Author's note: Hi all! It's been awhile, I know, but with moving once, then moving twice, job changes and the stress that those bring, well, writing had to take a back seat. That said, I'll never be as prolific as most of you, who seem to pop out with stories at will! I'm incredibly impressed with the work you all do, and seemingly effortlessly, too. Hats off!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Duke. The bad guys, now them I gotta claim, whether I want to or not. Oh, and also one of the good guys. But they won't happen along until later.
Cheers!
Chapter 1 – Twisted Ankles and Sore Toes
When Bo lost his balance, Luke's first instinct was to snicker. Oh, he was going to offer his cousin a hand up, too, but not before giving him a hard time about going down in the first place. Once again, the blonde had been too easily distracted. Instead of paying attention to the rough terrain at the slope's edge, where they had been walking, he'd been complaining and getting himself worked up. The older boy didn't really blame Bo for his frustration; he was also annoyed that they were reduced to walking. Still, the drill sergeant in the back of his mind reminded him that there was no excuse for carelessness.
Luke's laugher died in his throat as he watched the way his cousin went down. First there was the way his leg twisted, and then there was the fact that he wasn't able to catch himself so he fell further than he should have. The landing didn't look very comfortable either. Plus there was the holler of pain, followed by silence. It took Luke less than a second to process all of this information and begin to respond.
"Bo!" he called, making his way as carefully and quickly as possible towards where his cousin lay. He tried not to dislodge any more dirt or rocks from the hillside, not wanting to send any debris to land on his remarkably still cousin.
"Bo!" Luke was just about there when the blonde shifted slightly and moaned. Finally, he was close enough to touch the younger man. "You awake?"
"Yeah," Bo groaned, shaking his head to try to dispel the muzziness. The movement only served to make him dizzy.
"Easy, Bo. Hold still for me now. What hurts?"
"Well, my leg hurts pretty steady, and my head bothers me when I move it."
The elder Duke boy retrieved rusty field doctoring skills from the depths of his mind. He'd stored away his military experiences and he very rarely chose to open that vault, but today he'd have to. Bo was hurt and Luke would hold back nothing where his younger cousin was concerned.
The head was likely a mild concussion, and there was nothing to be done for that except to get the boy to a real doctor. The brunette checked his cousin's leg, trying to be gentle, but there was no way to touch him without causing some pain. As Bo bit his lip, Luke determined that while no bones were broken, the tenderness of the area indicated at least a sprain, if not an internal tear. His cousin wouldn't be able to walk on his own.
When he was satisfied that he understood enough about where and how Bo was hurting, Luke used his soldier's eyes to assess the terrain. He was loathe to leave the injured boy alone, which meant that somehow the two of them would have to make their way back up the 25 feet or so that Bo had fallen into the ravine, over the unstable ground, strewn with loose stones and soft soil. They'd have to get to the top without rest, but Luke was sure they could. The problem was that even after they'd safely crested the ridge, they still had a long walk home. As daunting as it seemed, the older cousin determined that it was what they'd have to do, because he wasn't going to leave Bo behind.
"Cousin," Luke began, while placing a supportive arm around the younger man's waist, "we're going to need to stand you up and then get ourselves back up there."
The blonde looked where his cousin pointed and tried to get to his feet with help from a slightly startled Luke. "M'still dizzy," Bo mumbled, sliding back down.
"It's okay, Bo, just sit a minute. I didn't mean we had to go right now." Just like his younger cousin, Luke thought, trying to bounce right back to his feet after a fall like that. Not for the first time, the brunette mentally likened Bo to a horse. As a child the boy had been as spindly-legged as a colt, never as strong or naturally athletic as Luke, but bound and determined to keep up with his older cousin all the same. As he grew and his muscles developed, he became more of a racer, strong, sure and raring to go. If you asked Bo today, he might describe himself as a stud, but to Luke he was still that racing stallion, who, despite a leg injury, was trying to beat the odds and come in first.
"It's all right to place once in a while, cuz," Luke muttered, not aware that he'd spoken aloud until a confused sound came from the blonde's throat. Deciding against trying to explain his train of thought, the older boy simply asked, "Ready to try again?"
"Yeah," Bo answered, already pushing himself up. His cousin strengthened his grip, and together they rose. Once he was confident that he could remain on his feet, Bo nodded to the man at his side, and they slowly and cautiously began their ascent.
Sheriff Rosco Coltrane swallowed his embarrassment. He was going to have to find a way to explain his current situation to his boss. The aging lawman had learned that the man's bark was worse than his bite, but it didn't much matter. Rosco was easy to rile and the county commissioner knew it. He seemed to enjoy making the sheriff squirm with just a few carefully chosen words.
