The Sickness
By TLR
Trouble finds Adam when his family is away on a business trip.
Rated R
It was a very hot day, so Adam Cartwright undid the top two buttons of his dark red shirt and waved his hat in front of his perspiring face as he rode along the base of the cliffs.
The minor earthquake felt on the Ponderosa just before dawn that morning had sent more than a few rocks falling in the area, and since his father and brothers were off on a business trip to San Francisco, it was up to him to ride out and see if they had blocked any of the roads.
They hadn't, as evidenced by horse tracks and the covered wagon he saw up ahead.
Oh well. I get to see the beautiful sunrise anyway. It's kind of nice having some time to myself for a change.
It was when he got a little closer to the wagon that he saw that there was trouble of another sort. One of the wagon wheels had broken off, and a young, well-dressed man in a pinstripe suit and a pretty woman in gauchos Adam presumed to be the man's wife were trying to put it back on the axle.
They looked as hot as he felt. Adam rolled his sleeves up and rode over.
“Looks like you could use some help,” he said swinging down from his horse.
“I think it's hopeless,” the man said. “But then again, I don't know much about wagons.”
Adam crouched to examine the wheel. “Then why would you be out in this part of the territory?”
The man wiped his dirty hand on his slacks and extended it. “I'm Doctor Woods. My wife Jane.”
Adam shook his hand, then Jane's.
“Now I have a better question,” Adam said squinting up at them in the sun from his crouch. “Why would a doctor who doesn't know anything about wagons be out in this part of the territory?”
Dr. Woods looked at Jane. “I want to start a practice in California. Jane wants—I mean, we want—to start a family. She's 3 months along.”
Adam rose to his feet. “You're not going anywhere until you get a new wheel. Why don't you come back to my family's ranch, you can stay the night in one of our guest rooms, eat one of our fine meals, I'll set you up with a new wheel, even a couple of spares, then you can be on your way first thing in the morning.”
Jane wiped a hand across her perspiring forehead, leaving a smudge of dirt behind. “My, such a generous offer.”
“The only decent thing to do,” Adam said touching the brim of his hat. “Come on. The ranch isn't that far away. We--”
A rumble beneath their feet—aftershock--rocks moving overhead--
“Move!” Adam yelled as he grabbed their arms and tried to pull them away from the tumbling boulders.
But too late—the boulders bounced down the cliff and crashed the three of them into the wagon, which splintered apart in a loud, short burst of energy.
Adam's horse startled, snorted, galloped a few yards away, then came back in an unsettled lope.
When the dust settled, the debris—for there was no wagon left—was silent.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
A small groan sounded in Adam's dry throat as he turned his head and tried to open his eyes in the blazing sun.
“Doct...Doctor Woods?” he asked peering through the broken boards and rocks, trying to see a sign of life. There were no sounds, no movements.
Adam saw the once beautifully manicured fingertips of the doctor's wife, now torn and bloody, sticking between two of the wagon spokes.
The doctor's head was somewhere beneath a boulder. Adam closed his eyes briefly to the smear of brain matter.
Even the horses that had pulled the wagon were dead.
He was alive.
With that realization, he made a huge effort to raise his head, move, get up, roll over, but found that his right leg was trapped beneath a boulder.
The sound of a rattlesnake nearby prompted him to place both hands flat on the boulder and shove with all his might, but it wouldn't budge.
He looked around for his horse, put his hand out toward it, and it walked over, head down.
Adam grappled for the bridle, couldn't catch it. Grabbed for a stirrup, caught it. The horse started backing away.
The veins in Adam's neck strained with the exertion of his whole body trying to pull itself free with the horse's help.
It felt as though his body were separating at the joints.
A cry of pain--“Ah!”--escaped him, and his body collapsed back into the hard dust in utter exhaustion.
Stuck.
Water.
I need water.
I need out of here.
He lifted his head and yelled hoarsely, “HELP!”
The only thing he heard was the echo of his own voice.
He reached for the canteen hanging from his saddle, but it was too far away.
He pulled his pistol and fired a shot into the air, causing a few more rocks to hurtle down the cliff. Instinct. Turned his head and covered up with his left arm. None fell on him, thankfully. They lumbered past him.
He giggled a little-from heat exhaustion, confusion, disgust.
Someone will come by.
This wagon did, didn't it?
Someone will help me.
With that thought, he succumbed to the blazing pain in his leg and passed out.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The agony in his leg woke him up. As did his scorching sunburn. He was trembling with pain and chills. His mind foggy with it.
“Help,” came his parched whisper.
He looked up at the sky. Buzzards circled. He looked to his left, hoping he'd been wrong about the Woods couple being dead. But they still lay silent and unmoving.
A couple of buzzards were making their leisurely way on the rocks toward the wagon.
“Help!”
This time his voice was a rasp.
No one heard.
He turned his neck, seeing that his horse was standing next to a thatch of dry brush.
Shade.
He started to chuckle crazily again.
He found that if he just let his mind go, the pain wasn't so bad.
