The Ordeal
by
Janice Sagraves
I researched the symptoms though I’m not sure how accurate any of this is, but I think it still makes for a pretty good story.
THE ATTACK
The wind howled in the trees and blew through the night, adding a chill to everything it touched. A round, nearly full moon cast a ghostly light as it hung high in the sky. And the two men huddled around the campfire were unaware of the maddened eyes watching them from the crest of the hill.
“Another cup of coffee, brother?” Hoss Cartwright asked as he took the pot from where it sat near the fire.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Adam Cartwright held the tin cup out and Hoss filled it. He bunched over, letting the steam rise into his face and wrapping his hands around it.
“Danged if’n this ain’t the coldest May I ever remember,” Hoss said with a shudder as he sat down on the log next to Adam with his own coffee. “I found ice around the edge of the creek when I went to fill the pot. An’ you could o’ heard a fly drop it was so still.”
“I know, it’s been quiet as a tomb all day,” Adam said and took a drink and let the hot brew warm him.
“Funny you’d put it that way. This mornin’ before we left ol’ Pete Locklin told me he saw blood on the moon last night.” Hoss took a slug from his own cup. “That means somebody’s gonna die.”
Adam shot his brother a disparaging look. “Aw, come on, Hoss – don’t tell me you believe that sorta thing.”
“Well, I dunno Adam, maybe I don’t but I’ve heard some things that’d make you wonder.”
Adam grimaced and shook his head and took another drink. “It’s just superstition, nothing more. You remember last year when the bird got in the house and ol’ Pete said the same thing?”
“Well, yeah,” Hoss drawled abashedly.
“And none of us did, did we?”
“Course not.”
“Then I rest my case,” Adam said with a sideways smirk. “Now why don’t you go check on the horses, they seem to be a bit restless tonight, and then we can turn in. I’m all dragged out.”
“I know what you mean. I could sleep for a month o’ Sunday’s and still be tired.” Hoss took one last jolt then emptied the cup on the ground. “I’ll sure be glad to git back to the house. It ain’t fittin’ out here for man or animal.”
Adam agreed as Hoss got up and headed toward the trees where the horses were picketed.
Hoss greeted a nervous Sport and Chubb with a cheery voice that could almost warm the night. Durn, but it was cold. He shivered, but it was caused by more than the nip in the air, and he couldn’t explain why. Then, with a startling suddenness, the animals’ agitation turned to downright panic as they raised their heads and began tugging at their lines, snorting and whinnying with wide eyes and flared nostrils.
“Whoa, whoa,” Hoss said firmly with a gentle hand on Chubb’s muzzle and another on Sport’s. “They ain’t nothin’ out here that’s gonna bother you.”
But in the back of his head Hoss knew better. He’d felt uneasy all day, and so had Adam – he’d seen it and heard it in his brother’s voice. And now the reaction of the horses only solidified it. Something was definitely about.
Adam crouched, untying the laces on his saddle roll. It’d been a long hard day, and he just wanted to go to bed. Maybe some of his anxiety would settle down as he did the same. Then his head shot up as a bloodcurdling, otherworldly scream pierced the night. But it was too late to act as a large, furry shape sprang from the darkness and was instantly all over him, slamming him to the ground. He didn’t have time to think about what it was, just that it was trying to kill him. Intense agony ran through his right forearm as he felt dagger-like teeth rip the flesh. He wanted to call out to Hoss, but his voice had deserted when the breath had been knocked out of him.
A loud crack seemed to envelope him and his attacker as the beast shifted, but continued its onslaught. Then four more shots, and he felt the weight fall away from him. His breathing came in quick, jerky gasps as he sat up, trying to reorient himself. Then, seemingly from out of thin air, Hoss was at his side.
“You all right, Adam?”
Breathing hard, Adam wasn’t able to answer right away. “I’ll let you know in a minute.” He tore back the shredded sleeves of his shirt and coat. His arm had been ripped deep, and he was bleeding like a stuck bull. The shock of the attack was beginning to wear off, and pain was seeping in.
Hoss winced at the sight of his brother’s blood – Adam was hurt and pretty badly. He took a bandana from his back britches pocket and began wiping the wound so he could see the extent of the damage. As he did he glanced back at the large animal lying dead behind him. “I ain’t never seen a wolf come into a camp with a fire a goin’.”
Adam eyed him warily through his thick lashes. “Neither have I, but we’ve heard of it.… And we both know why.”
Hoss’ head shot around – his blue eyes suddenly hard and cold as frozen lake water. He knew what his brother meant and it frightened him beyond anything he’d ever felt. “Yeah,” he said dully. “We need to git this cauterized and git that bleedin’ stopped.” He started looking around him. “But we ain’t got time to heat up one o’ them brandin’ irons an’ they ain’t nothin’ here hotternuff to do it with.”
“Yes, there is.”
Again Hoss’ gaze came around to his brother’s face. He understood what Adam had in mind, and he knew it was the only way at the moment. With a nod he went to his gear and retrieved a small pouch from his saddlebags and came right back.
Hoss opened it and poured gunpowder directly into the wound. He looked deep into the dark hazel eyes and a silent message passed between them. Then, hitching up his courage to do what had to be done – he struck a match on his boot and laid it to the powder. It quickly flared and Adam’s teeth gritted as he fell over against Hoss as the smells of sulfur, saltpeter and searing flesh filled the air.
Adam clamped down on his lower lip to keep from crying out and felt his brother’s strong arms tighten around him. He was on the edge of passing out, but this wasn’t the time for such nonsense so he hung on to lucidity.
When the powder had burned away Adam continued to lean against Hoss, panting hard. His heart raced like he’d run a mile and a headache had begun to make itself at home inside his skull. His fingers knotted around the lapels of Hoss’ coat as he tried to regain his grasp on reality.
Hoss ran his fingers over Adam’s sweaty hair and a pang ran through his chest. Why had this happened to his brother? Why couldn’t it have happened to him instead? Either way, it was going to kill Pa when they got home.
WEEK ONE
Ben and Joe Cartwright were still at the breakfast table when the front door burst open, and Adam’s angry voice entered the house.
“I told you, Hoss, there’s no sense to it!”
“But he can take a look at it.”
“And do what? He’s a doctor, not a miracle worker!”
Ben and Joe were instantly on their feet to find out what was going on.
“What in the…” but the words died in Ben’s throat as he saw his oldest son’s arm. “Adam! What happened?”
“Pa, would you talk some sense to ‘im. Doc Martin needs to take a look at that,” Hoss pleaded.
“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s useless?”
“Hoss is right, Adam. You need to have that…”
“Would you stop it, Joe?” Adam stormed out. “Just stop it!”
“You don’t have to snap at your brother!” Ben did some shouting of his own. “Now would somebody please tell me what’s going on?”
Adam stepped to his father, his face registering no emotion – it all came through in his voice. “I was bitten by a rabid wolf, Pa, and there’s nothing anybody can do.”
Ben blanched, and Joe turned just as white. Adam continued to glare at his father then went on toward the stairs. Ben looked to his middle son and connected with the sympathetic blue eyes, questioning with his own what he’d just been told. Hoss nodded, and the bottom finished falling out of Ben Cartwright’s world.
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Paul Martin came down the stairs with his medical bag. Of all the things he had to tell a family, this was by far one of the worst. He could see the expectation and the longing for a miracle that wouldn’t be forthcoming in the faces waiting for him. He wished he could tell them that Adam was going to be all right, but he wouldn’t lie to them. And if he said Adam was fine, then it would definitely be a lie.
“Well, Paul?” Ben asked as the doctor came down and joined him and his sons at the hearth. “How is he?”
Paul’s long face and deepening blue-grey eyes told Ben and his sons everything they needed to know. “The arm will heal; there shouldn’t be any problem there. That was a smart thing you did by cauterizing the wound with gunpowder, Hoss.”
“It was Adam’s idea,” Hoss said dolefully.
“But did it help anything, Paul?” Ben asked.
Paul knew what Ben meant and at that moment he would’ve rather been shot than utter the next word. “No.”
Ben’s legs disappeared, and he felt emptiness beneath him. Someone, he didn’t know who, steered him to a chair and eased him down into it. He stared blankly ahead into dead space. “And there’s no hope?” he asked numbly without looking at his old friend, already knowing the answer. He knew about this, and he knew pretty much what to expect, but still he had to ask.
“There’s no known cure.”
“And there’s nothing you can do?” Joe asked softly.
“I’m afraid I’m as helpless as you are. The medical profession doesn’t know enough about the disease to do anything to fight it. We’re not even sure what causes it. We only know that if a person is bitten or scratched by a carrier…”
“Is there no chance at all?” Ben looked around with desperate longing.
“Well…”
“Well what, Paul?” Ben was instantly on his feet, a glimmer of hope shining in his face.
“I have heard of a few cases where the patient did survive. But Ben, it’s only two.”
“But there could be more that you don’t know about,” Ben said as he gripped Paul’s arm.
“There could be, but Ben the chances are…”
“Slim an’ none,” Hoss interrupted.
Ben shot Hoss a withering look.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Joe asked.
Paul’s eyes darted to Ben. “Send him away.”
Ben’s mouth fell agape. “Send him away? That’s my son you’re telling me to toss out!”
“Ben.”
“No, Paul – absolutely not! Right now he needs his family more than he ever has, and I’m not going to discard him like an old boot!”
“Ben, what Adam’s going to go through you don’t want to see. And when, no, for you Ben I’ll say if, this happens, you could only be putting yourself and anyone else who’s around him in danger. When a person comes down with hydrophobia they don’t even know their own mother, and they’ll attack anyone and anything.”
“I won’t send him away, Paul; I can’t do that to him. And if I get this because of it, then I’ll die with my son.”
“We will,” Joe said with determination.
“That’s right,” Hoss added, just as determined.
A sad smile turned the corners of Paul’s mouth, and he patted Ben on the arm. “All right, Ben, I can’t tell you not to. If it were my son I’d do the same thing. But I can tell you what to expect before I go. I left something with Adam for the pain, not that I think it’s going to help that much. He’s going to suffer from the most hellacious headaches and bouts of temper. There’ll be insomnia...”
Paul’s voice grew distant as Ben listened to him telling them what to expect. He refused to believe that his son was going to die from this. Adam had only just turned thirty-one, and Ben couldn’t let himself think that his eldest wouldn’t see another birthday. His heart squeezed in his chest, and he held back the tears that burned behind his coffee brown eyes.
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Sixty days, give or take, Paul had told them. If Adam made it past sixty days the chances were good that he would live and Ben would keep his son. Ben took a deep, ragged breath as he trudged up the stairs. This was going to be the longest two months of any of their lives.
