It was some time before his eyes cleared enough to see the passing scenery clearly. How many journeys had he made in his life? Too many to be able to recall more than incidental details of most of them. For a long time, Ben had searched fruitlessly for some meaning and purpose in life, always travelling on in the hope that it would appear over the next mountain, or in the next valley or the next town. But after a while, he had given up hope and just kept on travelling because he really didn't know what else to do. Some people thought that his lifestyle was unfair to Adam, who was only a small child, but in truth Adam had no concept of a life in one place and placidly accepted the constant onward journey as normality.

Inger had changed that. But then Inger changed everything. Ben smiled as he thought of how surprised his dear, kind, unassuming Inger would be to know that. Her strength and her faith in him knew no bounds and at last Ben was able to see that every journey should have a purpose and a final destination. And so they had travelled on together, united in a new purpose.

That resolve had nearly perished along with Inger in an Indian attack near Ash Hollow, Nebraska. She had never completed the Oregon Trail, but lay buried in an unmarked grave that was tended by no one. But her spirit had stayed with her small family, not least in the presence of her most precious gift, Hoss. These had been dark days indeed, but even in his bleakest moments of despair, Ben knew that he owed it to Inger to continue onwards and strive to create a home for his two sons.

"Do you look down at your son, dear Inger?" Ben wondered. "Do you see the love and tolerance that is your heritage? Or his strong, steadfast heart? Do you gasp, along with me, at his infinite capacity for love?"

That particular journey along the Oregon Trail had finally ended for Ben and his sons in Nevada, at what had grown into the mighty, prosperous Ponderosa. How ironic it was, Ben thought, that this latest journey was taking him away from everything that he held precious. He recalled all the nights on board ship when he would gaze upward at the North Star and wonder at its permanency and stability. For so many years, the Ponderosa had been his personal Pole Star, the fixed point in his life. To leave it now seemed tantamount to a betrayal.

The middle-aged woman sitting opposite him saw the troubled expression on the handsome, silver-haired man's face. She leant slightly forward towards him and Ben stirred as her pleasant features came into his line of sight.

"Sometimes, it is better to travel hopefully than to arrive," she confided. The well-worn words were given a new meaning by the heartfelt tones and her obvious sincerity and Ben noticed that she was knotting her fingers together anxiously. Sensing that at least one of his fellow passengers had troubles of her own, and anxious to push his own disturbing thoughts to the back of his mind, Ben gave her an understanding smile that invited her to continue. Soon, the lady was sharing her worries about her daughter, who was expecting her first baby in two weeks time. This topic of conversation quickly involved the other inhabitants of the cramped coach and the ensuing assurances, recollections and well-meaning pieces of advice kept them all occupied until they finally reached Sacramento.


By mutual, if unspoken agreement, the three Cartwright brothers headed straight for home, forgoing their normal routine of a refreshing beer at a convivial saloon. Somehow, it did not seem right to be celebrating.

Joe set a steady pace for the Ponderosa. "I'd like to have that string of horses broken for the Army ahead of time and then get a head start on assessing new breeding stock before Pa comes home," he declared. "Best way I can think of to say 'Welcome Home' that I can think of."

Adam looked concerned. "That's an awful lot of work, Joe. You know that Hoss is committed to moving the south herd up to the fresh pastures and I'll be overseeing the timber-cutting most of the time. We've got a big contract for mine props to fill and…"

"Yeah, but we need to get all those jobs done," Hoss interjected, worry colouring his words. "You and I are spoken for, Adam, but maybe we could get an extension from the Army, you think? A couple of weeks would give us some breathing space."

"Don't you reckon I can do it?" Joe asked in a small voice. He thought this would be the ideal opportunity to demonstrate that he was a valuable part of life on the Ponderosa, but right from the start his brothers were sapping his confidence. Joe wondered if there would ever come a time when he would be regarded as an equal, able to pull his weight, someone whose views were listened to and respected. It was beginning to depress him, although he steadfastly refused to voice his concerns. That was the fate of being the youngest, he thought. People just refused to let you grow up.

"It's not that," Hoss said quickly. "We all know you're the best rider on the Ponderosa and you can get the orneriest horse to behave like a lady's saddle horse for you. Aint no one can gentle a horse like you. Why, even Sport stops his skittering about when you ride him!"

Adam gave a huffy snort of disbelief, but there was a broad smile on his face. It quickly disappeared when Sport promptly started to dance nervously and threw his head around. After a brief battle of wills, Adam brought the horse under control. "We all know horse-breaking is bone-jarring work that saps the strength out of a man, Joe. Won't you allow us the luxury of being concerned about you?"

Joe nodded reluctantly, wondering what necessary but undoubtedly safe and boring task he would be assigned. It appeared that he was doomed to forever remain the baby of the family, protected, yet not respected. Adam's next words came as a complete surprise.