Just go. Just let it ride you out to a cool night sky full of stars.
And then his left hand moved, as if by a will of its own, fingertips crawling like spider legs, searching for something, anything, to eat, drink.
I'm going to die out here, if I don't get some help. How long has it been?
He passed out again before he could estimate.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
When he woke up the third time, it was night, and it was cooler. His horse stood faithfully nearby.
“Go,” he whispered to it as he tried to lift his head off the ground. But his strength was gone. “Go home.”
He tried again to push the boulder off, pull his leg out, but the rock didn't move, and each time he tried to pull his leg out, a lightning bolt of pain shot through his body, making him want to retch.
It was some time later—maybe hours, maybe minutes—it was difficult to judge—that he drifted into a twilight sleep again.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
The next morning brought more buzzards, more fear, more pain, more weakness.
The calls for help were now only in his head. His horse was gone.
Good. Go home. Maybe Pa, Hoss, Joe, Hop Sing...someone...will come looking for me. At least you'll get some water along the way. If not now, then when you get back to the house.
Adam's right hand inched weakly toward his gun. He could shoot into the air again, but maybe wouldn't be so lucky with the boulders this time. This time one might crush his head like the young doctor--
He didn't want to look, but something made him look, some insane hope that perhaps it was all just a dream, or the heat. He had to see if it was really real.
The buzzards were pecking at Mrs. Woods' hand—what was left of it.
Thoughts turned to his father and brothers. To Ruth, the closest thing to a wife he'd ever known. To his mother, who he hoped would be waiting for him.
Help.
His voice was gone. Not even a whisper. Choked shut by dust and fatigue and dehydration and dea--
No, not death. He refused to die. It looked hopeless, it felt hopeless, the buzzards would try for him next, he felt closer to the dead than the living, but...
He again tried to move his leg out from under the boulder, but it wouldn't come.
And then a thought came to him, so bright but so fearful it made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle even in the heat.
I can cut my leg off.
I have a knife.
His right hand started digging into his pocket, until he found his pocketknife. He pulled it out and looked at it, knowing it was his only way out.
Find something to bite down on. You're going to need it. Tourniquet too.
He took his neckerchief off and tied it tight around his leg, just above where it disappeared under the boulder.
Even this small task depleted him. He fell back gasping and weak, wondering if he even had the strength to perform the amputation.
His left hand felt in the dirt next to him, exploring, finding wood, rock, glass, bone.
Maybe he'd find a canteen. There were bottles, but they were broken. Most of anything useful was now rubble.
He tossed a rock at one of the buzzards pecking at Dr. Woods, but the bird barely acknowledged it.
Sweat trickled into his eyes as his hand found a leather pouch, or purse, but, to be more precise, Dr. Woods' medical bag.
Ah, maybe a scalpel. I may need two blades.
His hand unfastened the clasp easily, fished around inside, fingertips skimming gingerly across the items—gauze, bandages, scissors, scalpel, a bottle of pills--to avoid being sliced by something sharp.
Could he use scissors?
Instead of the scissors or scalpel, he pulled out the bottle of pills and read the label.
Opium tablets.
He would need them through the self-surgery.
His delirious chuckle sounded again as he opened the bottle and chewed two of the tablets.
In a short matter of time, his pain was a memory.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
“What do you mean he isn't here?” Ben Cartwright asked with fists on his hips as he glared at Hop Sing in the kitchen.
“I mean he no come back. Must have went to town for a pretty girl.”
Hoss pushed his hat back on his head and gave Little Joe a look. “It don't feel right. You go into town, I'll go look for him.”
Joe and Hoss walked toward the front door.
“Be careful,” Ben told them.
They nodded and went on out, but Joe instantly came back.
“His horse just came in.”
Ben and Hop Sing ran outside to check Adam's horse.
“I sorry, Mr. Cartwright,” Hop Sing said to Ben. “I no think Adam in trouble.”
Ben's voice lowered. “It's all right, Hop Sing. Take care of his horse. I'm going to stay here in case he comes back or someone brings word about him.”
Hop Sing nodded and led Adam's horse to the barn.
Little Joe jumped onto his Pinto, Hoss climbed onto his horse, and they galloped away in different directions.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
Night.
Ben paced the floor while Hop Sing nervously polished the silverware.
Joe came through the front door, unable to meet his father's eyes.
“No one?” Ben asked. “Not one solitary person in town has seen him?”
Joe's voice came out in a hoarse whisper, not unlike his oldest brother's had before the heat stole it away.
“Sorry, Pa.”
Ben went to the sideboard and picked up his coat and hat.
“Pa, it's late. Let Hoss--”
“Wait here for Adam, Joe.”
Joe nodded, then, after Ben left, took up his father's pacing.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Ben rode all night, stopping by neighbors, checking traps, looking in caves, yelling his son's name, shooting off his pistol.
By dawn, he was in town asking Sheriff Coffey to assemble a search party.
“Did you ever think he may have been boxed in by some boulders or something?” Roy asked him. “Because of the earthquake?”
