The
Hotel
By: Rona Y.
“The
new hotel’s real fancy, ain’t it, Pa?” Hoss Cartwright commented as he and his
father paused across the street from the new structure.
“Sure
looks like it, son,” Ben agreed, as they watched the men continue to unload
expensive mahogany furniture from the back of a huge covered wagon.
“I
heard tell that they’re gittin’ a fancy French chef,” Hoss went on. Ben
smothered a smile.
“Really?”
he commented in as neutral a tone as he could manage.
“Yeah,”
Hoss nodded. “I reckon we ought ta come try it out when it opens. What d’ya
say, Pa?”
“I
suppose we could,” Ben agreed. He clapped Hoss on the back. “Let’s go, son.
We’ve got to meet your brother.”
*******************************
“Yeah,
I’ve seen the work going on,” Joe replied, disinterestedly when Hoss mentioned
the new hotel to his younger brother.
“Something
the matter, son?” Ben asked. It wasn’t like Joe to be standoffish when Hoss was
enthusing about something.
“No,
sir,” Joe responded, clearly startled by the question. He blinked and looked at
Ben, trying to gauge if his father was annoyed. He hadn’t sounded it, but
perhaps the comment was just a warning. But Ben’s face showed only concern and
Joe relaxed again. “I guess I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“You
have every right to be tired,” Ben smiled. “After all, you’ve just returned
from
“You
can say that again!” Joe complained and stretched his aching back. Somehow, he
always seemed to end up squashed in a corner, or sitting on the floor when he
travelled by stage. This time, he had been sitting next to a hugely overweight
woman who seemed to be determined to make him relinquish his tiny portion of
the seat to her. Joe had obstinately stuck it out. His back was killing him. He
made an effort to smile at Hoss. “Tell me about the hotel, big brother.”
All
the way home, Joe was content to let Hoss ramble on, just throwing in the odd
word here and there. After supper, he went straight to bed and when Ben stuck
his head around Joe’s door a little later, his youngest son was sound asleep.
It appeared that Joe had been tired.
*******************************
“Hey
look!” Hoss exclaimed excitedly, waving a piece of paper at Joe, as he rode
into the yard. “Look what we got!”
“What?”
Joe asked, pulling Cochise to a standstill and dismounting wearily. He was
filthy, caked in mud after hauling a calf out of a mud hole, and wanted nothing
more than a hot bath, hot meal and his bed, in that order.
“We
got an invite ta the openin’ o’ that new hotel in town,” Hoss replied,
oblivious to the condition Joe was in. “Look!” He thrust the fancy card into
Joe’s hand.
Focusing
on the ornate invitation with a small effort, Joe read that he, Ben and Hoss
had all been invited to the grand opening of The Hotel. For a moment, Joe
thought that the hotel’s name had been missed out, but then he realised that
that was its name. He nodded thoughtfully. The card was engraved in gold and
had an elegant line drawing of the new building at the bottom. The invitation
was dated for the following week.
“That’s
nice,” he commented, handing the card back before he left permanent muddy marks
on it.
“Nice?”
Hoss echoed. “That all ya can say?”
“What
do you want me to say?” Joe replied. He made an effort, since Hoss looked so
wounded. Joe didn’t know why his brother was so excited about the hotel
opening. “Why are you so interested?”
“I
dunno,” Hoss admitted after a moment. “I jist am.” He shrugged. “Its jist been
real interestin’ watchin’ it growin’ from the ground up, I guess.”
Smiling,
Joe clapped his big brother on the shoulder. “You don’t need no other reason
than that, I guess,” he agreed.
Nodding,
Hoss looked at Joe again and this time noticed that his brother was filthy.
“Joe, what cha bin doin’?” he chided. “Yer covered in mud.”
Laughing,
Joe shook his head. “Gee, I didn’t notice,” he retorted. “Nice of ya to tell
me, Hoss.”
Still
bickering playfully, the brothers went into the house.
