There are some days when you open your eyes, and you know you probably shouldn´t have. Griff felt one of these days coming. Big black clouds build up against the mountains of the high plateau and the air crackled with electricity. It would rain sometime soon. There was a storm coming. Perhaps that was the reason for Griff´s dark mood.
Well it could also have something to do with the rope that was strained between the two bedposts. He didn´t see it at all in the twilight of the early morning bunkhouse and made a big nosedive.
Or perhaps it was the piece of cactus in his boot. As he was limping to the barn he wondered to himself if some of the spikes found a new and comfortable home in his foot sole.
But all these shenanigans at least showed him that he was getting nearer to being accepted on the Ponderosa. Being a convict on parole and a new hand at the same time he had to expect some reaction from the other workmen. He wouldn't lose any sleep over some pranks.
He just wished they would wait until he finished breaking the new stock of horses Mr. Cartwright bought recently. They were part of a big army contract and had to be saddle broke by the end of the week. Something that would presumably break his neck.
Most evenings he would be sore and would wake up several times during the night because he made a wrong movement. As he landed on his nose this morning he could have sworn he heard his ribs crunch. But he wouldn't complain. He actually liked the work. It was a lot better than lugging sacks or feeding chickens.
"Morning," he nearly jumped at the greeting, but turned around to the bodacious form of Hoss, the middle of the three Cartwright sons. Apart from his appearance he was one of the gentlest and most caring persons Griff had ever met. And as if he wanted proof of this very point he stuffed some buttered buns in Griff's hand.
"You missed breakfast, and I figured it would be more fun watching you break these horses with you on top of them." he smirked:"Joe is waiting for you at the corral, hurry up."
~0~
He hit the ground a lot harder this time. He rolled aside, just a split-second before a black hoof came down directly beside his face. He surely wouldn´t break this horse, not before he exorcised it. Crawling backwards without letting the mare out of sight he reached the fence. He watched as three of the men tried to catch this spawn of hell.
"Is she giving you trouble?" the man leaned on the fence. Dressed neatly in black without the slightest bit of dust on him.
Griff's face broke into a grin, as he hoisted himself up.
"Not at all."
"If you say so." replied Adam.
He was the oldest. He didn´t have Hoss good-natured personality, but a tendency to indoctrinate everyone and everything. He was mostly right with what he was talking about. And that made it just more difficult for Griff to stay polite. He knew he fell on his a**. He didn´t need anybody telling him this fact.
"Don´t you want to take a break? This was your fifth fall in an hour." Joe pushed back his hat and looked at Griff speculatively.
"And a hard one too."
He was the youngest son, a charming good-looking guy with a knack for getting in trouble and a gift for getting out of it again.
"One more try." Griff didn´t wait for an answer.
"You know, sometimes I don´t know who is breaking whom." Adam wondered, while he watched Griff climbing back on the saddle.
"What do you mean?" Joe asked.
"Look at him. Every fight is something personal. Even with a horse."
"Mhm." Joe agreed.
He knew why.
Adam arrived back at the ranch just weeks ago after a long absence. He hadn´t heard Griff´s life story and Joe had a feeling, that it wasn´t his place to tell him. Griff would tell him eventually. And if not, so be it. Joe had been shocked about the fact that Griff had spent most of his youth in a prison. Surviving in prison as a boy was something you only accomplish by winning every single fight. Joe pondered on this thought for a while. Imagining being alone in a cage with murderers and crooks, Joe shivered involuntarily. He was happy Griff saved his father during a riot in the Nevada state prison, where the Cartwright patriarch was working as an inspector. Being the man he was, Ben took Griff with him to spend the time he still had under parole on the Ponderosa.
"LOOK OUT!"
The scream lashed over the paddock and made Joes head leap up. He had to look twice. A cougar, a damn real live cougar trotted through the fenced compound. Foam was covering his mouth and he eyed the spectacle next to him with an interested look. Rabies. Had to be.
At the same time Griff was in real trouble keeping the mare at the opposite side of the fold. While preventing the horse from getting near the cat he came dangerously close to the fence. The mare must have thought the same, because she started bashing him against the bare beams the second she could reach them. This time is was Griff who yelled but kept sticking stubbornly on the back of the brute.
Joe reacted purely on instinct. Pull the gun, aim, fire, everything happened in one fluent motion. He watched the cougar fall and heard Adams yell, it sounded angry.
