Before the Hanging

He had been irritated, no—downright shocked. He had sat in the sheriff's office feeling like an idiot. Why had nobody gone with his father when he'd escorted the judge to the stage? Sam Bryant's threats were not in the least veiled. But neither Pa nor anyone else had thought he could be kidnapped in the middle of the street.

It was Hoss who eventually had come up with an idea to free Pa without giving in to Bryant's blackmail. His plan wasn't without problems and risks but it was, at least, a plan. They had not responded, in hopes that the messenger would return. The sheriff had taken Hoss and Joe with him to watch for and follow him. Adam was ordered to stay in the jail. He didn't like having his brothers do the dangerous job while he could only wait. At least he should get his brain working again.

Adam Cartwright walked through the office. His footsteps stirred a mad laughter from the prisoner. He tried to ignore it.

Sam Bryant surely wasn't a fool. To kidnap Pa was a better tactic than to try and free Farmer Perkins by force. Against five guns it would have been dangerous, maybe impossible, and Bryant wasn't the man to take an unnecessary risk.

He hoped the expected messenger would really go back to Bryant or maybe send another person they could follow. Bryant certainly needed confirmation. But what if the messenger used a horse? That would be impossible to follow secretly.

Footsteps on the veranda…Adam's head jerked immediately to the front door. A hammering. Give him time, don't disturb him. Silence.

Cautiously Adam opened the door and stepped outside, scanned the shadows before him, gun in hand, then turned slowly again. He was sure to be watched from the dark, but the man wouldn't shoot him. Nevertheless, Adam snatched the paper from its nail and closed the door quickly. Yes, again the order to let Farmer Perkins go or Ben Cartwright would hang. Adam stood next to the door listening for noises.

He was about to release the breath he had held in when he heard gunshots not far away. His heartbeat paused for a moment and he needed all his willpower not to run outside. Instead he groaned in frustration, and it was Farmer's luck the man was silent in that moment.

Something had gone wrong. Why hadn't he insisted that he go with the sheriff and take the risk? Oh Lord, please, see that my brothers are unharmed, please, he prayed silently, while he laid two loaded rifles handy on the desk, filled his pockets with bullets, and drew his pistol. Listening. Would Bryant's men guess he was alone? There was not only Perkins the murderer in here but also Beth Cameron, who his father had promised to protect, sleeping in the sheriff's room. The witness whose testimony had led to the murder conviction after her husband was killed in cold blood.

Minutes went by, maybe half an hour.

Eventually voices from the outside. A familiar knocking. His brothers were back.

The sheriff had been wounded. His brothers had had to take him to the doctor's office. His life was in danger. The messenger was dead. Thank heavens Joe was such a good shot or it could have been him lying in that alley after the messenger had become suspicious.

Now the three of them stood alone against a gang that held their father hostage. The hammering on the gallows echoed loudly through the office.

OOOOOO

Another half an hour went by. Only three hours remained until dawn, and Farmer Perkins' hanging.

A couple hours ago Adam and his brothers had listened to the advice of the sheriff to let Perkins go and had all vehemently refused, just as none of them had hesitated in the afternoon to take the star and the responsibility of a deputy after Pa did. Their father had instilled into all his sons a strong sense of right. Mostly by living it, being a role model. And he had always expected Adam to set the same good example.

How would Pa handle the situation? They were deputies because Pa wanted to make the death of Cameron not in vain; Cameron, who had courageously refused to pay the protection money. Pa had tried to make sure that his killer would be punished, and he would want it now.

Adam watched his brothers walking up and down nervously. The tension in the small office increased each minute. Was Joe disappointed that Adam had no easy solution, no ace up his sleeve? He wished desperately himself he had, but no, Bryant held all the trumps.

After the death of the messenger they'd lost their chance to find Pa, they didn't possess the manpower for a search party, and the townspeople wouldn't cooperate.

He needed a weak point where he could start.

Who was this Bryant who was so absolutely sure nobody would dare to cross his plans? He had seen Sam Bryant a few times in town, in the bank, in the saloon, always acting very self-assured, always with a few other men behind him. The plump man with his good manners and well-tailored suit reminded him of a kind of bully he had met more than once in his years on the road as a child, and in a refined way even back East. Insolent if the authorities were weak, but when there was any kind of danger involved, they ensnared and encouraged others, while themselves escaping the consequences. There were bullies you had to show respect in order to save your hide; others you could fight with to earn their respect. But Bryant's kind of bully used his intelligence and had his men do the fighting. A victim would never be safe regardless of how he acted because as long as there was no risk to himself, Bryant would keep on bullying.

What if they went ahead and hanged Perkins? Wouldn't it show Bryant that murderers would be punished? Would he dare to commit a crime that could cost him his life, knowing the law would be enforced? Maybe going straight forward was the way to rescue Pa. Maybe. If they set Farmer free they had no guarantee the gang would let Pa go. If his judgement was true, the risk of losing Pa was even higher if they followed Bryant's blackmail. Maybe not a lot… Adam massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to prevent the headache that was coming.