“Earthquake?” Ben asked with high brows. “Hop Sing didn't say anything about an earthquake.”
“It wasn't a big one, but it did rattle some hills around here. Maybe some boulders blocked the road Adam was riding on. Come on. Let's get that search party.”
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The heat was roasting Hoss's skin as he traveled along the dusty road. Not stopping his horse, he opened his canteen, took a drink, then trickled some water onto his bandana and tied it around his neck.
He put the lid back on the canteen, and that's when he saw the shambles of what used to be a wagon up ahead, and a red shirt.
“Hah!” he shouted as he galloped his horse over to the pile of rocks and boards.
Even before he reached it, he could see that he had found his brother.
“Adam!” he yelled as he jumped from his horse.
Adam lay still on his back, face dark with beard, sunburn, and dirt; lips parched. His right hand clasped his pocketknife. His left, a bottle of pills. His eyes, always burning with life, were now black swollen slits. He looked as broken as the rubble in which he lay. The only sign of life was a slight loopy smile formed on his lips.
“Brother,” Hoss whispered as he knelt down and cupped the back of Adam's head in his hand, lifting it. “Adam. Look at me. It's Hoss. Come on now, you'll be all right.”
Hoss quickly glanced around, assessing the situation in one look.
He grabbed his canteen from the saddle and held it so Adam could take a sip. But the water merely dribbled out.
“Adam! Take a drink! You need water!”
Then his attention turned to the boulder that had his brother pinned to the earth. With a primitive groan of strength, he planted both hands on the boulder, heaved his whole body against it, and rolled it a few feet away.
He expected a cry of pain from his brother, but none came.
Hoss crouched and took the knife from Adam's hand, then the bottle of pills, putting them both into his own vest pocket.
“Here,” Hoss said sitting Adam up and patting water onto his face. “I got your leg out. You're in bad shape, ain't you? How long you been out here? Here. Drink this water.”
This time when Hoss held the canteen to Adam's lips, he was able to swallow a small drink.
Adam's eyes gazed up at Hoss with a mixture of affection and confusion.
“Huh...Hoss?” he breathed as his hand came up to find his sleeve. “Thank you.”
Hoss gently scooped Adam up in his arms.
“I'm takin' you to Doc Martin.”
Adam's eyes blinked lazily. “Do I still have my leg? It doesn't hurt. Can't feel it.”
“Still there,” Hoss said lifting him into the saddle. “Think you can hold on?”
Adam's head bobbed down.
“Sure,” he drawled slowly, but made no effort to hold on.
Hoss put Adam's hands on the saddle horn. “Please hold on, Adam. I got to get you to the doctor.”
Somehow Adam found the strength and coordination to put his hands on the saddle horn.
Hoss gave him another drink of water, draped the canteen around his neck, then led his horse and brother back down the dusty road toward town.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Pa,
Adam is here at Doc Martin's. His leg was pinned under a boulder and is in pretty bad shape, but he won't lose it. He had a bad time of things but the doc is fixin' him up.
Hoss put the note in the teenager's hand. “Take this to the ranch house on the Ponderosa and give it to Pa or Little Joe. Or Hop Sing if he's there. If nobody's home, shove it under the front door.”
The boy nodded, jumped on his pony, and raced for the ranch.
Hoss paced just outside Doc Martin's front door, twisting the brim of his hat around in his hands.
A couple of times Adam growled in pain as the doctor worked on him, and Hoss had to restrain himself from bolting inside.
:::::::::::::::::::::::
Adam lay on the doctor's black leather chaise, propped against a pillow while Doc Martin busied himself in another room.
When Hoss walked into the doctor's house, he saw his brother hiding his bottle of pills under the pillow.
The twinkle of life, humor, mischief, and intellect in his older brother's eyes was gone, the boyish cheeks now sunken. Agility, zero. Grace, zero.
His brother was lost somewhere in the land between hell and heaven.
“Good thing you didn't cut your leg off, old brother. Doc says it can be saved.”
Adam's leg was swathed in splints and bandages. “Sometimes I didn't know reality from surreality.”
Hoss's brow furrowed. “Yeah. Reckon you had a terrible time of things. You don't have to hide those pills. Doc said you'll be in a heap of pain for a while.”
“There's something I don't understand.”
“What's that?”
Adam's voice was soft, still weak. The man who never backed down from much of anything in life, now found it hard to meet his younger brother's eyes. Instead, he gazed down at his hands lying loosely in his lap.
“Why they died, and I lived.”
“Some things in this world we can't understand, Adam. You know that. It just happened that way. Wasn't your time to go.”
“I'm not so sure it's that easy, Hoss. Two of us live instead of three? Why? Why didn't I die too?”
“Are you sayin'...you feel guilty for livin'?”
“No, not exactly. Hell. I don't know what I'm saying. I want to be here. Don't get me wrong. I was thinking of any way I could to survive. I wanted to live. I just...oh never mind. It's probably just the medicine talking.”
