PART TWO
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The waters compassed me about, even to the soul: the depth closed me round about, the weeds were wrapped about my head. Jonah 2:5
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SIX
Hoss Cartwright eyed his older brother who stood beside him clinging onto the same rope he was, and then turned back to watch the progress of his younger brother who seemed hell-bent on breaking his neck. Little Joe'd insisted on rappellin' down the side of a cliff to save a stray calf that had got stuck on a two foot-wide ledge some fifteen feet below. They'd told him to forget it and he'd just about bit their head off for it, callin' them all sorts of things, some of which would have made even old Viney at the Bucket blush.
"Joe's taking too many chances," Adam said, his words as tight as his grip on the rope.
"So why'd you let him do it?" he asked.
Adam sighed. "Because I knew if I didn't, Joe would come back out here on his own later and try. Dangerous as this is, at least you and I are here to keep the worst from happening."
Hoss shook his head. "Ever since those bank robbers took him, its like Little Joe's got to prove somethin' to hisself. Like, well, he don't dare admit anythin' scares him."
His brother eyed the drop before them. "And that scares me."
He thought a moment. "It's hard, ain't it? Knowin' what to do, I mean. Before he left Pa kept quotin' Doc Martin and tellin' me I gotta have patience with Joe, that we gotta wait until little brother works things out."
"I got the same speech," Adam agreed. As his brother adjusted his grip, one eyebrow peaked and his dimples appeared. "And the stern look. Pa practically ordered me to give Joe his head. Let him gallop it out."
The big man looked at the rope in their hands. Joe had just tugged on it, meaning he had reached the ledge safely. "That what we're doin' now? Givin' Joe his head?"
Adam shrugged. "In a way. The problem is, Pa also told me to keep Joe out of trouble."
"Kind of hard to do both, ain't it?" Hoss grinned.
"Kind of."
"What're you two old ladies doing up there?" Little Joe's voice called up from below. "Chatting over tea? I got the calf roped and ready. Come on! Pull!"
Hoss puffed out a sigh. "You suppose if a man rolls his eyeballs one too many times they can get stuck up inside his head?"
"I would suggest the use of empirical data," his college-educated brother said as he began to pull hand over hand . "Experiment. Observe. Record." And with that, Adam did about the best eyeball roll Hoss had ever seen. "They came back down," he reported.
The big man snorted like a horse sensing a rattler. "Well, if anyone's eyes was gonna get stuck, it'd be yours, older brother! They done made that turn enough times since Joe's been born."
"Hey!" Joe yelled again. "Pay attention! Give it another tug, she's almost there!"
The baby calf mooed in fear as they complied and it's reddish head topped the rise. Hoss dropped the rope and went to her. Reaching down, he caught the animal in his arms and brought the little lady up all in one movement. Laughing, he set her down, untied the harness of ropes that bound her, and then slapped her on her rear and sent her running toward the small herd they'd corralled that morning.
"You bottle feeding her?" Little Joe shouted. "Let down the rope! I'm getting tired of waiting!"
Adam was at the edge looking down. "The rope's headed your way, Joe," he said as he played it out. "Be sure you secure it and double-check your knots before signaling us to pull you up."
"Doggone it, what kind of a fool do you think I am, older brother? I ain't gonna do that," came Joe's sarcastic reply. "I'm gonna tie the knots wrong so they let loose halfway up and I fall down the cliff and break my neck. Figured Pa would like it better that way!"
Hoss walked to Adam's side and took the rope and anchored it around his middle to make it extra secure.
"First dibs on who gets to smack some sense into baby brother when that curly head of his shows," he said as Joe's weight pulled him slightly toward the edge.
"No way." Adam's dark head shook from side to side as one black eyebrow cocked. "Being oldest has got to be good for something."
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It felt odd to sit at the head of the table.
