It was a fine spring day. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky, a soft breeze was blowing, the birds were singing in the trees and twelve year old Little Joe Cartwright was kicking up the heels of his brand new work boots as he made his way around the back of the stable. He'd had to get new boots since he'd outgrown the old ones. On their trip to town Pa'd told him that he was sprouting up like a weed, which had brought a big smile to his face until they pulled into the yard and he saw Hoss comin' toward them. A knee-high weed for him was just about toe-deep to his giant of a brother. Hoss wasn't even eighteen and he was already well over six feet tall, which left him, at a little over five foot, feelin' like he wasn't even knee-high to a grasshopper. Adam was tall too and so was Pa. He didn't know what God was thinkin' when he'd stuck him in the middle of a family of giants. Although Emily Miller, who was two years older than him, had told him at the church social the week before while she'd been trying to kiss him that she liked her men tiny and tight and that had made him happy.

Even if he didn't really know what she meant.

He'd been whistlin' a tune as he came close to the stable, but had fallen silent for fear of startling the horses. They had five in the corral right now including a black mare his brothers had brought in about a week and a half before. She was sleek as greased lightning and just about as volatile. He'd tried to talk his pa into letting him take a part in breaking her. Pa'd said the only thing that would get broken was his neck and then he'd said 'no', and then 'no'.

And then he'd yelled it.

Really loud.

Joe leaned his arms on the railing and stared into the corral. The mare was a good size and powerfully built – just about right for Adam, really – but somehow, he knew she was meant for him. He'd seen it the first time he looked in her eyes. Hoss must have been looking to work with her soon, 'cause her halter was on and there was a lead rope attached. Pa said she hadn't always been wild. It was obvious from her 'demeanor' that someone had tamed her, but she'd either broken free or been turned loose for some reason. Pa said that was the worst kind of animal – one that had tasted freedom and been returned to captivity. He swore she'd never be gentled again. Adam tended to agree with him, but then that was Adam. Mister 'I-don't-take-a-step-without-thinking-it-through-a-dozen-times'Adam. Hoss, like him, had taken one look and fallen in love with her. Middle brother said she was a wild thing now, but given time and a lot of love, she'd come around. He and Hoss were alike like that. They always held out hope. Always looked for that miracle.

It wasn't that Pa and Adam didn't believe in miracles. They just believed they happened to other people.

Placing the toes of his new boots on the bottom rail, Joe leaned in and held out his hand. He kept very still and waited for the mare to spot him. She liked him. He knew it. He'd catch her watching him while he was working in the stable, tossing her mane and prancing about like she was showing off. As he stood there, waiting, she stopped moving. The mare whinnied and then, like Emily Miller's older sister, Grace, who was the shy one Hoss was sparkin', the horse came toward him with her head down. Joe kept his eyes on her as she approached and didn't look away, doing like Adam had told him and letting her know who was in charge. She met his gaze firmly for a moment before looking away. A second later she pressed her velvet-soft nose into his hand. Joe waited until he was sure she felt secure and then scrambled onto the top rail and sat there petting her neck, his feet dangling into the corral.

"You're mine, girl," he whispered to her. "I don't care what the others think. You and me, we belong together."

As he sat there, talking to her, Joe heard the sound of approaching horse's hooves followed by his father's voice. Pa had gone to town late the night before and was just getting home. He heard Adam call out a greeting and then Hoss shouted out one too. Joe smiled at the answering yip that came from inside the stable. He and Hoss had finally convinced their pa to let them have a dog and it was obvious Rogue was happy to see pa.

He doubted that happiness went both ways.

Joe rubbed his butt as he pivoted to look toward the yard. He didn't know which was thinner – him or the rail. He was sitting on the back side of the corral, near the back wall of the stable, and he didn't think his father could see him. Still, he figured he had better get down and get back to work before Pa found him not only slacking, but breaking the rules.

Half-sitting, half-standing, Joe turned back to the mare and took hold of her halter, twisting the fingers of one hand behind the leather strap and taking hold of the rope tied to it so he could pull her head in a little closer.