“Good thing you found it, Adam. Probably saved your life.”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Ben drove the buggy up in front of the doctor's house and parked. Little Joe came up behind, on his horse. They climbed down in a rush to see Adam, but pulled up short when they saw Hoss rolling him out the front door in a wheelchair.
As if conscious that he and Little Joe were staring at Adam, Ben put on a big smile and clapped his oldest on the shoulders.
“You're a sight for sore eyes, Adam my boy. Thank God you're alive.”
Little Joe smiled through happy tears and shook his brother's hand. “This mean I have to do all your chores?”
Adam looked down at the bandaged, splinted leg that was propped up on the footplate of the wheelchair. “For a while.”
“I'm going to talk to the doctor,” Ben said. “Hoss, Joe, help him into the buggy. I'll be right with you.”
Joe and Hoss each took one of Adam's arms, but he jerked away.
“I don't need your help,” he said pushing himself to his feet. Over his shoulder, his next words were directed at Ben: “And there's no need to talk to the doctor. Don't you think I'm capable of explaining it to you?”
His hand on the door, Ben turned to look at him.
Adam struggled to move from the chair and stand on his own, but weakened. Joe and Hoss caught him just as he collapsed.
“Doc said stay off that leg, Adam,” Hoss said. “Do what he says or it won't heal right.”
Adam's face whitened in places under his sunburn as he ignored his brother and tried to raise his foot into the buggy.
“Ah!”
He swooned, eyes rolling back. His brothers lifted him into the buggy, mindful of the stares of passersby, trying to allow him as much dignity as possible.
Ben continued inside the doctor's office.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Adam was silent on the buggy ride home. Hoss tried to make small talk. Joe followed behind the buggy on his horse, watching the back of Adam's head bob now and then when they hit a bump in the road. Adam made no offer to roust Hoss or complain. The only time he moved at all was to reach for his medicine inside the breast pocket of the new white shirt Hoss bought for him.
One thing was clear to Joe. The 3 days trapped in the wagon wreckage had affected his brother. How long the effects would last, and how deep, would only be a guess.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Once at the ranch house, away from the curious eyes of town, where he could let his guard down, Adam gave no objection to Hoss lifting him from the buggy and carrying him inside.
“You want to sit down here with us?” Hoss asked.
He stood in the middle of the living room floor, Adam in his arms.
Adam's head moved no.
“Take me upstairs.”
Hoss did as Adam asked, taking him to his room and settling him on his bed.
“You hungry?” Hoss asked. “Thirsty? Been a while since you ate.”
Adam turned over, his back to him.
“No,” he said closing his eyes. “I'll eat later. Thanks.”
Hoss stood watching him for a moment, then turned.
“Yell if you need anything,” Hoss said going to the door.
Adam's head nodded, then Hoss left the room.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Hoss came downstairs to find Joe pushing the wheelchair inside.
“He's been through hell,” Hoss said taking his hat off and smoothing his hair back. “I ain't never seen him like this before.”
Joe's hands caressed the wood of the chair. “Me neither.”
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
“It's normal, boys,” Ben said as they sat near the fireplace two hours later.
Adam was asleep.
“Normal?” Joe asked pointing upstairs. “How can that be normal?”
Ben glowered at him. “You try being pinned under a rock for 3 days in that hellish heat without food and water, having to choose between dying or losing your leg, and see how quickly you recover.”
Joe almost shrank away from his father's eyes.
Ben softened. “I'm sorry. We're all upset. Adam...just needs time to heal. Physically. Emotionally. The doctor said he'll be good as new.”
Hoss found a smile. “With him being back home with his family, how could he be anything else?”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Hop Sing knocked lightly on Adam's door, a tray in his hand.
Adam's voice drifted through the wood.
“Who is it?”
“I bring you soup.”
No answer. Which was a good sign to Hop Sing. He expected a resounding no.
The family cook opened the door and stepped gingerly inside.
Adam turned onto his back and tried to push himself to a sitting position, but ended up collapsing back against the headboard instead.
“I feed,” Hop Sing said as he spooned up some soup.
“Oh for Pete's sake,” Adam said taking the spoon from him. “I'm not an invalid.”
Hop Sing held the bowl for him. “Careful. My soup very hot.”
Adam fed himself a few sips of soup.
“I suppose all 3 of them are downstairs discussing my physical and emotional well-being?”
Hop Sing nodded.
“Tell them goodnight for me, will you?”
Hop Sing nodded again, then, when Adam returned the spoon to the bowl, left the room.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The next morning, Adam sat in his wheelchair on the front porch and watched Hoss and Joe as they got ready for their day's work.
Joe threw a wink at him. “Some people do anything to get out of an honest day's work.”
Adam offered a wink back. “Wish I could go with you. Hoss, you could throw me up on a horse, or I could drive one of the buggies.”
“You'll do no such thing,” Ben said stepping through the door and onto the porch. He handed Adam a cup of coffee.
Adam looked at him. “Why are you hanging around here? You think I need a nanny?”
“No, but you do need a ramp for that chair, and I'm going to build it while they're out.”
“I can help too, you know.”
