Leaving
By: Rona Y.
“Joe?”
The voice was soft and the only one that Joe didn’t want to hear. He stayed
silent, hunched up in the nest of straw that he had made for himself in the hay
loft.
“Joe?
I’m not going to go away until you talk to me.” The voice was nearer now.
“Leave
me alone, Adam,” Joe replied, wearily. He didn’t raise his eyes to see his
brother climbing into the loft.
“Why
are you hiding up here?” Adam asked, sitting down on the nearest hay bale. He
glanced around, memories overwhelming him. Joe had often retreated to the
hayloft when he was a child.
“Who
says I’m hiding?” Joe shot back. He still hadn’t looked at Adam.
“I
do.” Adam had decided he wasn’t going to back away from this confrontation.
“You know I’m leaving later today.”
“And?”
“Come
on, Joe!” The impatience that Adam so often had to stifle when dealing with his
younger brother broke through Adam’s calm demeanour. “Talk to me. Why are you
hiding up here?”
“I
just needed some space,” Joe replied. He shifted so that he could see Adam’s
face. “I couldn’t bear looking at Pa trying to be cheerful and supportive and
failing.”
Stung,
Adam flinched. “Pa isn’t failing. He is being cheerful and supportive.” He
spoke defensively.
“Yeah,
whatever,” Joe replied, off-handedly. He wondered how Adam could not see that
Ben’s heart was breaking at the thought of his oldest son leaving for an
indefinite amount of time. The patriarch of the Ponderosa was determined that
Adam would not see the pain his leaving was causing, but, to Joe at least, he
was failing dismally.
“Why
are you so against me leaving?” Adam asked. “I left before, to go to college.
You didn’t object then.”
“Didn’t
I?” Joe replied. “I bawled my eyes out. How does that count as not objecting?”
“You
were a child,” Adam responded dismissively. “You didn’t understand that I’d
come back. It was too soon after your mother’s death for you to believe that.”
“I
didn’t want you to leave then and I don’t want you to leave now,” Joe admitted
quietly. “Because its different this time, isn’t it, Adam?”
Frowning,
Adam met Joe’s green eyes. “Different how?” he asked. “I don’t see the
difference.”
Sighing,
Joe rose and walked over to the ladder and began to descend. Adam looked
surprised, but followed Joe, who went over to his horse and began to groom him,
although Cochise had had a thorough grooming the night before. The silence
stretched out between the brothers until Adam broke it. “Joe? What difference
do you see?”
Pausing,
Joe looked round at his brother. The pinto nudged Joe’s arm and he
automatically stroked the mole-soft nose without being aware of it. “You don’t
need me to tell you that,” he responded.
Sighing
with exasperation, Adam fought to keep control of his temper. “Obviously I do,”
he answered shortly. “Because I haven’t got the least idea what you’re talking
about.”
“I’m
talking about the fact you’re not coming back this time!” Joe snapped. “What
did you think I was talking about? You aren’t going away for just four years,
are you? You don’t intend to ever come home again, do you?”
Staggered
by the accusations and the venom in his youngest brother’s voice, Adam took a
step backwards. He felt confused. “I don’t know how long I’ll be away,” he
admitted at last. “But I will come back again.”
Resuming
his steady brushing of Cochise’s coat, Joe felt suddenly weary. Adam didn’t
know, he realised. Adam thought that he was going away for a short time and
would eventually come home again. Joe, on the other hand, was absolutely sure
that Adam would never come back. Adam had been getting more and more restless
and unsettled on the Ponderosa and Joe had thought his brother would leave
after that dreadful time when Adam had accidentally shot him. But Adam had
stayed and Joe had begun to hope that he would stay forever.
Then
had come the shock, as over dinner one night, Adam announced that he wanted to
leave, to explore the world. There had been a resounding silence, as none of
the others had known what to say. Eventually, Ben had found his voice. “When
are you thinking of going?” he’d asked, his voice admirably calm. “And how long
for?”
“I
want to go as soon as possible,” Adam replied. “I thought maybe next month,
when we’ve finished moving the herd to winter pasture.” He smiled at Ben.
“How
long are you going for?” Ben asked again.
“I’m
not sure,” Adam admitted. “I just need to get away – to do other things. I need
a change.”
There
was nothing Ben could say. He had always told his sons that the Ponderosa was
their home, not their prison and he knew that Adam hankered after things not
readily available in Nevada. He had known that, but he had hoped that Adam’s
time at college would have satisfied his wanderlust.
Now,
the leaving day had come and Joe wondered how Adam couldn’t see that Ben was
hurting. How they were all hurting. Hoss, the middle son, had said less than
any of them on the subject, but Joe knew that Hoss was hurting, too.
“You’re
fooling yourself, Adam,” Joe sighed. “You aren’t ever going to come back, are
you? Or if you do, it won’t be to stay here.”
“Look,
Joe, its winter. You know we aren’t busy in winter,” Adam responded.
“I’m
not talking about the work.” Joe put down his brush and left Cochise’s stall.
“We’ll manage, the same as we always manage. I’m talking about the big wide
world out there. You’re going to be so busy exploring it that you won’t
remember us. You’ll gradually forget that you have a home and a family here.”
“I
would never do that!” Adam objected, hurt.
“Not
intentionally,” Joe agreed. “But as time passes and the distance grows, you
will. Oh, not to hurt us, but we’ll seem distant, like the memories you have of
your time at college.” He shrugged. “That’s why I was hiding, Adam. Because I
wasn’t sure how to face the truth. You’re leaving and not coming back.” He
turned and walked away.
Stunned,
Adam was unable to follow. Was Joe right? Was he really leaving, never to come
back again? Adam didn’t know. He did know that he needed to get away, for the
sake of his own sanity. The ranch had become a trap for him. Getting up each
morning had become harder and harder. He took no joy from his life. Telling Ben
that he was leaving had lifted a huge weight from his shoulders. He was sure
that the decision he was making was the right one for him.