His lifeless steps took him down the hall to his son’s room. With a moment’s hesitation he raised his fist and knocked, but no answer came. He didn’t blame Adam; what could he possibly say to his son at this time that could be of any comfort? He knocked again and this time got a clipped “Come in.”
Adam sat in the chair at the window staring out at what had turned into a beautiful, albeit cold, spring day. He held his injured arm, now cleaned and bandaged, close to him with his other hand. He’d also put on a fresh, un-tattered red wool shirt, the right cuff left unbuttoned and the sleeve pushed up slightly.
Ben spoke his name softly, but Adam didn’t move, almost as if he were cast of bronze. How he wished he could take his son in his arms and kiss away the hurt as he had when he’d been a child. He felt so useless. His boy was going to endure over eight weeks of pure purgatory, and all he could do was watch and try to see him through it. And if it ended in death, as they’d been told it more than likely would, he would be there for him then as well.
Ben sat down on the edge of the bed and watched the thoughts
float over the dark, handsome face. Then
an ache filled his heart. The way Adam
was sitting, and the tilt of his head, reminded Ben so much of
He continued to sit and wait quietly for his son to speak; Ben wouldn’t rush it. He would sit there for the rest of the day and all night if he had to just to hear one word.
Then the silence was finally cracked and the one word
came. “
“Yes, son.”
“I want to leave.”
Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Why? I would think that you’d want to be with your family now.”
Adam continued to stare out the window. “I know what’s going to happen to me; Paul and I had a long talk about it and I’ve read. And I won’t put my family in that kind of danger.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I…” An ironic laugh left him. “What am I saying? And who am I trying to kid? I’m not going to live no matter what I do.” He finally looked around, the characteristic black wisp having fallen over his forehead. “But I won’t put those I care about in that kind of peril, Pa, I just won’t.”
“There are no guarantees that you won’t end up like that, but Paul said that there have been cases where people have survived this. And we’re going to believe that you will.”
Adam gave another ironic laugh. “Now who are you trying to kid? We both
remember what happened to Jamie Pierce last year after he was bitten by that
rabid dog. And what his parents went
through watching him waste away little by little until…” He took a deep sigh and massaged the back of
his neck. “No,
“Well, I’m afraid you don’t have any say in it,” Ben said firmly. He got up and stepped to Adam and crouched at the side of the chair. “You’re my son, and no matter what comes that will never change.” He placed his hand over Adam’s and it was cool to the touch. “You’re staying here with those who love you. So we won’t hear anymore about your leaving.”
Their gaze connected for a long minute, and then Adam closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair. He nodded and drew in the fine mouth as a single tear tracked down his right cheek.
Ben had won his first battle, but how many more did he have ahead of him? It disturbed him to think about them and what kind they would be. This wasn’t going to be easy, but he wouldn’t give up on his first-born child. Being a father and Ben Cartwright he couldn’t do any less.
His hand tightened over his son’s and the long fingers twined with his own. The sensation was like a tonic for his anxious soul. He leaned his head forward against the chair arm and let the closeness of the moment wash over him. And he prayed for his son’s life.
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Adam sat on the end of the porch, his arms resting on his knees. His mind was apparently a million miles away, and he didn’t seem to notice when his father sat down next to him.
“Adam.” But Ben’s son didn’t move or react to his presence. “Son.” But still there was no sign that he even knew his father was there. Ben decided to remain silent and let Adam think. He followed his son’s line of sight to see what he was watching so closely. Water was dripping from the pump in front of the barn and plopping into the full trough. Ben smiled as he remembered him lost so deeply in concentration as a teenager. He’d never seen anyone who could block out the world the way Adam could.
“
Ben was startled; he’d gotten the impression that Adam wasn’t aware of him. “Yes, son.”
Adam looked around at his father. “It’s been four days and…” but his voice drifted away, and he turned his attention back to the pump. “Never mind.”
Ben Cartwright’s son was living under a death sentence, with the chances for commutation being so slim as to be hardly negligible. Yet his life went on – at least for now.
WEEK TWO
The room was what would be the parlor in any other house, but in this one it functioned as the examining room.
“So how do you feel today?” Paul asked. “You look good, and your arm is doing well.”
“Sometimes I have to tell myself that I’m sick because so far I don’t feel anything,” Adam said as he rolled his sleeve down and buttoned the cuff. “There’s just the nagging in the back of my mind that I am.”
“No nerves, no agitation or depression, no pain or stiffness? What about insomnia?”
Adam shook his head. “If it weren’t for this gash on my arm you’d never know I was attacked. Paul, is it possible that I’m not going to go through this?”
“Anything’s possible, but I wouldn’t hold out for it. More than likely, even if you do survive, you’re going to have some of it. From what I’ve heard, even the survivors don’t get off Scot free.”
“I pretty much knew that, still, I had to ask.” Adam pinched the bridge of his nose and took
a deep breath. “Paul, is there a place I
could go until this is over? No matter
the outcome, I don’t want my family to have to see this. It’ll kill
“And have your father come after me with a double-barrel shotgun? No thank you,” Paul said with a broad grin. “I’ve already suggested it, and I thought he was going to take my scalp. And, besides that, it wouldn’t be right of me to go behind his back. This is between you and him and your brothers.”
“I was afraid you’d say something like that.” Adam heaved a sigh and got up from the chair by the doctor’s desk. He reached out and shook hands with Paul, hiding the pain as best he could.
“Still some painful, I see.”
“I should’ve known I couldn’t keep it hidden from you,” Adam said with a half smirk. “But, yeah, it still hurts some. Mainly when I use it. I’m not worrying about it though, not with this other thing hanging over me like the sword of Damocles.” He took his coat from the back of the chair and shrugged into it then took his hat from the corner of the desk. “Well, I guess I’d better be heading back on home.” He started for the door then stopped dead and turned back. “Thanks, Paul. For everything.” Then he went out.
This wasn’t the first time Paul Martin had come up against a case of rabies as a doctor, but this time it was a special friend, and the son of a friend. And he wished he wasn’t so helpless. He rested his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Adam,” he whispered to himself.
Adam was enjoying the ride home. It was still plenty brisk and nippy, but the sun cast a golden glow over everything and warmed a man’s face, but little else. Hoss had said it was the coldest May he could remember, and Adam had to go along with him.
Today Sport must’ve sensed his rider’s tension for his head tossed more, and he was more difficult to handle than usual. But Adam didn’t care as it kept his mind from things that he’d just as soon not dwell on. A sudden urge to open the horse up and give him his head came to him. He dug his heels into the dark red sides and gave a whoop, and the big chestnut took off, his long mane and tail trailing in the breeze.
Adam couldn’t recall when he’d felt more alive. The spirited animal between his legs and the bright, invigorating day and glorious country stirred his blood and made his heart race. For now he wouldn’t think about what lay ahead of him. For now he would live for the moment and nothing else.
He hadn’t been in any real big hurry to get back to the
house and his family’s scrutiny, so the ride back from
After getting Sport stabled, rubbed down and settled for the night he started to the house. The euphoria of the ride and the invigorating chill in the air still had him pumped up when he went inside. As he came in the first thing he noticed was the black scowl on his father’s face as he turned to his son.
“Where in thunderation have you been?” Ben bellowed as he came out of the red leather chair.
“I went into town to see Paul,” Adam said casually and closed the door behind him. As he edged farther into the room he saw that they were alone. “Where’re Hoss and Joe?”
“Out looking for you! Do you realize how long you’ve been gone?”
Adam gave a slight shrug. “Five or six hours?”
“Try ten! You’ve been gone all day!”
“Well, Pa, it’s not like I haven’t been off on my own before,” Adam said with a half grin.
“Do you think this is funny?”
”No, but you’re acting like I’m a child.
I haven’t been in a few years, and I have learned how to take care of
myself along the way. Thanks to a very
good teacher.”
Ben marched over to Adam just as his other two sons came in.
“Now you listen to me, young man, we’ve been worried to death about you! We didn’t know what could’ve happened! If you were going to ride off that way the least you could’ve done was tell somebody!”
Adam’s thick brows furrowed in and the muscles in his jaws knotted. “I’m thirty-one-years old, and I didn’t think I still had to tell you every time I wanted to go into town.” The dark hazel eyes narrowed then he stepped around his father and started for the stairs.
Ben whirled as Adam headed upstairs. “I’m not finished!”
Adam stopped on the landing and leaned forward against the banister. “I am. And by-the-way, Pa, Paul says nothing’s changed. I’m still probably gonna die.” Then he turned and went on up and disappeared down the hall, and his bedroom door closed hard. Adam never slammed.
Hoss and Joe joined their father, and the three stood in stunned silence, looking toward the second floor.
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Adam sat in the chair in his room looking out the window with his guitar in his lap. He didn’t know why he’d even picked it up. These days he didn’t feel much like playing it.
A sturdy knock came at his door, but he chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. After the blowup he’d had with Pa two days ago he’d grown sullen and kept pretty much to himself. The knock came again, and still he chose not to acknowledge it.
“Adam.” The deep voice paused for a moment. “Adam, son, can I come in. We have to talk.”
Adam didn’t want to be bothered, but he had to face grim
reality. This was his father, the man
who’d raised him and loved him and was always there when he needed him. He couldn’t turn his back on him for he
needed him now more than he ever had.
“Come in,
The door opened quietly and Ben slipped in and closed it just as silently. He’d seen his son in his angry snits before, and he recognized one now. Adam sat like a stone, staring out the window with the fingers of his right hand resting on the guitar’s strings. As he stepped closer he might as well have not even been in the room for all the notice he got. He regretted pouncing on his son like he had, but he’d been so worried when they couldn’t find him, that he’d lost control when Adam finally did round in. He stopped at the side of the chair, and the snubbing continued.
“I’m sorry, son,” Ben said as he rested his hand on his son’s shoulder and felt the muscles tense beneath the black fabric. “I shouldn’t have jumped on you that way. And I do care what the doctor had to say.”
Adam just continued to watch out the window. “I know.” He took a deep breath. “But with this thing staring me in the face I don’t need to be treated like a little boy.” He finally looked up at his father. “Do you understand that, Pa?”
“Yes, son, I understand. And I hope you understand that no matter how old you are I will always be your father, and you will always be my son.” He paused, and his fingers tightened against his boy. “My child.”
A soft smile turned Adam’s lips, and a warm light burned in his dark eyes. No more was said, and Ben knew that this episode had been put behind them. They had more important things to be concerned with than an altercation of words. His hand lingered where he’d placed it, and then he gave one last squeeze and left the room.
As he started back down to the parlor Ben felt the weight of what had been and what was coming pressing on him. But he had to put up a good front for the sake of his sons for they would rely on his strength to get them through this. And, truth be told, so would he.
