The Road Not Taken------

Cal Longladd watched his wife closely and wondered why she seemed so tense. Daniel Wallace had come to see them as soon as he had the results of the x-rays and tests and explained that aside from a mild concussion, Bryan would be fine. The physician wanted to keep their son overnight for observation, but told them as long as he had a quiet night he should be able to leave and be home in time for lunch. He'd called The Lazy L and spoke with Maria, explaining that he would be spending the night at the hospital with his son. Maria had warned him that Lily was very upset and he'd spoken to her before she calmed down. No matter how much she argued with her older brother, Lily loved him and looked up to him.

Cal looked at his son who had fallen asleep soon after being moved to a semi private room near the main nurse's desk. The other bed was unoccupied, giving them some privacy and he moved to embrace the mother of his children, only to feel her flinch away. "Julie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing…I'm just worried about Bryan. I should never have challenged him to a race," Julie told him.

"You heard Danny, Julie, he's going to be fine…he'll probably be begging us to let him ride Cisco before we get home tomorrow." Longladd explained and turned his wife so he could look into her eyes. "Julie, why don't you go home and get some rest, I'll stay with Bryan and be home as soon as he's released?"

"Someone should be there for Lily," Julie said and sighed tiredly.

"Yes, she was upset when I spoke to her."

"All right, Cal, I'll go home, but you'll call if anything happens."

"You know I will," Longladd assured her and kissed her before moving aside and letting her walk past him. He watched her walk out the door and wondered why she seemed so distant. Normally she would have stayed with him to watch over their son, but thing had changed and he wondered when it happened and what he could do to fix things. With a heavy sigh he returned to his chair by the bed and sat down to watch over his oldest child.

MANNIX-MANNIX-MANNIX

Joe had never felt so tired in his life, but there was no way he could stop until he reached the trail. He glanced up, blinking away the beds of sweat that dripped into his eyes and clinging to the exposed roots in an effort to stop himself from sliding back to the ledge. Again and again he reached up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side and the dull ache that had settled in his skull. There was no doubt in his mind that Steve Caldwell was no longer topside, because if he had been he'd have had a clear shot long ago. Joe coughed and cried out, but held tight to the root he'd latched onto as pain radiated out from the wound in his side.

Mannix knew he had to keep going and called upon the minute reserves that had given him the reputation of being a stubborn cuss amongst the men he'd served with. He could still hear Art Malcolm telling him he never knew when it was time to lay down and let someone else do the work for a change.

"I hear you A…Art," he ground out, but did not stop his upward journey. Again and again his hands found something to grab onto while his feet slipped on the uneven ground before finding something to brace against. He glanced below, blinking several times until his eyes focused on the distant ground so far below and he knew if he lost his grip he would not survive the fall. Turning back to the task at hand he glanced up and was surprised by what he saw. His hand had gripped a low hanging branch from a tall pine that was growing out of the side of the gorge, but that wasn't what surprised him.

Joe could barely suppress his excitement as he dragged his aching body up and over the edge and finally lay on his back, staring up through the branches high above him. He closed hi eyes, pressed his right hand against his side and he tried to control his breathing and keep the nausea at bay. He had no idea how long he lay there, but finally manage to get his eyes open and realized it was going to be dark soon. He had to keep moving or risk being found by the animals that roamed the mountains at night.

Fighting the urge to close his eyes and give in, Joe managed to get to his feet and look around. It would take every ounce of strength he had just to force one foot in front of the other. He looked left and right and wondered whether he'd be better off heading down into the gorge or going back to the camp. They'd been riding for nearly an hour before Caldwell shot him, and it would take a lot longer than that on foot. His side burned with an intensity that threatened to floor him, but he pushed the pain aside and headed back up the trail, hoping and praying the wild animals didn't catch the scent of blood.

Joe knew if he reached the camp he could restart the fire and hopefully keep the animals at bay until either help arrived or morning came and he could head back down the mountain. The creek was there and he could clean the wound in his side, hell he could simply immerse himself in the cold water and get rid off the dirt that was ground into his clothing. He stumbled along as a cool wind blew down from the mountains, and wished he could just lie down and sleep, but to do that would mean certain death.