Adam looked again at his brothers, who glared back at him impatiently. Would they still hold to their declaration to hang Perkins? Would they follow through?

When Hoss said how worried he was about Pa, the long-dreaded argument began. Both his brothers were desperate to do something, to find clues. Couldn't they understand they wouldn't? Nobody would tell them the truth; the town was full of spies and everybody knew it. He didn't know what other action they could try.

Thinking, analyzing, figuring things out was not "doing nothing," as Hoss called it, but Joe's angry glare showed him that both his younger brothers agreed he was only sitting around.

If his brothers wanted to hang Perkins anyway because it was what Pa would do, he could easily explain to them what he thought about Bryant, how doing that was their best option. If not, it would be very difficult to convince them.

He went on pressing his brothers for an answer about the hanging, until Joe burst out that he wouldn't play a "question and answer game" while somebody threatened to kill his father. That ended their conversation; now they were both angry. Hoss, as usual, acted as peacemaker. Maybe Joe would come to the same conclusions if he put it to him differently?

"What do you think Bryant will do if dawn comes and he sees we simply had hanged Farmer Perkins?"

"Regardless of what he said he would do to my pa?"

Joe was upset again, so Adam tried to be as calm as possible.

"Regardless."

"What if you are wrong, Adam? Standing at my father's grave and saying, 'I'm sorry, Pa. I made a big mistake?'"

Somehow this statement had subverted his defense. It was no more than two seconds, but he couldn't stop the old memory, the one he guarded himself against like a nightmare, from escaping his custody. He saw again the muddy track into the woods and the legs under ruffled patterned skirts—he was following, running to where the bad accident had happened, saw the big splintered trunk across the clearing, saw the puddles of blood and bone around it, saw the bodies covered with blankets. And for a moment again his world became only a black velvet cloth of loneliness as he scanned the surviving lumberjacks and saw his father wasn't with them.

"He's my father, too." It wasn't easy to answer calmly. He would have liked to let Joe see how afraid he was, how afraid he had been for half his life of losing his father. But he couldn't express this to Joe. Neither could he admit how mentally exhausted his father's kidnapping had left him. Letting his weakness or feelings control him wouldn't make anything better. And so he tried to tell Joe as reasonably as possible that, whatever they did, Bryant wouldn't have any qualms about killing Pa if he thought he could get away with it. Had Jo believed that, at least?

OOOOOOO

Hoss and Joe nevertheless insisted they should go out into the saloons to try and find some information. They still hoped to avoid the choice that Bryant had set before them. Sometimes it was best to solve a situation by changing the circumstances, but he didn't believe Bryant would let it happen. The man was clever. Nevertheless, he hadn't stopped Hoss and Joe; he had been afraid it would only provoke another argument. Could he deny his brothers doing what they thought was the right thing to do? He was sure it was senseless. Or maybe very probably senseless. That it could be dangerous he hadn't mentioned. If it came to an emergency, the hangman and his assistant would help him to defend the jail. If they still could. For his brothers, he hoped their status as deputies making their investigations would protect them at least from the townspeople.

How long had they been gone now? More than an hour.

Pa would let him hear something about letting his little brothers go into danger. Adam gulped painfully. How was Pa doing? He would break Bryant—each of his bones personally—if he did any harm to his father! If it was the last thing he did in his life.

Did Joe really think he didn't care for Pa? And even Hoss? Did they believe he would gamble with Pa's life deliberately? Didn't they see he tried to find out how to win against Bryant?

His eyes were burning; it must be they were overly tired after nearly 24 hours without sleep. If he rubbed them, it would make it worse. Instead his hand went to his left earlobe.

All right, maybe it was a kind of a game, a match, a duel, but not one they could avoid. And how could they win against a gang if they didn't try to use the law against them?

OOOOOOO

Adam stood and walked up and down in the office. He was worried about his brothers; perhaps they had been kidnapped too. Only ninety minutes left.

As a sheriff, he had to carry on with his duties. Wasn't it ridiculous that his conscience, when reminding him of an unpleasant duty, still used his father's voice? He heard it clearly: 'There is a man that is going to be hanged; you have to ask him if he would like to see a preacher. And it doesn't matter if you like or dislike him!' Adam was glad to obey, here wasn't a decision to be made and it felt good to know he did what was expected.

When he opened the door to the cell block, Perkins's jeering laughter greeted him. And worse, he not only denied wanting to see a preacher but even admitted he had once killed one only because the man had tried to preach to him. He was so darn sure his boss would rescue him. Farmer would die, whether he believed it or not—but was Bryant the man Adam thought he was? Farmer was so sure about him. Was he maybe not the smart type of a bully, who only protected his own interests? When Adam looked at Farmer, it was clear that Bryant had gathered around him men who were insane and without any kind of mercy.

