Chapter Six
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"Little Joe wake up. Boy need to eat."
Joe shifted, winced, and dared to shake his head. "Not hungry."
"Boy eat anyhow."
Joe opened one eye and looked. Yep, it was Hop Sing.
"When did you get here?" he asked.
"Boy not remember. Hop Sing take care of Little Joe all night long."
He sniffed. Wrinkling his nose, he said, "I could of told by the smell. What'd you put on my leg?"
"Chinese secret."
He was more than used to Hop Sing's 'secret' potions. There wasn't one of them that didn't set your hair on end and smell like wet dog.
A hand on his forehead stopped his protest. "Boy not complain. Boy better. Fever down."
Joe sighed. "Hop Sing, it's been a long time since I've been a boy."
The Chinese man smiled. "Always boy to Hop Sing. Always Little Joe."
He shifted again and was grateful to do it. It hurt, but it didn't feel like his leg wasn't part of him anymore. "Can you help me sit up?" he asked.
"If boy eat soup."
Joe rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'll eat your soup," he groused. "Just help me up." Once he was propped against the pillows, he asked, "Where's Pa?"
"He look for great big boy," the Chinese man said as he reached for the tray next to him.
"Rick? Where'd he go?"
"Hop Sing tell big boy what Little Joe say when fever high. He hear and run."
The sick man resisted a sigh. Hop Sing was tucking a napkin under his chin. "What'd I say?" he asked as the Chinese man settled the tray on his lap.
"Lily."
Joe blinked. "Lily? Just that?" He thought a moment. "Lily. I think that was the name of the woman Hoss tried to save."
Hop Sing nodded. "Lily boy's mother."
"What?" He jerked so hard he spilled some of the soup on the tray. "Are you sure? How do you know?"
"Hop Sing see it in boy's eyes," the man from China said softly.
Joe thought about it, and the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. They were near where the landslide happened. Rick said his ma had gone to town and not come back. He'd told him she was hard of hearing and the woman he'd shouted at had been deaf. There was another thing he remembered. It was why he kept saying her name. Just before Hoss waded back in, his brother had called out a name.
'Lily'.
Like he knew her.
Hop Sing held a spoonful of broth out. He pushed it aside.
No. It couldn't be.
Not Hoss.
Maybe him, but not Hoss.
Joe looked at the door. He could see Rick standing there that first night and remembered how much he had reminded him of his brother.
"You don't think," Joe said, his voice hushed with awe.
Hop Sing nodded as he offered the spoonful of broth again.
"Hop Sing not think. He know."
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Ben's head was reeling. None of it made any sense.
If Hoss had...fathered a child...nothing in the world would have stopped his son from claiming the boy, no matter what the societal consequences. And yet, looking at Rick now, it was impossible not to see the resemblance. Oh, he'd noted it before, but in passing.
Now, there was no question.
Clearing his throat, he asked Rick, who was leaning against the fence, looking off into the distance, "Do you know anything about your father?"
The boy glanced at him as if wondering why he cared. Then he shrugged. "Ma told me he was a good man, but he couldn't stay. Said he had 'other obligations'." Rick paused. "I think she was lyin'."
"Why is that?"
He laughed. "Ma was...mighty proud. She didn't take nothin' from no one. Said she'd had to fight all her life to have somethin' to call her own and she wasn't about to take charity." The boy turned around so he was facing him. "She wasn't a drinker, but every once in a while Ma'd break out the medicine bottle and take a shot or two. She told me she'd sent him away."
"Sent him away?" he echoed. "Why?"
"Ma didn't say, but I think him and her – Pa and my ma – gettin' together was 'cause they was both lonely. Not 'cause they loved each other."
He was trying hard to piece it together. It still didn't sound like his son, and yet he found it hard – especially in light of that letter – to believe Rick was not talking about Hoss. Ben thought about it. Rick was somewhere in his early teens. That placed his birth about the end of the fifties, or maybe the early sixties. When had Hoss been so distraught that this might have happened?
Then he had it. Emily Pennington. The young woman had left because she knew she was dying and broken his son's heart. After that, Hoss had gone away for a time. He'd said he needed time to himself. Could he have come across Lily and the pair of them – two lonely souls – sought a moment of consolation in each other's arms?
"You okay Mister...Ben?" Rick asked.
