3
The boy turned to run, then set down the bucket, then ran off the pier, tearing around the side of the tavern and toward the stockyards. Ben was trembling as he stalked toward the back door of the tavern. He found a narrow hallway just inside and a steep set of stairs to the left, leading up to the rooms. From where he stood the noise of the tavern was muted and he could hear a high pitched voice shouting angrily in spurts.
The voice was complaining about the boy not returning and berating the efficiency of the men.
"Five of you, two of them, and you look like you've been attacked by the whole Navy."
"You didn't tell us about the big one, Jamie! He went nuts on us!" A different voice shouted.
"Yeah." Another said, his voice pained. "It took three of us just to get him to stand still, and this little one took the other two."
Ben crept up the stairs, a step at a time, cautious to settle his weight without making a sound.
"You're lucky the old man wasn't there."
"It ain't luck. It's smarts. Planning. Dummies."
"Planning, huh? How can you be so smart about planning, and not know we was takin' on a mad bull!?"
"Shut up."
"What's your big plan now, Mr. Planner?"
"Where the hell is that kid?"
"I said-"
"I heard what you said. You aren't paid to know. Shut your yap."
"I'm leavin'."
"No you ain't."
There was a brief scuffle in the room that ended with a body flying against the wall that met with the stairs. Ben rushed up the last few steps and barreled through the first door he came to. The room he entered was dark and empty, but the noise had drawn the attention of the men next door.
"What was that?"
"Check it out, you dummies."
Ben went to the door and shut it, freezing by the jamb and pulling his gun.
He heard the door next to him creak open and ran to the wall that both rooms shared. He grabbed the head of the single bed in the room and banged it rhythmically against the wall, moaning grotesquely until he heard a chuckle come from the hallway.
He kept the noise up until the door closed, doing his best to sound 'satisfied' before he let go of the bed. He heard laughter from inside the room and felt himself breathing again.
When he was certain the hallway was empty again, Ben eased out of the empty room.
"One of you go out and check up on that kid. I want to know what's keepin' him."
"He's tired of your mouth, Jamie, that's what's keeping him."
Ben heard heavy steps crossing the floor in an odd rhythm. "I told you to shut your yap."
"Yeah, cripple? Show me what you're gonna do about it?"
Ben heard the click-click of a hammer going back. "Go ahead and try it, kid. You'll be down a man and have a murder hangin' over your head, even it if it is of a no-account like me, it'll still get you jail time."
"That's only if they find your body."
"What makes you think they won't?"
"The ocean's right there, stupid. All I gotta do is throw you off that pier."
"How you gonna get me there?"
"You're gonna walk."
"I ain't movin' one step-"
"Will you two quit that yammering? That big ape nearly stove my head in."
"What is the plan, Jamie?"
"The plan is to sit down, shut up and let me worry about the plan."
Then Ben heard Elizabeth cry.
"Somebody shut her up."
"Jojo! Jojo! Papa, papa!"
"Wake him up and make him stop her noise." Jamie's voice said.
Ben heard low grumbles of disagreement and edged to the opposite side of the hallway planting himself across from the door. He waited, listening to the struggle that he hoped Joe would put up. If he was awake. If he was able.
Even outnumbered, he knew Joe's temper. When the fight didn't come, Ben sagged a little against the wall.
"Hey..hey, stupid. Get up."
"Maybe he's dead."
"He ain't dead, he's breathin'."
"Hey...you deaf, or something?"
"Maybe you knocked him too hard over the head, Billy."
"I didn't hit him that hard. Hey...pretty boy!"
Then Ben heard the fight. He hesitated only a second before he rammed through the door and this time was greeted by a room crammed full of bodies.
Ben grabbed the first body he could and used his momentum to push him toward the window that was placed directly across from the door. The glass gave and the body went flying, screaming as it fell until Ben heard a thud and a splash. Ben turned, his gun up, desperately scanning the room for blue and green. He saw guns coming up and couldn't yet see his daughter. He screamed, "Hold it!"
He threw his empty hand into the air and spread his feet in case anyone tried to push him out the same window. Joe was to his right, holding what looked like a seventeen-year-old kid in a chokehold. The boy had his hands up, trying to drag Joe's arm away from his throat and he could see that his son had already pulled the boy's gun. He caught sight of blue and ruffles behind Joe's legs, saw the canvas of a cot, turned on it's side. Ben backed toward his son.
Joe shifted so that Ben could get to the cot. He heard Elizabeth screaming his name long before he saw her face.