"One more…just one m…more s…step," he repeated as he tried to ignore the little voice that was telling him to lie down and rest for a few minutes. Joe remembered his sergeant screaming at him and the other men to stop acting like schoolgirls and do what was expected of them. His breathing was shallow as he held tight to his ribs and continued toward his destination.

MANNIX-MANNIX-MANNIX

Walt Scott dismounted at the corral and looked around, surprised when he didn't see his boss walking toward them. Longladd had made a habit of meeting the returning wranglers, but he was no where to be seen. He glanced toward the spot were the truck was usually parked and realized the younger man must have driven into town.

"Hey, Walt, I can take care of your horse if you want to go see Cookie," Taylor Boyd teased.

"You're a real card, Taylor, but seeing as how you offered here you go," Scott said and tossed the younger man his reins. "Make sure you give him plenty of hay and a good rub down."

"I was just…"

"About to say you'll do just that," Scott said and walked toward the house. He could hear the others ribbing Taylor Boyd and smiled when he reached the door and it opened before he could knock. The look on Maria's face was enough to tell him something was wrong and he stepped inside before wrapping his arms around her.

"Oh, Walt, why is someone trying to hurt the Longladds?" Maria sobbed against his shoulder.

"I don't know…but I intend to find out. Where's Cal?"

"Bryan was hurt. Someone cut his cinch almost all the way through and it broke when he went for a ride with his mother. He fell and hit his head and they took him to the hospital in Dubois. Cal called to say he's going to be okay, but Dr. Wallace wants to keep him overnight for observation."

"Damn it…I'd like to get my hands on the sonofabitch who's behind this!" Scott said and allowed the woman to lead him into the kitchen. "Where are Lily and Joseph?"

"Sleeping…Lily was so upset she cried herself to sleep about an hour ago," Maria explained and reached for the pot of coffee. "You must be starved. I'll heat up the stew…"

"It'll keep, Maria, sit down and relax," Scott ordered and pulled her onto the bench beside him. "Are Cal and Julie staying in town with Bryan?"

"Yes," Delaney answered, rubbing at tired eyes. "I just wish this would stop and we could get back to normal around here."

"I do too…you know why Cal brought Mannix here?"

"I do…I remember him talking about Joe Mannix and he's supposed to be one of the best private investigators in the business," Maria explained.

"He'll figure this out…you wait and see," Scott said and prayed he was right about the younger man's abilities.

MANNIX-MANNIX-MANNIX

Julie Longladd stood in front of the mahogany door and rubbed at her arms. She'd driven around town for nearly an hour, but there was no way she could get out of this. Darryl Boyd had too much on her and he would never allow her to go back to the way things were before they'd started their love affair. The wind had picked up and she wished she'd brought a sweater with her. She turned as the door opened and stood face to face with the man who had suddenly become a monster in her eyes.

"Come in before the neighbors get too nosey," Boyd warned, grabbing her arm and dragging her inside. He closed the door and pinned her up against the wall, smiling as he kissed her roughly and tore at her clothing.

"Please, Darryl, no…"

"Now, Julie, you know you want this as much as I do so be quiet and we'll both get what we want. I put a bottle of Chardonnay on ice and took the liberty of having Muriel prepare a meal for us…"

"I'm not hungry," Julie said, her voice filled with sorrow.

"That's fine…gives us more time in bed," Boyd said and dragged her toward the stairs.

"Please, Darryl, Cal might call me and he's expecting me to be at home," Julie begged.

"So, you can make up some excuse…you're good at that. Look, Julie, I don't know what the hell changed your mind here but it's time you realized who is in charge. I own you…and soon you'll come to realize you and I are meant to be together," Boyd told her and ignored the soft sobs that escaped her throat when he pulled her into a crushing embrace. "You're mine, Baby, get used to it!"

Julie Longladd knew defeat, and allowed him to do as he pleased. She had no one but herself to blame and her life was damned because of her own mistakes. She knew now that her feelings for Cal Longladd were stronger than she believed, and that she'd chosen to ignore them because she wanted the money more than a loving husband and family. It was too late for her to change, but maybe she could still protect her family…or die trying.

MANNIX-MANNIX-MANNIX

Joe Mannix had never felt so bone weary before and knew it was not going to get better any time soon. He'd discovered there were more injuries than he'd first thought and limped heavily with each step he took. His left leg was the worst and he'd found a gash that was seeping blood through the thick blue denim that covered his right thigh. The sun had gone down and with it came the cooler temperatures and a sharp wind that reminded Joe of how rapidly the temperatures dropped at this altitude.

