The Last Piece
Written by:  Starlite


Barely concealing his anxiety, the man waited for the clerk to check his mail.  It had been weeks since he sent off his subtle inquiry and was certain his response would arrive today.  He was rewarded when the young man returned with an envelope in hand.

"Here you are sir, a letter from Virginia City."  

"Thank you," the middle-aged gentleman replied, taking the envelope from the clerk.  Outwardly he acted nonchalant, as he turned and left the mercantile heading back to his room at the boarding house.  But his insides were knotted in anticipation over the content of the correspondence.

Walking back to the small rooming house at the edge of town, the man took purposeful yet unhurried strides up the steps.  Stopping briefly to remove his hat and pay his respects to the elderly proprietor of the establishment.  He quickly ascended the staircase and headed down the hall to his small but comfortable room.

Closing the door behind him, he rested his back against the wooden structure.  Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.  With trembling hands he unsealed the small envelope and read the contents.

Displeasure, then rage rapidly replaced his nervousness as he crumpled the letter and threw it into the fireplace.  

It was time to go home.


                ***********


Within days of Olivia Duncan's departure, Adam's fear was quickly replaced by what he always considered a more useful emotion - anger.  He was angry at whoever had shot him and put him and his family through this ordeal, angry over his father and brothers' suffocating protectiveness and angry with himself over his inability to remember.

Now he faced his father across the large desk with his hands tightly gripping the tabletop in frustration.  He was rankled by his family's constant overwhelming presence.  

Since the day it was confirmed that Adam had indeed been shot, his father had confined him to the ranch and forbade him from going into town.   Wherever Adam went one of his brothers or his father accompanied him and that was getting on Adam's last nerve.  He was surprised that his father didn't demand that someone escort him to the watercloset.  

Now his father had unilaterally decided that Adam would not participate in this year's spring roundup, which was the last straw for this proud and independent young man.

"Pa, I see no reason why I have to stay at the house!  I'm not ill and I can take care of myself."  Adam was furious as he roared across the desk at his silver-haired father.

Ben glared back with furrowed brows.  He expected his son's ire and had no intention of backing down on this issue.

"You know perfectly well why you shouldn't take part in this year's roundup."  Ben thundered back.

"I can take care of myself!"

"Oh you can, can you?"

"Yes I can!"  Adam was livid over his father's implication.

Adam had always been able to take care of himself.  As a small boy, Adam was always very self-sufficient.  He'd also helped his father to even take care of his two younger brothers.  

He raised his right hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb in frustration.  Lowering his hand once more, he paused to take a deep calming breath before continuing.

Ben was still shaken over his son's disappearance and the revelation of the past week, which had struck too close to home.  Once again, he realized that his son's life was still in danger.  Ben Cartwright would fight fiercely to protect his firstborn son, whether his son appreciated his efforts or not.

"Look Pa, I won't be out there alone.  Hoss and Joe, as well as, a dozen or so hands will be there as well."  Adam hoped that taking a different tack and applying clear reason would get through to his father.

"That's right, you won't be alone.  Because you'll be staying right here at the house with me."  Ben was adamant and had no intention of giving into Adam's wishes on this matter.

"Pa what happened, happened.  It's been over six months…" Adam continued to patiently argue before his father cut him off.

"I don't care if it happened over six years ago.  You will not be participating in this year's roundup and that's final!"  Ben boomed, as he rose from his chair to look his son square in the face.  As far as he was concerned the matter was closed.  

"When Pa?  When are you going to trust me again?"  Adam almost pleaded as he looked down to the black leather tabletop.

Ben Cartwright implicitly trusted his son and always had, it was Adam's assailant that he didn't trust.  Ben's tone softened as he spoke.

"I trust you son, I have always trusted you. It's not a matter of my faith in you."


                ***********


Hoss and Joe stood on the porch and listened to their father and brother's argument.  Normally, they jokingly placed bets as to the outcome and who would win.  But not this time, this was not a laughing matter.

Though they both silently wished that their father would relent, and allow Adam to join them.  They understood his concern and sympathized with him.  They too could remember the immense pain of those weeks of Adam's disappearance.

Hearing the loud angry banter discontinue, they knew the verbal sparring was at an end, and that Adam had lost the battle.  They quickly strode over to act as though they were finishing with the saddling of their horses by checking the cinches, when Adam came through the door and slammed it behind him.

Adam didn't even acknowledge his brothers' presence as he stormed across the porch.  The black mood heightened by his rage limited his vision and enhanced his single-mindedness, as he made his way over to the side of the house.  Grabbing the axe, he raised the implement over his head and swung a furious blow, splitting the log into.

Whistling softly, Joe looked wide-eyed across his saddle to his bigger brother.  He didn't think he'd ever seen Adam so enraged.

With a slight sad shake of his head, Hoss indicated that it would be best if they were on their way.