**************************************
The
very next day, Joe was sent into town to pick up some supplies that had been
delayed arriving. When he reached the store, the wagon was just being unloaded
and so he had to cool his heels for a while waiting. He didn’t fancy going into
the saloon – it was too early for a beer – so he stood aimlessly on the
boardwalk, glancing up and down the street. He didn’t spot any particular
friends and he was in no mood to window shop.
Slightly
further up the boardwalk, but still outside the store, Joe saw another young
man loitering. They exchanged smiles and after a few minutes, the young man
drifted down to stand closer to Joe. “You waiting for supplies, too?” he asked.
“Yeah,”
Joe acknowledged. “We’re nearly out of coffee, which is a tragedy in our
house.” He smiled. “I’m Joe Cartwright, by the way.” He thrust out his hand.
Grasping
it, the other man shook firmly. “Michael Peterson. How d’you do?” He frowned
slightly. “Cartwright. Why do I know that name?”
“I
don’t know,” Joe replied. “Have you been in town long?”
“Well,
a few months, I suppose,” Michael answered. “I’ve been pretty busy with the
building of the hotel.”
“Hotel?”
Joe perked up. “The new hotel? My family has been invited to the opening.” He
studied the young man in front of him with new interest.
“Ah!”
The young man snapped his fingers. “Cartwright! I knew I knew the name. But I
didn’t think it was Joe I associated with it.”
“You’re
probably thinking of Ben, my father,” Joe responded. He was beginning to like
Michael.
“That’s
it!” Michael grinned. He glanced over his shoulder. “Looks like the supplies
will be a few minutes yet. Would you like a look around the hotel?”
“Thanks,
I’d love it,” Joe replied. “My brother Hoss is going to be sorry he didn’t come
into town now.”
“Hoss?”
Michael asked, sounding confused, so as the two young men walked down the
street to the hotel, Joe began to fill Michael in on his family.
*********************************
The
Hotel was magnificent, Joe realised as he was shown around. The floors were
thickly carpeted, the drapes were velvet, the chairs upholstered in many rich
colours. There were a few single rooms, but the majority of the hotel was made
up of suites, one or two bedrooms and a living room. Each room had an ornate
fireplace in it.
“This
is something special,” Joe commented, after he had been shown all over it.
“Thanks,”
Michael replied, looking pleased. He gestured to Joe. “Come and meet my wife,
Lindsay. Our home is on the first floor.” He led the way through the lobby to
the stairs and through a door marked ‘private’.
Although
resembling the hotel suites, this set of rooms had a more homely appearance.
They were less fancy and much cosier. Joe instantly felt at home. He glanced
around appreciatively as a door opened and a lovely young woman came out. Her
hair was lying loose on her shoulders and her hand went to it instinctively as
she saw the stranger.
“Lindsay,
this is Joe Cartwright,” Michael said, stepping forward to grasp his wife’s
hand. “He and his family have the big ranch outside out town, the Ponderosa.”
“How
do you do?” Lindsay put her hand out to shake Joe’s obviously deciding that it
was too late to be embarrassed at being caught with her hair down like a
hoyden.
“Pleased
to meet you, ma’am,” Joe responded, smiling. Lindsay was a very pretty young
woman and he appreciated seeing her rich dark brown hair shining on her
shoulders.
“Oh,
don’t call me ma’am!” she objected. “That makes me sound ancient. Call me
Lindsay.”
“Lindsay,”
Joe agreed. He smiled conspiratorially. “When someone calls me ‘Mr Cartwright’,
I always look round for my
Lindsay
laughed. She glanced at her husband. “Michael, did you bring that flour?”
“Oh
heavens, I’d forgotten all about it again,” he replied. “The wagon was just
being unloaded when I arrived and since Joe was waiting, too, I asked if he
would like to see the hotel.”
“It’s
lovely,” Joe responded. “I’m looking forward to the opening party.”
“So
are we – kind of!” Michael agreed. “Well, I’d better go and get that flour.”
“If
you want pie, then you’d better,” Lindsay smiled.