WEEK THREE
Adam sat in his favorite blue chair and watched the flames while his family gathered at the dining table for breakfast. There weren’t many sounds of food being eaten, and he knew they were watching him. Sometimes he felt like a moth pinned to a block of wood; a specimen to be studied and scrutinized. He knew they meant well, but it made his skin crawl and at times he wished he could just get away.
So far he hadn’t had any of the devastating headaches Paul had warned him about – only a throbbing behind his eyes and in his temples, and sometimes his neck stiffened. But he knew he couldn’t escape the inevitable forever. No one had used the phrase, at least not where he could hear it, but he knew that everything in his life right now was on ‘borrowed time’.
As he watched the shades of bright orange and yellow flickering in the hearth he slowly became aware of a presence. He looked up into the poignant emerald eyes of his youngest brother.
“I brought you some breakfast,” Joe almost whispered.
“Thanks, Joe, but I’m really not very hungry.”
“You need to try to eat to keep your strength up so you can fight this.”
“No, Joe.” Adam turned back to the fire to escape from those haunting eyes.
“You know, you should…”
“I said I don’t want it!” Adam erupted as he bolted from the chair, slapping the plate from Joe’s hand. It broke against the floor, sending food in all directions.
Adam couldn’t believe what he’d just done. For a fleeting few seconds he’d wanted to hit Joe, even to hurt him and it frightened him. “Joe, I…” He rubbed at the muscles in the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Joe, I… didn’t…”
But before Joe could say or do anything Adam turned and went upstairs. As Joe watched his brother go Ben and Hoss came to stand on either side of him.
“He didn’t mean that, Joe,” Hoss said. “He ain’t been Adam since… well, lately.”
Ben put his arm around Joe’s shoulders and saw the anguish in his youngest son’s features. “Adam would never knowingly hurt any one of us, but right now, like Hoss said, he isn’t Adam.” The coffee eyes went briefly to where his son had disappeared at the head of the stairs. “And it’s only going to get worse,” he thought. Ben put on his best mask and gave Joe a slap on the back. “Now, if you two are done eating, why don’t you go on out and get started on your chores? And don’t worry about the mess; I’ll take care of it.”
“All right, Pa,” Joe said tonelessly, then turned and started toward the bureau.
Hoss exchanged a troubled look with his father and then followed his little brother. Ben directed his own gaze back toward the second floor. Was Adam going to get too dangerous to live with, as Paul had said he would? Ben refused to believe it. Adam was one of the kindest, most considerate and gentle people he’d ever known, and he couldn’t make himself believe that. But he also knew that what his son had changed people into someone even their own families didn’t know. He closed his eyes and shuddered at the thought then, with a deep, cleansing breath, he turned around to clean up the mess as he’d promised.
Ben was just finishing wiping away the last of the food from the floor when Adam started downstairs. “Where’s Joe?” he asked listlessly.
“He’s working outside with Hoss,” Ben said with a quick glance at him.
“I want to apologize for jumping at him like that. He didn’t do anything to deserve it.”
“He knows you didn’t mean it. And I think…” But an odd grunt followed by a thud made Ben look around. “Adam!” He forgot all about what he was doing and bounded for the stairs.
Adam was on his knees with his head leaned forward against the banister. He had a death grip on one of the balusters with both hands, and his knuckles were white. Ben managed to pry his fingers lose and turned Adam to him. He could see the excruciating pain etched in his son’s face. “What’s wrong? Is it one of those headaches? Adam!”
Adam felt like his skull was going to explode. The pain was blinding and all that was around him blurred into a haze. The light stabbed at his eyes – sending bolts of agony though his head. He heard a voice that slowly registered as his father’s.
“Adam, what’s wrong? What can I do?”
A tiny particle of the misery cleared from Adam’s brain, and he looked up into his father’s face. “Medicine, Pa… go get…”
Ben didn’t want to leave him, but he had to get what Paul had left. “I’ll be right back, son.” With legs trembling, Ben rushed to Adam’s room. The last place he remembered seeing the small amber bottle was on the table by the bed. It was still there. He hurriedly grabbed it and the spoon next to it and ran out into the hall.
When he got back, his son had slumped over against the railing and was breathing hard. As Ben knelt on the step Adam’s hand shot out and gripped his wrist, causing him to drop the bottle. It hit the landing and shattered – its contents spreading like butter in a hot skillet. Ben looked at it helplessly, then turned and clutched his son to his chest. He could feel Adam’s intense shaking and it ran through him like a million tiny, stinging pins. This time he couldn’t hold back the tears – he didn’t even try – as Adam quivered in his arms. He leaned the side of his face against the black hair and wept openly and – for the first time – let himself think that his son was going to die.
Hoss and Joe could stay away only for a little while; they had to go back in to check on their brother. But as soon as they stepped inside they froze in place. Their father sat on a step, leaned sideways against the banister, cradling Adam like a baby. It was obvious that Ben had been crying.
They rushed around to where their family was. Joe crouched on the landing and lightly placed a hand on his father’s knee. “Pa,” he said softly.
Ben looked at them, and then frowned and shook his head once.
His brother was dead – Joe knew that Adam had died in their father’s arms. Sometimes this country could be so unfair and right now he cursed it for it. He tentatively took Adam’s hand and it was warm. Then, to Joe’s amazement – the pain-stricken eyes fluttered open and turned to him. “Adam.” Joe continued to cling to Adam’s hand, unable to look away from his brother’s face.
Hoss leaned over Joe, and his blue eyes made contact with the dark hazel ones, and what he saw there cut into him. He remembered vividly what’d happened to the young Pierce boy the previous summer, and the thought of the same thing taking Adam hurt like nothing ever had. “We ain’t gonna leave you, Adam, so don’t you leave us.”
Only a faint shadow of a smile turned Adam’s lips before his eyelids lowered. Joe looked desperately at his father, but what met him was tired relief.
“He’s only resting,” Ben said as his arms tightened around his son, then he looked up. “Hoss, you’d better send somebody for Paul.” He allowed himself a quick glance at where the bottle had smashed. “We’re going to need more medicine.”
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Adam stepped out onto the front porch and looked into the sky, still streaked with coral and aqua from the rising sun. The sounds of spring filled his ears and its sweet scent his nose as he inhaled.
He’d had another restless night and it showed in his face. Breakfast had been half a hard biscuit, one strip of brittle bacon and a few sips of strong coffee, and he hadn’t wanted that. But with three sets of eyes drilled in on him he’d made an effort at it. And considering that Hoss was manning the kitchen these days it was easy to explain his lack of an appetite, not that he thought they believed him for a second.
Shaking his head, he turned and went back inside. He wasn’t in the mood to watch life go on around him and know that it wouldn’t for him much longer. Adam Cartwright was feeling sorry for himself, a sensation he wasn’t used to, and he didn’t want anybody else to see it. It was bad enough he had to deal with it, but he didn’t want anybody else to know.
“Hey, Adam, where’re you goin’?” Joe asked cheerily as his brother stomped toward the staircase.
“To my room,” Adam grumbled without looking at him, “if that’s all right with you.”
Hoss and Joe watched as Adam went upstairs and disappeared down the hall, and they heard his door close.
“What was that all about?” Hoss asked from the dining table.
“I don’t know,” Joe said and scratched his head.
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At first Joe thought it was part of a dream until he realized he wasn’t asleep. He turned over onto his back and listened. It sounded like it was coming from downstairs, but he couldn’t exactly make out what it was. Throwing the covers back, he swung his legs over the side and got up. Since this had begun with Adam he’d started sleeping with his door ajar. He got up and went to it, eased it open and slipped out into the hall, almost bumping into Hoss. He was right, it was coming from downstairs. It sounded like someone was riffling the pages in books, then thumping them closed. “What was that?” he whispered.
“Adam.”
“What, again? Doesn’t he ever sleep anymore?”
“Not much he don’t.”
“Does Pa know about this?”
Hoss gave a quick nod toward the stairs and Joe looked around. Ben stood on the top tread watching down into the parlor.
“Six nights now he’s been prowlin’ around like this,” Hoss said. “And it got worse after that bad headache.”
“I know, and I wonder what it’s gonna be like when he has another one?” Joe said glumly. “There ought to be something we can do about it.”
“Short of whompin’ ‘im over the head with an axe handle, I don’t think so.”
Joe ran his fingers into his hair and riffled the soft dark brown curls. “Hoss, I don’t think I can take another five weeks of watching this.”
“Give or take, the doc said.”
“I know what he said,” Joe snapped. “I was there, remember?”
“Joe, gittin’ mad at each other ain’t gonna help us,” Hoss said as he put a hand on Joe’s shoulder and squeezed, “and it sure ain’t gonna help Adam.”
“I know it’s just that…”
“Get the medicine!” Ben barked as he broke into a run down the stairs.
In their conversation they hadn’t noticed that things had gotten quiet.
Joe’s face fell. “Not again.” Then he ran to Adam’s room while Hoss followed after their father.
Joe grabbed the bottle from the bed table and glared at it. “Please help,” he said to it then burst back out.
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“That’s two of those damnable headaches in three days, which we know about.” Ben said as he saw Paul out to his buggy. “He eats very little and hardly sleeps. I wish Hop Sing was here. He was always able to get the boys to eat.”
“When’s he coming back from
“I don’t know. We got a wire from him last week, and he said his sister’s still too sick to leave.”
Paul seemed surprised. “Knowing Hop Sing I would’ve thought he’d’ve found a way to be here with you and the boys through this.”
“He doesn’t know.” Ben couldn’t miss the look of consternation on his old friend’s face. “Before you jump all over me, he’s got enough to worry about with his sister. And we can take care of Adam just fine until she’s better and he can leave.”
“Maybe your right, Ben, but I’m not so sure he’s going to see it that way. You know how close he is to those sons of yours. But, it’s your call.”
“That’s right, it is.” Ben ran his fingers back through his silver hair and took a deep breath. “Oh, Paul, it’s so hard seeing him this way and knowing that this is only getting started.” Ben took a ragged breath and rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “And knowing how it all could end.”
“Ben,” Paul rested his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “you know that I’m doing all I can for him. It’s just that right now there’s not a whole lot that anybody can do. I wish there was.” Paul climbed into the buggy and took up the reins. “You’re doing the only and best thing you can for him by loving him and supporting him.”
“I only wish it was enough, but it isn’t, it just isn’t.”
“I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but some day you’ll look back on this and know that it was for Adam. Now I’ll try to come back out tomorrow.”
“All right, Paul. Thank you.” Ben said and stepped back. He watched as Paul drove out of the yard then turned to the house. Making himself go back inside was difficult because he knew that he would only see Adam’s suffering there. And not just his – Hoss and Joe were suffering right along with him.
