A Shot in the Darkness
by
Janice Sagraves

ONE

Hoss Cartwright finished locking up for the night and drug himself upstairs to bed. It had been a long two and a half weeks culminating in this one long day, in fact, it had been a long two months. Sometimes it was hard to believe that it had been that long since Reagan Miller had walked out of his life for good. It had left an open wound that festered and ached and refused to heal. An open wound that being around Adam only seemed to foster.

He sat down in the chair in his room and started taking off his boots and socks. A deep sigh ran through him and brought with it the anguish that he’d been fighting against since that day he’d seen his brother kissing the woman he intended to marry. His large hands tightened into fists as he thought about it and the memory gripped his heart.

Deftly his fingers undid the buttons of his shirt as the image of his beautiful Reagan stood before his weary blue eyes. She was wearing the same stunning red and black outfit she’d worn that day she had boarded the stagecoach headed out of Virginia City. The day he mistakenly thought he could forgive Adam for what had happened.

He stood and removed the garment and hung it over the back of the chair. Next he unbuckled his belt then began unfastening the buttons on his britches. Adam had been staying in town since the incident in the bunkhouse when Hoss had confronted him about it. He understood that – in his rage – he could have seriously injured or even killed his brother, and he was glad he hadn’t.

He hung them with the shirt then went to the dresser across the room and got a nightshirt. He and Adam had watched the coach pull out and drive away together then he’d suggested they go home. As they walked down the street he’d hesitantly put an arm across his older brother’s shoulders. He’d tried to convince himself then that he’d forgiven Adam, but since then he’d realized that he hadn’t. And at some point he understood that maybe he never would.

The large nightshirt slipped easily over his head, and his arms slid into the sleeves as they had so many times before. The relationship between him and his brother had become strained, though he had seen daily Adam’s attempts at reconciliation. Hoss, however, just couldn’t feel the same toward him as he once had. With Adam’s betrayal everything in the past had been brushed away to be replaced by mistrust and bitterness. He didn’t hate Adam, but he felt he could never love him again as he once had.

He turned back the covers then blew out the lamp and climbed into bed. As he settled into the soft mattress and pillow he doubted that he would sleep very well. He hadn’t since the whole sad affair and there was no reason tonight should be any different. Only this time there was the added concern of the ranch payroll in Pa’s safe downstairs in his study and the addition of someone going around breaking into houses and businesses in town and the countryside and stealing. He looked over to the pistol on the bed table as the gray moonlight glinted on the cold metal. If this person was stupid enough to break into this house tonight he could very likely find himself shot for his trouble.

With a ragged sigh he turned onto his side and stared at the wall. He saw his Reagan once again as tears filmed his eyes.

<C>

Adam Cartwright walked into the yard lugging his saddle, bridle and breast collar on his back. The horse he’d been riding had fallen and broken a leg, and he’d had to shoot it. This had put him afoot, and he’d been walking for what seemed like days though it had only been a few hours. He couldn’t be sure of the time, but it was definitely late.

He’d been in Carson City for the past three weeks trying to iron out a timber deal. Negotiations had been long and hard and not expected to end as soon as they had. However, when Scott Peters had backed out he’d left the door wide open, and Adam had taken advantage of it. So here he was home earlier than anyone expected, including him.

The house was dark as he thought it would be. His father and brothers and Hop Sing were on a cattle drive to Sacramento, and he didn’t expect them back yet.

Since there was a full moon he had no problem seeing where he was going. He thought about putting his gear in the barn but he was so dead beat he decided to just leave it on the porch for tonight. He could take care of it in the morning after breakfast.

He wasn’t trying to be quiet, there was no need since there wasn’t anyone to disturb. Everything got dropped on the porch behind the table with a loud thud.

Hoss’ eyes flashed open, and he listened intently. He’d heard something, he knew he had. His hand went for the pistol on the table, and his ears stayed on the alert as he fought to keep his breathing from drowning anything out.

Adam took the small knife from his britches pocket and opened it. Everything was locked up tight as a drum, and he didn’t have a key to the front door so he would just jimmy open the window in Pa’s study. He could go in through the kitchen, but he was so dragged out he didn’t want to fool making the walk. The blade slipped easily between the frames, and he caught the latch on the first try. With a single push it was open. He closed the knife and returned it to its usual place then put his hands on the ledge and hoisted himself up. Swinging his legs through first his feet clomped onto the top of the book case. As he did his toe hit a small porcelain dish that had belonged to Marie and it hit the floor with a shattering crash. “Shoot,” he grumbled under his breath.

There was no doubt about it now – someone was definitely in the house. Hoss came down the hall with the pistol, his bare feet lightly patting the floor. As he got to the head of the stairs he caught sight of a moving shape at the study window in the faint light that peeked through. “Hold it right there,” he bellowed.

Startled, Adam whirled and lost his balance. As he pitched forward his hands went down in an effort to catch.

He was going for his gun, Hoss could see that much. He hated to have to shoot anyone but it had come down to him or the intruder. Without hesitation his finger tightened on the trigger and the pistol barked in the darkness.

Adam had just opened his mouth to say something when he felt the bullet enter his body and the shock and accompanying pain elicited a gasp. His arms went limp along with the rest of him, and he continued to fall. He wasn’t capable of trying to keep from it and didn’t even make the attempt as he crumpled to the floor. The hardwood planks came up to greet him abruptly and the resultant sudden stop knocked the breath from him, and he passed out.

Hoss came cautiously down the stairs, his eyes directed to the study and his gun still ready. His feet thumped the hardwood now that he didn’t have to be quiet. As he came around the back of the desk he could make out the figure on the floor, and he didn’t seem to be moving. He kicked one of the man’s feet and it moved from the touch and not of its own volition.

“Well, I might as well see if’n you’re gonna need the doctor or an undertaker.” He lit the lamp on the desk and its warm ambience filled the small area at the front of the parlor. Lifting it and bringing it over, the light fell onto the long, black clad legs, and Hoss felt a quick rush of air enter his lungs. He got down onto his knees next to the unconscious man, who was partly on his side with one arm over his face. Lightly, Hoss pushed him onto his back, and the arm came away and flopped out to his side. Hoss felt like he’d been punched hard in the gut.

“Adam,” he said softly as he reached out and gingerly touched him. “Adam.” Still he got no response, and he brought the lamp closer. Now he could see plainly the blood swelling on the front of the yellow coat. It made him sick to his stomach, but he didn’t have time for such foolishness. For all he knew Adam could be dying right there in front of him, and he had to act fast. Sitting the lamp back on the desk he pushed himself away from the floor. With speed not uncommon to him when the necessity arose he rushed outside and headed for the bunkhouse.

Payton Connors, known to his friends as Pay, had returned to the ranch with Hoss as Ben Cartwright had asked him to. The big man had come on a day ahead of the others and was going to pick up the payroll at the bank in town, and his father hadn’t wanted him traveling alone with that much money. Now he was the only one in the bunkhouse trying to recover from a hard day.

Pay lit a lamp and stumbled in its preceding light to the door to answer the persistent pounding. When he opened it back he got a shock to see Hoss standing there wearing a nightshirt and in bare feet. It didn’t take a genius, even a half asleep one, to see that something was decidedly wrong.

“Hoss, you look like you just seen a haint. What’s wrong?”

“Pay, I need for you to go into town an’ git Doc Martin.”

“This late?” His chocolate eyes darted toward the house, and he ruffled his hair. “What’s happened? I thought I heard a shot.”

“I ain’t got time to talk about it. Now you just git goin’ an ‘tell ‘im Adam’s been shot.”

“Adam shot? But I thought…”

“They ain’t time!” Then Hoss turned and rushed for the house.

Once back inside Hoss went straight to his brother and gathered him into his arms and started upstairs. He took him to his room and put him on the bed then lit the lamp on the little writing desk and turned it up. First he removed the coat then undid the black shirt and opened it back to see what damage he’d done. There was a hole in Adam’s shoulder and a lot of blood, an awful lot. He checked to see if there was an exit wound and there wasn’t, so the bullet was still in there and would have to come out.

Hoss didn’t waste time. He got the wash basin and pitcher from the stand by the door and brought over to the bed table then rushed down to the kitchen for some towels. When he returned he filled the bowl with water and sat on the side of the bed. Wetting one of the cloths, he started washing away some of the red from his brother’s chest. “You ain’t hurt that bad, so why don’t ya go on and wake up?”

Adam was still as a man already dead and only his breathing made it apparent that he wasn’t. Hoss rewet the towel in the bloody water and washed around the wound, and his touch was instinctively gentle. His hands went perfectly motionless, and he looked to the peaceful face. There was a knot in his stomach and anger in the back of his brain. This was all Adam’s fault, just like every bad thing that had happened to him since that day at the Miller’s. Why was he climbing in through a window in the dead of night? It was almost like he’d wanted Hoss to shoot him to make his life even more miserable than it already was. “You done it to me again,” he said harshly. “Why do you wantta ruin my life? Ain’t Reagan enough?”

He pressed the cloth against the wound, and Adam moaned unconsciously. Then he couldn’t stand to look at what he’d done anymore, and he went to the window and peered out into the moonlit dark. After this he couldn’t stay on the Ponderosa, especially if Adam died.