“And
I’d better go, too,” Joe interjected. “Pa told me not to be long – he’s got a list
of chores for me as long as my arm!” He tipped his hat. “Pleased to meet you,
Lindsay.”
“And
you, Joe.” Lindsay watched the two men leave before she went back into the
kitchen. She was pleased that Michael had at last met someone of their own age
who he could be friends with.
**********************************
Over
lunch, Joe told Hoss and Ben about his visit to The Hotel. Hoss, as he had
guessed, was jealous.
“Dadburnit,
Joe, I wish I’d a bin the one ta go inta town this mornin’,” he grumbled.
“Well,
the grand opening is next week. You’ll get the chance to look around then,” Joe
mumbled, his mouth full.
“It
ain’t the same though,” Hoss groused. “Pa, how come Joe gits all the luck like
that?” he appealed to his father. “It ain’t like he were all that interested in
it.”
“I
don’t know,” Ben replied. He glanced at Joe, who was cheerfully shovelling food
into his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten for weeks. “So you and Mr Peterson hit
it off, then, Joe?”
“Sure
did, Pa,” Joe replied. Ben frowned at him for talking with his mouth full once
more. Joe hastily swallowed. “His wife, Lindsay, is a real nice lady, too. Very
pretty.”
“Where
do they live?” Hoss asked.
“They
got a set of rooms on the first floor,” Joe replied. “Same sort of lay out as
the suites, but not as fancy. More homey.”
“Well,
I’m looking forward to seeing the inside,” Ben commented, as he applied himself
to the last of the food on his plate.
“Still
don’ seem fair that ya got ta see the inside afore me,” Hoss grumped, but the
twinkle in his eye told Joe that his brother wasn’t really upset.
“Some
people are just born lucky,” Joe replied modestly. He ignored Hoss’
contemptuous snort.
**********************************
Whenever
Joe was in town over the next week, he made a point of stopping in to see
Michael and Lindsay. A solid friendship had been born out of their chance
meeting. Joe soon felt like a part of their family, as he was introduced to all
the workers at the hotel. Some of them, Joe knew already, for many of the maids
and porters had lived in town for a while. The French chef had worked in many
of the big hotels back east and had a very good reputation. He was also
incredibly temperamental, Joe learned, but would usually end up laughing at his
own tantrums. Being of a fiery nature himself, Joe could understand the man.
Sometimes,
but only sometimes, Joe felt envious of the closeness of Michael and Lindsay.
Joe had had several romantic entanglements, but fate had always conspired
against him actually marrying. Currently, Joe was doing as he often did and
playing the field. Michael had asked Joe if there was anyone special that he
wanted to bring to the opening of the hotel, but Joe had declined.
He
knew all about the party that there was going to be. He had seen the menu,
tasted the chef’s special canapés and admired the decorations for the dining
and ball rooms. Joe was really looking forward to the night.
******************************
The
day of the opening party dawned hot and sunny. They were going through a spell
of hot dry weather and Ben was planning on starting cutting the hay the next
morning. He had to make the most of the weather, even though starting something
as strenuous as haying the night after a late party wasn’t ideal. But they had
a crew ready to start and the weather was perfect. Ben couldn’t afford to
delay. A hay crop ruined by rain would be a disaster.
No
problems cropped up that day to delay the Cartwrights and they were all dressed
and ready to go by
As
they arrived, Joe was gratified to see that the town had turned out in force
for the opening. He had been slightly worried that there might not be a good
response to the invitations, but he was glad to be proved wrong. Entering the
hotel, they found everyone milling about, exclaiming over the fancy decoration
and beauty of the interior.
With
superior knowledge of the layout, Joe was able to guide Ben and Hoss around the
hotel, finally bringing them to the dining room. So far, he hadn’t spotted
Michael or Lindsay, but there were a lot of people there and they were bound to
be busy.
“This
the menu?” Hoss asked, having duly admired everything. He picked up the printed
list and scrutinised it, frowning as his eyes travelled down the list. Finally,
he held it out to Joe, scowling. “I cain’t read a dad-blamed word!” he complained.
