In Death’s Shadow
by
Janice Sagraves

This is for Corinna, who’s new to Bonanza, and loves it and fan fiction.

I

The rapid thumping of his heart blotted out the sound of the lever being pulled or the scrape of wood against wood as the trap door fell away. His feet kicked free and the noose tightened around his neck with a jerk as he dropped into space and eternity.

Adam Cartwright sat straight up in bed, his broad chest heaving violently beneath the nightshirt that stuck to his sweaty body like a second layer of skin. The pants came so fast and hard that they made his lungs feel as if they would burst, but he couldn’t control it even if he wanted to try. His hand went to his throat, and he swallowed just to make sure that he still could.

Throwing the covers back, his long legs swung over the side of the bed, and his bare feet smacked the cool plank floor. He groped his way to the small writing desk next to his night table and lit the lamp to chase away the dark void.

Propping his elbows on top of the piece of furniture he rested his forehead in his hands and laced his fingers in his damp black hair. This was the eighth night in a row that the nightmare had come, and it threatened to drive him mad. He snickered nervously into the silence, and wondered if maybe he would be better off if it did. Maybe that way he wouldn’t dwell so much on what had happened. And maybe, though he seriously doubted it, he could forgive, though he could never forget.

<>C<>

Joe Cartwright paid little attention to what he was doing as he watched his oldest brother going through the lethargic movements of saddling his horse. He had noticed that with each passing day since the dark time in town that Adam had grown steadily more rigid and quiet. Everyday chores and tasks had become more of a burden that he got through as expediently as possible. He was worried about Adam, and he didn’t have the slightest idea what he could possibly do about it.

“Are you two about ready?” Hoss Cartwright asked as he blustered into the barn. “Pa says that if’n you don’t hurry he’ll find somethin’ for you to do here.”

Joe’s emerald eyes went to Hoss’ full face and explanation wasn’t necessary. For one charged moment the two youngest Cartwright sons just looked at each other then Hoss walked over to where Adam worked.

“So,” Hoss said as he rested an arm on the sleek chestnut’s rump, “I been thinkin’ that with this bein’ Saturday, how about tonight you, me and Joe go into Virginia City an’…”

The sharp dark hazel eyes that turned on him ran through Hoss like a war lance. Amber lights burned in them, and they reminded him of a cornered wolf and certainly not his brother. The finely sculpted mouth that could part into a bright, toothy grin, when the occasion arose, was now set in a firm, flat line. If someone had struck Hoss in the face with a horseshoe it couldn’t have hurt any worse.

Without a word, Adam gave the cinch a final tug then brought the fender down from the saddle’s seat and let it drop. Then, taking up the reins, Adam led the horse outside and didn’t even bother looking at his brothers.

Joe stepped next to Hoss and they watched him go.

“Did you havta bring up that town?” Joe said tersely once their brother got out of earshot.

“I just thought he’d like to get away from here for a good time, he’s been workin’ so hard.” Hoss ruffled his fine brown hair. “I guess I just wasn’t thinkin’.”

“I guess you weren’t,” Joe huffed as he returned to Cochise and finished saddling the sprightly little paint. “We both know what this is about, and Virginia City is right in the middle of it.”

“I don’t think it’s so much the town as it is those that live there, an’ I think there’s more to it than that.” Hoss’ brow knit into a contemplative frown. “Has he said anything about it to you?”

Joe’s head snapped around, and his eyes were keen as a straightedge razor. “Don’t be ridiculous, this is Adam we’re talking about. If he talks to anybody at all it’ll be Pa.”

“Well, has Pa told you anything?”

“Only that we need to give him time.” Joe’s fingers knotted on the saddle’s horn and cantle then he whirled on Hoss. “They almost hung him, for Pete’s sake. People that he called friend and liked and trusted tried stringing him up. That they could believe that he could just up and kill somebody even when he kept telling them that he hadn’t…, and then to try him and convict him and almost hang him. And Sally saying she saw him do it when she couldn’t have. If it hadn’t been for that stranger… In Adam’s place I wouldn’t want any part of ‘em either.”

“Joe,” Hoss said as he rested a hand on his little brother’s shoulder, “they made a mistake.”

“A mistake that almost got our pa and brother killed!” Joe’s voice lowered and grew more menacing. “And if it had… I would’ve burned that lousy town to the ground.”

<>C<>

Noon and dinner wasn’t so far off when Adam and Joe finally rode back into the yard, several horse lengths between them. Joe stopped at the hitch rail in front of the house and glanced back at his brother before he stepped down.

“This I’m looking forward to,” Joe said as he wrapped the reins around the rail and gave his horse a pat on the neck. “Jerky just goes so far.”

Adam came up next to him and dismounted like a mummy, stiff and quiet.

“And Hop Sing said something about duck for supper,” Joe went on in an effort to elicit some sort of speech from his brother. “Personally, I like chicken better, but he knows how much you like it.”

Adam hastily tethered his horse then stalked into the house, never once looking at Joe.

Joe could feel the fuse burning at the back of his head. It wasn’t Adam he was furious with but those that had done this to him. He could maybe forgive the few, including the sheriff and deputy, who had only been doing their job, which had signed the petition for a stay of execution, but never the others. They had done this to Adam, and he hoped they rotted in their self righteous shoes.

With a grunt, he started across the porch and went inside.

Ben Cartwright stood at the huge stone fireplace that dominated the parlor – his salt-and-pepper head bowed – when his third-born son came in. The glow from the fire cast over his face and glittered in his somber coffee eyes, and he didn’t look around.

“Where’s Adam?” Joe asked as his gaze finished its exploratory circuit of the large room.

“He asked Hop Sing to bring him a tray when dinner’s ready then went to his room,” Ben said, his attention still focused on the flames.

Joe took off his hat and gun belt and hung them on the rack by the front door then went to his father. “Pa.”

“This is eating my son alive,” Ben said and picked up the poker and began jabbing the burning logs, “and I don’t know what to do…. He simply refuses to talk about it.”

“But you know what’s doing this to him, don’t you?”

“That twelve men who know him could sentence him to be hanged for something he didn’t do.” He sniggered mirthlessly. “And knowing Adam there’s probably more to it than that.”

“They sentenced you too Pa and you haven’t gone all to pieces like this.”

Ben snorted and shook his head. “I’m not of the sensitive nature your brother is, and I’ve been around longer and seen more…. I don’t blame them, they were going by the evidence, and you must admit that it was pretty compelling.”

“You mean Sally’s testimony that she saw you, and Adam kill her father through a window I couldn’t see a house through…, the lying witch.”

“She wasn’t deliberately lying, she simply wanted justice for the murder of her father, just like you boys would, and she convinced herself that she’d seen what she couldn’t have.”

“Amounts to the same thing.”

“No, Joe, it doesn’t.”

“Well, it does to me, and I’m glad she left, and I don’t care where she went. In fact, I wish I could’ve told her where to go.”

Ben finally turned to him. “You can’t be vindictive about this, son.”

“If it takes my brother away from me, I can, and I will.”

Joe spun on his heel, and Ben watched him as he bounded up the staircase then vanished down the hall. After several seconds a door slammed, and his hand tightened on the poker.

“My family…. It’s devouring my family.”

II

Ben sat in his favored big red leather chair by the fire, his unlit pipe in his mouth, absentmindedly fingering its ivory bowl. His sons had gone to bed, and he always enjoyed the quiet time right before he did the same. It was a good time to just think and reflect, and goodness knew that this night he had plenty to turn over in his mind.

“Pa.”

Ben looked up at the sound of the soft voice, a voice he had heard very little lately. He had been so immersed in his own thoughts that he hadn’t heard his eldest come downstairs. “I thought you’d gone to bed along with your brothers.”

“Not yet…. I wanted to talk to you about something first.”

Ben’s breath rushed through into him; this was what he had been waiting for. “Of course, son, always. Sit down.”

“No, Pa, this won’t take long.”

Ben felt suddenly deflated. “I’m still ready to listen.”

“I’ve been giving a lot of thought about what… about a lot of things…, and I’ve realized that I need some time to myself…. I want to leave.”

Ben felt as if a cold hand had been brought across his face. “Leave? Where would you go, and for how long?”

“Oh, not far, maybe not even off the Ponderosa and probably for no more than a few days, a week at the most…. I just need to be alone. So much has happened in the last few weeks, and I just need to sort it all out.”

“Can’t you do that here? This is your home.”

“I know that, but I just need to be off on my own…. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, I can, and I understand that you need to be with your family right now.” Ben put the pipe down on the table by his chair then stood and took his son’s shoulders. “Adam, we only want to help. We care very deeply for you, as a family should, and we can see what this thing is doing to you.”

“Pa, I…”

“Let me finish, son. I know better than anybody what you’re feeling. I was right there on that scaffold next to you with a rope around my neck too.”

“I know, and that’s mainly why I havta get away.”

Ben was stunned, and it showed as he dropped his arms.

“Now, I’d like your permission to go, but if you won’t give it that won’t stop me…. It’s that important to me…. Please, Pa.”

It wasn’t in Adam’s nature to beg, and when his ardently self-reliant son did Ben didn’t have the power to say no. “All right, son.”

“Thanks, Pa. I’ll head out right after breakfast…. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, son,” Ben said lifelessly and watched him go back upstairs.

Ben felt all hollow inside. Why would his being in the same position Adam had be driving him off? Was there something buzzing around in that dark head that Ben couldn’t begin to fathom? Since a small boy, Adam possessed enigmatic qualities that baffled all who knew him, one time or another. Ben sighed heavily then returned to his chair and let his eyes drift back to the mesmerizing fire. He didn’t want to let Adam go, not in the state he was in, but what else could he do?

Ben tented his hands in front of him, and an ache settled in his heart. “Take care, son,” he said half aloud. “And I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

<>C<>

Adam’s father and brothers watched him from the front porch as he tied the bag of provisions to the horn of his saddle. Joe and Hoss stood like guards on either side of Pa but kept their hands to themselves. Adam swung onto the horse’s back and gathered the reins into his left hand then turned the hint of a smile to them. Ben returned it but his other two sons remained stoic. With a gentle tug, Sport wheeled toward the barn then headed out of the yard at a walk. The family stood, only their breathing making any kind of movement, until Adam disappeared past the large structure then Ben turned and went back into the house, closing the sturdy oak door behind him.

“I don’t go along with Pa on this,” Joe said, his eyes still focused on the path of his father’s departure. “If there was ever a time when Adam needs to be with his family this is it.”

“What can we do when the two most stubborn people we ever knowed makes up their minds to it.”

Joe finally looked around at him with a cocky smirk. “Well, now, what they don’t know won’t hurt us.”

“You mean git us killed. An’ how long’s it gonna take Adam to figger out that somebody’s doggin’ ‘im?”

“We won’t get that close,” Joe said then smacked his brother against the arm, “and with your skills as a tracker, we won’t lose ‘im.”

“Well, if’n he ain’t gonna know we’re there then what’s the heck o’ the sense in us goin’?”

“You just don’t understand.”

“Maybe I don’t, but if’n we don’t git after ‘im he’s gonna plumb git away from us.” A bright smile lit Hoss’ clear blue eyes.

With a faint giggle, Joe gave him another cuff on the arm, and they headed off to get their horses.

<>C<>

It didn’t take Adam long to figure out that somebody was trailing him, and he had a good idea who. Under normal circumstances it would have elicited a grin, but these circumstances were far from being normal, and he wasn’t in the mood for his brothers’ shenanigans. He knew they meant well, but so had the people in Virginia City when they had almost... His throat constricted, and he rested his hand on the stock of the big Colt on his hip, just in case.

Adam glanced behind him and saw nothing, but suspected that they were staying far enough back to keep from being detected. One side of his mouth crimped, and he shook his head. He continued on, his ears finely tuned to the sounds behind him. They were keeping their distance and obviously trying to be quiet. Then his head tilted to one side, and he knew that they had stopped, possibly because they didn’t want to get too close. Tugging on the left rein, Adam eased Sport into the thick trees. Now he would wait for them.