After that he saw Griff. Startled by the shot the horse had made some sudden jumps backwards, catching Griff by surprise. He had been simply torn out of the saddle but with one of his boots still firmly attached to the stirrup. His head and shoulders scraped over the ground, as the mare tried, blinded by panic, to break through the fence.
Griff could feel his arm being tossed into one of the poles and he sensed something hit his back with force. Around him voices grew louder. He could hear screams, but he couldn´t make out the words.
Desperate he ripped at his boots and finally his foot came loose of the trapped boot.
His seventh collision with the ground knocked the wind right out of him, but he immediately started crawling, before this devils descendant was able to trample him for good.
Frantically he dragged himself through the dust, until something suddenly griped him under his armpits. He gave a surprised yell and heard a murmured: "I know, but we have to get you out of here."
He turned his head and saw the concentration in Joes face as he dragged Griff out of the paddock. He must have lost some seconds there, because the next thing he could remember was the wood of the fence at his back as he sat slumped against it and Joes hands tapping his legs carefully, Griff suppressed a groan as Joe pressed on his right thigh.
"Where did it get you?" asked Joe immediately.
"I'm OK, oh crap" said Griff, just because he felt good saying it. He lifted himself in a more upright position. He could see Adam, bowing over the dead cat's body, making sure not to touch it. Black spots started dancing in his field of vision, but with all the blows he took today he shouldn´t be surprised by that.
"Where is the beast?" He asked.
"I shot it." Joe was still crouching in front of him and observed him carefully.
"You shot the horse?"
"I shot the cat."
"Right, where is the horse? I could tell I was getting somewhere with it." Griff squinted a couple of times to get rid of the black dots and searched for support on the fence.
"Hey." Joe held him in place as he tried to get up.
"You're not going anywhere."
Griff looked up at Joe then noticing he looked quite pale.
"You all right?"
"Me?" Joe snorted:" I weren´t dragged through a paddock." He tried to make it sound light, but the hands that held Griff in place were still trembling.
Griff screwed his eyes up.
"I´m sorry." it suddenly broke out of Joe.
"You dragged me through that paddock?" Griff asked.
"I just shot. I didn´t think about the horse,"
Griff interrupted him before he had to listen to more of this nonsense.
"And how the hell did you plan to slay the cougar without a gun? Were you going to ask him politely to drop down dead? He could have bitten someone!" Griff let himself rest against the pole.
"And rabies is a pretty shitty death."
Joe nodded absent-mindedly, his face still plastered with guilt. So Griff made him fall with a good poke against his knee.
"What was that for?"
"It was not your fault! Got that?"
Griff's side and his lower back started pounding in a rhythm and now he was able to feel the splinters in his leg. This beast had tried to peel him alive.
"It´s dead" Adam said, as he got to his feet, wiping grit from his face.
"At last." growled Griff.
"Can we now get on?"
"You're kidding." Joe grimaced. He was still sitting in the dirt.
Griff reached out to Adam and let himself be helped to his feet.
"Not at all. Let´s get on. There are horses waiting." Griff's right leg simply went from under him and only Adams spirited grip saved him from his eights encounter with Mother Earth.
"All right, perhaps they will wait five minutes longer." He admitted while he was eased down again by Adam and Joe.
"Perhaps." Adam answered, his point accentuated by the onset of rolling thunder.
~0~
There had been much agitation and even more ado. Griff had reassured them over and over again that he was alright. Well, his head hurt and his shoulders and back would become very colourful, but next to that, he was fine. Except for the leg. The leg was bruised. That's it. Nothing some gentle rounds on the coral wouldn´t help.
"Look we have a contract to fill, let's get moving," Griff said, ignoring the looks of concern he was getting. Joe made a face to say he was able to spot a red herring when he saw one. After all, they had work to do. But let the matter drop. He knew Griff would just close up completely if he tried to push him. He regretted not having Candy with them who had known Griff before his incarceration and had a wire to the youth a lot more than anybody else. But he had gone off to Carson City with their father to take care of some errands and bring a new business partner with them on his way back. So Joe had to hope Griff would trust them enough to tell him if something really was wrong.
"At least take a bath." Adam told him, as they dismounted in front of the main house. Griff seemed to have trouble getting down from his horse, but shooed all well-meaning hands aside.
"You don´t smell like roses yourself." He murmured, gripping Thunders saddle horn for dear life as he tried to lock his knees in place.
To his surprise Adam laughed.
"You have to have your legs full of splinters with all your crashing into fences today. Having a soak will help with the soreness and the splinters will come out a lot easier."
He was right. Griff knew that much. Damn.
