CHAPTER SEVEN

LAST MOMENTS, LASTING MEMORIES

Hoss and Candy rode side-by-side across the gradually thickening vegetation. The relentless sun still bore down on them, and the expectation of riding in the shade of the pines urged them forward. Hoss pulled ahead of Candy as the trail narrowed, his eyes opened wide as he searched for new memories and reflected on the old. Candy followed close behind, anxious for a closer look at this expanse of the river. The ground was littered with rocks of all shapes and sizes, the trail obvious, but overgrown.

Scout managed to steady himself as his left front hoof came crashing down atop a large, loose stone. "Easy, boy," Candy murmured as he continued behind Chubb. A small group of rocks lay in the middle of the path and Candy watched as Hoss pulled Chubb to the left, avoiding the pile altogether. Candy attempted to follow, but Scout's footing failed to clear the obstacle. His horse faltered, and Candy slid himself to the far right of his saddle until the frightened horse regained his balance and moved on. For Candy, the next few moments flashed in and out of reality, first in slow motion, and then so quickly that he dared not blink.

The piercing cry startled Scout and sent a chill through Candy's very core. Chubb screamed, rearing over and over, as Hoss struggled to stay on his frightened horse. "Whoa, boy!" Hoss yelled. "Easy, now!"

Scout side-stepped, trying to avoid Chubb's twisting mass, as Candy, too, fought to rein in his mount. "Easy, Scout, easy!" Candy cried.

Chubb spun around and screamed again, his head thrashing, as Hoss clung tightly to the horn of his slipping saddle.

"Hoss!" Candy shouted. "Jump before he falls on you!" Candy pulled Scout in closer, hoping Scout's nearness might help as he reached desperately for Chubb's noseband. "Whoa, boy!" he yelled. Chubb's powerful body bucked and twisted, and Candy held his breath as he watched Hoss plummet toward the rock-littered mountainside. "Oh, God! Hoss!"

Chubb managed, yet again, to right himself before galloping off into the trees. Candy flew from his saddle, rushed to Hoss, and dropped to his knees next to his bleeding friend. It was only then that Candy discovered the reason for Chubb's panic – Hoss's arms lying limp alongside a large hoof print in what appeared to have been a burrow, now crawling with a litter of sidewinder snakes, guarded to the death by their thirty-inch mother. Candy grabbed Hoss's feet, struggling to drag him clear of the burrow. But as Hoss's arm slid across the loose dirt, several of the snakes rattled. Candy swore, switching directions as his adrenaline flowed freely, coursing through his veins. He pulled and tugged his unconscious friend, praying to avoid the poised snakes. But the reptiles held no hesitation and Candy watched helplessly as three sets of fangs dove into the flesh on Hoss's forearm. As he hauled Hoss from the burrow, Candy had the presence of mind to shoo Scout away from the scene. A tall rock formation, shaded on the edge of the forest seemed the best place to tend to Hoss's injuries, and Candy propped him against the side before destroying the snakes as they searched desperately for their demolished burrow.

"Hoss!" Candy whispered, his breath heaving against his lungs. "Hoss, can you hear me?" Candy untied his neck cloth and ripped it from his neck as he rushed to Scout to retrieve his canteen. "Easy, boy." He tethered Scout to a low-hanging branch, afraid that the horse's usually calm demeanor had been tested enough, and since Chubb had disappeared into the forest, Candy was taking no chances with their only remaining mount. Unscrewing the cap from his canteen as he returned to Hoss, Candy called to Chubb, hoping the horse would heed his call. "Chubb! C'mere, boy! Chubby!"

Crouched again next to Hoss, Candy dabbed at the wound on the side of Hoss's head. "Hoss, wake up!" Candy ordered. "You must have hit one of those damned stones when you landed. C'mon, Hoss! Open your eyes!" Satisfied that the bleeding was slowing, Candy turned his attention to the snake bites on Hoss's forearm. "Looks like three of 'em gotcha. Good thing is," he said, breathing heavily as he opened his penknife, "from the size of the bite marks, looks like only one of them was an adult." Candy, his hands shaking, snatched Hoss's gun from his holster, opened the cylinder, and removed one bullet. Carefully, he pried the casing apart, sweat dripping into his eyes as he continued trying to revive Hoss. "Can you hear me? Hoss! I need ya to open your eyes, my friend." Finally, the top of the sheath sprung loose, and Candy stood and rummaged through the brush in search of a long, sturdy stick. The first one he found was thick and straight, but not long enough. "Come on, come on!" The third he found was both strong and lengthy, and he quickly pounded it into the ground with his canteen. He tied one end of his neck cloth to the stake, the other he wrapped tightly around Hoss's wrist. Satisfied that his unconscious patient wouldn't be moving his arm, Candy cautiously poured the powder from the bullet across the swelling, red bites on Hoss's arm. "I guess it's a good thing you won't be awa . . ."