TWO

It was not quite ten in the morning when Ben and Joe Cartwright and Hop Sing came into the yard with the rest of the hands. Ben had pushed a little hard since he’d been eager to get home, and the closer he got the more his eagerness grew. Since the trouble with his two oldest sons concerning that Miller woman he tried to stay close to them, especially Hoss. As long as he’d known them nothing had ever come up that had driven such a wedge between them, and it worried him. Adam continually tried to get through to Hoss but nothing seemed to work. His eldest had even talked to him about it, and he’d read the frustration and sorrow in the dark hazel eyes and rich baritone. Adam felt guilt over the whole unfortunate affair and blamed himself. “I shouldn’t’ve interfered, Pa. Hoss isn’t a child.” It grieved a father profoundly to think that they would never be close again because of this. Adam was trying, but his brother wouldn’t meet him half way, and Ben understood why. He’d never seen Hoss fall as hard for any woman as he had Reagan Miller and to find her kissing his brother had shaken his faith in that brother. If he had stayed and seen the whole thing and heard what was said he would have known that it wasn’t Adam’s doing. Hoss – from what he had told his father – had ridden away at seeing her in his brother’s arms and not waited for anything else. He, however, believed Adam when he said that she had kissed him, but Hoss didn’t and it was tearing them apart.

As they came up in front of the house, however, their elation quickly died as they saw Paul Martin’s buggy. They knew he wasn’t there for socializing.

“Hoss,” Ben said as he dismounted and rushed for the door, his youngest son right with him.

“Maybe not,” Joe said as he pointed toward the porch.

Adam’s gear was where he’d dropped it the night before, and the study window was still wide open. Ben went cold inside. Something had happened to one of his son’s and no one had to tell him it was bad; a father knew.

They rushed into the house, Hop Sing close behind. The parlor and dining room were devoid of human life, even the fireplace was cold.

Ben’s fear-laced coffee eyes went to the ceiling. “Hoss!” he shouted. “Adam!”

As they started forward Hoss appeared at the top of the stairs – now fully dressed – then started down. His steps drug, and he moved like a man bogged down in thick molasses, but he stopped on the landing.

“Adam?” Ben said barely above a whisper.

Hoss’ mouth drew in at the corners, and he nodded, unable to look his father in the face. “You’d best come on up, Pa.”

Ben’s heart sank, and he bounded up the stairs behind Hoss and followed him down the hall. He froze in the doorway to his eldest son’s bedroom. Adam was lying on the bed so that it made Ben wonder if he was alive. His shirt had been removed and his right shoulder bandaged. Paul Martin was putting his implements into the black leather bag as they came into the room. Ben and Joe stepped to the footboard while Hop Sing stayed by the door.

“Paul, how is he?” Ben asked, his eyes never leaving his son.

“The bullet was deep enough to cause quite a bit of bleeding, but I was able to get it out without much trouble,” Paul said as he turned around. “We were lucky that it didn’t do more damage. What we need to be on the watch for now is fever and infection.” He closed the bag and came to stand by Ben. “You know, if he hadn’t been falling he probably would’ve been hit in the chest and possibly killed outright.”

“Falling?” Joe blurted.

“What do you mean, Paul?” Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Why was he falling?”

“You’ll need to ask Hoss about that, and I need to get back to town. Augusta Cambridge has pneumonia and at seventy-three I’d like to stay close to her as much as I can.” His blue-gray eyes shot back to Adam. “Keep him warm and get plenty of liquids into him to help replace the blood loss. I left some medicine for the pain and to help him sleep. I’ll try to get back out tonight to check on him.” He put a reassuring hand on Ben’s shoulder. “He’s strong and he’s healthy, and he has the best medicine in the world, the love and support of his family.” With a last look back at his patient he started out.

“I show you out, Doctah Paul.”

“Thank you, Hop Sing.”

Ben stood perfectly still watching his son breath. For the moment he was lost to those around him as Adam became the center of his attention. If he wasn’t injured so terribly bad then why was he so unmoving? Then the doctor’s words broke in, and he turned to his middle son. “Hoss, what did Paul mean, he was falling? What happened? Who shot him?”

Hoss stood like a stone sculpture, his hands wadded at his sides. “I did, Pa. I shot ‘im.”

<C>

The revelation of three hours ago that Hoss had shot his own brother and – worst of all – had shown no regret shook Ben. Joe had mentioned it to his father, and he knew that it had disturbed his youngest son as well. Hoss was a big, gentle man who never liked harming anyone, but now he seemed to take pleasure in hurting the one who had hurt him so grievously. This was a side of his second born that had manifested itself only once or twice since he was a child, but never against a member of his family, and it frightened Ben. It also angered him to the point where he wanted to shake Hoss until his teeth rattled.

Ben came into Adam’s room with a bowl of Hop Sing’s famous egg drop soup which his oldest son loved and had since he was a boy. Adam had come to not long after the doctor’s leaving and had admitted to being a little hungry.

“How are you feeling, son,” he asked brightly as he came toward the bed with the tray.

“Not so bad,” Adam said weakly. “I’ve had worse.” He began trying to push himself up in with one arm.

Ben hurried to deposit the dinner things on the bed table. “No,” he scolded, “let me help you.”

“Pa, I can do it. I’m not a…”

“There you go again, overestimating what you’re up to. Now here,” and he took his son’s good arm and helped him to sit up as he put both pillows behind him. Ben placed the tray on his lap then sat on the edge of the bed.

Adam grinned tiredly and his weary hazel eyes locked onto his father’s resolute face. It wasn’t that he hadn’t argued with him before and wouldn’t in the future, it was just that right now he didn’t really feel like it. A quick, searing pang shot through his shoulder, and he gritted his teeth and tried to keep it from the man sitting next to him.

“Hurt, son?”

“Not so…”

“I know, not so bad. When’re you boy’s going to learn that there’s not a whole lot you can keep from your father?”

“You don’t mind if we keep trying, do you?”

“Not if it’ll amuse you.”

Adam’s grin broadened, but didn’t quite reach his eyes, then disappeared altogether. “Where’s Hoss?” With his left hand he dipped the spoon into the hot soup then scraped the bottom of it over the edge of the bowl to remove the excess. It was hot and delicious and seemed to ease some of the ache.

“He’s downstairs with Joe.”

“Pa, what happened was my fault. I shouldn’t’ve been coming through the window in the dead of night, what with all the robberies that have been going on.”

“That’s what he said.”

This came as a slap in Adam’s face. Normally, Hoss would have tried to shoulder the blame, but things weren’t normal anymore. He was beginning to believe that his brother’s forgiveness was an unattainable goal. “I see. Well, he’s right, of course.”

“Adam, you had no way of knowing that Hoss had come on ahead of us. For all you knew, none of us would be home for another week, and we certainly didn’t know you would get back yet.”

“I know, but…”

“No, this isn’t your fault anymore than it’s your brother’s. It was an accident, pure and simple. You thought the house was empty, and he thought somebody was breaking in to steal. It wasn’t planned that way it just happened. I’m only thankful you weren’t killed and Hoss doesn’t have to live it.”

Adam looked at him for several seconds then his eyes lowered to the bowl. “Do you think he’d care?”

Now it was Ben’s turn to feel slapped. Adam believed – honestly believed – that Hoss wouldn’t have been sorry if he’d killed him. “Yes, I do. Once he saw what he’d done.”

“I don’t think he’d deliberately shoot me, but I can’t help wondering if he regrets that it happened or the possible outcome.”

Ben’s attention became more focused on him. What it must be like to think that one’s own flesh and blood hated you to the point where they didn’t care if you lived or died. Ben doubted that was the case, but Adam didn’t, and he could see it in his son’s melancholy eyes. He lightly touched his son’s hand for reassurance, and he got a wink and a slanted smile in return. It hurt him so to see his sons torn up over something that should be laid to rest and put in the past. “Finish your soup.”

<C>

“You seem to’ve lost sight of some things,” Joe stormed as he stomped around the low table.

“An’ what’s that, Joe?” Hoss asked as he continued to stare into the lifeless grate.

“That this is Adam.”

“I know who it is.”

“Do you? Well, let me refresh your memory on a few things. Who played with you and shared a bed with you when you were growing up? Who was there when you fell, when you cried and laughed when Pa couldn’t be? Who shared the special times with you? Who was holding you when your mother died?”

Stark, cold blue eyes flashed around. “Joe, don’t.”

“Or you’ll what? Shoot me too? Hoss,” he reached out and firmly took his brother’s arm, “he was only trying to keep you from making a mistake. He knew Reagan Miller for what she is, and he didn’t want you caught up in it. She kissed him. No man had ever been able to resist her when she kissed them, but Adam did because he was thinking of you.”

“And you believe that?”

“Yes, and you do too, only you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“Then why didn’t he fight back when I started in on ‘im in the bunkhouse?”

“Ah, Hoss, use your head. Adam’s never raised his hand to either one of us.”

“Oh, an’ he never pushed you?”

“Pushed yes, but he’s never hit me, not in anger, and goodness knows he’s had reason to, but he’s Adam.”

Hoss’ glare narrowed on him. “So that’s how it is. You done took his side.”

“I haven’t taken anybody’s side, but I can see that you’re tearing this family apart because of the way you feel about this woman.”

“Her name’s Reagan.”

“I know what it is; we all do because you won’t let us forget it.” Joe’s demeanor softened and one corner of his mouth turned. “Now why don’t you go on up and be with your brother?”

“I’m with the only brother I got. Now I havta to go outside an’ take care o’ some things in the barn.”

“Hoss…”

“Ah, Joe, lemme alone,” he said as he gave his brother a shove and started out.

Joe stumbled back against the hearth and was just able to right himself as the front door slammed. He’d never seen a time when he couldn’t get through to Hoss, until now. His brother had been so mesmerized and captivated by this woman that he couldn’t see much else. “Oh, Hoss,” he said as he ruffled his unruly dark brown hair. He turned and started for the stairs, he had another brother who needed him.