                ***********


The man stumbled into the front room of his home.  Dropping the bags by the front door, he surveyed the dusty sitting room.  Yes, this was his home, his alone.  

No one rushed to welcome him back from his journey.  No laughter floated among the cobweb-laden rafters.  Silence, loneliness and regret reigned here.  

He picked up the small dust-covered ornate picture frame from where it sat on the desk.  Using his sleeve he removed the filth and stared down at the image of a young man looking back at him and wept.

Falling heavily into the chair beside the fireplace he gazed lovingly at the young face.  He remembered a time when the house, this house was filled with joy and laughter.  Of a son entering adulthood with all the exuberance and recklessness of youth.

He had such plans then.  He too was younger and building an empire for his child, his firstborn son.  The beloved child he had raised alone for over 15 years.  His boy, his pride and joy, his sole heir, gone now.  The bright, vivacious fun-loving child was dead, cold and buried in the family plot.

During his life he had endured such pain, hardship and heartache including the deaths of his second child, a daughter, and young wife in childbirth.

But through it all he had his son.

With regret he wiped his eyes on his sleeve then continued to gaze down at the image now blurred by tears.  Fingering the finely etched silver picture frame, his mind wandered back to a day not long past, when he saw another young man holding an ornate picture frame in his outstretched hand.

He remembered overhearing him tell the sheriff that it was a gift for his father on his birthday.  A birthday for a man who still had a son.  A man fortunate to have three living sons, when he no longer even had one, Ben Cartwright had seen to that.

He never had any animosity toward Adam Cartwright.  In fact, he liked the quiet and intelligent man who was mature beyond his years.  He was one of the few, if only people in the area that still showed him any kindness.

To him, Adam Cartwright was so like his Billy.  He was ingenious, hard-working and a loving devoted son.  Billy was everything a father could have hoped for in a child.  To him, Billy was his world.
 
Reflecting on the worst day of his life, he remembered watching them as they put his son's still warm, but lifeless body into the pine box.  He recalled a slight tugging on his sleeve then looked down through teary eyes to a small boy with wavy black hair and heard him sadly say, "I'm so sorry Mr. Wills."  Reaching out, he patted a young Adam Cartwright's head in gratitude.

On that day some six months past, something inside of him snapped when he saw the wondrous gift from a loving son for his much-cherished father.  For on that day, it was his birthday.  But for him, there would be no grand party to celebrate, no good friends to congratulate him or wish him well, and no beautiful gifts from an adored and much loved firstborn son.

His son was dead, buried in the family plot beside his mother and sister.  Gone forever.  Gone, as were his dreams and hopes, all taken away by Ben Cartwright.

He felt cold and empty inside, as he rode out of Virginia City that day.  His intent was plain.  He wanted Ben Cartwright to know the pain he felt.  He wanted him to know the anguish of burying a child, of a birthday alone, without his firstborn son.

It had been easy to ride out of town that day and lay in wait for Adam Cartwright.  He even remembered tipping his hat in greeting as he overtook and passed the young man on the road; who was so engrossed in the book he was reading.

Finding a well-concealed spot near the crossroads he bided his time, then very easily pulled the trigger of his rifle. Young Cartwright had even accommodated him by stopping just yards from where he waited, concealed in an outcropping of rock.

He watched as the dark-haired oldest son of Ben Cartwright fell from his horse and strike the ground hard, unmoving.  He recalled staring down at the victim of his violence and was surprised at feeling not only avenged, but also immensely satisfied by the hideous act.

He had stayed watching and admiring his heinous handiwork until the rain began to pour in earnest.  Donning his raincoat, he cautiously made his way back to his home and sanctuary.

Ben's despair and grief were more than he could have hoped for.  He took quiet pleasure in observing the elder Cartwright ride into town daily on his quest for his missing child.  He found enormous satisfaction in watching as the great proud vibrant Benjamin Cartwright slowly deteriorated into deep depression and despair, rapidly aging before his very eyes.

He was somewhat bewildered and couldn't understand what had become of Adam Cartwright's corpse, but he was so very certain that the young man was dead.  He'd seen to that and he was an expert marksman.

At first he relished watching Ben's despair, then the pleasure slowly turned into nervousness.  Fearing that his guilt would soon be discovered, he departed Virginia City a couple of weeks after his heinous act.  As it was his habit to travel to a warmer climate for the winter, no one questioned his departure.  

But he was back now and he was outraged to discover that Adam Cartwright had indeed managed to survive.

Sighing deeply as he stared at the handsome figure beneath the cloudy glass.  He knew what the judgement was to be, there would be no appeals, no pardon, no more hope of saving him.  He would be there on Adam's judgement day.


                ***********


Adam glanced around the large room.  His temper barely restrained. He'd spent the last couple of days chopping wood and fixing rims on wagon wheels.  Using the strenuous tasks as an outlet for his frustration, he'd funneled his pent up anger into his work.  Now every wheel on the Ponderosa had a new rim and there was enough firewood to last for months.

