The Journey

By:  Rona Y.

 

It was day four. Joe was no longer sure what day of the week it actually was; he just knew it was day four of the hardest cattle drive he had ever been on. He adjusted the bandanna over his nose and mouth, but it didn’t stop the dust insinuating itself into his nasal passages. He sneezed once more and then began to cough. He hated riding drag. He was coated in dust and so was his mount, the black and white coat obscured beneath the beige powder that Joe knew – from bitter experience – would be caking his body, too.

 

The Cartwright herd was vast that year – the biggest it had ever been. The profit on this drive was expected to be about $70,000. That was great for the ranch and Joe knew his father was excited about the big profit, but the logistics of getting a huge number of stubborn cattle to Sacramento was taking the shine off for them all.

 

By the time they stopped for the night and the herd was settled, Joe was so tired that his eyelashes ached. He dismounted stiffly at the horse lines and slowly unsaddled Cochise. The pinto was tired, too, standing with his head down. Joe got his feed and started to brush the dust out of his coat. He began to cough as the dust caught in his throat once more.

 

“Here,” said a deep voice and a hand took the brush from Joe. “You go and sit down, Joe.”

 

“But, Pa,” Joe began, but Ben was having none of it.

 

“I’ll tend to your horse, Joe,” Ben repeated. “Go get washed up and have something to eat. You’re tired.”

 

“So are you,” Joe objected hoarsely. “I’m fine, Pa, honest.”

 

Smiling, Ben took Joe by the shoulders, turned him in the direction of the chuck wagon and gave him a small tap on the butt. “Do what you’re told, boy!” he ordered sternly. “Sit down before you fall down.”

 

Recognising an immovable object when he met one, Joe obediently tottered off to the chuck wagon where Cookie had hot water for him to wash in and a plate of hot stew. It was only when he sat down and stopped moving that Joe realised how utterly exhausted he was. He had had early watch that morning and had been up since 3am.

 

“You all right, Joe?” Adam asked, observing the partially closed eyes as Joe slowly ate his meal. Adam was bone tired himself.

 

“Mmm,” Joe agreed. “You?” He glanced at both his brothers, who had reached the coffee stage.

 

“I ain’t bin so tired since… since…” Hoss began.

 

“Since last year?” Adam suggested, laconically.

 

Joe sniggered as Hoss glared at their older brother. Every year, Hoss told them he couldn’t remember when he had last been so tired. Adam always had some retort ready for him and Hoss always glared at him. It didn’t seem to affect Adam in the slightest.

 

“I’m gonna git some shut-eye,” Hoss announced.

 

“Sounds like a good idea,” Ben agreed, coming into the circle of the firelight. “I think we should all get some sleep.”

 

“What about the night watches?” Adam asked.

 

“You go on at midnight, Adam,” Ben replied. “Hoss, you take the 3am shift.”

 

“What about me?” Joe mumbled around the last mouthful of his supper.

 

“You get some sleep,” Ben replied.

 

“I can do my share!” Joe responded, indignantly.

 

Sighing, Ben nodded. “I know you can, son, but don’t forget, you’ve been sick.” Joe had just got over a nasty chest infection and although he was better, Ben knew that he still tended to tire more easily than usual. “Don’t worry, Joe, you’ll do your share of the watch, but you had the 3am shift last night and Hoss got to sleep right through.”

 

“All right,” Joe agreed, as though he had had a choice in the matter, Ben thought, amused. “I guess it’ll be nice to sleep all night.”

 

Both of Joe’s brothers hid a smile at this attempt to prove that he wasn’t exhausted. “Then I’ll turn in, too,” Adam commented. “Night.”

 

“G’night, Pa,” Joe yawned as he rose to find his own bedroll.

 

“Good night, boys,” Ben replied. He was just as tired as his sons and within a short time, they were all soundly asleep, despite Hoss’ vigorous snoring.

 

                                                                *************************

 

Morning came far too soon for Joe, but he did his best to rise without complaining too much and by the end of his second cup of coffee, he was feeling a lot more human. Hoss, yawning widely, joined Joe for breakfast, but little was said. Everyone was saving their energy for the hard day ahead of them.

 

It was as Joe arrived to relieve the man who had been standing watch at the back of the herd that he realised that the man was not there. Cursing, for who knew how far the cattle might have strayed, Joe turned back. “Pa!”

 

“What is it, Joe?” Ben asked, frowning. The day hadn’t got started yet. What could Joe want?

 

“The man who was watching drag is gone,” Joe reported.

 

“Damn!” Ben swore and it was a measure of his anger that he used the word.

 

“I’ll go and see if any of the herd has strayed,” Joe told him and rode off before Ben could say another word.

 

It was quite commonplace for men to abruptly leave on cattle drives. Joe could completely understand it. However, it made everyone else’s job more difficult. For each man that left, another man would have to stand an extra shift without sleep. That everyone took it in turns didn’t make the lack of sleep any easier to bear and if the desertions got to epidemic proportions – as they might – it made life extremely tough for those left behind.

 

It was even tougher for the Cartwrights. As the owners of the ranch (technicalities like the boys working for Ben, and not being co-owners by-passed the men completely) they felt obliged to take on the extra load themselves. Occasionally, that had resulted in one or another of them falling ill through sheer exhaustion. Ben sent a quiet prayer winging heavenwards that no more men would sneak away in the night.

 

It didn’t take long for the few straying cattle to be brought back. Joe took up his position at the back of the herd, wondering why he had done his best to become a good drag rider. It really was the worst position. However, when Joe had first been allowed to come along on a cattle drive, Ben had been determined that Joe would learn to ride every position, so that he knew exactly what each job entailed. Joe was good at each position, but as he got older, he became the regular drag rider. It was a compliment, but one which Joe would cheerfully have done without.

 

To begin with, that day was dusty, but about noon, the rain came on. By nightfall, Joe was frozen to the marrow, his cold hands tucked under the pinto’s mane for warmth. Riding into camp, Joe settled his horse for the night and headed for the chuck wagon. He took the bowl of hot stew gladly, not caring that it was the same kind as the previous night. Five days into a cattle drive, the men didn’t care what they ate, as long as it was hot and plentiful.

 

As he finished the last scraps out of his bowl, Ben came up. “Joe, you’re got first watch tonight,” he ordered. “Fred will relieve you at 1am.”

 

“That’s later than usual,” Adam commented. He had seen the frown growing on Joe’s face and spoke to divert an outburst from the tired young man.

 

“I know,” Ben sighed. He looked tired. “But this way, nobody had to do a complete extra shift. If we make each shift a bit longer, then everyone does the same amount of work as before.”

 

“Makes sense,” Hoss agreed.

 

“I’ll get my second horse,” Joe commented hoarsely and handed his dirty plate to Cookie. “Tell Fred not to be late,” he added to Ben, who clapped a hand onto Joe’s shoulder.

 

“No promises,” Ben laughed.