A strange sound to his left brought him up short and he stopped, leaning his left hand on his knee as he listened for the sound to be repeated. His breathing sounded harsh to his own ears, making it hard to distinguish the night noises, but the sound didn't come again and he started forward. It took a few minutes to realize he was no longer climbing what felt like an insurmountable slope and that his feet were landing on the soft grass. He turned and glanced around, barely able to discern the dark shadows, but soon heard the sound of running water that told him he was close to the creek.

A heavy sigh escaped his parched throat and Joe knew he needed to get something to drink and made his way toward the sound of salvation. He nearly fell into the water, but was able to stop his forward momentum and landed hard on the ground, crying out when pain erupted through his side with a heat that burned like molten lava.

"G…God," he ground out and inched his way to the water. He turned onto his left side and dipped his hand into the water, failing miserably when he attempted to bring it to his mouth. His hand shook and his vision blurred as he slid his body closer and put his lips to the cold water. It tasted like heaven and he drank his fill before lying on his back and staring up at the sky overhead. There were no clouds and the first stars appeared at the edge of his vision.

Joe wanted nothing more than to stay where he was, but to do so would not help his plight. He needed warmth and he needed a fire to help keep the animals at bay. He could hear the small voice at the back of his mind getting louder and chose to ignore what it was saying. 'rest…the fire can wait…just a few minutes…rest…'

"I wish," Mannix whispered and forced himself to take care of his needs first. He had to clean the wounds and that meant water, but right now he had nothing to carry the water in. If he made it to the campsite and started the fire there was no way in hell he'd make it back to the creek. Right now his wounds took priority and cleaning them meant immersing his lower body into the water. Taking a deep breath Joe removed his shoes and socks and looked down at the jeans he wore. It was going to be hell getting them off, but if he got them wet they'd be useless to him for warding off the chill wind blowing down from the top of the mountain.

Resigned to the fact that there'd be no respite from the pain, Joe stood up and slid the jeans down his legs until he wore nothing but his boxers and the remnants of his shirt. He dropped the jeans to the ground and stepped into the water, breathing through tightly clenched teeth until he was up to his knees in the cold stream. His teeth chattered and he barely managed to keep from falling as he undid the makeshift bandage from his right side. It was wet with blood and he groaned as he bent at the waist and rinsed as much as he cold from the material. He used the cloth to clean the gunshot wound as best he could before repeating the process with the gash on his left thigh.

Joe lost track of time, but was finally satisfied that he'd done what he could and looked up, surprised to see the moon had made an appearance. Making his way slowly back to shore, he again used his belt to hold the bandage against his wound. Once he had it secured, Joe reached for his jeans and pulled them on. With the eerie light cast by the full bodied moon, Joe limped toward the trail that would take him to the camp and prayed Boyd had left the matches where he'd placed them earlier in the day when he'd fixed breakfast.

One step at a time became his goal and he silently prayed he'd have the strength to reach the camp. He looked up at the moon that seemed impossibly close as it crept across the sky bringing with it a blanket of twinkling stars that helped light his path. Joe had no idea how long he'd been stumbling along, but on several occasions he'd been forced to stop and get his bearings before moving on. It came as a surprise that he'd actually made it when he stumbled over the cold fireplace Boyd had used earlier in the day.

Joe stopped and listened, but the sounds were not repeated as he moved toward the pile of logs stacked near the fire pit. Joe reached beneath the two stones and found the tin box, opening it and nearly crying out in relief when he found the box nearly half full. There were several pieces of paper and kindling left from the morning and he slowly built a small teepee with the sticks before striking a match and setting the paper on fire. He blew softly until the kindling caught and continued to stoke the small fire until he added several pieces of wood around the outer edge.

Joe watched with heavy eyes as the flames caught and the wood began to burn. He warmed his hands over the flames and shivered as the wind picked up. He looked around, searching for anything they might have overlooked when packing up, but there wasn't much he could use. With the fire came the warmth his body needed, but it also made him realize just how tired he was and Joe added more logs before lying on his left side. He placed his left arm under his head and pressed his right hand tight against his side as darkness reached up and dragged him into its welcoming maw.

TBC