Though it was his right as oldest present, Adam still shifted uncomfortably in his pa's chair. If it had just been the three of them, he would have stayed in his normal spot, but they'd invited Del and Hoyle to join them and added Roy Coffee to the mix when the lawman had unexpectedly shown up. Roy was freshly returned from yet another fruitless search for the men who'd taken Little Joe captive and he wanted to ask him a few more questions. Joe had immediately grown sullen. Over the last few weeks his baby brother had made it abundantly clear that he had no desire whatsoever to talk about what had happened. From outward appearances, it seemed had happened. Joe's scratches and cuts were healed, as was his ankle. Inward was another matter. As predicted, Little Joe had become even more unpredictable. He was more volatile as well. The slightest thing set him off. And he wasn't sleeping. Nightmares plagued him, awaking both him and them, sometimes several times a night. Joe, of course, denied every time that he had had a night terror. Adam looked at him now where he saw at the opposite end of the table with his head close to Hoyle's. The circles under Joe's eyes and the sallow coloring of his cheeks begged that to be a lie. There'd been more than one time in the days since Pa had left that he'd had to use his authority just to get Joe to eat. Well, in all honesty to get Joe to do just about anything at all. They were walking a tightrope, him and his youngest brother.
One of these days, in spite of everything, one of them was going to fall off.
"So, Roy," Hoss said as he picked up a spoonful of potatoes, "you ain't seen hide nor hair of any of those bank robbers?"
"Not seen or heard, Hoss," Roy replied as he reached for his cup of coffee. "Been askin' around too, all the way to California. There's a lot of rumors, but not much fact."
"What are the rumors, Roy?" Adam asked as Hop Sing offered to refill his water. Placing a hand over the top of the glass he declined. "Or can you say?"
The older man nodded. "Don't see no problem in this here company, since this effects you all – most of all Little Joe."
Adam watched his little brother's eyes move to the lawman, but he remained locked in conversation with Hoyle. The two had become close over the last six weeks.
Roy leaned back in his chair. "Seems there was something like six men robbed the bank. Wade Harvey was the brains of the outfit and Pythias Morgan, the brawn. The other three were along for the ride – and the money." He sniffed. "Now we know out of those five, three are dead and two, including Wade, are on their way to prison."
"That's five out of five, Roy," Del said. He'd been listening, but hadn't spoken until now. "Why are you still looking if you have them all?"
"Well, you see, that's where these here rumors come into play," the lawman replied. "Witnesses in Genoa claim they saw eight men on the outskirts of town, not five. If that's true, there's three of them robbers remainin'."
"Front men, you think?" Adam asked. "Or maybe lookouts?"
"Maybe the brains of the outfit?" Hoss chimed in.
"Somethin' of that sort. Anyhow, I ain't gonna sleep right until I figure it out. Either we got us three bad men on the loose in these parts, or we don't. I want to know which it is. " Roy turned in his seat and looked to the end of the table. "That's why I wanted to talk to Little Joe again."
Adam saw his brother stiffen at the mention of his name. Joe glanced at Hoyle and then at the lawman. "I told you all I know, Sheriff Coffee," he said as he straightened in his seat.
"I'm sure you did, boy. I'm sure you did. It's just, well, sometimes things come back to a man, days or even weeks later. I wanted to ask you if you thought you seen any other robbers than the five we can account for. Maybe in the trees, or hiding in the shadows. Maybe a shadow themselves, movin' at the edge of your eye."
Little Joe glared at the lawman for a moment and then closed his eyes. He honestly seemed to be trying to remember. After a moment, he shook his head. "I just saw a line of men. I didn't have a chance to count them." He swallowed hard. "Mostly I saw Wade and...Morgan. Sorry."
Roy's voice was soft. "Ain't nothin' to say you're sorry for, son. You had other things to think about."
The prospect of those 'other things' hung over the table and between them for a moment of silence.
Finally Roy turned to Del. "What about you? You see anythin'?"
"Adam and I were focused on the man holding Joe," he responded in his thick southern drawl. "I was sure Pythias was going to kill him."
Even as Roy turned to him, Adam's eyes remained fixed on his brother. Joe was visibly shaking now. "Same with you, Adam?"
His brother was scooting his chair back. It was time to change the subject.
"Let's discuss it over a glass of brandy once supper ends, shall we, Roy?" His eyes flicked to his brother and the lawman got it.
"Sure thing, Adam. " Roy took another sip of coffee. "You hear from your pa yet?"
He nodded. "Pa wired and asked if I could join him in a few days. Seems there are some papers he left here at the house that he needs in order to finish building his case against Stanfield."
"You'll be going to Genoa then?"
Adam's eyes went to Joe who was standing, ready to leave the table.
"Day after tomorrow," he replied, "which brings me to the upcoming roundup. Since I'll be leaving to join Pa, we need to get that small herd out of the south forty and join them with the larger herd. Before I go, I have to ride into town to gather a few more things to support Pa's case. I thought – while Hoss goes to check on the big herd, maybe you could drive the other one up to meet him...Joe."