Adam continued to listen, and he heard them start up again, and he knew that before long they would ride right past him. He removed the loop from the hammer of the pistol, and his heartbeat sped up. The sound of what he guessed to be two horses swishing through the tall grass came steadily closer, and his mouth became steadily drier.

The pattern of the marks on the wiry black-and-white pinto his little brother rode he had become very familiar with over the years, and he would know the horse anywhere. The stocky Morgan that Hoss had named Chubb was also unmistakable, and they had both just passed before him. With a nudge, Sport appeared from the trees like a red specter and stopped.

“That’s a good way to get yourself shot.”

Joe and Hoss reined in immediately and turned in their saddles. “Adam,” they said almost in unison.

“You seem to forget about my close association with the Paiutes. I’ve known you were back there from the beginning.”

Joe and Hoss only looked at each other then moved their mounts closer to their brother’s.

“I’m not even gonna ask what you two were doing. I just want you to go back home.”

“We’re worried about you,” Joe said with a quick glance at Hoss. “We don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to be out here by yourself right now.”

Adam’s lone eyebrow rose lazily. “Why is now any different than all the other times I’ve been off alone?”

“You know,” Hoss said with a shrug. “After what happened in Virginia City.”

Adam’s eyes went suddenly black, and the muscles in his jaws knotted. “I think that’s my business, don’t you? Now, I want you both to go back home. I can take care of myself.”

“But, Adam…,” Joe started.

“I said go home! And you can tell Pa that I don’t need two nursemaids watching over me and getting underfoot.”

“Pa didn’t send us,” Hoss said forcefully. “And he’ll probably be hoppin’ mad when he finds out we come.”

“I doesn’t matter, just go home.”

“Adam,” Joe said as he reached out to him.

“Leave me alone!” Adam shouted as he slapped Joe’s hand away. “Now get out of here! I don’t want you, and I don’t need you! I’m capable of taking care of myself!””

Joe and Hoss looked as if the best friend they ever had had just died.

“If that’s the way you want it,” Joe said softly, tears welling in his warm green eyes.

“It is,” Adam said abruptly.

“Come on, Hoss.”

Adam watched them as they started on the way they had come; backs slumped with dejection, and his own heart heavy as lead. He hadn’t enjoyed yelling and saying such things to his brothers, but he knew it had been the only way to get them to go.

“I’m sorry,” he said lowly when they were far enough away so they wouldn’t hear. “I’ll always need both of you and Pa.”

Then he turned Sport and resumed his journey, to where, he didn’t know.

III

Hoddy Burkett lifted the jug to his lips and took another good slug. By this time he was well beyond caring that its contents had the bite of a rattler. He spluttered and wiped his mouth on his coat sleeve and shivered in his tracks.

“Hoo-wee, that’s good and it sure can take the misery out of a man.” He placed a sloppy, wet kiss on the side of the earthenware jug. “And you’re a better huntin’ companion than anybody I know. Come on, friend; let’s go see if we can find somethin’ for my woman to cook for supper.”

Hoddy shifted the Sharps buffalo gun in the crook of his elbow then took another swallow and started on along the bank of a small trickle of water. He caught the toe of his boot on a rock and nearly fell but managed to right himself and laughed stupidly as he went right on.

<>C<>

Adam had long left the trail he had been on and started off toward Little Bit Creek, if you wanted to call it that. Nothing more than a trickle that a ground squirrel could wade, it was still cold and wet and better than stale canteen water. Sport picked his footing carefully as he worked his way down a bare slope, kicking loose the occasional rock. Adam swayed in the saddle with the motion of the horse, and for the first time in many days felt so alive. His chest swelled as he took a deep draught of the spicy early autumn air, and he let life course through his veins like a rejuvenating elixir.

“Sport, old boy, we just may never go back to the house. We could live in one of the line shacks. Which one do you favor?”

The horse tossed his head as they came down onto more level ground.

“Oh, I see. You’re leaving the choice up to me. Well…,” Adam sat straighter and looked around him, “since we’re already headed in that direction, how about Gooseberry Ridge?”

The horse nodded his head again as if in answer.

“All right. Gooseberry Ridge it is.”

With a light kick he urged the leggy chestnut into a trot, and they headed off past a cluster of the poplars that filled the area around Little Bit Creek.

<>C<>

Hoddy stopped and leaned back against the trunk of a lighting shattered tree. “Look, legs,” he slurred and took a swig, “I’m the boss here, got it, and where I wantta go, we go…. Now, I wantta go along this Bittle Lit Creek.” He snorted and ruffled his wispy sand-colored hair and took another jolt. “You know what I mean.” A frown creased his brow, and he scratched the side of his head. “You do, don’t ya?” He pushed himself away from the tree and staggered. “It don’t matter if you do or not. Let’s go, and if you can’t keep up I’ll just leave ya behind.” He cackled at his own joke and headed off again weaving from side-to-side, his feet scuffing the ground.

<>C<>

The sun had gone behind some clouds and the sky had become gray and sullen. A light breeze had picked up in the tops of the trees and played in what remained of the scarlet leaves. Overhead, a golden eagle soared on the thermals, the tips of his wings and his tail acting as his rudders.

Adam pulled Sport to a halt and looked upward. Had he ever seen a more perfect day as this? It pulsed through him, and he wished it could go on endlessly.

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it to the shack before it gets dark, not at this rate, leastwise. And if it decides to rain we’re gonna get just a wet. I know you don’t mind, but I didn’t bring a change of clothes or my slicker.” He took a deep breath. “So, I suppose we oughtta be looking for a place to camp for the night.”

He surveyed the country around him once more then got Sport moving again. He didn’t relish the idea of sleeping in the rain so he had better get moving. If he couldn’t make it to the line shack then a rock outcrop would do, if he could find one.

<>C<>

With a growl more than a grunt, Hoddy lowered the buffalo gun. “Shoot, that’s the second deer to cross my sights, and I ain’t got off a shot yet.” His pale eyebrows knit, and his nose wrinkled. “Or was it the third…. It don’t matter. I ain’t goin’ home ‘til I get myself a deer.” He smacked his mouth. “Boy, won’t Mava be surprised when I come in with a nice, fat buck.” He chortled. “Although she ain’t so fond o’ cleanin’ ‘em. Don’t matter. I want a deer, and by-durn I’ll have one. Come on, pal,” he said and bent from the waist to pick up the jug and almost landed on top of his head. “We got work to do.”

He started off again, the jug dangling at his side, and the long gun held just as haphazardly. His legs had gotten less cooperative, and he kept veering from the minuscule rivulet. Lifting the vessel and resting it on his elbow, he raised his arm and took a good swig then let it drop to his side. Then he started telling himself a joke, the kind you didn’t tell in mixed company.

<>C<>

Adam could see Little Bit Creek off in the distance as they cleared a clump of poplars, and the sight turned the corners of his mouth. “Almost there, boy, though we may havta go some in either direction to find what we’re looking for. But we’ll get there, don’t you worry.”

He wanted to find a source of shelter before night fell so he nudged the horse a little faster. His eyes flitted to the sky. Maybe it wouldn’t rain, but he didn’t relish the idea of waking up in a puddle next morning, drenched to the bone and shivering in his boots. He had had it happen before, and it wasn’t one of his more pleasant memories.

Sport’s spry gait soon brought them to the edge of the water, and Adam reined him in.

“I know where we’re at. That way’ll take us closer to the house,” he said as he looked to his left then to his right, “and that way’ll take us closer to Virginia City.” His hand strangled on the reins. “But I know for sure there’s a shallow cave not too far off that’ll be a good place to spend the night, and it’s even big enough for you.” He gave the horse a healthy pat on the neck then brought him around, and they started in the direction of town.

<>C<>

Hoddy stopped and leaned the Sharps against a large rock. Cocking his head to one side, he held the jug close to his ear and shook it, and it sloshed noisily. Closing on eye, he put the other right over the top opening. “Ain’t much left.” His face skewed, and he looked up at the sky. “Maybe I ought head on back home.” He doddered in place, and his attention turned back to the container. “Nope, I’ll just slow down and make it last. I didn’t come this far after a deer just to turn back without gettin’ one.”

Clumsily, he grasped the gun by the barrel and headed off again, his feet barely clearing the ground and kicking over rocks. Once, he splashed into the water but only laughed about it and kept right on going.

<>C<>

At the pace they were going it didn’t take Adam and Sport long to reach the spot they were headed for. Red leaves littered the area, and water splattered over several rocks. The cave was back twenty maybe twenty feet from the bank, and four or five trees grew around its entrance forming a blind. If he hadn’t already known it was there it would have been difficult to find.

Adam got down and looped the reins securely about a low limb of a more mature poplar and went to check it out. Pushing back the spidery branches, he peered inside. He had been here many times through the years, but had never gone inside more than once or twice though his brothers had many times. He guessed it to be probably no more than six feet deep, seven at the most, and just high enough and wide enough to accommodate his horse. A few animal bones were at the back of it so he knew that some predators had brought their meals here, but for tonight it would be his and Sport’s home away from home.

“All right,” he said, rubbing his hands together as he went back to the horse and began untying the provisions bag from the saddle horn. “Things could get cramped if it starts to rain and just a might close, but we don’t care, do we? I’ll start laying things out, and we’ll get settled for the night.” Then he gave the horse an affectionate smack on the rump and started for the cave.

Hoddy’s inebriated eyes only detected movement through the trees. Hastily, he put the jug down, raised the gun and managed to squeeze the trigger. An explosion rent the still air, and he saw his deer drop.

“Whoop-dee-doo!” he shouted as he slapped his thigh. “I finally got one!”

Grabbing the jug by the handle, he took off recklessly, his thin legs winding him on.

“Oh, boy, wait’ll Mava sees…”

But the words died in his throat as he cleared a large tree. He had shot something all right, but it wasn’t a deer. A black-haired man lay on his back, blood swelling on his green coat at his midsection, and his eyes were closed. He didn’t move, and Hoddy couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. A fractious red horse stood near the bank, tethered to a limb.

The jug shattered as it hit the ground, its clear liquid quickly seeping into the dirt. Hoddy stood frozen, transfixed in time, unable to speak or move. He blinked hard to clear his fuzzy vision and shook his head in an effort to do the same for his liquor clouded brain.

The horse snorted, and Hoddy’s head shot around as the animal began pawing the ground. He looked back at what he had done and felt as if his lungs would stop working. His mouth went dry, and he had never felt more sober in his life. He began backing slowly away – his gaze never leaving the man lying there maybe dead – then he abruptly broke and ran without looking back.

IV

Gradually, consciousness wormed its way in and varying sensations – not all of them pleasant – started to come awake. His extremities didn’t seem to be there, and his head felt as if it had been stuffed full of cotton. Something pelted and splattered in his face, but his mind was still too hazy to figure out what it could be. A chill ran along his back from head to feet and something hard gouged him between his shoulder blades.

His lids rose lethargically and batted against the pattering drops, and it slowly dawned that it was raining. One hand came to his head, and he rubbed at the throbbing that had moved in behind his eyes. He tried seeing where he was, and, at the same time, recall what had happened to him, but the two made no connection.

“How long’ve you been… laying here?” he said hoarsely.

He looked back into the sky and noticed that maybe it had darkened some but that could only be because of the rain. Then he tried moving his arms and legs and they felt like iron weights. Much as he didn’t want to fool with it he knew he had to try to get up.”

“Well…, here goes nothing,” he said then all at once shoved himself away from the damp ground.

As he sat up, a sharp burning ran along his right side and every nerve ending in his body caught fire. Then the pain came in a wave, and he just wanted to lie back and die in peace, but there wasn’t time. His dark hazel eyes dropped, and he instantly saw that the front of his coat was saturated in blood. Pressing his hand against the wound, which brought forth a wince, he worked his legs under him. As he straightened, it pulled on the damaged skin, and only suited to aggravate the flames.