<C>

It was late when Hoss finally decided to turn in, or at least try. He’d stayed out of and away from the house most of the day, only coming in to eat and picked at that. As he reached his bedroom his eyes involuntarily strayed toward Adam’s room. The door had been left ajar so that their father could hear easier if he should need anything through the night. Hoss wanted to go look in on him but he just couldn’t make himself do it. Any feeling between them was lost and things could never be the same again after what Adam had done. That night of their engagement party Reagan had told him that her love would destroy him, but he hadn’t believed her. He’d always heard that love made one strong, and he knew that with her as Mrs. Erik Cartwright, life couldn’t get any better. No, he didn’t blame her; he blamed Adam and knew he always would. Handsome and charming, his poor Reagan had fallen under his spell. “I just cain’t trust you no more,” he said softly then went into his bedroom and closed the door.

THREE

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as Hoss swung the saddle onto Chubb’s back. He’d packed enough provisions to last him for a while, and he had his bedroll and an axe. He hadn’t told anyone he was leaving yet and wasn’t sure he was going to. They had Adam to make over so they didn’t need him. It had been decided that he would ride out to Hoss Heaven and spend a few days while he made up his mind what he wanted to do next. It was beautiful and serene out there and just the balm his soul called out for right now.

“Where’re you headed so early?” Joe asked as he came in behind his brother.

“It don’t much matter just so’s it’s away from here,” Hoss said as he tightened the cinch.

“Well, you don’t have to leave because of what happened. Adam knows it was an accident.”

“Maybe he does, but I just cain’t stay around ‘im no more, cause maybe next time it wouldn’t be.”

“Don’t talk like that, Hoss. You couldn’t anymore shoot Adam deliberately than me or Pa could. In spite of what happened with Reagan Miller, he is still your brother.”

“I told you about that yesterday, Joe,” he said as he whirled on his little brother, black dominating his usually placid eyes. “He ain’t no brother o’ mine, if he was he wouldn’t o’ knifed me in the back like he done.”

Now Joe’s temper slipped. “You know, you can be just as rock headed stubborn as he is when you want to. How many times does a person have to tell you a thing before you’ll believe it? Adam went out to the Miller place to see Miss Amelia about some legal matter. He was leaving when Reagan asked if she could talk to him, and he saw no harm in it. He’d been in San Francisco and heard about her, and he knew she’d do the same thing with you. Did you hear about the man that killed himself because of her?”

“That’s enough, Joe,” Hoss growled.

“No it isn’t, and it won’t be ‘til you come to your senses and listen to reason.”

“I’ve heard all I’m gonna hear, now git outta my way,” he said as he pushed Joe back and led Chubb outside.

Joe wasn’t finished though and followed him. “No, you haven’t, you’re gonna hear the rest of it whether you want to or not. She wasn’t any good for you. What you fell in love with was what Miss Amelia made ‘er.”

“Stop it, Joe.”

“She uses men like handkerchiefs and when they’re dirty and torn she throws ‘em away.”

“I said stop it,” he snarled through gritted teeth as he grabbed the lapel of Joe’s jacket and raised a fist.

“Go on and hit me, kill me if you think it’ll make you feel better.”

Hoss froze as he realized what he was about to do, and his arm dropped as he released his brother. “I’m sorry, Joe. You ain’t done nothin’.”

“And all Adam did was try to look after his brother, like he always has with both of us. Hoss,” Joe took hold of his arm, “go back in the house and just be with him. You don’t have to talk to him, you don’t have to do anything except be with him.”

Hoss looked at him long and hard for several seconds then pulled loose from Joe’s grasp and climbed into the saddle. He gave the big Morgan a kick and headed out past the barn at a brisk trot, leaving his frustrated and befuddled little brother to watch him go.

<C>

It was just shy of eight-thirty when Hoss rode into the fertile valley he’d dubbed Hoss Heaven. It had been his favorite spot on the Ponderosa since he was no more than seven. His father had ceded it over to his middle son when the boy had turned sixteen. A small stream trickled and splashed over rocks and meandered its way along the entire length of it and beyond. From a myriad of trees birdsong floated up to the pure blue sky to embrace the cottony clouds. Long summer evenings and fragrant spring days would find him here when he was troubled or just needed to think or get away from the rigorous routine of a working ranch. Autumn dressed it in gold and crimson and umber and filled it with spicy smells and winter wrapped it in a frosty white blanket that glistened in the crisp air like trillions of faceted diamonds.

The big Morgan made his way past a stand of poplars and went to the edge of the stream. As his rider dismounted the horse lowered his head and began to drink. Hoss stretched his tired, stiff arms and looked around him at the untouched beauty that surrounded him. This was where he’d always hoped to build a house for him and a wife and raise a family. He’d thought that Reagan would be that wife until Adam had interfered and spoiled it all.

He crouched and filled his cupped hand with icy, clear water and followed his horse’s lead. It washed the grit from his mouth and throat and refreshed his saddle weary body. Taking his hat off, he riffled his fingers in his thinning, baby fine brown hair to cool his sweaty scalp.

As he stood he let his eyes roam around him searching for a sight for his camp. Once settled he would go fishing and see if he could catch his supper. There was nothing like fish fried over an open fire with hot coffee and some of Hop Sing’s biscuits.

“Well, Chubb, looks like we’re gonna be here for a spell ‘til we decide where it is we wantta go,” he said as he gave the black a pat on the neck.

He walked up from the bank to where a tree had fallen near a pile of several large rocks and decided that this would be his campsite. First, though, he would get Chubb unsaddled and taken care of and let him crop the green grass, then he would go about making a shelter. This time of year summer rains could put in an appearance at anytime, and he didn’t want to get caught out in the open should one come.

“All right, son, let’s git you took care of an’ then ol’ Hoss can take o’ hisself.” He took hold of the animal’s bit and led him to the rocks and began removing his gear.

There would be plenty of time before dinner to start on a lean-to after his horse was taken care of. He was looking forward to spending some time here with no other company except Chubb and what wild animals and birds decided to pay him a call. It was good to get away from the house and try to put some distance between him and the last two months. He missed Pa and Joe and Hop Sing already, and he knew it would only get worse, but he just couldn’t go back. He couldn’t go back as long as Adam was there.

<C>

A dull throbbing had settled behind the dark hazel eyes and threatened to take root in the rest of his head. Pain had firmly ensconced itself in his shoulder and worked its way down his backbone and into his hips. He wanted to get up, but he felt like if he did he’d make a fool of himself all over the floor. He could just see Pa and Joe struggling to get him back into bed or maybe diminutive Hop Sing. The side of his mouth turned at the image.

“How’re you doin’, brother?” Joe said cheerfully as he came into the room with a glass of milk and a sandwich. “You look better than you did this morning. I brought you something to eat.”

“I’m not real hungry, Joe, so you can have it.”

“I’ve already had my dinner, now it’s your turn.” He came to the side of the bed and sat the glass on the table then handed the plate to Adam. “Now, unless you want Hop Sing up here screaming at you in Chinese, you make a stab at it.”

Adam’s nose wrinkled as he eyed the chicken sandwich and glanced at Joe, who was watching his every move.

“You might as well, cause I’m not goin’ anywhere ‘til you do. I don’t wantta get swatted with a broom.”

“All right, if it’ll make you and Hop Sing happy.” It was painful to raise his arm even a little bit, but it was the only way. He tentatively took a bite, and it didn’t taste half bad so he took another.

Joe sat down on the foot of the bed, his constant gaze tight on him. He could see the pain his brother was in even though Adam was doing a pretty good job at hiding it. He also knew that the wound to his shoulder wasn’t the only thing hurting him. No one had to tell him that Hoss’ unforgiving attitude was doing as much harm as the bullet had, maybe even more.

“I guess you’re hungrier than you thought you were.”

Adam nodded as he washed down the bite. “Where’s Hoss?” His somber eyes rose to Joe’s face. “I haven’t heard his voice in the house today and you and Pa and Hop Sing have been unwilling to talk about him.” He lost interest in his food. “He left, didn’t he?”

“Adam, I don’t…”

“Where’d he go?”

“We don’t know, he wouldn’t tell anybody. I guess he just had to get away and think for a little while.”

“You mean he had to get away from me.” Adam slammed the remains of the sandwich onto the plate. “I finally drove him away.”

“Now you listen to me,” Joe said as he leaned forward and rested a hand on his brother’s leg, “you didn’t drive anybody away. Hoss made up his own mind to do this; you didn’t make ‘im go.”

“Didn’t I? If it weren’t for me he’d be home where he belongs, and I know that as well as I know my own name. There’s only one person who can be blamed for any of this and it’s me. Just like always, I had to meddle.”

“You didn’t want Hoss to wind up like all those other men. I don’t call it meddling when you’re watching after somebody you care about.”

“Since when? You’ve always called it that. Why should now be any different just because it’s Hoss and not you this time?” He couldn’t miss his little brother’s fallen expression, and he reached out to him. “Joe, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve…”

Joe jerked to his feet then bounded from the room, paying no attention to Adam calling after him.

Adam closed his eyes and rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead as he noticed that the ache had gotten worse. He had no reason for jumping onto Joe that way and it made him angry with himself. As for Hoss, he’d done what he had only out of concern for a brother, but it had blown up right in everyone’s face. “You’ve made a fine mess of everything.”

<C>

By the time the sun went down Hoss had a decent shelter built of poles and some extra blankets he’d brought from home. He wasn’t sure how water tight it was, but if it rained he’d certainly find out. He had a nice fire going against the chill of the night, and the fading scent of fried fish was all that remained of his evening meal. Ten trout and seven good-sized biscuits had barely sated his ravenous appetite, but it would have to do.