Adam felt like an animal in a cage.  Though it was a nice cage, it was a cage nonetheless.  He'd even considered leaving the ranch for a while, maybe travel to San Francisco.  But he didn't wish to cause his father any further heartache, and right now, the thought of large crowds of people made him antsy and nervous.

Closing the book he was reading, Adam stood to head outside for a breath of fresh air.  He needed to get away from the stifling confining space before he became claustrophobic.

"Where are you going, son?"  Ben Cartwright inquired. Pulling his pipe from his mouth, he looked up from the book he was reading to address his eldest.

Adam glanced down to his two brothers who were yet again ensconced in the perennial game of checkers.  He took a refreshing breath to try and calm his nerves, and was only marginally successful when he answered his father.

"I'm going to avail myself of the facilities.  Would you care to have someone come and hold my hand so I don't fall in?"  Adam retorted in a bitingly sarcastic tone.  Glancing first to his younger siblings whose mouths hung open in shock, then pointedly staring in challenge at his father.

"Watch your language son!"  Ben retorted, accepting the verbal gauntlet of the slightly lewd comment his son had just made.  "You will keep a civil tongue in this house."

Though Adam knew he deserved the reprimand, he was in no mood to be called down in front of his younger brothers and felt his blood begin to boil.  He needed out of his father's self-imposed prison and he needed out of it now!

Ben watched as his son threw his book onto the floor and stormed from the house.  Shaking his head, he was at a loss as to how to resolve the current situation.

Ben Cartwright could understand and even sympathize with his son's plight.  He knew the tight restrictions he placed upon his independent and proud son were chafing the young man.  But he saw no other solution.

In the last couple of days, where Adam's fear had dissipated into indignant outrage, Ben's had intensified into abject terror.  Even though Adam was a full grown man who was quite capable of taking care of himself, to Ben he would always be a little boy.  As his father, it was his responsibility to always care for and protect that little boy from harm.  Right now his fatherly intuition told him that his son's life was still in danger, and he would do anything to protect his child.  

Ben knew that his overbearing behavior concerning Adam's safety could be viewed as irrational.  But he was certain he couldn't survive the overwhelming despair and pain again, if something should happen to his oldest son.

What had Roy said to him some six months ago, 'Let him go'.  Ben couldn't let him go then, and he would be damned before he allowed something to happen to Adam now.  As far as he was concerned, his son needed to be protected at all costs, even if that meant making him a prisoner of the Ponderosa.  

With slightly pleading eyes to his middle child, Ben sent a silent request.  Nodding in acceptance, Hoss rose from the settee and ambled toward the front door.

Little Joe looked over to his father who sat staring at the vacant space where Adam was standing moments before.  Instinctively, he knew what was going through his father's mind.  He wished desperately for a way to help both his father and his brother, but was at a total loss.  Hoping to take his father's mind off of Adam's recent outburst, Joe cleared his throat.

"Ah, Pa.  How about I get us some tea?"  Joe offered.

Nodding absently, Ben replied quietly.  "Hum, yes, yes, that sounds good son."

Hoss carefully made his way out of the house and leaned against the wall near the covered porch.  Peeking around the corner he found his older brother sitting on the table with his feet resting on the bench before him.  Adam was staring intently up at the full moon and the stars in the sky.

Clearing his throat, Hoss put his hands into his pockets and leisurely walked over to where his brother sat.  Nudging Adam gently with his shoulder, Hoss encouraged his brother to scoot over.

With a slight shy smile, Adam complied.  Adam always welcomed Hoss's warm and friendly presence.  They sat for several minutes in companionable silence until Adam quietly spoke.

"I can't go on like this."

Hoss knew what Adam was saying was true, but he knew of no way to help either him or his father through this ordeal.
He closed his eyes tightly and felt a cold shiver run up his spine over his brother's next words.

"This is killing me Hoss."


                ***********


For days he watched from the hill overlooking the ranch house.  He noticed that Adam never left the general vicinity of the main house and barn.  Ben Cartwright was keeping his son close, in some type of protective cocoon by his mere presence. Unfortunately, it would not be enough.

He watched as Ben's two other sons walked from the house and mounted their horses and rode away.  Making sure that the boys were sufficiently down the road, he followed them, wanting to see where they were headed.  Confirming that they were heading towards the branding pits and would be away for hours, he turned his horse around and made his way back down the path to the main house.  

He needed to find a way to get Ben Cartwright away from the house and away from his son.  He rode slowly in the early morning sun and let his mind ponder the question.  An hour went by before the solution came in the form of a Ponderosa ranch hand.

He spurred his horse towards the hand and yelled.

"Get Mr. Cartwright, get 'em quick.  There's been an accident at the pits and Little Joe is hurt badly!"

