THREE

oooooooooo

He was powerful hungry.

Hoss Cartwright winced as his stomach growled again and then sat up and looked to the side. His little brother was lyin' next to him, sound asleep. Well, 'burrowed in' might be a better way to put it. Joe's nose was shoved into the feather pillow and his little rump was sticking up in the air half in and half out of the covers. As he watched, his brother shifted and rolled to the side and drew his legs up and then he kicked out.

Sleepin' with little Joe was like sleepin' in a grizzly's cave.

Reaching over, Hoss untangled the covers and pulled them up around his brother's shoulders. Then he slipped from the bed just as his tummy let out another mighty howl. He glanced at Little Joe again, but his brother didn't stir. He was lyin' all curled up with his thumb in his mouth. Before Mama'd died, Pa'd tried to break him of doin' that. He'd heard him tell Little Joe that if he wanted to be all growed up like him and Adam, then he had to cut it out.

After Mama died, well, Pa didn't say nothin' no more.

When he reached the door to his room, Hoss looked back again. Little Joe still hadn't moved, so that meant he was right and good asleep. It would only take him a few minutes to go down to the kitchen and grab a piece of chocolate cake and a glass of milk and beat it back up to his room. Adam had left after the noon meal and Mrs. Guthrie had said it was too soon at supper for another piece. They'd just have to wait for the next day.

The way he figured it, it was after midnight now so it was the next day.

Quietly closing the door behind him, the ten-year-old headed out into the hall. He didn't put his slippers on 'cause Mrs. Guthrie was sleepin' in the guest room downstairs. Hoss knew he'd have to be real quiet so as not to wake her and he figured bare feet was best. He remembered he'd told Pa once that it seemed like Mama had extra ears or somethin'. Pa had told him God made women like that 'cause he made little boys like him.

Them had been good days.

Fearful one of the boards on the stairs would squeak, Hoss caught hold of the railing and made his way down slowly. He was lookin' at his feet instead of lookin' up and had made it all the way to the bottom before he realized somethin' was wrong.

Somethin' was very wrong.

Mrs. Guthrie was standin' by the dining room table. There was a tall blond man behind her and he had his hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide and wild and she was shakin' her head and makin' sounds like she was tryin' to talk. A second later she got real quiet as the man holdin' her pulled a pistol out of his holster and pointed it, not at her, but at him.

The sound of a chair scrapin' on the floor drew Hoss' attention to the other side of the great room to where Pa had his office. Everything that had been on his pa's desk was on the floor in front of it, and there was a big man with black hair and a thick mustache standin' behind the desk shoutin' words that would have earned him a trip to the woodshed if Pa'd been home. The man turned 'round and gave the safe on the wall a kick and then moved into the room until he stood in front of him.

"I thought you said Cartwright's brats were asleep!" the bad man yelled as he turned and looked at Mrs. Guthrie. She tried to answer, but she couldn't 'cause the other bad man had his hand over her mouth.

Hoss swallowed hard. "I...I was hungry," he said.

The dark-haired man focused his intense stare on him. He'd heard his pa talk about a man's eyes bein' cold.

He'd never understood what Pa meant 'til now.

The man nodded up the stairs. "Is your brother up there?"

"Little Joe's...asleep," he said, his voice trembling. It got stronger when he added, "You just leave him out of this."

The bad man snorted as he looked him up and down. "You want me to leave the kid alone? Then don't try anything." His hand dropped to the gun he wore slung low on his hip. "I'm telling you, boy. You make me mad, I'll take it out of his hide not yours."

"Little Joe's only five!" he protested.

"Jasper, he's right. We got no call to hurt no kids," the blond man said.

"You shut up, Dawson." Before Hoss knew it, Jasper had reached out and caught hold of his nightshirt. He drew him in so close he could smell the liquor on his breath. "What're you , kid, twelve? Thirteen?"

He was big. Cause of that everybody always thought he was older than he looked. Hoss' eyes strayed to the office. He knew their rescue was in the upper right hand drawer of his pa's desk. He had to get to it. Hoss eyed the bad man again. If Jasper knew he was only ten, maybe he wouldn't watch him so close and he'd be free to move.

