The house was empty and the sun had saturated it by the time Adam woke up. He went out to the porch and sat with his eyes closed grateful that his lightheadedness had passed. He let the sun soak into him like bread soaking up melted butter and wondered briefly where everyone was.

"Adam?" Hoss called.

"Out here." Adam didn't open his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Hoss' voice came from right beside him.

"Better. Where are the others?"

"Joe and Abraham went to put Joe's name on the entry list instead of yours. I think they were also going to spread around that Minotaur's worn out from running so hard yesterday and probably won't run as well tomorrow."

Adam didn't think it would make a difference; they'd already attracted attention to themselves. Now they were just going to have to ride it out and hope they could handle it. Or rather, hope Joe could handle it. He would be alone out there once the race started. The thought made Adam's heart skip slightly.

Who's that?" he asked without opening his eyes as he heard hoof beats coming up the lane.

"A kind of heavy fellow. Sure is dressed nice."

Adam felt his heart stop, and he opened his eyes.

It can't be. His stopped heart sank down to the boards beneath his feet.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Adam?" Sam Bates called as he dismounted from his horse. Adam narrowed his eyes and felt Hoss stiffen in response to his defensive demeanor. For a moment he considered the merits of letting Hoss knock him around, but he knew that it would only land his brother in jail. He forced his hands to relax out of their rigid grip on the arms of his chair.

"What brings you here, Bates?" he asked.

"I like to keep track of my men."

"I repeat, what brings you here? I don't know of any of your men in the area."

Bates chuckled and walked up the porch steps. He glanced at Hoss. "Who's this?"

"My brother." Adam's watched Bates' reaction, but he only started briefly and then smoothed down his expression into neutrality.

"Imagine that." He said. "So I hear you had a little misfortune with Tom Finch."

Adam didn't reply and thankfully Hoss followed his lead, though Adam could sense him bristling like a porcupine. Inwardly he was itching to know how Bates had found out, but he didn't want to give Bates the satisfaction of him asking. Besides, he already had a guess.

Bates got tired of waiting for Adam to say something and continued. "I assume that you don't want your ranch back since you haven't given me the fifty thousand dollars?"

"You assumed wrong." Hoss growled.

"I'll give you the money." Adam added before Hoss got even more defensive.

"After you win it in the horse race?" Bates glanced at Adam's bandaged arm, and Adam settled back into his chair. He could play smug too; he'd learned it from the man in front of him.

"Apparently Carl didn't tell you everything." He said.

"Carl?"

"Finch's brother. He talked to you didn't he? That's how you knew where to find me."

"I didn't expect to find you alive either, after seeing how upset he was."

"Thanks for the warning."

"You've always been good at taking care of yourself, almost as good at it as you are at walking out. Which is what I wanted to make sure didn't happen this time."

Hoss stepped forward, having had enough of this man swaggering over his brother. "You'll get your money, Mr. Bates. And if you want to be around to spend it I suggest you leave."

Adam raised his eyebrows at Bates and watched the man shift as if wondering whether or not to call Hoss' bluff. Finally he turned and went back to his horse.

"Fifty thousand dollars, Adam." He said after mounting. "The day after tomorrow or you'll be hearing from my lawyers."

Hoss turned to Adam as Bates rode away. "Why didn't you just knock him over the head in the first place instead of getting into this mess?" he asked.

"I've been asking myself the same question for a while now." Adam grumbled. He inwardly cursed Carl for alerting Bates to their situation. That was all he needed, Bates leaning over his shoulder waiting for him to fail.

But they wouldn't fail, he told himself. Joe was a better rider than he was, and there was no chance of Minotaur losing. After the race he would give Bates his money and along with it the fist he'd owed him for a while now.

Hoof beats made Adam glance down the lane. He thought maybe Bates had come up with something really nasty to say, but the hoof beats he heard belonged to Abraham and Joe.

"You two sure look gloomy." Abraham called.

"We just had a visit from an old friend." Hoss answered.