“You'd better believe it.”
Hoss and Joe climbed into their saddles. Hoss tipped his hat toward Ben and Adam. “See you fellas at lunchtime.”
After Joe and Hoss left, Ben pulled a chair over near his son.
“Sleep well last night?”
“With my medication, how can I not?”
“Missed you at breakfast this morning.”
“I know. I just need some time alone.”
Ben stood up. “I'm sorry, I--”
“Not right now, Pa, sit back down.”
Ben did.
“You know, Adam, I've been thinking how nice it would be to have a guesthouse here on the Ponderosa. I'd like you to design it and supervise the construction.”
Adam's eyebrow arched as he took a sip of his coffee. “We'll see.”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
A library assistant named Penelope closed early for the day, then rode her buggy home to pick some fresh flowers from her backyard, taking care to arrange them just so in a bundle that she tied with a pretty red ribbon and placed into a crystal vase of water.
She was a dark-haired beauty with dimples and a caring manner. She loved growing exotic flowers and fed every stray that came into the yard. At the moment she worked with books, but had aspirations of becoming a nurse.
“Who are those for?” her mother Rose asked as she came outside to pick some vegetables.
“Adam,” she said. “I've been meaning to visit him, but the library has been so busy with a new shipment. I'm taking him a new book.”
“I'm sure he'd like that. Give him my best.”
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Penelope drove up in her buggy, but purposely stopped several yards away so she could watch him. She found herself doing that whenever he was in town. Some people thought they were an item. They ate dinner together occasionally, they looked like a couple made for each other, and they laughed a lot together, so it was easy to assume that they were together.
She once wrote in her diary that she and Adam had similar features, similar personalities, and could have beautiful children together some day. But those words stayed on paper. She had only allowed herself to think about it, never speak about it.
Adam stood on the porch with a pencil in his hand, a crutch under each arm and favoring his bad leg as he drew blueprints for the guesthouse on a tall lectern Ben set up for him.
Ben warned him that he was doing too much too soon, but Adam insisted that he spend a little time upright before he forgot how to.
“Hello? Adam?”
He turned toward her voice, then smiled as he saw her buggy roll in.
“Penelope. Good to see you again.”
He made his way off the porch as she carried the flowers to him.
“They're beautiful,” he said smelling them. “But not as beautiful as you. Thank you.”
He set the vase on a window ledge just above the lectern.
“Every time I look at them, I'll think of you.”
She touched his arm. “You get around pretty well on those crutches.”
“It isn't something I want to get very used to, but thank you.”
She looked at his blueprints. “What are you designing?”
“Guesthouse for Pa. I think it's his way of keeping me busy. I let him.”
“It looks gorgeous.”
He smiled. “Maybe you'll be my first guest.”
She smiled back. “Maybe I will.”
“Come on, let's have a seat. Hop Sing is supposed to bring out some lemonade soon.”
They took a seat on the porch.
“I'm glad you're out of the wheelchair. It looks like you're mending well.”
“Famously,” he said as he leaned back in his chair. He tried to cross one leg over the other, but the movement caused a hiss of pain.
“Oh,” she said squeezing his arm. “You're doing far too much.”
“Guess I am,” he said as he reached inside his shirt pocket for his medicine bottle. He opened it and took 2 pills.
“You look thin, Adam. Have you been eating?”
He chuckled lightly. “I need a friend, Penelope, not a nursemaid. I have 2 brothers, a father, and a cook for that.”
She smiled and touched his face. “All right,” she said moving her lips to his. “I'll be your friend.”
He put an arm around her and kissed her deeply.
Hop Sing arrived with the lemonade.
“Sorry for interruption.”
Adam and Penelope separated.
“Perfect timing,” Adam said dryly. He took a handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbed the sweat from his face.
Hop Sing ignored the statement and went back inside.
Adam and Penelope sipped their lemonade.
“I brought you a new book,” she said. “Poetry. It's in the buggy. Would you like to take a ride?”
“If I drive.”
She gave him a quick kiss. “It's a deal. I'll read to you along the way.”
Adam reached for his crutches, she handed them to him, then he made his way to his feet.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
When Joe and Hoss rode up to the house for dinner that evening, they found Adam kissing Penelope goodbye, the book she'd given him in one hand.
Joe and Hoss exchanged a look. Hoss grinned. “Maybe she'd kiss me like that if I got hurt real bad.”
Penelope smiled at them and she drove the buggy away. They watched her leave.
“Having fun?” Adam said to the back of their heads.
Little Joe looked back at him. “She's good for you, Adam. This is the first real smile I've seen from you in a while.”
Adam used his crutches to get over to his blueprints. “Did you see the flowers she brought me?”
He smelled them again.
“Yep,” Hoss said. “You're gonna be all right, Adam.”
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
“Your drawings are magnificent, Adam,” Ben said at the dinner table that evening—the first dinner Adam had with all of them downstairs since he came home. He passed Adam a plate of roasting ears, but Adam passed them on to Hoss.
Ben looked at Hoss and Joe. “Did you boys see them?”
