ben released his son and reached for Buck’s reins that had been tied to a near by willow tree.  Joe swiftly mounted his horse and without another word nudged the pinto into a trot.  Ben allowed Joe to lead the way and before long they arrived at the torn down fence.

Joe nervously scanned the horizon while Ben removed the supplies from the backpacks needed to repair the fence.   “Let’s get started son,” instructed Ben already bending to pick up one of the downed fence posts.

Ben watched as Joe worked and repeatedly surveyed the surrounding area.  Ben caught himself searching the distant hills not knowing what he was searching for, but it was plain to him that his son was on the lookout.  They had just about finished the last repair when Ben’s attention was drawn to the four approaching riders.  Joe had seen his father’s head jerk up and he turned to see what held his father’s attention.

“Well lookit what we got here, our little friend from the other day,” laughed Slim in a snarled grin as he climbed down from his horse and stood in front of Little Joe.  “How ya doin’ kid?”  Slim’s face was inches from Joe’s and Joe could smell the man’s bad breath as he spoke.

Joe tried to back away from the offending odor but bumped into the bearded man in the attempt to get away.  Suddenly he felt strong hands grab his shoulders and roughly spin him around as he fought to find his father’s face.

“Leave the boy alone,” called Ben who struggled to free him from the two pairs of strong hands that suddenly held him captive.  He and Joe had been working at repairing the fence that had been destroyed when the four riders had ridden up.  Not knowing who or what they wanted, Ben had instructed his young son to stand behind him, offering little protection against the four strange looking men.

Ben had heard Joe’s sudden intake of air as the four approached and when he turned to look back at the boy, he was startled to see the look of shear terror that was on his face.  Before he could question his son, the men were on him and before he could put up much of a fight, he had found himself disarmed and held tightly in the grasp of two of the men.  His heart had jumped into his throat when the other two had grabbed his son and began mentally tormenting the boy.

“Well, looks like ya broke ya promise to us kid,” snarled Slim as he snatched the boy roughly by the front of his shirt.

Panic filled Joe’s heart and he fought to control his tears.  “I didn’t tell no body nothing, honest mister, ya gotta believe me,” cried Joe wishing that his brothers were here to help he and his father.

“I think ya lyin’,” snapped Slim and slapped Joe hard across the face.  Ben fought to break away from his captors in order to protect his son but the two men held him with superior strength and as he fought against them they twisted his arms backward behind him until he cried out from the agony and was forced to cease struggling.

Joe was knocked to the ground from the force of the blow and as Slim reached down to grab for him, Joe began scooting backward in a futile attempt at escape. “Leave us alone, I dun told ya, I didn’t tell my pa anything, honest,” cried Joe.

Slim managed to grab Joe by the head of the hair, causing him to cry out loudly before jerking him to his feet and giving him a hard shake.  “Shut up kid.  I told ya what we would do, if’n ya ole man found out about us.  Now ya gonna watch, I have something special in mind for him.”

Joe saw the evil look that suddenly clouded the man’s eyes causing the hair to rise on his arms.  Joe watched in terror as the man’s face became distorted and took on the appearance of a madman as his own body began to tremble with fright and dread at the man’s implications.

“No, please, you can’t kill him, you promised.  I didn’t tell him you cut the wire, honest, I didn’t,” cried Joe but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Slim’s cruel laughter sent shivers of fear throughout Joe’s body as Slim shoved him over to the forth man who held him securely and watched in horror as Slim moved toward his father.  Joe’s voice reached several octaves higher as he continued to beg the men not to kill his father but when that produced no satisfaction Joe fought and kicked at the man who held him until the man finally tired of his game and delivered a fist to Joe’s face.  Joe was immediately knocked to the ground unconscious and his outcries silenced.

“I’ll kill you for that, mister,” swore Ben as Slim came to stand inches from his face.

Slim back handed Ben hard across the mouth causing his lip to split open and bleed.  Ben turned to face his aggressor, as angry darts of hate shot from his dark eyes.  “You’ll have to do better than that if you don’t want me to hunt you down and kill you like the animal you are.”

Before Ben could finish his sentence, Slim punched him again, this time in the mid-section causing Ben to spit droplets of blood into the unshaven face before he doubled over with the pain.  “Tie his hands behind his back,” ordered Slim.  “Make it quick before someone sees us.”

His men did as they were instructed and held Ben in an upright position facing their boss as they waited for further instructions.  Slim jerked Ben’s head up so that he could look into the dark eyes, “You were warned about using that fencing.  Now we’re gonna hav’ta teach ya a lesson,” Slim told Ben, an evil smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  Turning to another of the group, he issued more orders.  

“Get me that roll of barbed wire, we’re gonna wrap him up real purty like,” laughed Slim watching the expression on Ben’s face turn to apprehension and then realization.  Ben had understood Slim’s meaning and though he was not afraid to die, he did not want his son to be witness to what was about to happen to him.

As Slim moved in close with the roll of wire, small beads of perspiration appeared on Ben’s brow and he swallowed the bile he felt rising up from his stomach and into his throat.  He glanced briefly in Joe’s direction and was relieved to see that the boy was still out cold.  At least, thought Ben, for the time being he won’t have to watch my persecution.

Ben fought to control his rage and his panic; he knew what the sharp barbs would do to his flesh when they started cutting into him.  “You must be out of your mind.  You’ll never get away with this.”

“Maybe not, but you won’t be around to find out.”  Using his gloves, Slim began unrolling the wire and moved around behind Ben.  

Ben fought to move away but with a man on each side of him holding him firmly in place his struggles were ineffective.  He felt the first bite of pain as Slim forced the palm of one hand opened and laid the wire across his hand forcing his fingers to close around the sharp spikes beginning to walk around him pulling the wire from the spool as he moved.  Ben fought to keep from crying out in pain as the barbs continued to assault his body but each time a sharp barb tore into his flesh, an involuntary cry would force its way passed his lips.

Slim continued making his rounds drawing the wire about his victim as he circled Ben.  Ben screamed as the spiked wire tore into the flesh of his upper arms, stomach, mid-section, and chest as the wire was pulled tighter.  Once he caught a glimpse of Joe as the boy regained consciousness and saw the look of horror on his young face when he realized what the men were doing.

Joe screamed and jumped to his feet running toward his father, only to be knocked to the ground for the second time by his assailant.  Joe tried to rise but the bearded man struck him from behind, his fist landing between Joe’s shoulders forcing him to stay on the ground.  Joe watched in horror as the pain overtook his father and Ben’s knees buckled beneath him.

The last thing that Ben heard before he passed out was his young son’s screams, pleading with the men to stop.  As Slim finished he cut the wire and twisted the end around a strand at Ben’s back.  Blood dripped from each spot on Ben’s torn flesh where the barbs had sank their sharp points into the skin.  Slim laughed in satisfaction as his two cronies released their hold on the entangled man allowing him to fall to the ground with a thud.
Even in his unconscious state, Ben’s wail of anguish could be heard by all as his injured and bloody body made contact with the hard earth driving part of the barbs deeper into his already butchered flesh.

Joe sat paralyzed in fear, unable to move or speak as the four men mounted their horses and rode away without a word or look in his direction.  Joe’s eyes never left the face of his father and it was only when Ben moaned loudly that Joe finally came to his senses. Joe began screaming at the top of his lungs as he ran to his father’s side.  Dropping to his knees he began grabbing the barbed wire trying to remove it from around his father not knowing that he caused even more agony to the already tormented man.

“PA!” screamed Joe as the tears ran from his face and dripped off his chin.  “I’m sorry Pa, I’m so sorry,” wept the hysterical boy as he struggled with the wire that was bound around his father.  Joe’s hands and fingers were slashed opened and bleeding, the barbs cutting deeply into his tender young skin but Joe felt no pain, so intent was he to free his father.

“PA! PA!” Joe screamed out over and over until his voice became so hoarse that he could barely speak.  Joe looked on in shock as the blood continued its steady flow from the cuts that were too numerous to count until totally spent; he sank heavily to the ground beside his father and lamented loudly, the sobs racking his body.

Joe wiped at his runny nose with the sleeve of his shirt and tried to raise his father up.  The movement only caused the older man more distress and when Ben screamed out it brought the boy more tears.  Joe was terrified, he knew he had to go for help but fear of leaving his father was tearing away at his insides.

Ben began to moan loudly and when Joe saw the eyelids begin to flutter he moved closer to his father so that he could hear what Ben was trying to say.

“Get…h…help,” Ben’s request was spoken so softly that Joe was not even sure that he had heard his father speak.  

Ben welcomed the blackness that engulfed him like a shroud about his body.  The pain in his tormented body was excruciating; more than he had ever known in his entire lifetime and the blackness was his refuge in which he could escape.

Joe pulled himself to his feet running to mount his horse.  He had no other choice, his father’s life hung in the balance, he had to ride for help and the Ponderosa was the nearest place to find help for his beloved father.  With that the only thought in his mind, Joe kicked hard at Cochise’s flanks urging her into a gallop knowing that Adam and Hoss would be back from town by now and would be waiting at the ranch for his and their father’s return.  

“Adam!  Hoss!” screamed out Joe in a raspy voice as this horse slid to a stop in front of the house.  Joe all but fell from the saddle and was on his knees trying to stand when Adam and Hoss ran from the house at the sounds of their brother’s cries. Both brothers stopped in their tracks when they saw the blood that covered the entire front of the boy’s shirt and seemed to drip from the very tip ends of his fingers.

“Joe, what in the world happened to ya, young’n?” cried Hoss as he grabbed the boy into his arms.

Joe pulled back his blood soaked dirty hands and cried out when Hoss’ large hands closed around his, feeling for the first time the intense pain from the cuts that was caused by the wire.

Joe’s breathing had become irregular causing him to have a hard time speaking.  “Pa…
Adam…ya gotta help him…he’s dying Adam…he’s dying,” sobbed Joe turning to his older brother and falling into his arms.