He poured more coffee into his tin cup and wrapped his hands around it as the steam rose into his face and its aroma filled his nose. Bedtime couldn’t come soon enough to suit him. It had been a long day, and he just wanted to see to Chubb, put out the fire so it couldn’t get out of control and turn in. Tomorrow he’d let the black out of the temporary rope corral to frolic like a spring colt if he wanted to while he looked around just to see what he could find. Maybe he could scrounge up some wild duck eggs for breakfast. He smacked his lips at the prospect and realized that he was still hungry. He took a slug of the hot, strong coffee and tried concentrating on something more pleasant than what had driven him from his home and his family.

He tried seeing beyond the rim of the fire’s glow into the darkness beyond but when he did he saw things he didn’t want to. His Reagan telling him that it wouldn’t work, Pa when he came in on his fighting sons, Joe in the parlor after he’d shot their brother, and the defiant look on Adam’s face the night he had confronted him in the bunkhouse.

He took one last drag from his coffee then threw the rest of it on the flames. There was a little left in the pot so he put that on it too and finished the job with dirt. Without the orangey glow the moonlight gave the trees a wraithlike appearance and formed shadows in dips and shallows that were like endless, black pools.

With a deep breath he stood and stretched his back and rubbed at the low kink. If he could have his way he’d just stay here for the rest of his life. He could build a little cabin near the trees and not far from the stream and the sound of running water could greet him when he awoke in the mornings. But it was too close to Adam and he could show up at any time and knowing him the way he did Hoss knew that he would. Then he gave a sigh of resignation, walked to his shelter and – parting the blankets – went inside.

FOUR

The next morning Adam was sitting on the side of the bed when his father came in. He felt hot and flushed all over, and he wished he hadn’t tried to get up. The headache was more intense than it had been the previous day and even his eyes throbbed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ben said as he rushed to him. “You lie right back down.” Taking his son’s left arm he helped him back into bed, and the minute he touched him he felt the growing heat. Adam’s face was red and misery dwelled there and in his eyes, and it made Ben’s heart turn. He filled the wash basin and dipped one of the cloths into the cool water and wrung it out. “You shouldn’t be trying to get up so soon.” He sat next to his son and began washing his face.

“Hoss, Pa, I need to go get Hoss and bring ‘im home where he belongs.”

“You need to stay right where you are, Hoss can take care of himself,” he said as he pushed the heavy black hair back from Adam’s forehead.

“No, Pa, I’m the reason he left, I’m the reason…”

“No, son, Hoss is the reason. Now I don’t want to hear anymore about it. You just lie there, and I’ll be right back.”

With a forced smile Adam nodded and closed his eyes.

Ben hurried out into the hall and started for the stairs; he wanted to find Joe as quickly as possible. As he reached the top landing he saw that his youngest was at the bureau by the front door buckling on his gun belt. “Joseph,” he said sternly as he started down.

Joe’s head snapped up, and he knew instantly from his father’s tone and expression that something was wrong. He only called Joe by his given name when it was serious. “Pa, what is it?” His troubled green eyes darted toward the upstairs. “What’s wrong?”

“Your brother’s sick, and he needs the doctor,” Ben said in a low voice as he came to him. “Send somebody into town for him.”

“I’ll go.”

“No, Joe,” and he gripped his son’s arm tightly, “I want you to go find Hoss. Find him and bring him back.”

“And what if he won’t come even if I do find ‘im?”

“He’ll come… or he isn’t my son.”

This struck Joe in the face like an iron hand – Pa was being forced to choose one son over another. “All right, Pa, he’ll come if I have to tie ‘im behind Cooch and drag ‘im.”

With a halfhearted smile Ben slapped him on the arm, and Joe dashed out. He stood in the doorway and watched his boy run to the bunkhouse. His sons were a joy and a blessing to him, and he loved each one dearly for who he was and what made him special in his own way. But each one had a trait, a characteristic, which tried a father: Joe’s temper, Adam’s stubbornness and Hoss’ gullibility. All three of them had a streak of mule headedness, especially his oldest, but until now he hadn’t realized that Hoss could be so unbending, and with his own brother, no less.

A deep breath ran through him and a sudden trepidation, and he turned and started back up to his son’s room.

<C>

After getting one of the hands to go into town for Paul Martin, Joe had saddled Cochise and ridden out quickly, the urgency and alarm in his father spurring him on. He had no idea how sick Adam was – he hadn’t asked, there hadn’t been time – but he knew from his father’s attitude there was cause for alarm. He didn’t know where Hoss had gone, and there were so many places he liked to go to be alone, but one stuck out in his mind, and he would look there first.

Cochise moved with the wind as if they were one. He and his rider were racing with time, though how much neither had any idea. Adam’s wound hadn’t been as bad as they’d at first thought, but Joe understood how even the slightest injury could lead to complications that could take a life.

Gray clouds moved in overhead, blotting out the sun and casting a pall over the once sunny morning. If it rained he could only hope it waited until he returned home with Hoss. But what if his brother wouldn’t go back with him? What if Hoss was still so angry that he didn’t care if their older brother died or not? No, he couldn’t make himself believe that and certainly not over a woman like Reagan Miller.

He kneed the wiry paint and urged him faster as he bent in the saddle and leaned close to the animal’s neck. His heart beat with the pounding of the horse’s hooves, and his mind raced from bad to worse.

It didn’t take Joe as long to ride to Hoss Heaven as it had his brother. The first thing he saw was the lean-to and the big black foraging on the sweet meadow grass. He’d guessed right and for that he was grateful. “Hoss!” he shouted as he sprung from the saddle, and his eyes darted around him. “Hoss!”

He ran to the shelter and parted the blankets and looked inside but no one was there. “Hoss!” he shouted again as panic rose in his voice.

“What is it, Joe? I don’t need wakin’ up.”

Joe turned as Hoss came down out of the trees with an armload of branches and small limbs, the axe clutched in one hand. “How’d you know I was here?” he asked as he dropped them by the circle of rocks that formed his fire pit.

“That doesn’t matter. Hoss, you havta to come back with me. Adam needs you.”

“Adam don’t need nobody, an’ least of all me. Now you can just go on back and tell ‘im…”

“Hoss, he’s sick.”

The blood drained from the big man’s face, and his eyes went black. “Sick? How sick?”

“I don’t know I haven’t seen ‘im yet this morning. Pa sent me, and he said for you to come back.”

“Nice try, Joe.” Hoss brushed past him as if he weren’t there. “Well, you can just tell your brother for me that it ain’t gonna work. If’n he wants to see me he can come on out here, but I don’t think it’d be such a good idea.”

“Hoss,” Joe started as he grabbed his brother’s arm, “I’m not trying to trick you. Adam is sick and Pa wants you home, so he sent me to come get you. Now are you coming or do I have to hit you in the head with a pistol butt and put you across your saddle?”

“Joe, I ain’t goin’ back, an’ that’s all there is to it. It ain’t like he’s never been sick before.”

“That’s right, he has been sick before, and I remember a time when he was so sick that we thought he was gonna die. Pa stayed up with ‘im all night and neither one of us slept a wink.”

Hoss tried walking away but Joe put himself right in front of him and wouldn’t let him pass.

“And then the next morning when we found out he wasn’t going to,” Joe went on, “do you remember what you said to ‘im? Welcome home, Adam. Did you mean that or did you say it just to make yourself feel good?”

“Joe, if’n you don’t git outta my way I’m gonna…”

“Hit me? Hoss, you’ve got to come back with me, Pa wants you there.”

“Well, you’re just gonna havta tell ‘im that I cain’t.”

“Why not? Don’t you think this thing with Reagan Miller has gone on long enough? Don’t you think Adam’s been punished enough for trying to help you?”

“His kind o’ help I don’t need. Now you can just go on back. It’ll be best if’n I ain’t there.”

“I told Pa that I’d bring you back no matter what it took.”

“Well, now you’re just gonna havta tell ‘im you couldn’t. So, you might as well git goin’.”

In a blink Joe’s pistol left its holster and pointed right at him.

“Joe, unless you plan on shootin’ me with that thing you might as well put it back.”

Joe could see plainly that nothing else he said or did would change his brother’s mind. He thrust his gun back and started to his horse then turned back on Hoss, fire dancing in his eyes. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day that I’d be ashamed that you’re my brother, but I was wrong because that day’s here, and if you wantta know something else, so is Pa.” He stomped to Cochise and vaulted into the saddle.

“Joe.”

“Are you comin’ back with me or aren’t you?”

“No, Joe, I cain’t.”

“Well, I hope you’ve got a good excuse, at least in your mind.” Then Joe wheeled the paint and rode off in a thunder of hooves.

“Yeah, Joe, I got one…. I shot ‘im.”

<C>

It had taken longer than expected for Paul to get out to the Ponderosa. He’d been out of town on a call when the man Joe sent arrived in Virginia City, and it was late afternoon when he finally got there.

As he examined his patient an anxious father and brother stood in the doorway silently watching. “Well, you definitely have a fever.”

“I could’ve told you that, Paul,” Adam said as he massaged the back of his neck.

“Neck hurt?”

“A little, but it’s more stiff than anything.”

“Have you taken any of the medicine I left?” Paul asked as he watched Adam dubiously.

“You know what that stuff does to me? I have some of the most gosh-awful nightmares and, anyway, the pain isn’t so bad.”

“I can see that,” Paul said sarcastically with a stern scowl. “Well, all I can tell you is to continue to get plenty of liquids and bed rest, and I’ll be back in the morning.”

“All right, Paul.”

Paul smiled and gave him a friendly pat on the arm then started toward the family.

Ben didn’t care for something he saw in the doctor’s eyes and it sent a biting chill through him. Whenever the doctor came for one of his sons he always feared the worst, and now that fear was here again.