 

                                                                *****************************

 

Day six dawned in rain, as day five had ended. The rain had kept up all night. Despite his oiled rain slicker, Joe’s pants were still wet from mid-thigh down. He wasn’t alone. Everyone was cold and wet and tempers were short. When Joe had bumped Adam’s elbow at breakfast, Ben had thought the two men were going to be at each other’s throats as Adam growled, “Watch it!”

 

“Sor-ry!” Joe snapped back.

 

“You almost spilt my coffee into my lap!” Adam shot back.

 

It was Hoss who added as peacemaker, in his own inimitable style. “Well, at least yer legs would a bin warm,” he mused and both Adam and Joe shot him a look of total disbelief before looking at each other and bursting out laughing.

 

Both the bickering and the laughter were forgotten as they got under way. That day, they had a river to cross and it was wide and fast flowing. As Ben approached it, he could see that the level had risen since he had had Fred scout ahead yesterday. The river wasn’t too deep, but there was more water, which meant it was flowing faster. They would have to keep a sharper eye than usual for trouble.

 

After the initial reluctance of the cattle to go into the river, they finally had the herd moving forward. Adam went downstream, and kept Sport facing into the current, ready to turn any animal that headed too far downriver. There were some large rocks and rapids a short distance downriver from the ford. So far, there hadn’t been a single head lost, and Ben intended to keep it that way.

 

By the time Joe joined Adam in the river, Sport was getting tired. He had been in the water for over half an hour. When a recalcitrant steer suddenly decided that it was not going to follow its fellows onto the far bank, Adam turned his horse to meet it. Sport reacted sluggishly, tossing his head about.

 

Suddenly, the steer staggered, caught in a slightly faster current. It bashed into Sport, who staggered, missed his footing and went down. Adam was thrown in the sudden movement. He disappeared into the cold water, inhaling a mouthful as he went under.

 

“Adam!” Joe cried, alerting everyone else to the problem.

 

Turning his head sharply, Ben was just in time to see Joe launch himself from Cochise’s back and vanish into the cold water. “No!” Ben cried, but he was too late. Two of his sons were in the water and being rapidly washed downstream towards the rapids.

 

In the water, Adam was coughing, and struggling to make any headway against the current. The river was particularly fast flowing at that point and getting choppy. A splash hit Adam in the face and he swallowed another mouthful of water. He choked.

 

Suddenly a strong hand was on his shoulder, grabbing his shirt and pulling him up. Turning his head, Adam blinked water out of his eyes and was surprised – and yet not surprised – to see that his rescuer was Joe. “I’ve got you, Adam,” Joe panted, hoisting his coughing brother further out of the water and supporting him against his shoulder.

 

Now that he had a hold of Adam, all Joe had to do was swim to the bank and there someone would haul them to safety. But that was easier said than done. They had been swept quite a bit downriver by now and Joe belatedly realised that they were approaching the rapids. Joe’s legs bumped bruisingly against submerged rocks.

 

Looking up to see how far away from the bank they were, Joe saw a partially-submerged branch heading towards them. He felt Adam react, frantically flailing his arms and legs to propel them along more quickly. Joe was knocked off his stroke and the current caught them. There was a sickening impact and pain exploded throughout Joe’s body. He lost his grip on Adam and the last thing he was aware of was water rushing into his nose and mouth.

 

                                                                *****************************

 

Racing down the bank of the river, both Ben and Hoss tracked the progress that Joe and Adam made against the current. They were just beginning to relax when the branch appeared. Suddenly, behind Joe, they saw a large rock sticking out of the water. Their warning shouts went unheard over the noise of the river.

 

Throwing himself from his horse, Hoss charged into the water, catching Adam under the arm and all but throwing him at Ben. Then he turned to Joe, who had sunk under the water, clearly unconscious after being caught between Adam and the large rock. The force of the water had hurled both men against it with a terrifying thud. Joe’s body had cushioned Adam’s.

 

As he pulled the limp body of his younger brother into his arms, Hoss knew that he had to be very careful moving Joe. He had no idea how badly injured his brother was, but they couldn’t leave him in the water. Moving with infinite care, Hoss waded slowly to the bank, where both Ben and a very shaken Adam waited to help him ashore.

 

“Is Joe…?” Ben asked, as Hoss knelt and laid Joe carefully on the grass.

 

“I dunno,” Hoss replied, panting.

 

Kneeling, Ben bent over, putting his head on Joe’s chest. His son’s heart was beating erratically, but strongly and he was breathing. Joe convulsed suddenly and Ben swiftly rolled his son onto his side so that Joe could vomit up the water he had swallowed. Thanks to Hoss’ fast reactions, Joe had not been in the water long enough to inhale any.

 

Rolling Joe gently back, Ben felt his limbs for any injury. There was a definite knot on the back of Joe’s head, but there didn’t seem to have been any bleeding. In fact, Ben couldn’t find any obvious injury and was just starting to relax as Joe moaned and moved his head slightly.

 

“Joe?” Ben questioned. “Joe, can you hear me?”

 

“Hurts,” Joe gasped, without opening his eyes. He groaned and moved uncomfortably.

 

“What hurts, Joe?” Ben asked, exchanging worried glances with his older sons.

 

“My… back,” Joe panted, briefly opening pain-filled green eyes to peer through soaked lashes at his father. “On, Pa… its hurts,” he whimpered.

 

“Joe, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to move you to look at your back,” Ben told him. He brushed the sodden curls off Joe’s forehead. Joe had his eyes closed once more, his face screwed up in pain. “Don’t you try to move; let us do the work.”

 

Taking the grunt he got as an affirmative, Ben nodded to Hoss and Adam, who positioned themselves by Joe. Trying to keep him as straight as possible, they rolled him carefully onto his side and Ben tugged the soaking shirt from Joe’s pants and pulled it upwards, exposing Joe’s back to the air.

 

At once, goose pimples rose across Joe’s golden skin, but none of them noticed that. Ben’s utter stillness and complete silence told both Adam and Hoss that there was something wrong and they craned their necks to see.

 

The skin on Joe’s back was darkening even as they watched. His back was swelling rapidly. When Ben touched gentle fingers to the worst of the swelling at Joe’s waist, the young man let out an involuntary cry. The marks of Ben’s fingers lingered longer than they should.

 

“We’re going to roll you back now, Joe,” Ben said, after a moment, hoping his voice didn’t give him away. Joe showed no signs of realising that there was something desperately wrong. His eyes were closed and he was breathing in short gasps through his teeth, trying to keep the pain under control.

 

Kneeling there on the riverbank, Ben had no idea what to do. Joe was hurt and they were miles from anywhere. What were they going to do?

 

                                                                *******************************

 

“The chuck wagon,” Hoss said, quietly.

 

“What?” Adam snapped. He was shivering in the rising wind. His legs felt shaky and he slid abruptly from his knees to his butt, looking surprised as he did so.

