RIVER BOAT GAMBLER
PART TWO
Early the next morning, the yard outside the Ponderosa homestead was a hive of activity as Joe and the hands prepared the horses to begin the drive.
Joe had broken about 20 horses over the last nine weeks and out of that number, twelve had been hand picked by him to school for the army as per the arranged contract.
The other eight horses would be left until he returned for some further schooling. Like people, some horses took a little more time to learn than others. They all varied in character and personality.
When Joe first started breaking them in, he started by culling out the rogues in the mob and trying to curb their mean streaks. Once he had calmed the one or two surly horses, the others followed the lead and became much easier and quieter to work with.
After two or three weeks, Joe had already made a mental note of which horses would make good horses for the army and which ones were showing signs of being a little obstinate.
Unfortunately horses that were contracted out to the army didn’t have a very long life span. Most of them were worked exceedingly hard and their living conditions were often harsher than those of fellow horses.
When riding on long treks from one Army fort to another, the horses needed to have steady feet and the endurance to handle long periods on little water and feed. They were also often expected to perform under adverse weather conditions such as rain and burning sun.
Joe took pride in the fact that he
was in charge of selecting the horses and then schooling
them. Over the last few months, Joe’s already well known
reputation as a top horse-man was being spoken of in wider circles both in
The were to be five riders on this
journey to
If the horses got spooked at any time along the trail, it would be the job of the “Ridge Riders” as they were often called to try and stop the horses from getting to far away from the handlers.
Each handler had four horses tethered to each other in a long line. There was a good distance between each horse and enough slack rein between them to ensure enough movement but be short enough to prevent any one of them trying to make a break for it.
The three rows of horses were standing in the yard very calm and still at the moment. The only movement from the animals themselves was the swishing of their tails and shaking of their heads to avoid the copious swarm of flies that were annoying them.
Out of all the horses in the yard at
the moment, the one horse that was showing a little excitement in his gait and
anticipation for the tough ride ahead was Joe’s own
Cochise loved to feel the gentle but firm slight nudges from his rider’s thighs, signalling for him to move in a particular direction, often at great speed and having to change direction in a split section with another tug on his bridle.
Joe was a confident rider and Cochise knew his rider’s instincts and abilities when it came to handling a larger number of horses. The rider and horse often worked better together then two men. Somehow the animal was aware of what his master was wanting him to do.
Just as equally, Joe had come to trust and rely on Cochise in these difficult situations. He knew that the horse didn’t need any extra instruction and was often amazed at how the horse just seemed to know what to do at the right moment.
Joe knew that underneath him was a friend that wouldn’t let him down no matter how hard the trail got and there was always that burst of speed from the horse just at the right time Joe needed it to rein in an animal that had tried to take flight and cause the rest of the mob to become unsettled.
Mark Douglas and Howard Nichols were
both the most skilled horse handlers that Joe had been able to hire over the
last eight weeks or so. Both had proven to be quite good with
horses.
Though at times during the weeks of
schooling, Joe couldn’t help but remember how things had become frayed and
strained at time. Whilst
There had been at least two heated
arguments between Douglas and Joe over the harsh methods
Whilst Joe was one not to let a horse get the better of him, there was absolutely no need for physical violence against them. That only made them less willing to obey commands the next time they had to be handled.
Joe knew that because he was the one
in charge of the operation, despite his usual tendency to lose his temper just
as quick as
Ben stood in the background now as he watched Joe walk along each row of horses, carefully checking the harnessing to make sure everything looked in order. Not that he didn’t trust what Douglas and Nichols had done. It was habit to himself that he made sure things were in order.
Joe was ultimately be in charge of both men and horses and if anything was to happen out on the trail, then he would be relied on to be decisive and make quick and fair judgments based on each occurrence or problem at any given time.
Ben was proud of his son as he watch Joe go through all the rules about horsemanship that he had been taught by both is father and his brothers over the years.
All the teaching was now paying off tenfold as Ben came more and more to rely on Joe to not only manage the horse operation but also to make the contract deals that would see them through each year.
Joe might be young but his heart didn’t rule his head when it came to horses and what was good or bad for the Ponderosa. Ben knew that he could depend on Joe to make the right decisions during these times.
Ben just wished Joe would exercise
some of the same level of intelligence and restraint when it came to his
drinking and gambling in the
Ben knew that he was better being the father of three sons such as Adam, Hoss and Joe. He knew that some other men Joe’s age were much more fond of drinking and gambling than his son.
There were times when Joe and his brothers worked darn hard for weeks on end with very few breaks in between and sometimes he couldn’t begrudge them some social time in town with their various circles of friends.
But there were other times when Joe had shown less than respect for his father’s authority and had snuck out at night to attend a late night pre-arranged all night gambling session at the tables and plenty of alcohol to match. The money he had worked so hard for weeks on end, soon wore a huge hole in his pocket and he would be broke by the end of a pay week again.
Mark Douglas had loaded his meagre
supplies on his horse and was waiting for the young Cartwright drive boss to
give the signal for them to get under way on the road to
He had been standing with Howard
Nichols, watching Joe go over their riggings and check their
work. Usually
This drive was going to be
different. This time the drive boss was almost half his age but had a stubborn
streak in him half a mile wide as though he had been toughened on the trail for
years. Joe was alright when it came to his knowledge about
horses but
Joe Cartwright was the son of a Cattle Baron, Ben Cartwright. Douglas was sure that over the years Joe’s father had taught him that there was a vast divide between the likes of him and the likes of ranch hands and hired help such and himself and Nichols.
It stood to reason,
Joe was now finished checking over the reins and harnesses. He was now checking out the horses themselves. He ran his hands skilfully and slowly down their rumps and then all four legs to make sure there was no sign of heat in the animals fetlocks or muscles.
“How are they holding up son?” Ben asked as he approached his son, trying to drum up what might be the last conversation with Joe for the best part of more than two weeks.
“Quite good actually Pa,” Joe replied as he checked the last horse and stood back up to look at his father as he spoke to him. “No signs of any injuries this time and they are well fed and watered until later on this afternoon. If everything goes okay on the trail, we should make fairly good time today,” he added in hopefulness.
Joe had set himself a schedule at the beginning of the whole contract. The schedule not only factored in the schooling of the horses, but also the time intended to take them on the trail to the army and how much time he may lose during that time and have to try and make up for somewhere if possible.
Joe was his own worst task-master, but that was part of what made up his reputation as a good horseman. Joe would never take the needs of the horses or his men for granted and he made sure that he had was part of every step of preparation along the way.
“Here Lil’ Joe,” Hop Sing said as he came out carrying two largish size saddle bags. One was full of the work clothes that Joe would use on the trail the second one wouldn’t get opened until they reached San Francisco.
The second saddle bag contained some nice dress shirts and pants that he could wear out when he began his holiday after the contract was completed.
“Thanks Hop Sing,” Joe said gratefully, taking the bags from the little Cantonese man and going about attaching them securely to the back of his horse.
There were other saddle bags full of food and essential items that were evenly distributed to the other hands.
“Well just about ready to go I think,” Joe said, more of a statement signalling for the other riders to get mounted and ready to begin. They had an incredibly long and difficult day ahead as it was.
“You take care of yourself Joe, ya hear,” Hoss said firstly as he bid his younger brother farewell. He knew that Pa would have the most to say and left him to come up with the right words that would make Joe listen.
“I’ll bring something back for you from San Francisco, Hoss,” Joe said as he shook his brother’s hand firmly and clapped him solidly on the back.
“That would be real nice of you Joe,” Hoss said.
Adam was the next to stay goodbye. He wanted to give Joe some words of warning of his own about taking care of himself and making it back safely the Ponderosa.
“Make sure you get a good price for those animals Joe. You have worked too hard on them over the last few months not to. Just don’t go spending all of Pa’s good money on yourself when you finally reach San Francisco,” Adam now poked in fun.
“I am definitely not bringing you anything back with all that money I am going to make,” Joe said in quick reply to his brother’s wit. “I’ll let you know how the Barbary Coast looks this time of year big brother,” Joe added and shook Adam’s hand before looking to say goodbye to his father.
“You won’t be going near any such places young man,” Ben said in mock sternness, careful of not falling into the same trap he had only recently with pulling Joe from the saloon. He didn’t want his son thinking that he was becoming overbearing again just because Joe was making idle comments about places that Ben hoped he steered well clear of during his vacation.
“Look son, I don’t want to say too much before you leave,” Ben said, the statement somewhat of a lie. There were many things that he ached to tell the young man but knew he must refrain from doing so.
Adam and Hoss just looked at each other as Ben said this statement and silently grinned between themselves about such a comment from their father.
“I hope the trail goes well for you. When you get there, please let me know that you got there safely. After that, enjoy yourself, but remember that we would like to hear from you once in a while. When you are ready to come back home, we will be waiting right here for you,” Ben said, making sure that he had Joe’s full attention the whole time.
“I will Pa,” Joe said, knowing that there was indeed a large amount of respect and love between he and his father, no matter how much either one of them tried not to show it in front of others. “I’ll see you………” he said as he quickly jumped onto Cochise’s saddle.
Ben smiled and waved at his youngest son as the group of riders each took up their length of reins for the horses they had and started forward on their journey.
He couldn’t help but note that Joe’s last comment had held no real indication whether the boy was coming home or not. He had made no mention of coming back to the Ponderosa.
“He’ll come back Pa,” Adam said as he and Hoss walked over and stood beside their father. They could see the concern he held for his son.