“Joe, calm down boy, tell us, what happened?  Where is Pa?”  Adam held Joe back so that he could look into the boy’s face.  “What happened to you hands, Joe?  They are cut to ribbons.”  Adam gently turned both smaller hands over in his and was amazed that the boy seemed immune to the damaged and torn flesh that hung about his hands.

Breathing hard Joe cried out his story.  “They jump us Adam…they knocked me out and when I woke up…they…they…Adam ya gotta help Pa.” Joe flung himself into his brother’s arms again and wrapped himself around Adam’s neck.

Adam could feel the tremors that racked the younger boy’s body and it scared him.  Something was bad wrong, and the only way that he could find out was from his terrified little boy.  Gently Adam pried Joe’s arms from around his neck and stood the boy in front facing him.

“Joe,” Adam gently shook the boy, “We can’t help Pa if you don’t tell us where he is.”  Hoss stood behind Joe placing a reassuring hand on each of the boy’s shoulders and waited with baited breath.

Joe took a deep breath to calm himself and wiped at his tears.  “Up at the butte, we were fixing that fence that got cut.  Four men jumped us and they tied Pa up…in the…barbed wire fencing.”  Joe gulped for more air, “We gotta hurry…please…there’s so much blood Adam…please hurry,” wailed Joe.

“Dear God,” whispered Adam.  “Hoss get the wagon, I’ll take Joe to Hop Sing, he can stay here until we get back and…”

“NO!” screamed Little Joe, “I’m goin’ back with you, I gotta help Pa.”

“Joe, I don’t have time to stand here and argue with you.  You will stay with Hop Sing while Hoss and I get Pa.  Now I don’t want to hear any more about it,” ordered Adam as he took Joe by the arm and started toward the house.

Joe had no such intentions of staying at home, his father needed him and Joe felt responsible for what had happened to his father.  Suddenly he pulled free of Adam’s hold on his arm and ran to his horse.  Adam caught unaware by the sudden move was slow in responding and by the time he realized what his little brother was doing, Joe had mounted his horse and was heading out of the yard.

“Damn,” cursed Adam as he hurried to the house to get medical supplies that they might need.  “Hop Sing,” yelled Adam as he entered the kitchen.  “Pa’s been hurt, go for the doctor and meet us back here as soon as you can, and hurry, bring Roy Coffee back with you.”

“Yes sir, Mista Adam, Hop Sing hurry,” the little oriental hurried from the house to do Adam’s bidding and was on the way to town as Hoss and Adam climbed into the wagon headed for the butte where their father lay clinging precariously to life.

Joe jumped from his horse and ran to his father the minute that Cochise stopped.  Ben lay as he had been before Joe had gone for help.  His face was pale, his breathing shallow, and Joe’s eyes widened in fear at the blood that pooled around his father’s body.  With the back of his hand he caressed his father’s brow as he whispered out his father’s name.

“Pa…Pa…please don’t die.  I’m sorry Pa…I didn’t know this would happen.  They promised Pa…Pa…please open your eyes,” wept Joe as the sobs racked his body.  Joe who was on his knees laid down next to his father in the dirt and gently rested his arm across his father’s neck, the only place on his upper body that the sharp barbs had not cut into.

When Adam and Hoss arrived in the wagon they found Joe lying with their father and could hear his soft whimpers and appeals as they stepped nearer.  Hoss’ eyes instantly filled with tears at the sight of his father lying motionless and so deathlike wrapped in the sharp painful confines of the wire fencing.  His scream shattered the stillness that surrounded him scattering birds in all directions as he covered both his eyes with his large hands and fell to his knees beside the dying man.

Adam turned his head from the grotesque sight that his father represented.  As the acid filled his mouth, Adam dropped his head and forfeited the contents of his stomach to the hard earth beneath his feet.  As soon has he had regained control of him self, Adam stepped close to Joe and pulled his brother into a sitting position and forced the boy to turn away his head as he shielded his face from the sight.  With his free hand he sought his father’s neck for a pulse and breathed a long sigh of relief when a weak one was found.  Hoss joined both brothers on the other side of his father and again his face paled at seeing his father’s prone figure.

“Hoss,” said Adam quietly, forcing his voice to remain calm and steady, “get the medical supplies and those wire cutters from the wagon.  We have to try to get some of this wire off of him.”

Hoss was back in quick order with Adam’s requested items and handed them to him.  “Want me to help you sit him up?” Hoss asked the tears still clinging to his cheeks.

Adam’s dark sorrowful eyes swiftly scanned his father’s body before replying.  “No, better leave him laying down.  If we force him to sit up, the barbs will only dig in deeper than what they already are.  We need to keep him as still as possible to keep them from doing that.”  

Adam turned his head to look at his younger brother when he felt Joe’s body begin to shiver and looked up into Hoss’ eyes.  “Take the boy to the wagon and see what you can do for his hands, the blood is still seeping.  Wrap them for now if you have too while I start cutting these wires.”

Hoss stepped across his father’s body and gently lifted the whimpering boy into his arms.  Joe made no effort to resist his brother’s strong embrace as his whispered plea, that his father not give in to death continued to be voiced.  Hoss held Joe’s body close to his, not caring that the front of his shirt became covered with the boy’s blood.  Joe momentarily closed his eyes, leaned his head against his brother’s chest, and listened to the steady beat of the heart.

“It was my fault,” stammered Joe burying his face deeper into the leather vest that Hoss wore.  “It was my fault.”

“Joe, tweren’t no body’s fault boy, especially yours,” Hoss softly whispered as he sat Joe on the back of the wagon and reached for the clean strips of cloth to wrap his brother’s lacerated and bleeding hands.

Joe turned his sad tear stained face to look at his brother, “You don’t understand Hoss,” cried Joe in a choked voice, “I lied to Pa…and it got him hurt.”  Joe’s voiced cracked and his shoulders began to shake as he continued.  “If I had only told Pa the truth, none of this would have happened.”  Joe raised his head slightly and sought his brother’s eyes, “don’t ya understand Hoss, it was my fault.”

“Joe, you had no way of knowing this was goin’ happen,” Hoss gently began wrapping the cloths around Joe’s injured hands, sympathy for the frightened boy and his injured father plainly showing in his crystal blue eyes, “Pa ain’t gonna hold ya responsible, honest Punkin, he wouldn’t do that.”  Hoss tied a small knot in the cloth and raised Joe’s quivering chin with his large but gentle hands.

“Pa’s gonna be okay baby, try to calm down,” Hoss placed his arm around the slim shoulders and drew the boy to him, holding him while as he fought to control his own tears.

Joe suddenly pulled free of Hoss’ embrace as his father’s screams pierced his ears.  Joe jumped from the wagon and ran to his father’s side falling to his knees next to Adam.  Hoss too had returned to Ben’s side and both younger boys watched in horror as Adam tried carefully to untangle a short strand of the wire from Ben’s mid-section.  

Joe made a grab at Adam’s hand with his own bandaged hand in an attempt to stop Adam from removing the wire.  “STOP! Can’t ya see your hurting him?” Joe screamed at his brother as his tears spilled over the rim of his eyes and onto his cheeks.  He fought to hold on to his brother’s hands keeping them from returning to the wire and causing in his mind, more pain and suffering to his father.

“Joe, stop,” Adam pushed Joe’s hand away using more force than he had intended causing the boy to cry out in his own discomfort that had suddenly awakened in his hands and fingers.

“I’m sorry buddy,” apologized Adam instantly, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.  And I don’t mean to hurt Pa, but I have to remove as much of this damn wire as I can before we can get him home.  Do you understand?”  Adam glanced at Little Joe’s face as he went back to work on the sharp barbs still embedded in their father’s swollen flesh.

Hoss pulled Joe to his feet, swept him up into his arms and carried him for the second time to the wagon where he placed him in the back and covered him with a blanket.

“You stay put young’n, you hear me?  I need to help Adam, the sooner we get that wire off Pa, the sooner we can get him home where the doctor can take a look at him,” instructed Hoss.  When Joe did not answer, Hoss squeezed the boy’s shoulders to the point that the boy cried out softly.  “Ya hear, Punkin?” Hoss asked again as he turned from the boy and went to give Adam what help he could offer.

Joe nodded his head in agreement, and watched as Hoss returned to Adam’s side.  Joe drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them as he circled his legs with his hands that had begun to throb with pain. Joe tried not to raise his head and watch as his brothers slowly cut away at the menacing wire that remained wrapped about Ben’s body.  Each and every time that his father’s screams reached his ears, Joe covered his head with his arms and cried.  After several attempts of shutting out the pitiful wails, Joe jumped down from the wagon and walked to his horse.  He could take no more of his father’s suffering and the need to distance himself from the anguish took precedence in his mind.  Spurring his mount into a gallop, Joe rode past his brother’s without uttering a word and headed for home.

“Joe, come back here,” shouted Adam rising from Ben’s side to stare after his brother’s retreating back.  “Damn, can’t he ever do as he’s told?” cursed Adam looking into Hoss’ blue eyes.

“Aw Adam, the kid’s scared, and he thinks he’s responsible for this,” Hoss pointed to his father who had begun to stir about bringing his attention back to the man on the ground.

“Pa,” Hoss whispered, “be still, please. You’re gonna be fine.”  Hoss gave his father a weak smile and dabbed at the sweat that had collected on the older man’s brow.

“Joe?” Ben tried to ask before the darkness claimed him again.

Adam and Hoss exchanged worried looks and resumed their work on the aggravating wires.  It took both young men well over two hours to cut away what they could of the barbed wire that had held their father in its clutches.  Blood began to seep from many of the opened gashes about Ben’s body.  In spots, his torn and ripped shirt was squelching some of the blood flow due to being embedded over the cuts by the barbs.  

Adam covered Ben with several blankets and together he and Hoss carried Ben’s body to the wagon where they placed him gently onto the blanket that covered the thick pile of hay that Hoss had tossed in to make a suitable bed in which to bring their father home.  Adam climbed into the back with his father and Hoss jumped into the front taking the reins in his hands.  

“Ready?” asked Hoss glancing over his shoulder to be sure Adam had both himself and their father settled.

