This story seems to have a mind of its own - or maybe it's just that Joe keeps changing his. Thank you once again for your kind comments and helpful suggestions. I love hearing your thoughts.
Chapter Nine
"You need another day of resting!"
"Ain't got time for that just now. I'll keep it in mind for later though."
Paul shook his head in exasperation. His patient seemed intent on dressing and dragging himself across the road to his office as if he hadn't had a bullet dug out of him far too recently. The fact Roy was struggling with one of his boots almost made the doctor laugh at his friend, but he knew it would just encourage him.
"You do know you lost a whole lot of blood before I put a plug in you?"
"Yep. But you done a right good job with that plug and I don't leak no more." Roy smirked at his friend as he pulled his second boot on and stood up. He strapped on an empty holster as he continued on. "And I thank you for it. Now … I still got a job ta do."
"You let me know if any of those telegrams get an answer." Paul resigned himself to watching the sheriff head back to his duty.
"Course I will. The minute I know somethin', I'll let you know. And I really do thank you."
Roy patted the doctor's shoulder as he passed on his way out into the street. Instead of heading for his office, he made straight for the telegraph office. He knew his deputies would have brought in anything straight away, but he couldn't resist asking the telegrapher directly anyway.
"Nothin' comin' through, Roy. Ain't had any o' them sheriffs send word back about the boys."
Roy nodded solemnly and turned for the door without answering.
"But I'm guessin' the deputy told you ' bout them raids?'
"The Indians have been moving again. Yeah, he told me. Thanks."
The telegrapher watched as the sheriff made his way out the door once again. The whole town had heard the saga behind his injury and the blood-spattered cell that had held Ben Cartwright's youngest only hours before. Many of them had assumed the boys would turn up somewhere quickly, but the hours were turning into days and nobody had heard a thing.
As Roy continued across the street, he felt the odd weight of his holster against his leg. He couldn't be sure about it, but he hoped that Little Joe had picked up his gun from the floor before he'd run off. He knew the boy could shoot because despite his father's misgivings on the subject, he'd taught his boy to handle a gun. Roy knew it was a decision he'd made to pre-empt his son's curiosity and impetuous decision-making. He just prayed the boy would have no reason to draw it on anybody. Or worse still, that it would be used against him.
Sergeant Jackson knew his men were just as tired as he was. Bone weary didn't even begin to describe it. He'd lost count of how many days they'd been in the saddle and he'd pay a month's wages for something to eat other than trail tack. As he pulled his horse towards a copse of trees, he hoped he'd read the landscape right and there would be water flowing beneath them. He smelt the smoke before he saw any sign of a fire and he raised a hand to warn the men behind him. Each of them had weapons drawn as they rode down the hillside towards the creek.
Joe quickly filled the pot with water from the creek. He placed it on the ground beside him and reached into the sluggish stream to splash water across his face. He rubbed at his eyes and tried to wash away the feeling of grit that seemed permanently lodged there before he slowly stood up and turned back towards the camp. He yelped in surprise and dropped the coffee pot as three soldiers approached him from the treeline with their guns all pointed his way.
The memory of the soldiers and their Indian prisoner back in Virginia City did not ease his racing thoughts and he slowly raised his hands in the air.
"I'm just boilin' some water. I ain't done nothin' wrong."
The apparent leader of the trio nodded at him while simultaneously dropping his aim.
"What the hell happened to you, kid?"
The soldier edged closer while the other two made a cursory sweep of the area. He pointed towards Joe's face and frowned at him.
Joe chewed at his lip and tried to buy some time by stooping to pick up the coffee pot. He had no idea what soldiers were doing there and why they were so jumpy, but he'd heard Hoss talk of the Indian raids and it was making him jumpy.
"I'm on my way home…. fell off my horse and I think I broke my nose."
Jackson stepped closer and winced at the extent of the bruising across the kid's face. "I reckon you'd be right. Now, which way is home?"
"What?"
"Simple question, kid. Which way are you headin'? 'cause there's Indians in the area and you'll have worse than a broke nose if you run into them!"
Joe swallowed down the sense of panic that was rising and was trying to find an answer when he heard his name being called.
"Joe! Joe, where are you?"
The soldiers all turned in unison as another boy climbed over the embankment and stopped dead at the sight of them.
"Who's that?" Jackson thumbed towards the younger boy.
"My brother!" Joe had no idea why he answered that way, but he somehow figured it would be less suspicious than saying they were friends. "And we live just over that ridgeline. We're on our way home now."
Derek clambered down the embankment, unsure of what Joe was saying and why, but trusting the older boy anyway.