Taking
it from Hoss, Joe quickly scanned it. “Its written in French,” he explained.
“French!”
Hoss’ scowl deepened. “I cain’t read French! How’m I meant ta know what’s
what?”
Shaking
his head, Joe put the menu down. “Its food, Hoss,” he chided. “What more do you
need to know?”
“Joe!”
Ben reproved, as Hoss made a mock swing for his brother.
Joe
was saved from further recriminations by the arrival of Michael and Lindsay. Lindsay
had on a rich purple dress, with her hair piled high. Michael had on a pale
grey suit, very fashionably cut. He grinned broadly when he saw Joe. “At last!”
he cried. “So this is where you’re hiding. You missed the tour, you know!” He
laughed.
“I’ve
already had it!” Joe retorted, grinning broadly. “Michael, Lindsay, I’d like
you to meet my family. This is my father Ben Cartwright and my brother Hoss.”
“Pleased
to meet you.” Michael shook hands with them both. “I’ve heard a lot about you
both.”
“Likewise,”
Ben replied. “I must say, Mr Peterson, your hotel is magnificent.”
“Thank
you,” Michael beamed. “Look, I’ll meet with you all for a brandy at the end of
the night, if that’s all right? I’ve got to get everyone seated now.”
“Good
enough,” Joe agreed. “Need a hand?”
“No,”
Lindsay scolded. “You’re a guest.”
Smiling,
the Cartwrights took their seats as the other guests started to filter into the
room.
**********************************
The
meal was superb and Joe was right – it didn’t matter to Hoss in the end what
any of the dishes were called, as he thoroughly enjoyed every single one of
them. After the brandy had been passed around the gentlemen and the ladies had
withdrawn to tidy up, they moved through to the ballroom, where the dancing was
soon underway.
Midway
through the dance, Joe finally managed to catch Lindsay and took her onto the
floor. “You look tired,” he said, with concern.
“I
am,” Lindsay agreed. “It’s been a long day, Joe.” She smiled at him. “I’m going
upstairs shortly. I promised Michael I’d be in bed by
“Do
you turn into a pumpkin then?” Joe teased.
Rolling
her eyes, Lindsay replied, “I’m going to in time.”
“Going
to what?” Joe asked, confused.
“Turn
into a pumpkin.” Lindsay smiled as Joe looked even more confused and thought
what a good looking man he was. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “We
wanted to tell you tonight, Joe. I’m sure Michael won’t mind.” She smiled
again. “I’m expecting a baby,” she whispered.
“That’s
wonderful!” Joe cried. “I’m so pleased for you both.” He was already shielding
her from bumps as they danced, but he began to be even more careful.
“Don’t
you dare treat me like I’m made of glass!” she chided. “I won’t break, Joe!”
“Yes,
ma’am,” Joe agreed, but he couldn’t help himself. Lindsay began to laugh at him
and by the end of the dance, they were both helpless with laughter. Lindsay
bade him good night and left the room.
It
was getting late, Joe noticed. The crowd was beginning to thin out a lot.
Almost as though Lindsay’s departure was a signal, people began to leave in
droves. Finally, it was just the Cartwrights and the musicians packing away
their gear.
“Come
through to the bar,” Michael called, having shut the door behind the last
guests. No one was yet booked into the hotel; that would come tomorrow.
When
everyone had a drink, Michael sat down in one of the big leather chairs and
sighed. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar. “I’m beat!” he declared.
“I’m
not surprised,” Joe remarked. “But the night was a great success.”
“Sure
was good,” Hoss agreed.
“Thanks,”
Michael replied. “But the hard work is still to come – making the hotel pay!”
Raising
his glass, Ben toasted, “To your success in the future!”
“The
future,” the others echoed and drank.
****************************
Over
the next month or so, Joe was in and out of the hotel as often as he could
manage. Haying was over and they had managed to get the crop in without any
break in the weather. With the dry weather, the pastures were taking a beating
and Joe and Hoss seemed to be spending a large proportion of their summer
moving cattle from one pasture to another before the grass became too thin.