 

At once, Hoss moved round and supported Adam. “Joe c’n lie flat in the chuck wagon,” he elucidated. “If’n we keep movin’, we should reach Sacramento tomorra. Joe c’n see a doctor there.”

 

“If the rain keeps up like this, it’ll slow the herd down,” Ben objected. “We might not reach Sacramento tomorrow.”

 

Impatiently, Hoss waved away Ben’s objections. “Pa, it don’t matter if’n the herd don’ get there tomorra,” he explained. “Adam an’ I’ll keep the herd going. But ya an’ Joe c’n git there, no problem.”

 

“There is one problem,” Adam muttered, shivering harder. “What are we going to do for food if Pa has commandeered the chuck wagon?”

 

“We use a pack horse,” Hoss replied. He guessed that the cold was affecting Adam’s thinking. “The men’ll unnerstand.”

 

“That’s the best solution,” Ben agreed, his face haggard with worry. He had a tight hold of Joe’s hand. “Adam, are you all right?”

 

“Yes, just shaky,” Adam replied. He pushed his dripping hair out of his face and looked at Joe, feeling guilty that his brother had been injured helping him out. “How’re you doing, Joe?” he asked.

 

For a moment, Joe’s eyes opened again. “I’m all right,” he lied. He shivered. “I’m cold,” he complained.

 

“Me, too,” Adam agreed.

 

Rising, Hoss took the bedroll from his saddle and Ben’s and draped the rough wool over both his brothers. “I’ll go an’ git things ready, Pa,” he offered. “Ya stay here. I’ll be real quick.” He mounted Chubb and rode off.

 

                                                                ****************************

 

As the wool blanket was tucked in around him, Joe sighed slightly. The cold wind was no longer dancing over him, bringing goose pimples to his exposed skin. He didn’t yet feel any warmer, but he hoped he would soon. Another shiver shook him and he bit his lip to stop crying out with the pain. He had a tight hold of Ben’s hand and that comforted him, but Joe was afraid. He knew there was something wrong with his back; he had known from the stunned silence around him and from Ben’s voice. But the thing that frightened Joe most was that although he could feel his legs, he couldn’t move them at all.

 

Terror and a spasm of pain that shot down his back and legs caused a cry to slip from Joe’s control and he involuntarily tightened his grip on Ben’s hand. Immediately, he could sense his father leaning over him and opened his eyes, drinking in the comfort he saw in the form of love flowing from those dark eyes. “Sorry,” he whispered.

 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Joe,” Ben told him, his voice a caress that warmed Joe to the bottom of his heart. “I’m just sorry we don’t have anything to give you to help with the pain.”

 

“I’ll be… all right,” Joe replied, trying to smile.

 

His son’s bravery caught at Ben’s heart and he had to hastily blink back tears. Joe’s courage tore at Adam’s guilt-ridden heart and he felt worse than ever. He patted Joe’s shoulder, an unusual gesture from the normally reserved man. Joe shot a glance at him, but Adam was sitting above Joe’s head and he couldn’t really see him. “You’re… wet,” he commented, trying valiantly to sound normal.

 

“So are you,” Adam retorted, trying to smile.

 

“Hmm,” Joe agreed and closed his eyes again. Somehow, the pain was easier to bear this way. Gradually, the warmth of the blanket lulled the injured man into sleep.

 

As soon as it was apparent that Joe was sleeping, Ben sat back, carefully tucking Joe’s hand beneath the blanket. He glanced at Adam, trying to assess if his oldest son was hiding an injury. “Adam, are you sure you’re all right?” he asked quietly.

 

“I’m so sorry, Pa,” Adam replied, his eyes down. “This is all my fault.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Ben assured him.

 

“Yes it is,” Adam argued.

 

“No its not,” Ben chided him gently. “Adam.” He waited until Adam looked at him. “Did you deliberately fall into the river?”

 

“No,” Adam admitted. “But…”

 

“Did you pull Joe into the water, or tell him to go after you?” Ben persisted, not allowing his son time to speak.

 

“No, but…” Adam tried again, but Ben kept talking over the top of him.

 

“Did you deliberately cause Joe to hit that rock while avoiding the branch that you miraculously conjured up?”

 

By now, there was almost a hint of a smile on Adam’s face. “No, of course not,” he replied.

 

“Then how can it be your fault?” Ben demanded. “The whole thing has been a series of unfortunate accidents and we’ve just been lucky that neither you nor Joe was killed.”

 

“You’re right, of course,” Adam conceded after a moment. “I wasn’t thinking straight.” He squared his shoulders. “Trust Joe to come after me,” he murmured, looking down at his little brother with more tenderness than he would usually show.

 

“Yes,” Ben replied, softly, putting his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “You can trust Joe to come after you. We all can.”

 

                                                                *********************************

 

A spasm of pain in his back dragged Joe from sleep. His eyes shot open, but Ben was there at once, soothing him in all the old familiar ways. Joe relaxed as much as he could and lay back down. His legs were cold and Joe tried to move them, but there was no response. He swallowed a sob.

 

“Here’s Hoss,” Adam said, and there was a certain amount of relief in his voice.

 

Turning his head, Joe saw Hoss climbing down from the wagon seat and wondered why his brother had brought the chuck wagon. “Are we… stopping here for… the night?” Joe asked.

 

“No, you’re going to lie in the wagon,” Ben told him, smiling. “Tomorrow, we’ll reach Sacramento and you can see the doctor there.”

 

The fear was back, clutching at Joe’s heart with icy fingers. How could he face never being able to walk again? How could he bring himself to tell a strange doctor that he couldn’t move his legs when he couldn’t even tell his Pa that?

 

Something in Joe’s face caught Ben’s attention and he leant closer. “Joe what’s wrong?” he asked, anxiously. “Are you in pain?”

 

“Some,” Joe mumbled.

 

“We’ll try not to hurt you when we move you,” Ben assured him, assuming that this was what was troubling his son. “Everything will be ready in a minute.”

 

“All right,” Joe replied, helplessly, unable to form the words that would tell Ben of his real fear. Joe wasn’t sure why he was incapable of telling. Was it his pride which held him silent? Or the memory of the few people he had known who used rolling chairs and the unkind things that had been said about them. Most people equated being chair bound with mental retardation. Joe didn’t know if he could face that.

 

“All right, Joe, we’re ready,” Ben told him. A blanket was laid on the ground next to him. “We’re going to move you onto this blanket and then lift you into the wagon, all right?”

 

“All right,” Joe replied, hoarsely. He could feel his muscles tense up in preparation for the pain he knew he was going to feel.

 

“This is going to hurt,” Adam commented, gently. “Could you move your legs over a bit? That would make it easier for us.”

 

“No,” Joe replied, almost inaudibly.

 

“What?” Adam asked. “I didn’t hear you, Joe. Move your legs.”

 

“I can’t,” Joe responded, louder this time. And suddenly the words were spewing from him. “I can’t, Adam! I can’t move my legs!”