WEEK FOUR
Adam jumped out of the chair and began stalking back and forth in front of the fireplace again. His brothers watched him from where they were trying to play checkers with little success.
Hoss shook his head and turned his attention back to the game. “He’s got as jumpy as a toad on a hot rock.”
“I know,” Joe said as he continued to watch. “And it drives me crazy.”
“Well, now, it ain’t doin’ him a whole lot o’ good
either. And don’t forgit about
“I just wish there was something we could do. He had another one of those headaches last night and almost fell down the stairs. If Pa hadn’t been there to catch ‘im it could’ve all ended right there.” Joe’s soft, dark brows knit together. “And who’s to say it wouldn’t’ve been better that way?”
Hoss’ head shot up, and he drilled Joe with a frosty glare. “Well, you ain’t the one.”
Joe looked around and paled at the look on Hoss’ face. “I don’t want Adam to die, but we both know…”
“We both know what, Joe? Doc said there’s a chance, maybe not a big one, but any’s better ’n none. And as long as there’s that chance Adam deserves to have it an’ nobody, not even you, has the right to take it away from him.”
“Would you two stop that whispering? If you want to talk about me do it to my face and not my back!” Adam shouted with fists clenched.
“Adam we…” Hoss started.
“I know what you were doing, and I want it stopped, do you hear me? If you don’t want me around then just say so!”
“Now Adam, it wasn’t nothin’…”
“Oh, shut up, Hoss!” Adam stormed then blew out of the house right past his father as he was coming in.
Ben shot a look of helpless confusion at Joe then Hoss, but only got baffled looks and one large shrug back. “Adam!” Then he turned and rushed out after his eldest, slamming the door behind him.
As Ben left the porch he almost went into a blind panic – Adam was nowhere in sight. He knew his son couldn’t have gone far, but the plain fact was that Ben didn’t know where he’d gotten to. It was beginning to get dark and the temperature was dropping. He called out, but got no answer. His frantic eyes darted around him as he went farther out into the yard. He called again, but only got more silence in return. Then he turned to the barn – he’d look there before he went off half cocked.
Ben’s heart went into his feet as he stepped into the doorway. Adam stood in the stall with Sport. His head was leaned forward with his forehead against the big chestnut’s neck as he ran his right hand along the shiny reddish-brown coat. “He’s a beautiful horse and a good friend,” Ben said softly as he started toward him.
If Adam heard him he simply chose not to acknowledge.
Ben went around on the other side of the horse across from Adam and rested an arm on the animal’s back. He didn’t say anything else, only watched. As he stood there he could see the little boy that had shown a quick affinity for horses. At eight-years-old he showed more ease and ability in the saddle that many men three times his age. Sport had early on let it be known that he was going to be difficult to handle and anyone else would’ve thrown up their hands in defeat. But not Adam, and a fast and lasting friendship and trust had been born. Only one other person had come close to handling him as well, and it’d delighted Adam no end to see that Joe was becoming such an accomplished horseman. Still, Sport was his companion and would be until one of them died. Ben’s blood chilled at the thought because right now it looked like it wasn’t going to be the horse.
“Pa, I think you should send me away from here.”
Ben looked around into the saddest eyes he’d ever seen in his life and it tore holes in him.
“I don’t think I can handle much more of this,” Adam went on. “Not for myself, but because of what it’s doing to you, Hoss and Joe. It tears me to pieces to know what it’s doing to those I care for.”
“Adam, we’ve already been through this.”
“Hear me out,
“Oh, Adam, you could never…”
“Please, Pa, let me finish. This isn’t helping anybody, it’s just…”
“No,” Ben said with finality. “I won’t hear anymore. You’re my son, this is your home, this is where you belong, and I will not send you off somewhere to be put in the care of strangers. We started this together, and we’re going to finish it together. And I’ll not hear another word on the subject.”
Even in his steadily deteriorating state Adam realized that it was futile to argue the point with his father. And when it came to his family he could out stubborn a mule. But, at that, there was one who could even out stubborn Pa, and he wasn’t content to let it lay without one more try, at least for now. “I’m sure Paul knows of a place where I can…”
“I said no, and I don’t like repeating myself.” Ben put his hand on his son’s arm. “Adam, I…”
Adam smiled tiredly.
“All right,
Ben walked around behind Sport, dragging his hand over the animal’s rump so it would know he was back there. He stepped to Adam and put his arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go back into the house where it’s warmer.” He forced a smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’m a bit chilly.”
Adam tried looking pleasant, but he wasn’t sure how well he’d succeeded. He’d watched the worry building in his father, and he didn’t want to add to it, particularly since he was the reason for it in the first place. The corners of his mouth turned up again as he put his arm around his father. “Now that you mention it, I am a bit chilled myself. And we can see how the big checker game is going.”
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“Of all the stupid things to do!” The front door slammed open and Adam burst in like an angry whirlwind. “If you’d been watching what you were doing…”
“If I was watching what I was doing!” Joe stomped in behind him, his face red with fury. “You’re the one who put it there in the first place!
“Now you two, this ain’t helpin’…” Hoss tried putting in as he came in after Joe.
“Me?” Adam whirled on his little brother, amber fire sparking dangerously in his dark eyes. “Didn’t I tell you I was putting it there? Yes, I did, but I can’t help it if you chose not to listen to me, as usual!”
“As usual? When haven’t I listened to you?”
“Try just all the time!”
“I think that’s enough outta both o’ you,” Hoss said calmly as he tried getting between his brothers.
“Ah, stay outta this, Hoss.” And Adam pushed him.
“What’re you shovin’ him for?”
“Well, maybe you’d like it better if I shoved you!” Adam gave Joe an even harder push.
“I said that’s enough, dadburnit,” Hoss said, his voice raising an octave.
“Not yet it isn’t!” And Joe came back and pushed Adam as hard as he could with both hands.
Registering surprise, Adam staggered back, hooking his foot on the rug. Spinning around, he made an effort to catch, but only wound up with handfuls of air. Before anyone could do anything to stop it, he fell forward – his forehead glancing off the front of the table behind the settee. Then he hit the floor face down and didn’t move anymore.
Hoss threw Joe a harsh look as he went to Adam. He stooped, lightly placing a hand against his brother’s back. “Adam,” came on a breath. “Adam, can you hear me?”
Still Adam didn’t move, but Hoss knew he was alive because he could feel him breathing. Carefully, Hoss turned him over onto his back. A gash that didn’t look to be too deep ran above his right eyebrow, and a trickle of blood ran down over the outer corner of his eye. Hoss said his name again, but still didn’t get a response. Gently as possible he scooped Adam into his arms and stood. As he turned he could see that his little brother was just the color of a snow bank.
“Hoss, I didn’t mean…”
“We ain’t got time for that,” Hoss said firmly. “You go send somebody for Doc Martin, and
then you best go find
“Hoss, I…”
“Git, Joe.”
With one last look at his handiwork Joe bolted out of the house.
“He didn’t mean it,” Hoss said as he looked down into the pale, serene face. “Now let’s git you up to bed an’ git you comfortable before Pa an’ the doc come.”
Hoss shifted Adam closer to his chest and tensed his grip, then started for the stairs.
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Ben Cartwright watched as the doctor finished dressing the injury on his son’s head. Emotions roiled inside him like a tempest, and it was all he could do to keep them from swamping him. A large, comforting hand squeezed his shoulder, and he was glad Hoss was there.
Paul checked the bandage then came toward them methodically rolling down his sleeve.
“How is he, Paul?” Ben asked, almost afraid of the answer.
“He’s all right,” Paul said with a glance back at his patient. “He didn’t hit his head that hard, and the bleeding wasn’t bad.”
“Then why don’t he wake up, Doc? It’s been over three hours.”
“I think he just needs the rest,” Paul said with a reassuring smile. “Since he hasn’t been sleeping his body is taking advantage of this. I wouldn’t worry too much.”
Ben watched his son lying wan and motionless, and he felt the anger come up into his throat like bitter bile.
Paul could tell by the look on Ben’s face that a storm was coming. Joe had done the unthinkable, and his father was understandably furious. He was only afraid that in light of what was going on things could get even more out of hand. “I wouldn’t be too hard on Joe, Ben. I know he feels terrible about this.”
“Hard?” Ben flashed a fierce look at Paul. “That boy’s going to learn a whole new meaning to the word by the time I’m through.”
“Ben, he’s been under a lot of pressure lately and…”
“We all have, but none of us have done anything even approaching this.”
“Pa,” Hoss said softly.
“Stay with your brother, Hoss.” Then with one more look at Adam, Ben turned and stalked out, closing the door quietly.
Joe stood in front of the hearth staring into the fire and waiting for the opening blast of his father’s wrath. In fact, he almost welcomed it. He’d let his temper run away with whatever common sense he possessed, and he’d hurt his brother – killed him for all he knew. While Pa and Hoss were with him and the doctor he couldn’t bring himself to go up there, to see him like that and know he’d done it. “Adam, I’m sorry.”
“And well you should be,” came from the stairs, “but it’s a little late for that.”
Joe looked up as Ben came down the steps, dread filling his anxious eyes. “Pa, he’s not…”
“No.” Ben stepped over to him, rage tracking across his face like a black cloud. “But he could be. Joseph, what were you thinking? Or were you thinking at all? Do you understand what you’ve done?” Ben looked away from his son then right back. “I thought I could trust you to take care of him and see that he was safe! Then the first time I leave you with him you do something incredibly stupid and mindless like this!”
“Pa, I…”
“No,” Ben said, shaking his head, “don’t say it. Hoss told me what happened, and there’s no excuse for what you’ve done. Yes, I’ll admit that Adam’s gotten more difficult to live with, but I thought you knew enough to know that it isn’t his fault. So what do you do? You get into an argument with him and push him. Why didn’t you just hit him while you were at it?”
Joe watched the toes of his boots. He felt like he was being ground under his father’s heel. But he made no attempt to defend his action because he knew there was no defense for what he’d done. He didn’t like being treated like a child, yet he’d acted like one. So the least he could do was take his father’s tongue lashing like a man.
“Do you realize that you came within a hair’s breadth of killing your own brother? If he’d hit the table a bit harder he could’ve fractured his skull or broken his neck. We could be having his funeral tomorrow because of your hot temper. Joe, I can’t believe you did that!” Ben turned away from him and leaned his fist against the fireplace.
“As far as I’m concerned my brother’s already dead,” Joe said lifelessly.
Ben’s head shot around, and his eyes were like onyx marbles. “How dare you say a thing like that! He’s still very much alive.”
“Do you call that living?” Joe blurted as he looked up. “Sure he’s still breathing, and he walks and talks, but he hardly eats, and he prowls around at night like a nervous cougar. He doesn’t read or play his guitar and sing – nothing.”