“Joe, you stay with your brother while I see Paul out.”

“All right, Pa.”

Ben waited until they were started down the stairs before he asked the dreaded question. “How bad is it, Paul?”

“I’m afraid this may only the beginning of what could be a rough ride. I’ve seen it before with gunshot wounds, or any kind of wound, for that matter. Infection is setting in, although I can’t be sure of how serious of one. Just see that he stays warm and get some of that fever medicine I left into him if you can.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I will if I have to get somebody to sit on him.”

“Good,” the doctor said with a warm grin as they reached the front door. “Like I told him, I’ll be back in the morning, but if you need me before then…”

“I will, Paul, and thank you.”

“All right.” He took his friend’s arm in a firm, reassuring grip. “He’s strong, Ben, and he’s a Cartwright, and he has you and Joe and Hop Sing, and together we’ll do our best to get him through this.” With that Paul went out and the door closed behind him.

What Paul had said hadn’t been anymore jolting than his omission. He’d said that Adam had him, Joe and Hop Sing but he hadn’t mentioned Hoss, and Ben knew that word had gotten around about the tense relationship between his two oldest sons. He dropped his head and took a deep, sighing breath. His world and his family were falling apart. One son had left home and another was ill and hurt, and he knew could easily die. He hated the remembrance of the day that Hoss first met Reagan Miller, and if it were in his power to change it he would. But right now his main concern was Adam.

He trudged back up the staircase and tried not to think of the possible outcome of this whole mess, but it continued to nag at his brain. Two of his sons could be gone for good before this was over, and it was eating away at him. As he went down the hall he bucked himself up, he wanted to be hopeful for Adam.

FIVE

Hoss had never been more confused than he was right at that moment in time. Hunching over his campfire, he stared into the flickering flames and tried sorting things out. For two months he’d taken the greatest delight in saying the most hateful, cutting things to his older brother then watching as the hurt filled those dark hazel eyes. It had given him pleasure to see Adam’s despair and to revel in his futile attempts at reconciliation. That had all changed, however, with one clumsily placed bullet. At first, he’d put the blame squarely on Adam, refusing to let himself feel any anguish or remorse. All that had been felt had been for himself, and he hadn’t wasted anything on his brother. But after coming here and his little brother’s harsh words that day he’d begun to really think about it. Now, for the first time, he felt shame and regret for what he’d done. Knowing that his father and little were ashamed of him only strengthened those feelings.

Joe had also reminded him of some things that he’d let himself conveniently forget. Adam had been there with him throughout his life. They had shared good times and bad times and special times. “Who was holding you when your mother died?” Joe had asked.

“Adam,” Hoss said softly into the night. He interlocked his fingers and clamped his hands so tightly that the bones thought to burst the skin. Then for a fleeting second he saw his brother as he was tossed into the saddle stand in the bunkhouse. Until now he hadn’t let himself see the pain in Adam’s face and know that it hadn’t been entirely physical.

Reagan had told him that her love would destroy him, and now he was realizing that his love for her was destroying himself and his family. Because of it he’d made Adam suffer and pay for what he’d seen that day at the Miller house. He’d refused to accept that she had kissed him as so many people had tried telling him. They believed what Adam had told them and not the real truth. Now Hoss was seeing that it was the real truth and that Adam and Pa and Joe wouldn’t lie to him about such a thing. There was a saying, ‘better late than never’. He could only hope that it wasn’t too late.

<C>

Adam couldn’t go to sleep. When Pa had looked in on him earlier he’d let him think that he was. The fever was intensifying, and he’d become restless and agitated, not because of his illness but because he wanted his brother home. He’d heard Pa and Joe talking out in the hall about Hoss not wanting to come back and the mention of Hoss Heaven.

Quietly, he pushed himself up onto the side of the bed. His head spun like a top, and his fingers dug into the mattress to keep from pitching forward. Joe hadn’t been able to bring Hoss home so now it was up to him, but first he had to get out of the house and away without getting caught. Quietly as a bird walking on snow, he got dressed then moved to the door and eased it open. The hall was empty and Joe’s door was closed. Carefully, he slipped out and eased toward the stairs. It was a major effort to cover such a short distance but he couldn’t stop now. As he went stealthily down to the parlor his eyes took in everything around him, and his ears were tuned to every sound. By the time he reached the bottom he was thoroughly exhausted and wondered if the could make it to the door, let alone out to the barn. Then he thought about trying to saddle Sport and that would have elicited a groan if he weren’t trying to be quiet. He could hear movement in the kitchen and heard his father’s and Hop Sing’s voices. If he didn’t go now he’d most likely be caught so he forced his feet to follow one another. The big oak door opened and closed so silently that no one was aware that anyone had gone out.

Ten minutes later Ben came from the kitchen with a cup of coffee. He wanted to go back up to Adam’s room and sit with his son until Joe’s turn. By morning he guessed that the worst would be upon them and Adam would need constant looking after. He’d been sleeping so peacefully that Ben hadn’t felt guilty about coming down to the kitchen for some of Hop Sing’s wonderful coffee.

Once upstairs he went straight to his eldest’s room and had just taken hold of the knob when Joe came out into the hall.

“Pa,” he said softly as he came to his father, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about Hoss, and I think I should go back after him in the morning. With Adam sick he should be here.”

“I know that, son, but if he doesn’t want to be here there’s really nothing you can do about it. He is a grown man.”

Joe snorted scornfully. “A grown man, he isn’t acting like one, and he hasn’t since this whole thing started. After she left Adam tried so hard, and I hated watching it. Sometimes I got the idea that Hoss liked hurting ‘im that way. I could see it in his face.”

“I know I saw the same thing. I tried talking to him.”

“So did I, but he wouldn’t listen to a word I said.” Joe shook his head and a dangerous light sparked in his eyes. “I don’t understand ‘im anymore. This just isn’t like Hoss. He and Adam have always been so close, but now it’s almost like they aren’t even brothers and it bothers me.”

“It bothers me too, but I can only hope that they can work out in time.”

“Yeah,” Joe aid glumly, “if time hasn’t run out.” He glanced at the cup. “It’s gonna be a long night, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Joe, I’m afraid it is, but I’m also afraid they’re going to only get longer. Now why don’t you try to get some sleep? You’ll need the rest for your turn with him.”

“All right, Pa, but I don’t guarantee anything other than I’ll try.”

“That’s all any of us can do, try.”

Joe smiled and gave his father’s shoulder a comforting squeeze then went back into his room and closed the door. Ben’s lips turned up, and he shook his head, such son’s he had, but then he thought of Hoss and sadness drew his mouth into a straight line. He turned the knob then went in and decided to leave the door open while he lit the lamp, but as his eyes came to the bed his heart nearly stopped. The cup and saucer hit the floor and shattered on impact, and a brown pool covered the floor. “Joe!”

<C>

Each time Sport’s feet struck the ground it sent waves of pure agony through Adam’s shoulder that traveled to all the parts of him. One hand had a firm grip on the reins and the other on the saddle horn, all he needed was to fall off and jar something loose. He had to get to Hoss and try to talk him into coming home where he belonged. When he was well enough, if it took his leaving to get Hoss to stay there with Pa and Joe then that’s what he would do. He’d been willing to do the same thing for his little brother once, and he would be willing to do it again.

He hadn’t brought his hat, coat or gun belt with him lest someone saw they were gone too soon and stopped him. He’d found an old work jacket in the barn and slipped into it. It was thin as paper though and afforded little protection from the night chill. A shiver was settling in, but he couldn’t let that make him turn around even though lucid thinking told him it was the wise thing to do. He had to get to Hoss and try to talk some sense into that mulish head of his. It wouldn’t be easy; he was, after all, a Cartwright.

Adam tried to laugh but it wasn’t much of an effort, he just didn’t have the energy. His body was drooping and his head had the notion to fall off. His fingers were beginning to loosen their hold as Sport continued his lope through the night.

The horse bounded over a dip, and as he came down on the other side Adam was jostled from the saddle. As he hit it sent shockwaves of the sheerest misery through him. It was so bad he wasn’t even sure he wanted to try to get up, but he tried anyway. He was only able to turn onto his back and stared into the ceaseless black void over him. He could feel the cold through his clothing as it began leaching the heat from his body, but he didn’t even feel like he could sit up. “I’m gonna lay out here and die,” he thought. When they finally found him he hoped Pa would forgive him. “I only wanted Hoss to come home,” he said softly then he released the heavy lids and let his eyes close.

<C>

Hoss had broke camp not long after darkness fell. He couldn’t be certain how long he’d been riding, but something was driving him back home, back to his family, back to Adam. He’d nearly thrown it all away for the love of a woman who didn’t love him in return. He didn’t know if he could ever completely forgive Adam, but he knew he had to try.

Chubb clopped on through the moonlight and the shadows it gave life to. The wind was beginning to pick up and he felt the hint of rain against his face and it filled his nostrils. He hoped he would get home before the clouds opened and spilled their contents on the earth below.

Suddenly, Chubb shied as he came close to running over something. Hoss soothed and patted him on the neck then stepped down. He could just barely make out the form of what he guessed to be human. As he crouched next to whoever it was he placed a hand on the man’s chest and found the he was still alive but very cold. “Hey, Mister,” he said softly. “Can you hear me?”

As he waited for an answer a chilled hand touched his cheek then a weak baritone rasped his name. Hoss’ heart jumped around inside his ribcage. “Adam.”

“Hoss…, you came.”

“Yeah, I came, an’ I gotcha.”