One
particularly hot day, all the Cartwrights were in town. Joe was going to
collect the mail, Ben was going to talk to the bank manager about an investment
and Hoss was collecting the supplies. It was more of an excuse for a break than
anything that really required all three of them. Ben could have easily
collected the mail and supplies while he was in town, but he wanted his sons to
have a day off.
His
chore complete, Joe headed down to the hotel, finding Michael in the lobby,
manning the reception desk.
“Just
the man!” Michael exclaimed. “I wanted to have a word with you, Joe.”
“What
have I done?” Joe joked. “Where’s Lindsay?”
“Upstairs,”
Michael replied. He saw Joe’s concerned look and smiled. “She’s all right. It’s
just the heat getting to her.” Joe nodded his understanding. It was incredibly
hot. “Joe, I wanted to ask you if the Ponderosa would be willing to supply the
beef I need for the restaurant?”
“I
don’t see why not,” Joe responded. “Pa’s in town if you want to talk to him
about it.”
“I
thought I’d talk to you,” Michael averred. “You’re my friend and I know you
negotiate the deal for your cattle drive. You told me so yourself. Surely you
can negotiate this deal?”
“I’m
sure I could,” Joe laughed.
“As
soon as the desk manager gets back, we can go through to the office and discuss
it,” Michael smiled. “Ah! There he is!” He stepped from behind the desk with
relief and led the way through to his quiet office under the stairs.
Once
there, he stripped off his suit jacket and hung it up. “The downside of the
trade is having to dress your best all the time,” he explained to Joe. “Want a
drink?”
“Sure,
thanks.” Joe took a seat in the familiar room. It was quite stuffy, but better
than being out in the heat of the blazing sun. Before long, they were sipping
cold beers.
They
got right down to business and they were soon deep in figures. But it didn’t
take long for the friends to agree on a price for the beef that Michael wanted
and they signed the contract right there and then.
As
he sat back in his seat, something tickled Joe’s nose. He paused and glanced
round, not sure what the elusive scent was. Then he felt it again and a prickle
of alarm ran up his spine. “Michael, I can smell smoke.”
“What?”
Michael was on his feet at once. He threw open the office door and the smell of
smoke grew stronger. Joe followed on his heels as they hurried through the
deserted lobby and into the dining room.
It
became apparent once they were there what the trouble was. A glass had been
left in front of an open window. The sun had been streaming through and the
heat through the glass had caused the tablecloth to catch fire.
“Ring
the fire bell!” Michael shouted. “We need to get everyone out!”
Joe
knew that he had seen the fire bell somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where.
“I’ll get the kitchen staff out,” he proposed. “You get the bell!”
With
a quick nod, Michael hurried off and Joe raced through the dining room to get
to the kitchen. The smoke was building up quickly and the fire was blazing
merrily. Joe coughed as the smoke tickled the back of his throat. “Fire!” he
cried, bursting into the kitchen. “Fire!”
The
kitchen staff reacted immediately and Joe felt it was safe to leave them. He
scrambled back through the smoke, coughing even harder and met Michael in the
lobby. “Kitchen staff are out,” he coughed. “What next?”
“I’ll
check the rooms on the top floor,” Michael panted. “You get the first floor.”
“Got
it!” Joe agreed and they ran up the stairs together.
With
it being the middle of the afternoon, most of the guests weren’t in the hotel.
Joe thumped on door after door, shouting out for anyone inside to answer. One
couple answered the door and Joe urged them towards the stairs. Finally, he had
knocked on the last door and found no one else. Turning to move to the stairs
himself, Joe’s eye fell on the door marked ‘private’.
Lindsay!
At once, Joe ran to their private quarters and pounded on the door. The frame
felt warm and Joe was suddenly consumed with worry. He didn’t waste any more
time waiting for Lindsay to respond – he put his shoulder to the wood and broke
in.