It was a risk. Maybe a big one. But the look his baby brother gave him when it dawned on him what he had just said was worth it.
"Me? You're gonna trust me?" Joe exclaimed.
"Any reason I shouldn't?" he asked quietly.
"Heck, no!" Little Joe was grinning from ear to ear.
"It's about fifty head. You think you can handle that?"
"Can I pick my own men?"
Adam raised a hand. "Whoa. We'll pick them together."
Joe seemed to accept that. He glanced at his newfound friend. "Can Hoyle come?"
He hesitated. Not because he didn't trust Hoyle. He was nearly seventeen and he'd seen him around the ranch. Hoyle was no stranger when it came to working with cattle, or to hard work itself for that matter. He and Joe had done a good job mending the fences. But...and it was a big 'but'...he knew as well what could happen when you put two teenage boys together with little or no supervision. Adam's lips quirked at the edges.
He'd been young himself once, after all.
Years ago, it seemed.
"Joe, I don't know..."
His brother's jaw tightened. His nostrils flared. 'Here it comes,' he thought.
Instead, Joe roped in his anger and laid out a good argument. "Hoyle's older than me, Adam. He knows how to rope and ride. He can be a big help. And you said yourself, no one looks out for your back like a friend. "
"Hoyle's been on drives before, Adam," Del said, adding his support. "He knows his way around steers."
Adam glanced at Roy Coffee whose light blue eyes reflected his own mixed feelings. Hoss was watching him closely, obviously wondering what he was up to. It was hard to explain. It just seemed to him that, maybe, if he showed Joe he thought he was man enough to do this – that he trusted him – it might help his little brother to let go of the horror of what had happened six weeks before.
Finally, he nodded. "All right. You two can go. After we finish eating, we'll head out to the bunkhouse together and recruit a few others to go with you. You can head out in the morning."
"Sure thing, Adam," Little Joe said, his green eyes smiling. "Thanks."
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Adam and Sheriff Coffee were having their brandy. Rather than remaining downstairs, Joe took Hoyle up to his room where they sat on the bed talking about the drive and how much fun it was gonna be to spend several days together without their older brothers around. They'd got to do that with the fence – spend time together – but most days now they had their own chores to do that kept them apart and they only got to talk an hour or so in the evenings.
He liked Hoyle.
The southerner had been kind of quiet when they met, but over the last few weeks Joe'd found out his new friend could talk your arm off when he wanted to. He'd also found out Hoyle wasn't like him in one way. He had one of those tempers that simmered until it suddenly boiled over. Everyone knew when he was mad. Hoss told him he looked like a loco stallion. He'd found out about Hoyle's temper one day when one of the other hands had made fun of his friend's slow Louisiana drawl. At first it seemed the teasing didn't bother his friend, but then quicker than a hot knife sliced butter, Hoyle had the other man up against the barn with his arms pinned behind his back and his nose smashed into the boards.
They'd settled it without pa hearing about it.
Joe stared at the curly headed youth. His friend had risen from the bed and was looking at one of the books Adam had given him the year before that he kept on the table by the window. Even though Hoyle was only two years older than him, he was pretty worldly-wise. He'd been with a girl and was no stranger to a shot of whiskey. He said traveling alone with his brother had taken him into places most kids weren't allowed in since Del couldn't leave him on his own. Joe snorted. He'd thought about that, and then thought about what it would have been like to travel with his older brother. Somehow he doubted Adam would have taken him to a sporting house or into a saloon. Most likely he would have spent his days wearing a fancy suit and sitting in some library or attending the opera, or some other boring thing like that.
"A thousand for your thoughts," Hoyle said with a grin.
Joe started. Then he smiled too. "You ain't got a thousand."
His friend shrugged. "Not now, I haven't. Maybe one day."
"When you get back to Louisiana, you mean?" Joe asked rising and crossing to where his friend stood looking down at something on his dresser.
"Who's this?" Hoyle asked, picking up the frame that held the image of a beautiful blond woman and holding it out to him. "I don't remember this being here the other night. She's real pretty. Friend of yours?"
Breathe, Joe, he thought, breathe. It's all right. It was 'all right', he told himself, for Hoyle to pick the frame up so callously. He didn't know. He couldn't understand. Joe held his hand out. His whole body sighed when his fingers closed around the image.