"Mm," Hoss moaned, grabbing his side with his free arm while tugging against the stake with the other. "Ahh!" he cried, clutching his ribs and glaring at his bound arm. "Chubb?" he whispered.

"Easy, Hoss," Candy said, pressing his wide shoulders back against the rocks. "You must have broken a few ribs."

"Chubb?" Hoss asked again.

"He's taking a little walk," Candy replied.

"You mean he ran off," Hoss said, coughing and wincing as he tried again to raise his head and look at his arm. "What happened?"

"I'll tell ya, but only if you lie back and don't try ta move!"

Hoss nodded, the strength he'd summoned upon waking deserting him completely.

"Best I can tell," Candy said, "ole Chubb found himself a burrow of sidewinders and tossed you up against a rock or two."

"He git bit?" Hoss asked, his breathing shallow and labored.

"Not that I could tell. He didn't seem ta have any trouble runnin' off into the woods."

"Ahh!" Hoss cried, his head pounding in rhythm with the throbbing that was beginning in his arm. "Tell me the rest."

"All right," Candy agreed. "After you bashed your head against the rocks, your arm must have grazed the burrow. You got bitten, my friend. Three times."

Again, Hoss tried and failed to raise his head. "How bad?"

"Bad enough," Candy replied. I was just about to . . ."

"Burn it out," Hoss said, nodding his agreement.

"Hoss, I wish you'd stayed unconscious just a few minutes longer!"

"Jist do it!" Hoss said, his stare into Candy's light blue eyes signaling his permission.

Candy nodded. He fumbled nervously with his saddlebag, digging inside for the box of matches. His heartbeat thumped against his chest, dreading what he knew had to be done. He knelt once again, grabbed a small branch, and broke it in half.

"Hoss . . ." Candy whispered.

"I know, Candy," Hoss said, accepting the inevitable. "Jist get it over with."

Candy held the stick in front of Hoss's eyes, and when Hoss opened his parched lips, he placed it between Hoss's teeth. Candy inhaled, blew the air out in a steady, calming stream, and struck a match against his boot heel. His face contorted and his lips pursed and stretched as he lowered the flame to Hoss's forearm. I'm sorry, Hoss!

The flame wiggled, hovering just above the surface of Hoss's skin. Candy blew lightly on the dancing shape and the gunpowder ignited. Hoss screamed, the muted cry echoing in the opening where he lay. Candy pressed with both hands against Hoss's bicep, forcing it against the ground as Hoss fought against the pain raging in his arm. His straining and rapid heartbeat opened Hoss's head wound, and a thin trail of blood trickled down his forehead and onto his cheek as he moaned and ground his teeth deeper and deeper into the stick.

"It's almost out, Hoss!" Candy yelled. "Hang on!"

What seemed like endless minutes in reality was merely a few seconds. The stench of burned flesh and gunpowder rose from Hoss's arm, and twice, Candy turned his head and gagged. He untied Hoss's wrist, grabbed his canteen, saturated his neck cloth, and, as gently as possible, wrapped Hoss's forearm.

The stick slipped from Hoss's teeth, falling down his chin and onto his heaving chest. "You all right?" Hoss asked, his voice weak and husky.

"Am I all right?" Candy repeated. "Yeah, my friend," he replied as he clasped Hoss's shoulder, "I'm all right. Now, how are we gonna get you to a doc? If I know that horse of yours, he's liable to head straight back to the Ponderosa."

Hoss, his eyes heavy and his face growing pale, nodded his agreement.

Candy felt the bile rise into his throat. I've gotta get him some help. Something just doesn't feel right. There's more than a few broken ribs and those snakebites. Maybe a concussion? Or internal injuries? Even if I can get him up on Scout, if I walk, it'll take us more than a day to get back to Zach's ranch. "So," Candy announced, "I guess Scout's gonna have to carry us both back to Zach's."

"Candy, I . . . don't think . . . that's . . ."

"Hoss! Hoss!" Candy had cried, shaking him by his shoulders. "Hoss! . . . DAMN IT!"

"He passed out," Adam said, his mind assailed with images of Hoss's unconscious, bleeding form, his arm swollen, and his flesh singed. Adam dropped his head into his hands, his head shaking in disbelief.

"Yeah," Joe said, similar pictures flashing before his tear-filled eyes. "And there was no way Candy could get Hoss up onto Scout, let alone make it all the way back to Zach's.

"What about a travois?" Adam asked, his flat tone telling of his already knowing the answer.

"Candy thought of that," Joe replied, "In fact, since he didn't have much rope, he went so far as to ride down the river a bit searching for vines."

Adam sighed, his fingertips rubbing the back of his neck. "There aren't any vines along the Truckee in spring."

"Yeah," Joe whispered. "Candy found that out and then kicked himself for wasting precious time."

"He didn't know," Adam added.

"But he blames himself . . . for that and more."