Stunned the ranch hand stared at him.  The hand wasn't certain what Mr. Wills had been doing at the branding pits, but he wasn't going to question the urgency.

Seeing the man's hesitation, Wills added.

"Hurry now, I'll go for the doctor!"

Wills turned his horse down the main road to Virginia City.  He stopped just out of sight from the ranch hand.  Slowly he made his way back down the path and checked to confirm that the hand had indeed headed to inform his employer.


                ***********


Inside the house, Ben and Adam worked on the books and a new timber contract.  Neither man spoke, and Ben discreetly observed his son from across the desk where they had placed the documents.  He thoughtfully regarded his unusually quiet son.

Although Adam had always been somewhat distant and introverted, he was always a force to be reckoned with and was definitely out-spoken on any issue.  Today it was though Adam didn't really care about anything and was merely existing.  

Adam was resigned to his fate, his independent spirit finally broken.  Ben was deeply saddened when he realized that he now was the source of his son's suffering.

Adam stared down at the column of figures on the page and couldn't concentrate.  He found no interest in the numbers or what they represented.  His mind was devoid of any thought.  He didn't even have the energy or inclination for anger anymore.  He no longer cared about anything.

"Adam," Ben quietly addressed his son.  

Ben received no response from his child; it was as though Adam could not hear him.

"Adam."  Ben restated, then reaching out, he placed a hand on his son's forearm.

"Yeah, Pa."  Adam replied indifferently as he looked up to his father's face without focusing.

"How about some coffee?"  Ben suggested, drawing more of Adam's attention.

"Huh, sure Pa.  I'll get it."  Adam replied as he absently stood and took a step away from the desk.

"Just a minute Adam."  Ben watched and waited as Adam stopped then turned back to face him.

"Tell ya what son.  Let's get this finished up and after lunch we'll go and check up on those two brothers of yours."  Ben suggested with a faint smile.

At first Adam couldn't believe his ears, then a grateful smile appeared across his face as his mood lightened considerably.

"Well, if you want lunch first, you're cooking.  Hop Sing is out helping at the chuckwagon, remember?  Adam chided.

Ben had forgotten that their regular cook was still recovering from a broken foot and wouldn't join the roundup until next week.

"Then what're you standing there gawking at me for.  Go and get that coffee so we can get this paperwork done boy!"  Ben bellowed in teasing fashion.  "We need to get there before Hoss shows up or we'll be doing without lunch."

A very happy Adam eagerly began to make his way for the kitchen before stopping and turning sideways to face his father.

"Thanks Pa."

The grateful smile on the handsome face, the happiness in the baritone voice and the twinkle in his son's eyes were all the thanks Ben Cartwright needed.  Ben reached across the desk and ran his fingers along the edge of the small silver picture box that he'd received from Adam on his birthday, and smiled.  It was time that he gave Adam back the reins and his freedom.


                ***********


Adam had just placed the tray containing the coffee pot and
two cups upon the desktop when the sound of footsteps was heard quickly crossing the porch.  Both men glanced to the front door as they heard the sound of pounding.

"I wonder who that could be?"  Adam asked hearing the loud and urgent knock.

"Don't know.  You stay here."  Ben instructed with a wave of his hand.  Crossing the room to the sideboard at the door, he pulled his gun from his gun belt.  Turning he open the door cautiously.

There stood one of their ranch hands.  The man appeared flushed and slightly winded.

"Mister Cartwright, ya need to come quick.  Joe's been hurt!"  The man sputtered.

"Hurt, how badly?"  Adam questioned, as he neared the front door.

Ben shot him a thunderous look.  When would that boy ever listen?  His initial anger at Adam's disobedience rapidly evaporated into shock when the man's words registered in his mind.  'Little Joe was hurt!'

"Don't rightly know, I was just told to come'n fetch ya."  The man turned to address and answer the younger Cartwright's question.  

"You better go Pa."  Adam gently suggested.  He'd watched as his father paled and seemed frozen in place.

"Yes, yes.  Adam you…"  

"Don't worry Pa.  I'll stay here.  You just go and see to Little Joe."  Adam tried to allay some of his father's worries.

Adam watched from the porch as his father hurried over to the barn and quickly saddled Buck, then rode away with the ranch hand.  Shaking his head he turned and walked back into the house, saying a silent prayer that Joe wasn't hurt badly and would be alright.

Frank Wills watched from a secluded spot not far from the ranch house, which was also near the path to the branding pits.  He watched as a frantic Ben Cartwright rode hurriedly past with the ranch hand in tow.  Good he thought; all was now going according to plan.  He urged his mount carefully down the path to the back of the barn.  Looking toward the house, he carefully pulled his horse into the barn and directed him into a stall.  Now all he needed to do was complete his final preparations.