"No," he said softly. "It's my mother." He'd taken the picture out of his jacket pocket and placed it on a stand on the dresser the night before so he could look at her. Every time Hoyle or Del opened their mouths and he heard their thick southern accent, it reminded him of her.
"You miss her."
Joe's eyes flicked to his friend's face. Did he? How could he miss something he couldn't really remember having? What he would say was that he longed for her. He longed to know who she had been, what had formed her – to see where she had come from.
"I hardly knew her," he said at last, replacing the frame on the dresser. "Most of what I remember is because of my brothers and my pa told me. I wish..."
"What?"
He looked at Hoyle. "I wish I could go with you to New Orleans. I sure would like to see it."
"Come with us then."
Joe blinked. "What?"
"Come with us. You'd be welcome." Hoyle beamed. "Hell, we'd have grand time of it."
He shook his head. "Adam would never let me go – or pa."
The blond shrugged. "Then don't ask them. Just go."
Six words. Six little words.
Could it really be that simple?
"Joe!" Adam's voice carried up the stairs. "I'm ready to head out to the bunkhouse. You coming?"
"Be right there!"
As he turned, Hoyle's hand came down on his shoulder. "Joe, you're like the little brother I never had. Del and me, we could show you a good time. And you could always come back. You know your family would welcome you back." Hoyle scoffed at his distressed look and then grinned. "It's not going to happen with a Cartwright. I know that. But it would be an adventure, wouldn't it?"
Joe nodded.
It certainly would.
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Roy Coffee was a man who liked everythin' tied up. He didn't cotton well to the idea of loose ends. The rumors about there bein' more bank robbers on the lam keep nigglin' at him and so he kept lookin' and askin' questions. He'd found another feller who thought he'd seen a group of eight men camped near the outskirts of Genoa a day or two before the bank robbery. He'd been able to identify Morgan and Harvey from the wanted posters. It had been dark, he said, and he'd only seen a few faces lit by the camp firelight when he stopped to ask directions. There'd been an older kind of nondescript feller with brown hair and a young one, and the rest were in-between. Since it was dark, he had no idea of the color of their eyes or hair. A couple were dressed in suits, but most like ranch hands or drovers.
Which just about described the male population of Virginia City and every other city between it and Genoa.
He was riding now toward the O'Malley place. When he'd got back to the office, he'd found a note there from Maisie, or rather, Madeline O'Malley. The girl's mother had come to town when she heard what happened and taken her daughter home. Last he heard, the girl had mended right nicely and decided to stay. He guessed Madeline's days of dreamin' of bein' an actress were done. A good thing too. The girl got a taste of what life in the big city would be like from that city slicker that beat her. A pretty one like her, alone in say Reno or Carson City? Well, he didn't like to think about it.
As he pulled up out front of the O'Malley's homestead the youngest of Sean's kids, a little boy named Rory, came flying out, his red hair flashing like copper coins in the sun.
"Rory O'Malley! You get back in here!"
Roy dismounted and removed his hat as he approached Maureen, who was standing in the open doorway, her eye on the young'un. She was in her mid-forties but had the face and figure of a woman ten years younger.
"I'd ask what can we do for you, sheriff, but I suppose you're here to see our Maddie," she said as she wiped flour from her hands onto her apron and then shooed the little boy back inside.
"Yes, Ma'am. Is that all right with you?"
Maureen sighed. "Sheriff, I'm tellin' you, that beatin' is the best thing that could have happened to the child." She struck away a wandering lock of hair. "That's a hard thing for a mother to say, but it's God's own truth. It brought her back to her senses."
"The Good Book says good comes out'a bad," he said.
Madeline's mother stared at him for a moment and then said, "I'll send her out. The wee one is in the kitchen and I don't want him hearin'."
"Completely understand, Ma'am," Roy said with a tip of his hat.
He hadn't seen Madeline for about two weeks and the lawman was pleased to find most that of the bruises from the beating were gone. She had a little scar on her lip where it had been split, but that was all that was visible.
Most of the girl's scars, he knew, were on the inside.
"Do I call you Maisie or Madeline?" he asked.
The redhead looked at him. Her large dark eyes were haunted. "Maisie's dead and Madeline, well, she's not quite livin' yet. Call me Maddie."
He nodded. "Maddie. I came because I found your note. Was there somethin' you wanted to talk about?"
"Is Little Joe all right?" she asked, surprising him.