 

The shout had shocked them all. Joe looked round at the three faces above him and saw the same expression on each face. He felt a dizzying combination of nausea and relief and closed his eyes to shut out the pity and the pain. Joe didn’t know why he should feel guilty, but he was suddenly unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

 

“Joe.” It was Ben’s voice, as gentle as ever, with no hint of pity in it. “Joe, open your eyes.”

 

Slowly, Joe opened his eyes. Ben still looked shocked, but there was no hint of pity there. “Joe, can you feel your legs at all?” The question was deliberately matter of fact, and no one but Ben ever knew what it cost him to ask it.

 

Swallowing, Joe replied, “I can feel them; they just won’t move.”

 

Nodding, unsure if Joe was just telling him what he wanted to hear or not, Ben allowed one hand to drop naturally to his side and then he pinched Joe’s thigh – hard. Joe flinched and made a sound of protest. “Sorry,” Ben apologised. “I just wanted to see how much feeling you have.”

 

“Surely it’s good that Joe has feeling?” Adam queried.

 

“I think so,” Ben replied. “But I’m no doctor. Come on, let’s get Joe settled and then we can get moving. Every mile we travel today is a mile closer to Sacramento and that doctor’s office.”

 

Before long, Joe was settled in the back of the wagon and he closed his eyes. He was overwhelmed with relief that his secret was out. As the wagon began to jolt slowly over the ground, Joe clenched his jaw against the pain. It was going to be a long journey to Sacramento.

 

                                                                ************************

 

Joe could hear the noise of the herd somewhere outside the wagon. The patch of sky he could see out of the back was dark. A fire flickered at the very edge of Joe’s vision and he could hear the low, monotonous song the cowboys sang to the cattle to keep them calm and settled all night.

 

The sounds were familiar and should have been comforting and yet Joe felt strangely detached from it all. His back was incredibly sore and movement caused all sorts of shooting pains. Joe felt slightly nauseous and had barely managed a few mouthfuls of the meal Ben had brought to him. He was exhausted, yet couldn’t drop off to sleep.

 

“You’re three men down tonight, Pa,” Joe commented quietly as Ben climbed back into the wagon beside him. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Joe, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Ben replied. “You acted with great courage, jumping into the river after Adam. What happened to you was an accident. Yes, neither you nor I are going to be taking a watch tonight, but suppose we’d had other men run out on us? Then we’d still be men down. Come on, Joe, you know as well as I do that on other occasions we’ve lost more men, yet managed to get to market with the herd intact. Tomorrow, we arrive in Sacramento and the men aren’t going to run out on us 24 hours before they get paid.”

 

“Tommo ran out on us yesterday,” Joe answered, referring to the man he had discovered was missing. “And that was pretty close to payday, too.”

 

Smiling, Ben looked around. “I’ll tell you a secret, Joe,” he whispered. “Tommo was only willing to come along if I paid him every day. He didn’t have wages coming; he already had them.”

 

“Pa!” Joe scolded. “You always tell us not to do that!”

 

Shrugging, Ben tried to look nonchalant. He failed. “There have got to be some privileges to being the boss,” he retorted and they both laughed. “Now,” Ben said, as their laughter died down. “Are you going to sleep tonight, all night, or are you going to lie there and wish you were on the back of a horse in that cold wind?”

 

“Tough choice,” Joe agreed. “But I think I might sleep all night.”

 

“Good night, son,” Ben replied.

 

                                                                ****************************

 

Despite Joe’s choice, the night was spent only partially in sleep. Joe was just too sore to sleep for long. He desperately wanted to lie on his stomach, to take the pressure off the huge bruise on his back. It had been marginally less painful for him to lie on his side early that morning as Ben checked his back, but Ben was worried about what too much moving would do and wanted to keep Joe as still as possible.

 

There had been horrible moments both the night before and that morning when Joe had had to pee and the urine had been full of blood. There was nothing Ben could do to hide the fact from Joe and all they could do was hope that Joe’s kidneys were just bruised. They both knew, in their heads, that a little blood can go a long way, especially when diluted by water, but it was more difficult to convince their hearts of this.

 

“How’s Joe?” Adam asked, as Ben joined him by the fire to fetch Joe another cup of coffee.

 

Quietly, Ben told him and Adam’s face grew grave. He had come out of the accident with no lingering after effects and felt horribly guilty that his younger brother was in such a bad position. If only there was something he could do to help, he thought.

 

“Adam, when we get to Sacramento, I need you to conclude the contracts on my behalf,” Ben went on earnestly, not wanting Adam to have the time to brood over Joe. He retrieved the contracts from his inner vest pocket and gave them to his son. “I’m relying on you, Adam,” he emphasised. “As I always rely on you and your brothers.”

 

Straightening his shoulders, Adam nodded. “Of course I will, Pa,” he replied. “I’ll make sure everything is taken care of. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

 

“’Ceptin’ Joe, a course,” Hoss joked, heavily. “But then, ya’ve bin worryin’ ‘bout Joe since he was born!” They laughed, the sound unsteady at first, but gaining in mirth.

 

Finally sobering slightly, Ben looked proudly at his two oldest sons. He knew he could rely on all his sons to do what needed to be done. Despite their worry over Joe, they would act in a professional, businesslike manner and get the herd to where it was contracted to be. Only when all the business was over would they come looking for their sibling. “Take care,” he told them and turned quickly away, afraid that they would see the moisture in his eyes.

 

Blinking back corresponding moisture, Hoss went over to the wagon. “Ya be good fer Pa, Shortshanks,” he teased his younger brother. “An’ if ya ain’t, I’ll turn ya over ma knee.”

 

“Sure,” Joe scoffed, knowing that Hoss would never deliberately hurt him.

 

Adam’s leave-taking of Joe was more subdued, but no less heart-felt. “Be careful, Joe and do what the doctor tells you to,” he warned gently. “I’d like to see you looking better when I see you later.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” Joe agreed and smiled.

 

But he felt distinctly blue as the wagon pulled out and he could see the herd moving in a different direction. All too soon, they were lost from sight.

 

                                                                ********************************

 

The pain was exhausting and the constant jolting of the wagon prevented Joe from sleeping. He kept quiet, knowing that Ben wanted to get into town as fast as possible and wanting the journey to end for his own sake. Joe knew, although he didn’t allow his thoughts to dwell on it, that he might well be making a journey of a different kind very soon.

 

Much as Joe usually didn’t want to see a doctor, this time was different. If the doctor could take away even some of his pain, Joe would bless him forever. Plus, their arrival meant that the wagon stopped moving and Joe revelled in the blessed stillness.

 

“I won’t be long, Joe,” Ben promised, looking in the back of the wagon. “Are you all right?” It was a relative question, Ben knew, but one he couldn’t prevent himself from asking.

 

“I’m fine,” Joe replied, untruthfully, but with more veracity than when he had last assured Ben that he was fine. He was definitely a bit better now.