“We saw them,” Joe answered. “Not bad.” He winked at Adam. “Keep practicing, brother. You may make something of yourself yet.”
Adam picked up his wine glass and looked at it. “Those blueprints got me to do a lot of heavy thinking, Pa.”
“Uh oh,” Hoss grinned. “Does your head hurt when you do that?”
Adam rolled his eyes toward the ceiling a little and continued.
“I've been thinking about moving off the Ponderosa to build some nice hotels, and taking Penelope with me.”
Hoss and Joe looked at each other.
Ben set his wine glass down.
“Well, son...don't you think it's...a little premature to be asking for Penelope's hand in marriage? You haven't even completely healed yet. She's a fine young lady and all, but I think your leg has altered your thinking just a bit.”
Adam gave him a level look.
“How?”
“Well,” Ben said glancing down at his plate for a second. “Perhaps...made you think about life and death more. What you almost lost. Missed opportunities. You've never married--”
“Ruth. There was Ruth. For all intents and purposes, she was my wife. We were betrothed and would have married if not for...” He took a deep breath as he set his wine glass down, and looked down at his untouched plate of food. “She was the wife of my heart. There will never be another one like her.”
“Including Penelope?”
Head still down, Adam gave a small nod.
Ben squeezed his shoulder. “Son. Your happiness is of utmost importance to me. If building a hotel makes you happy--”
“Hotels. I want to build a chain of them.”
“--if building hotels makes you happy, and if Penelope makes you happy, I'm behind you one hundred percent.”
“Just...” Hoss's brow wrinkled. “...make sure it's you that wants it, and not your leg.”
Adam looked at him for a long time.
Joe looked from brother to brother.
Adam finally stood up, tucked his crutches under his arms, then looked at his family.
“The ride wore me out. I think I'll go to bed. See you in the morning.”
They watched Adam struggle his way up the stairs.
Hoss got up to help him, but Ben pulled him back down.
When Adam was out of earshot, Joe leaned toward Ben. “Pa, what's he doing? I don't get it.”
“I think he still feels bad for living, son. His head tells him he should be grateful, but his heart tells him something else.”
“Yeah, but it doesn't make any sense.”
Hoss turned his fork in his hand as he looked down at his half-eaten meal, blue eyes cloudy with emotion.
“You didn't see Adam the way I found him, Joe. I completely understand.”
Joe looked at Ben.
“Finish your meal,” Ben told his youngest. “Your brother is trying to work his way back.”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Adam was in the barn brushing his horse when Hoss walked in to saddle his own.
It was still the cool of the morning, yet Adam's face wore a sheen of perspiration, and the brush trembled slightly in his hand.
“Goin' somewhere?” Hoss asked him.
Adam took his empty medicine bottle from his pocket.
“A wonder drug,” he said holding it between his thumb and forefinger against a shaft of sunlight and squinting at it. “I'm all out. Would you mind going after some more for me? I would ride into town and talk to the doctor myself, but I can't swing my leg up over the saddle just yet.”
“It still hurtin'?”
“A little.”
“That why you're sweatin' the way you are?”
“Don't ask questions, Hoss, just do as I say.” He took a deep breath and let it out, softening a bit. “Okay?”
Adam got around without crutches now, but walked with a limp. The doctor said that would go away too in time.
Hoss put his hands on his hips. “I thought the doctor said once the bottle ran out, you wouldn't need anymore. He said soldiers who take too much develop some kind of sickness with it, where they can't get along without it.”
“Well, I'm not a soldier and I'm telling you I need some. Now are you going to go after it, or do I have to take the buggy?”
Hoss didn't answer.
Adam tossed him the bottle, then limped toward the barn door. Over his shoulder he said, “And hurry it up, will ya?”
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
“Does he need it, Doc?”
Hoss stood in Doctor Martin's living room with his hat in his hands.
The doctor set his medical bag down and gave Hoss his full attention.
“No, Hoss, he doesn't need it.”
“You sayin' Adam's a liar?”
“I'm saying Adam is addicted. A lot like Charles Janson is with alcohol. Have you seen Charles in bad need of a drink, or when he's in the jail drying out?”
Hoss nodded.
The doctor finished.
“Opium is a powerful drug. A miracle drug in the right amounts. A devil if taken too long. He has to come off of it. Cold. It won't be easy. He'll get sick. He'll crave it. But you can't let him have it. No matter what he says or does.”
Hoss looked down at his hat. “Adam sure had a rough time of it pinned under that boulder, Doc. He didn't ask for this. And he don't deserve any more pain.”
“No,” the doctor said patting his shoulder. “But he, and you and your family—deserve the Adam you all know and love.”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Adam was limping restlessly behind the barn, holding his chilling arms, when Ben came around the corner.
“Adam? What are you doing out here?”
Adam turned his perspiring face away.
“Nothing. Leave me alone.”
“Son...Penelope's here to see you.”
“Tell her I'm busy. I can't see her right now.”
Ben took a few steps toward him.