Ben knew that his two eldest son’s were trying their best to cheer him up. He wouldn’t put his worries to rest until after he received that telegram from San Francisco telling them that he had arrived.
Maybe he could catch a stage to the city after Joe arrived and join him on his vacation he pondered, but then scolded himself for falling back into old habits yet again about wanting to watch over Joe.
***********************************************************
Coming towards the second day on the trail and Joe was already beginning to see signs that the tempers of the men were becoming frayed. The group had started out at a relatively good pace but the road was not as smooth as he would have liked.
The ground was uneven in places, making the need for concentration on the horses behaving even greater. In addition to the terrain being a hindrance, by midday the sun was beating down upon them mercilessly.
Joe suspected that he, Douglas and Nichols got a better deal than the Ridge Riders. He had seen them take off their shirts on the first night and noted how sunburned the back of their necks had been where the collars didn’t fully meet the brim of their hats.
Water was at a premium though on this trail and they were fortunate enough to have found a stream nearby on each night to soak some of the aches out of their muscles.
Joe had to concern himself with the prospect that the water might grow scarce as the trail lengthened. There might come a day when they would have only their own meagre water canteens to sustain them through may long and hot hours.
The landscape itself was particularly dry this time of year. Joe could remember passing along this way during cooler months and not having witnessed the barrenness that seemed to exist now.
At night when the men were camped, Joe could feel their alienating stares towards him and their reluctance to involve him in any friendly conversation. He didn’t take it to heart and knew that the men were uncomfortable with a younger man giving them directions and orders.
Nichols had complained a couple of times about the fact that the camp was a dry one. He had been on other drives that had allowed the workers to indulge in a drink around the campfire, so long as it didn’t get out of hand and the stock were cared for.
On this trip however, Joe had made it clear from the very start that there would be no alcohol consumption until they reached the way station at Peak’s Crossing. It was a small place that usually catered for the passengers changing stages and heading either west or east, depending on their intentions.
They would reach Peak’s Crossing in two days time, with only the final leg of the drive to be completed. Joe had agreed to allow the men to have a social drink when they got there and no more. They would be able to enjoy their drink and gambling all they liked once they reached San Francisco and the task at hand was finished.
Joe had seen words of objection on Douglas’s lips, but stood his ground and never backed down from the larger built man. He needed the men to believe that he was in control of this trip and everything that happened on it, including the workers.
The men needed to know that once a decision was made and a direction given, that it was to be carried out as quickly and accurately as possible. Joe tried to employ many of the same tactics and mannerisms that he had seen Adam and his father use towards the hands on similar trips or back at the ranch.
Douglas had walked away with a scowl on his face, but let the matter drop for the time being. His eyes flashed dangerously as he sat by the fire and looked back at Joe.
Joe had ignored the glare and gone about checking each individual horse again that night for any signs of lameness or injury to their legs. He needed to make sure that there were no underlying problems that would go undetected until something occurred out on the trail when they least expected it. Douglas had already told him that the animals were still in good condition, but Joe wanted to satisfy himself of that.
Joe found himself taking over much of the watch patrol at night if only to prove to himself that he could take on such a large responsibility and come out the other end with the respect from the men he had chosen. He had a few hours sleep each night and spent most of the time going back over the intended route in his head.
Joe lay down on his bedroll that second night, forcing himself to relax, but also telling himself that he needed to keep a closer eye on Nichols and Douglas for the remainder of the journey.
The first two days after Joe left had played out entirely differently back at the Ponderosa. The family had tried to go about their routine as normally as possible, but little things began happening that only reminded them of the fact that the family was incomplete.
Whilst Ben was surely the most worried and concerned about his son’s absence, he had plenty of reason to think that Hoss and Adam and indeed even Hop Sing were missing the youngest Cartwright every bit as much as he was.
On the first night when Joe would have been having coffee and a meal over an open fire, his father and brothers were dining at the table at the Ponderosa. The chatter was friendly enough and there was even some laughter amongst the conversation.
To Ben it felt strange that there wasn’t any boisterous interruptions as they spoke or funny faces being pulled between Hoss and Joe as they often did. The food was good and the company was enjoyable, but it just didn’t seem the same. His eyes drifting to the vacant chair on his right on more than one occasion that night.
Hoss was most embarrassed the next morning when he had accidentally walked into Joe’s room, as if to wake him for the day ahead as was normally his task most mornings.
He came out of the room shaking his head at forgetting that Joe was away only to give a sheepish grin to his father and brother who had watched him with raised eyebrows.
“I forgot,” Hoss offered in a shy voice and went downstairs to hide his embarrassment at the breakfast table.
It was soon discovered that it wasn’t only the larger Cartwright who had temporarily forgotten that Joe was away from the ranch. Ben and Adam had joined Hoss at the breakfast table and were preparing to eat when Hop Sing came into the room laden with china plates.
Hop Sing went to lay out the plates like he did three times a day and shook his head at himself when he came to the fourth plate and realised that he had gotten out one too many.
Adam and Hoss had laughed quietly at the oriental man’s mistake, but Ben knew that Joe’s absence was affecting everyone in the family, including Hop Sing.
Although they knew that Joe was only away on a routine horse drive, and had been away in the past, they couldn’t help but think that the trip would soon be over and that Joe would be making some other important decisions in his life: such as whether he was coming back or not.
Later in the day, Adam had come out of his room, ticked off that it seemed his younger brother had yet again seen it necessary to take a book from his room without asking for it. He knew that Joe wouldn’t damage the book but wasn’t able to confront him about it either at the moment.
Adam walked into Joe’s room and found the missing book on his bedside table, laying there just as innocently as you please. The bed was made and the room was clean and tidy, but as he looked about and noticed the silence within, he couldn’t help but think to himself about how much the atmosphere in the room changed when the usual occupant was away.
Funny how you don’t know what you miss until it’s gone Ben whispered to himself as he raised his coffee cup to his lips and sipped at the hot liquid by the fireplace late that night.
The second night, Ben and his boys were about to stumble across some information that would later prove vital, only they didn’t realise it at that time. Hoss and Adam had offered to take their father to dinner at the hotel in Virginia City to try and get him thinking of other things for a few hours instead of Joe.
It had worked at first and Ben felt a little more relaxed than he would have like to admit to once they had eaten and were now talking quietly over a coffee.
“Howdy Ben, Hoss, Adam,” Sheriff Roy Coffee said as he walked into the establishment and greeted the family. “What brings you into town to eat tonight?” he asked, knowing that dining out for the family was not an every night occurrence.
“Had to bring him out before Hop Sing quit Roy,” Hoss said with a chuckle. “He was ranting and raving about everyone not eating his cooking and so to keep the peace tonight we thought we’d bring Pa here.”
Roy laughed at the comment but knew all too well that their thoughts were about Little Joe. Another voice now interrupted everyone’s train of thought for a minute as someone behind him spoke.
“How are you this evening Mr Cartwright?” the hotel clerk asked, directing his question specifically at Ben. He knew the amount of influence that a man in Ben’s position held over many folk in Virginia City and wanted to see that his best patron was well looked after tonight.
“Fine thanks, Harry,” Ben said warmly to the clerk. He didn’t particularly like all of the attention, but knew that the man was only trying to do his job.
“Say did that stranger in town the other day finally meet up with Joe?” the clerk asked innocently.
“What stranger?” Hoss asked, confused by the question. He could see his father and brother now taking a little keener interest in what the clerk had to say as well.
Suddenly the clerk looked uncomfortable, as if he had told a secret that he had promised to keep. “Um, I am sorry, Mr Cartwright, I wouldn’t have said anything now except for the fact that I thought you already knew him.”
“Who was he Harry?” Roy asked, seeing a little uneasiness creep into Ben’s demeanour.
“Well, I don’t rightly remember his name. ‘Cept for the fact that he was all dressed up like them folk back east. Came to the hotel and booked a room. I took his bags up to the room myself. As soon as we got there he asked where he might find a place where younger people socialised,” he explained.
“Doesn’t seem to be any harm in that,” Hoss said, beginning to think that they were getting edgy over nothing.
“No Hoss, but the funny thing is that he started asking about places that Joe might go to,” the clerk said, wringing his hands together nervously as he spoke.
“Why would he be specifically looking for Joe?” Ben asked, now a little more intrigued, not being able to forget that if something was amiss that his son was now quite a distance away for him to be of any help.
“He didn’t seem like a dangerous man Ben, quite the opposite actually,” the clerk said, trying to expel any of Ben’s already mounting concerns. “Like I said, he was dressed up and didn’t carry a gun that I could see. I told him to try the local saloon.”
“Wait a minute, that might have been the same day you dragged Joe out of there Pa,” Hoss voiced. Adam was now deep in his own thoughts about what connections this apparent stranger might have had with his youngest brother.
“Did you have any other dealing with this man Harry?” Ben asked.
“Well yes, he came down early yesterday morning before the stage departed and was asking about which route to take if someone was going to San Francisco,” the clerk mumbled.
If Ben’s wasn’t concerned before, upon hearing this statement he couldn’t hide it any longer. Why would someone be looking for Joe? he worried, knowing there could be any number of reasons.
“Hold up there a minute Ben, if this is the guy I saw getting on the stage this morning, then he got on the wrong stage. He was headed in the other direction, away from Joe,” Roy informed them.
“Are you sure Roy?” Ben
questioned.
”Yeah Ben, saw him get on it myself, not a minute before it left,” Roy
affirmed. “He will have to wait until the day after tomorrow to get
another stage in this direction or get on one to San Francisco.
