DISCLAIMER: These characters are not my creation and I intend no disrespect to their creators. I have submitted this story, which is my creation, for the enjoyment of “Bonanza” fans here but please do not redistribute it.

“A Strong Man’s Fear”

Adam Cartwright felt for the tree trunk with his left foot and when he kicked it, he hooked a boot around it. He refused to take his eyes off his father’s face.

Ben Cartwright was gripping a tree root on the muddy bank with one hand and Adam’s hand with the other. His face bore a muddy streak on one cheek. The look in his eyes wasn’t panic or horror: Ben seemed to reserve that for when his sons were in peril. It was more like resignation.

“Hang on, Pa!” Adam said with determination. “Can you get some purchase on the bank with your feet?”

Ben carefully craned his neck to one side and looked down. Below the sheer drop-off, there was only the white, frothy water of the river, high with spring runoff. Lacy edgings of ice still clung to the banks on both sides.

“It’s too slick, son. I can’t help you at all.” Ben’s voice was grave.

“Give me a minute, Pa, and I’ll try again.” The strain was showing in Adam’s face.

“Listen to me, Adam.” Ben’s voice was strong and serious. “You can’t do it. I want you to promise me when I fall, you won’t come in after me.”

“Pa! Don’t talk like that. You’re gonna make it.”

“No … I’m not. Now promise.”

Adam looked into his father’s deep brown eyes. This couldn’t be the last time he’d see them. It just couldn’t.

He looked down at the white-knuckle grip his father held on the tree root. Now that he had his boot hooked around the tree trunk, Adam let go of his grip on the branch and grabbed his father’s other wrist.

But as soon as he did, he began to feel his father’s hand slipping from his grasp.

“Promise me now, Adam!” Ben demanded.

“OK, Pa, I promise. But you’re not going anywhere!”

As soon as those words were out of Adam’s mouth, one of Ben’s hands slipped totally from his grasp.

“Pa! Hang on!” Adam reached as far as he could for his father’s hand, but now the other hand was starting to slip as well.

Adam was nearly frantic now as his father’s hand continued its seeming inexorable slide through his fingers. There was no time for more words.

And before he had the chance to think another thought, Ben’s fingers slid the rest of the way and he fell – slowly, slowly – to the icy water below.

“Oh god! Pa!” Adam screamed, a husky, throat-ripping sound that ended in a sob. He watched in disbelief as his father hit the water.

Adam watched as Ben struggled a bit, trying to swim toward shore. His heavy coat – and perhaps the extreme cold – made that pointless.

Adam’s first reaction was to go right in after him, but remembering what he’d promised his father, he dug his fingers into the muddy bank, feeling the cold soil painfully pack into the skin under his nails, and just watched. It took everything he had in his head to keep from following his heart and trying to save his father.

Ben drifted slowly and Adam thought that was so strange, given the churning, white-capped current of the river. Adam knew if he went in, they’d both die and he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Joe and Hoss alone, having lost both their father and their oldest brother. But still he had to fight the urge to be with his father in Ben’s last moments.

He watched as Ben began to slowly slip downstream. His father’s face was turned toward the bank now, and Adam saw that he looked calm. “My god, how can he be moving so slowly?” he thought to himself.

And then his resolve broke and he began to cry, quietly at first. But as his father drifted agonizingly slowly downriver, always facing the bank and looking placidly at his son, Adam let loose with his first real sobs.