“That’s not his fault, and that certainly doesn’t change what you did. I know this has been hard on you, but did you ever stop to think about how much harder it is on him?”
“I know it’s hard on ‘im, but…”
“But what?”
Joe’s head dropped briefly, and then he looked back at his father. “He’s just not Adam anymore, and I miss ‘im. I just want ‘im back like he used to be. But I know I never will because, whether you want to face it or not, Pa, he’s gonna die, and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.”
Ben felt like he’d just been hit in the face with a gun butt. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought of Adam’s dying, but to hear Joe come right out and say it so bluntly shook him. Ben watched him closely, and he could see the grief and sense of loss in the warm green that looked back at him. He let some of his anger die out because – no matter what he’d done – Joe was his son, and he was in pain too.
He rested his hands on the young man’s shoulders and traced the lines of sadness, regret and the past two and a half weeks in the handsome face with his eyes. Then he abruptly threw his arms around him and clutched Joe to him and felt his son’s arms encircling him.
“I’m sorry, Pa,” Joe whispered.
“I know you are, son, I know.” Then Ben stood back, holding Joe out in front of him at arm’s length and smiled warmly. “Now why don’t you go on up and see your brother?”
Joe glanced toward the second floor, uncertain if he could do this. Would Adam forgive him for what he’d done? And more to the point, could he forgive himself? With a deep sigh and a nod he started for the stairs and wished that he could change everything back to the way it was before that wolf had shattered all their lives.
Hoss and Paul left the room as Joe came in, Hoss giving him a nod and a reassuring wink before following the doctor. As the door pulled together behind him Joe let his gaze go to the silent, unmoving individual on the bed. As he drew closer the stark white bandage against the raven black hair came as a bit of a shock. As he looked down on his beloved oldest brother an ache settled in him and tears burned behind his eyes and made his nose sting. “I did this,” he said in a barely audible voice that cracked. “I’m sorry, Adam.”
Sitting down on the edge of the bed he took one of Adam’s hands in his own. He looked at the long, tapered fingers and felt the calluses from hours of hard work and playing his cherished guitar. Then the thought that he would never hear his brother play again ran him down, and he couldn’t handle it. He leaned forward, burying his face against his brother’s broad chest and cried like a spanked little boy.
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Adam stared into the depths of the flames as he sat in his blue chair. He didn’t seem to be aware that anybody or anything was around him. Joe sat on the low table in front of the hearth watching him like a hawk watches a rabbit hole.
Ben leaned back in the tufted green leather chair watching his sons from behind the sturdy mahogany desk. The paperwork in front of him had been quickly forgotten as he got wrapped up in the scene playing out before him. He didn’t notice Hoss come down the stairs and head toward him.
“They still at it?” Hoss asked as he stepped around to his father’s side.
Ben nodded, never looking away from them.
“It’s been two days since the accident,” Hoss said. “You’d think one’d run outta steam.”
Ben gave Hoss an incredulous glance. “This is Joe and Adam you’re talking about.”
“Yeah,” Hoss said with a frown, “both stubborn-headed mules who won’t give an inch to the other.”
“That about sums it up.”
“Pa, why don’t they just…” But his voice fell off as Ben seized his arm. He followed his father’s gaze to his brothers.
Slowly, the long legs pushed the lean frame up and out of the chair. If Adam noticed Joe he didn’t let on as he started for the front door. Joe’s head dropped with a defeated jerk.
“Well, are you coming or not?” Adam asked as he opened the big oak door, without looking back at his little brother.
Joe looked toward Adam, eager anticipation plastered all over his face. With a bound, he left the table and followed his brother out of the house.
“I guess that means all’s forgiven,” Hoss said with a grin.
“For now, son, for now.”
WEEK FIVE
Hop Sing sat on the seat of the buckboard next to Hoss, his valise clutched in his lap. His mind was still having trouble accepting what he’d been told about Mista Adam. And not only that, he was mad as a boiled rooster for not being told before this. He knew this’d been kept from him so he wouldn’t have so much to worry about, but he would’ve been willing to take the worry. These were his boys and when something happened to one of them it happened to him.
The house came into sight and Hop Sing wished Mista Hoss
would make the horses go faster. He
wanted to see the first-born son. To Hop
Sing, Joe was a free spirit and Hoss a big overgrown child who liked stealing
doughnuts, but Adam was the one who’d sat in the kitchen listening to his many
stories about
Now there was a very real danger that he could lose him. He’d seen this disease run its course, and he knew what the end result invariably was. He’d heard talk of cases where it hadn’t always been so, but he’d never seen it firsthand or known anyone who had.
His hands tightened on the handles of the piece of luggage as they moved closer to home at a steady pace. As they did he saw a tall, slim figure wearing a tan shirt and black vest waiting for them. He seemed to stand perfectly still like a strong tree – but even trees could fall.
As the buckboard finally pulled up in front of the house Hop Sing instantly saw the changes. His boy had lost weight and some of his color had faded. There were dark smudges beneath the eyes from which some of the spark had left. The bandage was gone, but the crease over his right eyebrow from the tussle with Joe that Hoss had told him about was very evident. The way he held himself even seemed different, as if he was already beaten. And that simply wasn’t like Adam at all. Hop Sing had never seen this one bested at anything – until now.
“Not often number one son gleet Hop Sing when he come home,” Hop Sing said as he stepped down. “Usually out on lange.”
“Well, right now Pa’s got me patrolling in the house,” Adam said with a wry grin as he took the valise from the little cook.
“That’s right.” Hoss went around back of the buckboard and lifted a large keg of nails as if it were a feather pillow. “And he’s doin’ a real good job of it too. Fact is, Pa’s been thinkin’ about takin’ ‘im on full time. Now why don’t you two go on in the house while I take this into the barn?”
“Sounds fine to me,” Adam said as his eyes connected with the inscrutable ones that never left him. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to get back into your own kitchen.”
“It good to be home so cook for family. Hop Sing stay away too long, Mista Adam get skinny.” He reached out and pinched Adam’s arm. “Need fattening up.”
Adam conjured up his best laugh. “Is it any wonder, since Hoss has been doing the cooking?”
Hop Sing wasn’t fooled, he knew his boy was frightened and what one saw on the outside was a façade against what was going on inside. But he didn’t let on; Mista Adam would talk to him about it when and if he decided to.
Adam put his arm around the little man’s shoulders. “Now why don’t we take Hoss’ advice and go on in? Pa was at his desk last time I looked, and I know he’s going to be mighty glad to see you.” He leaned down and whispered in Hop Sing’s ear. “He told me this morning that a month of Hoss’s leathery eggs was more that anybody could stand.”
“Well, he no more have to eat leather eggs now that Hop Sing home,” Hop Sing whispered back.
Adam gave him a jovial pat on the back, and they started toward the house. “So, how’s your sister doing?”
“She much, much better. Say it time for me to come home, she no more need mollycoddle.”
Adam made another attempt at showing his amusement as they went inside.
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Adam stared at his plate, he loved Hop Sing’s roast pork and sweet potatoes, but tonight just the smell turned his stomach, and sitting still long enough to eat was becoming more of a problem. And the water goblet was even less inviting. The mere sight of it made his throat seize. He pushed the food around with his fork and hoped that nobody noticed. But he knew that was wrong, because these days his family noticed everything, and now Hop Sing was home, and he never missed anything anyway.
“You no like Hop Sing’s cooking no more? You like Mista Hoss better?”
Adam looked up and caught a decidedly mischievous twinkle in the black Asian eyes watching him. He made a stab at a grin, but it didn’t quite materialize. “I guess I’m just not used to this good food anymore. They say you can develop a taste for anything if you eat it long enough. I guess they’re right.”
“Oh, thanks, big brother,” Hoss said with mock indignation. “Next time I’ll just let you go hungry.”
“No, I’ll eat it – get me out of my misery quicker.”
With that remark the room went dead silent, he was in misery and everybody knew it. He suddenly felt like he was even more the center of attention. He looked around him at the somber faces and knew he had to get out of there. “Pa, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll get some fresh air. It might sort of perk up my appetite.”
“All right, son. But don’t stay out too long.”
With a slight nod Adam put down his napkin and pushed himself away from the table. With a purposeful stride he crossed the room, his boots clicking against the floor and went outside.
June had warmed up after the cold May they’d had, but the nights were still chilly. The scent of pine hung heavy in the air as a light breeze twisted in the tops of the trees. Leaned back against the porch post with his arms crossed over his chest, Adam looked into the ever darkening sky. The setting sun stretched coral fingers across it as if reaching for him.
He would miss the Ponderosa, and he liked to think it would
miss him. This country had been his home
for the better part of his life, and now it was where he would rest. Since returning from college he’d thought
that some day he would like to go back to
“Mista Adam velly quiet tonight.”
Adam looked quickly around into the poignant face of Hop Sing. “I guess I just don’t have a lot to say.” He snorted. “I guess there’s not a whole lot to say.”
“They plenty to say; about you being good son and how much family love you. You father always velly ploud.” His voice dropped off then came back softer. “And Hop Sing velly ploud. That why he have something for you.”
Adam’s brow creased as he watched the little cook dig into a pocket of his tunic. Gently, Hop Sing took one of the hands that was bigger than his own and placed a tissue wrapped object in it. Adam’s eyes traced the face of the man that had come to be like a second father to him and his brothers.
“This for you. It be with you when Hop Sing not.” He nodded to it. “Open.”
Adam hesitated for less than a second then began peeling back
the delicate paper. Inside was a small,
intricately carved jade dragon of the creamiest pale green. He held it up to what remained of the
daylight, and it turned opaque. He knew
that both jade and dragons were symbols of good fortune in
“I not tell this before and you not tell.”
Adam nodded.
“You my favolite boy.” Then, without another word, Hop Sing shuffled back inside.
Adam was stunned by this revelation. He’d always thought Joe was the son Hop Sing leaned most toward. He rubbed his thumb over the cool, highly polished surface of the figurine and let what’d been said to him sink in. Then it dawned, as clarity sometimes has a way of doing on the edge of death. Each one of them was Hop Sing’s favorite and each for a different reason. Tears stung the rims of his eyes, and he found himself praying for the end to hurry and come to put a stop to his family’s torture. Then his gaze went to the barn as his hand clenched around the precious piece of jade.
“Enough of this. I can’t watch this anymore.” He looked back around at the house. “I’m sorry, Pa, but this is for the best. Please forgive me.” Then, with the most determination he’d shown in weeks, he headed off across the yard.
The family got up from the table and retreated to the parlor as Hop Sing cleared away the supper dishes.
As he sat down in the red leather chair by the hearth, Ben’s eyes strayed toward the door. “Joe, I think you’re brother’s been out there long enough. Why don’t you go get him?”