“I only saw two other men get on the stage towards San Francisco after he had already left,” Roy stated. Little did he and Ben know that these two men had been bought off as spies by Marchant Seline.
Seline had paid particular attention to detail and made sure that the Sheriff and other witnesses saw him leave on a different stage in case questions were asked at a later time.
Ben’s concern seemed to diminish a little at this piece of information. Maybe the man had heard Joe’s name somewhere and was just trying to catch up as an old acquaintance.
“Well we had better be off towards home now anyway,” Ben announced. “Got a busy day planned tomorrow. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about with this stranger, seeing as how he went the opposite way from Joe.”
“I can get in contact with the stage that left this morning Ben, if that will ease your mind any. But I won’t be able to get an answer back for two or three days. The telegraph from those remote places is slower than normal and that’s if they have one in the first place.
Ben was about to refuse the offer at first, but something in the pit of his stomach changed his mind. “That would be appreciated Roy,” he said, putting a hand on the Sheriff’s shoulder before heading out the door.
On the ride home, Ben admonished his own thoughts and reminded himself that Joe was now over two days away from Virginia City and that he was unlikely to come into contact with the stranger anytime soon.
*****************************************************
Sunlight was just beginning to fade on day three of Joe’s horse drive, when he came across a nicely shaded area and told the men to make camp for the night and attend to the horses.
Douglas, Nichols and the two Ridge Riders went about tying ropes around a few of the trees to act as a temporary corral for the animals. But the aches in their muscles made them become complacent and more worried about their own need for food and refreshment over the well-being and security of the horses.
Nichols had tied the lead ropes from the horses to the rope barriers, but they were not tight enough and would not stand up under sudden stress or movement from the horses.
Douglas and the other two riders concerned themselves with digging a right angled pit in the middle of the camp area and brewing some much sort after hot coffee.
Initially Joe had thought that everything was under control enough for him to slip down to the freshwater stream a short distance away and try and rub some of the dust and grit out of his eyes.
Joe wandered down to the water and dipped his hands into it. The soothing feeling was almost immediate and he suddenly wished he could plunge his entire body into such refreshing and cool surroundings. His muscles literally begged for him to submerge them, but he held himself back and knew that he couldn’t afford the luxury of a bath right now.
For the time being he had to be content with just removing his shirt and splashing the cold water over his neck and shoulders, closing his eyes and revelling in the relief.
Joe slung his shirt over his shoulders and picked up his gun belt and began walking back towards the rest of the men at the camp. His hat was on his head and he held onto his rifle in his left hand.
Joe had only just rested his rifle against the trunk of a tree when he heard a wild and panicked yell from behind him from the men. Suddenly the entire camp was a whirl with dust as the horses broke free of their confinement and tried to take off.
“The horses are loose,” one of the men shouted. “Get the horses.”
Joe was forced to drop any thing else he had been holding in his hands and try and help calm the frightened animals enough to stop them fleeing in panic.
Fortunately for Joe and the men, the fact that the horses were tethered together in threes, made it slightly easier to catch them. Joe knew that if the horses had been separated, then they would have had little or no chance of rounding them all up without a long chase.
The dust grew thicker and thicker until all the men were coughing harshly, feeling the grit and dirt in their mouths and noses. The dust was choking from all of the hooves, making visibility very poor and the risk of serious injury great if one of the horses was to kick out suddenly.
It took over an hour to finally round the skittish animals up and retie the flimsy knots with stronger ones that wouldn’t loosen. Joe had just finished tying the last knot, whilst the other four men were gathered around the camp fire, taking large drinks from their water canteens to try and wash down the dirt and grit still in their mouths.
All of them had slumped shoulders from the extra exertion. They already had sore and aching muscles from the day’s journey. Now they reignited ten fold in all with having to try and run just to catch the animals.
Joe was no different from any of the men, say for the fact that he probably had a lot more dirt on him due to being without his shirt at the time. Most of his chest and back were now covered in a thin layer of dust as too his face. His hair hung in limp tendrils about his face, plastered there with the amount of sweat he was producing.
The men could see Joe walking towards them and would have laughed out loud at the sight of the drive boss had it not been for the piercing look from his green eyes that narrowed in the direction of Nichols and Douglas.
The two Ridge Riders had enough sense about them and Joe’s temper to back away a little, leaving the two main offenders to face the Cartwright’s wrath on their own.
Douglas seemed to be indifferent to the whole thing and didn’t seem the least bit interested that the whole trip had almost come to an abrupt halt not to mention the risk of injury to both man and animal. Joe had taken a closer look at the horses as he reconstructed the rope made corral and was thankful that none of the horses had to be put down.
Nichols saw Joe approaching with an angry look on his face and looked towards the ground knowing that the securing of the horses had been mainly Douglas’s and his responsibility.
Douglas made no attempt to look at Joe as he walked towards them, choosing instead to casually pour himself a cup of coffee from the pot still brewing beside the camp fire.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” Joe demanded angrily. His shoulders were taunt with his temper making his muscles more defined and sharper in appearance.
“I don’t know what you are talking about Little Joe,” Douglas replied calmly, looking briefly at Nichols and giving a smirk as if to confirm that he knew Cartwright’s temper was getting the better of him.
“Oh you don’t do you,” Joe said, knocking the coffee pot out of his hand and letting the contents spill out and soak into the earth. “You and Nichols were supposed to tie those ropes properly to prevent this happening in the first place,” he accused.
“We did Mr Cartwright, but I guess we were a little more tired than we first thought. We needed to get some coffee and something to eat,” Nichols chimed in looking at Douglas for back up.
“Let me tell you something Mister, those animals are our priority at the moment. You don’t eat, sleep or do anything else until they are looked after and seen too properly. This is a drive, not a picnic. I am paying you good money to do your jobs and I expect them to be done without question,” Joe said, trying to control his temper but still seething at the care-free attitude they both seemed to have adopted.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Joe asked Nichols, his eyes staring down at the man. Nichols however always had a cowardly side to him and looked towards Douglas first before answering.
“I asked YOU the question. Don’t ask him, answer me,” Joe demanded. He had seen Nichols look to Douglas for confirmation or an answer on a few occasions over the last few days, but up until now had held his tongue.
“I guess we just slackened off a some Joe,” Nichols offered in apology.
“Damn right you two slackened off. Well it’s not going to happen again. I still have to rely on you two to help get these horses as far as San Francisco. After that I don’t care what you do. So get this camp site cleaned up and then get into your bed rolls and get some sleep because it’s going to be an early rise in the morning,” Joe said, his voice not being able to portray his frustration enough.
For the second time that day, Joe picked up a small hand towel and draped it over his bare and dusty shoulder as he headed down to the stream to clean up.
Douglas had kept quiet while Joe had berated him and Nichols over their carelessness. He knew they were at fault but still didn’t like the fact being thrown back in their faces and chastised in front of the other men.
Normally he wouldn’t have stood for such a talking down from someone half his age, but he had to admit that the kid handled the situation no differently than his old man would have. He was sort of glad it was Joe and not Ben Cartwright he had faced for such foolhardy behaviour.
Ben would have had no hesitation in giving him and Nichols their marching papers, even out here in the middle of the drive. Ben had a reputation for being fair and honest with his workers, but it was also well known that he demanded that they keep focused on their assigned jobs.
Maybe Joe Cartwright had learned a great deal more from his father than Douglas initially gave him credit for. Given the circumstances, they were currently in the camped in the middle of nowhere so there little point in making a great fuss of it out here.
Later that night, Joe had taken over watch duty and leaned quietly against a tree, gazing about the surrounding darkness, using his ears and keen senses for any sign of wild animals that might be alerted by the scent of the horses.
He began thinking over what he had said to the two men Douglas and Nichols and how he had handled the situation. It could have easily escalated even more and gotten out of hand for all involved.
Joe tried to envisage how his father would have handled such a matter or Adam. He had tried to remember back to times back on the ranch where workers had to be chastised for things they had done carelessly or dangerously.
He was thankful that things had turned out alright in the end but knew that the mood amongst the men tomorrow would be much more reserved and sombre, even a little unfriendly and non-talkative.
The next morning in camp, the atmosphere was as unfriendly as Joe surmised the night before. The Ridge Riders had risen and eaten and greeted Joe while he poured his coffee.
As soon as Douglas and Nichols rose from their bed rolls, they made themselves scarce and went to attend the horses before they were due to get underway on what was no doubt going to be a long torturously hot day.
The trail that day was as hot and monotonous as it had been the previous three days. With very little in the way of scenery and even less in conversation, Joe was forced to keep his eyes open for any signs of trouble.
The sweat that dripped from the men ran off their bodies in exhausting amounts, making the need to drink water essential to keep moving and stay alert.
As luck would have it, this night the group of riders would be lucky enough to have sheltered accommodations for the evening instead of the rocky hard ground they had endured so far on the trip.
Luck smiled upon them as a stage way station that Joe had known about before they left the Ponderosa. There was an audible sigh of relief from all at the sight of the small, mud brick building that was surrounded by a few poorly maintained corrals.
The slower pace throughout the day had Joe contemplating whether they would even reach this place by now. At one point he thought the trip might be unavoidably lengthened and they would not come across the crossing until mid tomorrow morning.
A man in his mid 50’s came out of the building at the sound of the horses. Joe had wired the man a week ago to tell them of their impending arrival sometime late this week and the need for shelter for both the men and the horses.
The man’s name was Hank Sullivan. He and his wife Lillian ran the small stage stop, offering a little piece of comfort to most travellers passing by this way before they headed east or west to their intended destinations.