"You know he is, Maddie. I seen you in church just this last week. Little Joe, well, he was there too."
She looked troubled. "Seeing isn't always believin'."
He noticed her accent was thicker, since she was livin' at home. "What are you worried about Maddie?"
The girl glanced back at the house and then wrapped her arms around her frame. "The man who beat me. I saw him yesterday."
His pale eyes narrowed. "Where?"
Maddie nodded toward the trees beside the road. "There. He was watching the house."
"Did he see you?"
She shook her head. "No. I was inside. I saw him through the window."
Roy glanced and then turned back. "Did anyone talk to him?" When she shook her head 'no', he had to ask, "So what makes you think he might pose some danger to Little Joe Cartwright?"
"I..." She swallowed hard. "I was foolish. I told him Joe was the one who talked me out of...performing for him."
"That was before the beatin'?"
"Yes. Little Joe, well, he told me I was better than that." She winced. "I got him into trouble with his brother. I don't want to get him in trouble with...this man."
He held her gaze. "What's his name? This city slicker?" When she hesitated, he added, "Now come on, Maddie, you know I can't help you or Little Joe if I don't know his name and what he looks like."
She shivered a bit before speaking. "He's about your age. Maybe a little taller. He likes to wear fancy suits and smoke fancy cigars. They make him feel like he's better than others. " She lifted her hand to her face. "He has a little scar, right here," she pointed above her right eyebrow. "Sort of like a dimple." Maddie's jaw tightened. "His name is Weston. Weston McCloud."
"Sounds like he should be right easy to spot with that scar." When the girl said nothing more, he nodded. "Well, thanks for the information, Maddie. I'll head on out to the Ponderosa and make Ben aware this here man might be lookin' to harm Joe."
As he started to turn away, he felt Maddie's hand on his arm. "Sheriff?"
"Yes?"
"If you... If you see Little Joe, tell him I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get him involved. I just..." She drew a breath, held it, and then released it slowly. "Weston is such a pig, I wanted him to know what a real gentleman is like."
He'd have to tell Ben that too. Maybe, in spite of his high temper and headstrong ways, Little Joe would turn out all right.
"I'm sure Ben will be right proud to hear that." Roy patted her arm. "Now you go on inside and you stay inside or with someone from your family, until you hear from me again. You hear?"
She gave him a little squeeze and then she stepped back. "I will. Thank you."
As he mounted his horse, Maddie's mother stepped outside again. He gave them both a wave and then turned and began to the trek back to Virginia City. The O'Malleys lived on the side of Virginia City opposite the Cartwrights. It would be night before he got back to town. He wouldn't be able to deliver Maddie's message until halfway through the day tomorrow.
Roy looked up as he urged his mount on, pressing the tired animal for just a little more speed.
"You keep them Cartwrights safe tonight, you hear, God? All of them, but most of all, Little Joe."
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Adam was smiling as he walked back to the house. Joe had done a good job in selecting the men to help him move the steers. He'd been afraid his young brother would limit his choices to the men closest to his age – those in their late teens and twenties with less experience – instead he had suggested a couple of older men including Dan Tolliver, who was in his sixties. Tollivar, along with thirty-four year old Joshua Bates, Hoyle, and Joe, would make up the quartet that would drive the small herd north. There was nothing complicated or difficult about the task, but the fact that he had given Joe the responsibility seemed to sit well with his little brother. Joe had been laughing and grinning like his old self when he went off to the barn to check on Cochise.
He'd left Del and Hoyle sitting in the great room when he took off with Joe. It had been about an hour so he didn't know if they would still be there, or if they would have returned to the bunkhouse, which was now their home. Hoyle had been reading and Del had been chatting with Hop Sing about the growing Chinese community in New Orleans. Between them they were trying to determine if any of their cook's countless cousins lived there. While the brothers were not completely sophisticated, Adam found chatting with them himself, especially Del, about the culture and art of the great city they lived close to invigorating. The only thing that troubled him was that Hoyle seemed pretty worldly-wise for a kid of sixteen. Still, he supposed that was to be expected since Del was his only family and so many years older.
He just hoped Hoyle wasn't filling Little Joe's head with the wrong kind of thoughts.
As he opened the door and stepped in, Adam glanced around. Hoyle was seated at the table now, eating a slice of pie supplied by Hop Sing. He didn't see Del. At least not at first. Then he saw him coming out of the area of Pa's office.
Adam frowned. "Looking for something?"
