A lean muscular boy of about sixteen leaned against the fence of the corral. His windblown curls gleamed, as he squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight.

His name was Joseph Cartwright.

His mission was to tame the wild beast that was even now being led through the gate.

Each of his brothers had taken their turns trying to break the midnight stallion. Today it was Joe's chance. He'd broken horses before, sure, dozens now. But this was the first time he'd be allowed to work an animal as spirited as Six Shooter. And even then, it was only after his older brothers had already worked on him first.

A heavy hand was laid on Joe's shoulder, startling him from his reverie. When had Adam come up beside him? He wasn't sure.

"Be careful out there, Kid."

Something must have shown in Joe's face, because Adam continued, "No, I mean it. Don't get cocky, or that horse will have you eating dirt for your lunch." Adam raised a cool eyebrow and chuckled. "Course, he may just do that anyway.

That was when Hoss walked up behind Adam, thumping his older brother on the shoulder. "Aww Adam, Little Joe knows what he's doin! And if not," He shrugged, "well he's a Cartwright, gotta learn sometime." He stated matter of factly, tossing a friendly arm around Joe's shoulders.

Little Joe shrugged out of his brothers' grip, and climbed up over the rail carefully lowering himself into the saddle. The animal released a disgruntled snort. Joe could feel the muscles coil beneath him, ready to spring into action the moment the gate was opened. In response he hardened his thighs, gripping as tightly as he possibly could. One last look at his brothers faces, now a mixture of concern and amusement. Old Harvey nodded to him once, and then there was that familiar sensation of his stomach sliding into his boots as the gate swung open. They were off.

Six Shooter shot straight into action, his speed and grace unrivaled by any other animal they had seen today. The horse was sheer power as he kicked and bucked, twisted and turned, trying to rid himself of the small nuisance that clung to his back. Taut muscles rippled beneath a coat of midnight black, blue highlights blazing beneath the Nevada sun.
Adrenaline raced through Joe's veins. Blood, hot and alive roared in his ears, blocking even the sound of his own breath. He was indestructible. In this moment, he and Six Shooter were one. Their very bodies fused, one part man the other part horse, like those centaurs in the legends of old. The horse, it seemed, had other ideas. Six Shooter twisted once and at the same time, bucked for all he was worth, catching Joe by surprise and effectively tossing his rider from his back. And then, just like that their moment was gone, a mere grain slipping among the sands of time.

Little Joe was doing well, Adam had to admit it. He'd been worried, but the kid was hanging on longer than some of the hands had done. He wasn't what you'd call experienced yet, but he certainly had the potential. He looked over and exchanged a proud look with Hoss, as they loudly cheered their little brother on. But in the space of that glance, something went wrong. There was a dull thud, as Joe's body made contact with the dirt.

Old Harvey was the closest, and jumped in, immediately wrestling the horse away. Adam and Hoss vaulted over the fence, and arrived at Joe's side in a flash. Oh God, he wasn't moving! Adam bit down his rising panic, as he lifted his brothers' curly head and gently probed his fingers through the hair. Hoss was already busy feeling his ribs, their eyes met.

"No bones broken, leastwise, none that I could feel."

Adam sighed, "There's a nasty bump on the back of his head. And he's out cold." He turned his head over his shoulder and called out to the nearest hand. "Bill! Go ride to town, and get Doc Martin!" The fear was gnawing at his belly, so much he thought he might be sick. But Joe was breathing steady. There was no blood, beyond some minor cuts and scrapes. And most important of all, his neck and back didn't appear to be injured.

Now it was really just a matter of waiting for him to come to, so that they could assess the damage and move him into the safety of the house. Adam didn't relish the thought of telling their father that his youngest son had been injured. Hoss' eyes lifted to meet Adam's, as if the same thought had just occurred to him.

"Adam, don't you reckon someone should go get Pa?" He started to rise, this really being a rhetorical question, since the answer was already obvious to both brothers.

As Hoss hurried away towards the house, Adam slid off his jacket, bunching it up and gently placing it beneath Little Joe's head.
Hoss ran the short way from the corral to the house, fear and dread swelling in his chest. No, Joe would be fine, he had to be. Even so, a tremor rang out clear in his voice as he entered the yard, and called out to the house. "Pa!"

Ben Cartwright had been sitting at his desk, head resting in hand, as he tried to force the figures in the books to add up, when he heard the restrained panic in his sons call. He jumped up knocking his chair back, and was nearly to the front door, when it was thrown open by his middle son.

"Hoss! What is it? What's wrong, Boy?"

Hoss swallowed hard against the words he knew had to come, "It's Joe, Pa. There was an accident with that black stallion. I don't wanna worry ya, but he's hurt…maybe bad."