Hoss knew he had to hurry and get Adam back to the safety and warmth of the house. He went to his horse and undid the bedroll and proceeded to wrap his brother in it. Then he took his slicker and put on him just in case. “I gotta git you home so’s Pa can take care o’ you.” Working his arms under Adam’s knees and back he lifted him as if he were a baby and stood. “I’m sorry, Adam, this is all my doin’.”

He eased Adam onto Chubb’s back then climbed into the saddle and cradled his brother against his chest. Adam was still breathing but it was slow and heavy and Hoss feared that the cold from lying on the ground along with everything else would take him from his family. He nudged the horse into a walk and they started for home.

“You stay with me, now, you hear? Don’t you go an’ make me out to be the bigger fool ‘n I already am.” Hoss wished he could urge the horse faster but he figured Adam didn’t need the jolting. “All you need is for both of us to fall off an’ hit the ground.” He shifted his butt in the saddle and adjusted his hold around his brother. “I don’t wantta drop you. Pa’d like as not have my hide if’n you didn’t.” He laughed but there wasn’t any mirth behind it.

Chubb moved on as Hoss’ voice drifted through the still silence. The wind was continuing to increase and twist in the trees, and he hoped they made it back before the heavens opened up.

“You know, brother, Joe came to see me today, an’ he made me open my eyes to some things. You and Pa’re the ones that’s always been there for me. You never turned your back on me, and the first chance I git I do it to you. First I treat you like somethin’ lower ‘n dirt an’ make your life miserable then I go an’ shoot you.” He looked down at Adam’s face, pale and ghostly in the moonlight. “I don’t know why any of you’d want me to come back.” He could feel the emotions churning and clogging his throat and misting his eyes. “I guess it takes somethin’ like this to open a man’s eyes to what’s been starin’ ‘im in the face the whole time. Reagan just wasn’t the one I spose, but it was nice while is lasted.” He readjusted himself again. “Durn, Adam, but you’re a load, but I don’t mind. You’ve carried me for a long time, an’ now it’s my turn.”

Chubb moved on with his burden as the night deepened. Hoss’ mild voice continued to carry on a one-sided conversation as they drew closer to the big rough-hewn log house.

“It won’t be long, Adam. We’ll be home soon.”

SIX

Hop Sing bustled into the parlor at someone’s frantic pounding. “You keep shirt on.” As he opened the door the little cook gasped. Hoss was standing before him with Adam in his arms.

“Where’s Pa?” Hoss said as he came right in.

“He and Little Joe go with hands to find Mista Adam. Is he alive?”

“Yeah, Hop Sing, he’s alive. Now I want you to go git every hot water bottle you can find an’ fill ‘em an’ bring ‘em up to Adam’s room.”

“Yes, Mista Hoss.”

“An’ send somebody for Doc Martin.”

“Luke Judson only one here, but I go lickety split.”

As he rushed out the front door Hoss headed on upstairs. He went to Adam’s room and placed his brother delicately on the bed then lit the lamp.

“Now we gotta git you outta them clothes an’ into a nightshirt, an’ we gotta git you warmed up.” He took off his coat and hat and put them on the dresser. After he got the slicker and blanket off of him Hoss began undressing Adam. “You’ll be a whole lot more comfortable thisa way.”

By the time Hop Sing scurried in with a basket filled with the towel wrapped hot water bottles Adam had on the nightshirt and was resting comfortably. With little words between them Hoss and Hop Sing began tucking them in around him. The last on was placed on his stomach then the sheet and bedspread were brought over him. Hoss took the extra blanket from the foot of the bed and covered him with it.

“That should warm ‘im up good,” Hoss said as he stood back and looked over his work, all of it.

“I go get Mista Hoss cup of coffee, you need warming to.”

“Thank you, Hop Sing.”

As the little cook left the room Hoss brought the wing chair to the side of the bed and sat down heavily. After Joe had left him earlier that day the guilt had really started tightening its noose. He had been so incredibly hurt that he’d wanted to hurt back, and he did so without mercy. After that night in the bunkhouse he’d never physically struck Adam again, no, what he’d done was a thousand times worse. Wounds to the body would heal in time, but no amount of time could heal the ones to the mind and spirit. Visions of his brother coming to him in his vain attempts to recover what they’d once had filled his mind’s eye. He could still hear his own cruel, unforgiving words in that tone he could take on.

One particularly nasty scene returned to haunt him. It was right after supper on one of those cool summer evenings that delights the senses. He had gone outside to take in the pine-scented air and to watch the sun complete its descent below the horizon, but mainly to get away from his older brother. He hadn’t been standing there long when he heard the door open behind him. He found himself hoping it was Adam, even though he’d just left to get away from him.

“Nice evening,” the warm baritone had said as boots thumped against the wooden planks and came closer to Hoss.

But Hoss didn’t answer or even turn around. His frosty blue eyes stayed straight ahead as if he were still alone.

“Hop Sing outdid himself tonight,” Adam said as he came to stand next to the big man. “I don’t think he’s done better.”

Still Hoss hadn’t moved or even appeared to hear him, and then he felt the strong hand on his shoulder. He recalled stiffening at its touch.

“I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning, and I thought maybe you might like to come with me. Pa says he can spare you for…”

“I ain’t interested,” Hoss snapped without looking around.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been to…”

“I said I ain’t interested.”

“Hoss, this isn’t helping anything. How many times do I have to tell you how sorry I am that that happened?”

“You mean, that I seen it.”

“Yes, I’m sorry you saw it, and I’m sorry she kissed me. She said she wanted to talk to me, but I found she wanted something else.”

Hoss slapped his brother’s hand away and turned on him. “Don’t you say that, don’t you dare say that.”

“I only meant that she didn’t want me to tell you what I knew about her, and that was the only kind of persuasion she understood. It had worked so easily with other men.”

Hoss’s fists bunched into hard wads.

“I told her that I’d already decided not tell you,” Adam went on, “but only if she did…. Hoss, I knew she wouldn’t, I knew…”

“You didn’t know nothin’.”

“Hoss, this is no good. One or both of us could be dead tomorrow, and I don’t want it to end this way between us.”

Hoss’ eyes shut tight as his reply came back to him. “Well, I hope it’s you so’s I can bring flowers.” Then he’d watched with sadistic satisfaction as a wounded light filled the deep hazel eyes. The fine mouth had drawn into a tight knot the long, tapered fingers had clenched into fists. Hoss taken sincere enjoyment in seeing his brother being hurt the way he felt he’d been.

Adam hadn’t said anything else, simply nodded then went back into the house. He’d remained silent for the rest of the evening and ridden out for Carson City early the next morning. At breakfast – of which Adam had eaten very little – was the last time Hoss had seen him before the night he’d… shot him.

Hoss’ heart squeezed as he watched his brother breathing slowly and wondered if it would end between them having never been resolved. Leaning forward against his knees, he clasped his hands in front of him. “I’m sorry, Adam.” He fought against the tears that lurked behind his saddened eyes. “But I guess that’s comin’ a little late, ain’t it?”

All the sorrow and remorse in his world had rolled itself into a ball and dropped onto him. He’d lost his Reagan and now there was the very clear and present danger that he could lose his older brother. While she would be off living and hopefully enjoying her life somewhere, though, Adam would be gone. All that would be left would be the unkind memories of what Hoss had done, with all the good and warm ones killed in their wake.

Hop Sing padded in like his feet were feathers and went to Hoss. “Here your coffee, and I bring you sandwich too.”

“Thanks for the coffee,” Hoss said as he took the cup, “but I ain’t real hungry.”

“I know you wollied sick for Mista Adam, but it do him no good for you to go hungly. You only make youself sick and it not help him.” He thrust the plate with the food in front of him. “That not way to make wrong right. Mista Adam be first to tell you, but him not able so Hop Sing do it for him, now you eat.”

Hoss took it and the little man – with a last look at Adam and a shake of his head – went out. He’d no sooner gone, however, when Hoss lost interest and placed them on the table. He stood at the side of the bed and put a large, gentle hand against his brother’s face. As he’d feared, the fever was steadily building. Then he reached under the covers and found out that Adam had warmed up and wasn’t shivering any longer.

“Well, at least you ain’t freezin’,” he said as he dipped a cloth in the basin and wrung it out. As he washed the beads of sweat from Adam’s face he thought of Pa doing the same thing, and it brought a poignant smile. “Pa’ll be home before long an’ he can take over.”

As he rewet the cloth he heard his own name and turned to see that Adam was awake. “How you feelin’?”

“Like Hop Sing’s cook stove… at Christmas…. You’re back.”

“Yeah, brother, I’m back, an’ I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“You called me… brother.”

“Well, that’s what you are, ain’t ya?”

Adam barely nodded. “It’s just good… to hear you… say it again.”

“I’m glad you like it, cause that’s the way it’s gonna be from now on.” He sponged back the sweaty black hair. “Now don’t you go talkin’ so much, you need to git your rest so’s you can git your strength back.”

“Hoss.”

“Yeah.”

“Welcome home.”

“It’s good to be home. Now you do like I told ya an’ stop bein’ so talky.” He picked up the glass of water from the table and lifted his brother’s head and put it to his lips. “You drink some o’ this then I want you to go on back to sleep.”

Adam could only manage a couple sips then Hoss lowered his head and watched as the weary hazel eyes closed and the fans of thick black lashes rested on pale cheeks. Putting a hand against his brother’s forehead he felt his unease intensify, by morning the fever would be in full swing, if it waited that long.

Time drug by and the night progressed slowly as it always did when a life hung by a thread. Hoss was restless but wouldn’t leave the room or his brother for fear of what he would find when he returned. Right now everything in his life centered on and revolved around Adam.

