A Father's Justified Instincts!
By No1butjoe
Disclaimer - I don't own the Cartwrights or anything related to Bonanza.
Summary - He was just going to retrieve the mail. What he found instead was a whole lot of trouble.
"Pa, I'll be fine."It was the last thing Joe had said to him, his voice edged with irritation as he'd hurriedly fastened his gun belt and plucked his hat from the sideboard. He'd been eager to leave; even more so than usual thanks to the hovering attention of a concerned Ben couldn't shake the nagging feeling in his gut he'd felt from the moment he had awakened that morning. A feeling that something was off, or wrong, or something was going to happen, and that it would surely involve his morning passed without incident, and soon logic reared its head and effectively stifled the nervousness to a mere hum, easily ignored as Ben busied himself with his daily tasks. There was nothing to worry about, after all. Joe was just going into town for the mail; something he'd done a hundred times before. Nothing to worry a father's instinct is a stubborn thing, and Ben found himself surrendering to the feeling of unease as the day progressed . Adam later came upon him pacing the floor and glancing anxiously at the clock. He didn't need to be told why his father was so agitated."How late is he?" Adam asked quietly."Late," Ben replied. "He should have been back two , three hours ago.""Pa, he'll be fine," Adam admonished. "Joe's not a little kid anymore. You've got to stop doing this to yourself."Ben forced a smile. "I know. Old habits die hard, don't they?"Adam sighed. "I think I'll head out and see if Hoss needs any help in the barn," he said, clearly in a hurry to rid himself of the company of an over-anxious picked up the newspaper and tried to concentrate on the words in front of him. Adam was right, of course he was right. It was perfectly fine for a parent to worry, but not so fine to be consumed by it. Ben knew he could go on and on listing the numerous perils that could befall his son - both real and imagined - and he couldn't help but chuckle at the absurd direction of his thoughts. He'd have to tell Joe later how silly he'd been. His amusement, however, was abruptly extinguished at the sound of the slamming door, and Adam's urgent voice on its heels."Pa! PA! Come quick!"
Ben didn't even wait for an explanation for his oldest son's shouting. After years of raising him and his brothers, he'd picked up on the different tones of all his son's voices. But, tonight, Adam's had a certain note in it that caused his blood to run cold as he quickly stood, only to watch in shock as Hoss carried a prone figure into the house and laid him on the settee. Adam followed close behind Hoss, as if his younger brother might need his help.
"Adam, who is it?" Ben asked as he hurried to the settee.
His breath caught in his throat when he finally recognized the figure, who was moaning and tossing his head back and forth. Ben could barely recognize the face of his youngest son. Bruises adorned the youngest Cartwright's face, a split lip adding blood into the mix. One of Joe's eyes was swollen shut, a cut above it, indicating a blunt object had made contact there.
"He looks like he was kicked by a mule a few too many times, Pa," Hoss said, never taking his eyes off of his younger brother.
Ben heard Hoss' words, but the determined set of his jaw and the worry and fear set in his eyes made it clear that he didn't agree with the younger man's assumption.
"No, these marks weren't made by an animal," he argued and then paused before adding, "At least, not the four-legged kind."
Hoss looked at Joe again and nodded, noticing the cuts and bruises didn't match hoof prints of any sort. At that moment, Joe groaned loudly and his one eye that wasn't swollen slowly opened a little. Ben sat on the coffee table next to the settee and gently placed his hand on Joe's arm.
"Joe? Can you hear me, Son?" he asked, softly.
Joe's lips parted slowly, the blood caking them cracking as he tried to speak. Ben swallowed the lump in his throat as he heard Joe whisper his name weakly.
"It's all right, Joe, I'm here," Ben reassured him.
"I found him laying in the back of the barn in the hay, Pa," Adam spoke up. "There's no telling how long he was out there before I found him."
Ben listened to the words, but his eyes were for Joe and Joe only. The younger man's eye closed again and that spurred Ben into action.
"Adam, ride for Doc Martin," he instructed, anxiously. "Tell him the details of how you found Joe and how badly he's hurt."
Ben waited until Adam was out the door and hoof beats announced his leaving the yard on Sport before turning to his middle son.
"Hoss, get a washcloth and some warm water," he said, turning his gaze back to Joe. "We need to clean these cuts and bruises as best we can before Paul gets here."
Hoss nodded and hurried into the kitchen.
"Joe, I need you to open your eyes," Ben whispered softly, moving to touch Joe's cheek, but deciding against it as he noticed more bruises adorning the area. Instead, he satisfied himself with putting his hand on top of Joe's head, his fingers gently entangling and stroking the dirt-filled curls.
In response to his voice, Joe's one eye fluttered a moment before opening completely. Ben smiled reassuringly at him, trying to hold in the vast amount of emotions that threatened to burst through.
"It's all right, boy," Ben whispered, pausing afterwards.
Joe wasn't a boy anymore, he reasoned, but he'd always be his litle boy no matter what.
"P-Pa," Joe's weak voice called out to him, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Ben shifted closer to the settee, trying to make his face visible to the younger man.