Drawing a heavy breath, he turned to where he reasoned he had left his horse. Sport danced like a nervous ballerina, tugging at the restraints that kept him from running off, but the animal was still there, for which he would be eternally grateful. With concerted effort, and his own brand of stubbornness, he forced his legs into action and went to the big chestnut.

“Easy, boy,” he said and gave him a reassuring pat. “I’m right here.”

The horse calmed some at the sound of his voice and his touch but Adam could still see the fear and anxiety in the large brown eyes, and feel the dense muscles quivering just beneath the surface.

“You didn’t happen to see… which stagecoach hit me…, did you, boy?” He managed a chuckle, but it was subdued and lacked any sort of humor.

His breathing was coming in short, fast gasps, and he leaned his head forward against the horse’s neck. His fingers tangled in the coarse red mane, and he felt like his legs would fall out from under him at any moment.

“We can’t… stand here… all night,” he rested the side of his face against the satiny coat and kept forcing the bracing air in through his mouth. “We need to… get to… shelter.”

His fingers fumbled with the wet braided leather strips as he unwound them from around the tree limb. This simple action hurt like the dickens, but it couldn’t be helped. Once free, he held them in his fist and led Sport back to the cave. It took some work getting the big horse through the grasping tentacles of the trees and Sport wasn’t so interested in going along with the idea, but he finally got both of them inside. The reins slipped from his hand, and he leaned back against the cold wall and slid down its bumpy surface. His butt hit the floor hard and the resultant jolt jarred a rush of agony through him, and he bit off a groan.

He wanted to just lean back and go to sleep and forget about the whole sorry deal, but that he couldn’t do, his very life depended on it. Now he had to make an assessment of the damage he had suffered and do what he could to hold himself together.

The larger buttons of the coat proved not to be so much of a problem, but the smaller ones on the shirt defied him. He thought about just jerking it open and popping them off, but he would need to be able to fasten it up again later. Finally undoing the last one, he opened it back and bolstered himself for what he would see.

His side and across his stomach were covered with blood. Letting his fingers crawl down over his sticky skin he found a wound – which still oozed – about the size of a dime. He had been shot, and by something a bit more substantial than a six-gun. Now he needed to know if the slug was still inside him. Gritting his teeth for what he knew would come – he leaned forward against his bent legs. The pain rushed up and lodged in his throat, but he refused to cry out. With both hands, he felt all over his back, along both sides and under his arms and found nothing. Yep, still in there.

Now he had to concoct a makeshift bandage to stanch the bleeding. The first sleeve easily pulled loose from the shirt, but the other one fought back and steadfastly refused to. He finally resorted to biting the thread and had no problem after that. Next, he knotted them together at the cuffs and tugged on them to set it. Scrounging in his coat pocket, he found a dark blue bandana. Wadding it into a firm ball, he placed it against the wound then brought his ersatz binding around him. Making sure it stayed against the hole, he tied the ends together and gave a good yank. He bit into his lower lip, and his eyes squeezed together as he rode out the crest of the pain.

Sport’s head came down, and he snuffled in the heavy black hair and got a pat on the jowl.

“I’m all right,” Adam said breathlessly. “I think.”

He finished tying the sleeves together so they wouldn’t come loose then put on the remains of the shirt. Once he got it buttoned again he slipped his coat on over it, both garments becoming stiff with drying blood. He leaned his head back against the wall with a thump and rested his arms on his knees. If he had ever been this tired he couldn’t remember it. The simple act of taking care of his injury had worn him completely out. He knew he needed to try getting a fire started, Nevada nights, especially in the fall and winter, could be so cold, but right now he just wanted to rest, and he didn’t think a little nap would hurt anything.

<>C<>

Mava Burkett stood at the stone fireplace that nearly filled one whole wall of the single roomed ramshackle cabin. She had grown up in a household where the meals were cooked on the hearth, so she was used to it, but a stove would be awfully nice. She had just finished stirring the bubbling cast iron pot that hung from a crane when Hoddy burst in. The chilly air struck her in the back, but she didn’t turn around.

“You’re just in time. Supper’s about done.” She laid the long wooden spoon on a small table then turned. “You’re timing’s getting better, this time…” But the sentence was left hanging as she got a good gander at him. In twenty-odd years of marriage she had never seen her husband look so white. Her thick arms crossed in front of her, and her tan eyes narrowed. “Now whatcha done? I’ve seen that look before but you ain’t ever looked so much like a haint. This’un must be a real pip.”

Hoddy just stared at the floor – his hand still gripped on the barrel of the gun – and his breaths kept coming in ragged jerks.

“Ya know if you’d leave the pop-skull alone you wouldn’t get into these things. You’re usually so blind, staggering drunk that…”

“I think I shot a man?” he said meekly.

Mava turned to pure ice. “You think you what?”

Slowly, his copper eyes rose to her face. “Shot a man…. I think I shot a man… out by Little Bit Creek.”

Her eyes shot to the gun, and she felt her heart skip several beats. “Hoddy Burkett, I have told you, and told you that this’d happen someday!”

“I said, I think I shot somebody.”

“Of course, you think you did! You’re always so glassy-eyed drunk you don’t know your own name half the time!”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Just like you didn’t mean to shoot Jett Gallup’s brood mare last year.” She marched over to him and yanked the gun away from him. “Now you say it happened out by Little Bit Creek. You remember just where?”

“I ain’t even sure it did happen.”

“Hoddy!” She slammed the gun down on the battered eating table and turned back to him. “We’ll go on the chance you did. I’d rather go all the way out there and find you didn’t than stay put and hear you did. Do you know who it was?”

He just stared blankly between his feet. “I didn’t notice his face…, mostly just all that blood.” His head finally rose, and he looked straight at her. “I don’t wantta go back.”

“It don’t make no never mind what you want. Now go hitch ol’ Buster and Ginny up to the wagon.” She jerked the door open.

“Mava.”

“I ain’t asking.”

He ruffled his wispy hair then went out.

Mava went to the fireplace and swung the crane so the pot no longer hung over the flames. “Why’d you ever marry that man,” she mumbled then whirled for the door. “You shoulda listened to maw and paw.” She got her heavy shawl from its peg on the wall and brought it over her shoulders and head. “He’s gonna be the death o’ me if I ain’t him first.”

She had always hoped this day would never come, but now it had, and she could only pray that this turned out to be another drunken imagining. Heaven help them all if it didn’t. Then, with a shake of her head, she went out and closed the door.

V

The rain had been peppering down pretty good for a while when the big wagon came to a slight bend in the creek.

“Here!” Hoddy shouted. “I think it was here!”

Mava brought the team to a halt and fired a cutting look at him. “You said the same thing about the last three places we stopped.”

“Yeah, but I remember that big ol’ tree,” Hoddy said as he gestured to a large poplar.

She watched him as he clambered down, his eyes tracing the ground like a bloodhound on the scent.

Pulling the wet shawl close around her, she climbed down. “Hoddy, are you sure?”

“More sure ‘n I’ve ever been,” he said as he walked along the bank.

“Like when you said you saw that possum the size of a milk cow?”

He stopped, and his arms went limp at his sides. “It was a milk cow.”

“But it weren’t no possum.”

“Yeah,” he said then resumed his search, “but I did see something.”

“And if half the stuff you seen…” but her voice trailed off in the soggy air.

“Maybe you’re right.” He stopped and began rubbing his right arm. “It could all be in my head like most those before…. But it all seemed so real…. I spose you’re right, though, ‘cause there ain’t nobody here either.”

“But there was.”

Hoddy spun toward his wife, his pulse drumming in his temples. There she stood, the rain beating on her, holding a white muslin bag, now stained with mud, and a silver gray hat.

“You hit somebody right enough.”

“So whadda we do now?”

“We go into town and tell the sheriff. ‘Cause o’ you somebody’s out here, maybe with the slug still in him.”

“Uh-uh,” Hoddy said as he started backing away. “I ain’t gonna…”

“Oh, yes, you are. You got drunk one time too many, and I don’t think somebody else should oughtta havta to pay for it. We’re going into town to tell the sheriff, and you better hope to Heaven we find that man alive. Now get on the wagon, and don’t make me tell ya two times.”

Stiffening his backbone, he threw his head and shoulders back defiantly. “Mava, you’re always bossin’, and I usually do whatcha say, but this time…”

“I ain’t bossin’, I’m mothering. I thought I was getting hitched to a man, but got an unruly little boy. I love ya, Hoddy, ain’t no doubt, but you just can’t take care o’ yourself. Now get on the blasted wagon!”

Hoddy flinched at the force in her words, and his hands balled. “No need yellin’. I’m goin’.”

He obeyed obediently and went to the wagon and climbed up onto the seat, his wary gaze never leaving her. Her shoulder bumped against his as she settled down next him and took the reins, and he wouldn’t even look at her.

With a snap of the reins and a loud command, the wagon, creaking and complaining, jolted over the uneven ground, and melded into the rain.

Adam opened one eye, blinked against the gray light that filtered in then opened the other. Had he heard something? As his mind cleared he tried figuring if he really had. Slowly, sleep rolled back, and he blinked again to help it on its way. Voices, had he heard voices? He tried sorting it out in his head, but nothing registered. A heavy breath made the pain return to his side, reminding him of what he was doing there. His curse came as a growl and didn’t help a thing.

The big chestnut lowered his head and the soft muzzle rubbed Adam’s cheek.

“I’m still all right,” he said and gave him pat on the jowl. “But now I’ve gotta build a fire…. Try and chase away some of this…. When night sets in… it’s gonna get mighty cold in here.”

He leaned his head back against the stone wall, and his heavy breathing whistled through his teeth. He looked toward the opening and could only just make out the sheet of rain.

“If it wasn’t raining…,” he snorted derisively, “but it’ll be dark before long, and we don’t wantta get caught…, so we’ll just wait until morning…, and we can both use the rest.” A harsh light rose into his eyes. “If I’m gonna die…, I’ll do it with my family around me… and no rain is gonna stop me.”

He felt the dark wave coming over him again, and he didn’t have the will to fight it off anymore than the first time. He could build the fire later. With the warmth of the big horse close by, the need for it didn’t seem so pressing. He leaned over against one of the animal’s legs, and let the shadows take him without a fight.

<>C<>

Full darkness had fallen when the rickety wagon clattered into Virginia City, and still the rain fell. The people who were out couldn’t help but look as the big-boned woman brought the team to an abrupt stop in front of the sheriff’s office.

Deputy Hallie Garner was just feeding another piece of wood into the stove when two soaked forms burst in on him. “Hoddy, Mrs. Burkett,” he said as he gave the stove door a metallic slam, “you’re wet through.”

“Where’s the sheriff?” Mava asked as she brought the sopping shawl from her head.

“He left for Sacramento this morning. He has to give testimony at the trial of Wade Jennings for killing that Overland stage driver, and probably won’t be back before the end of the week. I’m in charge until he does.” Then Hallie’s long face grew longer. “What’ve you done now, Hoddy?”

“Go on and tell him,” Mava said as she shoved her husband forward. “You did it, so you tell him.”

Hoddy slid his hat from his head and clutched it in front of him. “I… I… sh…” he stammered.

“He took his jug huntin’ again,” Mava said as her eyes drilled into her husband.

“Oh, Hoddy, what’d you shoot this time?”

“It’s not what,” Mava said through gritted teeth, “its who.”

Hallie’s muddy brown eyes more resembled black checkers, and his mouth fell agape. “Somebody? You shot somebody? Who, Hoddy? Who’d you shoot?”

“All he could tell me was that he had black hair and long legs, and he ain’t any too sure about that…. We went out by Little Bit Creek to where it happened, but we didn’t find nobody.”

“Maybe it was all in his imagination like before.”

“No,” she said as she shook her head, “it happened right enough.”

“Well, if nobody was there then how were you sure they had been or even if it was the right place?”

“I found these,” she said as she came forward and produced the hat and provisions bag from under her apron.