"I´ll take care of the horses." Joe took the bridles with a speed that left Griff swaying. Finally finding his balance he mumbled something as he made his way to the bunk house.
~0~
Adam watched the stiff movements of the youth and felt worry bubble up within him. He had seen how Griff was dragged by that animal. Several times the mare had tried to break through the fence and the sounds Griff had made as he was tossed against the fence had made Adam feel a little sick.
Still this boy had to be stubborn. What did he get out of it? Only pain. And Joe. Oh Joe. Adam had seen the guilt in his eyes. Yes it had been stupid. But Adam had to admit, he hadn´t come up with another solution. It was one of those occasions you had to choose between pest and cholera. Nobody died, so the solution had to be the right one.
Griff had simply stated that he was ok and had climbed on his horse. Just like that.
Adam sighed and made his way over to the kitchen and Hop Sing, their cook, to ask him to prepare a bath. In one of Hop Sings many chests there might be a little something that would be very valuable in Griff's bathwater. And after that he could look forward to an afternoon with all the joy and excitement one spontaneously connected with the term "paperwork".
~0~
Griff waited until the door had closed behind him, before he let himself grip the upper bunkbed. The world around him whirled and occasionally changed direction which made him come very near to losing his breakfast.
He growled as he levered himself into the lower bed and gingerly stretched his right leg. Oh crap!
Cautious, he laid his head in his hands and waited for the pounding behind his temples to decrease.
Back at the paddock he believed all of his bones had remained intact. He wasn´t so sure anymore. Carefully he slipped his hand beneath his jacket and touched the point where the horse had smashed him into the fence. It hurt. It hurt like hell. And as he looked at his hand he could see clotted blood sticking to it.
"Marvelous," He moaned.
"Griff, is that you?" the sudden voice made him jump, and his ribs really didn´t like the idea of jumping. Hunched over he saw two boots quickly come closer and Lucas concerned face appeared.
"Jesus! Griff, what happened?"
Griff snorted at the recollection of all that happened that morning. Lucas who had grabbed him by the shoulders misread his reaction and immediately let go again.
"I fell off a horse." Griff managed to get out and couldn't withhold a laugh. It hurt nearly as much as the fence.
Lucas stared at him with a crackerjacking lack of understanding. It was worth it for this face only.
Griff's beginnings with Lucas had been humble, but since then he had come to like Lucas. He was a kind heart and for some mysterious reason he was really considerate when it came to Griff.
Presumably Candy had a finger in the pie there, estimated Griff.
"You can´t go to bed like that. Is that blood?" Lucas had caught a glimpse of Griff's fingers.
"I'm just here to grab some new clothes. Damn brute slammed me into the fence. Adam thought a soak would help with the..." he interrupted himself,
"You know, splinters."
"Wait a second." Lucas face disappeared and Griff could hear him rummaging through something, he emerged seconds later, his right arm laid heavy with fresh clothes.
"You´re able to get up?" He asked.
"For Pete's sake!" Griff shooed the next volley of helping hands aside and hitched himself up at the frame of the upper bunk bed.
"I´ll manage."
Lukas watched the youth stumbling out of the bunk house and caught up with him.
"Wanted a wash myself. Mind if I come along?"
Griff shrugged his shoulders and regretted it immediately.
The bath was already set and concluding from the odors of the steam clouds contained a lot more than just soap. Lucas smiled and planned to thank Hop Sing sometime soon.
Candy had asked him to keep an eye on Griff. Lucas would have done it anyway. There was something about this youth that made him want to protect him. He heard what Griff had gone through and somewhere in Lucas mind the thought was well set that he would try to make up for the blows.
Griff had settled in pretty neatly by now, but Lucas couldn´t fail to notice that he more often than not would leave the bunk house to sleep beneath one of the old trees near the stable.
It was pure coincidence that Lucas found out what this was about. He came back late from an outpost and was surprised to hear a voice just outside the stable. It had been Griff and he had explained himself over and over again that nobody was going to lock him up here. As Lucas entered the cramped and stuffy bunk house he suddenly had known, which nightmare had driven Griff outside.
Lucas washed his face and left his towel near the washing bowl, so he could pick it up in about ten minutes, and look after Griff without admitting he looked after Griff. He asked the youth if he should help him, as he had seen him stand, still fully dressed next to the bath. As expected he was met with a rebuff.
Lucas stepped out on the court and saw Joe closing the barn door. He looked exhausted although it was only noon. Something was not quite right – stretching his back he started walking towards Joe – and whatever it was, he would get to the bottom of it.