“I take it you’re Joe Cartwright,” Sullivan said as he greeted the men before they dismounted from their horses. Sullivan had actually been addressing Mark Douglas, thinking that the older man would be in charge of the drive.
“No he’s not, I am Joe Cartwright,” Joe said, hiding his frustration that he was overlooked just because he appeared much younger than expected. “I believe you received my wire telling you that we would be arriving?” he asked, putting aside any hurt feelings he was harbouring.
“Sorry Mister Cartwright, I didn’t mean any offence, just assumed that you would be older,” Sullivan offered in apology.
“Yeah I get that a lot unfortunately, but you can called me Joe,” the young man replied, feeling that his age and lack of experience was being held out in front of him. This was exactly the type of treatment and misunderstanding that he was trying to escape back in Virginia City.
“The corrals are all ready for you Joe, they are a little older than I would like to admit, but they will keep the animals there until morning until your ready to leave again.
When you are finished there, Lillian has supper almost ready and there is plenty of whisky to go around if you or any of your workers are of a mind to have a drink,” Sullivan instructed.
“I suppose a couple of drinks couldn’t hurt,” Joe said to the men, knowing that the day had been rough on all. “Douglas, you and Nichols get inside and stow our gear while you other two men and I get the horses penned in the corral. When you are finished get some of the dirt off you and get some food into you. I don’t mind you having one or two drinks, but don’t let it go to your head, we still have at least a full day ahead tomorrow and we have to cross the river.”
Douglas and Nichols didn’t voice any objections to the order of events, nor did either of the Ridge Riders, thankful to be able to get out of the saddle for a couple of hours and enjoy a meal without moving around on the back of a horse.
An hour and a half later, Joe and the two Ridge Riders found themselves as dusty and dirty as the day before, but thankfully heading off to their rooms for a long awaited bath and shave before heading into the main room for dinner.
The bath water was cold but after being on the road for three days with nothing but the running water in the streams for their complaints, a tin bath that was big enough to soak in was considered a luxury and gratefully accepted.
By the time Little Joe had finished and made himself more presentable, the other men had already made it to the meal table and were halfway through their dinner. The only other people in the room Joe noted apart from his own men were two strangers seated together at a smaller table.
The two strangers were dressed in travelling clothes, both of slim build but Joe couldn’t shake the feeling that they were watching him as soon as he walked into the room.
Lillian Sullivan was serving the food and drink and greeted him warmly before seating Joe at the far end of the table and placing a plate in front of him. He had no doubts that the food couldn’t be as good as what he was used to from Hop Sing. But the food was hot and plentiful and he was grateful to be eating something that hadn’t been char grilled over an open flame.
Joe ate his meal slowly and was almost finished when he noted that the conversation between the other men at the other end of the table was growing louder and somewhat boisterous.
He had seen that Douglas and Nichols in particular had taken onboard too much to drink, after he specifically remembered telling them to take it easy. He had a good mind to confront them here and now but erred on the side of caution and found his attention drifting back towards the two strangers seated in the room.
“Hi my name’s Joe,” he said as he walked over giving starting off the conversation. He hadn’t been able to shake the idea that they had been watching him all night so decided to take up the task and approach them first. He offered a firm handshake to both men, who had returned the greeting.
“Won’t you have a seat with us Joe,” the thin man said. “My name is Foster Edwards and this is my associate Bob Yeager,” he said in introduction.
“Joe Cartwright,” offering his full name before sitting down in the vacant chair.
“What brings you to these lonely parts then Mr Cartwright?” Yeager asked casually, giving a quick unseen glance at his partner after finishing the question.
“Taking some horses to San Francisco tomorrow,” Joe replied, not having any need or reason as to hide the reason for his journey. Most probably the two strangers had already heard the men talking about the trip and would have heard the horses arrive in the yard anyway.
“Well I must say that makes for more interesting work than we are used to performing I am afraid,” Edwards remarked.
“What line of business are you in?” Joe asked, out of courteousness rather than genuine interest.
“None at the moment Mr Cartwright I am sad to say. Bob and myself are travelling west in search of work. Up until now we have been back east and had steady incomes but have fallen on hard times of late, if you know what I mean,” Edwards explained.
There was no disguising what the men were driving at though. Joe had heard many men address the same areas with his father when they were subtly enquiring about jobs that might be around.
“Too bad I am headed in the wrong direction then,” Joe said, hoping that they would take the hint that he didn’t have any openings for either of them.
Before any more conversation could take place, a large scuffle from behind was breaking out between his men. Joe quickly got up to try and douse the situation before it got out of control. He could see from the redness of Douglas’s face that the man had had way to much to drink and was now alcohol driven in his anger.
“Douglas, your drunk!” Joe said with an air of distain in his voice. “Get to bed and sober up.” he added, not wanting to discuss the man’s flagrant disregard for his orders in front of the others in the room.
“Don’t you tell me what to do, Cartwright,” Douglas slurred back, pointing a finger and lightly poking Joe in the chest. “I was doing this job long before your Daddy even let you ride your pony around the yard.”
“Yeah, Little Joe, we don’t need the likes of you telling us how to handle horses. We’ve been doing it a long time now,” Nichols piped in, egged on by his friend’s boldness.
By now Joe’s temper had risen from nothing to new heights in the blink of an eye. Not only were the two men drunk so that they swayed on their feet, but they had the adicity to insult him to his face.
“I have had enough of the pair of you,” Joe said, his voice deliberately lower and deeper than most others would have heard him use. This was a time when Joe could feel the anger almost take over him and it took all of his concentration not to let that happen now.
“What are you going to do about it, Little Joe?” Douglas said in taunt, over exaggerating his body language in a mocking tone towards Joe.
“You are both fired. Here’s twenty dollars each for the two of you and that’s even twice the amount of work you have done on this trip so far,” Joe said, seething with frustration as he pulled out his wallet and handed over the notes. “I don’t want to see your two faces anywhere near the Ponderosa again.”
In the back of the room, Edwards and Yeager both looked at each other, knowing that the perfect opportunity had just presented itself to them about how to keep tabs on Joe after he was ready to leave tomorrow.
“But you can’t do that, how are you going to get those horses to San Francisco without us,” Nichols whined, almost sorry he had gone along with Douglas now.
Joe knew that it was indeed a major problem at this point in time. He knew he still had two Ridge Riders that might be able to take over the leading of the horses for Douglas and Nichols, but that would leave them no scouts out wider against unforseen things along their trail.
Joe frowned slightly as he tried to come up with an answer while Douglas and Nichols still carried their smug faces. He didn’t want to admit defeat to them just yet and let them come back into employment, but he also couldn’t leave the horses where they were here or expect to get them to San Francisco on his own.
“Um, Mr Cartwright, may we be of service?” Edwards asked as he walked behind Joe and tapped him on the shoulder.
“What do you mean? Don’t bug me right now I am trying to think,” Joe said to the man, trying desperately to come up with a plausible solution. He had no way of knowing that Edwards and Yeager were offering.
“No, Mr Cartwright, you don’t understand. From overhearing your conversation right now, I believe you are in need of some further hands to help with your horses,” Edwards persisted.
Joe now turned to the man and began to understand what he was trying to say. He found himself looking both Edwards and Yeager up and down and wondering just how much experience in handling horses either of them had.
“You mean you……..,” Joe said, leaving the sentence unfinished as the two men nodded their heads in acknowledgement of what he was thinking to himself.
“That’s right, Joe, just like I said, Bob and myself are currently looking for work and you need two men to do the job,” he said, making it plainer about his intentions.
Joe looked from the two relatively new strangers to Douglas and Nichols who were just as surprised as Joe himself to hear the offer of helping out. They doubted the two had any experience, but it did mean them losing their jobs.
Douglas had a look on his face that just infuriated Joe even more: I dare you was all over his sweaty face knowing that the two newcomers would probably more of a hindrance to the journey rather than help.
“What riding experience to either of you have?” Joe asked.
“We arrived here by stage, Mr Cartwright, but I assure you that both of us can ride horses very well, in fact we have been on such journeys as this before,” Edwards lied. “The only question would be the acquiring of mounts for ourselves if we are to continue on with you.”
“Oh I don’t think that will be a problem, Mr Edwards,” Joe said with a sly grin, looking directly at Douglas as he spoke, watching the smugness fall away and be replaced by anger of his own. “There are two horses stabled out in the barn that need riders. Mr Edwards, Mr Yeager, welcome aboard, you are both hired.”
“But…. but you can’t do that, Cartwright, what will we do for horses?” Nichols asked indignantly, knowing that Joe was intending to give the horse he had been riding up until now to one of the other men.
“Those horses belong to my father Ben Cartwright and the Ponderosa Nichols.
At this point in time they belong to me and I choose who will ride them. You seem incapable of completing the job you were hired to do so the tools of the trade get handed to the next hand,” Joe said as the harshness started creeping back into his voice.
By now, Douglas knew that Joe had meant what he said about being fired. His own anger began to match that of Joe’s earlier, spurred on by the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it right now in front of all these witnesses.
Douglas came within an inch of Joe’s face and uttered an ominous warning:
“Next time we come across each other, you had better be ready, Cartwright, because I am going to be coming after you and there will be nobody else around to stop us. Just you and me,” Douglas snarled.
“Any time your ready, Douglas,” Joe said in reply, his voice again low and dangerous and his green eyes flashing with defiance.
