Dusty View
Joe Cartwright stopped what he was doing and ran a hand over his sweaty brow. Pitchin' hay wasn't one of his favorite things, but right now he would have been happy cleanin' out the cistern.
Well, maybe not the cistern.
Still, he was having a great day – for once. His Pa and middle brother were in town and that left Adam in charge. Now, usually, that was the makin' of a bad day, but for once Adam had been in a good mood. He'd even let him take a go at the big gray that was known for tossin' even the most seasoned riders off his back as easy as a kitten hoppin' over a caterpillar. He'd lasted longer than any of them and he was mighty proud of it. The only downside was that Adam forbid him to try it again, at least today. The gray, big brother said, had his color up and was lookin' to hurt someone and he didn't want it to be his little brother – especially on his watch.
Now, normally, that would have made him madder than a rained on rooster. Mainly, that 'little brother' part. But Adam had followed it up by puttin' his arm around his shoulders and repeating what he' d said, adding that, if he kept it up, one day he'd be the best bronco buster on the Ponderosa.
Wow.
Just...wow.
With a smile on his face, Joe went back to forkin' hay, hummin' a little ditty as he did. It was called 'The Horse Wrangler'. The one verse, especially, always made him laugh.
They took me up and carried me in
And rubbed me down with an old stake pin.
"That's the way they all begin;
You're doing well," says Brown.
'And in the morning, if you don't die,
I'll give you another horse to try.'
Joe stopped. He leaned on the rake and turned toward the corral. A slow smile spread across his face. Adam had gone into the house to work on the books. Deke was still at the corral. Since he was the owner's son, Deke wouldn't question him climbin' up and givin' it another go. After all, Adam had said he was a natural right in front of him.
Wouldn't big brother be surprised if he tamed the gray?
In fact, it would be kind of like a gift. Pa'd said he wanted the gray broke by the time he got back.
Hadn't he?
xxxxxxxxxx
Inside the ranch house Adam Cartwright was knee-deep in paper – literally. The wind coming through the open window had knocked a high stack to the floor. With a sigh, he bent to pick it up. Sometimes it seemed Pa might be taking advantage of him. Of course, paperwork wasn't Pa's favorite thing to do. The older man would rather wrangle a steer than numbers. And while he liked to sink his teeth into a good mathematical problem now and then, there was only so much...meat one could eat in one sitting.
Maybe he'd just go outside and see what Little Joe was up too. After all, he hadn't seen his fourteen year old brother in a good two hours and that was probably some kind of a record where Joe was concerned for keeping out of trouble.
As Adam bent to retrieve one of the papers that had escaped he paused. As he did, the strangest sensation shivered along his spine. He'd been here before, in this moment – picking up this paper, feeling the wind on his neck and feeling as well some vague sense of unease where his little brother was concerned.
Actually, it made him sick to his stomach.
It was nonsense, of course. He'd studied the phenomena in college. It was called Déjà Vu. His professors had considered it a 'disorder' of the memory. In a discussion one day where the college chaplain participated, Reverend Andrews had argued that more attention should be paid to the phenomena's secondary aspect – mainly, a feeling of conviction. The parson said it was his belief that God used it to speak into everyday situations.
The two men in Adam Cartwright warred for a moment – the cool rational one who dismissed such notions as archaic and foolish, and the spiritual creature his father had reared who knew there were indeed times where God made Himself known.
And then he dropped the paper and took off running.
xxxxxxxxxx
Deke, the old cowhand who'd been with his father for years, eyed Joe as he clambered up to sit on top of the fence next to the horse the hands called 'Dusty', short for 'Dust Devil'. The gray got the name for fact that he kicked up a storm anytime anyone tried to sit on his back. Deke shook his head as he eyed the horse and then him.
"You sure you got permission to try this, Little Joe? Dusty here's got the devil in his eyes tonight."
"You heard Adam this afternoon," Joe said, blustering his way through. "He said I could do it."
Deke pushed his hat back, revealing his thinning hair. After a moment he said, "Well...I guess I did hear him say somethin' like that."
"You see?" Joe looked at the horse. He was magnificent. 'Primal' his pa called the type. A force of nature.
Little did Little Joe know as he made to throw his leg over the gray's back that he was about to collide with a force of nature next to which the powerful Dust Devil would pale.
"JOSEPH FRANCIS CARTWRIGHT WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"
Joe froze at the sound of his brother's voice as a sense of unease washed over him.
Hadn't he been here before?
About an hour later Joseph Francis and his brother Adam Stoddard experienced a third shared moment of unease and conviction.
After which the latter went back to his paperwork and the former went to bed since he could no longer sit down.