The rancher placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. For a moment, he was at a loss for words. When he found his voice, he said, "Son, those letters you have in your mother's Bible. Do you know who they are for?"
"I already told Joe. I can't read that fancy writing."
"Why haven't you found someone to read them to you?"
The boy shrugged. "I'm...afraid, I guess."
"Of what you'll learn?"
He nodded. "That and, well, readin' them... I guess, it's like I'm givin' up on Ma. Like I'm admittin' she ain't ever comin' home."
"Do you think she is?"
Rick pale blue eyes, so like his late son's, met his.
"No."
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"Go ahead and do it, Pa," Joe said between gritted teeth.
His father had his hands on his leg. Rick's were on his shoulders.
"It's going to hurt, son. I'm sorry," Pa said.
He knew it had been too long. He wasn't sure how long it had been, but he knew at least two days had passed since Rick found him. Without the bone being set, the odds were he'd have a limp at best and be a cripple at worst. He understood why Pa waited. It only made sense to be sure he wasn't gonna die before bothering to set his leg. Hop Sing was standin' at the bottom of the bed, eying all three of them. He knew why. He'd seen Pa, sneakin' looks at Rick just like him.
If only they knew for sure. If some part of his brother had been left behind – if Hoss had gone back into that raging torrent of mud and water to save a woman he'd loved...
Well, it didn't make it any easier, but it did make sense.
Joe caught his father watching him. He nodded and gave him a little smile. They both knew the bones might have begun to knit and it was gonna hurt like Hell to move them.
Pa glanced up at Rick and nodded. Joe felt the boy's grip tighten. He was waiting for pa to say 'when' when 'when' came without warning. He thought he'd been ready.
He was wrong.
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By the time Joe regained consciousness, the light was gone. Someone had stoked the fire in the hearth and the cabin smelled of apples and cinnamon. It never ceased to amaze him what Hop Sing packed in that medicine chest of his. He felt dizzy and light-headed, but if he had to tell the truth, his leg felt better. The searing pain that had filled his mind and sapped his strength for the last few days was – well – not gone, but a distant memory of what it had been.
When he came to himself enough to realize what was goin' on around him, Joe saw that his Pa was sitting at his bedside. He had a letter in his hand.
Joe licked his lips. "Hey, Pa."
The older man started and reached out to touch his arm. "Joe. How are you, son?"
"Better."
Pa's hand came down on his forehead. Then he smiled. "I believe you are. The fever is almost gone."
"Sorry," he said.
"What do you have to be sorry for?" Pa asked, confused.
"I had to come up here and then I went and, well, you know." He scowled. "It couldn't have been easy realizin' I went over the edge so near..."
Pa closed his eyes and then opened them with a sigh. "No. It wasn't. But you're here now and alive. That's all that matters."
He turned his head and looked around the cabin. "Where's Rick?"
"Outside with Hop Sing." His father cleared his throat. "I asked them to give us a minute."
Joe lifted his brows in a question, but then found the answer on his own. "The letter?" he asked.
Pa nodded. "Did you know one of them was addressed to your brother?"
He shook his head. "I asked Rick about them, but I never saw them. You mean Hoss?"
His father laughed. "Well, it's certainly not addressed to Adam."
Joe laughed too but sobered quickly. "Have you read it?"
"No. I waited on you. I think this is something we have to do together, don't you?"
He shifted and instantly his father moved to help him to sit up. Joe was surprised as a sudden fear gripped him like a fist. He didn't know what he was afraid of.
The truth, maybe.
"So, you gonna open it?"
Pa's near-black eyes met his. He paused and then his fingers cracked the years' old seal. The older man opened the page and scanned it, and then began to read.
'Eric, if you are reading this, I'm dead. I placed this letter along with one for Broderick in my Bible and told him not to open them unless something happened to me. I don't regret the choice I made. It was right for both me and you. There was no love between us, just a chance encounter between two people who were hurting and were seeking something they could never find this side of Heaven. There was a man I loved, just like you loved Emily. His family wanted nothing to do with the deaf girl. They sent him away. Emily had no choice. She died and broke your heart. I am grateful, that for a few days, I was able to mend it.