For the next few seconds, everything in the room went silent as everyone watched the stand-off between the two. To their surprise though, the argument didn’t escalate any further and Douglas seemed to back down some.
“Come on let’s get out of here,” Douglas growled to Nichols and the two men left the room, glancing back briefly at Joe.
Hank Sullivan was the first to break the tension in the room, “Well that all sounded a little nasty,” he said in a cheerful voice, wiping the beads of nervous sweat from his forehead. At one point he was sure that he and his wife would be wiping somebody’s blood off the floor that night.
“I have to thank you for your generosity, Joe,” Edwards now piped up, trying to smooth things over a little and to make sure that the young man didn’t draw any inferences that he and Yeager had anything on their minds but sincerity.
“Generosity nothing,” Joe snapped, using up the last of his temper with the words. “I hired you two to work for me and I expect you to pull your weight tomorrow just like I did those two.”
With that statement, Joe no longer felt like anybody else’s company or more food or drink and retired to his room for the night.
With Joe now out of the room and out of ear-shot, Edwards and Yeager retired to the corner of the room where they had been previously sitting and talked to each other about what would be expected of them tomorrow from both Joe Cartwright and their employer Marchant Seline.
Joe was up early the next morning, knowing that a lot was demanded on him today both mentally and physically. Even though he had signed on two new hands to replaced Douglas and Nichols, he was under no misconception that Edwards and Yeager were anywhere near as skilled with leading horses.
Edwards and Yeager turned up on time like they were supposed to which was a good sign in itself. Joe had already informed the two Ridge Riders that they may be required to relieve the two new hands at some stage during the day if they were not coping or were having obvious difficulties.
Lillian Sullivan had given them some fresh food to take for later in the day for which Joe was grateful and most appreciative. He promptly paid the account for the over-night lodging of both men and horses. He thanked the couple for their hospitality and mounted Cochise ready to leave.
There was about an hours ride to Peak’s Crossing. During the distance from the way station to the river, Joe made sure that he was at the back of the group, keeping an eye on everything in front of him.
At least the early morning was a little better to travel in so far. The sun had only just shone over the tops of the trees and was more of a nuisance at that angle than blazing hot yet. Joe found himself squinting against the harsh light reflecting off the approaching water.
To their credit Edwards and Yeager had managed to lead the horses up until this point. The animals were still a little skittish from breaking free a couple of nights ago, but the night in a corral had done much to calm them down.
There were a few times when the two men seemed more interested in looking back to see where Joe was rather than keep their eyes in front. Joe soon reprimanded each of them though, making sure that they understood the importance of keeping their eyes on the horses at all times when they were travelling.
Edwards seemed to adhere to Joe’s words and there were no further distractions while they headed towards the crossing. He hoped it continued for the remainder of the trip to San Francisco. They were still a good six hours out and the sun would soon be well overhead and making the journey scorchingly hot once again before they reached their destination.
“Hold up a minute,” Joe instructed the others, wanting to make sure of the water depth and strength of the current before allowing the others to cross.
The two Ridge Riders went ahead of Joe and waited on the other side in case they were needed to assist in helping the animals across. The water, though only about waist deep on the men, was moving and this was not the time or place to become lax or complacent.
Joe had dismounted from Cochise and lead his horse through the water, feeling both the temperature of the water and looking for any unseen obstacles underneath the surface that might impede their progress.
Joe reached the other side of the narrow river crossing without any difficulties, and while standing on the opposite bank with dripping wet trousers, gave a signal to Edwards and Yeager to start bringing their horses across very slowly.
Edwards and Yeager remained on their horses as they started heading into the water. It wasn’t until they were a good two thirds of the way across that it was clear that something was wrong.
“What the hell are you doing stopping half way across?” Joe shouted at the two men.
It then struck Little Joe that they hadn’t stopped at all, but rather the current was becoming too strong and making any progress almost unnoticeable.
The stronger the current, the more frightened the horses became to the point of almost wrestling the reins from Edwards hand on one occasion. It was when Joe saw that the men were coming dangerously close to losing their already tenuous control over the situation that he knew he had to enter the water himself.
Joe urged Cochise forward and even after the first few feet of water, knew why the other horses where getting so scared. Even on his own horse, Joe could feel the pressure of the water rushing against the pinto’s flanks and legs.
It was only from sheer brute strength on Joe’s part that he prevented his own horse from wanting to flee. Joe couldn’t let this happen or Cochise would reel and he would be dumped into the water too, along side the flaying hooves of the startled animals.
Joe gripped the reins with both hands, not daring to try his usual one-handed riding abilities due to the swirling current. He tried to rub the horse’s mane in a soothing action to calm Cochise down, hoping the same effect would flow onto the other animals.
By now, Yeager had lost hold of his horses and these were now quickly trying to move towards the opposite bank and scramble up the silted surface to safety. Being tied together, their fright was added to threefold with a great risk of injury in trying to bring them back under control.
Together, knowing that their own lives depended on their actions, Edwards and Yeager worked to get one line of horses across the remainder of the river. That left only one group in the water, which Joe was now pursuing a little further down stream.
Finally, Joe managed to get a hold of the horses and urge them up onto the river bank. He and the horses ended up some quarter of a mile down stream from the others, but it had been a tremendous struggle by the end.
Joe led the still skittish horses back to the others and allowed the animals to rest. He got down off Cochise and leant over slightly, resting his hands on his knees, trying to breath in a little deeper after such a physical encounter.
His shoulders ached painfully where he had to use all of his muscle power to stop the horses yanking themselves free again. The inside of his thighs were sore where he had to use them against Cochise’s flanks to guide her through the water.
Upon looking at the saddle on his horse that needed straightening a little, he was loath to find that he had lost one of the bags carrying his good clothes in the river. There was very little if no chance of getting it back. Yet another set back in a trip that was quickly etching itself into Joe’s memory as his worst.
There was no doubt that he would have to buy a whole new wardrobe once he reached San Francisco and for the mean time, because he only had one spare change in the bag that was still secured on Cochise, he would have to travel the rest of the way in the sodden and torn shirt and trousers he currently wore.
Joe was grateful for the fact that his favourite green jacket had survived the onslaught and was only in need of a thorough cleaning to remove the mud that now stained the fabric.
As if to add insult to injury, Joe placed a hand in his pocket, inspecting what was left of his clothes. He screwed up his face at the unwelcome feeling he had when he withdrew his hand and had a palm full of silt and dirt from the river.
“Come on, let’s get going. I want to be in San Francisco today and I don’t care if it is dark when we get there,” he said in frustration, hurling the mud onto the ground and mounting his horse ready to resume their interrupted trip.
Thankfully for Joe, the fact that he and his clothes were so wet from the river, as were Edwards and Yeager, made the hot breeze that blew into their faces was made a little bearable.
After another six hours of riding against heat, flies and the still unco-operating horses, Joe had never saw a more pleasing site than the sign on the side of the road indicating that they had finally made it to San Francisco.
The sun was only an hour or so away from setting and Joe was so sore it almost hurt to think of having to move just to get down off the horse again. As his clothes had dried with the hot wind in his face, the mud seemed to act as a crude glue against his clothes, the fabric now dry and brittle to the touch.
The team’s first stop of course was the army barracks to be free of the horses once and for all. A very tired and mud covered Joe rode into the yard and knocked on the door.
Edwards and Yeager remained on their horses, waiting for Joe’s next set of instructions.
“Yes may I help you,” a small man said answering the door. His look of distain and shock was hard to hide when he looked upon the bedraggled appearance of Joe.
For a brief instant, the man thought the group must be lost men seeking refuge and shelter. While he wasn’t completely wrong in his assumption, the answer that Joe gave him was not what he had been expecting at all.
“My name is Joe Cartwright. I have some horses from the Ponderosa to deliver to your commanding officer, a Major Branson,” Joe stated, his eyes beginning to ache dreadfully from the day’s travel.
The man looked dubious and was about to send Joe on his way and berate the men for coming to the door with such a story when another man came to the door.
“Little Joe,” the voice said, looking at the young man and noting his condition.
“Hi Keith,” Joe said, giving a half-smile as he spotted the raised eyebrow at his clothes and mud-streaked hair.
“Glad to see you made it in one piece Joe,” Branson joked.
“Barely, but I got here. If you don’t mind Keith, I would rather wait until tomorrow when my eyes are open to talk. I just want to get these horses into their corral and then go over to the hotel and have a bath and something to eat,” Joe explained.
“Sure Joe, rough trip was it?” Branson commented, instructing two younger officers on guard duty in the yard to relieve Joe and his men of the horses. He then offered a cool bucket of water and cup to the trio, noting their parched and cracked lips from many hours of riding in the sun.
“You have no idea,” Joe said with a flash of anger in his eyes, but with a look that told the Major there were plenty of stories to share the next day. Somehow from the look on Joe’s face, Keith knew that things hadn’t exactly gone as Joe would have liked.
“Well you go and get some well earned rest Joe and I will meet you at the bank at 10.00am tomorrow to organize for the funds to be deposited into the bank,” Branson said.
“Yeah Keith, I will see you. I don’t suppose the telegraph office is open at this hour either?” Joe asked, a little hope in his voice.
Joe remembered his promise to his father of sending a message as soon as he reached San Francisco. Most likely the clerk would have to write it for Joe who couldn’t even stop his hand from shaking at the moment from the fatigue that plagued him. But at least a message would be sent.
“Sorry Joe, but the telegraph office won’t be open until tomorrow morning now,” Branson replied.
“Oh well, I will just have to leave a few minutes earlier before I meet you at the bank tomorrow morning,” Joe commented.