“Let’s go Hoss, he’s lost a lot of blood and we need to get him to the doctor,” answered Adam.  

Hoss slapped the reins down on the teams back and urged them forward.  The trip was slow going, Hoss being careful not to hit the ruts in the narrow winding road and jostle his father around causing more misery.


Cochise came to a stop when he felt his rider drop the reins and lean over his neck.  Joe had trained the horse to such perfection in such matters until the horse knew the warning signs.  Joe gasped for air to fill his lungs as the pain in his hands began to reach excruciating proportions and the acids from his stomach boiled into his mouth spewing over landing at the horse’s hooves.  Cochise sidestepped slightly as Joe began to slip from the saddle onto the ground barely missing the puddle of vomit.  Joe raised his weary body just enough to drag himself away from the offending smell before collapsing completely.

Joe lay where he had fallen for over an hour before Roy, Hop Sing and Doctor Martin found him.  They had been waiting at the ranch for Adam and Hoss to return with Ben, each man nervously pacing the floor, when they decided to strike out on their own and meet the boys part way.  With the amount of blood that Hop Sing had informed them about that had covered Little Joe earlier, Paul Martin was sure that Ben was in serious condition himself, not to mention what shape that Little Joe might now also be in.

Paul jumped from his buggy as he, Roy and Hop Sing ran to Joe’s side.  Quickly Paul checked for a pulse and finding a strong one he ran his expert hands along the sides of Joe’s torso checking for any possible broken bones.  Pleased to see that there were none, he turned the boy onto his back.  Roy removed his own coat and rolled it up placing it under the boy’s head to make a pillow.  As Paul began to unwrap the now soiled bandages from Joe’s hands, Roy carefully brushed away the dirt and fine gravel that had collected on Joe’s face and in his hair when he had fallen from his horse.  Paul’s expression took on a grave countenance as he inspected the wounds to the boy’s hands and he passed that concern on to the other two men who also were at his side watching his every move.

Hoss pulled the team to a stop when he neared the small group of men bending over the prone body of his youngest brother who lay at the side of the road.  “Adam, look, it’s Roy and Paul, they found Little Joe,” Hoss called over his shoulder as he jumped from the wagon and ran to his brother’s side.

“What happened?” asked Hoss kneeling down next to Joe and lightly stroking the young boy’s face, a look of fear furrowing into his brow.

“He must have fallen off his horse, we just found him a few minutes ago.  Where’s Ben?” asked Paul glancing up at Adam as he approached the group.

“He’s in the wagon, Paul.” Adam informed him as he joined Hoss at Joe’s side.

Paul patted Adam’s back as they passed one another and moved to the back of the wagon to check on Ben.  As he climbed into the straw filled wagon, he pulled the blankets up to inspect Ben’s multiple injuries and was appalled at what he saw.

“Good God,” he muttered and had to turn his face from the sight of his old friend.  Paul, accustomed to seeing such sights had to fight to keep the contents of his stomach in place.  This was his dear and trusted friend, a man he had known for years, and the sight of seeing such a friend in this condition brought tears to his eyes.  Paul swallowed the lump that rose in his throat and willed himself to maintain control of his emotions.  “Hop Sing, bring me my bag from the buggy, please,” called Paul.

With the lump out of his throat and now in control of himself, Paul took matters into his own hands. “Hoss, you and Adam bring Joe and put him here in the wagon next to Ben.  I’ll ride back here, that way I can keep my eye on the two of them.  Hop Sing, you drive my buggy back to the ranch, Roy you can lead Joe’s horse.  Adam and Hoss can ride up front.  Come on, let’s get moving, we need to get these two home.”  

Paul barked out his orders in a military like manner causing every one to jump to attention and begin doing what Paul had instructed them to do. As they were carrying out the doctor’s orders, Paul pulled a small vile and two needles from his black bag and administer to both father and son, a small amount of morphine to dull their pain in order to make the remaining journey home more tolerable for both.

Joe was placed carefully next to his father and covered with several blankets.  His face was turned toward Ben's, each facing the other.  As Hoss clicked to the team and slapped the reins against their rumps the wagon lurched forward causing Little Joe to momentarily open his eyes.  

Joe was staring into the dark eyes of his father, who had also opened his eyes, and the eyes of each locked with those of the other.  What passed from father to son and son to father in that brief encounter, only God would ever understand.  Joe held his father’s stance until he felt the caressing touch of his father’s finger as it followed the path of a lone tear that rolled downward along the side of his nose and was stopped by the single finger before reaching his chin.  The wagon lurched again causing Joe to shut his eyes to the pain and when he opened them for the second time, Ben’s eyes had closed and his hand had fallen to the side.  Joe closed his eyes once again, this time forcing himself to remember the undying love that had shown within the brown depths during that brief instance when he had locked eyes with his father.

Paul had witnessed the exchanged between Ben and his son.  He had seen the spark of life ignited in the chocolate depths of his friend’s eyes and instantly knew that whatever unspoken message had passed between the two, Ben, though gravely injured, would fight ferociously to live and would be successful.  Paul knew of the courage and determination that was deep seeded in all the Cartwright men, the boy included, when faced with such enormous odds. He also knew that with the love each one carried in their hearts for the other, that love would be the stabilizing force to bring the older Cartwright back to his former self.

It was another good hour before the group of men arrived back at the Ponderosa ranch house.  Ben had begun to moan loudly and had, in his delirious state of mind, tried to rise up and climb from the back of the wagon.  Adam had had to move to the back to aid the doctor in restraining his father and prevent him from causing himself further injuries and pain.  Joe had rolled himself into a ball, hugging tightly to his knees in the furthermost corner of the wagon trembling with fear at the sight of his father’s struggles.  Adam had even seen his younger brother cover his ears with his bandaged hands and his blanket when Ben’s tormented screams had pierced the evening’s solitude.  Adam reached out to his brother and rested a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder and when Joe raised his head Adam noted the sadness in his brother’s hazel eyes as the tears pooled and rolled down his dirty little face.  The sight tore at Adam’s heart and he had whispered softly to his brother to be brave just a little bit longer.  Joe had wiped his tears and given Adam a tiny smile that did not reach the eyes, but Adam found comfort in the fact that at least his brother understood and was making an effort.

As soon as the wagon stopped, Hoss jumped down from the front seat and moved to help Adam and Paul carry Ben into the house.  Hop Sing hurried along in front of the men to open the doors and Roy turned his attention to caring for all of the horses.  Everyone had forgotten about the scared little boy who had buried himself under his blanket in the back of the wagon while fighting to erase the traumatic memories of the day from his mind.  

Joe had felt the wagon stop and knew that they were at last home and that soon one of his brothers would come to help him into the house.  His hands hurt more than anything that had ever hurt him before; his head hurt; and the sights and sounds that had emitted from his father during the long ride home had sent shivers of fear throughout his body.  Joe blamed himself and his lies for what had happened to his father and the thought that the man who had meant the most to him might die sent waves of terror through his heart and soul.  Joe felt the wagon move as the men removed his father’s body from the back and he heard the muffled whispers that they spoke as they had carried Ben into the house.  Joe waited, the blanket remaining over his head, still no one came for him and he felt the tears well up in his eyes as the realization that they had forgotten all about him manifested its self in his heart.  They blamed him, his heart cried, his brothers hated him, his father hated him, hell, he even hated himself.  

Joe was vaguely aware of the gentle hands that pulled him to his feet and lightly lifted him into strong arms.  The faint scent of Bay Rum reached his nose and immediately he closed his eyes as his thoughts turned to his father.   He rested his aching head into the welcoming embrace of the loving arms that now carried him.  The blanket was carefully pulled back from his head and when Joe looked up expecting to see his father’s dark chocolate eyes, he was surprised to see Adam smiling down at him.  It was then that Joe remembered his father’s injuries that had for but a short time slipped from his fogged filled mind.

“Come on Little Buddy, let’s get you inside and in the bed so that Doc can take care of those hands for you.”  Adam had seen the look that had come into his little brother’s eyes and knew that the boy had thought they had all forgotten about him.  Adam pulled the blanket around Joe and placed a kiss on the top of his head.  “Everything’s going to okay now, Joe.  I promise you.”

“Pa?” Joe asked softly watching Adam’s face for any signs of the hate he knew his older brothers must feel toward him.

“Doc is with him.  He has a lot of doctoring to do right now little buddy.  But I think Pa will be fine in time, try not to worry,” comforted Adam.

Joe could no longer contain his tears and he buried his head deeper into Adam’s chest.  Adam allowed his brother to cry and when he had him safely lying on his bed, he gently brushed back the hair that had fallen to his brow and using his fingers, wiped away the boy’s tears.

“Are your hands hurting, buddy?” Adam asked thinking that had been the reason for the sudden outburst of tears.

“A little…Adam?” Joe lowered his head, afraid to look his brother in the eyes.

Adam tenderly raised the quivering chin, “What’s wrong Joe?”

“Do you…do you hate me?” sniffed Joe.

Adam was taken by surprise, “Hate you?  No, of course not.  Why would you ask something like that?” Adam asked as he began removing Joe’s soiled clothing from about his body.  

Hop Sing appeared in the door with a pitcher of warm water ready to help Adam bathe Joe and get him ready for the doctor as soon as he finished giving his older patient sleeping and pain medication.  Paul would have to wait until Ben was totally sedated before starting with the painful removal of embedded barbs that still claimed possession of Ben’s flesh.

“It was my fault you know,” Joe looked beseechingly at his oldest brother.

Adam stopped what he was doing and sat on the edge of the bed next to Joe, “What was your fault?”

Joe rested his head on the pillows and closed his eyes, “Pa…they hurt Pa cause of me, Adam.  I lied to Pa…I should have told him what really happened that day on the butte, but they said they would kill him and you and Hoss if I told.  So I didn’t say nuthin’ and they tried to kill Pa anyway.” Joe glanced up at Adam’s face searching for any reactions to his confession but all he saw was compassion and love in the brown eyes that reflected back at him.  