“Pa!” he screamed hoarsely again and again. And then his father’s face passed from view.

~~~

Hoss Cartwright opened his eyes and drew in a quick breath, as if he’d been startled awake. He always felt slightly disoriented when he awoke in the middle of the night and, although he realized quickly that it was still night and he was in his bedroom, he was sure it had been a noise that had woken him. But now he heard just silence in their big log house.

Hoss rubbed one hand across his face, shoved himself up on both elbows, cocked his head toward his door and held his breath so he could listen more intently. There – he heard it again. It sounded like someone trying to call out with a hand over his mouth.

Hoss immediately threw back his bedclothes and swung his legs over the side. He didn’t bother with slippers, but when his bare feet hit the icy floor, he gasped a little, even while moving quickly to the doorway and out into the hall.

The sound was more constant now and Hoss knew right where it was coming from. He was attuned to the nighttime voices of his brothers and didn’t have a bit of trouble figuring out who was making the muffled sounds he was hearing. He didn’t hesitate but opened the door to Adam’s room and entered.

Hoss crossed the room quickly when he saw Adam in the bed, curled on his side. In the dim blue light of the full moon that shone through Adam’s window, he could see the muscles in his brother’s throat working. The only sounds coming out were strangled partial sobs; no wonder he had thought they were muffled by a pillow or blanket. Poor fella, Hoss thought, must be havin’ a whopper of a nightmare this time.

As he leaned over, peering more closely at Adam, he noted the white knuckles of his older brother’s hand and his fingers digging deeply into the feather mattress.

“Adam,” Hoss said quietly, his fingertips resting on his brother’s bare shoulder to gently shake him out of his dream. “Wake up now … c’mon.”

Adam’s eyes opened all at once as his fingers clutched convulsively at the mattress one last time and he uttered a sound that didn’t resemble any word Hoss had ever heard. Poor ol’ Adam looked bewildered and swallowed hard several times, almost like he was gasping for air.

“Adam? Ya OK?” Hoss took his hand off his brother’s shoulder and, giving his brother’s blanket-covered legs a firm shove, perched on the edge of the bed. Hoss waited for the realization and recognition in Adam to nudge aside the fog of sleep.

Hoss reached over to the bedside table for a match. He fumbled with it briefly and it scampered through his fingers and down to the floor where it disappeared under the bed. “Doggone,” Hoss muttered, disgusted with himself, and reached for another. Keeping a firm grip this time, he flicked the head with his thumbnail and snapped the wooden match alight. He touched the small flame to the wick of the bedside lamp and just as the lighting of the lamp filled the room with a soft yellow glow, the doubt and fear in Adam’s eyes were replaced with questions.

In the light, Hoss could now see Adam’s eyes, just the slightest bit red-rimmed, seemed awful shiny. And as he returned the gaze, Adam must have seen something in Hoss’ eyes because he rolled over to face away from his brother and quickly wiped at his face with the back of his hand.

“What was ya dreamin’ about, Adam?” Hoss asked. He once more dropped a sympathetic hand on Adam’s bare shoulder.

Adam took in and then blew out a deep breath. He rolled back toward his brother and began shoving himself up to a sitting position, the heel of one hand slipping against the bedsheet before he caught himself, and finally rested his back against the headboard. He looked at his younger brother and rolled his eyes, a familiar gesture which told Hoss Adam was feeling sheepish but relieved that his nightmare had woken him and brought him into the room. Adam gave Hoss a wry smile before using his forearm to wipe away the sweat that had beaded on his forehead. Through all this, Hoss waited patiently for his brother’s response.

“Same ol’ thing – it was about Pa,” Adam said and paused. He swallowed hard at the memory of his nightmare. It had seemed so real, his heart was just now starting to settle down from the frantic pounding it had been doing as Hoss had shaken him awake.

He scrubbed a hand over his face once more, feeling the rough stubble he’d be shaving off in just a few more hours. Hoss didn’t say a word – just gave his brother’s shoulder another gentle squeeze.

“He fell over a muddy ledge into a river,” Adam finally continued, “and I … I couldn’t save him.” He ground his knuckle against his front teeth as he looked at Hoss and then looked away.

“I had hold of him and then he just slipped through my fingers,” he finally finished and stopped abruptly, the ache in his throat just about making it impossible to get more words out anyway.

Hoss saw Adam’s hand clutch absently at the bedclothes and his face softened. “That’s pure awful, Adam. But it was just a dream – you know that.” He couldn’t imagine much worse than the death of their father and these dreams of Adam’s were all the closer he wanted to get to that notion.