With this Joe now mounted back on Cochise, his posture portraying just how tired he was. He hoped that he had enough left to stay awake to reach the hotel and clean some of the dirt and grime off himself.
Yeager and Edwards travelled behind Joe in addition to the two Ridge Riders. They were just as tired as he and it showed to a greater degree due to them not being as trail worn or used to being on horseback for such an extended period of time.
With limited direction and even less light to be guided by, eventually Joe and his men found a livery stable not to far away from the ‘Plaza Hotel’. The hour was even later now and they were not quite sure that they could get their horses stabled at such short notice.
The two large doors to the stable were closed so Joe was forced to knock rather loudly, in the hope that somebody within would hear. After a third attempt, a young lad came to the door and opened it slightly, not wanting to allow access to anybody until he got a good look at them first.
Unfortunately for Joe and his men though, their sodden and muddy appearances were almost their downfall as the boy started closing the doors again, telling them to come back at a more decent hour.
“No wait, please,” Joe said, trying to pry the door open with his hands before it closed. “We have just arrived in this city, our horses cannot go any further tonight and neither can we.”
The boy looked Joe up and down, trying to work out how truthful his story was. He noted the mud-stained shirts and trousers and the worn, tired looks on their faces. But when he looked at Joe’s bloodshot green eyes, there was an honesty mixed amidst the fatigue that told him to believe.
Joe smiled tiredly when the boy opened up the door and allowed them to lead their horses inside. “Thanks,” he uttered.
“Will you be needing to leave them here just overnight?” the stable-boy enquired.
“Probably a little longer than that for them,” Joe answered. “I am planning to stay a few days, maybe up to a week or longer. Depends on how I feel.”
After he had said this, Joe paused and thought a moment, for maybe the first time during this trip, that he had actually not had to make a more definite decision. “Depends on how I feel” he repeated in his head.
It was kinda nice not to have his actions or days planned out in a schedule. He could wake up each day and wait until he was ready to decide what to do next.
“What are you doing?” the stable-boy asked as he watched Joe begin to take the saddle from Cochise, getting ready to rub him down before seeing to his own lodgings.
At first Joe thought it was an odd question until he looked back at the boy and realised that normally when someone pays to have his horse stabled, then this sort of task was included in the cost. He probably wasn’t too used to having someone offer to do it as well as pay for the space.
“I am particular about who touches this horse and how well he is cared for,” Joe offered, partly in apology but more in explanation. “I’ll make you a deal, I will rub him down while you get me a clean bucket of water and some fresh oats and hay,” he added in compromise.
“Nobody touches this horse unless I tell you in person,” Joe said as he prepared to leave for the hotel.
“Don’t worry I won’t let anything happen to your horse,” the boy said, knowing that Joe saw the horse as more than just a mode of transport. A member of his family.
He picked up the small leather bag that had survived Peak’s Crossing, eyeing is disdainfully at the amount of mud caked on the outside. Joe hoped that the remaining clothes inside had faired a little better and would still be wearable until he could replace them tomorrow.
By this time, Edwards and Yeager had already made their way over to the ‘Plaza Hotel’ and gotten their room keys. The Ridge Riders had followed suit so that only left Joe to take care of his own lodgings and needs for the evening.
Joe approached the hotel reception counter with a little in trepidation, a little self-conscience about how he looked in torn and muddy clothes in such a fine establishment.
There was an elderly gentleman serving patrons. When it came to Joe’s turn, he gave the young man a similar look as that of the man back at the army barracks. He did note the torn clothes and the dirt that had been tracked across the floor upon entering.
There was a distinctive trail from the hotel’s main doors all of the way to the reception desk where Joe stood now, giving him away as the offender in question.
“May I help you Sir?” the man asked, using his well-trained manners, but almost choking at the idea of having to address such riff-raff with the title of ‘Sir’.
“Hello, my name is Joe Cartwright. I sent a wire about a week ago booking a room for a week. I don’t exactly know how long I will be here yet,” Joe said in introduction.
The man deliberately pulled his gaze away from Joe and took an extended amount of time to scroll his eyes down the list of reservations, sneaking in glances to see if Joe was becoming annoyed at the wait and delay.
Joe noted all of the man’s attempts however, but brushed them aside without comment. He was too tired and too sore at the moment to be trying to start an argument. Maybe when he was cleaned up and a little rested Joe would feel like telling the fellow just what he thought. But not tonight.
“Yes, here it is Mr Cartwright,” the clerk finally responded. Inwardly he had taken a step back though at noticing the young man’s name. He had known of Ben Cartwright and his reputation as a wealthy gentleman with many contacts and connections.
“A suite room for a week with the possibility of extending the period of occupation,” the man said, using a more formal description to what Joe had already explained.
“I’ll get a member of staff to carry your bags for you,” the man said, hiding the sarcastic notion as he looked at the muddy, sodden bag that Joe was currently holding onto.
“That won’t be necessary thank you,” Joe said politely, forcing himself to ignore the man’s attempts to bait him into hostility.
“Will there be anything else you require before morning?” the man asked, already knowing some of what was needed.
“Yes please. I would ask for a tub of hot water so I can try and clean some of this trail dust off me. Lots of soap if you have it and some towels too.”
I don’t suppose the restaurant is still open for meals?” Joe asked hopefully.
“I will have the bath drawn for you straight away but as far as meals go the best I can offer is a light meal in your own room. The chef has closed the kitchen for tonight,” the clerk informed Joe.
“Thank you that would be fine. I don’t think I have the energy to walk back downstairs to the restaurant anyway,” Joe said with a tired smile.
“Here is your key Mr Cartwright. If you misplace it or lose it, there are master keys available but there would be a small fee payable to replace it.”
“Ms Winters,” the clerk now called out, scanning the surrounding reception area.
Joe saw a small petite blond woman, dressed in a formal looking uniform approach the reception desk, looking firstly at the clerk who had called her and then briefly looking back in his direction.
Her hair was blond and she had pale and sad looking blue eyes looking back at Joe.
“This is Mr Cartwright. He has acquired Suite 4 for the week. When you arrive there, please see that he has anything he requires. Then ask for one of the hotel maids to draw a hot bath for him and provide him with towels and soap,” the man instructed.
“Yes Sir, I will see to those things right away,” the girl said in a responsible attitude.
“And after that Ms Winters, ask the kitchen to prepare………what is it you would like to eat Mr Cartwright?” the clerk asked, changing the person he was talking to.
“Oh don’t go to any great trouble, I doubt I will be awake to eat a whole meal anyway” Joe said truthfully. “Just a beef sandwich would be fine.”
“A beef sandwich then,” the clerk said, looking back at Bonnie to finish off his instructions.
“Goodnight to you, Mr Cartwright, I trust that you will enjoy your stay with us.”
“Hopefully tomorrow will have a whole new outlook for us both,” Joe said with a grin, knowing that he would certainly be better favoured in the man’s opinions once he had a bath and had donned on clean clothes.
Although Joe knew he was tired. The full effect of just how fatigued he was didn’t sink in until he reached the door to his suite and entered. He let the saddle bag fall off his shoulder and rest in one corner of the room, not wanting it to soil the luxurious carpet on the floor.
Joe put his hands over his eyes and attempted to rub the tiredness and soreness from them. He only ended up making them more red and itchy.
He was startled slightly by a knock on the door. When he answered, Joe was confronted with two men bearing a large metal bath tub. Standing aside to allow them access to his room, these two were followed by four men baring two buckets of water each.
Bonnie appeared at the door, bearing fresh linen and towels. She also had a few bottles of fragrant and aromatic oils. A few drops of each was sprinkled over the steaming water, infusing with the water vapour to make for a very relaxing atmosphere.
“I will bring your meal to you in the other room while you bathe, Mr Cartwright,” the girl said politely before leaving the room.
Joe had smiled at her, noting that beyond the layers of makeup, a pair of warm eyes were looking back at him kindly. He made a mental note to try and talk to her a little more during his stay.
For the next half an hour, Joe went about settling himself in the hot water and trying to regain some image of his former self underneath the mud and grime. He had the bathroom door closed and didn’t hear the faint click of the door handle in the front room, signalling somebody coming into his room unannounced.
While he had taken the bath, Yeager and Edwards together with Bonnie had assembled in another room in the hotel to rendezvous with another man…. Marchant Seline.
“Where is he now?” Seline asked Edwards. He had carefully orchestrated his disguised stay in the hotel so that he would not be recognized nor his presence alerted before he wished to do so.
“Taking a bath,” Bonnie said simply, answering for Edwards.
“You two know what to do tomorrow morning?” Seline asked, knowing that it had taken painstakingly longer than he wanted to know what they respective roles were going to be.
Yeager and Edwards both nodded, knowing that Seline had a particular scenario planned out for Cartwright.
“Bonnie, you are about to return to his room are you not?” Seline enquired.
“Yes, to take him a meal he asked for,” Bonnie answered, not feeling entirely comfortable in this man’s presence. She had been paid handsomely to do a range of tasks but couldn’t help but feel that there was something more than sinister about the man’s interest in Joe Cartwright.
“I want you to sprinkle half a teaspoon of this powder into his drink while his back is turned,” Seline instructed, reaching in his pocket and revealing a velvet black pouch.
Bonnie sniffed the contents, trying to recognize the substance, but there was no odour that she could detect straight away. “What is it?”