Joe lost all control of his emotions and wept bitter tears of sorrow and remorse as Adam gathered the small boy into his arms holding him in a secure embrace.  Adam placed his hand on the back of Joe’s neck and rubbed lovingly trying to bring comfort to his brother’s tortured soul.

“Joe, buddy, this is not your fault.  There is no way that you are responsible and no one blames you if that is what you are thinking.”  Adam raised Joe’s face so that he could see the boy’s eyes.  “Listen to me Joe, I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.  Do you hear me?  No one, not me, not Hoss and especially not Pa, blame you for this.”

Joe blinked away his tears and nodded his head up and down.  “I’m sorry Adam, honest I am.  I’ll never tell another lie as long as I live,” cried Little Joe.

Adam cradled Joe’s head to his breast and fought the battle of the tears himself.  He had not given one thought to the matter that Joe might hold himself responsible for their father being so brutally attacked as he had been.  No wonder the boy had been beside him self this afternoon, no wonder his own injuries had not seemed to pain him any, no wonder he had ridden off without a word to either Hoss or himself.  Silently Adam cursed himself for not having paid more attention to his brother’s needs.

“I’m sorry Joe, I had no idea that you held yourself responsible for this.  Shh…don’t cry any more buddy, please.”  Adam leaned Joe back into the pillows as Hop Sing moved to the bed and began tending to Joe’s bath.

Joe resigned himself to being bathed by his brother and the family servant.  He did refuse to open his eyes as they tended him and it was only when he heard the voice of the doctor that he did open his eyes.

Paul stepped into Joe’s bedroom and moved to the side of the bed.  “Well, little man, let’s take a look at those hands of yours.”  Paul gently picked up one hand and then the other seemingly comparing the two.  “Looks like this one,” Paul held up Joe’s left hand, “needs a little more attention than this one.”  Paul gently placed both of Joe’s hands back on the bed and reached into his black medical bag.  “Joe, I am going to give you something for the pain and to help you sleep,” started Paul but Joe interrupted.

“No, I hate that stuff, please,” begged Joe and turned to Adam with pleading eyes.

“Joe, the doctor wants you to sleep so that he can work on your hands without causing you any more discomfort, right Doc?” Adam turned to Paul expecting a conformation.

“Adam’s right Joseph, I am going to have to take some stitches and it could be quite painful.  If you go to sleep for me, you won’t feel anything, I promise…but then if you want to stay awake…” Paul watched the boy’s reaction.  It was just has he had hoped, Joe’s hazel eyes widen at the thought of being awake while his hands were being sewed up.

“You’re sure I won’t feel anything?” he questioned.

“Positive,” promised the physician hiding a smile that wanted to show its self on his face.  Adam covered his own mouth with his hands and faked a small cough.

“Okay, give it to me, I’ll drink it.”  Joe allowed the doctor to hold the glass to his lips as he swallowed the bitter tasting medicine.  When he finished Paul rose from the bed with a promise that he would return shortly after Joe had fallen to sleep.

“Doc?” called Joe before Paul got out the door.  “How’s Pa?” Joe’s voice cracked but he held back his tears.

“He’s resting Joe, I have some serious sewing up to do on him also.  I had him drink some of that stuff you just had too.”  Paul smiled at the boy.  “He didn’t like it either.”

The thought that Pa had put up a fuss at having to take the bitter medication caused Joe to giggle.  Quickly he sobered, “tell him I love him, will ya?”

Paul glanced briefly at Adam and back at Joe.  “I think he knows that already, but I’ll remind him.”  

Paul closed the door and returned to Ben’s room where Hop Sing and Hoss had been waiting for him.  Ben was now heavily medicated, much to the doctor’s satisfaction, and Paul began the dubious task of cutting away the stubborn remains of barbed wire that had earlier refuse to relinquish its hold on Ben’s body.  

Paul worked steady for half an hour cutting away at the pieces of wire that Adam had not been able to remove.  Luckily, if one could count it as luck, most of Ben’s back had been spared due to the fact that the men had tied his hands behind him before wrapping the wire around his upper torso.  The worst of the gashes were to his chest and mid-section and had he not have fallen to the ground those would not have been as deep as they were.
Paul stopped working on Ben when the barbs had been removed and returned to Joe’s room where the boy was now resting soundly.  Hop Sing was left to clean and disinfect the new wounds made from the last of the sharp spiked wire.

“I suppose you want to stay while I sew up these hands?” Paul directed his question to Adam.  Adam nodded his head; he had no intention of leaving his baby brother, not after what he had discovered just a short time ago.

“I’m staying,” stated Adam firmly and sat down on the other side of the bed putting an end to the discussion.

Paul smiled and shook his head, “Why am I not surprised?”  He laughed lightly as he inspected Joe’s hands to be sure that Hop Sing had properly cleaned and disinfected them before beginning to stitch them.

It took longer than Paul had first anticipated repairing the damage to Joe’s hands.  Deep gashes cut across the palm of his left hand and all five fingers were torn in jagged designs where Joe had grabbed the wire and pulled, ripping the flesh to the bone in some places.  It would be weeks before the hand would heal its self enough to return to normal use.  The right hand though badly lacerated was nowhere as severely damaged as the left and was stitched in a matter of minutes.  On both hands, Paul applied a healing ointment and then bandaged both hands in clean stripes of cloth provided by the humble little oriental servant who seemed to be floating from one sick room to the other, always ready to hand to the physician whatever was needed.  Paul smiled his thanks and Hop Sing bowed graciously to the doctor.

Paul carefully placed Joe’s arms across his chest and covered him with the blankets.  “He should sleep for several hours, Adam.  When he wakes, he’s going hurt like hell.  Give him some of this as needed for the pain about every four to six hours,” Paul handed Adam some pain powders, “and if you have to force it down him, make him drink some more of this sleeping powder.  Sleep is the best thing for him right now.  I have to get back to your father.”  Paul picked up his bag and quietly closed the door leaving the oldest Cartwright son standing protectively over the youngest.

Hoss was sitting on the bed with Ben when Paul returned to his room.  He rose and moved to the chair to make room for Paul as the doctor resumed his tasks. All the barbs had now been removed and Paul set to work sewing the deepest lacerations and applying the same medicated salve that he had used on Joe’s injuries.  After making sure that each cut was medicated Paul applied sterile gauze to the wounds on Ben’s mid-section and chest.  His arms having only small puncture wounds Paul left uncovered allowing the air to perform its natural healing.  

Paul checked for fever feeling the bodies temperature beginning to rise he knew instantly that before the night was over, Ben’s body would be fighting for its life in a battle against infection.  Paul was grateful for the small satisfaction that the wire used to restrain his friend had been a new roll and not one that had started to decay by rusting.  This would be a huge victory against tetanus.  Lastly Paul removed the small vile containing the painkiller, morphine, and administered the drug to Ben.  This would help him sleep and hopefully ease his suffering.

Paul straightened his back and stretched before turning to Hoss.  “If you don’t mind, I think I will go downstairs and get a cup of coffee.  Then, I think I will stay in the spare bedroom, just in case.” Paul patted Hoss on the shoulder as he passed.  “I will relieve you in about four hours.  I’ll have Hop Sing relieve Adam about the same time.  Call me if you need me.”

“Thanks, Paul.”  Hoss settled into the old chair and made himself comfortable, knowing that they all had a long night ahead of them.

In the bedroom down the hall, Adam had done exactly what his middle brother had done.  The chair brought welcomed relief to his weary body and soon Adam was sleeping, grotesque visions of his father’s mangled body floating in front of his eyes as he dozed.  It was almost a relief to Adam when his brother began to moan and he was awakened from his nightmare.  Adam stood at Joe’s bedside and bathed his brother’s fevered brow with cool water.

“Wa…ter,” moaned Joe.  Adam poured a small amount into the glass and held it to Joe’s parched lips, allowing the boy to sip slowly.  When he had had his fill, Joe’s eyes sought his brother’s face.  “Pa?” he mumbled.

“He’s fine Joe, go back to sleep and don’t worry.” Adam placed the cool cloth on Joe’s brow and watched as Joe’s sleep laden eyelids closed.

Hoss had been awake for sometime, he too was bathing a fevered brow.  Ben repeatedly moaned and tried to move about on the bed.  It was all that Hoss could do to keep his father from falling to the floor.  Ben struggled to open his eyes.  He had to help Little Joe.  His baby needed him and Ben’s clouded eyes continually were scanning the room for his youngest son.

“Joe…Joe,” Ben would cry repeatedly and each time Hoss would assure his father that the boy was okay and just down the hall sleeping.  Whether the message had at last registered in the mind or whether from exhausting himself, Ben finally quieted enough to fall into a fitful sleep.  Four hours later and true to his word, Paul appeared in the doorway to relieve Hoss of his watchman’s duty.

“Get some sleep, I’ll see you in about four hours.”  Paul practically pushed Hoss out the door and down the hall to his room before making himself comfortable in the seat that Hoss had just vacated.

Hop Sing stepped into Joe’s room to relieve Adam of his duty only to find that Adam had curled up on a cot that had been brought into the room earlier.  Since the oldest son was already sleeping, Hop Sing saw no reason to wake the older boy he covered him with a blanket before making himself comfortable in the rocker next to the bed.

Morning brought the sunlight streaming into the windows.  The air was cool but crisp and everywhere birds were fluttering about from limb to limb in search of twigs and leaves readying their nests for spring’s new arrivals.  The ground squirrels could be heard barking to each other and occasionally their tiny little feet could be heard pattering around on the roof, a game of chase in progress.

Inside the Cartwright home, a boy was struggling to rise from his bed unobserved by those who were suppose to be keeping a watchful eye on him.  Slowly Little Joe forced himself to place his feet on the floor, stand up and quietly tip toed to the door.  His hands hurt and he held them upward in an attempt to still the throbbing pain that had begun the minute he had tried to sit up.  Not caring that his feet wore no socks or slippers or that the wide boards of the floor were cold, he inched his way to the partly opened door.  The need to see his father, to see for himself that the man who had suffered grueling pain because of his insolence was still alive and breathing.  

