The ropes fell free and Adam caught Joe as he tilted forward, gently lowering his brother in his arms. "Joe? Little Joe?" He shook Joe gently. "Come on, brother, you've got to wake up."
Joe's skin felt clammy and cold. Adam felt for a pulse at Joe's wrist, then neck, and finally put his ear to his brother's chest. Not a single heartbeat could be heard.
Ben walked up with Sheriff Asner in tow.
"He's not breathing, Pa!" Adam shouted frantically.
"Yes, I know. He's dead, Adam," Ben said tonelessly. Crouching in front of Adam, Ben stared hard at his eldest with an anger Adam had never seen directed at him before. "You are the oldest, Adam. I trusted you to look after your youngest brother. I'm sorry that trust was misplaced."
Stunned, Adam gaped openly at his father. It was as if his very soul was being sucked out of his chest leaving him physically cold and utterly alone. He reached across Joe's still body for his father's arm, "Pa. . ." Abruptly, a handcuff was fastened to his outstretched wrist, yet Adam made no move to fight Asner while his hands were bound behind his back. Heavy charcoal gray fog began to roll in, obscuring everything within a few feet of them. Even the fire was reduced to a strange, red orange glow.
Adam was still staring at his father bending over Joe when Paul Martin appeared out of the haze. "Ben, let me in there!" he said urgently, pushing Ben aside. Pulling the stethoscope out of his bag, he began to check Joe over.
"It's no use, Paul. He . . I killed him," Adam finished quietly, his head bowed as he sat back, legs folded underneath him. Knowing the punishment could never fit his crime, he remained in his knelt position, hands shackled behind his back, the epitome of abject misery. Silent tears wound their way through the blood and dirt on Adam's face to fall in the dust before him.
Doc Martin finished his evaluation and snapped his bag shut. "There's nothing I can do, Ben," he said softly. "It's up to him now."
Adam's head shot up and he looked Joe over, then looked at the doctor. Was it possible Joe was still alive? Searching his face, Adam was struck by the intensity and clarity of Paul's gaze. He tilted his head to the side as Paul reached forward and gently slapped his cheek.
"Adam? Can you hear me?" he asked.
That was a strange question, of course he could. Without warning, the shackles fell away, the fog dissipated, and Joe and his father were gone.
"Adam, open your eyes son," Ben's worried voice rumbled near his ear.
Wait, Pa was still here? Slowly, Adam opened his eyes. Ben was leaning over him, worry etched in his face. Paul was also there, his stethoscope around his neck, medical bag on the ground nearby.
Unable to meet Ben's gaze, Adam looked up at the canvas overhead. "I'm sorry, Pa. I failed you," he whispered brokenly.
"Adam? Adam, son, look at me," Ben commanded. Adam reluctantly shifted to look at his father. Ben's heart was troubled by the sorrow and guilt that had replaced the spark of life in his son's eyes. "You have not failed me, son."
Adam shook his head. "Joe is dead because of me."
Ben jerked back in surprise. "Son, Joe is just fine."
Adam felt his right hand gripped tightly between two slim strong ones. "I'm not going anywhere, Adam." Snapping his head to the right, Adam stared at his youngest brother sitting beside him. It couldn't be! But there he was, face bruised, eye swollen, curly hair unruly as ever. Adam rubbed hard at his eyes with his left hand. "Joe, are you ok?" he asked hesitantly.
Joe smiled. "I'm alright, Adam, thanks to you." Ben tapped Paul on the shoulder and they slipped noiselessly away.
"Joe, I'm sorry," Adam apologized. "This, this shouldn't have happened."
"Adam, listen to me. You can't keep blaming yourself," Joe started heatedly. Seeing Adam's gaze move away, Joe realized he would have to appeal to Adam's practicality if he was to get through. Taking a deep breath he continued. "Adam, how did Red get in the house?"
"What?" Adam looked mildly confused.
"Just answer me," Joe insisted.
"The window behind the table," he recalled from an earlier conversation with the Sheriff.
"Did you open the window for them?"
"Joe, you know full well I didn't," Adam replied, wondering what Joe was up to.
"Was it dark inside when you got home?"
Adam was irritated. "Joe, what's this all about?"
Joe held up a hand. "You'll see. Was it dark inside the house when you got home?"
"Nearly so," Adam pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Then they broke into our house, hid in a dark room, Red was holding a gun on you and instead of giving up you fought him, correct?"