The
rooms were full of smoke. Joe was surprised, since he hadn’t thought the fire
was spreading so fast. But the open window and the gentle breeze had fanned the
flames. The rich furnishings had provided it with lots of fuel and it was now
climbing up the outside of the building. Michael and Lindsay’s apartment was
right above the dining room and filled with smoke.
“Lindsay!”
Joe coughed violently as he inadvertently inhaled some smoke. “Lindsay!”
There
was no response. Joe opened the nearest door, choking once more as he was met
with a billow of smoke. Instinctively ducking beneath it, Joe entered the room,
but he soon found it was empty.
Wiping
his tearing eyes, Joe carried on his search. The little kitchen was empty and
so was the living room. By now, there were flames as well as smoke. Joe knew
his time was running out. He burst into the bedroom and saw Lindsay lying on
the bed, apparently asleep.
There
was no time to see if she was alive or dead. Joe ran across the room and slid
his arms under Lindsay’s shoulders. As he pulled her upright, he heard a loud
whooshing noise and, turning his head, saw that flames were now engulfing the
doorway.
“Damn!”
Joe glanced around and his eye fell on the window. He ran over and threw the
window open.
The
street was filled with spectators watching the fire with that mixture of horror
and glee that people often displayed towards someone else’s tragedy. “Get a
ladder!” Joe shouted, but his voice was lost in the clamour of the fire
department arriving at a smart trot.
There
was no way Joe could get out of the window with Lindsay. There was no balcony
to escape onto and he could hardly drop an unconscious, pregnant woman down one
storey. There was no other choice. Joe snatched up a discarded blanket and
advanced on the flames.
He
was coughing and wheezing badly by the time he got them smothered, but the way
out was open, for the time being at least. Joe didn’t notice that his hands
were burned and that several sparks had burned their way through the thin
fabric of his shirt. Crossing to the bed, he picked Lindsay up and hurried out
of the door.
The
smoke eddying through the rooms was getting thicker and the flames were
creeping towards him again. Joe gritted his teeth and ran through them,
escaping unscathed. He tightened his grip on Lindsay and crossed to the stairs,
going down as slowly and carefully as he dared.
The
flames were eating across the lobby carpet as Joe fumbled with the door handle.
He managed to get the door open at the moment the flames caught him. Joe
stumbled out into the street as his pants burst into flames.
“Joe!”
Joe
barely heard his name as his strength gave out and he collapsed to the ground,
spilling Lindsay onto the dusty road. He was coughing hopelessly, barely able
to get any oxygen. He scarcely felt the hands rolling him over and over before
gathering him into a loving embrace. “Joe!”
Squinting,
Joe looking up through watering eyes and recognised the man holding him. “Pa?”
he gasped and then coughed and coughed until he lapsed into unconsciousness.
*************************************
Kneeling
in the street, cradling his unconscious son in his arms, Ben looked around for
help. The hotel was burning, but the firemen seemed to be getting things under
control at last. A chain of men were passing buckets to and fro and the flames
were dying back. Ben couldn’t help but wish that they had got things under
control a bit sooner. Then, perhaps, Joe wouldn’t be in this state.
“Paul?”
he called, as he spotted Paul Martin, the doctor, kneeling by Lindsay’s side.
The young woman was coughing, but appeared to be awake now.
“Be
right there, Ben,” Paul replied, still kneeling by Lindsay. Ben belatedly
realised that the distraught young man on Lindsay’s other side was her husband.
Michael was streaked with soot and dirt, looking completely different from the
well-dressed young hotelier than Ben knew.
After
a moment, Ben saw Paul nod and say something to Michael, who lifted Lindsay
into his arms and started walking down the street towards the doctor’s office.
Paul rose and came over to kneel beside Joe and Ben. “How’s he doing?” Paul
asked.
“He
was coughing so much,” Ben replied, worriedly and just with that, Joe began to
cough again, rousing enough to realise only that he couldn’t breathe.
“Let’s
get him over to my office,” Paul replied. “He’s breathed in a lot of smoke. I
want a closer look at those burns, too.”
“I’ll
take him, Pa,” Hoss offered and Joe was smoothly transferred from Ben to Hoss.