Hallie snapped the hat away from her and suddenly went cold. He harbored the hope that he was wrong, but deep in his soul he knew better. “This is Adam Cartwright’s hat.”

Hoddy went white as milk, and his fingers ate into his rumpled hat.

“Old Ben Cartwright’s son?” Mava asked as one hand clutched the shawl at her throat. “That poor boy you almost hung?”

Hallie flushed at the thought. “That’s him. Now you stay here and dry yourselves at the stove while I go round up some help.” He rushed to get his hat from the hook by the door.

“Hallie…, what if… what if I killed ‘im?”

Hallie froze for less than a second. “I don’t know, Hoddy. You’ve been warned about your drinking, and everybody’s been afraid it’d come to this some day…. All I can tell you is that you’ll havta live with it.” Then he took down his slicker and went out into the night.

VI

Deputy Garner stood on top of a table in the middle of the Empire saloon, men of all descriptions crowded around it. Their agitated voices merged into a jumbled roar, and Hallie had trouble being heard. “All right! All right!” he shouted as he raised his hands.

“Are you sure this isn’t just another one of Hoddy’s drunken wide awake nightmares?” someone questioned from the back.

“Mava Burkett found Adam’s hat. I’m afraid this time it’s real. We’ll head out at first light. For now, though, it’s too dark and too wet. We could miss him slick as a ribbon.”

“Then why’re you tellin’ us this now?” asked a burly miner.

“Because we need to get ready tonight. Britt, I want you and Sterritt to ride out to the Ponderosa and tell Ben Cartwright and his sons what’s happened.”

“Tonight? Can’t that wait too?”

“It could, but we’re gonna be on their range, and we’re definitely gonna need their help.”

“With both of us being on the jury,” Niles Britt said as he glanced at the man next to him, “what makes you think they’re gonna listen to anything we gotta say?”

“Because Ben’s a sensible and reasonable man,” the deputy said as his aqua eyes bore into the two men.

“That was before we tried to hang him and his boy for somethin’ they didn’t even do,” Tall Sterritt said. “And young Joe, with that hair trigger of his, will probably just up and shoot us before we even get that far.”

“I think we learned the hard way that they aren’t murderers. Tall, if it was your son, wouldn’t you wantta know? Wouldn’t any of you wantta know?”

The hubbub died down and the room went quiet. Looks and nods were exchanged and then a low murmur started.

“All right,” Britt said, “we’ll head out right now. Come on, Tall.” He gave the stocky man a slap on the arm, and they went out through the batwing doors.

“Good,” Hallie said as he came down from the table. “I’m going back to the jail to talk some more to the Burketts and find out just where we need to start from. Any man that wants to go, come see me there.” Then he started out.

“Hallie, what if he’s dead when we find him?”

Hallie went unearthly still, and his fingers dug into the top of one of the doors then he turned back to them. “I think we’ll know a man’s grief like none this territory has ever seen.” Then he went out in the wake of the silence behind him.

<>C<>

Adam gradually became aware of his surroundings as lucidity slowly seeped in. It was dark as pitch and an infinitesimal voice in the back of his brain told him that he had forgotten to do something, but he couldn’t remember what. As sleep continued to recede he picked up on Sport’s edginess. The horse’s feet pranced in place as if he wanted to run, but had no place to go, and he snorted and made nervous little whinnies.

“Whoa, son, easy.” He fumbled for the reins then grasped them in an attempt to calm the animal.

The horse grew more frenzied, and the notion darted through Adam’s head that he was about to get stepped on.

“What is it? Nothing’s gonna…”

The low, menacing rumble pierced Adam’s hearing. It was slow to register, but when it did his head came around with a snap. A black shape, silhouetted against the night, loomed in the entrance, and Adam’s heart sped up, and he gulped. He knew what it was but he needed to see it. As non-threatening as possible his hand went into his coat pocket and found the box of matches he miraculously hadn’t lost. His eyes never dropping, he brought it out and managed to get it open. His fast breathing hampered his efforts but he got a match out. Then, in one quick movement, he struck it on the cave wall and flame bloomed to life.

The wolf was roughly a foot away from him, the light catching its wild eyes. The animal had probably come to get in out of the rain, or maybe Adam was encroaching on its lair. It didn’t matter, though. Once again he stared death in the face, and it could fall upon him at any second.

By this time Sport had become perfectly frantic. The sounds he made came from deep inside, and he backed into the wall in an attempt to escape.

Adam’s hand eased to his hip, and he thumbed the loop from the pistol’s hammer. Carefully, he slid it from the holster, the coat hiding his intent. His breathing came more herky-jerky now, making the tiny blaze dance. Then he suddenly dropped the match, grabbed the gun with both hands and fired blindly. And he fired again.

There was a yelp, and the shape disappeared back out into the rain. But Adam kept the gun trained on the opening, lest the intruder return.

Time drug for what seemed like forever as Adam sat there – ready for what would come next. But nothing came next and it slowly registered that nothing would. Finally, he let his arms drop into his lap, his fingers still knotted around the .44. Now he remembered what he had forgotten to do. He needed a fire to hold back the cold, the night, and the denizens that inhabited it. This made the third time he had escaped death in just over a week, and he needed to do what he could to hold back a fourth. His luck had held, but it wouldn’t, it couldn’t last.

<>C<>

It had been a very long day. So much had happened lately, culminating in Adam’s leaving home and Ben just wanted to go to bed and try putting it behind him. He had just started up the stairs behind Joe and Hoss when someone began rapping the wrought iron knocker on the sturdy oak front door.

“I wonder who that can be at this time of night.”

“Do you want me to git it, Pa?” Hoss asked as he came down a step.

“That’s all right, son. I’ll get it. You and Joe go on to bed.”

Ben’s feet wanted to drag as he went back down. He couldn’t understand who would be out in this kind of weather so late. He wasn’t in the mood for company so he hoped they didn’t stay long.

He lit the lamp on the bureau then opened the door. A brief burst of cold shot through Ben as he saw his callers.

“Evening, Mr. Cartwright,” the men said as they tipped their hats.

“What do you want?” came bitterly from behind Ben. Joe stepped next to him. “I asked you want you want?”

“We know it’s late, and we wouldn’t be here if…” Niles Britt’s words died away.

“Can we come in?” Tall Sterritt asked.

“You have no right here and no right in this house.”

“Joseph,” Ben said sternly then turned back to the two men. “Please come in.”

The men thanked him, and Ben closed the door behind them.

“All right,” Ben said with a sharp edge, “what is so important that it can’t wait for a more decent hour?”

The men looked at each other.

“Hallie Garner sent us,” Niles said.

“What he wantta do? Arrest ‘em again?” Hoss said as he stood protectively behind his father.

“No, nothing like that,” Tall’s eyes darted from Cartwright to Cartwright. “Where’s Adam?”

“He ain’t here,” Hoss said as he came closer. “But why you wantta know?”

“Hoddy Burkett went drinking and hunting today.”

“And what’s that got to do with us?” Joe snapped. “He does it all the time.”

The pupils engulfed Ben eyes, and his hands balled at his side. “Go on.”

“Mr. Cartwright, we…”

“We think…” Tall glanced back at his leaner companion, “We think he may’ve shot Adam.”

The room began to reel around Ben and strong grips took hold of his arms. After what they had already been through this was the last thing he and his sons needed to hear. Someone steered him to the tall backed blue chair and helped him into it.

“Drink this, Pa,” Hoss said as he put a snifter of brandy in his father’s hand.

Ben mechanically took a drink, and it warmed his throat but not the rest of him. Then he took another to shore up his courage for the next question he had to ask. “Is anybody sure?”

“Mrs. Burkett found a bag of provisions and…” Tall shifted from one foot to the other, “that gray hat your son wears… out by Little Bit Creek.”

“And Hoddy thinks he saw a big red horse tied to a tree.”

Ben closed his eyes, and his hand tightened on the delicate glass. In his mind, the worst had just been confirmed.

“All right,” Joe fired at them, “you’ve told us. Now get off the Ponderosa while we go find our brother.”

“Mr. Cartwright,” Niles said timidly, “starting first thing in the morning… Hallie and a bunch of the men… are gonna start looking for him.” Those coffee eyes came around, and he tugged at the front of his slicker as if it were suddenly too tight.

“Mr. Cartwright, we only wantta help…. We did you and your family a wrong, but it wasn’t spiteful.”

Joe’s eyes had become green fire. “And this is supposed to make you feel better? Nice try, but it’s too late for that. Now get…”

“No, Joe,” Ben said as he grasped his youngest son’s wrist. “We don’t know how badly Adam’s hurt, and if we’re going to find him in time… we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Ben closed his eyes again as everything he had just been told took hold, and he fought back against one thought…, if it wasn’t already too late.

VII

By the time dawn came, and bleak light filtered into the small cave the little fire had burned itself out. Adam had slumped over against the stone wall in his sleep while Sport stood over him like a vigilant sentinel. The .44 lay between Adam’s legs, and one arm had wrapped about his middle.

<>C<>

“No, Pa, you need to stay here.”

“I need to be out looking for my son.”

“Joe’s right. If’n he gits by us an’ makes it home, somebody oughtta be here.”

“Hop Sing’s here.”

“And what if Hop Sing needs your help?” Joe gently took his father’s arm. “What if Adam needs your help?”

Ben had no choice but to acquiesce. Once they cut through the stubborn he could see the sense in what they were saying. The nagging at his mind – which had been there since the night before – now told him so. “All right…, I’ll stay.” Then he gripped his sons’ shoulders firmly. “Just find him…. Find him and bring him home.”

“We will, Pa.”

Joe and Hoss finished gearing up then went out to where Niles and Tall and the Ponderosa hands waited in the driving rain with the horses. Ben stepped into the open doorway, and his fingers clawed into the jamb.

“Hallie said to meet him and the others at that little bend in the creek where Mrs. Burkett found the hat,” Tall said as he swung into the saddle.

“We’ll all stay together ‘til we git there,” Hoss said as he and his brother got mounted. “And with any kinda luck we’ll find ‘im on the way.”

“He might even be in that little cave where we used to play when we could get away from Pa,” Joe said as he brought Cochise next to Chubb, and his eyes flicked to his father.

“All right, men, let’s go. Time ain’t somethin’ we got a whole lot of,” Hoss said then brought his horse around.

Ben watched in silence as they all rode out past the barn at a good clip.

“They find him,” said a small voice next to him. “You believe they find him.”

Ben looked over at Hop Sing. “Yes, old friend, I believe.” He looked back out into the yard and beyond the barn. “For Adam, I have to…, and myself.”

<>C<>

Adam undid the binding and started to pull the wadded bandana away for a look at the wound, but through the night it had stuck to the dried blood. He tugged at it and the pain made it not worth the effort. Conserving energy, for necessity’s sake, had to be a priority, and screaming used it up so he would wait until he got home.

“Well…, I guess… we might as well get started,” he said as he finished buttoning up, “before time… gets away from us.”

Using Sport to steady himself, Adam managed to get to his feet, and it thoroughly exhausted him. He puffed and wheezed and rested the side of his face against the cool leather of the saddle as he tried regaining control of his breathing. His weak eyes came to the canteen hanging from the horn. Water. A sip of water.

What should have been an easy task became a monster chore as he pulled it away then his fingers fumbled with the stopper to the point where he wondered if it was worth it. Then the refreshing, if somewhat stale, water trickled down his throat and rendered the question unnecessary. He took another slug and it tired him even further.

Tightening his hold on the canteen strap, he took hold of Sport’s bit and led him outside into the rain. The cold of it made Adam gasp and helped to revive his senses. Then the focus of his attention became the creek, and he saw nothing but that. Bad off as he was, he was still lucid enough to know that a man, especially a wounded man, didn’t get far without water.

Once at the creek’s edge, he dropped the reins and fell onto his knees. He splashed the icy water onto his face as Sport lowered his head to drink.