“Just a mild sedative to help Mr Cartwright drop off to sleep. I plan to use it on a more regular basis once we reach New Orleans but I need to be satisfied that even a small amount has no drastic effect on his health. I want the boy dead to torment Ben Cartwright, but I want to do it slowly and in my own time.”
Bonnie reluctantly took the pouch, feeling like the room was suddenly becoming very over-crowded. “I will do as you say.” she said and went to leave before her face became too red from the guilt she was experiencing.
By the time Bonnie Winters stood at Joe’s door with a spare master key in her hand, Joe was just getting out of the bath and drying himself. He dressed in his sole remaining night shirt and a robe that had been supplied by the hotel.
When Joe walked out into the front room, feeling a little more human now without the dirt and mud, Bonnie Winters was no where to be seen. Beside the bed was a meal trolley and a covered plate sitting on top with cutlery and a pot of coffee.
Nothing looked out of place or disturbed. Joe told himself that he had better enjoy the meal while the coffee remained hot because he couldn’t be sure how much longer he was going to be able to keep awake.
Joe sat on the edge of the large bed and positioned the trolley cart in front of him so that he had a miniature table to eat from rather than use the more formal round dining table at the other end of the room.
As Joe took the first few bites from the sandwich, he looked about his new surroundings pleased with what he saw but not being able to hide the fact that there was something missing.
With himself being the only one in the room, there was nothing but silence to listen to. There was no laughter or friendly chatter that he was so used to at meal times back home. There was no race to reach each of the serving dishes before his brothers.
Somehow this was not exactly what he meant when he demanded that his family allow him to spend some time on his own. It wasn’t how he had pictured the beginning of freedom at all.
“Funny how you don’t know what you’ll miss until it’s gone” Joe thought to himself.
The beef sandwich was now consumed and the coffee cup was almost drained. A thought had started to form in Joe’s mind about the next few days when he stopped almost in mid-sentence and fell back onto the bed.
Joe was sound asleep before he even realised what was happening. His legs were still positioned over the edge of the bed. His torso was sprawled across the still mostly undisturbed bed.
The front door to his suite opened again, revealing the small petite figure of Bonnie Winters sneaking into the room. She walked over to the bed and eyed the results of her deeds.
She could see that the young man had eaten his meal and that the coffee was almost gone. There was only half a teaspoon of the powder in the strong black brew, just like Seline had instructed.
Bonnie sat down on the edge of the bed briefly, knowing that it was doubtful any movement she made would be noted by the handsome young cowboy laying before her.
The young woman started to scrutinize him up more closely than she would have dared if he were awake. He noted the relaxed expression on his face. He was indeed very handsome and good looking. His features chiselled sharply for one so young but then the curls of his hair framed and softened his face.
Bonnie had not been able to take notice of what colour eyes he had back in the reception area and now that he was lost to sleep, she still didn’t know. She wanted to peel back an eyelid and peer underneath, but thought that might disturb him, even with the drug in his system.
She was tempted to run her index figure over Joe’s pale lips to see if they felt as soft as they looked. She refrained. Bonnie got up from the bed and pushed the trolley cart out of the way and towards the door, ready to take it with her when she left the room.
She gently took Joe’s legs and eased them up onto the bed to make him more comfortable. Then lifting his head slightly, slipped a pillow under his curly head. His hair was still damp, but the curls were so soft through her fingers.
Bonnie when walked around the other side of the bed and pulled the bed spread across and draped it over the young man’s shoulders. Hard work had certainly done wonders for his physique she noted, feeling the bulge of smooth muscles.
Taking one last look at Joe, Bonnie brushed some of the fallen curls from his eyes with a gentle hand, smiling a little at the contented sigh that resulted as Joe snuggled down underneath the quilt into the soft pillow. Almost as if he was used to such a tender gesture.
Joe woke to a knock at the door the next morning. He opened his eyes blearily at first, not having remembered going to sleep at all. His head felt incredibly heavy for some reason and it was proving difficult to form a coherent thought.
“Come in,” Joe said autonomously, without really thinking about it. He now remembered that he was at the ‘Plaza Hotel’ in San Francisco. The sunlight streaming through the curtains told him that it was about 9.00am in the morning.
The door opened at his invitation and Bonnie Winters came into the room, baring a trolley laden with a plate of breakfast and another pot of strong black coffee.
“Good Morning Mr Cartwright, did you sleep well?” she asked casually. She noted that he had only just woken up and was somewhat confused about where he was.
“Yeah thanks, strange thing is though that I don’t even remember falling asleep. I woke up this morning on the bed but I can’t recall actually going to bed,” Joe replied.
“Probably from your long trip,” Bonnie offered as a plausible explanation. “You did look pretty done in downstairs at the reception desk yesterday.”
Joe nodded in agreement, not being able to think of anything else. “I don’t remember ordering any breakfast either,” he added, changing the topic of conversation and eyeing the trolley Bonnie had wheeled into his room.
“I took the liberty of ordering for you, Joe, if that’s alright. You didn’t tell me what you liked or disliked, so I tried to give you a small selection of everything,” Bonnie said, smiling sweetly at him.
“Thanks, I am quite hungry. I guess breakfast in the restaurant is well and truly over by now,” Joe commented, lifting the cover off the plate and taking a look at what had been decided on for this breakfast. He had to laugh silently to himself as he noted this complete stranger seemed to know him better then either of them thought.
The contents of the plate were both enticing and appealing, all of it and his stomach growled as if to signal to him to more than just look at it.
“Will you be needing anything else this morning?” Bonnie asked innocently, but trying to remain vigilant about what course of events the young man had planned for himself.
“I really don’t have any plans actually, except for buying some new clothes,” Joe said, looking down at his night shirt and robe and remembering that he had to replace the clothes he had lost at Peak’s Crossing.
“The first thing is to send a telegram to my family to tell them I have arrived and then make a stop at the bank. After that I really don’t know what I am going to do,” Joe admitted candidly. He had been far too tired last night to give any thought to where he might travel to or tour of today.
Bonnie smiled to herself as she made mental notes to give Edwards, Yeager and Seline about where they would come across Joe Cartwright during the morning. She knew that Seline wanted the abduction planned very carefully, without mistakes and without the interference of other witnesses.
“I will see you later then,” Bonnie said politely and left as if to go about her duties.
“See you later,” Joe responded, not reading anything other than courteousness in her questions. He started applying himself to his breakfast and thinking about what words he would write in the telegram to his family back at the Ponderosa.
About ten minutes before the ten o’clock hour, Joe locked the door to his suite after changing into his last remaining set of clothes and made his way down the stairs to the reception area.
“Good Morning,” he greeted the clerk from the night before. The man looked up and seemed quite taken back from the transformation that had occurred seemingly overnight.
The man returned the greeting and looked back down at the paperwork in front of him. He would have to remember to ask for payment from the young man when he returned to the hotel. Normally there was the requirement of a small deposit upon arrival, but the man had wavered such a need when seeing Joe’s tiredness and longing for rest.
Later that morning Joe would have to meet up with Edwards and Yeager and pay them out for their part in the trip as well as the other two riders. But first the telegram so he could put his father’s mind at ease.
Then onto the bank to meet up with the army Major to secure the funds for the horses and withdraw enough out of his own account to buy some new clothes.
Joe walked out into the bright sunshine, pausing at the entrance and taking in the sights, sounds and smells that assaulted his senses. The street was quite empty at present, but Joe had noted that the hotel was not exactly in the centre of the city when he and the men had ridden in last night.
Joe was unaware of at least five sets of eyes carefully examining his every move at the moment. There was a sixth set of eyes on a higher floor of the hotel belonging to Bonnie Winters.
Joe started walking casually down the street towards the telegraph office. Taking in the odd displays in one or two of the store windows. Being in a more removed part of the city, there wasn’t as many stores as Joe had imagined for the area.
Joe paused on the corner of a street and was about to cross to the other side when two men approached from the other direction. At first he thought nothing of it, but as he and they drew closer, he saw the gleam of two pistols pointing at him.
“What do you want?” Joe asked, his hand going to his holster, but stopping for a few seconds.
“You don’t need to be asking questions like that Cartwright, just back up into that alley a little,” the first man said, gesturing the direction with his gun.
“Keep your hands where we can see them,” the second man warned, threatening to shoot Joe if he withdrew his pistol in defence.
For the moment, Joe had very little option other than to comply with the men and turned slightly to walk down the alley. It was much darker than the street and it took a few seconds for Joe’s eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight in the street to the shadows and darkness in front of him.
“How do you know my name?” Joe asked as he turned around to face his assailants.
“Because I told them what it was,” came a voice from within the shadows. The man walked forward, not taking his eyes off Joe.
“And you are?” Joe said, his temper beginning to rise. He looked at the stranger addressing him, but couldn’t rightly recognize him as somebody he had met. It was a little unnerving to see the man’s look towards him. Joe felt as though this man had been watching him for a long time.
“My name for now is not required Mr Cartwright. It is enough for you to know that you are coming with me now,” the stranger explained, using the two men next to him to threaten Joe more.
“Hey, I don’t know who you think you are but I am not going anywhere with any of you,” Joe said angrily and went to go for his pistol.
The next thing Joe felt was a sharp pain to the back of his head that drove him to his knees, losing the tenuous grip he had on his gun. Joe reached back to the area where he was struck and brought it away with fresh blood staining his hand.
Joe looked up towards the stranger, with an almost confused look on his face as to why he had been attacked for no reason from behind. He tried to turn his head to see who had struck him and with what, but he could only make out two vague images behind him as his consciousness began to turn grey at the edges.