It was only when he rose that Ben discovered that his legs had gone to sleep.
“Hoss,”
Joe panted, as Hoss carried him smoothly down the street. “Hoss, I –I
can’t…breathe.”
“Then
hush up an’ stop tryin’ ta talk,” Hoss advised him kindly, hiding his own fear
at those words. “Jist concentrate on breathin’. We’ll be at the doc’s office
soon.”
Joe
tried to speak again, but was overtaken by another bout of coughing. He sagged
limply in Hoss’ arms when the fit passed and Hoss quickened his pace. Fear
shortened his own breath.
********************************
“Lindsay!”
Joe panicked awake, remembering only the fire and his desperate fight to get
Lindsay to safety. He sat bolt upright, and his uncomprehending gaze took in
the doctor’s office.
At
once, a hand rested gently on his shoulder and Joe turned his head to see his
father smiling at him. “Its all right, Joe, just lie back here and rest,” Ben
soothed.
“But…
but… Lindsay,” Joe protested hoarsely, suddenly aware of how rough his voice
sounded and felt. He coughed, a deep unpleasant sound and looked distressed at
the black specs that appeared.
“It’s
all right,” Ben repeated. “Don’t worry. You’ve been coughing up some soot for a
while now. And Lindsay is just fine.” Ben smiled and gently made Joe lie back.
“She breathed in too much smoke, just like you, but she’s fine.”
“Good,”
Joe sighed and relaxed, only then becoming aware that he was propped up on many
pillows, so that he was sitting semi-upright. And then the pain hit him and he
groaned as his hands and legs began to throb and burn. “Oh… Pa…” He couldn’t
articulate his misery.
“Easy,
son,” Ben murmured. “The doctor will be back in a minute. You got a bit burned,
Joe, but they aren’t severe. Sore, though.”
“Hmm,”
Joe agreed, although sore seemed like an overwhelming understatement from his
point of view. “Where are the burns?”
“Your
hands and your legs,” Ben explained. Joe finally mastered the pain enough to
open his eyes and peer down at the large white objects that resided where his
hands used to be. When he had lifted both up, to convince himself that his
hands were under all those bandages, he then looked when Ben raised the
blankets to show Joe his legs, also bandaged from mid-calf to just below his
toes.
The
office door opened and Dr Martin came in and smiled at Joe. “Oh good, you’re
awake at last. How are you feeling?”
“Sore,”
Joe admitted. He lay quietly as Paul began to listen to his chest.
The
door opened again and Hoss came in. Joe didn’t know where his brother had been,
but he was glad to see him. He vaguely remembered Hoss carrying him, but
couldn’t quite put it all together. He smiled at Hoss, who grinned back while
looking mightily relieved.
“Well,
your nap seems to have helped,” Paul declared, straightening up and removing
the ear pieces of the stethoscope. “Your lungs are clearing nicely. I’ll give
you something for the pain and then I think you can go home.” He grinned at the
reaction he got from his patient. “Joe, does that mean you aren’t enjoying your
stay here?” he teased.
“No
offence, doc, but I’d rather go home,” Joe croaked. “How’s Lindsay?”
“I’m
sure your Pa told you she was fine,” Paul responded, grinning at Ben. “And she
is. Thanks to you! They’ve gone back to the hotel to start repair work. It
wasn’t too badly damaged, all things considered.”
“Good,”
Joe sighed.
“I
brung the wagon ta the door, Pa,” Hoss reported.
“Wagon?
Can’t I…?” Joe broke off coughing.
“No!”
Ben and Paul chorused emphatically.
*************************************
For
a few days, Joe was quite unwell. He continued to sleep sitting up, which meant
that his sleep was disturbed, as when he got too deeply asleep, he was inclined
to fall over. His hands and legs hurt quite a bit initially, but gradually
settled as they started healing. Within a few days, he was out of bed and
within a couple of weeks, he was going about almost as though nothing had
happened.
Almost.