 

True to his word, Ben was only inside for a few minutes, but Joe was on the soft fringes of sleep when his father reappeared. Wearily, Joe dragged his eyes open as the doctor climbed awkwardly into the wagon and gave Joe a cursory examination. “I’ll get some help and we can get him out of here,” the doctor told Ben, totally ignoring Joe. Joe began to burn. But then, the doctor turned and smiled at Joe. “I’m sure I can find you something softer to lie on, young man.” He winked. “This wagon isn’t the most comfortable bed, I wouldn’t have thought.”

 

“I’ve had worse,” Joe replied, loyally and Ben laughed.

 

“Yes, rock-strewn ground,” he grinned. “Or the time we all had to sleep on mud every night.”

 

“Don’t remind me,” Joe replied, rolling his eyes.

 

“My examining table will be like a feather bed after all those,” the doctor smiled and jumped down from the wagon and disappeared. He was back within five minutes with some men to help lift Joe carefully from the wagon.

 

Doctor Carl Newman was in his early forties, slim, blond and boyish with a great deal of personal charm. Joe liked him, despite his initial bad impression. He had warm, gentle hands and twinkling blue eyes. He asked Joe questions that Joe thought were eminently sensible.

 

With Ben’s help, Joe was divested of his clothes and covered with a sheet. Newman carefully felt all Joe’s limbs for breakage and was pleased to note that the circulation in Joe’s legs was good. Joe explained that he could feel his legs, but that they wouldn’t move. The other man’s sympathetic manner and matter of fact tones helped put Joe at his ease and the embarrassment he expected to feel never surfaced.

 

At length, Newman needed to examine Joe’s back. Ideally, he would have preferred to see Joe ‘in situ’, but quite understood that they could hardly leave Joe in the river for several days while someone fetched him. Even though everyone had been careful moving Joe, there was still the chance that his back was broken. Moving very deliberately, they turned Joe over.

 

It was probably just as well that Joe couldn’t see Ben and Newman’s faces. The bruise on his back was deep purple and black. Most of the darkest colouring was just about Joe’s waist. “Joe, I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt,” Newman told him.

 

The first, gentle touch almost had Joe leaping off the table. Ben hurried to his head, placing his hands on Joe’s shoulders in an effort to both comfort and keep him still. Joe clutched wildly at Ben’s shirt front, winding his hands into the material. Despite all his efforts, several cries of pain escaped his control.

 

“I’m finished,” Newman declared. “Joe, I can give you something for the pain now. Just lie still.” Joe felt a needle slide into his thigh.

 

Moving round to sit where Joe could see him, Newman looked thoughtful. “The good news is, as far as I can tell, your back isn’t broken.”

 

A smile broke out on Ben’s face. Joe looked relieved, but the wonderful, sunlit smile that Ben loved so much was not in evidence. “But?” he questioned.

 

Making a rueful face, acknowledging that there was a ‘but’, the doctor continued. “But – there does seem to be a displacement; a dislocation, if you like.”

 

“And what can you do about it?” Ben asked, his smile gone.

 

“I don’t know,” Newman admitted. “It might just correct itself. It might not. Backs are tricky things. The fact that Joe can feel his legs, even if they won’t move, is good. That suggests to me that in time, his back might just get better. I could try to manipulate it back into position, but I could easily do more harm than good there. I could end up paralysing Joe forever.”

 

“What do you suggest?” Joe asked, drowsily. The morphine was combining with his lack of proper sleep and he was barely managing to stay awake.

 

“Rest and then we’ll see how things progress,” Newman replied. “Your father is going to have a good meal and a sleep, and you’re going to sleep then have a good meal. Tomorrow is another day, and who knows what it might bring.” 

 

“Okay,” Joe yawned and closed his eyes. Within minutes, his regular breathing told the others he was asleep.

 

Moving away slightly so as not to disturb Joe, Ben asked, “If his back stays like this, will he always have the pain?”

 

“I’m not certain, but I would think it likely,” Newman replied. “You might consider taking him to a specialist back East, but I can’t guarantee they could do anything.” He placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Mr Cartwright, I suggest you do exactly what I told Joe. Get some food and some sleep. Tomorrow, we can face this problem afresh.”

 

“All right,” Ben agreed. “I’ll be at the hotel.”

 

“I’ll find you, should Joe need you,” Newman assured him. “But I don’t think he’ll stir all night.”

 

                                                                ************************

 

Entering the hotel dining room, Adam and Hoss spotted Ben at once. They crossed the crowded room, oblivious to the disapproving stares they got. Both of them were liberally caked in dust. Sliding into seats at Ben’s table, Adam slid the banker’s draft for $70,000 across the table.

 

For a long moment, Ben just stared at it, quashing an impulse to rip it to shreds. He had never had a profit like that before. The money would carry them through the next year, regardless of what else might happen. But the one thing the money couldn’t do was restore Joe’s legs, should he be paralysed. Was the money worth it? Ben knew that, to Joe, it was. The ranch was the only place Joe had ever known, and the only place he wanted to live. The Ponderosa was in Joe’s blood and Ben could do nothing that would jeopardise, even slightly, the place Joe loved so much.

 

And not just Joe, Ben acknowledged. He loved the ranch and so did Hoss. Adam was fond of it, but his heart was torn and Ben knew that one day, Adam would ride off and quite likely never return. He dreaded the day coming, but knew that he didn’t have the right to stop Adam from going. Adam had his own life to lead and Ben just hoped that whatever he ended up doing made him happy.

 

“Thank you,” he said, breaking the dense silence that had fallen.

 

“What did the doctor say?” Adam demanded, ignoring the compliment.

 

“Joe seems to have something displaced in his back. We think that’s what’s causing the pain, but the doctor isn’t sure what to do to fix it. It might not be possible, and it might do more harm than good.” Ben sighed. “In other words, we don’t know anything more than we did, but at least Joe isn’t in pain any more.” He glanced once more at the banker’s draft, then picked it up and put it in his pocket. If need be, the money would be used to take Joe back east to see every specialist there was. It would buy Joe the latest in rolling chairs. Ben cut off that thought. He wasn’t sure he would be able to bear seeing Joe in a rolling chair.

 

“At least we know his back isn’t broken,” Adam replied, unaware of Ben’s gloomy thoughts. “That’s something.”

 

“It’s a big somethin’,” Hoss agreed, nodding vigorously.

 

Abruptly coming back to the here and now, Ben noticed how tired his sons looked. “Come on, let’s see about getting you baths and rooms,” he suggested. “Are you hungry?”

 

“Just tired and dirty,” Adam responded.

 

“Yeah,” Hoss agreed and Ben looked at him in surprise. It wasn’t like Hoss not to want to eat. However, before he could say anything, his second son pre-empted him. “An’ I’ll git a snack after.”

 

Smiling, Ben clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sure we can manage that,” he responded.