Oh, how good that felt, and he almost wished he could plunge his entire body in it. But all he needed was a chill. He knew the chance remained that he would still get one, but wallowing in cold water would only speed up the process.

Cupping his hand, he dipped it into the creek and brought it to his face. The canteen water had been all right but this was wonderful, and he felt he could drink the small tributary dry.

“Mustn’t… Mustn’t make a pig… of ourselves.”

He filled the canteen and stopped it then struggled to his feet and hung it from the horn again. Now came the fun part, and he dreaded it. Slipping his foot into the stirrup, it was all he could do to raise himself into the saddle. Once there, he leaned forward against Sport’s neck, his breaths coming fast and hard.

“O… Okay…, let’s go home…, boy.” He patted the horse on the neck. “Let’s go home.”

Adam made himself sit up straight, and it wasn’t the easiest thing he had ever done. It didn’t take much of a nudge to get the big chestnut started. Adam knew they were closer to the town, and he would probably stand a better chance in going that way. But that was the last place he wanted to go, even if it meant his dying out here. It couldn’t be any worse than going surrounded by those he no longer felt would care.

<>C<>

Hallie Garner and a mixed assortment of miners, cowboys and townsmen had struck out just as dawn was breaking. The rain, at times torrential, hampered their progress and slowed them down more than they would have liked, but finally they could see their destination.

The little creek burbled along its merry way as the horses came in among the poplars and were brought to a halt. Every pair of eyes went to the same thing at once. Hallie got down and went to where the body of a large wolf laid, its thick fur wet and matted down.

“It been dead long?”

Hallie placed a hand against it. “It’s cold as a fish.” He raised it enough to see beneath it. “And the ground under it is wet, so this happened after the rain started, and after the Burketts were here or they would’ve seen it.” He let his eyes run over it until they found what he was looking for, and he examined it closely. “Whoever did this shot it right in the chest and it looks like a six-gun was used, maybe a rifle. It definitely wasn’t a shotgun.”

“You think it was him?”

“It stands to reason,” Hallie said as his gaze covered the ground around him. The rain had washed away any tracks except their own, and those would soon be gone. Then his eyes lit on something funny, and he walked over to check it out.

The branches of several good-sized trees had grown and intertwined with the passage of years. Running his hands over the spidery growth, he soon found that some of them had been broken, some completely off, and recently.

As the mounted men watched, Hallie went through the branches and, to everyone’s amazement, disappeared from sight.

“Hallie!”

They got no answer, and, after six or so minutes, the deputy reappeared.

“It’s a small cave, and somebody’s been in there recently. Probably last night. I found fresh signs of a horse, a cold campfire, some spent matches…, and blood.”

The men just looked at each other then stared back at him.

“You mean he was most like as not still here when the Burkett’s were?”

“Most likely,” Hallie said as he returned to his horse.

“Then why didn’t they do something for him?”

Hallie looked straight at the man who had asked the question. “I didn’t know that cave was here, did you? Did any of you?”

They had to admit that they didn’t.

“All right, you might as well get down and stretch what you’ve got. We’re gonna be here for a spell ‘til Niles and Tell get here with the Cartwrights and any hands they wantta bring along.”

“Won’t that be wastin’ time we’re already short of? Shouldn’t we just strike on?”

“And where would you suggest we start looking? None of us know the Ponderosa or Adam, for that matter, the way Ben Cartwright and his boys do, so we’ll just find something to do until they get here.”

That was the end of that as they dismounted and began to mill, talking quietly among themselves.

Hallie looked out into the trees shrouded in the curtain of rain. He knew without hearing what the others were thinking and whispering about. He and the sheriff, more than anyone else, had had a large part in almost hanging two innocent men. Granted, they had only been doing their jobs, and they had signed the petition to stay the execution, but it didn’t help, at least him it didn’t. And he suspected he wasn’t the only one that felt that way.

“Hold on, son,” he said beneath his breath. “Hold on.”

VIII

The body of men moved through the drenched landscape like a juggernaut only slightly deterred by the inclement weather. The driving force at the head of it was Joe and Hoss Cartwright. They were on a desperate mission and woe be to anyone or anything that got in their way.

Hoss’ clear blue eyes were set with determination in his face that wasn’t usually so granite-like. Their main focus was ahead, though this is not to say that they didn’t notice their surroundings and any movement. Beefy fingers were gnarled in the reins, and he sat in the saddle as if glued to it.

A dark brown curl had fallen limp over Joe’s forehead, having escaped the confines of his small-brimmed black hat. His emerald eyes, usually warm and vibrant with life and the love of it were hard and just as determined as his brother’s.

The big black-brown Morgan and the spry little paint continued on neck-and-neck at full gallop. The riders coming on close behind them kept up with the killing pace the brothers held themselves and their horses to. At this rate it wouldn’t take long to get to the rendezvous point and meet with Hallie Garner and the others.

<>C<>

Ben Cartwright stood in the front doorway of the big roughhewn log house – a cup of coffee in one hand, the saucer in the other – staring out into the rain soaked morning. He had hoped that it would stop through the night, but here it was pushing nine o’clock, and if anything, it had gotten heavier.

He took a sip of the tepid contents of the cup, though he didn’t really notice, and then stepped out onto the porch. Mentally, he turned back the pages of memory to two nights before when his oldest son had come to him before turning in, and he could still see those dark haunted eyes. Since they had faced death together on the gallows, he had become aware of the way his eldest child watched him. Sometimes he had seen Adam quickly avert his gaze when his father would catch him, and Ben couldn’t understand why.

“You out there with them?” Hop Sing said as he came to stand next to him.

“I guess I am.” Ben took another sip. “I feel so helpless here…. I need to be with them in more than just spirit.”

“You spirit velly strong, not sell short.”

Ben managed the smallest hint of a smile.

“You know why sons not want you go?”

Ben looked around at him with a perplexed expression. It had been more of a statement than a question.

“In case Adam gets home before they find him.”

Hop Sing briefly thought against telling him the real reason, but he felt the man needed to know. He had never been in the habit of keeping secrets from his employer and friend, and he didn’t think this was the time to start. “That only part of it….They aflaid Mista Adam be in worst way when they find him. They not want fatha…”

He watched as the big man’s eyes went black. Mista Cartlight had never been one to run from the truth, and Hop Sing knew he could handle it.

“Do… Did Adam tell you why he left?”

“No, he not tell Hop Sing all on his mind.”

“I want the truth, Hop Sing.”

“You get truth. Mista Adam velly upset about what happen, this anybody see. But you know own son, and you know how him think better than anybody…. You think, and you know why he leave.” Then he took the cup and saucer and went back into the house.

Now Ben was more confused than ever. Had he missed something the others had caught? Maybe it was because they weren’t as close to it as he was and could see more clearly. Maybe… And then it came to him like a charging bull as he remembered the short exchange of words between him and his son from the other night.

“I know better than anybody what you’re feeling. I was right there on that scaffold next to you.”

His hands clasped together until his knuckles blanched as he thought of his son’s reply.

“I know, and that’s mainly why I havta get away.”

Ben groaned and ran his fingers back through his thick hair. It was guilt. Coupled with those eyes, he could see it so clearly. His son was feeling guilty, but, like before, he couldn’t figure out why.

<>C<>

Adam hung in the saddle as the rain continued pelting him. His heavy black hair clung to his head like a shiny cap, and his clothes were saturated through. His fingers had stiffened on the reins and the pommel, and his back and shoulders ached from forcing himself to sit so rigidly. Exhaustion and cold worked against him and made the going all that much more arduous.

Sport plodded on, the rhythmic nodding of his head trying its best to put him to sleep. Adam blinked and shook his head and looked away, but his eyes slowly drifted back.

“Stop that,” he growled. “If you go to sleep you’ll fall off…, and if you do that… you could start bleeding again…. You could lay out here… and bleed to death.” He tried shifting his weight. “You havta get home…. You havta get to Pa.”

Then he felt himself beginning to slip, and his hold tightened on the saddle.

“No,” he said through clenched teeth. “Havta get home.”

<>C<>

The head of every man waiting at Little Bit Creek turned toward the sound of thundering hooves as the large party came through the sheet of rain toward them.

“You made good time,” Hallie said as Hoss and Joe rode in among them.

“We had good reason,” Hoss said as he came down before Chubb had hardly stopped. “So, did you find anything?”

Hallie and the men of his group simply looked at each other then back at Joe and Hoss.

“What is it?” Joe asked as he pulled Cochise alongside his brother’s horse.

“He was here right enough,” Hallie said. “In fact, it looks like he spent the night in that little cave, and killed himself a wolf. I’d guess it came in on ‘im.”

Joe and Hoss’ eyes instantly darted to the corpse of the animal as the crowd of men parted.

“Then that means…,” Joe started.

“That’s right,” Hallie said. “He was here when the Burketts were. But by then he’d probably gone into that cave with his horse, and like us, and I guess most folks, they didn’t know it was there.”

“Well, couldn’t they see his tracks?” Joe asked.

“According to Mava Burkett, it was coming down pretty good when they got here and had already…”

“Washed ‘em away,” Hoss picked up.

Joe suddenly bolted forward and thrashed his way into the cave. He needed to see for himself that his brother had been here. He looked down at the remains of the tiny campfire and could still smell horse, and there were a couple rusty smudges on the rocky wall.

A towering presence came to stand next to him, and he looked around. “He was here, Hoss…. He was here and nobody knew it.” His head dropped as his eyes squeezed together.

“That’s right, and now it’s up to us to find ‘im. So let’s git at it.”

Joe looked at him and nodded.

Some of the men were already astride their horses when the brothers came back out.

“Now whadaya wantta do, Mr. Cartwright?” Hallie asked as he turned to Hoss.

“We’ll head out right now,” Hoss said forcefully. “I figger Adam’s runnin’ on borrowed time, an’ we need to find him soon as we can. We’ll ride in bunches of four or five men, an’ each bunch’ll have at least one Ponderosa rider. We’ll go in the direction of the house.”

“Why not toward town,” someone spoke up. “Since it’s closer he’d have a better chance getting there, so isn’t that where he’d most likely go?”

“No,” Joe said cuttingly. “He wouldn’t go back there even if he knew he’d die.”

“Joe.”

“Well, he wouldn’t, Hoss, and you know it.”

“That may be, but we ain’t got time for this. Now, let’s git partnered off and git to it.”

The rest of the men got mounted and formed into several groups.

“Joe, you stay close by the creek, and the rest of us’ll fan out.”

“We’re still gonna miss a lot of ground.”

“Cain’t be helped, Joe. All right, let’s go.”

As they started on they kept putting more and more distance between them. They had a lot of territory to cover and not much time to do it in. Death stalked Adam Cartwright, and they had to get to him before that rider on his pale horse did, if he hadn’t already.

IX

Adam thought about moving Sport along a little faster, but feared the consequences. As he had always heard, it wasn’t the fall that did the damage, it was the sudden stop, and impact with the hard ground could only complicate things. Still, he was wasting time plodding along like an old man, and at this rate he would never make it home before life drained out of him.

“Let’s give it a try, son,” he said as he gave the horse a lackluster smack on the withers. “Some of the best discoveries come from experimentation…, of course…, so do some of the biggest failures.”

But he wasn’t going to fail…, he couldn’t afford to.

Stiffening his back, he squeezed his legs against the animal’s sides, and tightened his grip on the pommel and the reins. “All right, son, let’s do it.”

Then, bucking himself up for what he knew would come – Adam kneed the big chestnut into a lope and immediately thought of death. His spine felt as if his it would splinter and the resultant agony thought to suck his breath away. This was as bad as it had been to this point, but the upside was that each jolt brought him that much closer to home.

The longer this went on the more he wanted to cry out, but that wasn’t part and parcel of the man they called Adam Cartwright. Generally, when he smashed his thumb with a hammer he would bite his lip and not make one mumbling sound, save maybe for a strangled grunt. And nearly always the tool became airborne, if he happened to be alone. No, as long as he was conscious of what he was doing and had control of it and not it over him, he would hold onto his decorum. Maybe it wouldn’t matter to anyone else, but it did to him, and he always held himself up, even when he was the only one who would see.