The sheriff adjusted his Stetson hat and opened the trunk of his squad car to pull out a length of chain. At least he'd managed to capture a car, if not the criminal drivers, and he would be able to tow both the vehicle and the evidence it contained back to town.
The lawman was losing his instincts and he knew it. The cause was not one hundred percent clear to him, though he figured it was one of two things. He hoped it wasn't the natural aging process, because he really wasn't that old, at least to his own mind. After all, there was so much he hadn't experienced yet: love, marriage, children. Plus he'd always wanted to travel, maybe even clean out of Georgia someday. And since he hadn't done any of those things yet, it stood to reason that he must be young, though he'd passed the age of fifty some years back. So he genuinely hoped that the loss of his street smarts was the result of having sold his soul to Hogg a couple of years back.
Most of the time he figured it to be an even trade: his policing skills in exchange for a cut of the take, and his lonely independence for the companionship of another human being. But on days like today, when he had actually caught the Duke boys transporting an illegal substance, but wound up with only the vehicle they'd been driving, after having been bamboozled again, well, he didn't gave a damn about "take" and "companionship." Instead of the criminals, all he had was the contraband and the car, and the latter wasn't even the General Lee. If he'd at least managed to snag Bo and Luke's orange stock car, he knew he would have been hitting them where they lived. But this was just a plain vanilla loaner sedan.
Rosco was unhappy. Boss was going to be livid.
Jesse Duke was out tending to Maudine when his big toe began to hurt. He eyed the old mule, carefully checking her healing wounds for infection. On top of being a mule, the animal was a Duke, and that made her doubly stubborn. Jesse had no doubt that given the chance, she'd re-injure herself just to show the old man who was boss. Confined to the stall as she was, she could only match the Duke patriarch's stare with one of her own. She was the seventh mule that Jesse had owned over his lifetime, and by far the most obstinate animal the farmer had even known. Which made her his favorite.
Two weeks back the farmer had been clearing away the debris after a late spring storm. A few trees had been lost, and while it was their time to go, Jesse could not tolerate waste. With the help of his aging mule, the white haired man had been hauling the trunks back up towards the house, where he'd have his nephews saw and ultimately chop them into firewood. Those boys of his needed plenty of hard work to take some of the energy out of them. If he didn't come up with grueling chores like this to wear them out, only the lord knew how much trouble they'd get into. They were good kids really, or they intended to be, but they'd certainly caused their uncle a great deal of grief. Of course, without them and their female cousin, he wouldn't be the Duke patriarch. He'd just be "old man Duke" living on his own and pitied by his neighbors. He wouldn't trade Bo, Luke and Daisy for anything in the world.
But those boys certainly could use a few more lessons in tradition. The never did understand why their uncle would use a mule to haul wood when the family owned a tractor, a work truck and a pickup, all of which could have been used to transport the remains of those trees to the old farmhouse. Heck, they'd even put their prized possession, the General Lee, to the task before they'd allow Maudine to do it. Their heads were stuck in engines and electronics, and they didn't always understand the value of more tried and true methods. Those boys went through tires, quarter panels, bumpers and paint as if such things were crops they could plant in one of the back fields of Duke land. And then there was gas.
Generally Maudine was much cheaper to run than any of the family's automobiles. Her fuel was often free, or at least reasonably inexpensive; the Dukes had plenty of hay and oats could be gotten remarkably cheaply in Rhuebottom's General Store. Maudine never blew a hoof, and rarely sustained body damage. Except that day when Jesse had been hauling the fallen trees. Just as man and mule were passing through the gate closest to the farmhouse, the boys' friend Cooter had arrived in his latest pride and joy, a Chevrolet Camaro that was long on looks but still needed some mechanical attention. If there was anyone with less sense than Jesse's own nephews, it would be that half-crazy mechanic. Only he would show up in a car that ran loud enough to wake the dead, and then blow the horn to boot.
Maudine, who'd been barely agreeable all day, took the intrusive sound as a final insult and, rearing slightly upward, turned away from where Jesse had been steering her. She moved incredibly quickly, despite the burden of both tree and farmer dragging behind her. Jesse tried his best to redirect the mule, but she was bound and determined to head for the barbed wire fence, and the old man's only option was to let her go or he'd be dragged along on his backside.
As if finally spotting the danger ahead, Maudine had turned at the last moment so that instead of hurling herself directly at the wire, she instead impaled her side on the sharp barbs. Not content with the injuries this caused, the animal let out a pain-filled whinny, then continued forward, tearing open several good-sized lacerations. Finally the log behind her had gotten hooked on a post, forcing her to stop all forward momentum, though the rearing and stamping continued.