Ben didn't wait for another word, just brushed past Hoss into the yard. He was hardly watching where he was going, his feet just working automatically to get him there. His mind kept whirring through all the different possibilities, terror for his youngest settling around him like a dark cloud. His heart felt as if it would beat its way free from his chest, as he came within sight of the corral.

He could make out Adam, kneeling on the ground, partially obstructing Joseph from view. Ben had a sudden flashback of Joe's mothers' untimely demise. Marie had come riding into the yard that beautiful afternoon, now so long ago. Like their son, Marie had never felt freer than when she was on horseback. Unfortunately, also like Joseph, Marie had a habit of riding much too fast. Ben could still hear her musical laughter, see her lively smile, her hair tumbling free from its restraint. Her wild and beautiful expression quickly melting into one of shock, as her mare Marguerite stumbled and fell.

He shook away the cobwebs of the past, as he entered the corral. Joe needed him now, Marie was far beyond his help, had been for a very long time. Ben dropped down by Joe's side, it breaking his heart into pieces to see one of his sons lying in the dirt, so pale and so still.

Hoss had been hot on his fathers' heels, and now knelt beside Adam. The brothers exchanged worried looks, and Hoss knew that the memory of Mama's accident was weighing just as heavily on Adam's mind, as it was on his own.

Adam reached out and placed a comforting hand on his pa's shoulder, but when he spoke, he was looking at Hoss. "He's going to be fine. It's just a bump." He hoped he spoke with more confidence than he felt, because the fact was that Joe had been unconscious for several minutes now. Adam was petrified.

Ben appreciated Adam's attempt at comfort, as he sat there holding onto Joe's hand. But that's all it was, an attempt. Nothing was going to chase away the agonizing uncertainty, for any of them, until Joe opened his eyes.

"Joseph? Can you hear me Son? Joe, if you can hear me, I want you to open your eyes for me. Can you do that Joe?"

A small whimper escaped Joe's lips, so softly the others weren't sure they had heard it at all. But then there it was again, louder this time. Joe was never one to suffer quietly for long.

His family huddled, if even possible, closer as he slowly began to come to. Before long, he began to stir slightly, another moment or two and his eyelids fluttered open.

"P-Pa? Wha? What am I…?" He blinked several times against the sunlight glaring in his eyes, and struggled to sit up. Pa placed a hand on his chest to gently push him back down, but the motion had already made his head whirl dizzily. A wave of nausea hit. He turned to the side, and began heaving, emptying the entire contents of his stomach into the dirt. Joe could feel Pa's supportive hands resting on his shoulders.

His father and brothers waited quietly until he was finished. His nose and throat burned, his head pounded like someone had taken a hammer to it. He could vaguely tell Pa was trying to speak to him, but he was having trouble forcing the words to make sense. Was it always this bright outside? He started to bring a hand up to shade his eyes, but it somehow landed above his head. He tried again this time managing to sling his arm across his forehead.

"Joseph? Joe? did you hear me?"

There was Pa's voice again, but what did he want? "Uh yeah, yeah Pa?"

Ben spoke slowly and clearly, even as he felt his heart rising into his throat. "Joseph, I need you to focus on me, alright?"

Somehow Joe managed to get it through his head that this was important, and forced himself to concentrate on Pa's voice. He gave a wobbly nod.

"Okay now, try and focus, I need you to tell me where it hurts."

Where did he hurt? Where didn't he hurt? But somehow two pains stood out above the other aches. "Head...and foot."

Ben sighed and turned to Adam. "He hit his head?" The answer was right there in front of him, but he needed the confirmation.

Adam nodded, "He's got quite a goose egg."

"And Doc Martins been sent for?"

"Of course, I sent Bill right after it happened." Adam looked to Hoss for confirmation.

"Sure did Pa."

Ben gave them a nod of approval, and turned his attention back to his youngest. "Joe, we need to get you inside. Do you think you can walk?"

Joe began to push himself up, even as his sore muscles screamed in protest. "Yeah...yeah course I can." The others crowded in even closer, barely allowing him enough room to move, their arms ready to fly out and catch him should he fall. Joe managed to push himself up onto his good foot, pain shot up through his injured one, but he was careful not to jostle it too much. He started to sway, his aching head dipped and whirled, and he felt like he might be sick again. But he was up, that was the important. thing. Three sets of hands grabbed onto him. He shook them off, and took in a gulp of air. Joe stood there watching the others watch him, feeling like he might lose his balance at any second. He could hardly think, but he wanted to get to the house under his own power. He gingerly lowered his left foot to the ground, and gasped as an excruciating pain shot from his foot and up his leg. Strong arms caught him before he went down. Red spots danced across Joe's vision, but he couldn't think about that through the red haze of pain.