"Joe, you need to tell me what happened," Ben said, anxiously.
It took a few minutes for Joe to work up the strength to speak and when he did, his words sent a chill right through Ben.
"T-Th-Three men," he stammered, licking his lips to moisten them. "T-Told me to get off m-my horse. W-Wanted my cash. I-I gave it to them, b-but they d-didn't believe me w-when I s-said that's a-all I h-had on me."
Joe's breaths were coming in heavy gulps and he stopped for a moment.
"Joe, maybe we should wait until-" Ben started, but his youngest son quickly cut him off.
"N-No," he argued, firmly. "H-Have to tell you."
Ben quietly nodded, patiently waiting until Joe was ready to continue. Another deep breath and he was ready to go on.
"T-They knew me b-by name," he explained, swallowing hard as he winced. "Called me Cartwright s-several t-times."
Ben leaned forward slightly.
"Did you recognize any of them, Joe?" he asked, hopefully.
Joe's eyes closed, then reopened slowly. A pained expression was on his face, betraying the answer to his father's question before he even spoke.
"O-Only one," he replied, weakly. "B-But everything's s-st-still a blur."
Ben waited patiently, anxious for him to continue.
"J-Jesse," he whispered. "J-Jesse Clark."
(Several hours later . . . .)
Adam burst through the door, Paul Martin right behind him, his medical bag clutched tightly in his hand as they both approached the settee, where Joe was sleeping restlessly.
"Pa?" Adam whispered, waking Ben from his trance-like state on the coffee table by Joe's side.
Ben looked up, seeing Adam for the first time. He glanced at Joe as Paul moved to his side, taking over his position on the table to examine his patient. Adam and Ben moved off a little ways to give them privacy to talk. Hoss, who had been sitting in the armchair, also stood and joined them.
"We caught him," were the first words out of Adam's mouth.
Ben stiffened at his oldest son's words and he gripped his arm, hopefully.
"Adam?" he questioned without ever really asking.
The oldest Cartwright son knew exactly what he was asking however and nodded.
"Jesse and his friends had a witness to their little beating," he explained. "Matt Flanigan saw everything. By the time I got into town, Roy already had a posse ready to ride out. We found him over at the Miller's old place. Him and his boys. Roy's taken them back into town."
Adam paused a moment, looking over at Joe, who had his uninjured eye halfway open and was listening to what Paul was saying to him. Adam's gaze traveled back to Ben.
"How is he, Pa?" he dared to ask.
Ben released Adam's arm and looked at Joe briefly.
"He was really tired, but he did tell me that Jesse was the one who instigated this whole thing," he replied, a frown appearing on his face. "I just don't understand how he got all the way home."
Hoss frowned too.
"Yeah, there ain't no way he coulda walked," he agreed.
Adam nodded.
"When Roy was taking them in, Jesse's boys started singing like canaries," he continued. "Apparently, Jesse didn't want anyone finding Joe in town, so he brought him out here and left him in the barn. That's also why we didn't find Cochise. She's still in town."
Ben seemed to think about that for a moment. It all made sense now. He must've been thinking for a while, for Adam when Adam placed a hand on his shoulder, Paul was already finished his examination of Joe.
"He'll be fine, Ben," the doctor announced, making all three men breathe a deep sigh of relief. "It's nothing a few days in bed won't cure."
Ben smiled and went back to Joe's side. The swelling in around Joe's eye seemed to be going down, but he still couldn't open it. The split lip had been cleaned as well as the cut over his eye, but one thing he hadn't counted on was the bandage around Joe's chest. Quizzically, he looked up at Paul.
"They beat him pretty bad in that area, Ben," his long time friend explained, quietly. "He has just a few bruised ribs, but they'll heal just fine as long as he stays in bed for a couple of days."
"Don't worry, Paul, we'll keep him there," Ben promised, turning his attention back to Joe, who was slowly losing his battle with consciousness.
His youngest son was opening his mouth, trying to speak, but the words just weren't coming out. Everyone waited patiently as Ben helped Joe drink a little water.
"P-Pa, s-sorry," Joe managed, softly.
Ben frowned, not quite sure what Joe was referring to.
"For what, Son?"
"N-Not listening t-to y-y-you."
The oldest Cartwright looked up at Hoss, Adam, and Paul, confusion clearly written across his face. Was Joe delusional?
"T-Told me t-to be c-careful," Joe whispered. "D-Didn't count on J-Jesse and his f-fr-friends."
"Don't worry about that now, Joe," Ben said, gently.
Joe's eye was drifting shut again, exhaustion taking it's toll on his worn out body.
"Pa?" he called out, softly.
"Yes, son?"
"I-I forgot the mail I-in t-town."
Ben smiled a little, still amazed that, even though he'd been beaten, Joe could still worry about something other than his own well-being. He watched with a heavy heart as Joe fell into a restless sleep. He would never understand the feelings he'd get when one of his sons were in trouble. Call it father's intuition or just bad luck. But he was grateful that it wasn't something anymore serious. As night slowly went on, Ben had Hoss move his younger brother to the guest room, where he kept a close watch on him all night - just in case.