What had begun as a battle of the wills between man and beast had become so painful and frightening for Maudine that she actually responded to her owner's gentle voice. As Jesse carefully approached the wounded animal, he was reminded of the many times that Bo and Luke had been so sure they were smarter than their uncle, had gone off and gotten into who-knew-what kind of trouble, and he'd had to come and rescue his hurt or frightened boys. Just like the mule, they'd suddenly changed their opinion of him, welcoming his help after the fact. Yep, it was a good thing that Jesse was a forgiving man.
An hour later, after he'd unharnessed the mule and returned her to the security of her stall, the Duke patriarch assessed the damage and determined that he'd need to consult the new veterinarian, Dr. Wooster. Ol' Doc Beech, who'd served the livestock and pets of Hazzard County since Jesse himself was a pup, had finally retired and moved in with his daughter last year. This new man, Wooster, had arrived about six months ago and set up his own practice. While definitely an outsider by Hazzard standards, being from New York, the doctor had been welcomed by Appalachian town all the same. Hazzardites were a friendly sort, it was true. However, they were warmer than usual to this stranger because of their need for a veterinarian. Doc Petticord could only be but so helpful when it came to patients with more than two legs.
Jesse would have preferred to care for Maudine himself, but some of the tears in her flesh were deep and he wasn't sure whether there might even have been some muscular damage, so he made the call. And Dr. Wooster, not having been a lifetime member of the Hazzard community, had been helpful and friendly, but firm in his insistence that he did not take credit. Jesse had been about to sadly send the vet back to town without him even looking at the mule, when Bo, Luke, and a very guilty looking Cooter joined Jesse and the doctor in the barn.
"You know, Mr. Duke, I think I have a solution to our problem," the doctor suggested. "Perhaps we could work out a trade after all, wherein I take care of your mule, and in exchange your sons there could do some work for me over the next couple of weeks."
Cooter snickered, Bo elbowed the mechanic, and Luke studied the doctor carefully. He didn't like being volunteered for unexplained work detail by a man he was just now meeting for the first time.
"Dr. Wooster, let me introduce my nephews, Bo and Luke, and their friend, Cooter," Jesse intervened, emphasizing the relationships amongst the men.
After a cordial greeting, Luke got straight down to business.
"What exactly did you have in mind for me and Bo to do in exchange for fixing up ol' Maudine there?"
"Well, now, nothing too much young man. Just courier work, mostly. What with all the house calls I make in a day, I don't get the chance to go back and forth to Capitol City to pick up new shipments drop off my medical waste. You see, the things I have to discard, you can't just put into a regular dumpster. It's got to go to an official medical waste site. And there are some large mammal narcotics that can't be shipped through the mail, because they could be intercepted and abused by those without medical qualifications.
"Me and Luke ain't got medical qualifications neither. Why would we be allowed to pick up something that can't be shipped through the mail?"
"You boys aren't narcotics abusers, are you?"
"No," both boys answered before looking at each other with raised eyebrows. They didn't much care for this new veterinarian.
"Then I can sign a release form that will allow you to accept and transport them."
The boys' eyes met again. An eyebrow raised, one shoulder shrugged. There was a slight tipping of one head, followed by another, and then Luke spoke for them both: "If it's what you want, Jesse, then we'll do it."
What Jesse wanted was not to be in this position at all. However, when he thought about it, had the doctor been a lifelong neighbor that needed help, he would have offered the services of his boys for free. Jesse's instincts reminded him that everyone was a friend until proven differently, and so he'd be glad to have Bo and Luke help this man until his practice was sufficiently settled to allow him to hire a real courier.
"All right, Dr. Wooster, you've got a deal."
And now, two weeks later, that's where those boys were. Jesse, having ascertained that it was not Maudine that was causing his big toe to hurt, now knew what he'd suspected all along: it must be Bo and Luke. Leave it to those two to find trouble doing a simple odd job.
"You and them boys is the reason there's so much snow on this here mountain-top," Jesse informed the beast, pointing to his own head.
"Luke… need to rest," Bo whispered. They'd covered more than half the distance back to the farm, and Bo had made a valiant effort, but it was obvious that he was flagging. Luke led him to a fallen log for a break. They'd only been there long enough for a single breeze to cool the back of Luke's neck when he saw his younger cousin's chin falling forward towards his chest.
"Bo! Stay awake!" Luke shouted, alarmed.
"Mmmph," was all that Bo got out before his body followed the momentum of his head, rushing forward towards the dirt and dry leaves at his feet.