“I told you to get it right the first time,” the stranger said to the man behind Joe with clenched teeth. “I want this to go smoothly,” the man added menacingly.
Joe was about to call out for help from anybody that might have been passing by on the street, but the words never left his lips as he watched the stranger now raise his own pistol and hold it by the barrel, ready to use the butt of the weapon.
“PA,” was the only word he managed to whisper at the sight of the weapon raised over his unprotected head. He tried to reach up with his arm in a defensive action, but the pain seemed to explode in his head again with force.
He barely had time enough to comprehend that he had been struck a second time before he fell face first onto the cold, dirty floor of the alley.
Seline bent down after holstering his gun and put two fingers to Joe’s throat, wanting to assure himself that no permanent damage had been caused to the young man with the savage blows.
“See to it that he is loaded onto the boat without being seen. I want that doctor to be already aboard to examine him when I arrive. Make sure he has enough supplies he needs to last the journey to New Orleans,” Seline said to one of the men.
“When he is taken aboard, I want him taken to the room I have prepared. Make sure his hands and feet are tied to prevent any escape attempts. I also want him gagged to keep him quiet for the trip. Nobody else is to know that he is there until we set sail.” Seline continued.
And now Ben Cartwright….. lets just see how much you are willing to endure to get your precious boy back. Seline said to himself with a devilish grin of satisfaction. But then again, maybe I just won’t let you have him back at all.
***************************************************************
At about the time that Joe had exited the hotel before being kidnapped by Seline, Ben Cartwright was in Virginia City taking care of some business at the bank.
He had not been paying particular attention to anything at that time. At one point, he had suddenly jerked his head upwards, thinking he had heard Joseph calling out to him.
“PA” came the echo in his head. The voice sounded so full of fear and pain. Uneasiness began to settle in the pit of Ben’s stomach. Had he actually heard his son calling out to him for help?
“Joseph” Ben whispered to himself, as though calling back to the voice he had heard.
Adam and Hoss had just walked into the bank, not seeing their father’s reaction to hearing Joe’s cry of pain. They were both worried though about the strangled look they saw on Ben’s face. Something was wrong. They had heard Ben call out to their brother.
“Come on,” Ben said, forgetting all about his errand at the bank.
“What’s wrong, Pa?” Hoss asked in confusion but also worried. He saw his father was upset about something but what he didn’t know. The only thing he had heard said was Joe’s name.
Adam looked at Hoss for an explanation as well, but saw his own concern mirrored on Hoss’s face. He too had heard his father call out Joe’s name. The worry he saw etched on his father’s face was one he had seen many times when Joe was sick or injured. Why would he have it now though Adam asked himself with dread beginning to wash over him.
“Where are we going?” Hoss asked, trying to keep up with his father who was almost running.
It soon became clear enough that Ben was headed towards Sheriff Roy Coffee’s office. Ben entered the door without knocking with enough force to let the wooden door slam against it’s frame after Hoss.
Roy Coffee had just about jumped out of his skin, but knew from the look on his old friend’s face that now was not a time for jokes or jibes about treating his office with a little more courtesy.
“What’s wrong, Ben?” Roy asked, but looked at Adam and Hoss, hoping they would be able to tell him what had their father so worked up. He saw them both shrug their shoulders, indicating that they knew no more than he.
“Did you get that telegram back from that way station about that stage coach from the other day?” Ben asked, leaning over Roy’s desk. He had this fear beginning to settle inside him that somehow hearing Joe’s voice and the mention of the stage coach and the stranger looking for his son a few nights ago was all connected.
“Yes I did, Ben, got it just this morning as a matter of fact. But it doesn’t really have much to go on about that fellow if you are asking. Still doesn’t give his name or anything,” Roy said, still not entirely sure why Ben was so concerned all of a sudden.
“Read it to me please,” Ben asked, a pleading in his voice. His hands were grasping the edge of the table like a vice, as if the information he was about to hear would be too much to bear.
“Says, and I quote…..Man got off three stops down the track. Didn’t say where he was going. Bought horse privately and was last seen heading in a different direction. Destination unknown.......
“That’s all it says, Ben,” Roy said, hoping the little information in the telegram would quell any fears his friend had. He was sadly mistaken though as he saw Ben’s face grow a little paler if it were possible, a take on even more concern in his chocolate brown eyes.
“What’s going on, Ben?” Roy asked, beginning to feel the aura of uneasiness settle around him.
“You are all going to think this is crazy and that I should be locked up. But when I was in the bank just now. I thought I heard Joe call out to me,” Ben explained, looking at the faces of his two sons and the sheriff, trying to gauge if they believed his story or not.
“Heard Joe?” Hoss responded, “But that’s impossible Pa,” he added, stating the obvious.
“What did he say?” Adam asked, not really able to believe his father’s words but something about the naked fear he saw on his father’s face made him ask.
“He just called out to me, but, Adam, you didn’t hear the pain or the fear in his
voice. It sounded as if somebody was hurting him.” Ben said, trying to compose himself a little.
Adam and Hoss both looked at each other and grew a little more worried themselves. They had always shared this secret idea between them, away from others, that there was a special bond between their brother Joe and his father.
To such an extent that they knew when each other was hurt or feeling bad. They had seen a few minor instances of it in the past when Joe was at home. But to think that Ben had heard Joe call out for help when he was such a great distance away, they couldn’t put it into words.
Without saying another word, Ben started heading out the door, his two sons and the sheriff desperately trying to keep up with the running and the conversation. They now knew that Ben suspected Joe was hurt somewhere, just how he knew that they didn’t understand.
Ben had raced to the International Hotel where Seline had stayed only a few weeks ago. He came to the reception desk and addressed the clerk that the family and Roy had spoken to a few nights ago.
“Can you show me the name of the man that was looking for Joe?” Ben asked quickly.
“Sure Mr Cartwright, it’s here somewhere,” the clerk said, turning to the book and using his finger to go down the list of earlier patrons.
“There we are, stayed in one of our finer rooms to he did,” the clerk said, not really understanding why Mr Cartwright would still be interested in the man’s name. He thought they had already cleared up that the fellow had left on a stage coach in the opposite direction to Joe.
If Roy, Adam and Hoss were worried about Ben before. Nothing could prepare them for the man’s sudden loss of colour upon seeing the name written in the book.
Hoss thought his father was so pale that he would faint on the spot and moved to use a steadying hand it was necessary.
“Oh lord, what have I done,” Ben whispered out loud, meaning the statement more for himself than his sons. He knew that the man had deliberately put his real name on the book, somehow suspecting that it would be recognized at a later date.
“He planned this all along,” Ben said to himself, trying to fathom out what his next course of action would be. There was no doubt in his mind now that Joseph was in danger.
“Who planned what Ben?” Roy asked, trying to get to the bottom of what was causing his friend so much anguish.
“He’s got him, I know he has,” Ben said, grabbing a hold of Roy’s shirt as if to emphasis the fear he had for his youngest son.
“Who has got who Ben?” Roy said, tired of talking in riddles.
Ben silently handed the book to Hoss so he could see the name. Hoss read it out loud to the others but didn’t recognize it. “Says Marchant Seline.”
“I have heard that name before somewhere but I don’t remember where?” Adam said as he pursed his lips together in thought, trying to work out where he had heard the man’s name before.
“All of this time I thought Joseph was safe. The man has probably been watching Joe all along. Waiting for just the right time to strike when he knew there would be nobody to help him. He could have killed him at any time.” Ben said, knowing full well what implications such a man would have for Joe’s safety and well-being.
“Come on Adam and Hoss,” Ben said, shifting his fear and replacing it with a new steely determination.
“Where are we going now?” Hoss said, still totally confused about the whole situation. His father thought that something had happened to his brother, that was the most he could work out.
“To San Francisco to bring your brother back,” Ben said with a fierceness in his eyes that Adam and Hoss were not exactly sure they had seen before.
“I thought we were going to let him have a holiday on his own. He is going to be cranky to learn that we have followed him after we promised not to Pa,” Adam said.
“What are we going to do when we get there?” Hoss asked.
Ben now headed out the door towards his horse, knowing that it was now a race against time to get to Joe and bring him back home safely.
“To settle an old score.” was the ominous reply.
TO BE CONTINUED…………..
Okay – sorry this has taken such a long time to update – lots of things happening that have prevented my writing any quicker.
Also – this chapter is very long – sort of trying to make up for the delay but also to get to a certain point in the story – yeah I know – you all hate me for leaving it like that.
There are five new characters in this story so I will give you a brief outline of where they stand at the moment for the continuation of the story:
Two Ridge Riders – mentioned throughout this chapter without names – won’t be mentioned to a great degree for the rest of the story – rode off into the sunset.
Nichols – had a role to play in this chapter but now that he is fired – won’t be seeing him either – rode off after the others.
Douglas – fired by Joe at the way station – but we will be seeing him at a critical point in the story further down the track – not employee of Seline.
Edwards and Yeager – will be seeing them earlier in the story than Douglas, will still be retaining those names although they will be playing different roles after this.
Hired by Marchant Seline.
Bonnie Winters – hired by Marchant Seline and was seen in this chapter in a minor role – her presence will increase throughout the story – her role will change later on down the track as well.
Doctor Walters – comes into play in next chapter.
There are going to be a lot of things happening in the next chapter – hope you can be patient enough.
Ben and his boys will travel to San Francisco by stage coach – not taking their own horses.
As for Joe – well he is currently in the belly of a ship on his way to New Orleans – or soon will be.
Hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think of the story so far.
JULES