Sergeant Jackson pointed towards the hills. "Then I suggest you both forget boilin' that water and get on home as fast as you can. It ain't safe out here for travelers at the moment."
Joe nodded while silently pleading with Derek to keep quiet. "Sure thing. We'll get on our way real soon." He began to edge his way towards the younger boy as he spoke.
As the soldiers appeared to be leaving, Joe realised too late that they were signaling others to come and before long, a dozen horses and riders were making their way down to the water. He took advantage of their urgent need for water and he grabbed at Derek's collar and hauled him up the slope and out of sight.
"Joe, they can help Matthew." Derek was puffing as he ran to try to keep up with Joe, but he wanted to run back towards the men they'd just left behind.
"No, they can't! The army is like … well they're just like a sheriff. They gotta hold up the law the same way. We can't trust them."
"Can't trust them with what?"
The voice behind them startled both boys and they spun around to see one of the soldiers had followed them. Before either of them could think of anything to say, he had moved closer.
"You boys don't live over that ridgeline do you? What … you ran away from home?"
"No!" Joe positioned himself in front of Derek and the soldier almost smiled at the action. He would have done the same thing if it were his brother.
"Then what?"
Before Joe could stop him, Derek pushed himself forward. "My brother … he's real sick!"
The soldier looked at the two boys, not immediately understanding. Before he could answer, he heard a cough from further in the trees and without waiting to be asked, he made for the sound. What he found was certainly not what he'd expected.
The child lying bundled in a saddle blanket was coughing weakly. His skin was splotchy with a red rash and as Jackson reached out a hand, he felt the heat before his fingers made contact.
"Measles! How long's the kid been sick?" He looked up to see both brothers watching him intently. He couldn't fathom why they hadn't asked for help in the first place, but he'd deal with that question later.
"Coupla days."
Joe sidled closer while Derek crouched down beside his brother.
"I got a medic back there, but I don't expect there's much he can do."
Derek gulped like a dying fish and the soldier hastily backtracked. "Easy there, kid! I meant, measles just hasta run its course. He can't do much about it."
Neither Joe, nor Derek could stop the army sergeant from making abrupt decisions and ensuring his orders were carried out promptly. Matthew was barely aware as the medic checked him over and confirmed the diagnosis.
"Sarge, it's measles alright and the kid's real sick."
Joe and Derek waited as the two soldiers walked away from them, while glancing back towards them every so often. It was clear they were almost arguing and Joe felt Derek inch closer to him. Without really thinking about it, he stretched out his hand and grasped hold of the younger boy's hand. As he squeezed it, he looked down at tear-filled eyes.
"He's gonna be okay. I know it!" The words came out with the confident air of an older brother and Joe suddenly startled to realise his older brothers had reassured him plenty of times and maybe didn't feel quite so confident as they sounded. It was a sudden realisation that shook him badly as his brothers' words were something he counted on. Even when he was as mad as a cut snake, as Hoss would say, he counted on them both to tell him the truth. Joe swallowed a sob as he considered his brothers would never again trust his word. He had repaid them both so poorly and it felt like a physical kick to his stomach. As Derek clenched hold of his hand, he silently vowed to himself that at least the two younger boys could count on him to keep his word. "He's gonna be fine."
Eventually, Sergeant Jackson turned back to the boys and tried to find the words for what he was about to do. As an older brother, he could no sooner think of leaving his siblings to fend for themselves than fly. As an army sergeant, he had orders and those orders were urgent.
He pointed at Joe, since he was clearly the eldest of the three. "I wish I didn't have to do this, kid, but we got orders and … well in the army, we don't get to question them or ignore them. I gotta get my men to the fort by tomorrow and we're already half a day behind. Now …," he reached out to clamp a hand on Joe's shoulder and steered him away from the others. "I dunno what your story is, kid and I really am sorry, but I don't got the time to wait around and find out. Your little brother there is real sick. Which you already know. You need to get to the nearest town, which is Riversbend and get him to a doc. I dunno what you're runnin' from, but you gotta hear me on this, kid. My medic says it six o' one and half a dozen o' the other which way this thing is gonna go. You need to get that kid brother of yours to a doctor and right quick. You hear me?"
Joe nodded solemnly; acutely aware that the man's stare seemed to look right inside him.