"Yes," Adam sighed heavily.
Joe noticed the weariness in Adam's voice and he quickly continued. "You could have been shot. They pistol whipped you, kept you from fighting because they threatened to shoot me, correct?"
Adam nodded.
"Even though you were tied up, you still were protecting me by not giving them a reason to shoot." Adam stared at Joe, searching his face for any sign of reproach but found only gratitude and concern.
Joe went on. "You continued to protect me by not fighting them at every turn, by waiting until we had a chance to make our play." At this, Adam shifted restlessly, knowing what had happened next. Joe waited patiently until Adam looked at him again. "Adam, I thought it over all that afternoon. If we both tried it, they'd have shot us out of our saddles."
Reluctantly, Adam nodded. "You're probably right."
Taking a deep breath, Joe said quietly, "And if I had gotten away, there's a good chance. . .you were in bad shape, Adam. A few more blows to the head . . . ." Joe couldn't finish the sentence. Head bowed, he took a shaky breath. "I'm only here because of you. I knew you would find Pa, knew you'd come back for me."
"But you could have been killed because I was too slow!" Adam protested, agitated that Joe was making him sound like a hero when in fact, his brother had been beaten mercilessly.
Eyes blazing, Joe reached forward and firmly gripped Adam's shoulders, his face inches away. "Adam Cartwright you listen to me! You are not to blame for the criminal actions of a couple of outlaws. If you do they'll continue to hold you hostage. We fought them together, otherwise, neither of us would be here. We are brothers, Adam," he said fiercely, "brothers, no matter what happens. No one can ever take that from us."
As Adam stared at Joe, he felt a crushing burden lifted from his shoulders. Struggling to sit up, he embraced his younger brother tightly. "Thank you, Joe," he whispered.
After a long moment, Joe let go of his older brother and reached out to prop up the pillows, helping Adam settle back.
"Now ain't that a purty sight?" Hoss spoke from the entrance, grinning widely. "You two getting along!"
"I was just helping older brother here see the error of his ways," Joe replied lightly.
Adam smiled. "For once, Joe is correct. I'm sorry, Hoss," he apologized. "You were right yesterday about the whole situation being out of my control, I just wasn't ready to see that."
Hoss walked forward and crouched next to Adam's bedroll. "It's ok, Adam," he said. Leaning forward, Hoss reached out to check Adam's forehead. He turned to Joe. "Little Joe, I think we oughta get Doc Martin back in here. That's two times in five minutes he's said we're right. I think he might still be sick!"
Joe rubbed his neck. "Yeah, Hoss, you might also check to make sure the sky isn't falling," he said in mock seriousness. Suddenly Joe yelped and toppled over backwards as a pillow hit him square in the face.
"Maybe he's not as sick as we thought," Hoss chuckled, snagging the pillow and putting it back into place.
Just then, Ben entered the tent with a cup of broth, smiling from ear to ear. There before him, his three grown sons were laughing and grinning, acting like schoolchildren rather than adults. It was hard to suppress a laugh himself as they caught sight of him and three identically guilty looks passed over their faces.
"Well, it's nice to see you three getting along," Ben said moving to sit in Hoss's previous spot. "Doc Martin said you should try and eat something, Adam, so I brought in some broth for you. Think you can try a little?"
"Sure, Pa," Adam said.
"What about me, Pa?" Joe piped up with sad eyes. "I-I'm kinda hungry too."
"You and Hoss can go to the fire like everyone else."
"Yeah, c'mon brother, let's go before there's nothing left," Hoss said eagerly, practically lifting Joe to his feet. Together they hurried out to see what the cook had prepared.
Ben chuckled, tucking a napkin into Adam's shirt. "Can you manage on your own?" he asked.
"I think so," Adam began to sip his broth.
Ben looked down for a moment. "Adam, you know this wasn't your fault?"
"I know, Pa, Hoss and Joe both helped me see that." Adam smiled, his gaze wandering to the tent entrance. "They just wouldn't leave it alone until they were sure I was ok. They're quite a pair, aren't they?"
Ben's chest burst with pride for his boys. "We're family, Adam. That's how it works."
Adam took another swallow. "Where's Paul?"
"Sleeping. I had a couple of the hands set up another shelter for him. He was pretty worn out from that long ride, we're fortunate he was able to come." Ben sighed, taking the empty cup from Adam. "Now, young man, it's time for you to get some sleep! After Paul's rested, we'll see about heading back home."