 

                                                                ****************************

 

They all felt better when they met at the doctor’s in the morning. Joe had slept for better than 12 hours – the most he had slept at one time since the accident. When his family arrived, Joe was lying propped on his side. He raised a smile for them, but they could see that he had had some painkillers, as his pupils were dilated. Adam winced as he saw the bruise on Joe’s back.

 

“Good morning,” Newman smiled, hearing them coming into the room. He was introduced to Adam and Hoss and was intrigued by the differences between the brothers.

 

“How is Joe?” Adam asked.

 

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” Joe protested.

 

Smiling down at his patient, Newman replied, “Actually, the swelling on his back has gone down a lot overnight and he is no longer peeing blood.”

 

Blushing furiously, Joe wished the floor would open up and swallow him. “I really needed you to tell them that,” he muttered.

 

“Its good news,” Newman objected. “Your body is beginning to heal.”

 

“What about the displacement?” Ben asked, thinking that Joe needed the subject changed.

 

“Sadly, there’s no change there,” came the reply. “However, I did have another feel of the area this morning, and I think I could slip it back into place. Of course, there are inherent dangers in that course of action. I could make everything worse; there might be no change at all.”

 

“I want you to do it,” Joe stated and Ben saw that there had already been a discussion between them about this. He opened his mouth to object, but Joe beat him to it. “Pa, I know it’s dangerous,” he continued, “but what do I have to lose? I’m useless like this anyway and I can’t spend my life taking painkillers every day. Pa, this is my decision. I’ve thought about it and I want Dr Newman to do it.”

 

“Joe…” Ben began, but there was nothing he could say. Joe was an adult; it was his body and Ben couldn’t make that kind of decision for him. Only Joe could do that. “I know,” he concluded, softly.

 

“No!” Adam cried, unable to believe that Ben wouldn’t impose his will on Joe. There was nothing the younger man could do, after all. “Pa, don’t let him!”

 

As Joe’s eyes flew to his oldest brother, both Ben and Hoss turned to Adam. They both understood, better than Joe, that Adam still felt tremendous guilt over the accident. “Adam, I can’t tell Joe what to do about this,” Ben replied. His gentle understanding just made Adam feel worse.

 

“Adam, Joe’s gotta choose fer hisself,” Hoss chimed in. “I don’t like it no more’n ya do, but it ain’t our decision, big brother.”

 

But it was Joe’s comment that was the most telling of all. “I can’t just do nothing,” he declared and Adam at last met his youngest brother’s eyes. “Adam, this isn’t your fault,” he added. “Accidents happen. You know that as well as I do.” Joe forced a smile. “Isn’t this the time when you usually remind me that accidents happen to me more often?”

 

“I guess it is,” Adam agreed, finding a genuine smile on his face. “All right, Joe if that’s what you really want.”

 

“It’s what I really want,” Joe replied, tactfully not reminding Adam that he had no say in this decision. He glanced at Newman. “All right, do it, I’m ready whenever you are.”

 

                                                                **************************

 

The operation took place within the hour. Ben, Adam and Hoss were shepherded out and paced anxiously around the waiting room while Joe was given a whiff of chloroform. Newman took a deep breath.

 

Compared to some procedures he had carried out, this one took no time at all. Newman was glad the other Cartwrights weren’t in the room, for the bone made a horrible noise as it slipped back into place. The problem with this procedure was that Newman had no way to tell if it had worked. He went over to tell the anxious family that the operation was over.

 

“The bone is back in place,” he told them.

 

“And is Joe all right now?” Hoss asked, eagerly.

 

“I don’t know,” Newman replied.

 

“Why not?” Hoss wanted to know, frowning.

 

“Joe is still out from the chloroform,” Newman explained. “Until he tells me what he can or can’t feel, I have no way to know.”

 

“Ya mean ya can’t tell jist by feelin’?” Hoss looked astounded.

 

“I wish I could,” came the heart-felt reply. “But unfortunately, the answer is no.”

 

                                                                ************************

 

Over the next few days, the Cartwrights waited with bated breath to see if there was any change in Joe’s condition. The bruising on his back began to fade and as it went, his pain became less. Before long, Joe was managing without painkillers of any kind, but although he could still feel sensation in his legs, they still wouldn’t move.

 

They all vacillated between hope and despair, but none more so than Joe. By nature an optimist, each morning he awoke, convinced that today would be the day that he would be able to walk again. As each successive day passed, and he was still bed bound, Joe would sink into despair.

 

Finally, after a week, Newman took Ben aside. “I think you should take Joe home. There’s nothing more I can do for him,” he said, sadly. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Ben replied. “You told us you didn’t know if you could improve things and none of us hold any blame against you. Joe isn’t in pain any more, and that counts for a lot.”

 

“Joe could still regain the use of his legs,” Newman reminded Ben. “But I don’t know when and nothing that I can do will hurry that day. I think being at home in familiar surrounds will help him.”

 

“Thank you for everything,” Ben replied and shook his hand.

 

                                                                ***************************

 

It was another two days before they set off for home. Ben had managed to procure a rolling chair for Joe and packed it and supplies into the wagon. Joe was more than well enough to sit on the wagon seat beside Ben, although he cast longing looks at his pinto. He was glad to be going home, although he and Newman had struck up a friendship.

 

It was pleasant to be outside in the fresh air and sunshine. Joe felt his spirits rise and he answered amiably when Ben made idle conversation. He was glad for the break for lunch, even though he had to be lifted from the wagon seat by Hoss, for he was more tired than he had expected. Still, he had been cooped up indoors for the week they had been in Sacramento, so Joe supposed it was natural that he should have less than his usual stamina.

 

But it was at night that the doubts crept back. Joe hated the thought of the rolling chair. He had no idea what he could do on the ranch that would be useful and fulfilling. Yes, he was more than capable of doing the books, but how often did the books really have to be done? Regularly, yes, but not every single day. What else could he do? Break horses? Hardly. Herd cattle? Never again. Joe couldn’t think of a single thing he could do on the ranch that would keep him fully occupied. Those bleak thoughts kept him awake all night, despite his tiredness.

 

It was a morose Joe that was helped onto the wagon seat the next morning. He had nothing to say, all his thoughts turning inwards. Ben kept silent, not wanting to disturb Joe while he was clearly so deep in thought.

 

Riding together a little way in front, Adam and Hoss were worried about Joe, too. “It shouldn’t happen to anyone,” Adam declared, fiercely. “But especially not to Joe.”

 

“Life ain’t fair,” Hoss agreed. “We jist gotta keep prayin’, Adam.”

 

“Yes, you’re right,” Adam agreed, thoughtfully. “We’ve got to keep praying.”

 

                                                                ***************************

 

It was a relief to them all to be home. Somewhere along the way, Ben, Adam and Hoss realised that Joe had made his peace with being in a rolling chair. Although he was still subdued – for Joe – he was much more like his normal self and several times mentioned running the ranch from his chair. The quiet courage that this acceptance demonstrated was quite breath-taking and the only way they could show Joe how proud of him they were was to be as matter of fact about things as he was.