Adam snorted at the word, and Abraham cocked his head. "Oh?" he asked.

"Sam Bates." Adam said. He noted Joe's instant clenching of his fists and wondered where this sudden hatred had come from. "He found out about our… predicament through Carl and came out to remind me that he still wants his money. He's giving us until after the race."

"Bastard." Joe muttered.

Adam glanced at Joe. "I always thought so, but when did you realize it?"

Instead of answering Joe turned and remounted his horse. "I'll be back."

"Joe…"

"I'm not going to do something stupid like kill him – though that might have simplified the situation. I just need to know something. I'll be back."

"Hoss…" Adam didn't need to finish his statement; Hoss was already halfway off the porch following his brother.

"Hey, Joe! Wait up!" Hoss swung up on Abraham's saddled horse and urged him into a lope after Joe. Joe held his horse back so Hoss could catch up.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing." Joe said. "I just need more answers." Questions fizzled and popped in his head as he rode, but thankfully Hoss was silent. He wouldn't have admitted it, but Joe was grateful for the company.

He could hear the fire again, crackling in rhythm with his horse's hoof beats and the screams. Joe closed his eyes and inhaled, breathing smoke in with the dust from the road.

"Pa! Pa!"

"Shut up, kid! I'm doing you a favor!"

He couldn't see a face, but he could hear the voice, as harsh as the hands that gripped him.

"Where's Pa? Mama!"

One of the hands let go of his body and clamped over his mouth. He kicked against the man holding him. Hot tears blurred his vision. He was on a horse. He kicked again and then bit the hand over his mouth. A curse and then a slap. He could feel his cheek stinging. Where was his Pa? Where were they going?

"Joe?"

Joe blinked. They were in Sacramento in front of the best hotel. Hoss was looking at him worriedly.

"Joe?" he asked again.

He needed to know why. Joe dismounted and then paused as Hoss moved to follow him.

"Do you mind staying down here?" he asked Hoss.

"Are you sure that's such a good thing?"

"Please, Hoss?"

Hoss studied his younger brother for a moment and then nodded. "Alright. But don't do anything stupid. I'm guessing a punch would land you in jail, and you have a race tomorrow."

"Don't worry. I just want to ask him something." Joe went inside the hotel and to the desk. "I'm looking for Sam Bates." He said to the clerk.

The clerk eyed Joe. "Is he expecting you?"

"Yes."

He hesitated for a moment longer and then pulled out the registry book. "Two-twelve. Second floor on, your right."

"Thanks." Joe followed the plush red carpet up the stairs and down the hall. His heartbeat quickened as he walked, and he forced his fist to remain loose and unclenched as he knocked.

A man opened the door. "Yes?"

"Are you Sam Bates?"

"Yes."

Joe inhaled as the sudden need to send his fist into the man's gut nearly overpowered him. "I need to speak with you."

Bates studied Joe for a moment, his eyes sweeping up and down the length of him. "I'm afraid I'm busy right now, and I don't usually cater to strangers who demand to have a word with me in a hostile manner."

Joe stepped forward. "We have a mutual friend, Mr. Bates. Adam Cartwright."

Bates' face revealed nothing about what was going on in his head, and Joe wondered if Adam had learned his facial control from this man. "And you have something to say to me that pertains to Mr. Cartwright?"

"Yes."

"Leave your gun outside."

"If I had been planning on killing you, I already would have." Joe said. He slid his gun out of its holster and tossed it on the ground. Then he stepped into the room and Bates shut the door behind him. For a moment Joe was silent, studying the man who had altered the course of his life by a slight wave of his soft, cushioned hand, which was now resting comfortably on the expensive fabric that covered the arm of his chair. Joe glanced about the room, noting the thick drapes, polished wood, and a bottle of fine wine that stood in a sharp contrast to the broken emptiness of the rough wooden shack he'd grown up in.

"So how do you know Adam?" Bates asked.