“All right,
Ben turned his attention to the fire and thought about the last four weeks. His family had been through pure torment and it wasn’t even close to being over. He laced his fingers and settled himself as he tried to recall how it’d been before the attack on his son. He’d been a happy man with his sons around him on the Ponderosa, but now he would give up every square inch of it to have Adam back healthy. As long as he had his boys he could be content anywhere.
“Pa! Pa!”
Ben’s head jerked around as Joe burst in, breathless and wild-eyed. “Joseph, what…”
“Pa, I can’t find Adam! And…” Joe leaned forward with his hands resting on his legs in an attempt to catch his breath. “And Sport’s gone!”
Ben came up out of the chair like he’d been jerked on a chain. “Gone? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, Pa, I’m sure. I’ve got some of the men out looking around. But if he’s on Sport…”
“But if he didn’t take any food or water. And his coat and gun are still here,” Ben cut in. “He can’t live out there like that.”
Hoss’ face hardened.
“I think that’s the idea,
Ben went hollow as his son’s words said more than he wanted to hear. “All right, we’re not going to find him by standing around here.”
As Ben started for the door Hoss stopped him. “Pa, it’s gonna be dark in a little bit, and there ain’t no way we’re gonna find him once the sun goes down. We could ride right past him and not know it. As much as I don’t like it, it’ll be better if’n we wait till first light.”
“There’s still light left,” Ben said desperately.
“Yeah, an’ by the time we git everybody an’ everything together there won’t be.”
“Hoss, it’s gonna get cold tonight just like it did last night and…”
“I know, Joe, but it ain’t gonna do ‘im no good if’n we cain’t find ‘im.”
Ben went around and sank down on the settee and buried his face in his hands. “How could I have been so stupid? I let my guard down and my son is gone. Since this happened he’s wanted me to send him away. I should’ve known.” Ben’s head dropped even lower. “Oh, Adam.”
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Adam sat on a large rock huddled over the meager fire he’d built, Sport’s saddle blanket draped around his back and shoulders. In his haste to make good his escape he’d forgotten his bedroll. The horse was picketed not far away, and he was glad for the company, even that of an animal.
He’d managed to loot some provisions from the store house when nobody was around and gotten a canteen from the barn, which he’d filled from the pump at the water trough. But he’d crept off without much else. He knew that by going back into the house he ran the risk of being caught and stopped.
With both hands he pulled the smelly, scratchy blanket around him. It was fine for a horse, but inadequate for a man. A wolf howled, and his right hand went instinctively to his hip, but the security of the gun wasn’t there. He hadn’t even bothered to bring his rifle, and he didn’t know if it was an oversight or deliberate. Besides being about to freeze to death, he was defenseless. But, in a way, he wished another rabid wolf would come in and finish off what the first had started.
He looked up at the myriad of stars twinkling in the vast blackness overhead. “I wish I could go home,” he said half to himself. “But that’s just not in the cards, is it, Cartwright? I just can’t watch Pa, Joe and Hoss anymore. And now Hop Sing.” He reached into his vest pocket and took out the cool, hard piece of jade and held it close to the firelight. “I doubt Pa’s very proud of me right about now.” He rubbed his thumb over the contours of the dragon and felt the fine lines of a craftsman.
Suddenly, he slid to the ground onto his knees. “Not now,” he said into the night. His hand tightened on the charm, and he groaned against the pain. “No medicine.” Gritting his teeth, he tried standing, but his body wasn’t in the mood to cooperate. Oh, how he wished someone would come along and put a bullet in his brain. Nothing had ever hurt so badly in his life.
Then a sharp, knife-like pain ran through his eyes, almost taking his breath. He cried out, but there was no one around to hear him. Another piercing agony caught him and brought with it oblivion that took away everything as he fell over next to the fire and didn’t move, Hop Sing’s gift still clutched in his hand. Adam Cartwright was unconscious and totally unaware of the night revolving around him.
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The four mounted men stopped at the edge of the creek bank and Hoss Cartwright got down. He stooped, and his eyes scanned the ground in front of him.
“Well, he came this way, that’s for sure. You can see where his tracks go into the water.” Hoss came back and climbed onto Chubb. “All right, let’s git after ‘im.”
They splashed across, but stopped before getting back onto dry land when Hoss raised his hand. He got down and walked along the bank, his gaze never straying from the ground. “Dang, I always knew that boy was slick.”
“What’re you talkin’ about?” Joe asked.
“He didn’t come out,” Hoss said, pushing his hat back. “He stayed in the creek bed. And we ain’t got no way o’ knowin’ if’n he went up or down.”
“Well, up’ll take ‘im closer to the property line and away from the house,” Joe said as he watched his brother.
“Yep and that just may’ve been what ol’ Adam was hopin’ we’d think.” Hoss’ face scrunched up in thought then he turned to the two men. “Chet, you an’ Hal go up an’ me’n Joe’ll take down. Keep your eyes on the bed for anything that don’t look right. An’ if’n you find sign that he went that way or… him, fire off two shots, and we’ll come a runnin’. We’ll do the same.”
“All right, boss,” one of the men said then turned his horse along with the other man, and they started on their way.
Hoss mounted up again then he and Joe eased their horses on watching every inch beneath them. But after about fifteen minutes of looking and finding nothing, Hoss drew up, and Joe did likewise.
“This ain’t right, Joe. We should o’ found somethin’, a turned over rock, somethin’. And there ain’t been no signal from Chet and Hal.” Hoss’ mouth drew down. “I got an idea. Come on.”
They rode back to where Adam should’ve come out on the bank.
“I still don’t see anything.”
“No, and you ain’t likely to.” Hoss looked around him. “Now let’s split up but stay in sight o’ each other.”
They nudged their horses on, watching every speck of ground carefully.
“Joe, over here!”
Joe kicked Cochise and rode over to where Hoss was kneeling.
“See, here he goes again. He came out right where I thought he did, got this far, then went back and brushed out his tracks.” Hoss stood then climbed into the saddle.
Joe took out his pistol and aimed it into the air.
“Not yet, Joe. Let ‘em keep goin’. Adam’s headed that way, and they might find somethin’.”
They followed Adam’s tracks until they came to a rocky hill and reined in at the foot of it.
“Yep, they go right on up through them rocks. And we’re probably gonna have to pick ‘im up on the other side, if’n we pick ‘im up at all.”
“Well, now you told me that a horse can be trailed over rocks if you know what you’re looking for. That the shoes’ll leave fresh nicks.”
“That’s right, unless you take a handful o’ dirt and rub into ‘em. And then they look like they’ve been there for a long time.”
Dejection filled Joe’s face. “Oh, Hoss, he wouldn’t.”
“I ‘spect he did.”
“But, Hoss, you’re one of the best trackers I’ve ever seen.”
“I may be, but you remember who taught me?”
Joe’s dejection only grew. “Adam.”
“That’s right. Sometimes I think he’s as much Paiute as the ones he growed up around.” Hoss shook his head. “He’s playin’ for time. He ain’t tryin’ to lose us, just slow us down a might till he can git away. Then, when he’s ready, we won’t find nary a trace.” Hoss shook his head again and clicked his teeth. “Like I said – slick.”
They started their horses and moved on toward the hill.
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Ben was sorry he’d let Hoss and Joe talk him out of going with them, but when they’d suggested he stay at the house in case Adam returned, he’d reluctantly agreed. It’d been three days since his sons had ridden out in search of their brother, and he hadn’t heard a thing.
He stood at the dormant fireplace looking down onto the charred logs, his mind running, trying to figure out where his son could’ve gone. He knew why Adam had left. Since this whole thing had started he’d wanted his father to send him away. He knew that his son couldn’t stand watching his family grieve on his account, until he’d finally decided to do something about it.
Knowing Adam as he did, he should’ve known he’d try a thing like this. Yet, his son had seemed to accept that he was stuck with his family in the time remaining, and he’d gotten complacent. And as he was learning, complacency could get you or someone else into a whole lot of trouble.
As he stood there he became aware of horses out in the yard, and his heart skipped. Whirling on the ball of his foot he headed for the door.
But as he went out onto the porch all his hopes were dashed
into the dirt. It was Len Wilkerson, who
owned the livery in
Ben went straight to the big chestnut and ran his hand along the dusty coat. “Where’d you find him, Len?”
“Didn’t find ‘im,” Len said as he got down and came around by Ben. “Your Adam come by yesterday, bought a horse off me. Paid me for ‘im, then paid me to bring this’un home. Said to tell you to take good care of ‘im, that he didn’t need ‘im no more.”
Ben tensed inside.
Adam was cutting all ties to his family and home – he was going to go
off someplace to die, and he didn’t want anyone to know where. His son had been in town. All this time searching for him, and he’d
been in
“Nope, did tell me to give you a message though. He said to tell you not to worry about ‘im none, that he cleared all his money outta the bank to live on till the time come an’ then to take care of the arrangements, whatever that meant. An’ he said to give you this.” Len scrounged in his shirt pocket and came out with a highly polished object and handed it to Ben. “He said his luck’d run out an’ you needed this more ’n him.”
Ben held the pale jade green dragon to the light and it turned opaque. His hand clenched around it, and he felt such crushing grief and loss that he thought it was going to suffocate him. His boy had gone to die alone.
WEEK SIX
Joe stepped into the open doorway of the barn and looked out toward the house, a coil of rope in his hand. He watched his father sitting motionless on the front porch, staring ahead at nothing.
“Your work ain’t done yet, Little Joe,” Hoss said as he stepped next to him.
“Look at ‘im, Hoss. As cold, hard and still as that piece of jade he’s always got with ‘im. The other day he was just sitting and rubbing it. I told ‘im we oughtta go look for Adam. I even said I’d go saddle the horses right then.”
“An’ what’d he say?”
“Just what you’d expect ‘im to say where the great Adam Cartwright is concerned. That this was what Adam wanted and we should respect it.” Joe spun around and threw the rope with a vengeance, and it landed with a thud against the oat bin. “Hoss, how could he be so selfish? How could he just run off like that without a word? If I had him here right now I’d hit ‘im and make ‘im look at what he’s done to our pa.”
“An’ you think he was bein’ selfish?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Joe, don’t you think it was about half killin’ Adam to run off like that? All right, maybe he was some selfish ‘cause he couldn’t stand watchin’ his family. But it was most ‘cause he couldn’t stand his family watchin’ him. You think he couldn’t see what it was doin’ to our pa?” Hoss rested his hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Joe, our brother’s gonna die away from the ones what love him. An’ we won’t even know where he’s buried.”
Joe’s face set with determination. “Not if I can help it,” he said and marched to Cochise’s stall.
“Now what’re you gonna do?” Hoss asked as he went after him.
“I’m goin’ after Adam.”