Joe braced himself along the wall in the hallway as he felt the sudden nausea sweep over him and he feared that he might vomit there in the hall or worse that he would pass out before being able to complete his short trek down the hall.  He could not remember the hall having been this long before, always before it had seemed much short.  Joe felt himself getting weaker and almost regretted making the effort.  He was about to change his mind and return to the safety of his bed when he suddenly heard voices coming from his father’s room.  Just a few more steps he told himself as he pushed forward.  Leaning heavily on the doorframe, he stood silently as his eyes searched the room for his father.

The heavy drapes were still drawn, knocking out the bright morning sun and leaving the room dimly lit.  Around the large framed bed that Joe knew was his father’s, stood Adam, his oldest brother, Hoss, his middle brother, Hop Sing and Doctor Paul Martin.  Joe could not see his father’s face; the group of men blocked it from his view.  Joe moved to the opposite side of the doorway in hopes of catching a glimpse of the face he longed to see but his view remained blocked.  Joe could not make out what the whispering voices where saying but he did notice the grave looks that where passed from one man to the other and his heart jumped into his throat when he picked up on one word…dead.

“NO!” screamed Little Joe as he slid to the floor in a heap.  The four men turned startled eyes toward the door, caught totally off guard by the sudden outburst and not having realized that Joe had even been present.  Crossing the room in two steps, Adam bent down and gathered the hysterical boy into his arms.

“NO!  NO!  He can’t be dead.  PA!” screamed Little Joe reaching out his arms to his father who lay lifeless on the bed.  

Adam held tightly to his brother while Joe struggled to free himself from Adam’s grasp, the pain in his hands now totally forgotten.  “Shh…Joe, calm down,” Adam fought to maintain his hold as Joe’s attempts to free himself became more forceful.

“PA!  No, Adam, please, Pa, ya can’t be dead, you can’t be…” Joe collapsed against Adam’s chest as Adam rose from the floor, bringing with him in his arms the sobbing child.

Adam glanced over his shoulder at his brother and family friends and carried Joe from the room; his eyes filling with unshed tears.  His top priority now was to calm his baby brother and get him back to his bed.

“Joe, calm down Little Buddy, it’s okay,” Adam whispered as he laid Joe back in his bed.

Joe turned terrified eyes to look into his brother’s face.  “It’s not okay…Adam…Pa’s dead.”  Joe turned his face into his pillow allowing his tears to be absorbed into the soft folds.

Adam forced Joe to turn his head and look at him, “Joe, Pa is not dead, he’s just sleeping.”  Adam cupped his brother’s young face with both hands and repeated himself.
“Pa is sleeping Joe.  I promise you, he is very much alive.”  Adam smiled and brushed Joe’s stray curls back from his forehead.  “Alive Joe, and asking for you.”

Joe stopped his crying and studied his brother’s face. “Alive?”  It was more of a request than a question.  Joe’s eyes looked beyond his brother’s face, across his shoulders half expecting to see his father standing in the door.

“But I heard the doctor say…dead,” Joe had returned his attention back to his big brother.

“Yes, but that was only part of it, Joe.  What Paul said was, ‘he is very lucky that he is not dead’, you just got part of the conversation,” explained Adam.  “Are you calmed down enough to go see for yourself?” Adam smiled and turned around as Hoss approached from behind.

“Hmm…Adam?”  Hoss motioned for his brother to step outside of the room.

“I’ll be right back buddy, don’t go any place.”  Adam’s statement caused Little Joe to smile.

“What’s wrong Hoss?  Pa?” questioned Adam, the smile suddenly gone from his face as he noticed the dark scowl on Hoss’ face.

“No.  Roy Coffee is downstairs.  He wants to talk to ya, says it’s about those four men that jumped Pa and Little Joe.  Adam, he seems very upset, ya better hurry.”  Hoss relayed the sheriff’s message and stepped into Joe’s room to keep the boy company.

“Is something wrong with Pa, Hoss?  He really is dead, Adam just doesn’t want me to know yet does he?” Joe began to fidget with his blankets as the tears once again filled his hazel eyes.

“No, no, Punkin, Pa ain’t dead, honest.  Adam just had to go downstairs and take care of some business, that’s all.”  Hoss hoped that Joe wouldn’t ask what business cause he wasn’t sure that he wanted to explain the reason for Roy’s visit.

A few minutes later Adam returned to Joe’s room and just before he pushed opened the door, he forced a smile onto his face.  “You ready for that visit now little brother?”

Joe pushed back the covers and started to stand up but Adam stopped him.  “Whoa, slow down Joe.  Want me to carry you?”

“No, I can walk,” Joe gave Adam a big grin, “you might have to help me some, but I’d like to walk.”

“Okay then, let’s go.  Here wait, slip these on your feet.”  Adam placed Joe’s slippers in front of him and Joe slid his feet into them.  Joe’s robe was held out in front of him and looking into his brother’s dark eyes, he knew that he would not be allowed to venture from the room without the article of clothing warmly wrapped around his body.  Willingly, Joe allowed his brother to slip the robe onto his arms, careful not to jar his injured hands.

Together the three brothers, the youngest securely placed between the two older boys, made their way to their father’s room.  Hoss pushed open the door and stepped to Ben’s bedside, leaving Adam standing at the door with Joe.  Joe stopped suddenly in the doorway, unable to move.  Adam gently nudged the boy forward but Joe stood as if rooted to the floor.  Adam glanced down briefly at Joe and entered the room without the boy, taking the chair next to their father’s bed.

Joe had thought that he had been ready to see his father, but now he suddenly felt trapped.  There on the bed lay a man, covered up to his neck by heavy thick blankets that looked nothing like the man his father was suppose to look like.  Joe did not know this man, had Adam and Hoss been lying to him?  Was this some kind of sick joke?  Where was his Pa?  Joe felt the tears escape from his eyes and roll down his cheeks as the sobs caught in his throat.

The man in the bed watched the boy standing in the door and saw the frightened expression that covered his young face and saw the tears that dripped from the quivering chin.  Without verbally expressing the pain he was feeling in his bandaged hands, Ben raised up one hand and motioned with his fingers for the boy to come to him.   The boy could not or would not move Ben wasn’t sure.

“Joseph,” Ben struggled to get his son’s name out.  

Joe’s eyes were focused on the man who lay in his father’s bed.  The eyes looked like his father’s but that was the only thing that reminded Joe of his Pa.  The man’s face was pale, colorless, not suntanned and healthy looking like Pa’s.  The hair was mussed, looking as if it had not been combed in several days.  A five o’clock shadow covered the man’s face, making him appear much older than he actually was.  In fact the strange man staring at him and motioning for him to come close scared him.  Sanity resumed control of Joe’s emotions and Joe knew that his pitiful man was his father and that he was responsible for this man’s injuries and harried looks.  Joe secretly convinced himself that his father’s sudden looking advanced age was his doing and his only.

Joe bolted into the hallway, ran to his room throwing himself down on his bed and sobbed.  Adam was quickly at his brother’s side.  Sitting down on the bed, Adam made no move to take the boy in his arms, instead he began to gently rub the boy’s back hoping to calm him.  It was several minutes before either boy spoke and then it was Adam that broke the silence.

“Hey buddy, want to tell me what just happened in there?” Adam asked softly.

Joe shook his head; not able to trust his voice and not wanting to remember how badly his father had looked.  Again, Joe felt the guilt that assaulted his heart and crowded his thinking forcing himself to admit his roll in his father’s attack.  Joe lay motionless as Adam’s steady hand rubbed away the tension in his back and Joe felt his body relaxing to the soothing touch.

Adam proceeded with the back rub as Joe’s sobs began to subside.  “Joe?” Adam tried again, “Joe?”  When he got no response the second time he leaned across his brother and saw that the boy had fallen into an exhausted sleep.  Not wanting to wake him, Adam covered the sleeping form and quietly backed out of the room.

The doctor had Ben propped up in the bed by the time Adam returned to his father’s room.  Ben scanned his son’s face for information about his youngest and relaxed when Adam gave him a smile.  

“He’s sleeping Pa.  I don’t know what happen, he wouldn’t say,” Adam explained and sat on the edge of the bed.  “He was fine until we got to the door and then he just freaked.”  Adam shrugged his shoulders.

Ben gave Adam a weak smile.  “Scared.”

Paul excused himself from the room and left the two sons to chat with their father.  “Don’t stay too long, he needs to rest,” ordered Paul.

“We won’t.  I just have to tell him what Roy said, then we will let him sleep,” promised Adam.  He waited until Paul had closed the door before turning to his father.

Ben questioned with his eyes.  He had known that Roy had stopped by earlier that morning, Hoss had informed him.  Now he was anxious to find out the reason for his visit.

Adam jumped right in, he knew there was no reason to beat around the bush with his father, he needed to know the truth anyway.  “Pa, Roy caught two of the men who did this to you and Little Joe.  They tried to lie out of it, but one decided to turn state’s evidence and sang like a bird.”  Adam paused to check Ben’s reaction.

“Go on, son,” encouraged Ben, “what did he tell Roy?”  Ben was becoming drowsy from his morning’s medication and Adam hurried on to tell all he knew about the case before his father fell asleep.

“His name was Norton something or other, he said he and the others were paid by some of the local ranchers to scare you into not using the barbed wire and…” Adam stopped when Ben touched his hand.

“Local ranchers?  What local ranchers?”  Ben’s eyes were becoming dark and filled with anger.

Adam knew that most of the ranchers that had property surrounding the Ponderosa were friends of his father’s and his family.  He also knew that Ben was disturbed at the knowledge that perhaps some of his ‘friends’ had been involved in a scheme that had brought so much heartache and pain to his family.

“Pa, promise me you will stay calm?”  Adam dreaded giving his father the names of the ranchers who Norton had implicated.

“Adam!”  Ben’s anger was already starting to reach the boiling point.  “Who were they?” he demanded.