"You're mine," he said again, "and I'm gonna name you. It'll be a secret between you and me. Okay, girl?" Joe thought a moment. "Let's see now. I don't know much about you. I don't know where you lived before or how you came to be wild again. Your whole life's just a puzzle, you know that?" Joe wrapped the rope around his hand as she tried to pull away. Then his young face lit with a smile. "That's it! You're a puzzle.

"How about I call you Mystery?"

For a second, it seemed she liked the name. The mare's large moist eyes fixed on his and in them he saw a desire to tell him her story. Then, like night swooping in on the back of a storm...

She went crazy.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ben Cartwright was standing on the porch of the ranch house looking over some figures in a ledger Adam had handed him upon his arrival, when a noise caught his attention. It was that blasted dog Joe and Hoss insisted on keeping. A mutt they'd rather aptly named 'Rogue'.

"What's is that dog barking about now?" he sighed.

As Adam shrugged, Hoss came alongside them. "I just seen him tearin' out of the stable, Pa," the teenager said. "That's a warnin' Rogue's barkin'." Hoss dropped the plank he'd been hauling. "You suppose somethin's upset the horses?"

"Is that black mare still there?" the older man asked.

"She's in the corral. I was gonna see if I could start gentlin' her today."

Ben scowled. "I thought, when I left, I told you to take her out to the north country and let her go. Your brother is too involved with her."

"Ah, Pa. Little Joe's got his heart set on that horse. You know that. He ain't got one of his own since his other fell to the wolves."

Ben shuddered. That was a day he preferred not to remember. It had been the stability – the loyalty of the horse his young son had ridden for nearly four years that had saved his life.

"That mare is not suitable for your brother. It's as unpredictable as he is." Ben paused. The dog was still barkin', only the sound was distant now. A thought flew through his head. He dismissed it as nonsense and then rethought that choice.

After all, it was Joe they were talking about.

"Where is your youngest brother?" he asked, his voice laced with mild concern.

Adam shook his head as Hoss said, "I ain't seen him for a couple of hours."

A second later all three of them were running.

By the time they reached the corral beside the stable, the damage was done. The railing at the back had been broken through. The wood lay scattered along the ground and all five horses were gone, including the black mare.

Rogue and Little Joe were nowhere to be seen.

"Good God!" Ben bellowed as he rounded on his middle son. "Do you see now why I told you to get rid of that horse? She's not only wild, but she's a bad influence on the other animals. Those four were tame as mice and now they're..."

"Pa."

"...out there running wild, and... "

"Pa."

"What?!" he shouted as he turned toward his oldest son.

Adam was pointing. The boy looked sick.

"Joe."

Ben drew in a sharp breath. He saw them – first the gangrel dog and then his son. Rogue sat at Joseph's side, guarding the boy who lay face down in the grass about a hundred feet beyond the stable. The dog's coat was a deep brown and Joseph was wearing black today, so they hadn't seen either of them at first. The older man sprinted the thirty yards or so to his son's side and, gently pushing Rogue out of the way, dropped beside his boy and gingerly turned him over. Little Joe was unconscious. Ben frowned at the sight of his son's skinned cheeks, at Joseph's bloodied knees and elbows that shown through the tattered remnants of his shirt and pants. The boy's fingers were bloody as well and clenched tightly as though he had clung onto the horse's reins for dear life. There was also a serious-looking cut above his left eye.

"Is he all right, Pa?" Hoss asked as he reached them.

"No thanks to you!" Ben snapped as he rose with the boy's battered form in his arms. "This is what happens when you choose to disregard my orders!"

The teenager averted his eyes. "I'm sorry, Pa."

"Sorry won't mend your brother's wounds."

His middle son blinked. "I know that, Pa." He held out his arms. "You want me to carry Little Joe in, Pa?"

"I'll carry him," Ben said as he began to walk. "You ride into town and get Doc Martin. Adam?"

He found his oldest son watching him carefully.