"Everyone thinks that, I ain't that old. I'll be eleven in about a month."

Jasper looked him up and down. Then he turned on Mrs. Guthrie. "Is he telling the truth?" As she nodded, he looked back. "Lord, boy! Your mama must have been big enough to shade an elephant!"

It was a good thing Hoss could hear Adam talkin' in his ear even though older brother wasn't there. Keep calm, he was sayin'. Don't let him get to you. He's not worth it. Hoss drew a calming breath and let it out slowly, remembering the last thing Adam had said to him before walking out the door. Remember what I told you, Hoss. Nothing in the house is worth your life or anyone else's. If it's only money or things they want, let them have them. But if you think Little Joe or Mrs. Guthrie are in danger, there's always the gun in the desk drawer.

"What is it you want, Mister?" he asked.

"The combination to that safe for one thing," Jasper snarled.

Hoss shook his head. "That I ain't got. Adam's the only one knows that and he ain't here."

"He's probably tellin' the truth, Jasper," Dawson said. "He's just a kid."

"Well, of course, he's tellin' the truth. Ain't no older brother stupid enough to trust something that important to a snot-nosed kid. We may just have to forget about the payroll." He looked around the room. "There's plenty of silver and other things. Ain't as good as cash, but maybe they'll have to do." Jasper pulled his gun and waved toward the settee. "Now you just go over there and sit yourself down, sonny, and stay put if you want me to leave that baby brother of yours alone."

Hoss did as he was told.

When he was satisfied that he had, Jasper turned to his brother and said, "Dawson, take the woman into the kitchen and tie her to a chair. If you find anything to eat, bring it back with you."

Dawson started to move and then paused. "Which do you want me to do first?"

Hoss watched as Jasper roll his eyes. "Little brother, if you ain't as useless as a milk bucket under a bull. Tie her up, then bring the food!"

"You ain't gotta yell."

"Yeah, I do. Otherwise the words aren't gonna make it through that thick skull of yours."

Hoss frowned as he listened to the two bad men argue. They were brothers, but Jasper acted like he hated Dawson, who was the younger of the pair. Dawson couldn't do anythin' right so far as he was concerned and every time he got somethin' wrong, it just seemed to make Jasper angrier. He couldn't imagine Adam talkin' to him like that, or him doin' that with Little Joe.

All of a sudden he realized Jasper was standin' right next to him. Hoss tensed as he looked up.

"All right, boy, you're gonna take me upstairs and we're gonna see what there is to see."

A plan had been forming in his mind as he watched the brothers fight. It wasn't all the way worked out yet, but he had high hopes.

"You don't want to go up there," he said.

"How come? The five year old bigger than you?"

"No, but he's real annoyin'." God forgive me, Hoss thought, for lyin'. "You don't wanna wake Little Joe up. He's a cry baby."

Jasper stared at him and then burst out laughin'. "You don't sound like you like him much."

Hoss shrugged. "I ain't got much choice. I gotta like him. He's my brother."

The bad man snorted as he looked in the direction his brother had gone. "Hell, all that means is you gotta live with him. It doesn't mean you have to like him."

"You don't like Dawson much. Do you?"

Jasper pivoted to look at him. There was somethin' in his eyes. Somethin' scary. "I don't like him at all, kid. But he's got his uses."

"My name's Hoss, not 'kid'."

"Hoss?" he snorted. "What the hell kind of name is that?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. Guess it means I'm kind of stupid. Leastwise that's what my older brother thinks."

The bad man stared at him again, a long moment. "I'll make a deal with you, kid...Hoss. We'll go upstairs real quiet-like. I just want to take a look in your Pa's room. I don't expect you boys have much worth stealin'."

"No, sir. Our pa's right stingy. Makes us work for wages."

Jasper shook his head. "Now, why doesn't that surprise me? So you want to get back at him, huh?"

Hoss crossed his fingers behind his back and nodded. "Sure do."

