Chapter 2, Part 3

"Joseph!"

Joe jerked upright. He'd been so focused on Adam's breathing and on staying warm that he'd missed the sounds of men approaching.

"Joseph, are you down there?"

Joe waited for Adam's heart to beat once more, just to be sure, then turned his head toward the voice. "Yeah, Pa!" he shouted back. "We're here."

A sprinkling of bright lights bobbed in a staggered line above him.

There was a mixed murmur of voices, too indistinct to make out, then his father again. "We're sending some men down - just hang on."

By now Joe could clearly hear the noises of men gathering at the bank - the clack and splash of someone's feet on the wet stones, the clattering of something heavy and hollow, his father's deep voice, lowered with urgency, arguing about something.

Joe rested his head on Adam's, shivering too hard himself now to tell if he had warmed him any or not. "Hear that, big brother? Help is right here. Almost home."

Adam didn't answer - hadn't made a sound since that one time, but Joe kept his hand where it was so he could still feel his heart laboring away. He suddenly realized that somebody was pulling at that hand and shrank away from them, tightening his other arm protectively around Adam.

"Joe - Joe! It's Curly! You gotta let him go now!"

Joe blinked, frowning suspiciously in front of him, then squinting uncomfortably at the faint glow of light from a lantern resting nearby. "Curly?" he glared. "Where the heck did you go for help? Reno?"

Curly chuckled softly, pulling with gentle insistence at the death grip Joe had around Adam's chest. "Cold sure makes you cranky, huh? Joe, you're gonna have to let go so we can get you both outta here."

Now Joe realized that there was someone behind him, too, trying to help him to his feet even as Curly was trying to take Adam from him. Almost involuntarily, he clung harder.

He heard Curly's heavy sigh, felt him stop prying at his arms.

"Joe, if we don't get at least one of you up on that bank pretty soon yer Pa's comin' down here, and I know you don't want that. So you gonna let go or you gonna hold on till both of you freeze ta death?" Joe eased his grip a little. "Good. Now, let ol' Frank help you and let me help Adam, and we'll all go home."

Joe let go with one arm but hesitated at removing his hand from Adam's heart. "You gotta be careful with him."

"Wouldn't have it no other way."

"I think his arm's broke - the right one."

"I'll watch fer it."

"He ain't breathin' too good neither - "

"All the more reason to move this along."

"Right." Joe dropped his other arm and was immediately hefted to his feet. He was surprised at the way his knees wobbled. Frank firmly turned him toward the bank, but he couldn't resist a backward glance and saw Curly preparing to shift Adam onto his shoulders.

Well, Curly was strong. It'd be all right. It would be. It had to be.

Frank was talking to him - something about blankets and wet clothes -

"We got hot coffee up there, too - reckon you'd better get some down you. Don't worry about ol' Adam - Curly'll look out fer him an' there's a whole crew waiting on the bank to heft him up…"

Joe became aware of an odd sensation under his feet and tried to see the creek bed. "What did you do with the rocks?"

"Brought some boards along to cover them…Curly said we needed a more stable surface."

"Oh. Good thinking…" he had barely finished that thought when he felt Frank force a rope under his arms and yell, "Take him up!" and his feet left the ground abruptly. Strong hands grabbed his shoulders, then slid the rope over his head almost before he knew what had happened. Someone threw a blanket around him and handed him a steaming tin cup. It felt like heaven in his stiff palms, but the cup shimmied like it was doing a jig, and he noticed for the first time how hard he was shaking.

"Joseph!" He recognized the familiar legs that stopped in front of him, saw his fathers face, lined and drawn, even in the poor light offered by the lanterns, as he crouched before him. "You all right, son?"

He nodded, sucking down the steaming beverage. "Fine, Pa. A little c-cold. Where's - ?"

Ben seemed to know what he was trying to ask, because he glanced over his shoulder toward the bank where they could just make out the backs of three men on their knees, bent forward.

"Got his arms," one said, and he recognized the voice of one of the newer wranglers.

"Okay, easy," that was Curly. "Watch that right arm - and don't get too close to the edge - that bank ain't any too steady."

"All right - got his legs." Sounded like Clyde this time.

"Think I can get my hands under his back. Lordy, he's like ice." Deever.

"Just go slow. He don't need to drop down this bank twice today."

A dark bundle appeared balanced between them, just above the bank, and they stood in careful unison and backed away.

Joe jumped to his feet to run over and see for himself - or meant to. To his surprise, he found he was still sitting in the same spot, his legs shaky and lead-like. Ben stood and turned in one quick motion, not noticing that Joe wasn't behind him. Joe felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and twisted his head to follow it up to a face.