 

Only Joe knew how much it actually cost him to ask Hoss to bring round his chair so he could get into the house under his own power. The hands had come out to greet them and none of them could hide the pity when they saw that Joe still couldn’t walk. Joe raised his head high, determined to show them that he could manage by himself.

 

That stubborn pride got Joe into a few sticky situations on the first few days. He wasn’t very good at directing the chair and often unintentionally ran into things – and people. With his chin jutting in that oh-so-familiar manner, Joe set out to master the chair as he used to set out to master horses. By the weekend, he was much more competent.

 

It was only alone in bed at night that Joe gave in to the scalding tears that seemed to blight his soul. He didn’t want to burden his family with his depressing thoughts – he was sure they already knew them. Joe wasn’t going to walk again and they were stuck with a cripple to look after. For all his insistence on doing things for himself, there were some things he couldn’t do .He couldn’t climb the stairs and he didn’t want to sleep in the downstairs bedroom – it just wasn’t his. He couldn’t go into town without help, he couldn’t harness the team or saddle his horse. The list of things he couldn’t do seemed endless. Many nights, Joe wondered how he could possibly go on the next morning.

 

But go on he did, for the only alternative was suicide – and Joe was not as depressed as that. He knew exactly what his deliberate death would do to his family and he couldn’t bear that thought. So every morning, Joe made a concerted effort to be cheerful and managed to carry it off.

 

His resolve was sorely tried on Sunday morning. People openly stared as Joe was lifted from the buggy and placed into his chair at the top of the church steps. Joe could feel his face burning. He had known this would be difficult – he just hadn’t expected it to be this difficult.

 

Lifting his chin, Joe caught the eye of his oldest friend, Mitch Devlin. They had had an altercation several months before and although they had made up, their friendship wasn’t what it had been. Joe was distressed to see Mitch turn his head away and pretend that he hadn’t really seen Joe. Joe ducked his head.

 

Next moment a hand squeezed his shoulder and Ben whispered, “Look, Joe.”

 

Raising his head reluctantly, Joe looked up and saw Mitch coming towards him, looking shame-faced but smiling. “Hi, Joe,” he cried. “It’s great to see you!” He shook Joe’s hand, something he wouldn’t normally do, but feeling the need to make a gesture of some kind.

 

Now that the first move had been made, others came forward to greet Joe, but the constraint was still there. One woman even went so far as to pat Joe on the head, as though he was a small child, or had lost his reason. Hot colour stained Joe’s face and neck and Ben was quite glad when the church bell began to ring and people made their way inside.

 

Pushing the chair up the aisle to their usual pew made Ben even more aware of how much things had changed. People stared openly and he could hear the whispering. Even the reverend gave Joe a pitying look and included him in a prayer by name. Joe was mortified. He had known that the service would be hard to endure, but he hadn’t expected it to be as bad as that.

 

It seemed that the service that morning lasted forever, but even bad things eventually come to an end. Joe was relieved when Ben pushed him outside, although they had to go first so that there was room for others to walk up the aisle. The church hadn’t been built with rolling chairs in mind.

 

Forced to sit on the porch and wait while Ben fetched the buggy, Joe tried not to see everyone staring at him, but it was impossible to miss. He tried to forgive the people who unwittingly made a cruel comment, but there were a few people who seemed to be revelling in Joe’s troubles and he vowed that he wouldn’t be back at church again until he could walk on his own two feet. He didn’t care if the vow was childish. Joe had had enough of being patronised.

 

                                                                *****************************

 

It was then Joe took a backwards step in his journey. From acceptance, he returned to denial, using his arms to force himself to a semi-standing position, only to fall flat on his face. Joe sank into obvious depression again, for he hated having to be rescued.

 

It was only when Joe overheard Adam and Hoss talking one afternoon in the barn that Joe realised what an idiot he was being. “I sure hate ta see Joe hurtin’ like he is,” Hoss commented, as he groomed Chubb.

 

“Me, too,” Adam agreed. “But do you know what I think I hate even more than Joe hurting?” When Hoss shook his head, Adam added, “I hate seeing Pa hurt. He’s doing everything he can for Joe. I know that Joe’s entitled to be depressed, but he’s dragging Pa down with him and I hate to see that. He’s so worried about Joe.”

 

“I know,” Hoss replied. “I hoped ya were gonna say somethin’ else. I hate ta see Pa so low.” He heaved a big sigh.

 

Sitting outside, Joe was shaken. Was Ben low? Was he hurt? Joe tried to think, but he had become so caught up in his own despair and failures that he hadn’t noticed how any of his family were behaving. The overheard conversation between his brothers showed Joe that their father wasn’t the only one who was feeling low – they both were, too.

 

Turning away, Joe wondered what on earth he could do to make amends. He hadn’t intended to hurt anyone and now, with hindsight, he could see that he had been incredibly selfish, thinking that his inability to walk was just his problem. Joe knew perfectly well that wasn’t how families worked. He felt so ashamed that he wanted to cry.

 

Wheeling slowly over to the house, Joe paused when he heard hoof beats. Ben rode into the yard, looking careworn and utterly weary. Joe’s heart smote him and he almost cried out. Instead, he forced a smile onto his face and literally saw relief sweep through Ben. “Hello, Joe,” Ben called, warmly. “Out enjoying the sunshine?”

 

“Yes,” Joe replied. He waited while Ben dismounted and came over. “Pa, I wanted to apologise to you. I’ve been so selfish this last week and I didn’t mean to worry you.”

 

“It’s all right,” Ben replied, smiling tenderly at his youngest son.

 

“No, it’s not all right,” Joe contradicted. “I’ve been horrid to you all, shutting you out and making a fool of myself. I was wrong, Pa and I promise to change.”

 

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Ben excused him.

 

“I’ve been feeling sorry for myself,” Joe admitted. “And I’m sure that there will be other times that I feel sorry for myself, too. But I’m not going to make that my way of life. Pa, I want to find out exactly what I can and can’t do. I’d like to try to ride Cochise. Who knows, perhaps there is something useful I can do from the back of a horse? But I want to try, at least. I know what I can’t do – now I’d like to know what I can do.”

 

Smiling, Ben reached out to clasp Joe’s shoulder. “All right,” he agreed, huskily. “Let’s find out what you can do.”

 

From the barn doorway, Adam and Hoss watched in silence. They had heard the whole conversation and wondered if Joe had overheard them. When their younger brother looked across and smiled at them, Adam was sure that he had. It wasn’t the way Adam would have chosen to make Joe aware of their worry, but it worked and he thanked providence that Joe had been in the right place to hear.

 

                                                                **********************

 

Watching Hoss and Adam getting Joe onto Cochise the next morning was possibly the most nerve-wracking thing Ben had ever done. The pinto hadn’t been ridden since the day Joe had the accident, but he stood like a statue, with his head turned slightly to watch what was going on.