"And while you're there, you can get the doc to check that your nose is okay. It looks straight enough, but we can't have your future romance potential ruined by it, now can we?" He tried to smile and saw the faintest flicker of a smile in response. "There you go! Now, there's one more thing. We've been chasing Indians half way across this territory. You need to keep your wits about you, boy. Keep a sharp eye. I wish we could be takin' you there ourselves, but it ain't possible. So we're gonna get you all on your horses and make sure you're headed in the right direction and then we've gotta get going."
Less than twenty minutes later, with military efficiency, the small camp was packed and the fire was doused. Matthew had barely grizzled through the whole deal and hardly stirred as Sergeant Jackson lifted him up to place him in front of Joe once again.
"Good luck!"
Joe waved as the riders kicked their horses into a gallop and took off towards the west. He felt his stomach clenching violently as he once again faced the trail north. He'd promised Derek that Matthew would be taken care of and older brothers didn't break promises.
Ben pulled his horse into the hitching rail and slid down from his horse. He felt numbed by so many hours in the saddle and he gripped onto his horse's saddle to steady himself.
"You alright, Pa?" Hoss looked across at his father as he seemed to waver on his feet.
"Fine."
Ben straightened up and nodded at his middle son. He knew they were just as tired as he was, but nothing would stop them until they found three young boys who had no business being out on the road alone. Paul's warning rang in his thoughts and he knew that if either of the boys had contracted the measles, they would all be in trouble.
"Hoss, you get our horses settled at the livery. Adam, you get us a room."
Neither of them needed to ask what their father would be doing. As he strode down the boardwalk to the sheriff's office, both brothers prayed this would be the one that had an answer for them.
Ben pushed open the sheriff's door and looked at the man who was propped up against the wall with his feet on the desk and his hat pulled low over his face. It was clear by the sound of snoring that he was deeply asleep and any other time he would have left the man to it and come back later. After all, he knew how often Roy Coffee would be out until all hours and an afternoon siesta was required to catch up. This was not any other time.
"Sheriff."
The man jolted upright and almost spilled from the chair.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, but I need to speak with you."
The sheriff pushed his hat back onto his head and nodded at the stranger in front of him. "Sorry, Mister. Been out chasin' cattle rustlers the last three nights and I guess it's caught up with me."
Ben smiled and nodded at the explanation. "I know how that feels. My name is Ben Cartwright and I just wanted to check if you've had any wires for me."
The sheriff jumped to his feet and looked faintly surprised. "Ben Cartwright? Well I never expected you'd actually turn up here! Ain't that one for the books? Not much o' nothin' reaches our little town."
The man suddenly realised he was rambling and he reached for a ledger on the desk. Underneath it was a folded piece of paper and he held it out to the man standing in front of him.
"If you're Ben Cartwright, then this is for you."
As he scanned the brief text from Roy Coffee, a slow smile began to spread across his face, followed quickly by a frown. Roy had been true to his word and wired every town between Virginia City and Sacramento. He had no idea how or why, but his boy was in Riversbend, which was well off the stagecoach route. Without the wire they could have ridden right past them and never known. Ben stuck out a hand to thank the sheriff before hastily making his way to the door.
"Thank you! This is the news I've been waiting for!"
The sheriff nodded at him as the man almost ran from his office. Whoever Joe was, Cartwright sure seemed eager to see him.
Hoss and Adam had barely begun their first taste of a beer when their father burst into the saloon, waving a piece of paper at them.
"We're not staying! Joe and the boys are in Riversbend."
For the first time in days both Adam and Hoss saw their father's face light up.
"You sure, Pa?' It wasn't that Hoss didn't trust his father, rather he'd been riding on fear for far too many miles.
"It seems somebody from Fort Churchill crossed paths with them who put two and two together. Roy said he'd wire every place he could think of and put out the alert for them. I guess he really did if he wired army posts as well."
"Makes sense since the army's been out in force up that way for weeks." The instant he opened his mouth, Adam wished he could swallow that last comment. None of them needed to be reminded that the boys had unwittingly ridden into dangerous territory.
Ben pointed to the door as his sons abandoned their drinks.
"Let's go get your brother, boys!"
As Joe pushed the two horses in the direction he'd been told, his mind was racing with worries. The law would be looking for two runaway slaves. Two brothers who would be dragged back to Virginia City and dumped right back into the nightmare they had escaped. If he was caught and proven to be aiding them, he'd be locked up again and would be no use to help them escape again. If the medic hadn't scared him so badly, they wouldn't be riding the way they were at all. Eventually he decided he'd figured out the best plan he could come up with to protect them all.
"I got an idea."
Derek was too tired to do much more than hold onto the reins and he was grateful that Joe's pony just followed his lead without much effort. He waited expectantly for Joe to continue.