Hoss stopped him as he started to lift his saddle. “Oh, no, you ain’t. This is probably one o’ the last decisions
Adam’ll make in his life, and I happen to go along with
Joe’s sadness filled his young face, and his hands tightened on the cool leather. “Hoss, I don’t want ‘im to die, but since he’s going to I don’t want it to be alone.” He turned to his brother. “He should be here with us and not out there someplace with people who don’t even know ‘im.”
“I go along with that, but this is the way Adam wants it. Not because he likes it, but because he loves us and don’t want us to have to watch ‘im waste away to nothin’.”
“Loves us? Hoss, if he loves us he’d know that we’d want to be with ‘im, no matter what comes. And most especially when he… when he dies because that’s the way it should be in a family.” Joe turned away from him and slammed his fist into one of the stall dividers. “I just want ‘im to come back for what time he has left. And I want to be able to visit his grave when…”
Hoss rubbed his little brother’s back. “I know, Joe, I do to. But it just ain’t gonna happen. It just ain’t.”
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Hop Sing sat on a wooden bench by the door that lead out from the kitchen plucking a duck for supper. He was going to roast it with sage-rice stuffing, one of Mista Adam’s favorites. His fingers worked automatically, but his mind was miles away with the first-born. Where was he and what was was he doing? Was he safe and with people who would treat him well? Hop Sing sniffled and scrubbed at his nose. When he thought of his oldest boy his emotions grew agitated. He wanted him home where he belonged. But he knew why he’d left, and he respected it and tried to understand. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
He knew why the jade dragon had been sent. It wasn’t because it was no longer valued, but because it’s good fortune was being passed on. Hop Sing knew his boy well enough to know that he would never discard his gift lightly. So, as a showing of love and a wish for prosperity, it had been left to his father.
His hand stopped working, and his head dropped as his eyes clamped shut. “Please to watch after Mista Adam,” he said softly. “And when time come make sure he get to mother.”
WEEK SEVEN
Cochise tore into the yard like a pack of hungry wolves was after him and came to a skidding halt in front of the house. Joe leapt from the saddle unable to contain his excitement and bounded inside. “Pa!”
He burst in through the front door and found his father sitting in the blue chair with the little dragon clasped in his hand, staring into the lifeless hearth. “Pa!” Joe ran over and stood in front of him.
Ben slowly looked up at him. “Joseph, what on earth is wrong?” he asked blandly.
“Pa, I think I may’ve found where Adam is,” he said breathlessly.
Ben couldn’t help that his heart fluttered, but he knew not to let it run away with him. “And what makes you think that?”
“Today when I was in the Bucket of Blood,” he said as he sat down on the end of the low table, “I heard a stranger at the bar talkin’. I didn’t pay attention to it at first, but then he said something about a man that works at the livery in Gordon’s Junction.”
“So what does that have to do…?”
“He said he’d been through there last week after a long time in the saddle and that his horse was clean wore out,” he said as he rested a hand on his father’s knee. “There was this fella workin’ there that he said had a real way with horses and if you ever went there you didn’t have anything to worry about.”
“Well, Joe, that could be anybody. It doesn’t mean it’s Adam.
“I know that, Pa, so I asked ‘im what he looked like.” Joe’s fingers tightened on his father’s leg. “He said he was tall and sorta thin with thick black hair and brown eyes.”
Ben’s hand squeezed the figurine, and he sat up straighter. “That still doesn’t mean…”
“Pa, I asked if he knew what his name was.” Joe’s breathing quickened. “
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Gordon’s Junction was a small town, not much more than a dip in the road really, of about a hundred people. It looked like any other western hamlet with citizens that were no different. It took just a little over three days hard riding for Ben and Joe to get there. Hoss had wanted to come with them, but it had been decided that one of them should stay home on the off chance that Adam returned.
They stopped to ask for directions then went right to the sheriff’s office. Once inside they were cordially greeted by a big red-haired man. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you gents around here. I’m Sheriff Tyler.”
“We’ve never been this way. I’m Ben Cartwright, and this is my son Joe.”
“From the Ponderosa,”
“We’re looking for a man by the name of Ross Benjamin,” Ben said. “He’s supposed to be working at the livery. Is he still in town?”
“Well, whadya wantta find ‘im for?”
“I think he may be my son.”
“Not here?” Joe asked abruptly. “Where’d he go?”
“Don’t rightly know. He left three days back, said he’d stayed in one place too long as it was. He wasn’t even sure where he was goin’, just so’s it was off. Then he got on that big dun o’ his an’ rode out.”
Ben’s shoulders slumped, and he didn’t try to conceal his disappointment. He thanked the man, and they started to go when Joe turned back around.
“Sheriff, did you ever notice if he had a straight scar coming up from the edge of his top lip on the left side?”
“Sure did, even asked ‘im about it once. He said he got it while tryin’ to ride a rank
bronc when he was seventeen.”
Black nearly swallowed the green of Joe’s eyes, and he gulped. “Yeah,” he said dejectedly, “I guess he wasn’t. Thanks again, Sheriff.”
“You gonna be stayin’ here for the night?”
“No,” Joe said, “we’ll be headin’ right back home.” Then he left with his father.
“Hey, Jake,” he said as he stepped inside the livery stable. “Where’s Ross?”
The grizzled owner of the stable looked around, but didn’t get a chance to answer.
“Right here,” said a deep baritone as a handsome, black-haired man came out of one of the stalls. He could tell by the look on the sheriff’s face that all wasn’t right. “What’s wrong, Ham?”
“Ben Cartwright and one of his sons came lookin’ for you just like you said he might. And I did like you asked me to.”
The blood drained from Ross’ face. “Where are they now?”
“They’re headed out of town at a slow walk,”
Ross walked to the open doorway and looked out into the street. His fingers dug into the rim of the door as his intense hazel eyes lit on the backs of the two men. He almost wished he hadn’t seen them, but another part of him was glad he had.
Sheriff Tyler stepped next to him, and his eyes followed Ross’ gaze. “I still think you’re wrong. I mean if knew I was gonna die I’d wantta be with my family. But it’s your life, and I can’t tell you what’s right for you. And I figger a man’s got a right to make his own decisions about where and when he’s gonna go if he gets the chance. And you did trust me enough to tell me when I asked.” Then he reached out and gripped Ross’ shoulder.
“Thanks, Ham.” A single tear tracked down Ross’ left cheek and longing swelled in his chest. “Good-bye, Pa…. Joe.”
WEEK EIGHT
Ben stood in his eldest son’s room looking out at the huge pines and the mountains behind the house. Adam had designed it with himself in mind, and he’d done the same with his father’s room and those of his brothers. He’d used the windows as one would a picture frame to capture the beauty outside them. This house, much as he loved it, only suited to remind him every day of what he’d lost. He didn’t know that his son was dead yet, but he feared deep in his heavy heart that he would never see him again. That maybe he wouldn’t even know of his final resting place ate at him like the strongest acid and left wounds that he knew would never heal. But he also knew that he would never stop looking.
His fingers tightened on the back of the chair where he’d seen his son sit many times. Rubbing his hand lightly down its soft cover he felt the slight indentation left by Adam’s head over the years. As he looked closer he saw a single, wavy black hair and plucked it. He would put it with the hank he’d clipped from his son when he was no more than a week old and put safely away in an envelope.
The sudden need to get out of that room came all at once. Taking one last look at the things that spoke of Adam, he turned and walked out. He would come back before he went to bed to say goodnight to his son, but he knew he probably wouldn’t sleep tonight either. And he also knew that his life would never be the same again.
As he reached the head of the stairs he took the small piece of jade from his vest pocket and grazed his thumb over it. “I wish you could come back home, son. But I’m afraid the only wish I can have granted now is that you rest in peace.” His fingers tightened around the gemstone, and his eyes squeezed together. “No, I won’t give up on you. I can’t do that.” He looked at the gift from his son, then put it back in his pocket and went on downstairs.
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Hoss scrubbed the toe of his boot in the remains of what had once been a campfire not so awfully long ago. Now it was just a collection of stones and a few pieces of charred wood. He crouched by it and picked up a stick and poked at it. This was where it had happened. This was where the beginning of the end of his older brother’s life began.
The sound of that terrible scream resonated in his ears, and the image of that wolf all over his brother was indelibly seared into his mind. He’d shot and killed it, but not before it had infected its victim. The stench of burning flesh still hung in his nostrils as much as he tried not to smell it. As he stood he tossed the twig aside and hugged himself and could feel Adam’s quivering as he’d held him.
He took his hat off and held it with both hands in front of him as he bowed his head. His tears fell into the summer grass, and he didn’t try to stop them.
“I’m, sorry, Adam, I just wasn’t fast enough. I know you never blamed me, but I keep thinkin’ I could o’ stopped it if only…” His voice cracked and died. “Nope,” he said and raised his head, “you’d be mad as a hornet at me for takin’ the blame for what wasn’t nobody’s fault. It just happened and there wasn’t nothin’ nobody could do to stop it.”
He put his hat back on and didn’t worry about his tears because he knew they would dry before he got to the house. And he didn’t care if they never did. He wasn’t ashamed for people to know how much he loved and missed his brother. If they didn’t like it then that was their problem and not his.
He went back to Chubb and picked up the reins from where he’d ground tied him and got into the saddle. His sad blue eyes took in the country around him, and he wished Adam was there with him. But he knew that just couldn’t be so he didn’t dwell on it.
With a gentle kick the big Morgan eased into a trot. It was time to go back home.
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This Saturday was the first time Joe had been away from his family since this whole thing had begun. He’d started to town to get rip roaring drunk, but about half way there changed his mind. Getting boiled and getting up in the morning with a head the size of a hay wagon wasn’t going to help anything and right now Pa didn’t need him fuzzy-brained.
With a light tug he turned Cochise’s head and started back home. At this pace he’d probably get there just in time for supper.
As the little paint clipped along Joe found his thoughts going increasingly to Adam. After the disappointing journey to Gordon’s Junction he’d tried not to let his mind run into the past to hide. But now it was coming at him like a wave, and he couldn’t keep it back. Memories of his childhood with his strong brother always there for him elicited a moan from him, and he urged the horse faster. Maybe if he couldn’t hold them back he could outrun them.
Cochise’s hooves thudded the ground like mallets as Joe steadily nudged him on. But the ever encroaching memories stayed right on him, and he couldn’t shake them. His mind held his brother falling against the table and then lying as if already dead. Another page flipped, and he saw his father, his cheeks tear-streaked, sitting on the stairs holding Adam as he had when he was a boy. And then there was the blood on his badly torn arm when he and Hoss got home. Joe didn’t want to see it or think it or remember it. All he wanted was Adam back with those who cared for him, and he knew that could never be.