“Adam--”
Adam limped away from him, stumbled to the ground, then picked himself up and kept moving toward the back door of the house.
“I can't, Pa!”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
From the dining area, Hop Sing was eavesdropping on the quiet conversation Ben, Hoss, and Little Joe were having in the living room.
Ben and Joe's eyes were riveted on Hoss as he spoke.
“Doc says now that Adam's better, he don't need the medicine anymore.”
“Yes,” Ben said, “Adam is better, but if he's in pain, he's in pain. Who is the doctor to decide that? He isn't in Adam's body, he doesn't know what he went through under that boulder.”
“I know, Pa,” Hoss said patting his father's chest. “I know. Just listen to me. The doc knows what he's talking about. Adam can take a different kind of medicine now. One that ain't so strong.”
Hop Sing quietly approached them. “Mr. Cartwright,” he said looking at Ben. “I lose friends to opium. You no want to lose Adam.”
Ben looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see through it and into his son, who was hiding in his room.
“I'll tell him.”
“No, Pa,” Hoss said. “I'll tell him.”
“Right,” Hop Sing said taking Ben's arm and pulling him toward the kitchen. “You come with Hop Sing. I show you broke stove. We no bake biscuits with broke stove. You come see. No biscuits. No pie. No stew. No flapjacks. No eggs. No bacon.”
Hoss watched Hop Sing lead his father into the kitchen, then turned to Little Joe, taking his shoulders.
“Listen to me, Joe. I want you to take Pa away from the house until Adam is better.”
“You think I can make him stay away if he really wants to come back? You're bigger than he is. He'd swat me down like a horsefly.”
“I mean it, Joe. The doc said Adam's sickness won't be pretty. He said it's like a hunger, and he'll do anything to have some more of those pills. It ain't somethin' Pa should see. Just do him a favor, huh?”
Joe nodded, then walked to the kitchen and took his father's arm.
“Come with me, Pa. We're goin' to town.”
“TOWN?!” Ben roared. “At a time like this?”
Hop Sing pushed Ben and Joe out of the kitchen. “Go! Go get new stove! Stay all night and no come back for 3 days!”
Ben gave a helpless look at Hoss as Joe and Hop Sing crudely ushered him toward the front door.
Joe handed him his gun belt, and Hop Sing put his hat on his head.
“Go,” Hop Sing repeated.
Ben gave one last look in Hoss's direction—Take care of him, his eyes said—then went with Joe out the door.
When the two of them were gone, Hop Sing wiped his perspiring face on his apron as he walked over to Hoss, shaking his finger up in his face.
“You keep Mr. Adam away from it, you hear? You go up. I bring water, towels, sheets, special tea.”
Hoss nodded, then turned and went up the stairs.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Hoss took his hat off when he stepped into Adam's room.
Quietly: “Adam?”
Adam lay on his side toward the wall, back to him, curled into himself, hugging himself.
Hoss repeated: “Adam?”
Adam turned over and came off the bed, reaching for him, limping, stumbling.
“Where is it, Hoss? You brought it?”
Hoss locked the door.
“No, Adam,” he said softly. “I can't let you have anymore. Doctor's orders.”
“Is he out of his mind?”
“My orders too.”
Adam stared at him.
“He knows best,” Hoss said. “We're just gonna have to tough it out.”
“We?” Adam said clutching his brother's vest. “Maybe you can take no for an answer, but I won't. Now get out of my way. I'll talk to him myself.”
Hoss didn't move. “Won't do you no good, Adam. He'll tell you no.”
Adam pulled at him. “Move.”
Hoss didn't budge.
Adam smacked him in the face.
“I said move.”
Tears sprang to Hoss's eyes. Adam strained to pull him forward, away from the door, push him to one side and then the other.
A yelp of pain escaped Adam as his bad leg gave out and he collapsed to his other knee.
Hoss took his brother's shoulders to help him up.
“Don't do this, Adam. You need to get better. You need to fight the sickness. You don't need that medicine.”
“Like hell I don't!”
Adam swung at him, but Hoss caught his arm and pinned it behind his back, forcing him face down onto the bed.
“I aim to help you, Adam. It may not feel like it to you, but I am.”
Adam growled into the bedclothes.
“Get off me! You're just like that damn boulder that had me pinned!”
“Say what you want, brother. I love you too.”
Adam struggled beneath him, trying to wrench free.
“I need it,” Adam seethed through clenched teeth. “Don't you understand?”
Hoss still held him down. “I understand very clearly. That's why I can't let you have any.”
Adam wept into the bedspread and sheets, bunching it into his fists.
“I just need it,” he whispered.
“I know, brother. I'm sorry.”
Adam struggled again. “I hate you.”
Hoss jerked him up and turned him around, gripping him by the shoulders.
“I know what you went through under that rock, Adam. But I can't let you destroy yourself. I won't do it.”
Adam tried to wrench himself free again, this time successfully, bolting for the door.
Hoss grabbed him in a bear hug from behind and walked him backward to the bed, sitting on the edge of it and trapping him in his arms.