                ***********


Adam looked up from the ledgers when he heard a knocking at the front door.  Making his way across the room he eagerly opened the door hoping it was news about his baby brother.  He was a little stunned by the man standing on the other side, as the family wasn't expecting any callers.

"Mr. Wills."  Was all that Adam could say.  His father hadn't mentioned that he was expecting anyone.

Adam knew Frank Wills quite well.  He and his father were business associates.  In fact, Wills reminded him a great deal of his father.  Just like his father, Frank had come west with the dream of a great ranch.  The Wills' had even had a spread almost as large as the Ponderosa until fate intervened.  Now Frank Wills made his living by leasing out parcels of that land to other ranchers and farmers in the area, only keeping the main house as his residence.

"Adam," the man replied holding out his hand in greeting.

Adam took the proffered hand and shook it, mentally kicking himself for his remiss in manners.

"Please come in," Adam opened the door wider and gesturing with his left hand indicated the room behind him.

"Thank you," Wills responded grinning slightly, he tipped his hat as he entered the house.  Later removing the hat and holding it in his hands, while Adam followed him into the large room.

"I'm sorry, but my Pa isn't here right now.  Is there something I can do for you?"  Adam asked his guest.

Frank Wills knew that Ben Cartwright was not at home, he needed to just bide his time, so he humored the young Cartwright.

"Oh, he's not.  Do you expect him shortly?  It's kind of urgent that I see him."

"Well, I'm not sure.  But you're welcome to wait if you'd like."  Adam replied motioning to the settee so the man could make himself comfortable while he waited.

"Would you like some coffee?"  Adam offered trying to make up for his lack of good graces moments.

"Why, yes thank you."  Frank Wills smiled a bitter smile in return.

Adam left the man standing near the settee and walked over to where the coffeepot sat on the desk.  He poured the man a cup and as he turned to take the refreshment to his father's guest, something flying toward the side of his face caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

Momentarily, he was shocked and numb, before feeling blinding pain.  Then Adam saw tiny pinpoints of white light as he heard the china cup crash and shatter on the floor.  Falling, Adam saw the floor rush up to meet him before darkness washed over him, and he was unconscious.


                ***********


Adam awoke to a blinding headache and a rebelling stomach.  Someone was standing over him speaking to him, while lightly slapping his face to rouse him into consciousness.  He found his hands tied tightly behind him and his feet bound.

"Time to wake up now.  It's almost time."

Squinting, Adam looked up to a fuzzy familiar face - Mr. Wills?

Adam stared dumbfounded at the man.  He was dazed, disoriented and thoroughly confused.  He felt the older man help him roughly to his feet.  Why?  Was the only thing going through his mind.

Frank Wills sneered as he read Adam's unspoken question, and decided to answer the baffled young man.

"Because I want your father to know the pain I've suffered all these years.  To know the hell I've lived through without my son, my firstborn.  Your father had three sons, three, and I only had one and he took him from me!  Now I intend to take his from him the same way he took my Billy from me."

Horrified, Adam tore his eyes from the face of the man before him and looked over the man's shoulder.  Not far away, a noose descended from the rafters of the barn.

Adam remembered Frank Wills' son, Billy.  He was a wild one, so like Little Joe in many ways.  His love of playing cards and drinking often got the young man into trouble with the law.  Like Joe, they were both a little reckless and fun loving.  But unlike Joe, when Billy was drunk he became careless and irresponsible with no respect for anyone's life or property.

Trying to resist, Adam felt the man usher him closer to where the rope hung.  The man easily placed him up onto the stacked wooden crates below the noose.  For an older man, Frank Wills was strong like his father.  

Adam remembered Billy Wills' fate.  Adam's father had been the sole witness to the crime and was required to attend as the sentence was carried out.  Adam had accompanied his father, it was the first time he'd seen a hanging and he didn't relish the memory.

Frank Wills raised Adam to a standing position and placed the noose around his neck, then pulled to tighten the loop.  Wills then stepped down to stand by the stack of crates.

Dizzy and watching the room sway around him, Adam felt the warm blood trickle from the gash over his right eye and travel down his cheek.  As a last resort, he tried to reason with the man.

"Please Mr. Wills, you don't want to do this."

Adam watched in horror as Frank Wills pulled out a pocket watch and causally checked the time.


                ***********


Ben raced down the road with his heart in his throat almost choking him.  His heart was pounding so loud he could hear it over the beat of the horse's hooves.

He reined in tight as he saw his two youngest approaching him.

Hoss and Little Joe rode down the road toward the ranch house.  They weren't expected home, but thought their brother might enjoy a little company away from their over-protective father.  They'd even planned on asking their father if Adam could join them out on the range that afternoon.

Both were a little surprised to find their father on the road before them.  Concerned they increased their own gait and stopped when they reached the older man.

"Hey Pa, what brings ya out here?"  Hoss asked, intently studying his father's pale complexion and worried features.