"You know, Hoss, I think you and me are gonna get along just fine." Jasper put a hand on his shoulder and pressed him toward the stair. "Lead on."

oooooooooo

Little Joe Cartwright sat straight up in bed and opened his eyes. He blinked and looked around, surprised for a moment that he was not sleeping between his mama and his papa. Whenever he had a bad dream, he would run right out of his room and into theirs and dive in-between them. Pa would sigh and turn over, but mama would open her eyes and look at him and whisper, 'tout à fait, mon petit', and then put a finger to her lips as she lifted up her covers and let him snuggle up against her. When Pa woke up in the morning he pretended to be mad. He'd reach down under the covers and grab him and shake him and then toss him on the bed so he bounced and mama would laugh and laugh.

Someone was laughing.

It wasn't Mama.

Mama was...dead.

Joe rubbed his eyes and sniffed. He wasn't gonna cry. Big men didn't cry. At least, Adam didn't cry and he was a big man. Hoss did sometimes, but he was little too and that didn't count. Pa'd cried after mama died, but then his tears had all dried up and he just got mad.

Maybe that's what big men did when they were sad.

Get mad.

Little Joe sighed. He didn't like bein' mad, but if that's what he had to be to be a man, then that's what he'd do.

Right now he was mad at Hoss. He'd left him alone in the bed.

Hoss' bed was tall and big. Joe looked over the side and then – even though he was mad – grinned. He'd found the best way for getting out of Hoss' bed was to take hold of the covers and flip over and land on the floor.

Well, maybe not the best, but the funnest.

After a well-executed somersault that would have been the envy of any circus performer, the little boy started across the room. He looked at his slippers. He was supposed to wear slippers. But he was mad, so he wasn't gonna do anything anyone told him to do.

Yeah, he was mad. He had to remember that.

Little Joe stomped as he headed for the door. It wasn't very much fun 'cause bare feet didn't make much noise.

It would have been better in his slippers.

Still thinking that over, Joe reached the door and jumped up and grabbed the latch and brought it down and then swung it open – just in time to see Hoss and some big man he didn't know heading down the staircase. Frowning, Joe followed them but stopped at the top of the stairs. The big man had a hand on Hoss' shoulder and he was carrying something. Something square made of wood with a fancy gold clasp on the side of it.

Something that belonged to his dead mama...

"YOU PUT THAT BACK!"

oooooooooo

Hoss spun just in time to see Little Joe, his nostrils flaring and his brow near meetin' his nose, launch himself down the steps toward Jasper's legs. The bad man was startled, but he managed to side-step and Joe went tumblin' all the way down 'til he hit the great room floor with a mighty 'thud!'. For a second he didn't move. Then Joe sat up, looked around to see who was lookin', and let out the loudest, longest Gosh-awful wail you ever heard.

Jasper was taking the steps two at a time, his belt in his hand.

Hoss beat him to the bottom. "I told you he was a cry baby," he said quickly. "You hit him and he'll just cry louder."

The bad man was breathin' hard. "Maybe I'll just have to shut him up – permanently – then."

The ten-year-old swallowed hard. He'd been playin' up to Jasper, tryin' to make him think he didn't like his baby brother no more than Jasper liked his. He'd told the bad man how Little Joe always got his way and how Pa favored him, lettin' him get by with everythin'. He thought – maybe – if he could get Jasper to trust him, he could talk him into lettin' him go into the office with him. When they got upstairs, he'd remembered somethin'. There was a little slip of paper inside Mama's jewelry box, under the velvet lining, with numbers on it. It was the combination to the safe in the upstairs closet where Pa kept the diamonds Mama wore at her wedding. Pa said they were too 'temptin' to be left in the jewelry box and that he wanted to be sure they were safe so Little Joe's bride could wear them one day.

Joe's 'bride'. That sure did sound funny.

"I can get him to be quiet," Hoss said as he knelt before his brother, moving between Jasper and Joe before the bad man could hit him with his belt. Little Joe looked so pitiful he just wanted to pick him up and squeeze him, but if he did, all his hard work would be for nothin' and he'd never get into that office.

"Little Joe. Little Joe, you look at me!"

Joe looked up at his stern tone.

"If you don't want to go to the woodshed, you better stop that whinin'."

His baby brother blinked. For a moment Joe looked mighty confused, then he stuck his chin out and yelled, "You can't whup me! You ain't Pa!"

"I'm the oldest here. That means I get to be Pa and I can!" he countered sharply, feelin' about two inches high.