“And
if its not,” he told his horse, Sport, “I can always come back again.” He
patted the chestnut nose and left the barn, not realising that his words had
suggested that he wasn’t really thinking of coming home. He had almost stopped
thinking of the ranch as his home, as another way of making the parting easier.
********************************
Now
that the moment was almost here, Adam was feeling a touch of uncertainty. He
knew that he couldn’t stay at the ranch any longer, but seeing the sudden
sadness that his father was unable to hide, Adam felt a pang of conscience. Was
Joe right? Did Ben really not want him to leave?
“Do
you have everything you’ll need to begin with?” Ben asked.
“Yes,
I have everything,” Adam replied. He glanced down the street, hoping that the
stage would arrive. Beside him, his trunk was sitting, packed with the clothes
he hadn’t worn often since returning from college. In the bag he would take on
the stage, Adam had his gun, but he didn’t really think he would need it. He
had debated leaving it behind, along with the worn black work clothes he never
wanted to see again, but had decided that perhaps there might be a situation
when he might need it.
There
was the stage. Adam’s excitement communicated itself to the others. Joe was
standing behind the family, and he felt a deep sense of sadness. Hoss’ massive
shoulders were slumped and Ben looked – the word startled Joe, for he had never
thought of their father in that light before – Ben looked old. The family
circle was once more going to be fractured beyond repair, but this time by
choice, not by the vagaries of fate.
But
even as he opened his mouth to beg Adam not to leave, Joe knew it was too late.
The stage pulled to a stop and a couple of passengers got out. Hoss helped Adam
lift the trunk up to the driver, who secured it on top. Adam turned to face his
family. “Goodbye.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“Be
careful, son,” Ben replied, stepping close and hugging Adam, even though he
knew his oldest son hated public displays of affection. “Write often, Adam.”
“I
will, Pa,” Adam smiled. He hugged Ben briefly before turning to Hoss. “Be good,
‘big’ brother,” he teased. “And don’t let Joe lead you into any scrapes.”
“Bye,
Adam,” Hoss replied and the tears were clear in his voice. For a moment, Adam
looked disturbed, then he patted his younger brother on the shoulder before
turning to Joe.
“Keep
out of trouble, Joe,” he advised, not sure what to say. He had always thought
of Joe as being younger and more vulnerable, for he wore his emotions on his
sleeve for all the world to see. But now, Joe seemed remote and adult, his face
blank, apart from the shining green eyes, which were rapidly drowning in tears.
It
had often seemed to Joe that Adam didn’t like touching him. Adam wasn’t a
particularly demonstrative person, which seemed odd given that the rest of the
family had no hesitation in hugging or touching each other. But Joe felt that
Adam was particularly leery of touching him and he had done his best to respect
the distance that Adam needed. Now, he couldn’t obey that self-imposed
stricture and he drew his brother into a tight hug.
Taken
aback by the depth of emotion that Joe expressed in that one gesture, Adam
hugged back for a moment before disentangling himself. “Steady on, Little Joe,”
he chided, gently. “Anyone would think that you’re never going to see me
again.” The light-hearted jibe stung Joe painfully. That was exactly what he
thought.
He
shook his head. “Be careful out there in the big, wild, world, Adam,” he
pleaded. “Remember that we’re always here. But wherever you go, be happy.”
The
brothers looked at each other, then Adam took a step back. The gulf between
them widened. They were separated not only by years, but by different attitudes.
Joe had already found himself and where he was happiest – the Ponderosa. Adam
had yet to find himself, which was why he was leaving. And for a moment, he was
intensely jealous of his baby brother, who seemed to have led a charmed life
from the beginning, not having to suffer the hardships that Adam had had to.
“Thank you.” The words were cold, although not meant that way. Adam turned to
give Ben one last hug, then bounded aboard the stage. Ben hadn’t seen Adam
display any enthusiasm like that for longer than he cared to remember.
Then
the stage was moving and the last glimpse they had of Adam was his head
sticking out of the stage window as he waved goodbye. Before the stage was out
of sight, he had drawn back inside, leaving the others bereft.
**********************************
“Well.”
Ben drew himself up and tried to look happier than he felt. He wasn’t sure if
he succeeded or not. “I’m going back to the ranch, what about you two?”
Both
Joe and Hoss had come into town on horseback, since Adam’s trunk took up all of
the back of the buckboard. Joe glanced across the street at the Silver Dollar,
but he had no real desire to go in. He knew that Ben meant that they could have
the rest of the day off work, but Joe felt he would rather go back to the ranch
and finish off breaking those mustangs for the livery stable. He was sure he
wouldn’t be good company. “I think I’ll come home, too, Pa,” he replied.
“Me,
too,” Hoss muttered. “D’ya need the mail collected, Pa?”
“I
don’t suppose it matters,” Ben sighed. “If you want to get it, son, go on. I’ll
see you both back at the ranch.” He walked slowly over to the buckboard and
climbed onto the seat. Joe watched before walking equally slowly over to Cochise.
“I’ll
git the mail an’ see ya back at the house, Joe.” Hoss took Chubb’s rein and
turned to go down to the mail office.
“I’m
going to the breaking corral first,” Joe replied. “I’ll see you at supper.”
Frowning,
Hoss watched Joe canter down the street. He felt a pang of disquiet watching
Joe go. He just hoped his little brother wouldn’t do something silly.
********************************
Hobbling
in through the front door of the house several hours later, Joe wished that he
had gone to the saloon, or just come straight home. Going to the corral had
proven to be a bad idea – well maybe not bad, but not a great idea. Joe had
worked steadily through the afternoon as the temperature dropped, thanks to a
cold wind blowing down from the mountains. The hands had done a good job
without Joe there and Joe guessed that another day ought to see the job
finished. And then he had mounted the horse he thought would be the last one to
be broken that day – and taken a bad tumble.
As
the grey bucked its way across the corral, Joe suddenly felt the saddle slip!