Ben ignored his middle child's inquiry and turned his attention to his youngest son.

"Are ya hurt bad son?"

"Hurt, no Pa."  Joe eyes widened in response and he jerked his head back in confused surprise.

Joe looked to his older brother for assistance and found Hoss just as confused as he was.  What was their father talking about?

Ben visually checked his boy and could find no injuries.  His son looked perfectly fine and healthy.  But why would someone tell him that Joe was hurt?  Panicked he turned to find the ranch hand scratching his head.

"You said he was injured?"  Ben demanded an explanation of the confused man.

"That's what I was told, and to come and fetch ya."  The man replied meekly fearing he would lose his job.

Hoss and Joe stared at the hand.  They still didn't understand what was going on.

Why would someone send a hand to tell him that his son was injured when he wasn't?

"Who?"  Ben thundered angrily.

"Huh?"  The terrified hand replied not understanding his boss's question.

"Who said that Joe was hurt?"  Ben demanded, causing the ranch hand to back away a little.

"Why it was Mr. Wills, Mr. Frank Wills."  The hand answered proudly, grateful that he could actually answer the man's question.

Frank Wills, why would he send me on a wild goose chase, Ben wondered?  Then a cold hand gripped his heart tightly as he realized why.

"Adam!"  Ben exclaimed, turning Buck he kicked the animal into a run.

Watching their father, Hoss and Joe spurred their own mounts in pursuit.


                ***********


Adam's attention was torn from the man standing before him as he heard the thunderous sound of hoof beats entering the yard.  He was more than relieved to see his father return with his brothers in tow.

Frank Wills pulled his colt from his holster and pointed it towards Adam.  Adam watched as Wills redirected his aim towards his family as they dismounted.

"Yell out or say one word, and I'll kill them."

Fearing for his family's safety, Adam remained silent.  He worked frantically at the rough hemp that bound his wrists.  He could feel the rope burn and tear into the flesh with his struggles.  He had to get free.

Little Joe jumped down from Cochise and went running into the house yelling for his brother.  Ben was a few steps behind Joe, with Hoss bringing up the rear all the while yelling Adam's name.

At a run, Joe quickly crossed the large room and took the stairs two at a time to check the upstairs rooms.  Hoss entered the house behind his father and went to check the kitchen.  Ben hurried over to the desk where he'd been working with his son.

As Ben reached the desk, he found the shattered cup with the drying coffee making a stain across the wooden floor.  Not far from the coffee was another stain, a small red puddle.  He was certain it was his son's blood.

Turning, he called out to his sons as his eye caught something lying amiss on the desk.

Hoss and Joe joined their father as he picked up the damaged picture frame.  The treasured gift from his eldest for his fiftieth birthday was horribly damaged.  The glass was shattered and the 'A' had been scratched out.

Hoss steadied his father as Ben suddenly swayed, he found his blood begin to boil in anger.  Looking to Joe, he found him white-faced with fear.

"We'll find him Pa."  Hoss patted the older man's shoulder, before grabbing Joe's arm and pulling him after him.

Ben carefully and tenderly placed the broken gift back upon the desk.  Taking a deep breath he followed his sons in search of Adam.

Leaving the house, Hoss motioned for Joe to check the bunkhouse and rounded the corner of the ranch house to check the back of the place.  Ben headed for the barn to see if Adam's horse was unaccounted for.

"Adam.  Adam!"  Ben yelled as he neared the barn.

Adam heard his father call out to him, then watched as Frank Wills sunk back into a corner still holding his weapon at ready.  Adam didn't know whether to warn his father or call for help.  Fearing for his father's life, he chose to remain silent instead.

Ben purposefully entered the barn and stopped short, shocked by the sight before him.  Adam was bound and standing on a couple of boxes with a noose around his neck.  Ben froze when he heard a pistol cock near his right ear.

"Come to relish your doing Ben Cartwright?"  Frank Wills sneered.

Eyes wide, Ben swallowed carefully, before glancing out of the corner of his eye.  There stood Frank Wills, a man he had known for years.

Ben felt a hand briskly grab his upper arm and drag him to a nearby stall.  He could feel the cold metal of a gun barrel against his right temple, but his eyes never left his son.  Frank Wills pushed him to a sitting position on the ground and wrapped a rope around his chest securing him to a post.

"It's fitting that you arrived just in time, Ben.  Now you can watch your son hang, just like I watched mine."  

Ben remembered that Frank Wills was there the day his son was hanged.  In fact, the man insisted that he attend even though friends advised him against it.  Frank Wills claimed he had to be there for his son.