Dear friend, there is something else I did not tell you and I would not for all the world have told you if there was any other way. Shortly after I sent you away, I found I was with child. I named him after you. Broderick. Do you remember when I called you that? Broad Eric, my Viking knight. Though you didn't love me, and I sent you away and told you not to look back, you gave me a gift for which I am eternally grateful. From Heaven I am looking down on you and smiling. Rick is a good boy. He is yours now. Take care of him for he is your own.
Lily'
Tears were streaming down his cheeks. Joe thought of Emily Pennington and the deep love his brother had for the dying girl. Hoss had been devastated when he'd found out she couldn't live. He remembered he'd wanted to go after him, but his father had held him back, saying Hoss needed time.
Time in which he found Lily.
Time enough to have a son.
Joe blinked back tears. He looked at his father. Pa was crying too.
"Pa?" he asked.
His father stared at him. "I have a grandson."
Pa's words filled him with a sense of wonder. And he had a nephew! Hoss wasn't gone – not completely.
God had made sure a bit of him remained.
"When are you going to tell him?" he asked.
The older man drew in a breath, slapped his thighs and rose.
"There's no time like now."
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Rick heard his name being shouted. He paused in feeding Dumpy and turned toward the door. It sounded like somethin' was wrong. Instantly, he thought of Joe and feared the injured man had taken a turn for the worse. Quick as he could, the boy finished dumping the oats into the bucket and then, with a quick, 'I'll be back soon as I can', headed for the cabin.
Ben was standing on the porch waitin' for him. As he approached, Rick looked beyond him. At the sight of Joe, relief washed over him. The sick man was sitting up in the bed, looking his way.
The sick man's pa waited a moment and then said, softly, "I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean to frighten you. Joe is fine."
There was somethin' funny in Ben's voice. As he cleared his throat, the older man raised a hand to strike away a tear that was trailin' down his cheek.
Rick wondered if he'd done somethin' wrong. Then he saw the letters in the older man's hand. One open. One not.
Ben noticed him looking. He drew in a breath and let it out very slowly. "You said Joe told you about his brother," he began, his voice rough, "about Hoss and how he died?"
"Yes, sir." Rick paused and then added, "Joe's pretty torn up about it."
"He's blamed himself. Joe was caught in that flash flood, in the slide of mud and water that came down unexpectedly and washed out the road. His brother saved him and then went back, apparently in an attempt to save your mother. Joe was hurt and he couldn't help. Hoss was too exhausted to make the attempt and Joe took that on himself – the fact that Hoss had to go in and he couldn't." The older man paused. "I don't think Joseph understood until now why his brother did."
Ben was lookin' at him awful funny.
"And why was that?" he asked.
Joe's pa stepped off the porch and came to stand in front of him. He held out the opened letter. "This is addressed to Hoss," he said and waited.
Rick frowned. Now why would his ma have written a letter to Joe's brother? Joe said they didn't know who she was when they found her stranded with the wagon.
"I don't understand," he said at last.
"Come inside, Rick. I think you will once you hear what this letter has to say."
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Joe looked up at his pa and nodded. The older man was standing with his hand on Rick's shoulder. Pa had read the letter Lily wrote to Hoss and since he'd finished, the boy hadn't said a word. Rick was sitting with his head down, staring at the still unopened letter that was addressed to him.
"I'll leave you two alone," Pa said.
They'd decided before Rick came in that once they'd read Lily's letter, Pa would leave for a time. The boy had to be overwhelmed and Pa thought that maybe, since they'd become friends, it would be better for him to read the still unopened letter to Rick. Joe wasn't sure he could. He felt light-headed – giddy even – but he wasn't sure if that was because he'd just come out of a killing fever, or because he was suddenly the uncle of a six foot tall teenage boy.
God did move in mysterious ways.
After a moment, he dared to ask a question. "You okay, Rick? I mean, I know it's a lot to take in."
For a moment, the boy didn't move. Then Rick raised those pale eyes of his and met his stare. "You mean...I'm really..." He faltered and tried again. "Your brother Hoss is my pa? Are you sure?"
Joe snorted. Sure he was sure. Even if there hadn't been a letter, they probably would have figured it out on their own soon enough. "I'm sure," he said with a nod. "You look just like the big galoot, right down to that gap in your teeth." It was smaller than Hoss' had been, but it was there.