Knowing that there was no way he could stay on the animal, Joe kicked his feet
free of the stirrups and threw himself to the ground. Unfortunately, as he did
so, the horse gave an extra big buck and Joe found himself airborne, unable to
do anything about it. He crashed to the ground and rolled a few times, hearing
the bucking horse draw near, but unable to get up and move away because he was
badly winded. From behind him, Joe could hear the men shouting.
Breath
returned with a jolt and Joe scrambled to his feet. But he had chosen the wrong
moment. If he had stayed down, he would have been all right. But his sudden
movement startled the mustang, which swerved wildly and crashed into Joe,
knocking him off his feet. Joe bounced off the rails and staggered helplessly,
trying to catch his balance. But his left ankle twisted under him and Joe hit
the ground once more.
Pandemonium
reigned as the mustang was cornered and the saddle removed. Joe sprawled on the
ground, half sitting, half lying, biting his lip. He was pretty sure there was
no real damage to his ankle, but Joe knew he wouldn’t be finishing the horse
breaking.
“Let
me look.” Jeb, the hand who ran the breaking when Joe wasn’t around, knelt by
Joe’s side.
“I’m
fine,” Joe panted, still slightly winded. “It’s not broken. Just get my horse,
Jeb.”
“Get
Cochise!” Jeb ordered and turned back to Joe. “Listen, Joe, you sure you’re all
right? If’n that ankle’s hurt, yer boot need ta come off now.”
“Stop
fussing,” Joe replied. “Jeb, I’m fine. Help me up.” He put out a hand and
accepted help to get to his feet, where he showed he could hold weight on his
ankle without any problem.
“Yeah,
all right, so you’re fine,” Jeb acknowledged. “But you ain’t gonna try mountin’
that grey again, are ya?”
“I’m
not completely crazy,” Joe retorted. “But I think you might have to finish off
down here without me tomorrow. I think I might be pretty sore.”
“I
c’n do that,” Jeb responded, as though Joe had insulted him. “I’m the only one
as does any work around here anyhow.”
“Moan,
moan,” Joe grinned and Jeb grinned back.
“Go
home, Joe,” Jeb advised. “That was quite a fall ya took.”
“Believe
me, that’s where I’m going,” Joe agreed. He could feel his muscles stiffening
up already. He mounted Cochise slowly, feeling the muscles in his ankle
protesting as his foot went into the stirrup, and headed for home.
Cochise
got a most cursory brush down that afternoon, but he didn’t seem to mind. Joe
left him tucking into some hay and limped across to the house, finding more and
more places on his body that hurt.
“Joe,
are you all right?” Ben asked as Joe eased his way into the house and winced as
he unbuckled his gun belt.
“Hi,
Pa.” Joe found a smile to try and reassure his father, but he saw at once that
he had failed, so he quickly sketched in the details of his mishap.
“I’ve
never known anyone who could find trouble like you can, son,” Ben teased, his
eyes raking Joe from head to foot, checking him out for obvious signs of blood
and bruising. Finding none, he brought his eyes back to Joe’s face, and saw the
fond smile there; Joe had been perfectly well aware of what Ben was doing.
“I’m
fine, honest,” Joe assured him. “I just want a hot bath and a comfortable
seat.”
“I
think we might be able to provide those,” Ben smiled.
***************************
Despite
everyone’s best efforts to be cheerful, the evening dragged. When Joe went to
bed, he found himself unable to get to sleep for quite a while and when he did
finally drop off, his dreams were unsettling. When morning broke, Joe felt as
though he hadn’t been to sleep. He dragged himself out of bed and dawdled
through his morning ritual before leaving his room to head down for breakfast.
The
door to Adam’s room was standing ajar, which wasn’t unusual, since Adam was
usually up before Joe. But as Joe glanced in, the memory that Adam was gone – most
likely for good – hit Joe like a blow in the stomach. Unease roiled in his gut
and for a moment, Joe thought that his stomach was going to betray him. He
leaned unsteadily against the wall and drew in some deep breaths until
everything settled down again.
As
Joe came down the stairs, Ben wondered if he was all right. His youngest son
was pale and dark circles ringed his eyes. Joe didn’t appear to be moving any
more stiffly than he had the previous night, but all was clearly not well with
him.
“Morning,”
Joe said, cheerfully. He edged carefully into his seat, but found that sitting
down was less of a trial than it had been the previous night.
“Good
morning,” Ben replied, still eyeing Joe closely.
“Mornin’,
Joe,” Hoss mumbled, round a mouthful of bacon and eggs.
“Are
you all right?” Ben asked.
“Yeah,
I’m all right,” Joe replied, indifferently, shrugging. But as he ate his
breakfast, each mouthful sitting uneasily, he wondered if he was all right.
At
length, Hoss pushed his plate away and started to rise. Joe knew that the time
had come tell his family the decision he had made – and neither of them was
going to like it much. “Before you go, Hoss…” he began.
Blinking,
Hoss glanced at Ben, who was frowning. A frown started to form between Hoss’
brows as he sat down again.
“I’m
sorry to do this to you now,” Joe began, feeling utterly wretched,” but I need
to get away for a while.”
A
pang of fear burst in Ben’s heart. He closed his eyes and ducked his head,
waiting for another of his sons to explain, perfectly reasonably, why he had to
leave. Ben had never wanted the boys to feel trapped on the Ponderosa, but he
dreaded their leaving.
“I
don’t want to hurt you, Pa,” Joe went on, reaching out to squeeze his father’s
hand where it lay, clenched, on the table. “I know my timing is bad, what with
Adam leaving yesterday, but this has been building since he said he wanted to
leave and I just have to get away to get my head around the fact that he isn’t
here any more. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to do it. I won’t be gone long, and I
won’t be leaving the Ponderosa.”
“You
don’t have to stay if you want to leave,” Ben told him, hoarsely, avoiding
Joe’s eyes.