Joe was thinkin' that one through. "Adam's older," he said at last.

"Yeah, but Adam ain't here. I am."

"Shut him up now, kid," Jasper growled as he hit the belt against his palm. "Or I will."

It wasn't an idle threat.

Fortunately, Jasper's kid brother chose that moment to reappear. He was carrying a tray with what was left of the chocolate cake on it. Hoss' stomach growled at the sight.

"Hey! He wasn't here before," Dawson said.

Jasper muttered an oath and then stepped over Little Joe, headed for his brother. Grabbing him by the collar he dragged him toward the kitchen wing. "You get back in there you good-for-nothing... "

As the two men disappeared, Hoss leaned in close to Joe and said, "Little Joe, don't you get upset. I'm playin' a game with Jasper. I'm pretendin' I'm just like him."

Joe sniffed. "He's not nice."

"No, he ain't. But Joe, I gotta play this game. You gotta trust me. I'm sorry if I say somethin' to hurt you, but – "

"Hey! Kid! What're you whispering about?"

Hoss held his brother's gaze for a moment and then said, "I was just tellin' Little Joe he'd better shut up or I'd make him."

Jasper halted by the table behind the settee. He leaned against it and crossed his arms. "That I'd like to see."

Little Joe was lookin' at him with those big green eyes of his, with all the trust in the world shinin'' way deep down inside them. Hoss closed his eyes, drew a deep breath – and then he slapped his baby brother.

Hard.

Right on the face.

The sound reverberated through the room.

Hoss winced, waiting for Little Joe to cry. Instead, there was nothin'.

Just...nothin'.

"Hey, that was good, Hoss," Jasper said as he crossed to where he had put Mama's jewelry box down and opened it up. "I guess you ain't pretendin'. You really do hate him."

He was lookin' right at Joe. His baby brother was starin' up at him.

"Yeah," he said, swallowin' over his misery. "I hate him."

"Hey, kid! Look here!"

Jasper had found the paper with the code. Just like he wanted him too. Maybe now he could save them all.

Hoss turned back to his brother. Little Joe was still starin' at him, lookin' like he'd lost his best friend.

'Cause he probably thought he had.

Hoss reached out toward him. "Little Joe, I..."

His brother drew back, terrified.

Jasper's hand came down on his shoulder. "Forget him. Come on, kid. Let's see what your old man has in his safe."

He had no choice.

Leaving Little Joe sitting on the floor, Hoss followed the outlaw into his father's office. As Jasper knelt by the safe, he went to stand by the right hand drawer – the one with the gun in it. Adam said he would leave it loaded and the drawer unlocked. All he had to do was catch a second – one second when he could take it out and point the pistol toward Jasper and...

And...

Do whatever he had to do.

Hoss glanced over his shoulder. Dawson had come back in and was standing by the table eatin' a piece of chocolate cake. He didn't really think he had to worry about him. If Jasper went down, he was pretty sure Dawson would run. He felt sorry for the way Jasper treated his brother, but part of what the bad man said was true. Dawson wasn't very smart.

Hoss held his breath as he heard the tumblers click. Pretty soon Jasper would figure out he had the wrong combination and he'd be mad as a peeled rattler. Hoss edged his hand toward the drawer. He was afraid it was going to make a noise when he opened it, so he knew he'd have to open it fast. Jasper was mutterin' under his breath. He was tryin' the combination a second time. Hoss kept one eye on him and the other on the drawer as it inched open – one, two, three inches. Almost enough to work his fingers in and take hold of the gun. Almost –

Jasper stood up.

Hoss moved so he was in front of the opened drawer. "Don't it work?" he asked.

"No!" Jasper ripped the paper in half and threw it to the floor. "There must have been another slip of paper in there," he said as he rounded the desk. "I'm gonna make it hotter than the hubs of Hell for Ben Cartwright if there ain't!"

Hoss watched him go and then looked down at the drawer. Trembling, he pulled it open. His hand slid in and his fingers closed around the gun's handle. "Yeah, it's gonna be a scorcher all right, but not for Pa," he said as pulled the pistol out of the drawer and pointed it.

Straight at Little Joe.