He went to the window and parted the heavy dark green drapes and peered out into the seemingly endless night. The sound of soft drops pattered on the roof and against the window. Hoss loved the rain, but the thought of Adam lying sick in it unsettled him, and he was thankful he’d found him and gotten him home before it started. It had been almost four hours since then but it felt more like an eternity. He wished Pa and Joe would get back. No one had to tell him that they were worried to death, and as they continued their fruitless search it would only get worse. He didn’t have to guess why they hadn’t waited until morning, knowing his father and little brother as he did. It didn’t surprise him that they hadn’t run into each other. This was a big country and not a hard thing to do, especially at night.

With a ragged breath he rubbed at the sore, tired muscles in his back. His wearisome tread as he went to the bed betrayed him, he was worried and worn out, but – as was characteristic of all Cartwrights – he wouldn’t give in. Again he washed his brother’s face and neck and could feel the heat through the cloth. “You fight this thing. Don’t you dare quit on me. One of us bein’ foolish is enough for this family, so don’t ya do it.”

He stepped to the chair and sat down, leaning his head back, and his eyes stayed right on the peaceful face. Why had he wasted so much time feeling sorry for himself and pining for something that wasn’t meant to be? There was a woman for him somewhere, he believed that, it simply wouldn’t be Reagan Miller, but that didn’t matter now. The thought that Adam could die because of him and for no other reason was unbearable beyond mere words to describe.

“You hold on, brother,” he said softly. “You hear me, brother?” Tears flooded the tender blue eyes then broke free and ran down his cheeks. “I love you, brother.” Brother, what a wonderful word.

SEVEN

It was well up into the next morning and the rain had stopped when Ben and Joe came in, the futility of their search etched into their fatigued faces. They had followed the trail back from Hoss Heaven on the off chance that they had missed something in the dark but they hadn’t. It was obvious that Ben was more heartsick than he’d been in a long time. Hearing them, Hop Sing came out of the kitchen.

“We didn’t find ‘im,” Joe said despondently.

“But he…” Hop Sing started.

“We found Sport, but we didn’t find Adam, and Hoss wasn’t at his camp,” Ben cut him off. “The thought of him lying somewhere in that cold rain all night.”

“They both upstairs,” Hop Sing said with a wide gesture to the ceiling.

The clouds of grief cleared from them as the words barely left the little cook lips.

“Did you say both of them?” Ben blurted.

“Yes, Mista Cartlight, both number one and number two sons in Mista Adam’s room.”

Without any further words Ben and Joe bounded up the stairs and bolted down the hall. Hop Sing watched them, angst for his family written across his face, then went back into his domain.

The door flung open and Ben came in with Joe right behind him. What greeted them was Hoss standing over his brother with a wet cloth. “Hi, Pa, Joe,” he said with a quick glance around. “It’s about time you got home. We been waitin’ for you.”

Ben went straight to the side of the bed and looked down at his oldest son, and with a gentle hand touched the damp black hair that had curled on the sides. Since he was a baby it had always done that, and now it made a father’s heart ache. The fever in his child’s body had risen drastically since last he’d seen him, and he knew that the beginning of the worst was upon them.

“Doc Martin’s already been an’ gone, an’ he said pretty much said what he always does when one of us is sick. Keep ‘im warm an’ quiet an’ try ‘n git some o’ that medicine and lots o’ water in ‘im.” He wet his brother’s dry lips then looked to his father. “Pa, I been just plain awful to ‘im an’ I said some things I wouldn’t say to a hydrophobied dog. Then I went an’ shot ‘im...”

“That was an accident, son, Adam knows that,” Ben said as he put a comforting hand on his boy’s broad back.

“It don’t make no different, I still shot ‘im. Then yesterday when I wouldn’t come with Joe he said you and him was ashamed of me an’… an’ it helped to git me to thinkin’ about a lot o’ things.” His guilt-ridden eyes came up to his father’s face. “Pa, the night before he left for Carson City I good as told ‘im I wished… I wished he would… die.”

“Oh, Hoss, you didn’t,” Joe burst out as he stepped closer to the bed.

“I’m afraid I did, Joe. Pa, I don’t want ‘im to, I may’a meant it then but I sure don’t now.”

“No, Hoss, I can’t believe you ever meant that.” He didn’t mention that Adam had doubts. Then he put his arm around Hoss’ shoulders and gave him an understanding squeeze. “But that’s in the past, and that’s where it’ll stay. Right now our main concern is Adam and getting him through this. He needs all of us, and he needs for us to be strong for him.” Ben’s doleful eyes drifted back to Adam, and his arm tightened around Hoss. “We won’t abandon him.”

“Like I did,” Hoss thought.

<C>

The only indication that time was moving was the striking of the big grandfather clock down in the parlor. Ben and Joe and Hop Sing came and went, but Hoss was a constant. Nothing anyone said or did could take him from his brother’s side. He had his coffee there, he slept there, and he availed himself of the chamber pot kept under the bed when the need arose, but he wouldn’t even step out into the hall. Part of it was concern, part of it was guilt, but mostly it was love. He remembered the good things and let the recollections of the past two months be put away into a dark place where they would remain.

By the time the sun began turning the sky a soft coral the men of the Cartwright household were running on black coffee and fear of losing one they held dear. Sleep was a rare commodity and when it had come it was fitful and brief.

Dawn found Hoss dozing in the wing chair, his head against the side of it. His slumber was never sound, and he was constantly aware of every noise, but only the choice ones could make his eyelids raise. The door behind him opened quietly and boots against the floor were but a whisper. “Come on in, I ain’t asleep,” he said lowly.

Joe came to stand next to him with a cup and plate of eggs, bacon and biscuits.

“How’s he doing this morning?” Joe asked, his emerald gaze never leaving Adam.

“About the same. He didn’t move all night ‘cept to breathe.” Hoss glanced quickly at the food, but the appetite wasn’t there. “I take it that’s for me.”

“That’s right,” Joe said as he finally looked around, “and Pa says if you don’t eat it he’s gonna come up here and run you off and not let you back in ‘til you do.”

“Then I guess I’d best make a try at it,” Hoss said as he took the plate and cup.

“Yeah, you know how Pa can be.”

“I sure do, an’ Adam can be just as bad, sometimes I think worse.”

Silence prevailed as Hoss started on his breakfast. It tasted good but his thoughts weren’t on food as he ate mechanically. He’d finished almost half of it before he noticed that Joe was still standing next to the chair.

Joe came around and carefully sat on the side of the bed by his older brother’s legs. “I don’t know what we’ll do if he doesn’t make it.”

“It ain’t so much you ‘n me I’m worryin’ about as it is Pa. You know how he gits when one of us just so much as mashes a foot.”

“Yeah, I know.” Joe took a deep breath and looked around at him. “Hoss, who did you come back for, him or you?”

“I guess I come back for all of us. For a long time I couldn’t see that what I was doin’ wasn’t only hurtin’ Adam. You an’ Pa an’ even Hop Sing was gittin’ hurt too, but I was too blind mad at him to see it,” and he nodded toward the still one on the bed.

“You weren’t only mad at Adam; you were hurt too and you wanted to hurt ‘im back.”

“An’ I did, I sure did. Why I said some things to him that I ain’t never gonna repeat so don’t you ask me to.” Hoss took one more bite then scooted the plate under the chair. “An’ you know, the funny thing, I think he forgives me.”

“I don’t think anything about it, I know he does, because he’s Adam, and you’re his brother. For that reason alone he can’t do anything else. He’s always felt guilty about this and believed that you had a good reason for treating ‘im the way you did.”

“No, Joe, there ain’t no good reason for what I done to him, for what I done to my own brother.”

“I’m glad to finally hear you call him that.” Then Joe’s soft sigh filled the room. “I guess I’d better go on down and check on Pa. He was about to go to sleep in his chair when I came up. He was fightin’ it but I think it was winning.” Joe reached out, and his fingers tightened on one of the long legs. “Stay with us, Adam, you hear me? Stay with us.” Then with a last look at Hoss he walked out.

Hoss leaned forward and took a drag of his coffee. “I know you ain’t much for doin’ what other folks tell you to, but this time you listen to our little brother. Cause if’n you don’t we’ll never forgive you, an’ I’ll never forgive myself.”

<C>

The rest of the day moved like a cold snake, but it finally, inevitably made it to the night. Hoss stood at the bedroom window – a good place for thinking – watching the light gradually fade from the sky when he heard an anxious, deep voice behind him. Turning around, he saw that Adam had become restless. He went to the side of the bed and checked on his brother’s fever. “You’re burnin’ up,” Hoss said shaking his head.

“I’m sorry…. I’m sorry.”

“You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry about.”

“Please, don’t hate me, Hoss…. I can’t stand it if you hate me.”

The delirious words slashed into Hoss and tore a gaping wound that he knew he had no one but himself to blame for. He sat on the side of the bed and tried washing Adam’s face, but his head was rolling on the pillow and made it difficult.

“Please, don’t hate me.”

“I don’t, an’ I don’t know how I ever could o’ thought I did.”

“Please, please don’t hate me, Hoss…. I’m sorry.”

Hoss’ head dropped, and he covered his face with a large hand as his brother continued begging him not to hate him. He wanted to run away from the tortured pleas, but even if he did he knew they would stay in his ears.

Ben stood in the doorway watching his sons and wishing – for all the world – that he could take this away from them. Hoss was grieving for his brother and rebuking himself and Adam was hovering over the fine line between life and death. If only things could be different, if only they hadn’t happened the way they had, if only…. Quietly, he walked into the room. He put a comforting hand on Hoss’ back and his tear-shrouded eyes raised and met with his father’s. At that moment they communicated silently and felt each other’s pain.