“You
don’t understand,” Joe corrected him. “I haven’t explained this very well. I
don’t want to leave the Ponderosa at all, Pa. I just want to be alone for a few
days. I thought I might go and check the lines shacks to the west of here. They
didn’t get done this summer, so I might as well go do that. It’ll give me some
time to adjust to Adam being gone.”
At
last, Ben raised his eyes. Joe’s eyes were glittering with tears. “I know this
is selfish of me,” he went on. “You and Hoss are both missing Adam, too, but I
have to do this, Pa.”
“I
understand,” Ben sighed. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“A few
days; no more than a week,” Joe responded.
“Well,
it’s not like we’re that busy.” Ben made an effort to smile. “You go, son. Take
as long as you need to.”
“Thank
you, Pa,” Joe whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“As
long as I know you’re coming back,” Ben responded. He rose and left the table,
and a moment later, the brothers heard the door closing behind him.
“I
think yer bein’ pretty selfish, Joe,” Hoss declared, bluntly. “Pa’s only jist
lost Adam.”
“I
know.” Joe sighed. He didn’t want to fight with Hoss, but as he had sat there
that morning, Joe knew that he needed time alone to deal with his emotions,
with knowing that Adam would never be coming back. Joe wasn’t sure how he knew
this, since Adam appeared not to know, but he felt it to be true. Joe needed to
adjust his thinking to accept this and wanted space to rant and rave, cry,
scream, whatever he needed to do, without hurting Ben and Hoss. “But unlike
Adam, I’m coming back, Hoss.”
“I
know,” Hoss nodded, for he heard the determination in Joe’s voice. He rose.
“Jist don’t stay away too long,” he added as he followed Ben.
Alone
at the table, Joe wondered if this trip would be worth it.
******************************
There
had already been a flurry of snow that season and as Joe vanished from sight, Ben
found himself glancing at the mountains anxiously. Yet the skies were clear and
the sun shone, even if the cold edge to the wind robbed it of any heat.
“Don’
worry, Pa,” Hoss offered. “Joe c’n take care o’ himself.”
“Yes,
I know,” Ben agreed, but he didn’t feel reassured. As they walked back to the
house, Ben felt a deep melancholy fall over his soul. Adam was gone – and Ben
wasn’t sure that he would ever see his son again. He didn’t remember their
separation being so hard when Adam went to college, but then, he had known it
was for a limited duration, which had made it easier to bear.
But
he worried about Joe. Yes, Joe was a man, mature and capable of looking after
himself and everyone else, if the need arose. Ben loved each of his sons
dearly, and loved none of them more than another. Yet he worried more about
Joe. Was it because the young man’s open emotions made him seem more vulnerable
than his brothers? Was it because Joe hadn’t been tested when young, like both
Adam and Hoss? All three of his sons had lost their mothers at a young age and
only Joe had actually known his birth mother, but still Joe seemed more
vulnerable to Ben, and yet he had had the most stable childhood of the three,
settled in one place and with growing prosperity.
Each
of his three sons reminded them of their mothers. Adam had Elizabeth’s love of
books; Hoss had his mother’s open, generous, loving heart and Joe had all of
Marie’s French Creole temper and fragility. They were all so different and yet
all so alike and Ben knew that Joe had gone to mourn Adam’s leaving, as surely
as if his brother had died.
A
shiver ran down Ben’s spine and Hoss frowned. “That is a real cold wind, ain’t
it, Pa?” he commented. “Let’s git back inside where it’s warm.” He grinned, but
it was a pretty poor attempt. “I allus did say Joe liked cold weather, didn’ I?
He’d go barefoot in a blue norther.”
Smiling
back, grateful for Hoss’ attempt to distract him, Ben clapped his middle son on
the shoulder. “Hoss, next time it blows a blue norther, be sure to let me
know,” he requested. “I’ve never yet seen Joe outside and barefoot when it was
cold and that’s a sight I would hate to miss!”
“I
surely will, Pa,” Hoss promised. “I surely will.”
**********************************
Initially,
riding out alone seemed no different to the times when he had ridden out to
check the state of the fence lines, or to do as he was doing now and check some
of the line shacks to make sure there were enough supplies. The only difference
was that Joe wasn’t carrying the extra supplies; he had only enough for himself
and his horse for a few days.
It
wasn’t until he was settled for the night in the first line shack, with Cochise
bedded down in the lean-to that Joe really allowed himself to think. Knowing
that Adam was gone – really gone – was a surprisingly disquieting thought.
Again, Joe felt the roiling in his gut and he looked at the meal he had
prepared for himself with distaste.
“You’ve
got to eat,” Joe said aloud and was startled at how loud his voice sounded in
the silence of the shack. “Not eating won’t bring Adam back.” He shook his head
at the foolishness of speaking aloud to himself and started to eat. The food
tasted better than he had expected, and his stomach settled.
Lying
on the cot with his eyes wide open, Joe found sleep eluding him once more. He
knew what was wrong with him, knew why he had had to come out here alone.
He
was afraid.
It
wasn’t the first time Joe had been alone and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.
That wasn’t what frightened him. What frightened him was that one of the people
he had relied on was gone. There was a gap in his safety net, a gap that would
never be filled. Joe had assumed that Adam would always be around and it was
disquieting to realise that the Ponderosa and the family were no longer enough
for Adam and hadn’t been enough for some time past. It made Joe question his
own value in Adam’s life.
They
had disagreed regularly over the years. ‘Butting heads’ Ben called it. Joe knew
that Adam was trying to teach him what he knew and keep him safe, but as Joe
grew older, he started to resent being told what to do all the time and wanted
to try his own wings. Gradually, Adam had learned to let go, although he was
always there for Joe when the going got tough. Now, Joe knew he would have to
be there for himself.
Oh
yes, Ben and Hoss were there, as they had always been. But there was this gap –
Joe could think of no other way to describe it. In a way, it was almost like
realising that your parents were gone and you were suddenly the older
generation, the one who had to make all the decisions, had to know all the
answers. It was a scary thought. How many times had Joe and Hoss relied on Adam
to come up with a plan to get them out of some tricky situation?