Adam took a deep breath, “Hopkins, Rouse, Judds, and Sam Peterson.”

Ben leaned his head back into his pillow and closed his eyes.  No one moved or said a word for several moments and Adam had thought that Ben had fallen asleep.

“Sam.”  Ben shook his head in disgust, “I would have never thought…” Ben looked at his sons, and lowered his head, the new found knowledge hurt, “Sam was one of my best friends…” Ben’s sad eyes reflected his heartache, “I was his best man at his wedding five years ago.  Adam, are you sure, positive Sam was involved?”  

Adam saw the smidgen of hope that sparked in his father’s eyes and he hated to squelch that hope but…  “Roy only has this Norton guy’s word, Pa.  He was going out to talk to Sam this afternoon.  We won’t know for sure until he comes back here later this evening.”

Adam motioned for Hoss as he stood.  “Pa, you better get some rest now.  I’ll go check on Little Joe and we’ll talk again this afternoon.”

“Yeah Pa, you rest.  I’ve got a ton of chores to do.”  Hoss patted his father’s shoulder and smiled.

“Thanks son, both of you,” Ben’s smile quickly disappeared when Adam and Hoss walked out of the room and closed the door.

Ben was having trouble coming to terms with what had happened to him and his youngest son.  Ben was sure that Joseph had been traumatized by their ordeal and it angered Ben beyond measure to think that his long time friends had instigated the whole plan.  Ben had been in high hopes of reuniting with his youngest son this morning but when that failed to happen, some of the fight had seemed to dissipate only to be replaced with anger at the injustice of the situation.

Ben was worried about Joe; he had seen the look that had suddenly washed over the boy’s face when he had stopped at the door.  He had been terrified to enter his bedroom and Ben was not sure why.  Adam had assured him just minutes before that Joe had been most anxious to see his father.  Adam had explained to him what had happened earlier that morning when Joe had happened to overhear part of a conversation and thought that he had died.  Ben knew that had scared the boy, but after finding out he had been mistaken he had returned then hesitated.  The next thing everyone knew, he was running off to his room in tears.

‘If only I could get out of this bed,’ fumed Ben to himself.  ‘That boy needs me, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.’  Ben dug his head deeper into the pillow and closed his eyes in an effort to stall his frustrations.  Soon sleep claimed him and it was several hours before he was awakened by the sound of a chair being scraped across the floor.

Roy had made himself comfortable and waited patiently as Ben struggled to become fully awake.  “Afternoon, Ben.  How ya feelin?” asked Roy once Ben had settled himself back against the pillows.

“I hurt like the dickens,” Ben gave Roy a small smile, “I’d feel better if I could see Little Joe, but for some reason, he refuses to come see me.”  Ben hung his head briefly allowing his mind to wander to his youngest son and then shook his head to clear away the disturbing thoughts before meeting his friend’s eyes.

“What did you find out, Roy?  Was Sam involved?” asked Ben.

“Well Ben, I talked to Sam.  I told’em we had a witness that would swear under oath in a court of law that they were paid by him and the others to scare ya and your family.” Roy stopped when he saw the anger flicker in Ben’s eyes and he held up his hand to stop Ben from speaking.  

“Hold on now Ben, let me finish before ya go off half cocked.  When I told Sam what happened to ya and the boy, he swore to me that he had nothing to do with that.  He said all he and the others paid those four men to do was to tear down and destroy your fences, just to scare ya, that’s all.  Sam was adamant about the fact that they never meant no harm to come to you or one of your boys.”  Roy waited until Ben had time to consider all the information he had just gotten before continuing.

“I can have’em all arrested Ben, if ya plannin’ on filing a complaint,” suggested Roy.

Ben let out a long sigh and looked into the face of his friend.  “What would happen to them if I did?”

“Well, let’s see now.  First I’d have to lock’em up, then there’d be a trial and if’n they were found guilty, they’d likely as not do a little prison time.  Probably a couple of years,” explained Roy.  “Is that what ya want?”

“I don’t know Roy, they have all have families.  I wonder what would happen to them if they went to prison?” Ben paused, “What about the others, the ones who did this?” Ben pointed to his many wounds.

“Well, Clem and a posse are collecting the other two for me.  Guess they would go to prison also, though I would guess for a lot longer than Sam and the other ranchers.”  Roy scratched his head, “Attempted murder, possibly two accounts, I think we could make that stick.  My guess would be ten, maybe fifteen years each.”

Ben shook his head trying to collect his thoughts.  It was as he turned his head to speak to Roy that Ben’s eye caught a movement at the door and smiled when he saw Little Joe standing in the doorway clad only in his nightshirt.  Ben smiled to himself at the sight; the young boy posed the picture of innocence as pure as the first flakes of a new fallen snow. The only two things that marred the picture were the sad countenance of the young face and the hideous bandages that adorned his hands.  Ben took only seconds to wonder about his son’s injuries; he could not recall the boy being hurt to such an extent and believed that it must have happened after he had blacked out.

“Joseph, son, come in please,” Ben motioned with his hand for Joe to enter and then patted the side of the bed next to him inviting the boy to sit.  

Joe held his eyes downward focusing on the patterned carpet that covered the floor as he slowly walked barefooted into the room.  Joe stopped at the foot of the bed, glanced up at Roy and slowly turned his eyes to meet his father’s face.  As soon as Ben began to speak, Joe dropped his head to his chest, unable to hold Ben’s stance.

“I’m glad you came to see me son, how are you feeling?” Ben inquired softly, troubled by Joe’s reluctance to come any nearer.  Ben watched as Joe fidgeted with a button on his nightshirt.

Again Joe glanced at Roy first before meeting his father’s eyes and quickly dropping his head.  “I’m fine, sir.”

Ben was somewhat surprised at his son’s formality.  “I’m glad to hear that Joseph.  Why don’t you come over here and sit next to me so that we can talk?”

Roy eased his way out of the room, giving father and son time alone together.  As quietly as possible he closed the door behind him and went in search of Hop Sing whom he knew would find something good in the kitchen for him to eat; he had missed lunch and was staving.  

“Hop Sing,” called out Roy as he turned the corner going into the kitchen.


Joe waited until Roy shut the bedroom door and moved around the corner of the bed and sat down at the foot refusing to move any closer.  Joe’s heart was beating loudly in his chest, in his stomach, the butterflies had begun to take flight and in his eyes, tears were gathering for a storm.  There were so many mixed feelings going on in Joe’s mind and in his heart that he had trouble thinking clearly.  

First there was shame, shame that he had lied to his father.  Second there was remorse, he truly had been sorry that he lied.  Third there came guilt, guilt because he believed that by reason of his lies, he was responsible for what had happened to his father.  And last there was fear, the very worst kind of fear that the young boy had ever experienced in his short fourteen years.  Those same fears that forced him to believe that his father also blamed him.   It was a type of fear that was designed to make him believe that his father no longer loved him.

Joe looked quickly into his father’s face and saw Ben watching him.  It was the kind of fear that left Joe feeling all alone, heartbroken, scared, trapped in a loveless world where people played at loving you only because it was their duty, you are the son, the brother, they have to love you, or at least make you think they do.

Joe sniffed, trying to hold back the tears.  Never would he forget seeing his father laying on the ground crying out in anguish, the cruel wire binding his arms to his body, the blood, so much blood, all his father’s.  Joe swiped the sleeve of his nightshirt across his nose and chanced a glance at his father. Those eyes, once so full of love, now looked to Joe with condemnation or it appeared to be so in Joe’s distraught adolescent mind.

Joe sighed deeply; he would never be able to forgive himself for what he had done to his father.  Not only had he lost his father’s love but also his father’s respect.  Joe hung his head in shame, the tears falling into his lap unnoticed.

Ben sat motionless propped against his pillows and watched as Joe fought to control himself and struggle with whatever demons were playing havoc in his mind.  The despair that was etched onto the young face, the sadness that had stolen the shine from the once sparkling hazel eyes, and the frown that pulled his once smiling lips downward all caused Ben’s own eyes to fill with tears.  Never had he seen a son of his suffer such inner turmoil and Ben found himself silently cursing his so-called ‘friends’ for having brought this mental anguish to his son.

Ben choked back his tears and cleared his throat.  Joe raised his head at the sound and was surprised at the tears that glistened on his father’s cheeks not knowing the reason why his father cried.

Ben held his arm out to his son, “Please come here, son.”

Joe momentarily hesitated before standing and inching his way nearer to his father.  When Joe stood at the head of the bed Ben smiled and took Joe’s bandaged hand into his own.  “What happened to you hands son?”  Ben pulled gently and without realizing what he had done, Joe found himself sitting on the bed next to his father.

“You don’t remember?” asked Joe looking down at his bandages.

Ben’s eyes never strayed from his son’s face.  “No, the last thing I remember was when you fell after that man struck you.  How did your hands come to be injured?”

Joe swallowed and pulled his hand from his father’s grasp.  “I tried to…” he swallowed again, “…pull the wire off you and it cut me…” Joe’s chin began to quiver and his body tremble as he remembered the image of his father on the ground, “…Pa…” Joe was struggling to fill his lungs,   “…I…I didn’t mean…for this…to happen…” Joe’s tears began rolling down his face, “I’m so sorry…Pa…honest.”  Joe jumped to his feet and ran from the room, leaving a very startled Ben to wonder at the meaning to his son’s little confession.

Two days Ben asked for his youngest son and for two days Joe made excuses to avoid having contact with his father.  He could not bring himself to stand before the man who had nearly died because of his careless lies nor could he force himself to look into the eyes that had once looked at him with unconditional love but that now stared back at him with a look of distaste.  It hurt too much, to remember the way it once was, and the way it was now.

Ben’s injuries were healing nicely, several of the lesser puncture wounds had already begun to scab over and Paul had assured his friend that there would be very little scarring and what did scar would slowly become less noticeable with time.  The worse cuts would take longer to heal leaving in their wake, several small scars across this stomach area and chest.  Ben tried to make light of the situation by teasingly remarking that the boys would have to remind him not to lose his shirt.  Paul removed the bandages from Ben’s hand where the first of many sharp spikes had cut deeply into the palm and was pleased when the skin tissue showed no signs of infection.  After applying the salve to the afflicted skin, Paul replaced the soil bandages with new.