"Found it." Del grinned. "I was just looking at the map of the Ponderosa behind your father's desk. One thousand square miles." He let out a long low whistle. "That's a lot of land!"
"Pa's worked hard for every acre," he said.
"I wouldn't doubt it." The blond man gestured toward the settee. "Mind if I wait while Hoyle finishes?"
"Of course not." Adam joined him as he sat down, taking a seat in one of the red chairs near the hearth. "First or second?"
Del frowned. "What?"
"First or second slice of pie?" He laughed. "If it was Joe, you'd be here through at least two."
Hop Sing answered for the other man as he came into the room with a glass of milk and set it down in front of Del's brother. "Hoyle good boy. Eat much. Grow like weed!"
Hoyle was about as small as Joe, if a little bulkier. He could probably use it.
"So," he began, turning back to Del, "you mentioned moving on when we talked earlier. Any time soon?"
The southerner nodded. "Soon."
"Joe will be upset. He's grown quite fond of your brother."
"We're fond of him too, Adam, and all your family. Still, we need to get home. Staying in Nevada isn't going to do much toward making it to Louisiana before the snow flies."
It was October now. Del was right. "You plan on taking the train?"
"As much as possible," the other man replied, shifting back on the settee. "With the wages your pa pays, we've got enough already. I figure we'll go when Joe and Hoyle get back from taking the cattle north."
"End of the week then."
Del nodded. Turning his head, he called out to his brother. "You full yet? It's getting late and I'd like to bed down soon."
Hoyle wiped his mouth with a napkin and rose. "Done. Thanks, Hop Sing. That was great!"
The Chinese man nodded. "Boy come any time. Hop Sing cook for him what he like. Make him grow tall like brother."
The youth laughed. "Somehow, I don't think all the pie in the world could do that, Hop Sing. But thanks for trying!"
Del had risen to his feet. "That foreman of yours will be shouting early in the morning, Adam. I'm for bed. How about you?"
He nodded. "As soon as Little Joe gets back from the barn. He's tending to Cochise."
The other man smiled. "He does love that horse. You may be waiting a while."
"Maybe I'll go get a slice of that pie from Hop Sing."
Hoyle was still licking his lips. There was a drop of blackberry filling on his lower lip. "It's fine. I'm here to tell you that."
"You better get to sleep too, Hoyle. Little Joe will be up bright and early – if I have anything to do with it. We need to get those cattle moved and it will take you a day or two."
"Goodnight, Adam," Del said as he wrapped an arm around his brother and headed for the door.
"Good night."
Adam watched the pair go and then stood in the door looking out toward the barn. Del and Hoyle had such an easy relationship. He wondered why it couldn't be that way with him and Joe. Stepping off the porch, he noted that there was a light in the barn, so Joe must still be there brushing and bedding down Cochise. For a moment he thought about joining him, but then decided to head into the kitchen instead.
That blackberry pie was calling.
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Joe had finished brushing Cochise down. He'd returned the brushes to their proper places and was standing, talking to the Paint, explaining to his horse that they were going on a grand adventure in the morning. He'd asked Adam to let him pick out a horse for Hoyle to ride that could keep up with the black and white and amazingly, Adam had agreed. The pretty Palomino was in the next stall.
Together, they'd fly like the wind.
After giving Cochise a treat, Joe headed out of the barn. It was late and he knew Adam would be waiting up for him. He wondered if, when he got to twenty-five or thirty, his older brother would think he was old enough to come in on his own. Most of the time thinking about the way everybody treated him like he was made of glass made him angry. Not tonight. Tonight was a good night. Adam had trusted him. Older brother had asked him for his opinion and let it stand.
When he was almost to the house Joe heard a noise that stopped him. He couldn't say exactly what it was, but it was out of place. Almost like someone stifling a laugh. He turned and looked back toward the barn, but saw nothing. With a shake of his head, he dismissed it. Probably his imagination.
"About time you came in," he heard his older brother say.
Joe swung, anticipating a dressing down for staying so long in the barn. Instead he found Adam holding out a piece of Hop Sing's blackberry pie.
"Last one," older brother said with a grin.
"Thanks," he said as he took it.
And he knew Adam knew it was for more than just the pie.
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As soon as the two brothers entered the Cartwright house, a man emerged from the shadows beside the barn. He stared at the closed door and then, with a snort, returned to his horse and mounted.
Tomorrow was going to be fun.