It
was no secret that Joe didn’t like heights. He still blushed with shame when he
thought how he had treated his childhood friend, Mitch, when his rifle had got
stuck at the top of Eagle Rock. He had been very fortunate that Mitch had been
willing to forgive him after that. Now Joe felt that he was standing on the
edge of a precipice and there was no safety net to catch him. It wasn’t a
feeling he liked.
It
was a long time before Joe fell asleep that night.
*********************************
A thin
layer of snow covered the ground the next morning. Joe knew that it had been
cold overnight – he had had to get up to put more wood on the stove – but he
was surprised to see snow. He had assumed it was just frost.
While
he did the morning chores, Joe eyed the sky, trying to decide if there was more
snow on the way. The sky remained clear and blue, with just the odd fat, fluffy
white cloud drifting past. There were no signs that more snow was coming and
Joe decided against going back that day. He still needed a day or two to come
to terms with Adam’s leaving.
The
edge of the precipice was still there, but Joe felt as though he had taken a
step back from it. As long as his thoughts were occupied, he felt the same as
ever, but as soon has he had nothing to do, the fear crept back.
Riding
to the next shack, Joe spent some time watching a herd of wild horses grazing
in the winter sun. This was not a band he knew – the stallion was a rangy bay
that kept a close watch on Joe and Cochise the entire time that Joe and Cochise
watched the horses.
The
foals were already weaned and gone, driven away by the stallion to allow the
mares to prepare for the new arrivals come spring. The mares all looked to be
pregnant, their bellies rounding out nicely. The horses were in good condition
and Joe knew that he would look out for this herd again, and hunt for the
yearling band. The horses looked like good, strong stock and the Ponderosa was
always on the lookout for good horses.
Eventually,
Cochise grew restive, and Joe took the hint, straightening in the saddle and
setting his hat on square. Joe could feel the horse’s desire to run and he
looked around for a suitable place to let his mount work off some energy. The
resulting gallop was exhilarating for both man and beast and Joe felt better
for it, too.
****************************
Two
more days passed uneventfully. Joe was growing used to the idea that Adam was
no longer there and the fear had become almost unnoticeable. His thoughts no
longer strayed to Adam when he wasn’t busy and the hurt feeling that Joe hadn’t
wanted to admit to was easing. He had known in his head that Adam had every
right to leave the ranch, but it had taken longer before he knew it in his
heart. Joe’s mourning was done; he was ready to head for home and pick up the
threads of his life again.
*****************************
It
was going to be cold that night, Joe knew. The frost had started to set in
during the afternoon and Joe, surveying the rickety shack with disgust,
realised that he really couldn’t have picked a worse place to stay on a night
like this. This shack would have to be rebuilt, come spring.
The
lean-to was falling down and Joe made the decision that Cochise would have to
come inside the shack with him. He spread some hay on the floor and got the
stove going. Cochise’s bulk added extra warmth, although he took up a good bit
of the space. The horse didn’t seem to mind his unusual accommodations and Joe
found that he was quite glad of the company. It gave him someone to talk to
while he pottered around making something to eat.
About
10pm, there was a sudden blast of wind that shook the shack on its foundations
and Joe heard the snow scouring the wood. He went to the door and peered out,
shivering as he saw the snow driven horizontally by the wind. He closed the
door again and patted Cochise, for the horse was restive. “Looks like the snow
is on for the night, Cooch. I just hope we can get out of here tomorrow to get
home. Pa’ll be worried.”
After
petting the horse some more, Joe lay down on the cot, extinguishing the lamp.
The snow continued to batter the shack and it was a long time before Joe fell
asleep, listening to the storm.
****************************
The
world was still when Joe woke the next morning. He felt chilled, despite the
warmth of the blankets and he sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
Cochise was already awake and Joe got up and went over, leaving in to the horse
to get some extra warmth. Then he set about his morning routine of feeding his
horse and making coffee.
It
was only after he felt properly awake that Joe thought about the weather
outside. He went over to the door and gazed in awed disbelief at the snow piled
up all around. There must have been at least three feet of it lying and some
fell into the shack when Joe opened the door.
In
dismay, Joe ventured out to see how deep the snow was elsewhere and although it
had piled up against the end wall of the shack, it was no deeper anywhere else
that Joe could see. Still – it was deep enough and would make getting home
tricky.
Preparing
for the journey, Joe debated whether he was wise to set out in this. There
could yet be more snow and he knew only too well the dangers of being caught in
a blizzard. But the urge to get home now was overwhelming and Joe gave in to
it. He quickly put the saddle onto his horse and made sure that the fire was
safely out, although it wouldn’t be a great loss if the shack did burn to the
ground.
Once
Cochise was outside the shack, Joe slung a blanket over him to keep Cochise
warm while he went and skipped out the shack – a necessary chore in case
someone wanted a place to stop overnight. They would be less than delighted to
find soiled straw and horse droppings inside.
It
was bitterly cold and Joe was not dressed for the weather. He wrapped a blanket
around his shoulders and wished that he had warmly lined gloves, not just his
work-worn black leather ones. Mounting, he touched his heel to his horse’s side
and allowed Cochise to pick his own speed. There was no point in going too fast
and having an accident.
He
hadn’t been riding for more than an hour when the snow started.
**********************************
Standing
behind his desk, Ben gazed absently out at the falling snow. It was utterly
mesmerising and Ben knew that if Joe was here, he would want to be out in the
snow. He had never quite figured out the attraction Joe felt for falling snow,
but he could guarantee that as soon as the snow began, Joe would be out there –
not barefoot, as Hoss claimed, but usually jacketless. Quite how he had never
caught his death of cold was beyond Ben.
The
fond smile that had softened Ben’s face a moment before was gone. These last
few days without Joe had been very lonely for Hoss and Ben. The house seemed
unnaturally quiet and both men were listless, as though their vitality had gone
with Joe.