Small dips and ruts had filled with water that splattered into the air as Sport’s feet would middle one. For the most part it was grassy here, but there were some barren spots that had been reduced to pure mud. It was into one of these that Sport stepped and – at this gait – a rear foot slid out. It wasn’t enough to make him fall, but it was enough to jostle Adam’s grip loose, which had become tenuous at best.

Adam could feel himself slipping. He made a feeble attempt to hold on, but he was too far gone and the movement of the horse was enough to complete the slide.

When he landed it was like being slammed into a stone wall. His teeth rattled against each other and everything before his eyes shuddered. His head thumped the ground, but it wasn’t enough to cause unconsciousness, and what his body felt canceled out everything else.

He was winded; as if he had run a mile, and so stiff that he made a poker look flexible. His arms were straight down at his sides with the palms of his hands flat against the ground. All kinds of notions whirled in his head, and he blinked in an effort to clear the gauze from his vision. His senses slowly began to settle and reorient themselves, not that they were all that coherent to start with.

He gave a long, arduous groan just to make sure he still could. He turned his head to his left – not a good idea as ideas go – but he didn’t see his horse.

“Now you’ve done it…. If you lose the horse… you’ve had it.” He snorted derisively and looked back to the heavens, another bad idea. “You probably have anyway…, but you’re… too stubborn to know… when to quit.” The little laugh was filled with irony. “I’ll finish… what they started.”

As he lay there looking up into the quarrelsome sky – the rain spattering in his face like tiny eggs – something began snuffling in his hair. With all the strength he could muster he reached up and took hold of the satiny muzzle. “Well…, you didn’t abandon… me after all.” Wrapping his fingers around the cool bit, he forced himself to raise his other arm and gave the animal a pat on the jowl. “Good boy.”

Now he had to get up and get back into the saddle, and this elicited another groan. Trying wasn’t an option, he had to, and that was all there was to it. Sure, he could lay out here and succumb to the elements if a wolf or a cougar or loss of blood didn’t get him first. And he would just as soon become a meal as freeze to death or drown – he’d be dead either way.

“I guess the best way to do this… is to just go ahead and do it.”

Now that he had Sport convinced he only had to convince himself, and that wasn’t quite so easy.

Clamping his jaw against the inevitable, he made himself sit up, and his body screamed at him. It didn’t stop him, though, and he kept going, using the animal as a crutch to get to his feet. Winded, he leaned forward against the saddle and wished he could sleep standing up like a horse.

“Now comes the best part.” Grabbing hold of the horn and cantle, he put his foot in the stirrup, and nothing happened. The other leg purely refused to cooperate. “Now look,” he said as he glared down at it, “this isn’t helping a blasted thing…. The longer we stand here… the heavier I’m gonna get…, so let’s try this again.” Holding his breath, he put forth his best effort, and, after a couple tries, stiffly rose into the saddle. “That’s more like it…. Now that we’ve got that nonsense out of the way… let’s go home.”

Tugging lightly on the reins, he brought Sport around to the direction they had been heading in, and they started off at a walk. Splaying himself out in the rain once was more than enough to suit him, so he would just content himself with a nice leisurely stroll.

<>C<>

What felt like eternity hadn’t even been an hour since his unplanned spill. Monotony and the desire to lay down somewhere – a soft mattress or a bed or rocks, it didn’t matter – and know some peace was becoming ever stronger. Peace and peace-of-mind. Those precious little commodities had not been a part of his life for some time, and oh how he wished for them. He knew that when death came they would be there, but he wasn’t quite ready for that so he continued on. Even after he made it home, he would keep up the fight. Of course, his ultimate fate would be out of his hands, and he, like everyone in life, had no way of knowing when that would be. Maybe this was it, but that wasn’t for him to know, and he had never given up on anything so why start now.

With the progression of the day, autumn’s chill, fomented by the presence of the rain, had intensified and wrapped around him like a cold, wet blanket. It aggravated the stiffness in his bones and joints and managed nicely to combine ache and numb. He snickered at the contradiction as his head doddered, the sag to his shoulders more pronounced than ever.

A deep breath expanded his ribcage, and he didn’t even pay attention to the fact that it hurt, it just felt good to still be breathing. Water had long ago filled his boots and turned his feet into ice balls, and he didn’t even feel them anymore. His hands had seized into fists around the reins and the pommel, and for that he no longer cared either.

He hadn’t completely let go, not yet, it hadn’t gotten that bad. He wasn’t a quitter, Pa was incapable of raising one, and he would go kicking and screaming down that long tunnel. He knew that those he loved who had long since passed would be waiting for him, and he wasn’t afraid, not really. What frightened him most was the thought of leaving his father and brothers behind. It wasn’t that he thought of himself as being so valuable and indispensable, but he knew how Pa would react, and it distressed him. Many times he had been told that a parent shouldn’t outlive their children.

His shivering had intensified some, and just enough to make it border on annoying. He knew his body was trying to warm itself, but as far as he could tell it wasn’t working.

“I wish I hadn’t lost my hat,” he mumbled almost as an afterthought. “But… if wishes were horses…beggars would ride.”

His head dropped again, and he let his mind conjure up an image of himself standing before a roaring fire in the huge stone fireplace. He saw his family gathered around him and could almost feel his father’s warm, comforting hand on his back.

“Home,” he said his voice barely audible. “Home.”

X

Ben had gotten to the point where he couldn’t stay still. The sandwich and glass of milk that Hop Sing had brought remained untouched. For the umpteenth time since his two youngest sons had set out in search of their older brother, Ben threw the front door open and went out onto the porch.

“Why doesn’t this rain let up?” he said under his breath as his eyes traced to the sullen sky.

As he stepped to the edge and looked up into the falling drops his mind returned to that night. In his life Ben had seen and done many things, but nothing had ever prepared him for that. The eternal walk up the scaffold steps, his first-born coming along right behind him – their arms already tied behind their backs. Next their legs were bound, and then came the moment of truth when the nooses were put around their necks. Even through his own fear, Ben had not been able to miss his son’s, though he fought hard not to show it. Adam had never been one to let on, and Ben could see how bravely he was holding up in the presence of death. But then those dark hazel eyes had come briefly to him, and he had caught that glint of defiance, and he knew that Adam would go with dignity.

Ben heaved a heavy sigh and pushed away such thoughts. If not for one young man on the trail of vengeance for the wrongful hanging of his own father, Joe and Hoss would have probably lost their family. Ben took another deep breath. “And I could lose my oldest son now.”

Clenching his hands, Ben stepped off into the yard. The rain beat against him like soft projectiles, quickly wetting his clothes and matting his hair. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and let it spatter in his face. How he wished it could wash this continuing nightmare away. How he wished that when he opened his eyes, his sons would be standing before him, untouched by all this.

“Mista Cartlight, what you doing? You come in house.”

Ben felt a tug on his arm and looked into the round face of the little cook.

“You try make sick? What good that do Mista Adam? Now you come in and sit down by fire while I get dry clothes and towels.”

Ben only nodded and rubbed at the throbbing contained within his skull.

“They find him in time,” Hop Sing said gently and the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Yes, they will.” But in his mind Ben knew there was a good chance that they wouldn’t.

<>C<>

Hoss and the four men with him had just come through a copse of trees and reined up in the clear. Their eyes scanned around them and their ears strained to catch any sound that didn’t belong. There was, however, nothing to see or hear out of the ordinary. There was only acre after acre of countryside swathed in dismal gray and held in the grips of the rain, and the patter of it as it hit the leaves, whether they hung to the trees or blanketed the ground, seemed to be the only sound.

Hoss didn’t want to imagine what Adam was going through at this moment. As his eyes searched before him he tried thinking of better times when he and his brothers were boys. Skinny dipping in the summertime, new baby animals in the spring, the romps among the glorious colors of fall, and snowball fights in the winter. His brow knit over his clear blue eyes. This fall was turning out to be anything but glorious. He tried not bearing a grudge against the townsfolk for what they had almost done, and he didn’t really. He didn’t even hate Sally for her lie that nearly cost his family so dearly. It wasn’t a lie actually; she had simply convinced herself that she had seen what she couldn’t have. And afterward the looks and whispers from those who had believed her had driven her away, and he found himself not one bit sorry. Her thirst for justice had nearly hung two innocent men, and maybe he could have understood better if those men hadn’t been his father and brother.

“Boss.”

But Hoss was far away and didn’t hear.

“Boss.”

“Yeah, Gus,” Hoss said as he finally looked around.

“Maybe we should oughtta spread out a little, but still keep each other in sight.”

“That’s a good idea. We can cover more ground that way, an’ what the others miss one’ll catch. All right, let’s git ‘er done.”

The horses started out again, gradually moving farther and farther apart. If Adam was out here, they were determined to find him.

<>C<>

Joe and the three men with him continued on along the creek’s banks, two on either side of it. They wove their way through the poplars, constantly aware of all around them. The slightest movement caught their attention, but it never turned out to be anything.

As Cochise came to a dense growth of brush, he flushed a rabbit, which shot in front of him. Joe instinctively hugged his legs against the animal’s sides as his horse reared, pawing the air and giving a snort.

“Whoa, Cooch,” he soothed as he kept control of the reins. “Easy, boy.” Joe gave him a comforting pat as the paint began to settle. “It was just a rabbit. You’re fine.” He ran his hand along the slick coat. “Now let’s go find Adam.”

They picked up their search again, continuing as before.

Joe could feel the rain thumping against his slicker, and it felt as if he could feel his heart beating through every inch of him. He wanted to believe that someone – it didn’t matter who – would find Adam before he succumbed to his injuries. They had no way of knowing how serious they were, or if he had been shot more than once. Joe had seen the blood in the cave, and it filled his head with all kinds of grim pictures. He could see Adam lying there bleeding, trying to minister to himself, and being set upon by that monstrous wolf. Stop it, he snarled in his mind. This doesn’t help one bit.

He urged his horse a little faster. This was taking too long, but he knew that if he rushed too much he could miss something, something that Adam couldn’t afford for him to miss.

<>C<>

Ben stood before the roaring blaze in the huge stone fireplace, toweling his hair, and his boots sat drying on the hearth. He had gotten into dry clothes, and his feet were bare. Behind him, Hop Sing bustled in and placed a steaming cup on the green inlay top of the large round table.

“Here coffee, Mista Cartlight.”

“Thank you, Hop Sing,” Ben said as he glanced behind him.

The little cook left him again as Ben finished, leaving his hair in black and silver spikes. Draping the towel over the arm of the red leather chair, he picked up the cup and saucer and took a revitalizing drink. Nothing smelled like coffee on a cold day, and it invigorated as it made its way down his throat.

On the outside, Ben looked composed and in control, but on the inside he was tense as a watch spring that had been wound too tight and could snap at any second. He took another good jolt in a vain effort to calm himself, but it didn’t help. As long as his eldest was out there, possibly shot and no one knowing how badly, and his other two sons in a desperate search, he knew he couldn’t.

The big grandfather clock by the front door struck two o’clock in the afternoon and did nothing to help. Time was slipping away from them, and maybe life was slipping away from Adam.

Ben’s fingers choked on the handle of the cup. He hated himself for letting such thoughts come, but it was a plain fact and denying it didn’t change the truth.

He put the cup back on the table and went to the door – his feet patting the cool floor – and opened it back. “This isn’t helping anything,” he said just above a whisper. “I guess you keep hoping you’ll see him ride in.”

“That exactly what Mista Cartlight doing.”

Ben looked around at him.

“Mista Adam not only one they almost hang, and he not only one it hurt, and if it destroy family Hop Sing have many fliends in Tong. Now you eat,” and he thrust the plate of warm cookies into Ben’s hands then went back into the kitchen.