There had been no need to kill Cameron. Only an insane man killed the cow he planned to milk. In the hands of those men, Pa wouldn't have a chance. They wouldn't him let go whether Perkins lived or died.

When Adam felt the hairs at the back of his neck bristle, he knew he had to leave because he couldn't bear the man's mocking and laughter a moment longer without flattening his insolent face.

OOOOOOO

One hour left until dawn. The pressure behind his eyes kept increasing. He should make sure that Bryant knew what to expect. There shouldn't be any kind of misunderstanding.

The hangman and his helper would take care of the jail for the time they were out. He didn't need much time for his message to Bryant. It was short: You will be charged and hanged for murder, if you kill my father.

Adam was gladder than he dared show that his brothers were back and would come with him to the saloon.

When he started to speak, he knew he was standing in a lions' den, but the more of Bryant's men who heard him, the better. His announcement would surely reach Bryant. Again, mocking and laughter, the threat of violence—but his brothers backed him up. Only when they were outside again did Hoss ask him if it was the badge that made him do as he did, and what he would do if his bluff didn't work.

In that moment, he had to get away from his brothers. He had still been hoping, now that they knew everything depended on how Bryant would react, that they would back him up, that he could convince them his way was the least dangerous. But obviously he couldn't. Or did they think there was a way without any risk? Surely they understood that, even if they'd found Pa, freeing a hostage was always most dangerous for that hostage, especially when the would-be liberators were outnumbered.

Hoss had never been a good poker player. Adam wasn't bluffing. Only his calm was a bluff. He hoped that Bryant would fold, but knew he wouldn't if his antagonist showed any flutter of nerves.

Yes, Hoss, I have thought about what will happen if I lose. I have! And no, I'm not the kind of man who would sacrifice our father for principles or rules. Following principles was a personal decision. Pa would sacrifice himself and he himself would, if it concerned only their own lives. He believed his brothers would, too. Pa had showed last spring, when they were both sentenced to hang, that he didn't want the law broken even for his own rescue. But neither Pa nor he would sacrifice a person they loved over a principle. Adam moved his jaw a little, relaxing the clenched muscles, as he remembered the aftermath of that long-ago logging accident.

While he was standing numbly in that clearing, suddenly an arm had scooped him up and pressed him against a strong breast. He clung to his father with all his might, breathing in the smell of his Pa, the bright sunshine nearly blinding his eyes. Pa's left arm had been scraped raw and was bandaged, but he had carried him all the way home. Adam's lips twitched a little as he remembered how proud he had felt that he could literally pull his own weight because he had clung so fiercely to his father that Pa didn't need his wounded arm to support him.

When they had reached their lodgings, they sat on a bench in front of the house, he in his father's lap still holding on to Pa, his father rocking him slowly. After a while a thought had hit him. He had broken all Pa's important rules, had left the room, the yard, even the settlement without permission when he had heard the women crying about the accident in the lumber camp, and he was sure there had to be consequences. But when he told his father that, Pa had only kissed his hair softly and had said, 'It was a terrible day for both of us. Sometimes consequences aren't only punishments. Today we need to be together and nothing else. Love is more important than rules.' Then they had sat on that bench together half the night and even after he had fallen asleep his Pa had held him in his secure embrace.

He had always cherished this part of the memory as a child, especially when he felt alone or things with Pa hadn't been so good. But now recalling that happy moment only choked him.

OOOOOOOO

Only a quarter of an hour left. The decision had to be made.

The point was: Would Bryant and his brutal gang let Pa go when they had nothing to fear?

Or was cowardice the Achilles' heel of Bryant, and he wouldn't dare to kill Pa?

He couldn't make the risks go away. He could only calculate as best as he could. And if the worst happened, nobody could know if the other decision would have been better. Not even he himself…

Maybe it was for the best that it was up to him; maybe Pa would appreciate that his younger sons were out of it. As the eldest he couldn't evade the responsibility and now there was only one way:

Forward!

OOOOOOOO

The hanging went faster than he had expected. But even though he averted his eyes, he still heard the noises. Breaking a neck wasn't a silent thing. Would this sound follow him the rest of his life, only becoming his father's neck snapping instead?

Adam sucked in his breath through clenched teeth when he turned from the gallows, hoping none of the spectators behind him could see how hard he had to fight to maintain his composure.

A sudden yelling rose from the opposite side of the building. He could make out Joe's voice and the thudding of fists as he ran around the corner towards the commotion. His knees began to tremble as he saw Bryant come down the street leading his father. The man was sweating and proclaiming his innocence, even more of a coward than Adam had thought possible. Evidently the youngest of the gang felt the same; he broke free from Joe and, mad with disappointment, shot Bryant dead. Before he could fire again, the three guns of the Cartwright brothers silenced his shooting quickly and forever.

When Adam touched his father, icy shudders ran up and down his spine. Maybe I've caught a cold, he thought. It had been uncomfortably cool in the early morning.

Thanks to Sklamb and Sandspur for the beta.