Joe came softly into the room and stopped at his father’s side. Ben looked at his youngest son then put a strong hand on his shoulder. The three of them watched as Adam struggled to hang on and fought against the tormented memories that the delirium brought.

Joe wanted to reach out but right then it wouldn’t help anything. He looked to Hoss and he saw all the regret, self-anger, doubt and, most of all, forgiveness. Joe knew, however, that the latter was for Adam alone, for if he knew Hoss forgiveness of himself would be long in coming, if it ever did.

Hop Sing stood in the hall and listened to the frantic voice of his oldest boy. Sadness pinched his heart and caused pain to his humble Asian soul. He thought very highly of Mista Ben and adored each of his son’s as it they were his own. Since they were children and even before Missy Marie was killed, he had been a part of this family, and they had never treated him like anything less. He had lit incense in his room and asked the first-born’s ancestors to watch over him, now all any of them could do was keep up the fight and wait. With a heavy sigh he started back downstairs where he couldn’t hear this anymore.

EIGHT

It had been six weeks since Adam’s illness, and with each day his strength grew. The wound to his shoulder had healed, but it was evident that it would leave a scar as a reminder. He was aware of being watched for any sign of frailness; however that had lessened with the passage of time. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the strained relationship with his younger but decidedly larger brother, though now he suspected a different reason. Hoss hadn’t talked much about what had happened since that fateful night and the shooting itself. Whenever Adam tried talking to him about it Hoss would change the subject or simply walk away. Strong emotion was still very much at work inside the big man, but now Adam suspected that anger had been supplanted by guilt.

As he came down into the parlor he found his father and youngest brother at the breakfast table but Hoss wasn’t anywhere to be seen. His setting hadn’t been touched; the fork, knife and spoon remained at the sides of the clean plate as Hop Sing had placed them. It was blatantly obvious that Hoss hadn’t eaten, and when Hoss didn’t eat anyone who know him knew that something was wrong.

“Where’s Hoss?” Adam asked as he took his customary place at the end of the table across from his father.

“We haven’t seen ‘im all morning,” Joe said as he cut up a fried egg. “I think he’s out in the barn.”

“He rode out twenty minutes ago,” Ben put in over the rim of his cup then took a drink.

Adam picked up the bowl of biscuits. “Well, did he say where he was going?”

“No, but I suspect he just needed to get away to think.”

The coffee eyes came up to Adam’s face, and he read the message they contained.

“He’s been doing a lot of that lately,” Joe said, “but then I guess he has a lot on his mind.”

“I guess he does,” Adam said as he began filling his plate with biscuits. Then he started in on the ham.

Joe forgot about his own food as he watched him. “I knew you’d gotten your appetite back, but even Hoss doesn’t eat that much.”

“Now I know you’re joking, Joe, because he could eat everything on this table without batting an eyelash, then go into the kitchen looking for more.” He picked up his knife and split all the biscuits then cut up the ham and put between them. “I’ll take these out to him.”

“But you don’t even know where he went.”

“I have an idea,” Adam said as he grinned knowingly at his brother.

“Yeah,” Joe said with a nod as a gleam entered his eyes, “probably did.”

Adam got up and took the plate with the sandwiches into the kitchen.

<C>

When Adam rode out the ham and biscuits had been wrapped in a towel and stuffed securely into one of the pouches of his saddlebags. It was a beautiful, sunny October day, and – though a bit on the brisk side – he would have normally been in no hurry to reach his destination. This time, however, he wanted to get to Hoss as quickly as he could. It was way past time they had a earnest talk, and if he was where Adam thought he was it would be the perfect place for it.

When Sport came in along the edge of the stream that ran through Hoss Heaven, Adam was greeted by the radiance of autumn as it was in few other places on the Ponderosa. The brilliant reds and golds of the trees stood in sharp contrast to the azure of the crystal sky. The sound of the water as it played over the rocks had the ability to soothe and wash away troubles, if only temporarily.

The big chestnut was reined in and dark hazel eyes scanned the valley for any indication that Hoss had come here. They came around as he stood in the saddle, and what he saw told him instantly that he had guessed right. Giving Sport a nudge he headed in that direction.

As Hoss came down out of the trees Adam was sitting on a rock near where the horses were ground tied and grazing. One long leg was drawn up in front of him, and he was eating what looked like a biscuit. “We’ve been waiting,” he said as his brother came closer.

“What’re you doin’ here?”

“You left without your breakfast again, and I thought I’d bring it to you,” Adam said as he picked up the saddlebags from the ground and tossed them at him.

Hoss caught them clumsily against his chest. “I ain’t real hungry.”

“And you ain’t been for over a month. Well, that’s gotta stop or we won’t be calling you Hoss much longer. I don’t really think you’d care for bean pole.” A wicked glint filled Adam’s eyes as he took a Hoss-sized bite. “Now why don’t you set yourself down over here next to me? I only brought you eight but I thought it’d do until you got back to the house.” When Hoss continued to stand his ground Adam patted the rock by him as he chewed.

With obvious reluctance, Hoss did as his brother told him to. An elbow in the ribs urged him to look into the left pouch. As he came out with the fragrant bundle his mouth watered, and his stomach reminded him vehemently that he hadn’t eaten since the night before and little at that.

“If you don’t I’ll tell Hop Sing.”

The blue eyes darted in Adam’s direction then he began undoing the towel. He picked up one of the golden brown, ham-filled biscuits but only looked at it. Another jab from his brother’s elbow convinced him to take a bite, even though it was more of a nibble. It tasted pretty good, and his belly clamored for more as soon as it made its way down there.

“Ah, you can do better than that. Let me show you how it’s done.” As Hoss watched Adam bit the whole side out of his. “Now you try,” he said around a full mouth.

Hoss raised it but just stared at it then laid it back down.

“It was an accident. There I was slipping into the house in the dead of night like a common thief. You were alone with the ranch payroll and somebody was going around breaking into folks houses and stealing. Anybody else would’ve done the same thing.”

Hoss couldn’t bring himself to look at him. “But you didn’t know I was home.”

“And you didn’t know it was your brother breaking in on you. Hoss, if you’re guilty, then so am I.”

“I know, but it ain’t just that.” His fingers bunched on the towel. “When I first seen what I done… I ain’t so sure I was… sorry.” His gaze went to the dusty toes of his boots.

“If I live to be a hundred-and-seventy-five you can never make me believe that.” He would never admit that once – for a short time – that he did believe it. His brother had enough doubting himself, and this he didn’t need to know. He put a hand on Hoss’ shoulder and felt the muscles tense. “You are the most gentle, good-hearted, easy-going man I’ve ever been honored to know and nobody could ever convince me that you would want to shoot me. Now, maybe I deserved it…”

“Oh, no, Adam,” Hoss said as he spun on him. “You didn’t do nothin’.”

“I drove you away from home.”

“No, you didn’t, I done that my own self. When I was stayin’ out here I had a lotta time to think about a lotta things, an’ then when Joe said he was ashamed I was his brother cause I…”

“He didn’t mean that.”

“He did then, an’ he was right. I was to be ashamed of. I turned on one o’ the three most important people in my life an’ I nearly killed ‘im. For two months before the shootin’ I was the kinda brother you don’t wantta own up to. I wanted to hurt you, an’ the hatefuller the thing I could think of to say the more I wanted to say it.” He pushed his hat back on his head and took a deep breath. “That night before you left for Carson City, I’ll never forgit the look in your eyes when I told you I wished you’d die.”

“Hoss.”

“No, I gotta say this. What hit me so hard was that I said a thing like that to my own brother an’ then you almost did cause I upped an’ shot you…. I’ve only been stayin’ around cause o’ Pa, but it just ain’t workin’.”

“Because you won’t let it. Hoss, you’re my brother, and I love you. I always have, and I always will. If my dying is what’s best for you or Pa or Joe, then that’s just the way it’ll have to be. I’d put my life down for any one of you, and I know that any one of you would do the same for me, that’s one of the things that makes us a family. When you love somebody so much that you’ll willingly die for them, well, that’s the strongest kind of love there is. There may be times when things come along that try to break it, but in the end it doesn’t happen, and if it does it wasn’t that strong to start with. I know you loved Reagan, and in her own way I believe she loved you, but she is who she is, and you are who you are. She saw that it wouldn’t work out so she decided to let you go so, and I’ll always respect her for that.” His fine mouth curved into an affectionate smile that reached his warm eyes. “I tell you what, I’ll go on home and let you think over what I’ve said, but only if you promise me you’ll eat those.”

“I promise.”

Adam gave him a slap on the back then slung his saddlebags over his shoulder and went to his horse, munching on the way.

“Adam.”

“Yeah, Hoss,” Adam said as he turned back to him.

“Why don’t you stay so’s we can talk some more?” He held up the bundle. “We can share these.”

“I’d like that, but only if you think you can stand my company.”

“I’ve stood a lot worse.”

“All right then,” Adam said with a broad grin. He threw the bags over Sport’s back behind the saddle then rejoined his brother on the rock.

Adam took down his last bite, and Hoss held out one of the sandwiches to him. Their eyes met and neither moved for several seconds then Adam winked and took it from him and bit into it. With a slight grin Hoss did the same.

The past three and a half months were finally put behind them as brotherly voices rose into the cool fall air and made their way into the trees. Hoss had been hurt by his love for a woman and because of it had hurt a brother, but it was that very brother that was there for him now. Blood is indeed thicker than water and deep, intense love can crumble even the strongest hate, this Hoss knew. He had learned this lesson from two very good teachers and now he was having breakfast with one of them. Adam had been right when he said that Hoss would die for him, and right now Hoss knew that more than he ever had. At this moment, though, he was happy to be alive and sharing more than food with Adam – a brother, an ally, and a best friend.

THE END

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