"But, having said that, you're right. So, go ahead with your plan – but for heaven's sake, don't be so stubborn headed that you won't ask for help if you need it!"

"I'll be fine," Joe said, with all the boundless confidence and optimism of youth. His face was wreathed with smiles as he urged Cochise into a canter and spurted homewards.

"Kid rides like an angel, don't he?" Hoss said admiringly.

In his mind's eye, Adam could see the glee and hint of devilment that frequently resided in Joe's eyes. "A fallen angel!" he qualified and kicked Sport into reluctant pursuit, wondering if he would ever be able to shake the deep-seated sense of responsibility he felt towards Joe.

Hoss drew up alongside him. "Good thing he's got you an' me as guardian angels looking' out for him then!" he called out cheerfully.

Favouring him with a nod, Adam personally doubted if the entire heavenly host could keep Joe out of trouble. "I hope this is a short trip, Pa," he thought, keeping the reins tight "Or you'll come home to discover I've aged ten years!"


Joe made a determined effort to rise as early as possible each morning, so that he could complete his routine chores before breakfast, thus giving him a clear, uninterrupted space to work with the green horses until he took a brief break for lunch. Barn chores were fine and even chopping enough wood to keep the demanding Hop Sing satisfied was something that Joe could endure, but he particularly abhorred his daily task of collecting eggs from the chicken coop. He had never quite been able to get over his dislike and fear of the birds, imagining a certain malevolence in every beady glare. Having been the recipient of several painful pecks, Joe knew from personal experience just how sharp their beaks were and he also had a healthy respect of their claws. He tended to advance towards the chickens, brandishing the egg basket in front of him like a shield, using it to shoo the birds out of his way.

Coming out of the barn, Adam stopped to enjoy the daily spectacle of Joe's battle with the chickens. He grinned as he saw one bird sneak around behind his brother and leant against the wall to fully enjoy the inevitable outcome. Sure enough, as Joe bent over to retrieve an egg the chicken lunged forward, landing a firm peck on Joe's butt. Shooting upwards, Joe let out an outraged squawk of pain, simultaneously dropping the basket, scattering the eggs and clutching his bruised backside. Adam tried very hard to repress his emotions, but every man has his limits. After a valiant but ultimately fruitless struggle, he was finally forced to let his laughter erupt.

Escaping from the coop, Joe glared vehemently at him. "I suppose you think that was funny?" he demanded, rubbing his butt and wondering just how much damage a chicken could inflict. Was it possible that the bird had actually pecked out a chunk of his butt? Joe gave an anguished little hop at this thought, which only increased Adam's whoops of glee. Finally, Joe realised he had one weapon at his disposal. "I might not be able to sit on a horse today," he warned darkly. "Maybe you should take over breaking those horses for me?"

Abruptly brought back to his senses, Adam sobered up rapidly. There was no way he could face even a few hours on those broncs. That was a young man's game. "Joe, I'm sorry," he wheezed. "Want me to check it out for you?"

"I don't think so," Joe said, with as much dignity as he could muster. He started to walk back to the house, limping slightly with each step in an attempt to garner some sympathy.

"It could have been worse," Adam advised wickedly. "After all, that devil chicken could have pecked you right on the…"

Whirling around, Joe just managed not to whimper outloud. "Don't you dare say that!" he demanded. "In fact, don't even think about it! I forbid you! I absolutely forbid you!" Gathering the tattered shreds of his dignity, Joe walked away as fast as he could, but with a decided list to one side and with one hand held protectively over his butt. Adam leaned back against the barn wall and crowed with laughter until he could scarcely breathe.

When they looked back on things, this was the one light-hearted interlude the brothers could remember from that time. For the main part, their days consisted of early starts and late finishes, packed in-between with hard work. In the evenings, they would meet at dinner and make desultory attempts at conversation.

"Sure do miss Pa around here," Hoss remarked that evening. "Seems like nothing is quite right."

Joe, who was sitting perched on his undamaged buttock, nodded apathetically, pushing his food around the plate without any real attempt at eating.

Adam felt a little guilty, for his job mainly consisted of supervisory duties and did not involve the physically exhausting work that his brother's jobs did. Their tiredness was evident to see – Hoss was struggling to stay awake for long enough to finish his portion of beef stew, far less demolish a second or even third helping, while Joe had dark circles under his eyes and had a fine-drawn air about him. Their fatigue seemed to permeate the air.

"I could do your chores tomorrow morning," he offered. "Let you both have an extra half hour in bed."

Joe shook his head. "No way. That's not fair on you. We're in this together. Like that book you love so much says: One for all and all for one."

There were times when Adam regretted introducing his brother to the delights of literature and this was definitely one of them. He watched silently as Joe slowly rose to his feet, refusing a cup of coffee.