“Paul,” Ben searched the physician’s face as he tended the injured hand.  “How are Joseph’s hands?”  

Paul, who had been not just the family physician for many years, but also a close family friend, looked deeply into the dark worried eyes that spoke volumes without verbally uttering a word.

“It’s not his hands that bother me Ben,” Paul said softly.  “They are healing fine, I wish I could heal his spirit as easily.”

Ben’s lips closed in a tight line across his face.  “I wish I knew what was eating at him.  Do you know he hasn’t come anywhere near me except for the other day when Roy was here?  Then he only stayed a few minutes, left out of here like the devil himself was after him.”  Ben shook his head sadly.  “I need to get out of this dang bed and find him, I have to make him talk to me.”

Paul saw the spark that sprang into Ben’s eyes and he could not stop the smile that spread across his face.  “Ben, you will do no such a thing, at least not just yet.  You will remain in this bed for at least another week.  Do I make myself clear?”

Ben was taken back by the doctor’s tone of voice but he laughed in spite of himself.  “Yes sir!”  Ben laughed again, “Now I know why Joseph hates to see you coming.  You have no heart!”

Paul joined in the joke and then sobered, “Ben, I mean what I say.  If you don’t do as I instructed, I have ways of keeping you in this bed,” he jabbed the mattress with is finger, “for as long as I want to.  And I might add, I will not hesitate to use those methods.”

Ben also sobered, he knew full well that Paul meant what he said, Ben had seen him use some of those methods on his sons, usually Little Joe, when they refused to follow orders.

“Ben, do you want me to speak to Little Joe?  He might tell me what’s bothering him,” Paul volunteered.

“It might not hurt,” Ben met his friend’s eyes, “If I only had an idea what it was.  Paul, the boy almost acts like he’s mad at me.”

“That doesn’t make sense Ben, why would he be mad?”  Paul could not understand Ben’s reasoning in his thinking.

“How should I know?  Just about the time I think I have that boy figured out, he does something totally unexpected and I have to start all over again.”  Ben gave his friend a weak smile.  “Just see if you can get anything out of him for me, will you?”

“Consider it done.  If he tells me anything I think you should know, I’ll get back to you.  Otherwise, I’ll see you in a couple of days.”  Paul patted Ben’s blanket covered leg as he rose from the bed and began putting his instruments back into his medical bag.

“Thanks Paul, for everything,” Ben replied.  Paul started out the door as Hop Sing entered with Ben’s dinner tray.  “Smells good,” Paul sniffed the air as he and the little cook passed each other.

When Paul let himself out the door he found his youngest patient sitting alone on the porch rocking in the rocker that was a permanent fixture of the porch.  Joe looked up at the sound of the doctor’s approach and seeing who it was that had come to stand behind him, wiped quickly at his eyes to hide any traces of his tears.  The sudden removal of tears had not escaped the doctor’s keen eyes.

“Feeling poorly Joe?” asked Paul as he moved to stand in front of the boy who turned his head to avoid looking at the man.

“I’m fine.”  Joe chanced a quick look up, saw the physician intently watching him and knew right away that his tears had been seen.

“Want to talk about what’s bothering you son?” Paul inquired softly and kneeled down in front of Joe who had stopped rocking.

“Did Pa sent you out here to talk to me?”  It was an honest question.  Ben had been known to use a go-between before.

“He’s worried sick about you Little Joe, and I might add, a little scared.”  Paul rested his hand on the boy’s knee.

“Scared?  What’s he scared of?”  Joe could hardly believe his ears; his Pa scared, never.

Then he recalled the look of fear that he had seen in the dark depths of those same eyes when Pa had instructed him to go for help.  Joe swallowed the lump that had suddenly grown in his throat, something else to blame on me, thought Little Joe, already feeling the guilt growing in his heart.  Joe felt the tears returning to his eyes and quickly wiped them away not really caring now that the doctor saw them and looked at the doctor.

“I guess he blames me for that too.”  The statement not meant to be heard by the man kneeling in front of him, but Paul had heard and the statement caught him off guard.

“Joe?” Paul cupped the boy’s quivering chin; “do you think that Ben holds you to blame for what happened to him?”  Paul studied the boy’s face and knew that this sad little boy whose heart was very obviously broken, blamed himself for everything that had happened and the thought tore away at his heart.

Joe slowly nodded his head up and down.  “Everybody does, Pa, Adam, Hoss even Hop Sing.”

Paul shook his head, “No, Joe.”  Paul wanted to gather the weeping boy into his arms and comfort him, but knowing Joe as well as he did, he knew that they boy would not permit that to happen.  “You blame yourself, they don’t.  They never have son, they never will.  This was not your fault; it was the fault of those men that Roy has safely locked away in his jail.  Look at me Joseph.”

Joe had pulled his chin free of Paul’s hands and had turned away picking up where he had left off on his rocking.  Paul put both hands on the arms of the rocker bringing it to an abrupt halt.  Slowly Joe faced his father’s friend.

“You have to believe me Joseph.  Ben, in no way blames you.  He doesn’t even have an idea that you feel this way.  That’s why he’s worried and scared, he wants to talk to you, but you have used his injuries as a way to avoid him.  That’s not fair Joe, not to your father nor to you.”  Paul gave Joe time to collect his thoughts.

“I know about the lie…” started Paul when suddenly Joe’s mouth dropped opened.

“He told you?  Pa told you?”  Joe tried to get out of the chair but Paul barred the way keeping Joe from running off.

“Yes Joe, your father told me.  I’m sorry if that embarrasses you.  Stop fighting me Joseph,” Joe was struggling to get away from this man who had unexpectedly seemed to have turned on him as Paul forced Joe to stay in the chair.

“I was a boy once Joe, I told my share of lies, and so did your father,” Paul confessed.

Joe stopped his feeble attempt at escape and stared at the doctor.  He didn’t trust his ears, “You told lies?”

Paul smiled at the surprised look on the boy’s young face.  “I sure did.  I couldn’t tell you the number of times my ma washed my mouth out with soap.  I never did learn to like that stuff.”

Joe giggled and wiped his tears.  “What did your Pa do?”

Paul knew he now had the boy’s undivided attention.  “Well Joe, my Pa wasn’t as forgiving as my Ma was.  Pa and I spent a lot of time in the woodshed and then I spent the next few days standing up.  I even had to stand up one day in church, I was so embarrassed, all my friends knew why I was but after church, all the girls asked my Pa why I got to stand up that day.”

“What did your pa tell them?” Joe’s eyes were shining.

“The truth, what else?  I never lied again after that Joe.  Just as I suspect that you won’t ever tell another lie.  Am I right?”  Paul returned his hand to the boy’s knee and watched as Joe came to terms with his sin.

“I ain’t gonna promise, doc.  I will always try from now on to tell the truth, but if I told you now that I’ll never lie again, it might turn out that I’ll break that promise, then you would think I lied, so…” Joe stopped when Paul put his finger to his lips.

“I get the point son.”  Paul laughed and Joe gave the family friend a small smile.  “Now, why not go have a talk with your father?”

Joe glanced back at the house and then fixed his eyes on the doctor’s face.  Paul watched as the smile faded from the boy’s face and the eyes that had sparkled moments ago clouded once again with doubt.

“Maybe later.”  Joe pulled himself up from the chair as Paul stepped aside.  “I’ve got chores to do.”

Paul knew the conversation had been closed and he had been politely dismissed.  As soon as Joe entered the barn, Paul returned to Ben’s room and passed on the desired information to his friend.  Now, at least Ben would know how to approach his son hopefully getting things straightened out and back on the right track.

Late that night when Joe was sure that both his brothers and Hop Sing had retired, he crawled quietly from his bed and gathered what few belongings that he had stashed away to take with him.  Easing himself out into the hall, he tiptoed slowly to the stairs being careful to avoid those that he knew squeaked.  On the last step before the landing, his toe hung on the runner and he dropped his boot.  Cursing him self for his carelessness, he bent to retrieve the fallen item and listened for any signs that his departure had been detected.  Letting his breath out slowly he continued his descent until he reached the main level of the house and swiftly made his way around the various pieces of furniture into the kitchen.  There he grabbed what food he could and stuffed it into an unused flour sack he found on the pantry shelf.  Using all the skill he had learned from his brothers when they had taught him how to sneak up on prey while hunting, Joe slipped out the kitchen door and ran to the barn.  As he entered, Cochise nickered softly to her young master.

“Shh…be quiet,” Joe whispered to his horse as he slipped on his boots and began to saddle his mount.

In the upstairs bedroom, Ben had heard the door down the hall open softly.  Many years of training had fine-tuned his ears to the matters of his son’s comings and goings.  Minutes later he had heard the thump on the stairs when Little Joe had dropped something, probably his boot.  Ben smiled to himself; Joe’s lightly whispered curse had not gone unheard either.

Ben managed to pull himself from his bed and slip his rope over his shoulders.  Getting his feet into his slippers had been harder than he expected; bending over caused the cuts in his mid-section to send small stabs of pain throughout his body.  Gritting his teeth to ward off the discomfort, Ben finally managed to get his feet tucked into the warmth interiors and move out into the hall.  His head began to swim giving Ben the feeling that he might pass out.  Ben stopped briefly and continued, he had to get to the barn before Joe had a chance to ride away.

All day, after Paul had informed him of his conversation with Little Joe, Ben had waited expectantly for his youngest son to come to him.  Paul had felt sure that the boy would put in an appearance before the night was over, but that thought had proved wrong.  Now the boy was running away, of that Ben was sure, the reason however was uncertain, at least in Ben’s mind.

Through self-determination Ben managed to get down the stairs, out the front door and to the barn just as Joe pulled back the door to lead his horse from the barn.  The look on the young face when he turned and saw his father standing in the doorway was priceless.

“Pa,” Joe stammered.