"Yes, Pa?"

Ben's lips were a grim line.

"Find that horse and shoot it."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Adam closed the door behind him as he exited Joe's room, leaving Doc Martin with his little brother. Little Joe had been unconscious about an hour and the first thing he had asked about when he came to was that damn horse. Joe pleaded with their father not to shoot it, telling him it had all been his fault. He'd said or done something that had startled Mystery, as he called her, and Pa just had to understand that she wasn't to blame.

Joe's pleas fell on deaf ears.

Before Hoss returned with the doctor, he'd done as his pa said and tried to find the horse. Like her name the mare was slippery as smoke and, even though he'd found some tracks, it seemed she must have taken a flying leap into the air because any sign of her passage vanished at the edge of an awakening meadow of blue and yellow wildflowers. He had to admit there was something about that horse. Joe had called it right. When you looked into her eyes you knew she had a secret and she wasn't telling. Adam ran a hand over his eyes and breathed out a sigh.

He just hoped that secret wasn't going to cost his little brother his eyesight.

Joe had been pulled from the top railing where he sat when the horse spooked. He said he'd had his fingers entwined in both the lead rope and bridle. Unable to free himself quickly enough, his little brother had been dragged over to and through the fence and then across the ground. Joe told them he'd hit his head somewhere along the way, though he couldn't remember when or on what. The blow left him with a swollen and angry cut above his left eye that was quickly progressing into a knot the size of a child's fist. Little brother could see, but he said the world looked like a watercolor wash. Light hurt his eyes. The darkness scared him.

It scared them all.

As he descended the steps, Adam noticed his father sleeping in the red leather chair before the fire. The older man's explosive anger earlier that morning had taken him by surprise. Pa rarely lashed out at any of them and he had been close to cruel to Hoss. Then again, he had to remember that it had been a beautiful and feisty black horse that had cost Little Joe's mother her life. Marie had been dragged too, after her horse had shied and fallen on her.

God, had it really been only six years ago?

Passing his father's quiescent form Adam went to the door, stepped outside, and headed for the barn where he knew Hoss was working. As he had thought all those years ago when Marie died so suddenly, twenty-four-year-old was amazed at the difference a few hours could make. This morning they had been a family – tight, close, bound by love and trust; completely supportive of one another. Tonight, everything was broken, including Little Joe.

Though it wasn't his youngest brother he was the most concerned about.

Adam pushed the barn door open and stepped inside. When he didn't see his brother, he called out. "Hoss? Are you in here?"

At first there was nothing. Then a quiet, "Go away, Adam. I don't want to talk to no one."

He turned a corner and found the teenager sitting on the stable floor. Rogue was draped across his legs and Hoss was petting the pooch's raggedy head. Joe and Hoss had found the dog a month or so back in the aftermath of a flood and adopted it. Rogue was seven shades of brown from the color of mud to a dark shade of coffee. His hair was long and curly as Joe's before a haircut, and somewhere under it there were a pair of big, wet, mournful black eyes.

Mongrel was too polite a word.

"Are you going to sit out here all night and sulk?" he asked.

Hoss shrugged. "Maybe."

"It wasn't your fault, you know?"

His brother's crisp blue eyes flicked to his face and then back to the dog. "Pa don't think that way."

"Pa was angry. You know how he is. He says things sometimes that he doesn't mean, especially where Joe is concerned –"

"Oh, he meant it all right," Hoss countered quickly. "And he's right. I could of got Little Joe killed." The teenager's gaze went to the open barn door, and then beyond it to the house. "Might still."

"The Doc says Joe's in no danger."

There was more, of course, but he left it at that for the moment. Maybe Hoss wouldn't ask about the 'more'.

Those blue eyes returned to his face, hopeful. "You mean Little Joe's all right? He ain't got nothin' wrong with him?"

So much for that thought.

Adam winced. "Well. there's some...small...concern about his eyesight."

Hoss let the dog go and stood up. A second later he was looming over him. "What do you mean? You tell it to me straight, Adam."

