Heat waves shimmered, making the horizon bend and ripple. Adam knew he needed to get up, to find shelter but his body would not obey his commands. The flat desert stretched for miles around, but suddenly there appeared a cactus nearby with a small sliver of shade available.
Adam's fingers dug into the sand. Desperately he began to drag his injured body forward, foot by foot, across the grainy earth.
He looked up when shade fell across him, and the cactus was no longer there. A tall fence pole with barbed wire wrapped around the top stood in its place. While Adam lay on his back trying to contemplate this, a strong wind blew and the sky was filled with clouds. A loud clap of thunder sounded, and abruptly rain began to fall. Adam opened his mouth allowing the cool life-giving water to slide down his parched throat.
Joe knew his father would not lie to him. Quickly, he walked to the water to fill the one canteen allowed by Cochise. Taking a mouthful of water for himself, he strode back to the camp, acutely aware of the hidden sentries around him.
Handing the canteen to Hoss, he carefully slid an arm under his brother's head, lifting him up while Hoss unstoppered the canteen. Johnson rushed forward but with a mighty shove from Hoss, he fell to the ground.
Joe briefly noticed his brother's skin was hot and almost dry to the touch as Hoss brought the canteen to Adam's lips. Joe gently pushed Adam's mouth open and the older Cartwright coughed when the precious liquid trickled into his mouth. Hoss pulled the canteen back, waiting for Adam to swallow. After the third offering of water, Adam's body responded on its own, allowing him to drink long and deep from the canteen.
"Adam, that's enough for now," Joe said, pushing Hoss's hand away. "You can have more in a little bit." Joe turned to Hoss. "You better have some of that too."
"Joe, I can't. Adam needs it more than I do. Besides, Pa should be back soon." Hoss put the strap around his neck, effectively keeping the water away from Johnson.
Now all they could do was wait and hope.
The rest of the night passed quietly. Hoss, keeping the water away from Johnson, refused to take even a mouthful for himself. At regular intervals, he and Joe helped Adam to drink. Even though Adam was unconscious, his body provided for itself what was needed and by sunrise, the canteen was nearly empty.
Daylight brought relief to the camp. A thunder of hooves was heard, and moments later, an army Doctor scrambled over the rocks.
"I' m Doctor Fletcher. We need to get water boiled immediately and I'll need some assistance," he said. Hoss jumped up to fill the canteens.
After Hoss returned with the water, they set about helping the doctor. "That bullet needs to come out. Gentlemen, I'll need you to hold him still for me to remove it, I'll handle everything else." Both Cartwrights nodded grimly, Hoss positioning himself on Adam's right, Joe settling by Adam's head. Tools ready, the doctor carefully removed the makeshift bandages, revealing the ugly red, swollen hole in Adam's side. Hoss gulped and Joe winced, but neither moved as the medical man reached for a scalpel. It took both of them to hold Adam still as the doctor probed for the bullet. Joe murmured quiet words of comfort as the doctor worked, absently rubbing Adam's shoulder.
Try as he might, Adam could not pull himself out from under the collapsed wood. The strong wind had toppled the fence pole on top of him, and the barbed wire dug unmercifully into his wounded side. Taking a short breath, Adam again tried to manuever himself free, but his arms would not move. White hot agony suddenly lanced through his left side, leaving him gasping shallowly.
Tears threatened to spill down Hoss's face with Adam's quiet whimper when the bullet was finally removed, and Joe heaved an audible sigh of relief. Adam quieted considerably as Fletcher began cleansing and stitching up the wound.
At that moment, Colonel Wilcox shouted for Johnson to give himself up. Refusing to admit defeat, Johnson turned the rifle towards the Cartwrights. Hoss immediately jumped up and slowly advanced towards the man, Joe right behind, nervously hoping his older brother wouldn't be shot as well. Hoss simply took the captain's gun then physcially marched him out to the waiting Colonel, while Joe turned back to help Doctor Fletcher.
Unable to open his eyes, Adam tried to assess where he was. No longer was his body on fire, and the pain had slightly subsided to a dull throb. Hands were supporting him, a strange voice sounded nearby, then Joe's voice spoke near his ear.
Crouching next to his oldest brother, Joe had slid an arm under Adam's shoulders, holding him steady while the doctor wrapped clean bandages around Adam's torso. He looked at Adam's face and saw his eyes trying to open.
"Adam? Adam, can you hear me?" Joe asked quietly.
A few moments later, Adam slowly opened his eyes. "Joe?" he said in a breathy whisper.
Joe smiled in relief. "Adam, you're all right. Doctor Fletcher took the bullet out. We're going to get you home."
Adam's brow furrowed slightly as he slowly processed the information Joe had given him. "Water?" he rasped.
Immediately a canteen was at his lips and he drank thirstily, then relaxed back into Joe's arms. Joe gently laid Adam back down. "Get some rest, Adam," Joe said, watching Adam's eyes close. He was relieved to see his brother's face smooth out and for the first time since he was shot, Adam looked almost comfortable.
Hoss returned shortly, then just as Fletcher finished tying off the bandage, Ben and Wilcox approached, followed closely by Cochise.
"Well, Doctor, how is he?" the Colonel asked as Ben crouched next to Adam.
"I can pull him through sir," Doctor Fletcher replied, smiling.
"Good. You'll stay with him as long as is necessary." Ben quickly got to his feet and thanked the army man and bid Cochise farewell. After returning their horses, Cochise left, and Ben quickly sent his youngest to return with a buckboard that would take Adam home.
Some time had passed, although exactly how much, Adam couldn't be sure. Things were a blur. Incessant jostling coinciding with the jingle of harnesses, the ache in his side deepening with each bump of the road. Someone's muffled voice, that had to be Hoss if the strong arms carrying him were anything to go by. The reassuring comfort of Adam's own bed.
Night must have happened at some point, the glow of the lamp lending limited visibility to the room. Then he had found himself wandering in the desert again, hot, dusty, dry, his throat parched and almost unable to swallow.