Frank returned his look with an understanding grin. "Muscles just won't cooperate right away, huh?" Joe shook his head, his eyes seeking out the huddled shapes a few yards away. "We'll get you up and walking back to the house in a bit - it'll help a lot." He followed Joe's gaze. "We'll get him back, too."

Curly's voice drifted up from the creek bed. "Hey, somebody want ta haul ME up now?"

Joe and Frank looked at each other and laughed in spite of themselves.

"Comin' Curly, keep yer shirt on." Deever called, leaving the indistinct circle of shadows and striding toward the bank.

"Yeah, keep it on, Curly," another voice added. "I've seen ya without it. Believe me, it's better that way!" A chorus of chuckles greeted this sally.

"Very funny." Curly dragged himself back on the bank edge, pulling the rope off over his head and straightening his jacket. "Few of you witty boys think you can stop crackin' jokes long enough to put together some kind o' stretcher fer Adam?"

Two more shadows peeled away from the huddle and came to join him. He pointed them to what was left of the blankets and walked over to where Ben and Clyde remained bent over Adam's prone form and crouched down next to them.

"Think we oughta try cuttin' that jacket off'n his arm first? Cain't be doin' him no good."

Clyde studied it without touching. "Maybe cut around the sleeve. Don't wanna touch that sleeve till we got more light to work by - no tellin' how bad it's broke." He glanced at Ben for his thoughts, but Ben didn't seem to hear, intent on stroking the damp hair away from Adam's face.

Clyde and Curly exchanged a speaking glance, and Clyde pulled his knife out of his boot. "I'll cut the jacket, anyway. Help keep 'em dry." He sawed briskly at the uncooperative fabric, trying not to jostle the arm, pausing with his hand on Adam's bicep to give a low whistle. "Just get a load o' how rigid that muscle is. Better go check on yer stretcher boys - even this little bit a wind is stealing heat from 'em, an' he cain't afford it. Needs ta be inside." He slashed away the last of the jacket, throwing it aside, and folded the blankets back over him.

"Right." Curly lumbered to his feet. "Mr. Cartwright, I'm just gonna go over there, check an see if them boys got that stretcher ready…if you'll just stick here with him in just another minute we're gonna be movin' him out, okay?" Ben didn't give any indication he had heard, and Curly and Clyde exchanged another uncomfortable glance. "All right, sir. We'll be back in just a minute."

"I'll go with you - see if we cain't hurry things along." Clyde stood, dusting his hands on his pants and studying Ben thoughtfully.

Curly raised his brows at him in silent question, and he shrugged in return and followed.

"All right, so what you boys doin' over here - havin' a slow contest?"

The hands looked up from their handiwork.

"No," returned Deever with some asperity, "but you shoulda knowed most o' the wood out this way was too soft ta make good stretcher poles - shoulda brought somethin' with us."

Curly rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, the supply shed is just a bit from here - you think of goin' there for them poles we use in winter ta check snow banks fer cows?" There was a brief silence, and Curly shook his head. "Lucky thing nobody pays you fellas fer yer thinkin'. You - go to the shed. Deever, you go with him. See if you cain't show me a little speed here. Now, where'd Joe get off to?"

"Frank's keepin' an eye on him."

"Good." Curly half-turned. "Mr. Cartwright, we'll be just another minute here - somebody went fer the doc?"

"Lem set out - he's quick."

"Good. Mr. Cartwright - " he stopped, his mouth dropping open. "Mr. Cartwright - what the blazes you think yer doin'?"

Heedless of the conversation going on nearby, Ben had wrapped the blankets tightly around Adam and gathered him into his arms like a child.

"Mr. Cartwright, you cain't carry him!" The look Ben gave him was withering even in the uncertain light and froze Curly for a moment, but as Ben started to walk away he came to himself and took a determined step after him. "Mr. Cartwright - "

Clyde's hand on his arm stopped him. "Leave him go."

Curly yanked his arm away. "Are you crazy? That boy ain't no sack of feathers, and Mr. Cartwright ain't as young as he was, no matter what he thinks!"

Clyde watched the broad retreating back for a moment, then he reached down and grasped a lantern handle. "You clean up here. I'll walk with him."

Curly shook his head. "Well, that's just fine. He ain't in bad enough shape? What if he drops him?"

Clyde gave his arm an absent-minded pat, his face pensive.

"He won't drop him," he said at last with quiet certainty. "See ya at the house."

End of Chapter 2

TBC

There you go, Tauna and drmweaver! Not that we're out of the woods yet!