He touched his forehead. "It was that knock on the head Joe took. There's some worry about swelling and internal pressure. Paul's thinks he'll be okay," he rushed to assure him, "but it may take a little while to be sure."

"What you're tryin' to avoid sayin' is that I may have blinded my little brother."

There was a world of hurt in that statement as big as the budding man who'd made it.

"Hoss, you know how it is. You didn't do anything. It was that mare –"

"The one I kept against Pa's orders. I was gonna tame that horse for Joe." He scowled. "It could have killed him."

Adam pursed his lips. "It won't if Pa has his way. He told me to find and shoot it."

He had never seen his young brother's face so grim. "That ain't your job, Adam. It's mine."

The words were almost a physical blow. His middle brother loved animals and would do anything to make sure they didn't suffer. He'd seen Hoss nurse a horse back to life that everyone else had given up on; seen him lovingly rescue a deer from a hunter's trap – even set a wolf cub free, though he knew it would grow up one day and he might have to hunt it down.

"Hoss. No, it's not. That's not you. Let me do it."

The teenager's jaw was set. "No, Adam. I gotta do it. I owe Pa – and Little Joe."

He tried a different tact. "Joe won't be happy if you shoot that mare. He'll hate you for it."

"Hating me's better than him endin' up dead." He paused. "You know little brother. If that horse is alive, he'll go after it."

Adam was silent a moment. Then he laughed.

Hoss glared at him. "You got somethin' funny you know, big brother, you tell me what it is."

"I was just thinking about the name Joe gave the horse."

"What name?"

That was right. Hoss hadn't been in the room when Joe'd told them what had happened. "He called her 'Mystery' and she certainly is that. In spite of what Pa thinks, there's something about her that's...extraordinary. I'm sure it's what Joe sensed. He's a good judge of horse flesh, even at twelve."

Hoss crossed over to the stable wall and took hold of his saddle. With it, he headed for his newest mount, a big black named Chubb. After setting the saddle, he checked his rifle and saddlebags for supplies and then crossed to the cupboard for more ammunition. As he stood there, bullets in hand, his brother turned back toward him.

"The only thing that black horse is, Adam, is a devil."

"I thought Joe said you liked her. That you thought she could be gentled."

Hoss was silent a moment. "You know how it is with women, Adam. There's some of them so beautiful they take a man's breath away. Make it hard for him to see straight." His brother shook his head. "When I looked into that pretty filly's eyes at first, I didn't see nothing but how beautiful she was and how she had fire and spunk just like little brother. The trouble with pretty women is, they know it. They draw a man in and make him love them, and then take what they want and toss him aside like he ain't worth nothin'." Hoss holstered his rifle and then took hold of his horse's reins and began to walk toward the door. "That Mystery, she set her sights on little brother the first time she saw him. I thought it was 'cause she loved the little rascal as much as he loved her. That's why I was trying to change Pa's mind. Now I ain't so sure."

"You make her sound almost human," Adam said as he followed his brother out of the barn.

Hoss's frown deepened. "Maybe."

Adam caught the teenager's arm. "Hoss, are you really going out to hunt that mare down and kill it, or are you just running away?"

His brother stared at him for a moment, then he stepped up into the saddle. From Chubb's back, Hoss answered.

"I guess you'll know when you see me again."

Adam watched him leave and then slowly and thoughtfully walked back to the house.

His pa turned to look at him as he stepped through the door. Paul Martin was with him.

"It is absolutely essential you keep that boy in his room and out of the light," the doctor said. "Little Joe has suffered a blow to the head that has caused some degree of bleeding into, and swelling of the brain tissues. There has been a malfunction of the brain and that's what is effecting his eyes."

"Can he see anything?" His father's voice was ragged with worry and fatigue.

"Little Joe says he can," Paul replied sympathetically. "Shadows and shapes, a little better on the right side than on the left, which is good as it means his dominant side was damaged less severely."

"How long will it take him to recuperate?" Adam asked as he joined them.