With the abruptness of a flash storm, Joe reined in the little paint so quickly that the animal’s front feet left the ground, and his tail and hocks drug. He leapt from the saddle and took off at a dead run. He wasn’t sure where he was running to just so it was away from the grief that was crowding in on him. It felt like he was being squeezed to death, and he couldn’t breathe.
Then, with the same suddenness, he stopped and fell to his knees. His heart was racing and his mind along with it. He looked up at the sky, and as he did the sun ducked behind a bank of clouds, wrapping a soft gray shadow over everything. “Adam!” he shouted, but his brother’s name floated into the wind and no answer came.
Then he bent forward against the hard ground and closed his
eyes. He was only nineteen, his life was
just getting a good start, but he wasn’t sure if he could face the rest of it
without Adam. When he’d been away at
college it was only as far as
His pitiful weeping filled the air and bounced off the trees and rocks and hills and only Cochise heard.
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Hop Sing’s routine had changed little, only the way in which he went about it. The spirit and vim which marked the little man’s passage through the house and the lives of the family had become a thing of the past. If it still existed he kept it well hidden. The truth was Hop Sing didn’t feel very energetic. His oldest boy was gone and with him had gone the life and light from of all their lives.
After finishing with the breakfast dishes he took a carrot from the basket on the small table and went out into the yard. He crossed to the barn and once inside went straight to Sport’s stall. Without a word he held the treat out. He spoke to him in soft Cantonese and stroked the satiny nose as the big chestnut availed himself of the goodie. It crunched noisily in his teeth and Hop Sing lost himself in one of the few joys left to him, taking care of Mista Adam’s horse.
Sport seemed to revel in the little cook’s attention. As he polished off the carrot he nuzzled Hop Sing and got a fond pat in return.
“I know you miss him. I miss him to,” he said and felt the sting behind his eyes. “But Hop Sing take good care of you for him. You no have to wolly, and he no have to wolly. Now I go back and see you again tonight.” Then he gave the animal another pat and turned and left.
He went toward the house with a scuffed, dull tread. Once he didn’t mind the housework and the cooking, but now it was just so much drudgery. Still, it had to be done and it was his place.
He went in through the kitchen door and picked up his day again. But he only went through the motions, the flame had gone out.
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Paul Martin stepped to the calendar on the wall near his desk and tore off another day. It would be a full eight weeks tomorrow since he’d been called out to the Ponderosa. He would never forget Adam’s stoicism as they talked over what had befallen him. He’d seen some reduced to tears and others calm, but Ben’s eldest had seemed indifferent to the whole thing. But Paul had caught a glint of fear in the darkest recesses of the deep hazel eyes. Whoever said that the eyes were the windows to the soul knew of what he spoke.
He’d heard folks talking about Adam’s slipping away from his family and being in town not because his father had sent him as he said he was. When first told about it he’d had to act surprised and stunned. If it got out that Adam had come to him in the dead of night and asked for help before leaving it would surely get back to Ben. Paul knew that this would damage if not completely destroy a friendship that he valued very highly. And he figured that Ben didn’t need the added anguish. But that was only one of the reasons he kept quiet.
He hadn’t agreed with what Adam was doing, but he knew the young man well enough to know that he couldn’t talk him out of it. So when he asked for some of the medicine to take with him Paul couldn’t refuse. As a doctor he could ‘do no harm’. He’d made the suggestion that he go back home, but Adam had been adamant about it and made him promise to keep his secret. And Paul kind of suspected that it was more for his own sake than Adam’s. When it came to his sons, Ben Cartwright could be as fierce as a mother bear.
Paul stuck his hat on his head then picked up his black medical bag and started out through the foyer. He needed to check on Emily Pearson and her new daughter, and it was a long drive out to their place and back. He stepped out onto the porch and looked into the incredibly clear blue sky. It was going to be a beautiful day, and he couldn’t help wonder where Adam was going to spend it, if he was even still alive.
With a heavy sigh he went down the steps and headed for the barn. He might as well get started.
WEEK NINE
Ben and his two sons sat around the supper table. They were picking at their food and conversation only consisted of asking for something to be passed. Eyes stayed on plates and glasses and bowls and away from each other.
Suddenly, Hoss and Joe jumped, and their heads shot up as Ben slammed his fork down and china clinked.
“That’s enough!” he bellowed. “Tip toeing around isn’t hiding what I know you two are thinking so you might as well go ahead and say it!”
“Say what?” Joe asked as he aimed a puzzled glance at his brother.
“Tomorrow is the beginning of the tenth week. And you’re thinking that you’re brother is dead. Well, I won’t have it, do you hear?” Ben threw his napkin onto his plate. “I won’t have you giving up on him!”
“Well, now, Pa…” Hoss started defensively.
“Don’t well, now, Pa me! We have to believe…”
“Believe what, Pa?” Joe blurted. “That tomorrow or the next day he’ll come
riding in and say ‘I’m home,
Ben sighed and dropped his head. He hadn’t meant to snap at his sons for thinking what he fought daily to keep at bay. How long could this go on before he finally owned up to reality?
“I think maybe I oughtta go after ‘im.”
“No,” Ben said as he looked at Hoss, “let him alone. Sometimes a man just needs to be alone with his thoughts, like your little brother does now. Go on and finish your supper, son.” But when Hoss seemed disinclined to do so Ben patted him on the arm with a nod and a gentle frown. “Go ahead.”
Hoss made a halfhearted attempt at eating, but it was obvious that his heart wasn’t in it.
Ben looked back toward the parlor where Joe had blown out. He knew he was tormenting himself and his sons, but he couldn’t give up, not yet.
bcbcbcb
Joe stood with his door cracked and watched as his father went to Adam’s room and stuck his head inside. “Good night, son,” he said then went on to his own room and closed the door. Hoss came out into the hall, his nightshirt flapping, and went to Joe’s room. His little brother came out to stand with him.
“It’s been the same thing every night since Adam left,” Joe whispered. “He’s pokes his head in there and says good night just like he did when we were children. Hoss, he’s gonna lose his mind if he doesn’t stop that. Sometimes he acts like he doesn’t know Adam’s gone.”
“He knows, he don’t want to, but he does. You know how when you was a kid you thought
that if you said or did somethin’ long enough it’d happen. Well, I think that’s how it is with
“Ah, come on,
“Joe, when you love somebody bad enough and hard enough you can make yourself believe almost anything. And one thing we’ve never doubted about our pa is how hard he loves us.”
“Yeah,” Joe said evenly, “you’re right about that. I just wish…” The air rushed in past his teeth.
“I know, little brother, I know,” Hoss said as he squeezed Joe’s shoulder. “Now we’d best be gittin’ on to bed. We’ve got a lot o’ work that needs gittin’ at tomorrow.”
“All right,” Joe said glumly.
They said their good nights then went back into their rooms and closed their doors. But after several seconds Joe stuck his head out and looked toward his oldest brother’s room. “Good night, Adam,” he said softly then went back in.
SEPTEMBER
A chilled wind whistled in the trees and brought thoughts of winter, which generally came earlier to the Sierras than the date on a calendar. Ashy clouds drifted overhead and the sky was more gray than blue. The sun appeared to have gone into hibernation for the duration of the season. A misty rain, the kind that could freeze a man clear down into his bones, filled the air, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from his job on a working ranch like the Ponderosa.
Life for Ben and his sons had gradually moved back toward normal, though it could never be that again. It had been just over four months since the beginning of the ordeal that had shredded all their lives. The fact that Adam was gone had become a part of the everyday, much as a deep wound that never quite heals and stays sore and raw beneath the surface.
Ben, Hoss and Joe were readying their horses to ride out to check on the cattle that had been brought down from the high pastures. They would’ve rather stayed home by the warm fire, but it was a necessary evil and it had to be done before the snow flew.
As his father and brother were finishing up, Hoss stepped over by the open door to get a canteen. His had been lost in the underbrush two days back, and he hadn’t replaced it yet. As he took one down from a peg he watched as a horse walked into the yard. He couldn’t see the man’s face, but something about him struck Hoss as familiar and at the same time not. “Pa, Joe, come here a minute,” he said over his shoulder without looking away. “Somebody just rode in.”
As Ben and Joe came to stand with him as the man stepped to the ground and tied the big dun to the hitch rail in front of the house. He was tall and lanky and his fairly long black hair fell over the top of the upturned collar of his light gray coat. His dark hat was pulled low in front and obscured most of his face. Something about the way he moved made looks pass between them as he started around past the porch. They watched as he opened the front door and went inside without hesitation.
With another look they rushed for the house. They couldn’t understand why a stranger would walk right into their home.
As the door opened back and they got inside, guns drawn, they became aware of a steady tirade of excited Chinese flowing from the kitchen. Another look was exchanged and as they looked around the man came out into the parlor.
Breaths were held and guns lowered. No one moved and only the ticking of the click permeated the room.
Ben stepped forward as he automatically put his gun back in its holster. His shoulders began to tremble first then the rest of his body followed suit. His hand visibly shook as he touched the man’s arm. “Adam?”
“Hi,
Ben’s heart leapt, he hadn’t thought to hear that deep baritone again. He couldn’t believe what was happening. “Son.” He flung his arms around his boy and hugged him hard, and he wasn’t mistaken when he thought he felt Adam lean into it. What his son had endured through the time he was away Ben didn’t know and by his very nature Adam would probably never speak of. But if he didn’t Ben couldn’t care less. Adam was home.
After giving their father time to greet their wayfaring brother, Joe and Hoss were all over him.
Joe forgot all about wanting to punch him in the face as he threw his arms around him. He had Adam back, and that was all he cared about. He could feel the lithe, sinewy body and detected a slight quivering just beneath the surface. His brother had lost more weight and no doubt that and what he felt were signs of what he’d been through. “Welcome home, Adam,” Joe whispered in his ear and gave him a slap on the back.
Now it was Hoss’ turn, and he wasn’t as gentle as his father and little brother had been. His massive arms enfolded Adam and threatened to squeeze the life out of him. Hoss heard him gasp, but he never said a word. He loosened his hold, but didn’t completely let go. If he had his way he would never let go again. “It’s good havin’ you home, big brother.”
“It’s good being home,” Adam said tiredly.
“Hop Sing! We need some food!” Ben shouted. “I have no doubt there’s a hungry man out here!”
“Come light up!” fired back from the kitchen.
Ben reveled in having his three sons around him once again. He sat at the head of the table and watched as his oldest wolfed down a breakfast that could feed three men. Hoss and Joe continually fired questions at him about where he’d been, what he’d been doing and who he’d been with, but Adam was too busy to answer.
Ben watched with the deepest satisfaction he’d ever known. For now he was being ignored, but he didn’t care, his son was home and that was all that mattered.
THE END