Ben closed his eyes over the sight as he recalled that horrible night some twenty years past.  He'd been walking down the sidewalk in town when he'd heard the sound of drunken laughter then a gunshot.  Running, he quickly turned a corner and saw Billy Wills facing an old intoxicated prospector who was holding one broken whiskey bottle in an outstretched hand, another full one at arm's length in the other.  He called out to stop Billy a moment too late, as Billy fired again, only this time catching the old man square in the chest.

Billy had always insisted that Ben was partially responsible for the miner's death because he had distracted him from his shooting.  Then again both Billy and his father, Frank, had tried to appeal the sentence in vain, on the basis that the victim was nothing more than a worthless bum and Billy was a rich man's son.  The appeal failed and Billy was hanged.

Ben felt a cold chill run down his spine as his terrified eyes met those of his oldest son's.

Please don't let my father watch me hang, Adam silently prayed.  Meeting his father's terrified gaze Adam redoubled his efforts on his bindings.

Both Adam and Ben's attention was quickly drawn to the man who stood over the elder Cartwright.  He had pulled out a gold pocket watch from his vest pocket, which hung on a fine gold chain.  Confirming the time, he announced.

"It is time."

Frank Wills dispassionately approached and kicked out the stacked crates where Adam stood.

Ben watched in horror, terrified as his son fell, he cried out in anguish.

"NO!"

Adam felt the platform beneath his feet disappear and dropped sharply.  He felt the thick rough twisted cord constrict around his neck and began to choke, gasping for air.  In a last frantic tug he pulled his right wrist free.

Frank Wills stepped away to watch from a short distance and stared up at the young man struggling before him.  He saw his beloved son, just barely nineteen with curly golden brown hair.  His stunning blue eyes sparkled like rare blue topaz, flashing with laughter and just a hint of mischief.  Billy had always been such a happy child and wore a dazzling smile.  He reminded him so much of his mother.

Wills watched in horror as Billy's face turned a crimson color and became puffy as he struggled choking for breath.  He wanted to close his eyes or turn away from the sight, but he had promised his son that he would be there for him, and he couldn't turn away now.  

He prayed to God to let his boy's suffering end.  He watched as his son's once freckled face turned to a magenta color as his struggles ceased and he hung limp before him.  The topaz eyes now vacant and dull.  The mouth hanging open with no smile to be found.  

Returning to the yard, Hoss heard his father's frantic plea.  Rushing towards the barn he called out for his younger brother.

Ben Cartwright fought the bindings, desperately attempting to free himself and help his son.  He felt tears of frustration in his eyes as he watched his son dangling from the rope struggling for breath.

Freeing his hands, Adam reached up to tear at the cord as it dug deep into his throat.  Unable to free himself, he grasped the rope above his head and pulled.  He hoped to pull himself upwards and relieve the constricting pressure around his neck.  He fervently prayed he had the strength to hold on.

Hoss reached the opening of the barn and froze in horror at the sight before him.

"Adam!"  Hoss ran forward into the barn.  For a big man, he had tremendous speed.  He stopped just feet from his brother when he heard a gun cock.

Turning, he saw a horrified Frank Wills with a pistol pointed at him.  In fury, Hoss took a slow step toward the man.  Not seeing any response from his adversary, Hoss took another, then a third, reaching out he grabbed the weapon by the barrel and tore the gun from the other man's grasp.  Freeing the weapon, he threw it across the barn and struck the man full force across the face with the back of his hand.  Dazed, Frank Wills fell to the floor.

"Joe!"  Hoss bellowed, returning his attention to his older brother.

Hoss went over to where Adam struggled to hold onto the rope.  Wrapping his arms around Adam's legs he lifted to hold his brother aloft.

Hearing his brother's frantic yell, Joe ran into the barn.  Stopping at the sight before him.  He heard someone struggling nearby and quickly bent to assist his father.

"No Joe, hurry, help Adam.  The rope, untie the rope."  Ben pleaded.

Joe turned and ran to the loft stairs.  He quickly climbed the rungs and rushed over to where the rope had been tied to the support beam.  Pulling out his pocketknife, he worked frantically to cut it free.

Within seconds the rope frayed and pulled apart, causing the two men on the floor to topple.  Adam struck the ground hard, landing on the floor next to the fallen Frank Wills with Hoss lying across his feet.  Adam continued to choke and cough due to the restricting cord about his neck.

Seeing the young man at his feet, Frank Wills sat up and went to the fallen Adam.

"It's alright Billy, Papa's here.  It's all over now, time to sleep.  Peaceful sleep."  Frank Wills repeated over and over while stroking Adam's hair affectionately.  Then bending down, Frank Wills kissed Adam lovingly on the top of his head.

Adam was stunned and horrified by the display of endearment from the man who had moments before tried to hang him.

Hoss rolled to his feet and stared with his mouth hanging open at the sight of this insane man's affections toward his older brother.

After freeing his brother, Little Joe quickly descended the ladder and made his way over to his father.  Within seconds he had his father free.