"God alone knows. Days. Weeks, maybe. You'll have to expect him to have headaches, Ben, and probably poor balance. And for God's sake, don't let him near that stable or a horse again until he's recovered! Another blow like that could prove fatal."

"You got a miracle medication in that black bag of yours, Paul, that we can use to keep Joe inside the house and out of the saddle?" Adam asked with a wry grin.

"If I didn't believe the cons outweighed the pros, I would leave you with a bottle of laudanum and tell you to give him a healthy dose once a day for at least a week! The best thing he can do is sleep." Paul started toward the door, but then turned back. He looked troubled. "There's another thing, Ben."

"What's that?" the older man asked.

"Joe needs his rest and he's beside himself that you are going to kill the horse that injured him."

His father ran a hand across his eyes. "I want to. I...meant to."

"It's not Mystery's fault, Pa. You know that," Adam said quietly.

The older man pinned him with his black stare. "I know no such thing."

"It could have been the wind blowing something into the corral. Or a banging shudder. Maybe even Rogue. Or Joe himself. You know as well as I do that it takes next to nothing to spook a horse. If we blamed every horse that spooked for what happened, we'd have to get out of the ring."

And yes, that goes for Marie's horse too, he thought.

His father's form had grown rigid. Without warning it, and his anger, bent before his common sense. "I just had to take it out on something. When I saw your brother lying there, I..." The older man sighed. "I feared the worst."

Adam nodded. "I know, Pa. I know it was too close."

The name of the woman he had learned to call 'Ma', whom his father had loved nearly more than life, hung unspoken between them.

Ben sniffed back unspent tears and looked toward the door as if he had only just noticed that one quarter of the family was missing. "Where's your middle brother? I'd have thought Hoss would be here. He has to be concerned about Joe. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since..."

Adam watched it hit him. The memory of his hastily spoken words.

"Good God," Pa breathed as he headed for the door. "Where is Hoss? I need to talk to him."

"He's gone."

The older man pivoted on his heel. "Gone? What do you mean 'gone'?"

"He went to find Mystery and put her down."

"Hoss?"

"He feels responsible. For what happened to Joe."

Paul Martin had remained by the door. He looked them both up and down and sighed. "You Cartwrights, there's a streak of guilt in your make-up that rivals the gold veins found back in '49."

"Adam, you need to go after him."

He frowned. "Are you sure you can handle Joe alone?"

"I'll sit on him if I have to," his father said as he turned toward the stair. Then he halted. "Say, did Rogue go with Hoss?"

"No. Can't you hear him? He's outside on the porch, whining and worrying about Joe."

"Let him in."

Pa had a strict rule about no dogs in the house. No dogs on the furniture. No dogs on the rug.

No dogs.

"Let Rogue in?"

"He'll keep a better watch over Little Joe than I can. Besides, it will give your brother something to do. You know Joseph, impaired sight or not, he'll be stir crazy by tomorrow afternoon."

"Whatever you say, Pa." Adam walked to the door and opened it. Sure enough the mutt was laying on the porch with its unkempt head parked on its shaggy paws. He reached down and scratched what he thought was its chin and called Rogue to follow him into the house. The animal hesitated on the threshold and then tread lightly as they passed his father who now stood by the settee. The mutt had been shooed out of the house with a broom at least a half-dozen times after Joe sneaked it in to sleep with him.

"It's all right, boy," Adam said as they reached the stairs. "Go on up. Little Joe's waiting for you."

At the sound of his friend's name the dog's limp ears drew to attention and he yelped once.

"Good Lord," Adam heard his father sigh as the older man headed to the kitchen to inform their cook of his decision.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In the end it turned out to be the right one. About an hour later Adam went back to check on Rogue and Joe and found them both fast asleep. Little Joe's fingers were twisted in the dog's long brown fur. Rogue's disheveled head was near his brother's chin and one of his large paws rested lightly on the injured side of Joe's face.

It looked like Joe's broken heart might be mended after all.

He could only hope the same thing went for Hoss.