Ever
since the snow had started falling, Ben had been worried about Joe. Where was
he? Was he all right? Had he taken a warm coat with him? This last thought had
prompted Ben to go into Joe’s room and check the closet and since discovering
Joe’s sheepskin coat hanging there, his worry had intensified.
Coming
in from the barn, Hoss resisted the urge to tell Ben that the snow was getting
thicker. Ben had eyes; he could see that for himself. Hoss sighed as he slid
out of his big coat and shook the snow from the rough surface. Joe often teased
Hoss that his coat looked like a discarded horse blanket, but it was very warm
and Hoss shrugged off his sibling’s teasing. Now, he wished that Joe was home
to tease him. Ben wasn’t the only person who was worried.
The
snow was making the room very dark and Hoss went to light a lamp to drive off
the gloom. He wracked his brain to think of a topic of conversation, but
couldn’t think of a single thing that wouldn’t remind Ben of either Adam or
Joe. There was the thorny subject of what to do with Adam’s horse, Sport. He
was quite highly strung and usually only ridden by Adam. Hoss knew that Sport
wasn’t up to his weight and he was too lively for Ben. Perhaps Joe might want
to ride him, but he had Cochise and usually couldn’t see past his beloved
pinto. It was a problem all right, but not one that Hoss wanted to bring up
now.
Just
when Hoss thought he couldn’t bear the silence any longer and was about to
advise Ben to come and sit down, Ben straightened abruptly, peering through the
snow at something.
“What
is it?” Hoss asked, for the falling snow muffled all sound.
“It
looks like a horse,” Ben replied. He hurried to the door, Hoss following him.
They couldn’t think who would be mad enough to be out in this storm, unless it
was Joe.
The
cold hit them like a knife when they went out. The wind caught at their breath
and Ben actually staggered under the onslaught. But he kept his eyes on the
horse by the barn and as they drew near, they realised that it was Cochise.
“Joe!”
Ben sounded delighted until he realised that Cochise was on three legs and Joe
was nowhere to be seen.
Standing
there in the snow, the white flakes slowly settling on his head and shoulders,
Ben could only gape in horror at his son’s horse. The bottom had dropped out of
his world. Joe was missing.
***********************************
It
was miserable going. Joe knew he’d been a fool to set out, but they had gone so
far that they were now nearer to the house than to the shack. Joe hadn’t dared
to stop and he knew that Cochise was exhausted. He patted the horse with a numb
hand, grateful that his mount had been wiling to keep going. Cochise’s head was
down and his black and white mane was more white than black from the snow.
A
deep shiver crept through Joe’s body. He was bone tired, too, the chill
creeping deep into his bones. His hands and feet were numb, and he began to
fear that they were suffering from frostbite. It was a major concern – Joe knew
people who had lost limbs through frostbite and others who had died from the
subsequent infections. It wasn’t a comfortable thought.
Suddenly,
without warning, Cochise stumbled as his hoof went through the snow into a hole
in the ground below. The horse went down to his knees and a shriek of pain
escaped the equine as it plunged onto its nose on the ground. Joe was pitched
over Cochise’s head. He landed on a snow bank, which was a soft landing, but it
collapsed beneath him and sent him tumbling down a hidden slope.
When
he came to rest, Joe was unconscious and partly buried.
**************************
“What’re
we gonna do?” Hoss asked Ben, his face screwed up with worry. “Its gonna be
dark in an hour or two, but we can’t leave Joe all night.”
“I
know,” Ben nodded. He led Cochise into the stable, seeing that the horse was
badly cut around the shoulder and further down around the fetlock. The leg was
swollen and the muscles obviously damaged. “Get someone in here to put a
poultice on Cochise while I get some of those buffalo robes from the house.
We’ll hook up the sleigh and hope for the best.”
“I’ll
get some lanterns, too,” Hoss suggested as he hurried off to do his father’s
bidding. Hoss knew the chances of them finding Joe in the snow were remote at
best, but he felt better doing something.
With
the men alerted to the fact that Joe was missing, the Cartwrights soon found that
all they had to do was concentrate on getting themselves ready for the trip.
Charlie, the long-term foreman, a grizzled veteran of more winters than he
cared to remember, hitched the team to the sleigh and stuffed in provisions,
just in case the worst should happen and they got bogged down.
In
the house, they donned extra socks and shirts, another pair of pants and
finally their big coats, hats and scarves. Joe’s thick coat was added to the
buffalo robes. Ben wished there was a way he could carry some hot coffee or
soup, but there wasn’t, so he dismissed the thought from his mind.
Within
a surprisingly short time, they were ready to leave. Fred, another long-term
hand, had done some scouting and found Cochise’s hoof prints, so they knew the
general direction in which to travel. With Ben driving, the sleigh pulled out
of the yard and into the growing gloom. Both men were silent, neither of them
willing to admit to the other that they were probably on a fool’s errand.
*******************************
Consciousness
trickled back with the thought that he was cold and wet. Joe shivered and
winced as discomfort shot through his back. Opening his eyes, he gazed around,
remembering the fall. He had, he saw, been lucky – very lucky! A few short feet
away was a stream, frozen around the edges, but fast enough running that the
water was still free. If he had landed in that, Joe knew that he would have
frozen to death.
As
it was, hypothermia was still a big danger. Joe had been lying on the snow for
several minutes and his clothing was beginning to feel quite damp. He was
inadequately dressed for the weather and although his blanket was still with
him, it was wet, too.
Acknowledging
that it was better than nothing, Joe drew the damp wool around his shoulders again
and struggled to get to his feet. It didn’t seem that he was hurt, although he
was sore all over. Joe said a prayer of thanks for that and turned to survey
the banking he had fallen down.
He
could see immediately that he wasn’t going to be able to climb up it without
someone at the top holding a rope. Sighing, Joe glanced around till he got his
bearings and, ignoring his throbbing head as best he could, he started to
trudge downstream in the direction of the ranch. He was sure that he would
eventually find a place where he could climb back to the trail.