“I know, Hoss, but it was so … so sad,” Adam began and then stopped once more to swallow hard. “He was in the water and it was really rough but he looked so calm.” Hoss saw his brother give a little shudder at the memory of their father’s face as he floated slowly away in the current, though the river was raging all around him.

Hoss looked thoughtfully at his brother’s agitated face and restless body for another few seconds before standing and picking up Adam’s black pants that he had slung across the back of his desk chair the night before. He held them out to his brother and said, “Put these on and let’s go see Pa.”

“What?” Adam looked up at Hoss with a slightly bewildered look on his face.

“Aww Adam. Ya know you’ll feel better if ya see him for yourself. C’mon now.”

Adam looked at Hoss for a long time and Hoss looked right back at him, holding his pants out to him.

“You’re right,” Adam said in surrender, as he threw the bedclothes back, swung his legs over the side of the bed and, still a little shaky, reached for his pants. “Darned if you aren’t right,” he added with a grin.

Hoss grinned back at his brother. “You aren’t the only one who can be right, ya know.”

“I know, I know.” Adam finished buttoning his fly and then, reaching for his black shirt, slipped that on as well, leaving it unbuttoned. He was mildly embarrassed to have to go visit his father’s room in the middle of the night, but no one understood him like Hoss did. This was a ritual they had completed many times as boys when they had shared a bedroom, though usually it was Adam waking Hoss from a bad dream. Hoss knew that Adam would not sleep again this night if he didn’t at least look at his father.

The two walked on bare feet to the hallway, Hoss pausing to fetch the lit lamp from the bedside table. Once outside their father’s door, Hoss opened it and then stood aside for Adam to enter. Hoss set the lamp on the hallway floor and followed his brother into the room.

The soft, dim glow from the hall barely illuminated Ben’s room, and surely cast more shadows than it dispelled. But it was enough so Adam could see his father’s face and that’s all he really needed: Something to wipe from his mind the dream image of Ben’s sad but calm face moving slowly away from him.

Adam approached the bed and stood staring down at his father’s face, the harsh lines of the long work day smoothed out by sleep. He raised his hand as if to touch him but paused: He had no wish to interrupt his father’s night’s sleep as well. “Might as well get Joe in here and we’ll just have a midnight party,” he thought with disgust.

But Hoss read his thoughts, as he often did, and he knew Adam had to finish what he’d started if he was to have any rest tonight. “Go ahead and touch ’im. It’ll make ’im seem more real to ya,” he whispered quietly from near the door where he stood.

With his hand still raised, he glanced back at his younger brother and gave him a weak smile. It was heartening to have a brother who knew him so well, but a little disconcerting as well for someone who worked so hard to keep all his thoughts and feelings hidden. He turned back to the bed and placed his hand gently on his father’s shoulder.

Ben’s nearly black eyes opened immediately and the confusion in them was fleeting. When he saw it was Adam at his bedside, he knew why his oldest was there and why he’d woken him.

“Bad dream, son?” he asked in a sleep-thickened voice, taking note of Hoss standing behind his brother. Ben snaked one large hand out from under the bedclothes and gave Adam’s hand a strong squeeze of reassurance.

Adam nodded but made no other reply.

“I’m fine, son. You can go back to sleep,” Ben said drowsily and within seconds was breathing deeply and evenly once more.

Adam looked around at Hoss and grinned. Hoss smiled back, nodding. “See there? Pa didn’t mind a bit. Not like we ain’t done this before.”

Adam walked back toward the door, yawning, and whispered, “Yeah, but I’ll bet he thought he was done with this sorta thing when Joe left off bein’ a kid.” Adam shook his head and walked past Hoss back into the hall. His brother had been right, though: Seeing – and touching – his father had had a sedating effect on him. He felt sleepy once more.

Hoss bent to pick up the lamp and said, “Somethin’ tells me Pa just might kinda like it, though.” He slung an arm over Adam’s shoulder as they walked down the hall to their rooms. When they reached Adam’s room, he turned to go in but paused, one hand on the door frame and turned back to face his brother.

“Hoss?” Adam looked in the general direction of his brother’s face, his gaze actually going somewhere off over Hoss’ shoulder. “I …” he began and stopped. He then focused intently on Hoss’ ice-blue eyes and smiled helplessly. He shrugged.

Hoss gave a low, throaty chuckle, mindful of his younger brother sleeping just beyond the closed door opposite them. “Awwww heck, Adam.” Hoss scratched absently with two fingers at a tangle of chest hair where two of his nightshirt buttons were open. “We don’t need no words, do we?” He looked at his brother with a wide grin.

Adam laughed and then said, “How about just one then?”

Hoss’ grin grew wider. “What’s that?”

Adam leaned his shoulder on the door frame, arms crossed over his open shirt.

“Thanks.”