"He's my brother." Joe spat. Once again, Bates' face was emotionless. He calmed himself and continued, refusing to rise to this smug cat's game. "I didn't know he was my brother until a little while ago. Before then I was raised by another man. When I asked him about it, he said that I was entrusted to him by a man who was supposed to kill me. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Joe glared at Bates who was still as still as a lake in the summer. But Joe caught a faint twitch in his left cheek like a tiny ripple.

"Are you insinuating that I had something to do with that tragic story?" he asked, and suddenly Joe was reminded of a snake, cold and deadly, waiting for its chance to strike. But he wasn't backing down.

"I already know you do. I just want to know why."

"I'm afraid this interview is at an end."

"Not yet." Joe resisted grabbing the man by the collar. "Was it for the ranch? Then why are you offering it to Adam now?"

"You Cartwrights all seem to think a lot of your precious ranch, so much so that you don't realize you have a more valuable asset."

"What?"

"Yourselves." Bates sat back in his chair. "You remind me a lot of Adam at this age, all fire and snap. But you don't have that granite in you that he had. And that's what I liked in him. He was one who would stick through with something no matter what it cost him. It's what made him kill the man who shot your parents and what kept him working for me all those years, and it's what's keeping him going now, when everything is falling apart."

"Nothing's falling apart." Joe hissed.

"No? I suppose you're the one who's going to race. Well, you might come in third of fourth, but you won't win. As I said, you don't have the tenacity."

"I'll win." Joe said.

"Will you? From what I hear Mr. Hawkings only lets his horses win. I've already had a conversation with him and told him that it may benefit him even more if Abraham Rosner's horse loses."

"Why?"

"Adam was a good man. He ought to be; I made him into what he is, and I'd hate to lose him again. If he fails to pay then I'll have to arrange a work agreement in which he can compensate me through labor."

Joe felt a shudder ripple through him as he realized that Bates had raised the stakes. But there was something Bates didn't know. Joe drew himself up.

"You didn't make Adam into anything. He's a Cartwright, which means he's more than a low-down, yellow-bellied, dung-licking snake like you could ever understand. And he would never work for you again because you're not worth the dirt on his boots. He was alone the first time you got your claws into him, but he's got a family now, and I happen to be one of them. He would die before he'd work for you, but I would kill you first. Keep that in mind." Joe turned to leave and then stopped halfway through the door. "And I've got more granite in me than you do. At least I fight my own battles." He slammed the door.

"Well?" Hoss asked when Joe came out.

"Let's go." Joe mounted and shook his head. "I hate that man." He muttered.

Hoss rode in silence as he debated whether or not to say anything. Finally he gave in.

"What did you ask him, Joe?"

For a moment Hoss didn't think he was going to answer, but then Joe exhaled as if the weight of a hundred years was on his back.

"Before I came here I went back home. Well, not home, but where I grew up. I had to know what happened."

Hoss leaned forward in his saddle. "What?"

"We were both supposed to be killed. That's what Bates had told his men to do. But I guess they couldn't bring themselves to murder two kids." He shrugged. "I must've been this good looking even then." Instead of laughing at his own joke, he continued, "The one brought me to his sister, and she and her husband raised me as their own. All so Bates could use Adam for his dirty work. And now he's at it again."

"Again?"

"He's up to something. He said that if Adam doesn't pay up, he'll use a work contract."

"Adam would never."

"He might. He wants that ranch, Hoss. And he wouldn't have a choice; it's Bates' money."

"Reckon we'll have to be extra careful then." Hoss said. "What are you going to tell Adam?"

"Nothing." Joe decided. "He's already worried enough; if he thinks Bates is going to try something he may say that the race isn't worth it."

"Do you think he would?"

"How should I know?" Joe suddenly felt tired. Too many guesses, too much unpredictability. How could he know what Adam would or wouldn't do?

"You're getting yourself in pretty hot water." Hoss said. Maybe Joe could handle himself, and maybe be couldn't, but Hoss would make sure he didn't need to handle himself alone.