******************************
It
was a hard journey. Joe continuously tripped over obstacles hidden in the
featureless snow and he was soon bruised and panting, exhausted without having
travelled any real distance. Joe found himself stopping to rest quite
frequently.
On
one of his many stops, Joe glanced up to check his bearings and realised that
the trail was gone. For an instant, panic flooded his thoughts, but after a
moment or two, Joe forced himself to calm down. “Come on, Cartwright,” he
chided himself, almost under his breath. “You just need to go back a bit and
pick up the trial again.”
Feeling
better for his self-imposed lecture, Joe retraced his steps to a point where he
could see the trail must curve away from the stream. He took a drink from the
stream, wincing at the coldness of the water and the pounding that start up
again in his head when he bent over, then glanced up.
There
were few distinguishing marks on the banking to tell Joe where it would be safe
to climb, so he just had to make a guess. The first tree branch he grabbed
broke as soon as he touched it, but luckily Joe hadn’t put any of his weight on
it, so although he staggered, he was in no danger of falling.
Thereafter,
his luck was better and he scrambled inelegantly up the banking. Just feet
below the top, the stone under his left boot moved and Joe crashed down, all
his weight hanging on his right arm. The shoulder socket screamed in protest
and it took Joe a second to realise that the cry had come from his mouth not
his shoulder!
Panting,
Joe scrabbled around frantically with his foot for another secure foothold. His
grip on the branch was slipping and it gave an ominous crack to add to his
panic. Flailing his left arm wildly, Joe managed to snag hold of another branch
– and none too soon, for the one he was gripping with his right hand snapped
and Joe was falling again.
He
felt his legs scraped against unseen rocks as his fall was halted once more. Somehow,
Joe found a secure place for his right foot and he leaned into the banking,
panting, sweating and shaking hard. His blanket had fallen off, but Joe didn’t
care. At that moment, he was just thankful that he hadn’t tumbled down to the
stream below.
It
took a lot of mental chiding to get himself moving again, but Joe eventually
succeeded, knowing that he couldn’t stay there. He took each move slowly,
checking out the security of his hand and foot holds, for he had nearly learned
that lesson the hard way. When at length he gained the trail, he was too
exhausted to do anything but sprawl there on his stomach.
But
the cold penetrating his clothes prodded Joe into moving again. He sat up
cautiously and surveyed himself. His pants were ripped on both legs and Joe
could see scraped and bleeding skin below. He looked at his legs for a long
moment before a sigh escaped him. There was nothing he could do but get back
onto his feet and keep moving, sore legs or not. He rolled to his feet, using
the nearest tree for support and stood there for a moment before striking out
towards home once more.
************************************
The
world narrowed to but one thought; keep moving. Mechanically, Joe kept putting
one foot in front of the other, although he couldn’t really feel them any more.
His arms were wrapped around his middle, trying to keep the heat in and his
jacket collar was turned up as far as it could go. Keep moving; keep moving. The litany was as automatic as his
movements. He no longer knew how long he had been travelling nor had any idea
how far he had come.
Suddenly,
Joe’s boot heel skidded on a patch of ice and he found himself windmilling his
arms in the air, trying to catch his balance. Clarity returned to Joe’s
thoughts with shocking suddenness as adrenalin began to pour through his
system.
Something
dark on the periphery of his vision caused Joe to reach out frantically and he
caught hold of the branch as his body lost its fight with gravity. A slight
downhill slope to the trail speeded Joe’s fall and he let out a yell as his
shoulder, already abused from his near disaster on the stream bank, decided
that too much strain and too much cold was a deadly combination and it ripped
right out of its socket. Joe landed on his butt and slid down the increasingly
steep slope, picking up speed as he went.
The
corner was the finish of him. Joe might otherwise have ridden out his wild,
unorthodox toboggan ride, but the trail took a sharp right turn and Joe didn’t.
He crashed heavily off a tree and lay still.
******************************
Many
miles to the east, Adam was settling into an hotel room for the night. For a
moment, he pictured his family, sitting in front of the fire in the great room,
Joe and Hoss engrossed in a game of checkers and Ben reading the paper,
sometimes telling his sons about the articles, but mostly sitting in
companionable silence. It was a picture that comforted him. He knew his family
was safe.
On
a cold, snowy trail in
***************************
“Look!”
It wasn’t quite dark, but the light was fading fast, what there was of it. In
the frozen twilit gloom, Hoss had seen a flash of colour.
At
once, Ben brought the sleigh to a stand still and Hoss got out to investigate,
trying not to let the frigid air under the covers. This was not the first such
stop that they had made, but Ben hoped it would be the last. Each time they saw
something, Ben’s hopes rose that it was Joe, and each time they had been
dashed.
“Pa!”
The cry brought Ben out of his reverie and he was on his feet, stumbling
through the snow before he was aware of it.
Hoss
was kneeling on the ground, cradling Joe in his arms. The younger man was
almost as white as the snow he lay on, only his damp, mussed curls contrasting
with the whiteness of the landscape.
“Joe!”
Ben was on his knees too, drawing Joe into his embrace, frantically checking
for a pulse. It was there, weak and thready, but Joe was alive and that was all
that mattered to Ben. He glanced up at Hoss, who had drawn back fearfully,
unable to deal with the bad news he expected. “Hoss, Joe is alive. Help me get
him to the sleigh.”
Working
together, the two men carried Joe to the sleigh, where Hoss wrapped Joe’s coat
around his shoulders then tenderly tucked a buffalo robe over him. Ben held Joe
as though he would never let him go. He willed the sleigh to go faster as they
turned for home, all the while knowing that speed on that treacherous surface
could spell the end for them all. But it didn’t take long for them to reach the
house.
Joe
had been less than a mile from home.
*****************************
The
combined warmth of Ben’s body and the buffalo robe started to penetrate Joe’s
frozen body. He was extremely cold, but not yet dangerously so and as his body
warmed, he made the climb back to consciousness.