"Joe, ride for the doctor and the sheriff!"  Ben ordered once he was able to move.

Without hesitation and taking only a quick glance in the direction of his brothers to insure that Adam was alive.  Little Joe quickly complied with his father's request.  Running from the barn, Joe jumped on Cochise and spurred him into a gallop towards Virginia City.

Ben quickly crawled over to where his eldest lay in the other man's lap.  He pulled his son gently away from Frank Wills into a sitting position.  Hoss came over and helped his father in holding Adam while their Pa carefully pulled and freed the noose from around Adam's neck.

Hoss winced as he saw the horribly scalded rope-burned skin.  He patted, then rubbed his older brother's back as Adam continued to gag and cough.

Gingerly, Ben massaged the tender neck, careful to avoid the painful flesh.  Through his careful ministrations, Adam's gasping and choking eased; then ceased, being replaced by raspy breathing.  Relieved, Ben grabbed his son up and clutched Adam's head close to his chest.  

Feeling his father's warm reassuring embrace, Adam closed his eyes and slipped into unconsciousness.


                ***********


Doctor Martin slowly descended the stairs, where he found Ben Cartwright eagerly awaiting his arrival on the bottom step.  

"How is he?"  Ben questioned anxiously.

Paul Martin drew a deep breath and glanced across the room to Ben's two other sons before reaching out a hand to place on the older man's shoulders.

"He should be fine, Ben." Doc Martin quietly assured his old friend.  He was certain that Adam would be fine physically, emotionally, he would have to wait and see.

Ben Cartwright released a large sigh and closing his eyes, offered a silent prayer of 'Thanks' to his God. A large grin emerged across both Hoss and Little Joe's faces, as Joe happily slapped his older brother across the midsection with the back of his hand.

Doc Martin noted that was the happiest he'd seen those two boys in weeks.  Clearing his throat he continued.

"Now he needs to take it easy for a couple of days, and definitely no talking!"  The doctor insisted.

"Yes, yes."  Ben replied in full understanding.

"He'll need time and rest Ben.  Just be there for him."  The doctor added quietly, knowing that his good friend would understand his unspoken meaning.

Ben nodded his head; he fully understood the doctor's instructions.

"I've left some sleeping powders on the nightstand with instructions should you need it.  You'll need to keep those bandages clean and dry.  I'll be back by the day after tomorrow.  Send for me, if you need me any sooner."  

The doctor completed his instructions and picked up his hat from the sideboard, while he made his way to the front door.  As he reached the door, he stopped when he heard Ben Cartwright call out a question.

"Paul, what about Frank Wills?"

Paul Martin vividly recalled the unstable man's incoherent ramblings concerning his dead son, when he briefly examined him earlier, upon his arrival at the Ponderosa.

Sheriff Coffee had already escorted the mentally distraught man back to town.  He was holding him until the doctor could arrive.

With regret, Paul Martin shook his head sadly, then turned back to face the concerned silver-haired man.

"I'm afraid that Frank is hopelessly insane.  When I get back to town, I'll be drawing up the papers to have him institutionalized at the territorial sanitarium."  

It was a task that Paul Martin did not relish.  He felt enormous sadness for the once strong vibrant man who reminded him so much of Ben Cartwright.

Ben Cartwright nodded his head solemnly in acknowledgement, as the doctor donned his hat and departed the ranch house.

"Thank you, Paul."


                ***********


Ben slowly and quietly entered his oldest son's room.  He didn't want to disturb the young man.  Ben noted the bandages on his son's wrists, neck and forehead, as well as, a very swollen and purplish black right eye.  Adam was lying on his back in bed, staring vacantly towards the ceiling of his room.  Ben crossed the room and sat down in the chair at Adam's bedside.

Adam heard someone enter his room and instinctively knew it was his father.  He couldn't face his father just now; he had so many things he needed to work out in his mind for himself.  But he was so tired and wanted desperately to sleep, he didn't want to have to think about them right now.  Adam heard his father sigh deeply.

Ben anticipated his son's need for rest and filled a glass with water, then he mixed in one of the sleeping powders.  Bending over his son, he gently lifted Adam's head.

"Here son, drink this."  Ben offered with a slight catch in his voice.

Slowly and with excruciating pain, Adam swallowed the proffered liquid.  When he finished drinking his father laid his head back down onto the soft pillow.  Adam forced his eyes to close, and in doing so, a single tear escaped and traveled across his cheek down towards his ear.

He felt his father reach out and tenderly wipe the tear away with his fingertips, before his Pa's hand moved down to gently squeeze his shoulder.  Then he felt his father's loving and comforting hand softly caressing his arm to soothe him into sleep.

Ruefully, Adam recalled as he began to drift off into slumber, the old adage that 'wanting was sometimes more desirable than having', and sighed.  All these months he desperately wished he knew what had happened to him.  Now all he wanted to do was forget.

The End


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