On his knees, Adam strained and panted to get away.
“That's it,” Hoss said blinking sweat from his own eyes. “Fight me all you want to.”
Adam still struggled, until his body gave out from exhaustion. Slumping forward, he clung to Hoss's arms.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Hoss was still sitting on the edge of Adam's bed, Adam seated on the floor in front of him, clamped between Hoss's legs, when Hop Sing brought in a teapot, cups, and water pitcher on a tray, and several towels and sheets draped over his arm and shoulder.
“Just put it down over there,” Hoss told him. “I ain't movin' from here.”
Hop Sing wet a cloth and came over to Adam, who sat with his head down, sweating, shaking, groaning. The cook knelt down and wiped his perspiring face.
“He need tea,” Hop Sing said.
“Then you're gonna have to bring it over here,” Hoss told him. “We ain't movin'.”
Hop Sing poured some tea into a cup and held it to Adam's lips.
“Drink,” Hop Sing told him. “It help you.”
Adam took a small sip.
“Hop Sing,” Adam murmured, “help me. I'm sick.” He reached for the small man. “Please.”
“Sorry,” Hop Sing said. “No help here.”
He gave Adam another sip, then handed the cup to Hoss.
“I clean up mess when it over.”
Hoss nodded.
After Hop Sing was gone, Adam held to Hoss's leg and shuddered, doubling up from stomach pains.
“Hoss,” he mumbled. “Help me.”
Hoss rubbed his hair, then leaned down to give him a hug from behind.
“I got you, big brother.”
With those words, Adam doubled forward and retched onto a towel.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The next morning, Ben and Little Joe walked into the house, both taking off their hats and gun belts, depositing them on the sideboard.
The sound of Adam's sobs took Ben to the staircase, but Joe grabbed his arm.
“No, Pa. Let's get the stove out of the wagon and set it up for Hop Sing.”
“He right!” Hop Sing said waving towels in the air as he came from the kitchen. “You no supposed to be here!”
Ben glared from Hop Sing to Joe. “One night away is one night too long. How can I stay away when my son needs me?”
“He has Hoss,” Joe said as he took Ben's arm. “Now let's go outside. We got fences to ride and cattle to check on.”
Ben threw his hands up and followed Joe out the front door.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Adam lay in the bed hugging his pillow, eyes circled dark, hair mussed, as weak and wrung out as the cloth Hoss used to pat his face as he sat on the edge of the bed next to him.
“Adam, I don't recall if I ever thanked you for being my brother. You're smart. I always wanted to be like you, but I never was. Reckon I was meant to be me. I want my old Adam back, and I know Pa and Joe do too. You're strong. In a lot of ways, stronger than me. I don't know if I'd have survived what you did. You can hate me all you want, but I had to do this. I hope part of you understands some day.”
Adam's eyes, which had had a ghastly, lonely look that Hoss wished to never see again, now looked at him with the wisp of the smile and charm Hoss was used to.
“I understand,” he whispered as he placed his hand on top of Hoss's. “It's you who deserves the thanks. And I'm sorry if I said or did anything to hurt you.”
Hoss nudged his brother's shoulder with his knuckles. “Aw, takes a lot to hurt me, Adam.”
::::::::::::::::::::::
Ben and Little Joe sat at the dining room table, a feast set before them that Hop Sing had cooked on the new stove. Roast turkey, dressing, potatoes, corn, gravy, yeast rolls, and assorted desserts.
But the two sat staring at their empty plates. Adam and Hoss had been locked away for 3 days now. Now and then they heard movement upstairs, but no loud voices.
“I think the worst part's over,” Joe said to his father.
They heard a creak on the stairs and saw Hoss helping Adam down. Both were clean and shaven. Adam looked weak and pale, and Hoss looked exhausted. But both smiled at each other.
“Joe,” Ben said as he rose to his feet and pulled Adam and Hoss's chairs out for them, “I think you're right.”
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
A week later.
Ben walked outside of the house and onto the porch just after sunrise to find Adam swinging his leg over the saddle of his horse.
“First ride,” Ben said proudly. “You look good, son.”
He did. Spirit, enthusiasm, and confidence had returned to him. It showed in the feral strength of his body, the shine in his soulful dark eyes.
“Thanks, Pa. I'm going to the library to talk to Penelope. I'm thinking of holding off on those hotels for a while.”
Ben studied him for a long time, then nodded.
With power and grace, Adam raced his horse from the house.
::::::::::::::::::::::::
She touched his face. “But what about us, Adam?”
He took both of her hands in his and kissed them.
“I'm not sure there really was an us, Penelope. I think I was confused about what I wanted. I'm sorry I dragged you into my misguided dreams fueled by doubt and fear. It wasn't fair to you.”
“Oh, Adam, it's all right. I'll always be your friend. It'll be hard to give up the idea of us being married and having a family, but I can do it. I want the best for you. Isn't that how friends should be with each other?”
He cupped her cheek. “That's the best news I've had all day. What time do you close for lunch? I'll come back around.”
The End