The skin on his hands was tender and he had to be careful that he didn’t burst
the skin. His boots chafed the skin on his legs and he couldn’t walk about much
outside. But slowly, he healed until after about six weeks, he felt as good as
new.
During
that time, Ben had kept him apprised of the situation at the hotel. Michael had
got repairs underway at once. Michael had placed buckets of sand in each
corridor for use against fire and he had decided that he and Lindsay should
have a house of their own. One was under construction a short distance away
from the hotel.
When
at last Joe was cleared to ride, he went straight into town. His memories of
the fire were luckily hazy. Smoke inhalation tended to do that, Joe had learned.
However, he didn’t count it as a bad thing, given what he had been told he
probably did.
Dismounting
in front of the hotel, Joe looked at it. It appeared mostly unchanged, but
then, he glanced down at himself for a second, so did he, outwardly at least.
Joe knew there would be changes inside. He slowly climbed the steps.
“Mr
Peterson is in his office, Mr Cartwright,” beamed the desk clerk. “Just go
right through.”
“Thanks,”
Joe replied. He made his way to Michael’s office and knocked on the closed door.
“Come
in.” The voice from inside sounded pre-occupied and for a moment, Joe
contemplated not going in. But it was too late, he had knocked and so he opened
the door.
“Joe!”
Michael jumped to his feet, a broad grin on his face, and rounded the desk,
grabbing Joe’s hand gently and pumping it up and down. “It’s so good to see
you! I wish I’d been able to get out to the ranch to see you before this! I’m
so sorry I didn’t make it! How are you? Sit down.”
Slightly
overwhelmed with this rush of words, Joe did just as he was told and sat down.
“I’m fine, Michael,” he responded. “How’s Lindsay?”
“I’m
fine,” replied a voice from behind him and Joe instinctively got to his feet as
he turned around.
Lindsay
looked lovely. Her figure was just beginning to show the coming child, and she
looked radiant.
“Lindsay.”
Joe suddenly found that he didn’t know what to say to her.
However,
Lindsay had no such compunctions. She moved forward until she could take Joe in
her arms and hugged him closely. “I don’t know how to thank you for saving my
life,” she whispered, her voice laden with tears.
Tentatively
hugging her back, Joe found his own eyes damp. “There’s no need,” he replied,
hoarsely. “I just did what anyone would have done.”
“I
think you did more than could be asked of anyone,” Michael objected. He had
moved round to stand close to his friend and his wife. He put a hand on Joe’s
shoulder. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he confessed. “What you did… It was
so much. You saved Lindsay and our child. It’s… I…” Michael didn’t know how to
continue.
But
it was more than enough for Joe, who was horribly embarrassed. “As long as
you’re all right,” he concluded. “That’s all that matters.”
The
three stood there for some time, not talking, just being grateful that thanks
to the bravery of one man, they were there, all alive and in one piece. It put
a seal on their friendship, making it even stronger than it had been before.
**************************************
Several
months later, a messenger appeared at the Ponderosa in the early evening. “Joe,
it’s a boy!” Michael shouted when Joe opened the door. “A boy!”
“That’s
great news!” Joe exclaimed. He had known Lindsay’s time was close, but hadn’t
known how close. “Congratulations, Pa!”
Drunk
on joy, Michael laughed. “We’ve named him after you,” he rushed on. “Joseph
Michael.”
“What?”
Joe gasped. “Really?”
“Really.”
Michael sobered. “If it hadn’t been for you, he wouldn’t be here now and
neither would Lindsay,” he reminded his friend. “It seems the least we could do
to thank you.”
As
Joe started to mutter something to the contrary, Ben stepped into the breach.
“Congratulations,” he said, warmly. “I just hope that your Joseph isn’t quite
as much of a handful as mine.” He laughed as Joe stopped muttering and started
spluttering indignantly.
“Don’t
worry about it,” Michael grinned. “When he’s awful, we’ll just hand him over to
his godfather for a while.”
“Who’s
his godfather?” Hoss asked, shaking Michael’s hand.
The
other man grinned broadly. “Why, Joe, of course!”
The
End