Rick was turning the letter over in his hands. "Ma was so small. I always wondered..."
"How you got to be so big?" Joe shook his head. "Just like me. Lookin' at Hoss, I wondered how I got to be so small!"
The boy winced. "So, that means...I mean, you're...my Uncle Joe?"
Uncle Joe. Imagine that.
"Yep." Joe paused. "Are you happy about that?"
Rick was honest. "I don't know. It's so...sudden like. To have no one and then..." His eyes suddenly lit with surprise. "That means your pa is my..."
"Grandpa. Yep."
And Pa was tickled pink.
For some reason, Rick wasn't.
"What's botherin' you?" Joe asked.
The boy blinked. "Nothin' really. I mean...what do I do now?"
"Come home with us." At Rick's look, he added, "I asked you to already, remember. It ain't just 'cause of Hoss." Joe sobered. "You saved my life. You're a good kid. You shouldn't be livin' out here all alone. You need your...family."
Rick sucked in air. "Family. I ain't never had a family. Just ma."
"Well now you got me and Pa, and Jamie. Pa adopted him a year or so back. He's just about your age." Joe hesitated and then laughed. "And just about half your size."
The boy nodded absently. He was staring at the letter in his hands.
The injured man paused. Then he said, "Rick, I'm sorry about your ma. I'm sorry I...we couldn't save her. If I'd of known she couldn't hear. I mean, I know some sign language –"
Rick was shaking his head. "Ma wouldn't have let you know, even if you'd spoken to her. She was ornery as a mule and twice as stubborn. That's why she went off on her own and left me to mind the place. I told her I should have gone with her. I..." A little sob escaped him. "I might of been able to save her."
In his mind's eye Joe witnessed the accident again, as fresh and clear as if it was happening at that moment. He'd called out to Lily. She didn't hear him. He reached for her, but before he could say another word the water and mud erupted, driving him and her off the road and down the side of the hill. He heard Hoss shout. It had seemed like hours though – in truth – it was probably less than a minute before he felt his brother's strong hands close on his arm. There was a battle between Hoss and the mud and then, all at once – like a cork in a champagne bottle – he popped out and shot up so fast and hard he knocked his brother over. Hoss had been pantin' as he dragged him up the hill and propped him against a rock that was out of the devastated area. He remembered Hoss lookin' at the mudslide and then back to him.
'I gotta go, Joe,' he said.
He'd pleaded with him not too. He knew – somehow he knew that if his brother stepped back into that maelstrom of mud and debris he wasn't ever gonna come out.
'I gotta go, Joe. I gotta save Lily."
And then, Hoss was gone.
He'd been hurt worse than he realized. When Hoss vanished, he pulled himself to his feet and started for the edge, determined to follow. He didn't make it. He remembered looking down and seeing his brother's white hat floating on the mud.
And then everything had gone dark.
It wasn't until the next day that someone came along and stumbled on him layin' at the side of the road, half out of his mind with fever and grief. They'd gone through his pockets once they got him to the settlement and to a doctor and managed to find a bill of sale that was still partially legible. Pa'd been sent for.
He didn't want to see him.
He couldn't.
He couldn't tell him Hoss was dead.
And so he had lingered near death for days before God in His mercy made the decision for him – that he would live in spite of himself.
"Joe?"
"Don't," he said.
"Don't?"
"Don't take it on yourself, Rick. Don't...dishonor your ma's memory by ruining your future with guilt. She'd want you to go on, to remember her with a smile." He closed his eyes for a second, knowing the words were for him as well as Hoss' boy. "Lily would want you to live."
For a moment Rick didn't say anything. Then his lips twitched and turned up with a shy little grin that was so like his dead brother's it took his breath away.
"You gonna take your own advice?" he asked.
Joe hesitated and then placed his hand over the boy's. "You and me. We'll do it together. Okay?"
Rick shifted his grip so he could grasp his fingers. "Deal."
Joe nodded, indicating the letter. "You want me to read that to you?"
The boy looked at the envelope in his hand. Then he shook his head. "No," he said.
Joe's eyebrows popped. "No?"
Rick shook his head. "No, Uncle Joe. I want you to teach me how to read it."
The injured man smiled as he pumped the boy's hand. "So you're comin' home with us?"
Hoss' son smiled too.
"Yeah. I'm comin' home."