Ben just stood there as if encased in ice. He had known for a long time that Hop Sing knew and was friends with members of that secret society. And he also knew that their little cook was very highly thought of in the Chinese community, as were the Cartwrights. If Adam died it chilled his blood to think what could come of it, and, Heaven help him, a small part of him didn’t care.

XI

Adam took a drink from his canteen then hung it back around the horn. With a deep sigh he looked up into the drizzle and batted against it. It didn’t really help, though, and he decided that a little rest couldn’t hurt anything, so he leaned forward against Sport’s neck as the big chestnut ambled on. He couldn’t afford to stop, so this would have to do, and it really wasn’t too bad.

The horse’s swaying beneath him and the movement of the animal’s head worked on him, almost like rocking a baby in its cradle. His eyelids grew more and more leaden, and his body was doing the same. His fingers twined in the coarse wet mane, and he barely held onto the reins as his sleepy mind returned to better times. Then his eyes closed, and his breathing grew more labored as drowsiness nibbled at him.

“I can’t go to sleep,” he said in hardly above a whisper and forced his eyes open. “If I fall off again… I don’t think I can get up this time… and I havta get home before… I havta get to Pa.”

He began losing the fight again, and the dense black fans once more rested on his cheeks.

“No,” he said firmly and forced himself to sit up straight. “You can’t go to sleep…. Stay awake, Cartwright.”

He struggled against slumping and kept his head up with a defiant tilt of his chin.

“Need to do something…. Need to…” What? Anything that would occupy his mind and keep him focused away from what he really wanted to do, but he didn’t know…

The sides of his mouth crooked. His voice – weakened by fatigue and loss of blood – rose in song as loudly as he could will it. It would waver and fall then come up but it didn’t fail him. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t carrying much of a tune, he was singing, and it would get him trough this. It would get him to Pa.

<>C<>

As with most teenaged boys, Joe’s impatience and need to do something more than simply riding in a more-or-less straight line was eating him alive. He doubted that Adam had stayed this close to the creek, and he thought about heading off to join the real search with those he felt were getting the job done. But what if he was wrong? What if he was right where Adam would have stayed? With all signs of where he had gone obliterated by the rain they had no way of knowing. Hoss had told him to go this way for a reason, and he couldn’t let his brothers down.

“I’m where I’m supposed to be.” He sighed and settled back in the saddle, adjusting his hat over his eyes, again. “We’re coming, Adam, so wait for us…. Wait for us.”

<>C<>

Ten or fifteen feet were between each man, Hoss in the middle, as they continued on. The rain had slacked off only slightly, and the sky had lightened some, but, except for the incessant patter and the sound of the horse’s feet, it was deathly quiet. They moved at a trot, since any faster could aid in missing something, and any slower could make them too late.

“Hey, Boss! Boss!”

Hoss and the others stopped, and he looked around. “What is it, Gus?”

“I coulda sworn I heard somethin’!”

“Like what?”

“I ain’t sure! One second it was there, another not!”

“Well, what’d it sound like?”

“Don’t think I’m crazy, but it sounded like… singin’!”

Everyone went perfectly still and listened, but all that could be heard was the wind in the trees and the rain.

“I don’t hear nothin’!” one of the men said.

Gus’ face skewed, and he shifted his lanky frame. “I guess I didn’t neither!”

Hoss started his horse moving and the others did the same. They kept to their search for several minutes until…

“There it is again!” Gus shouted with obvious excitement.

This time Hoss thought he picked up on something, and he kicked Chubb into a run and joined the Ponderosa hand on the outer edge of the meadow, the others right behind him.

“Hear it?” Gus asked eagerly.

For a second it stopped then the voice rose on the wind, and Hoss instantly recognized it.

“Is that…?”

“It sure sounds like it.” Hoss brought the big Morgan around and rose in the saddle, trying to place exactly where it was coming from. “Over that way,” he said as he pointed off to the right. “Let’s go.”

They sped off toward the line of pines that rimmed this side of the pasture, the big man out front.

He knew it was Adam’s voice, he knew it with all his heart. “Keep singin’, brother,” he said to himself. “Keep singin’.”

<>C<>

Hop Sing stood in the kitchen doorway watching Ben Cartwright pacing back-and-forth, to-and-fro, his hands clasped behind his back. He wished there was something he could do to make this all go away, but it was out of his power. He had been there when needed, and let this man know that he always would be, but there was nothing he could do to alleviate this father’s suffering, and it hurt.

“He be all light,” he said lowly as much for his own serenity then ducked back into his domain.

The clock struck three.

<>C<>

The riders reined in just as they left the trees and came into another clearing, eyes searching.

“There!” Gus shouted as he pointed off.

Hoss’ pulse tried running away with him. He would know the rump of that big red horse his older brother rode and that broad back and heavy black hair anywhere. “Adam!”

But the chestnut kept going, even though it did prick its ears, and the man didn’t even seem to hear them or know they were there.

Hoss didn’t wait for anyone as he took off at a gallop.

It didn’t take long for them to come up on either side of Adam and keep pace with Sport’s long-legged stride.

“Adam,” Hoss said softly.

Adam just kept singing and wasn’t even aware of his brother, or the others for that matter. They stopped but Adam kept right on going.

“Wait here,” Hoss said and got down.

He ran to catch up with Sport and took hold of the horse’s bridle, stopping him, and still Adam kept on singing.

“Adam,” Hoss said as he took hold of his arm. “Don’tcha hear me, brother?”

Adam’s voice finally trailed off, and his head came up, his absolutely exhausted eyes going right to Hoss’ face. He blinked and it looked as if he wanted to smile. “Hoss…? Is it you?”

“Yeah, brother, it’s me.”

“Well…,” this time the smile materialized, thin though it was, “it’s about time.”

With that, everything gave way at once, and he toppled from the saddle into the supporting arms, and Hoss carefully put him on the ground. Adam was already soaked through so it didn’t make any difference. As the men gathered around them, Hoss finally took notice of the blood on the front of the green coat. Carefully, he raised it and the shirttail to check the severity of his brother’s wound and his nose wrinkled, and his mouth drew in. He looked beneath the makeshift bandage and swallowed hard.

“How bad is it, Boss?”

“It ain’t good, an’ he’s lost a lot o’ blood. We won’t do nothin’ about it ‘til I git ‘im back to the house. Somebody…” Hoss said as he looked up.

“I’m on my way,” one of the men said and ran to his horse and rode out in a clamor of hooves.

“So what now?”

“I git ‘im home, and Gus, I want you to go find Joe and tell ‘im we found ‘im.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“But first I need to git this wet coat off ‘im, and try gittin’ ‘im warmed up some.”

The gathered men watched as Hoss removed his brother’s coat and the remains of the shirt. Then, struggling beneath his slicker, he took his own off and put around Adam and buttoned it. He removed his brother’s boots and water poured out of them then he rolled off the soggy socks. Adam’s feet were so cold and around the toenails had turned blue.

“Gus, git my bedroll and tear it in two.”

The sound of ripping fabric filled their ears as the hand did as he had been told. “Here ya go, Boss.”

Hoss took the pieces and bound them around his brother’s feet, making sure they were tight enough the stay on but not restrict the circulation.

“Now gimmee a hand gittin’ him up on Chubb.”

One of the men brought up the big Morgan while Hoss lifted his unconscious brother then put him into the saddle. While the men held the wounded man in place, Hoss got on behind him and put an arm securely around Adam’s waist.

“All right, let’s go,” Hoss said then nudged Chubb on.

Gus stood and watched as the four horses walked away; the rear man was leading Sport. “Good luck.” Then he mounted up and flew away like the wind.

XII

The rain had finally stopped so Joe knew that wasn’t what he heard. It was the sound of someone riding hard that had snagged his attention, and his emerald eyes came around as he brought Cochise to a halt. As the man got closer, Joe recognized him as Gus Savage, the flaxen-haired ranch hand who had gone with Hoss. His heart rate picked up as the pounding of hooves got louder.

“Joe! Joe!” Gus rode up and stopped in front of the little paint.

“Adam?” Joe said breathlessly.

“We found ‘im,” Gus said with a nod, “back along that line of trees that fringes the north boundary of Strawberry Meadow, singin’ like everything.”

“Singing? Hadn’t he been shot?”

A dark cloud crossed over Gus’ face. “Yeah, Joe, he’s been shot, and it’s pretty bad.”

Joe went pasty. “How bad?”

“It ain’t so good ‘n he’s lost a lot o’ blood, and he was cold as a fish. Hoss has started back to the big house with ‘im and sent somebody for Doc Martin. You gonna catch up to ‘em?”

Joe went pensive. “No, Hoss can handle it. I’m gonna go tell Pa.”

The other men came up alongside of Joe. “We’ll let the others know he’s been found” one of the townsmen said. “You go on home.”

“I’ll come with ya,” Gus said. “Four of us can spread out better.” Then he turned his attention back to Joe. “I sure do hope the boss is all right.”

“So do I.”

Joe gave the pinto a kick and headed off in at a gallop while Gus and the men went to call off the search.

<>C<>

The dreary late afternoon light put the small party of four men – two riding double and one leading a riderless horse – into silhouette.

Hoss continued to keep a vise-like grip around his brother, who hadn’t come to since they had found him. Hoss was eager to get home, and they had picked up some speed since earlier, but too fast could prove disastrous.

“You need any help, Mr. Cartwright?” came at Hoss’ elbow.

“Nope,” Hoss said as he glanced at the man, “we’re just fine…. You two didn’t havta come along. You coulda headed on back to town.”

“No, we couldn’t…. Not yet.” The man turned his horse and rejoined the other.

Hoss grinned furtively. “See, brother,” he whispered into an unhearing ear, “they ain’t so bad, an’ maybe they do kinda like us…. They’re only human…. Just like me…, an’ you.”

<>C<>

Ben heard the horse barrel into the yard, and he almost went into a panic. All sorts of dire thoughts assailed him as he rushed to see who it was, though he dreaded what would greet him.

As Ben stepped out onto the porch Joe screeched to a stop in front of the house, and he was alone, making a father’s heart sink even further.

“They found him, Pa,” Joe said as he vaulted to the ground and let the reins drop then ran to his father. “Hoss is bringing him in. I haven’t seen him yet, I wanted to come straight here and let you know.”

“Then you don’t know how badly he’s hurt?”

Joe grasped his father’s shoulder and squeezed. “I won’t lie to you, Pa…. Gus said it isn’t so good, but he didn’t know how bad. Now let’s go back into the house and wait for ‘em.”

Ben’s eyes darted toward where his son had ridden in then he let himself be steered back inside. Joe had just closed the front door and was getting out of his slicker when Hop Sing came out of the kitchen.

“Mista Joe, you not find Mista Adam?”

“Hoss is coming with him,” Joe said as he watched his father add another chunk of wood to the fire, “and we want to have everything ready for when they get here.”

Hop Sing opened a bureau door as Joe was taking off his gun belt and took out a blanket. “It all be leady.” Then he turned to the young man, and his face went grim. “Mista Adam hurt velly bad?” he asked so that Ben wouldn’t overhear.

Joe went motionless, and the fearful uncertainty in his eyes was enough. “I need to go take care of my horse, would you keep an eye on him until I get back.

“Been keep eye on all day. You put horse away. We be all light.”

As Joe went back out, Hop Sing turned toward the fireplace, clutching the blanket, and heaved a sigh. He wished he could console the big man standing hunched before the hearth. Stepping forward, he hung the blanket over the back of Mista Adam’s favorite blue chair then started through the dining room. He needed to go to his room to light some more incense, and make another prayer to the ancestors to help the first-born.

<>C<>

Ben’s agitation had become almost tantamount to frenzy. Joe stood before the hearth pouring a cup of coffee – which he definitely didn’t want – and watching his father stalk about the room. Every nerve he owned was already at the breaking point, and Pa didn’t help. Holding himself together this way wasn’t easy, but he had to do it for his father. One of them had to hang onto his head, and if Pa couldn’t he had to. The big clock struck the quarter hour, and his emerald eyes rose to it.