“Hello son,” Ben said calmly, hoping that his heart would stop racing.  He was very near the point of losing his son and he was not sure if he could prevent his leaving, that thought put the fear of God into his heart.

“Wh…what are you doing out here?”  Joe knew it was a dumb question but he was at a loss for words and the idea of standing so close to his beloved father was causing a riot between his heart and brain.

Ben stood with his hands stuffed into his pockets. “I might ask you the same question.”

Joe realized that his father was not going to make this easy for him.  Joe gulped, “I’m leaving.”

“Oh?  And where might you be going?” Ben stood firm in spite of the fact that his head had started to spin again.

Joe hung his head, the battle between his heart and brain going at it in full force.  Joe knew that he had a choice that had to be made right now, he could tell his father the truth and be forced to stay, or he could lie, again.  He raised his head and looked into his father’s eyes.  What he saw there was not what he had expected to see.  Tears.  Joe felt his own eyes filling; the heart was slowly claiming victory.  Something that his father had told him a long time ago suddenly burst forth from his memory, ‘always follow your heart, it will never lead you wrong’.  Joe quickly wondered why he thought of that now, was someone greater than he or his father trying to tell him something?

Joe’s head fell to his chest, his own tears sliding down his face and onto his shirt.  He sensed his father step closer to him, yet he refused to look up.  The tender touch of his father’s hand on either side of his face brought his face upward until he was looking into the tear filled eyes of the most important man in his life.  

“I don’t want you to go son.  I don’t want to live my life without you.”  Ben’s tears dripped onto his hands that continued to cup the boy’s face.

“I don’t wanna go, Pa.  I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to get you hurt.”  Joe batted his eyes releasing more tears.

“Joseph, I have never lied to you.  What I want you to understand now is that I love you more than life its self.  That night when this all happened, when we were in the back of the wagon, I opened my eyes and saw you lying there next to me.  At that precise second when our eyes locked, I knew I had everything to live for.  You are responsible for nothing except giving me the will to live.  Are you now going to leave and take that will away from me?” Ben put the question to the boy and held his breath as Joe considered what his father had asked.

The sobs began slowly and within seconds picked up tempo, causing Ben to draw the boy to his breast and hold him.  “No.”  The battle was over; the heart was the victor.  Joe’s arms slipped around his father’s waist as Joe buried his face against the soft folds of his father’s robe. For several minutes the father and son clung to each other, the need to fill the gap that had begun to erode their relationship foremost in each of their minds.

Joe was the first to pull away.  Smiling weakly at his father he reached for Cochise’s reins, “Guess I’d better put her in her stall.”

“I’ll wait for you.”  Together Ben and Little Joe walked into the barn and Ben waited patiently while Joe unsaddled his horse and returned her to her stall.  Joe came to stand in front of Ben when he had finished, looking up at his father.

Ben placed both hands on the slim shoulders, “Joe, I want you to know, I never blamed you for any of this.”

“I know Pa.  I guess it was just easier for me to think that you blamed me than it was for me to admit that I blamed myself.  I’m sorry for causing you to worry, and I’m sorry I lied in the first place.”  Joe slipped his arm around his father’s back.  “You better get inside, you don’t look too good.”

Ben laughed, “I don’t feel too well, at least not physically.”

Joe closed and locked the barn door and then returned his arm around his father.  Ben laid his arm across Joe’s shoulder.  “Son, will you make me a promise?”

“Sure Pa, anything,” answered Joe.

“Don’t tell the doctor I was out of bed.  He said he would make me drink some of that medicine you always put up such a fuss about and it tastes yuckie.”  Ben smiled down at his son.

Joe giggled, “I know what you mean, Pa.”  Joe returned his father’s smile and suddenly the look in his eyes changed.

Ben saw the play in the eyes, “Don’t you even think about blackmailing me young man!”  Ben forced a fake frown on his face to stress his point.

“Me?  Pa, you don’t really think I…” started Joe.

“Yes I do little boy!” laughed Ben as he rumbled the dark curls that massed the boy’s head.

“Aw Pa, how come you always know what I am thinking?” giggled Little Joe.

“Age and Wisdom son, Age and Wisdom.”  The laughter that followed filled the silence of the night as father and son closed the door to another chapter of their lives.


THE END
December 2001

EPILOGUE:  

Sam Peterson, Judd, Rouse and Hopkins walked together into the courtroom and took their seats.  It was a private hearing, those present among the group besides the defendants were the plaintiffs, Ben and Joseph Cartwright and the two attorneys, and the Honorable Judge Jerome Hoffmire presided.

Ben’s attorney stood before the judge, “Your Honor, my client would like to address the court, with your permission, of course.”

“Certainly, Mr. Cartwright, if you please,” stated the judge.

Ben stepped up to the stand.  There was no need to be sworn in, not at the hearing, that would come later at the trial, should it come to that.  Ben turned to face the judge and began what he hoped would be a plea for leniency.  He and Joe had talked for hours last night and had decided not to press charges on their neighbors.  Justice had been served in the first trial when Slim and his gang had been sentenced to twenty years each for two accounts of attempted murder.  Slim had attempted an escape on the way to prison and had been gunned down in a shoot out.  The bearded man had suffered severe gunshot wounds and died before the doctor had arrived to treat him.  The lone survivor had surrendered and continued on to jail.  The one man who had turned state’s evidence was spending a one-year jail sentence in Carson City for his part in the scheme.

“Your Honor, the men sitting over there,” Ben pointed his finger at the group of defendants, “are my friends.”  Ben saw the judge’s eyebrows rise in surprise.

“I know that may seem hard to believe, I, myself, find it somewhat hard to believe.  But it is true.  I have known each of those men for several years.  I was best man at Sam Peterson’s wedding about five years ago.  I’ve known him better than twenty years, he’s a good man, an honest man.  Jake Hopkins, he’s a family man, has about four or is it five now?” Ben glanced at Jake and saw that he was holding up five fingers.  Ben smiled.

“Looks like it’s five.  Well, your Honor, if Jake was sent off to prison for any length of time, I can only speculate what would happen to those kids.  I’d hate to think about the outcome.  Bill Rouse, he came here about the same time my family and I did.  We have worked side by side many times, fought a few Indians in our day too.  I could always count on him when the chips were down; he’s dependable, hard working.  He’s been a good husband and father, now he’s a good grandfather.”  Ben gave Bill a nod of his head.

“Bill saved my son’s life one night about seven years ago.”  Ben pointed at Little Joe to indicate to the judge that the son in question was sitting with their lawyer.  

“Joe was about seven and it had started snowing.  The kids were all at school and the teacher had let them leave early so that the ones who lived furthermost from town would be able to get home before the storm got any worse.  Joseph had started home without our knowledge and when the storm hit full force, he became lost in the blizzard.  We searched for hours without finding him and had all but given up hope when suddenly here comes Bill riding into the yard just as we were getting ready to head out again.  Joe was sitting right up in front of him, grinning from ear to ear just as if nothing had ever happened.  Bill found him hiding in an old abandoned shack about half way home that I had never seen before.  Seems as if the kids all knew about it and had been using it for a club house.”  Ben paused, looked at Little Joe and their eyes locked as each recalled the time in question.

“I owe that man, much more than I could ever repay.  My son would have died that night if it hadn’t been for Bill.” Ben looked up again at the judge.

“Mr. Judd is fairly new in town.  From all that I have heard, he is basically a good man.  He owns a small spread to the west of my ranch and from what I have been told he raises some mighty fine breeding stock.”

“Your Honor, my son Joseph and I believe it next to impossible that these men intended to do us bodily harm.  We believe that was the sole responsibility of the four men who stood trial earlier.  I do believe that my friends here did intend to try to scare us.  They should have known me well enough to know, I do not scare easily.”  Ben turned to the four defendants who all hung their heads.

“I beg the court to consider all that I have said here today in regard to the character of these men and I ask for mercy in their sentencing.  They have each pled guilty to intent and each has offered a verbal apology to myself, Joseph and my older two sons, which we have excepted.  Thank you Judge.”  Ben stood and returned to his seat slipping his arm about Little Joe’s shoulder as he sat down.

“Well, it seems that you have a very forgiving nature Mr. Cartwright.  I hope the defendants realize what a gracious man you are.  I am not sure I could have been that kind.”  The judge nodded his head at Ben and turned his attention to the four ranchers.

“Will the defendants rise?” ordered Judge Hoffmire.  “I have taken in to consideration what Mr. Cartwright has told me.  It is too bad that the four of you failed to realize that Mr. Cartwright has every right to have you punished to the fullest extent of the law.”  Hoffmire stopped and gave the men time to consider his words.

“However, that appears not to be his motive, nor that of his young son.  I do have an obligation to this court in which I am forced by law to carry through.  Since you have all pled guilty, I have no other recourse than to sentence each of you to two years on two accounts of intent, which equals out to four years each.”  

Ben shook his head as defeat swept over him.  This was not what he had hoped for; four years away from their families would be devastating to all of them.  Ben glanced at the families of the men who all sat behind the railing that separated them from their loved ones.  The older children were crying, their wives had tears in their eyes, and his friends had the saddest faces that Ben had ever seen on grown men.

“These sentences will be…” the judge had started speaking again and a silence so deafening filled the courtroom.  “served here in Virginia City as probation.  There will be requirements that will have to be met; Sheriff Roy Coffee will be in charge of seeing to it that you men abide by the laws.  If, at any time you should fail to comply or step outside the limits of your probation, you will serve the remainder of your sentence in the state penitentiary.  A hearing will be heard, two years from today to review your case.  At such time a judgment will be made as to whether or not to dismiss the rest of your sentencing.”  

Everyone in the courtroom was smiling.  “Gentlemen,” Judge Hoffmire leaned over his desk and eyeballed the four relieved ranchers.  “This has been your lucky day, I think each of you owe Ben Cartwright a word of thanks.  Court dismissed.”  The sound of the gavel banging on the oak desk was lost in the howls that roared within the walls of the Virginia City Courthouse.  

The End


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