 

Once Joe was in position and feeling secure, he made a chirruping noise and Cochise calmly started to walk around the yard. The triumph on Joe’s face was a delight to see. Obviously, he wasn’t going to be going at any great speed within the confines of the yard, but Joe soon had his mount in a trot and had no trouble in keeping his balance. Looking at him, Ben found it hard to believe that Joe had any problem with his back at all.

 

With Ben’s permission, Joe went out for a short ride with both his brothers and came back looking elated. He had had no trouble riding at all, and his horizons had opened up dramatically. Perhaps there was a place for him on the Ponderosa after all.

 

Over the next few days, Joe went riding as often as someone could be spared to go with him. His fitness improved and so did his disposition. Joe had always been an outdoors type and being cooped up in the house had contributed enormously to his depression. The fresh air and sunshine restored his jaded appetite and he was soon tackling his meals with gusto, another sight the Cartwrights had feared they would never see again.

 

It was almost like having the old Joe back again.

 

                                                                *****************************

 

He didn’t know what had woken him, but his heart was pounding and he found himself straining his hearing. Was that a noise from downstairs? Was there someone in the house? He sat up, still listening. The silence in the house was profound.

 

Rising, Ben put on his robe and lit a lamp. There was still no noise from downstairs, but Ben couldn’t shake the conviction that there was someone else awake in the house. He was sure that one of his sons had got up for some reason.

 

Quietly opening Hoss’ door, Ben saw that it wasn’t his middle son who was awake. Hoss was sleeping soundly, his deep, even breathing filling the quiet of his room. Just as quietly, Ben closed the door.

 

Next room along was Adam’s. Ben peeped in and was floored to see his oldest son was sound asleep, curled up in the middle of the bed with the covers drawn up to his neck as though it was cold. Ben’s heart beat quickened. It must be an intruder, then.

 

Turning away, Ben saw that Joe’s door stood slightly ajar. Fear caught in Ben’s throat and, unthinking, he stepped across the hall and threw open Joe’s door, half expecting to find an intruder threatening his helpless son.

 

It took a moment for what he was seeing to sink in properly. Ben blinked, but nothing changed.

 

Joe’s bed was empty.

 

                                                                **********************

 

The figure sitting by the ashes of the fire looked up as Ben came into sight. He smiled, a rather watery smile. “Hi, Pa,” Joe quavered and had to clamp his mouth shut and swallow hard.

 

“Joe…” Ben started and his voice caught on a sob.

 

Rising, Joe walked the few steps that separated him from his father and smiled up at the shocked expression. “I know, I can hardly believe it either,” he declared, quietly. “I’m walking.”

 

In an instant, Ben was down the last few steps and had Joe crushed in his arms. “How?” he whispered, pulling back to gaze at Joe again. “When?” He shook his head, unable to articulate what he wanted to know.

 

“I just woke up,” Joe replied, smiling through the tears that ran down his face. “I had to go, you know?” He gave a shrug. “I was still half asleep and I just threw the covers back and got up. It wasn’t until I was climbing back under the covers, and caught my foot on them that I realised what I’d done.” Wiping his face, Joe smiled again. “I had to get up and walk about. I had to come downstairs, just to prove to myself that I wasn’t dreaming. Pa, I’m not even stiff – there’s no pain. I can walk again!”

 

“Oh, Joe!” Ben cried, overcome and grabbed his son into his embrace again.

 

There was a noise from above them, and they turned to see Adam standing there, a gun in his hand and his eyes practically out on stalks. “Joe?” he asked, his voice laden with disbelief.

 

Making eye contact with Ben, Joe giggled. The sound was uniquely Joe and had been conspicuous by its absence since the accident. Joe had laughed, but his giggle had been silent.

 

Abruptly, Adam whirled, with an impetuousness usually seen in Joe, and raced down the hallway. “Hoss!” he cried, crashing into his brother’s room. “Hoss, wake up, quick! You’ve got to see this! Come on, wake up!”

 

“Huh? Wha??” Hoss stuttered. He blinked. “Adam? What’s wrong?”

 

“Get up!” Adam cried and practically pulled Hoss from the bed. He propelled his larger brother along the hallway and onto the stairs and there Hoss froze, gaping with his mouth wide open at a sight he had thought he would never see again.

 

Joe had intended to say something witty to Hoss, to make some smart remark, but the look on his brother’s face kept him silent. He simply nodded and watched as Hoss came slowly down the steps, his eyes firmly fixed on Joe. At the bottom of the steps, he reached out to gather his brother into an embrace and tears started to fall. “Thank God!” he whispered in heart-felt prayer. “Oh thank God!”

 

“It’s a miracle,” Adam remarked, awed.

 

“It certainly is,” Ben agreed. He unashamedly wiped away a tear. He watched, smiling, as Adam stepped forward and put his arm round Joe’s shoulder. It was a gesture the older son was unaccustomed to making, but Joe’s reaction was simple. He leant into his brother and smiled up into his face. The scene blurred for Ben into a haze of hot tears

 

                                                                ****************************

 

Dr Paul Martin speculated that perhaps there had been some sort of swelling on Joe’s spinal cord that had prevented his legs from moving. But in truth, he didn’t know. None of the Cartwrights really cared why Joe had got better – it was enough for them that he had.

 

It was a seven day wonder in town, with everyone talking about the miraculous recovery Joe had made. There were changes. Joe found it hard to completely forgive the people who had been so patronising towards him, but his generous nature wouldn’t let him hold a grudge. They had acted from ignorance and Joe vowed that he would make sure he never treated anyone the way he had been treated.

 

But the biggest changes were to Joe himself. The journey he had been forced to embark upon had taught him some lessons, mostly about himself. Joe could, like everyone, be selfish, but he was much more aware of everyone else’s feelings, too. He had taken some big steps to maturity and learned a lot about himself.

 

On the Sunday morning, Joe went to church with his family. He was slightly ashamed of the vow he had made to himself, but he had kept it. He hadn’t been back in the church since that first day. Joe was no less aware of the staring now than he had been then and it annoyed him.

 

During the service, it occurred to Joe that most of the people had acted out of ignorance. He could explain to them what it was like to be stared at and talked down to. He knew he would have to be careful how he phrased his comments, but this was something positive he could take from his experiences. He could educate others in dealing with those in rolling chairs.

 

Joe was never to know if his gentle preaching had an effect on the people he talked to, but it was something he did all his life. It reflected, too, what Ben Cartwright had taught his boys – it didn’t matter what the other person looked like; what colour, race or creed they were from. It was what was in the person’s heart that mattered.

 

Watching Joe walking about was something that Ben would never take for granted again. He would forever cherish the memory of finding Joe that night. Miracles didn’t always happen with a fanfare and flourish. The best miracles happened quietly when nobody was looking, using commonplace things. Perhaps, Ben mused, he had once entertained an angel, unawares.

 

 

The End

 

 

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