“Easy,
Joe,” Ben soothed, as Joe moved restlessly in his arms. “I’ve got you; just lie
still, son.”
“Pa?”
Joe mumbled, confused.
“It’s
all right, Joe,” Ben murmured, relieved beyond measure that Joe was talking.
“You’re safe, don’t move.”
“Pa,”
Joe muttered again, and tried to move himself into a more comfortable position.
His injured shoulder at once protested this and Joe gave a loud, ragged gasp.
“What’s
wrong, Joe?” Ben asked, anxiously, as Hoss glanced over his shoulder. “What
hurts?”
“Shoulder,”
Joe moaned. Being stoic was beyond him at that point. His good arm clutched at
Ben.
“We’re
here,” Hoss told them and Joe blinked. Where were they? Surely Hoss couldn’t
mean they were home?
“Help
me take him into the house,” Ben instructed.
As
they lifted Joe between them, Charlie appeared out of the barn. He had been
waiting for them and quickly took charge of the team and sleigh and sent a man off
to fetch the doctor. It was risky, but the snow had stopped, and it looked as
though it was going to freeze now. The doc might have to stay a night or two,
but if that happened he’d at least get a rest, Charlie thought, with grim
amusement.
*******************************
Stripping
off Joe’s wet clothes didn’t take too long and Hop Sigh had had the foresight
to put a stone hot water bottle in Joe’s bed. Joe snuggled into the warmth with
a sigh of relief. He was beginning to feel a bit more human now, although the
pain from his shoulder was coming in waves and his hands and feet throbbed as
the circulation improved in them.
“Pa?”
Ben at once bent over Joe’s bed. “How did… you find me?” Joe asked.
“I
didn’t really think you would have sent Cochise home alone,” Ben replied,
twinkling slightly, “especially when he was hopping lame.”
“Is
he all right?” Joe asked, making a move to sit up but aborting it before Ben
could even put his hand out.
“I
haven’t checked him over that carefully,” Ben admitted. “But Charlie was taking
care of him and you know that he dotes on that horse almost as much as you do.”
A faint smile crossed Joe’s face – the response he had been aiming for.
As
Hop Sing came into the room with some warm water, Ben looked worriedly at Joe’s
shoulder. He wasn’t sure if he should attempt to put Joe’s shoulder back into
place or not. It was something he had done before, although not to Joe, but he
had hated doing it and he would especially hate having to subject Joe to the
pain.
“Charlie
say he send for doctor,” Hop Sing informed his employer as he set the basin
down on the bedside table.
“Thank
goodness,” Ben breathed. That was a weight off his mind. If Paul could get
there at all, that was. Putting that unpleasant idea out of his head, Ben set
about washing Joe’s hands and face and cleaning up the superficial grazes on
his legs. Joe mostly dozed through his ministrations, although he winced
several times. The warmth was making Joe very sleepy. He just wanted to let go
and drift away.
“Joe?”
The voice was persistent and Joe reluctantly opened his eyes. Ben was leaning
over him, stroking the hair back from his forehead. “I think you should stay
awake, son, at least until the doctor has seen you. That’s quite a nasty bump
on the head you got from somewhere.” His finger hovered over the bruised lump
on Joe’s temple.
“Probably
when I came off Cochise,” Joe murmured, sleepily. “I fell through a snow bank.
Nearly landed in the stream.”
“You
sure know how to comfort your old father, don’t you?” Ben teased, although he
was instantly aware of what would have happened had Joe landed in the stream.
“I
try hard,” Joe replied, with mock modesty. He moved restlessly in the bed and
cried out as his shoulder sent daggers of pain through him. “It hurts, Pa,” he
complained when he had caught his breath again.
“I
know,” Ben soothed. He felt helpless. He hated seeing his sons in pain. Casting
around for something to take Joe’s mind off his woes, Ben asked, “How did your
thinking go, son?”
“My
thinking?” Joe looked blank for a minute before his father’s meaning sank in.
“Oh, about Adam. It went real well,
“It
wasn’t anything any of us had done,” Ben agreed, seeing from the corner of his
eye that Hoss had silently joined them. “It was just something in Adam.”
“I
know that now,” Joe nodded. “It just took me a bit longer to get my head around
it. No,” he corrected himself instantly. “My head knew that; my heart didn’t.”
Joe glanced at Hoss, who nodded.
“We
all felt the same, Joe,” Hoss told him. He walked over to sit on the chair by
the bed. Ben was still perched on the edge of the bed. “But Adam ain’t been
happy here fer a while an’ it had nothing ta do wi’ us.”
Outside
in the yard, they could hear voices and Joe knew that it was most likely the
doctor arriving. He was relieved to think that his shoulder would soon be back
in place, although he dreaded the actual procedure. As Ben made a move to rise,
Joe took hold of his arm. “I’m sorry for Adam, you know,” he continued. “I’m
sorry he didn’t find what he wanted here.”
“So
am I,” Ben agreed. “Very sorry. I built this ranch for you boys.”
“I’m
not going anywhere,” Joe averred. He allowed Ben to get up, not adding that
although he understood why Adam had left, he had been badly hurt by it. He
couldn’t articulate the hurt and so he chose not to mention it. He had mourned
for Adam; he had let him go.
Understanding
was for the future.
***************************
Standing
at his hotel window in
Walking
the streets the next day, Adam found unexpected freedom in being unknown. It
was liberating. He hurriedly did the shopping he needed to and returned to the
hotel to change. His old clothes he threw out.
Looking
at his reflection in the mirror, Adam saw a city gent a million miles from the
Ponderosa. He looked completely different from his ranch persona and Adam was
pleased. He grinned at his reflection and turned around to admire the back of
the suit.
I must ask Joe if he likes this suit, Adam thought and caught himself. Joe wasn’t there; Joe was thousands
of miles away.
Adam
felt like he was standing at the edge of a precipice as the loneliness roiled
in his stomach.
The
End