Ben stopped in his tracks and looked at it. “It’s after five o’clock. “Where are they?”

“They’ll be here.”

“And don’t you dare tell me not to worry,” Ben snapped as he whirled on him.

“No, Pa.”

Time resumed its lethargic drag, and Ben went back to his frantic pacing while his son watched. Then, suddenly, everything seemed to stop as they heard horses come into the yard. The coffee cup was set down hard on the green-topped table and boots rapidly thumped the floor as they dashed for the door.

Father and son rushed out onto the porch, and nervous anticipation was quickly slaughtered as they saw it wasn’t them. Joe gripped Pa’s shoulder and could feel the minute trembling beneath his hand, and he hoped he didn’t give away his own mounting tension.

“Where are they?” Ben asked softly as his eyes searched beyond.

“I imagine Hoss doesn’t want to move too fast. Adam’s probably not up to any hard riding, but they’ll be here…. They’ll be here.” Joe’s gaze followed his father’s, and his fingers tightened against the strong shoulder. Now if he could only convince himself of that.

XIII

Since Joe’s return with the news that Adam had been found, the time had progressed like a cold snail, which did nothing for already frazzled nerves. Ben and Joe, who had finally given in, roamed about the large parlor and into the dining room like caged animals. On occasion they would pass, but they never looked at each other or spoke. Since the first one, two more groups of men had drifted in, causing the same reaction each time, and the suspense was having an effect on them.

Hop Sing stepped out of the kitchen, his hands biting into a dish towel. He could do no more than watch them helplessly, and suffer the torment along with them. Mista Ben had been this way as the doctor had attended Missy Malie after the accident that would take her from them. Mista Joe had been but a boy, still he was his father’s son, and he fretted and worried for his family too.

The little man shook his head – feeling the heaviness in his heart – then turned and went back into the kitchen.

With each passing minute the silence became more and more oppressive. The clock’s ticking, the snapping of the flames, and the endless thump of boots melded with it to be swallowed into the vacuum. Father and son had ceased to exist for each other, leaving only the waiting and pacing.

Then Ben ceased, and his salt-and-pepper head jerked up. “Please let that be them,” he murmured.

Joe followed after him as he ran to the door and threw it open.

The minute Ben saw his oldest son on the big Morgan with his brother; an involuntary gasp filled his lungs. With a lurch, he rushed across the porch, his eyes shooting instantly to Hoss as the big man slid from his horse’s back. The tight expression his second son wore told him more than he wanted to know. Gently, he placed a hand on one of the long legs and looked up into the ashen face of his first-born. “Adam.”

After a deep breath, the weary dark hazel eyes opened and turned down on his father. “Hi, Pa,” he said as one side of his finely sculpted mouth crimped.

“Let’s get you into the house, and in front of the fire.”

Delicately, Ben and Hoss brought him off the horse and got on either side of him.

“Can you walk, son?”

“I think… so.”

But the second he tried, Adam’s legs buckled under him, and they had to hold him up.

“Just as I thought,” Ben said with a rebuking scowl.

Without being told to, Hoss scooped his brother into his massive arms, and Adam didn’t have the will to object. Joe ran into the house ahead of them calling for Hop Sing.

“Put him in the chair by the fire,” Ben commanded. “We need to get him out of those wet clothes.”

Hoss deposited him in the big red leather chair as if placing a piece of fragile porcelain.

Ben got down on his knees and started unbuttoning the oversized coat. “It’s going to be all right, son. The doctor’s been sent for.”

“Pa, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Ben said and concentrated on his task.

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Ben said firmly, his stern eyes flicking to the wan visage. “Now I want you to just rest.”

“Not yet.… Havta apologize.”

“Apologize?” Joe said, his eyebrows going up in surprise as he removed the wrappings from his brother’s feet. “For what?”

“I was gonna die…. I knew… I was gonna die…. They were gonna hang me…” he gripped his father’s wrist, “and all I could think was… I was glad you were with me. I had no right…. I was selfish…. Forgive me.”

“So that’s what this has all been about,” Hoss said as he stood before the fire warming the blanket.

“You have to forgive me first…. You see, I was… I was glad you were with me.”

Adam went still as death, and his eyes set on his father’s face.

Ben’s mouth turned into a comforting smile. “Now let’s get you warmed up and into bed.”

“All right…, Pa.”

Hop Sing came to them with a pan of hot water, and Adam’s feet were put into it. As the coat came off Ben and Joe were treated to what Hoss had seen on finding him. Blood had seeped through the makeshift bandage. Soaked by the rain, it easily released from the wound to reveal what no one wanted to see. The skin around it was red and angry, and the congealed blood had turned dark.

Ben took the basin of water Hop Sing handed him and placed it on the floor. The little cook stood next to Joe and they watched as Ben cleaned the wound as gently as he could. Pain tracked over Adam’s face, and his fingers dug into the arms of the chair, but he never made a sound.

Ben left the injury open to the air then peeled the sodden britches and under drawers off his son. “Let’s have that blanket.”

Carefully, the warmed blanket was brought around him, and his shivering grew more intense. Ben grabbed a towel and began drying his feet.

“All right, Hoss, take him up to his room.”

Adam wasn’t really aware when he was collected again. He shook so hard that Hoss had trouble hanging on to him, and his teeth chattered.

The family and Hop Sing were half way up the stairs when someone knocked at the front door.

“I’ll see who it is,” Joe said and bounded back down while they continued on.

He waited until they disappeared down the hall then opened the door. Before him stood Deputy Garner and all the men who had been involved in the search gathered behind him.

“What is it?” Joe asked evenly, his eyes flitting from face-to-face.

Hallie slid his hat from his head. “We just wanted to find out how he is.”

“Not so good, but then he’s been shot, spent the night in a damp cave and rode in the cold rain. How could anybody expect him to be?”

Hallie’s face fell, and the men remained silent. “Just that way…. I wish I could stay but I need to get back into town.”

“Nobody’s holding you.”

“I spose not.” Hallie seemed at a loss.

“Is there something else?”

The deputy glanced around at the men. “They want to know if it’s all right for them to stay.”

“Just until we know if he’s gonna be all right,” a slim miner said as he came forward. “We’ll make camp away from the house. We don’t wantta bother nobody.”

“Mr. Cartwright,” Tall Britt started as he came out of the crowd, “we’ll understand if you don’t want us here. In your family’s place we’d probably all be the same.”

The men noisily went along with that.

“What we wantta say is,” Hallie paused and fingered the brim of his hat, “we shoulda known better. No Cartwright ever give reason for us to think they’d do a thing like cold blooded murder. When your pa and brother insisted they didn’t do it we shoulda listened better. I know it ain’t an excuse for what we almost done, but Miss Sally was so sure…. I’m just glad she saw she was wrong in time.”

“And I’m glad she’s gone,” a rough voice muttered from the group. “Save us the trouble from runnin’ her out.”

A jumble of voices agreed with him.

Joe felt more of his rage and bitterness drain away as he looked over the sea of sincere faces. “Well, I… I don’t think it’ll hurt anything for you to stay, but you can camp here if you want to.” The harshness completely vaporized from his young face. “In fact, you can stay in the barn,” he tittered, “if you’ll all fit.”

This garnered laughter from the men.

“Later, I’ll see that you all get some hot food and coffee.”

This went over extremely well.

Joe just looked at them then started to close the door but turned back to them. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Mr. Cartwright.” Hallie said. “It was the least we could do.” He looked at the others. “And I spose we needed to.”

“It’s still Joe.” Then, without further explanation, he went into the house and closed the door.

<>C<>

Ben stood at the window in his oldest son’s room looking out at the darkened mountains behind the house. The warmth of an oil lamp held back the gloom and chased the shadows into the corners. Behind him, Adam lay sleeping, the covers brought up over his broad, bare chest, and his long arms at his sides.

“I brought you some coffee.”

At the pressure on his shoulder, Ben sighed ponderously then looked around at his youngest son. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“I’m not surprised. Since Adam got home I don’t think you’ve been aware of anything but him.” Joe’s gaze turned to the bed. “Right now he’s what we’re all thinking about.” His attention turned back to his father. “Now why don’t you drink this? It’ll help with the long night.”

Ben took it and let the warm aroma waft into his face.

“Pa, I can’t help but wonder if Adam’ll ever be the same after this…, and I don’t know how you can be.”

Ben just stood there looking at him, the steam from the cup fogging the window. “A person never stays the same. You’re not that same man you were when you left home this morning or two hours ago or when you first came up here. Something always happens to make us different, even when we aren’t aware of it.”

“Don’t you think about what they did?” Joe eyes darted to his brother. “About what it did to him?”

“Yes, I do, but we can’t let it ruin our lives. We’ve all been given a second chance, and we can’t squander it.”

Joe stood quietly for a second. “If he lives.”

Ben followed his line of sight. “Yes, Joe, if he lives.”

EPILOGUE

It had been a little more than a month since the good people of Virginia City had nearly made a fatal mistake, and a little less than that since the shooting. For three days and four nights Adam had clung to life by the finest of threads. He had struggled hard against all that tried taking his life, and in the end had prevailed. On the morning of the fourth day the fever had finally broke, and he had started on the long road back.

He had been regaled with stories of the search, and how the men from town, without being asked to, had helped to find him. At first it had been difficult to understand why they had cared, but as his illness and time passed he had figured it out. He hadn’t been the only one to know guilt.

Adam was in the process of buckling on his gun belt when his father joined him and took his kerchief from the bureau and began tying it around his neck.

“Do you know what today is?”

“Saturday,” Ben frowned in puzzlement, “but I didn’t know it was anything special”

“All days you’re alive are special,” Adam said as he tied the leather laces around his thigh. “Even the bad ones.”

“That they are, son, but what does that have to do with this being Saturday?”

“Well, since I haven’t been to town for five weeks, I thought it was about time I went. I thought me and those brother’s of mine could use some time away from our slave driving father.”

“Slave driving, is it?” Ben said with a chastising smirk as he settled his gun belt around his hips. “I’ll have you know that I don’t work you boys any harder than I do myself.”

“Then maybe you’d like to come with us.”

“I thought you wanted to get away from me for a while,” Ben said as he tied the holster to his leg.

“If you’ll promise to behave yourself I think we can buy you a cold beer or two.” Adam waggled his finger in his father’s face. “But only if you promise no talk of brandings or bronc busting or fence mending or work of any kind. This is supposed to be a good time.”

“I think I can manage that for a cold beer… or two.”

“Maybe even three,” Adam said with a sly wink. “Now I’d better go give those two a hand before the complaints start, if they haven’t already.” He took his silver gray hat from the wall rack and just looked at it. “It was awful nice of the Burketts to bring this back to me.” He snorted. “I guess Hoddy feels guilty about what happened, and from what I’ve heard of Mava he’ll stop drinking now or she’ll be a widow.” He shook his head then put it on and went outside slipping into his coat. The door pulled shut then opened a crack, and he stuck his head back in. “I hope you do come with us, Pa.” Then he ducked back out and was gone.

Ben just stood there marveling at his and Elizabeth’s son. He had been blessed when that one was born, and then had been lucky enough to be blessed two more times. But then a solemn light caught in his coffee eyes as he took his hat from the rack. He knew Adam better than anyone, as well as anyone could, and it chilled him to think that this was all an act. He would never forget the look in those dark hazel eyes as they turned to him as they stood on the brink, and it still unsettled him.

With a deep breath, he started to put his hat on, but as he did he noticed a folded piece of paper stuck in the band. Curious, he took it out and opened it. A grin turned his mouth as he read the bold handwriting of his oldest son. ‘This entitles Ben Cartwright to three free beers, one per son, but only if he promises no more neck tie parties.’

Ben couldn’t help the strangled laugh as he shook his head. Refolding the paper, he stuck it in his coat pocket then put his hat on. Adam was definitely back when he could make a joke about such a thing.

Tugging his gloves on he gave a muted chortle then went out to join his sons. They had to get into town.

THE END

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