"Think I'll turn in early. I reckon one more day should do it and see the last of those horses broken for the Army. And then I'm going to have the longest, hottest bath and hit Virginia City with a vengeance!"

Hop Sing touched him gently on the arm. "Plenty hot water," he advised. "You soak now and sleep good," he urged, his concern palpable.

Joe heard the worried note in his voice. "I'd love to, Hop Sing but the truth is I'm so tired and so sore right now that I doubt I'd be able to get out the tub," he confessed, longing for the warmth and comfort of the water on his bruised and aching body.

"Don't you worry about that none," Hoss advised. "Iffen you should get stuck, I'll get you out no problem. You're still just a skinny little thing, after all!"

Pushed into a corner, Joe agreed. As he stripped off his clothes in the wash-room, he wondered how he would have reacted if Adam had made the same offer, even used the same words. "I probably would have bitten his head off!" he concluded, stepping gingerly into the steaming water. "Wonder why we seem to rub each other up the wrong way, no matter what?" He surveyed the myriad of purple bruises on his concave stomach with a detached air, eased his aching shoulders under the warm water and closed his eyes with a soft grunt of satisfaction. Some things were just too complicated to ponder over right now, Joe decided and surrendered himself to the soothing heat.

Back in the living room of the Ponderosa, Adam was engaged in a remarkably similar conversation with Hoss.

"Don't take it too personal," Hoss advised. "Seems to me that you and Joe are two sides of the same coin – similar, part of the same whole, yet each of you striving to prove you are different. Let go of that and maybe you can appreciate the man he is, not the boy you still see him as."

"I wish I could," Adam said miserably. "But no matter how competent Joe is, or how old he is, he'll always be my baby brother. I've got to look out for him."

Hoss regarded him quizzically. "I don't see you having that problem with me," he remarked. "You let me stand on my own feet years ago. I ain't smart like you an' Joe, we all know that, but I can look after myself. And so can Joe, if you let him. That doesn't mean you stop caring about him or trying to help him but you've gotta let him be his own man, on his own terms, not yours."

Seeing that Adam still looked dubious, Hoss continued. "'Member when he was just a baby an' learnin' to walk? All those times he fell over and thumped onto his butt and then sat there and howled?" Adam nodded, grinning despite himself at the memories. "But Mama didn't stop him or hold him back, did she? Nope, she let him go on until he got the hang of it."

"And a few days later, he went trotting across the floor at high speed, tripped over and cracked his head open on the coffee table! There was blood everywhere and he cried loud enough to bring Pa rushing over from the barn," Adam reminisced. The memory was so fresh in his mind, as if it had only happened a few days beforehand, not years ago.

"My point exactly. Sometimes, you've gotta stand back and let Joe go off on his own, even if your urge is to hold on and protect him. Tricky thing is, you've also gotta be there when he needs you. Just like Pa is for us, even now."

A wry smile crossed Adam's face. "It was Marie, as I remember that particular incident. And somehow, I don't think Joe would appreciate being plonked on my knee for a consoling kiss and a cuddle!" .He bent down and studied the table carefully. "I'm sure there's still a dent in there somewhere," he remarked absently, before straightening up and looking at his brother as if really seeing him for the first time. "Thanks for the advice, Hoss. You've helped me see things in a new way."

Hoss shrugged nonchalantly, but was unable to hide his evident pride and satisfaction at the praise. He looked over at the grandfather clock. "You gonna see if Joe's stuck in that tub? He's been in there for ages."

"I'll be sure to holler if I need your help," Adam assured him and left the room with a decided bounce in his step.

A few wisps of steam escaped from under the washroom door as Adam knocked briefly and then entered.

"I thought you might need this," he said, holding out Joe's nightshirt. From the depths of the tub, Joe blinked blearily up at him, his hair hanging in limp tendrils around his face and looking impossibly young.

"Thanks," he murmured sleepily and started to get out of the water, when he suddenly stumbled and would have fallen if Adam had not grabbed him under the elbow and steadied him.

"You okay, Joe?" The concern was clear in Adam's voice and echoed by the worried expression on his face.

"Just a bit dizzy. Must have got up too quickly," Joe said, allowing himself to be guided over to a chair. He felt so very tired and too weary to do any thing else. He didn't protest when Adam draped a towel around him, or even when he roughly dried his hair and he submitted to being bundled into his nightshirt and shepherded upstairs and into bed without a murmur.

"Night, Joe, sleep tight" Adam said softly, standing at the doorway and watching as Joe snuggled into his pillows with evident contentment.

"Night, Pa," Joe replied automatically, almost asleep already. Adam felt a strong flood of love, pride and fear wash over him as he remained standing in the doorway, fondly watching his brother rest. It was several minutes before he could bring himself to turn around and shut the door behind him, leaving Joe alone.