She was dirty, face streaked with tears, but she was whole and appeared unharmed. She was standing behind the fence of the cot, arms reaching up for him, wailing piteously. Ben reached one hand down, picked Elizabeth up under her armpit and shifted her quickly to his hip, his gun pointed out at all times.
He swept Elizabeth around so that she was pressed to his belly and stepped in behind Joe, sandwiching his daughter between their two bodies. Joe kept hold of the boy in front of him and they moved wordlessly to the door, Ben sweeping the muzzle of his gun to direct the other men.
Most of them looked like they had lost a fight with a mountain.
Before they left the room Ben said, "If I see so much as your toes sticking out of this door before we're clear of the hallway, I will shoot them off."
Joe dug the muzzle of the gun deep into the back of the man he was using as a shield, pushed the man forward and used his boot to shove him back into the room before slamming the door closed. Ben holstered his gun, held his daughter close, and they both stormed down the stairs and through the dark streets. Ben led them in a zig zag pattern up alleys, down cross streets, and across boardwalks until he found a club that he recognized, and had attended before. It was one of many cattleman's clubs in San Francisco, and despite his appearance, Ben was recognized immediately by the concierge.
Ben explained as quickly as he could that they needed food, water, a room for the night, and a runner to come to his room immediately.
"I should think your boy needs a doctor." The concierge said, not too pleased with the dirt Ben had smeared on his face. "And a bath."
"That too, if you can find one. Thank you."
They were led to a room that Ben knew he could easily charge to his credit account. When they were inside Joe lit the lamp and Ben finally got a good look at him. Joe had a black eye, a bruise forming on his jaw, and his clothes were torn. He also noticed the smile on his boy's face, born of relief, and Ben held his two youngest children for a moment, struggling not to break down then and there.
"Are you alright?"
Ben watched one of Joe's hands go to his chest, but his boy was nodding. "I'm pretty beat up, but I'm ok. What about Hoss?"
"He's being looked after. I got a doctor for him before I left the hotel, and he came around ok."
Ben pried Elizabeth's fingers from his coat, jerked the filthy thing off, then yanked the watch cap off, all while still holding Elizabeth. He set her down on the bed, but kept his hands on her. He knelt and looked her over from head to toe, gently brushing his hands over her arms and legs and belly to make sure nothing was broken. He found bruises, but no blood, and no swelling.
Meanwhile Elizabeth was tugging at the dirt in Ben's beard, crushing it in her fingers and smearing it against her dress. "Dirt, Papa, dirt." She told him, as if the recent trauma had rolled off her back. A second later he heard her gasp, spinning her head hard and crying, "Jojo!" When she saw him she reached for him, crawling across the bed until he sat down. Once she was sure that her Jojo was there, she crawled back to Ben.
That simple act...the awareness. That Elizabeth had stopped her exploration to make sure her older brother was there, that was what broke Ben. He got to his feet, sat on the bed, collected his daughter into his arms, and wept quietly.
Joe went to the door to collect the things that were being brought for them, only softly calling Ben's name when the runner had appeared at the door.
Ben took the paper, pen and ink the boy brought, wrote a series of notes to various places in town, and sent the boy on his way, gradually pulling himself back together.
With Elizabeth tucked against his side Ben used the medical supplies to clean the wounds on his youngest boy's face. He made Joe take his coat and shirt off and checked the bruising on his ribs, pleased to see that they were minimal. Joe had a bruise on his back that concerned Ben. Something to ask the doctor about. Clean towels and robes had been brought up for Ben and Joe, and one of the runners had been sent to the hotel to see where Hoss was, and ask that he, and their luggage, be brought to the cattleman's club.
The beauty of the club was that it wasn't a public location. The concierge and the men the club hired to keep the riffraff out would do a better job than the hotel had done, at protecting Ben's family. Men in the same business as Ben, men that had great respect for him, would also frequent this club, and the brotherhood they formed, though not always pure of heart, would at least be a great deal more loyal.
Ben sent Joe to bathe, tucking his exhausted daughter into the bed. He sang quietly to her until she was asleep, then had Joe lay down beside her when he returned, sore, stiff, but clean.
Hoss arrived with the help of the doctor, limping into the room and taking a seat in the overstuffed chair in the corner. Ben moved the footstool close to him, woke Joe, then asked the doctor to look his son and daughter over before he was paid.
Their bags came up an hour later. Ben asked the patient bellboy to draw up a second bath and he bathed his sleepy daughter, put her in her night clothes and tucked her back into bed. Only after he was certain that his children were safe and asleep, did Ben bathe himself. He did so as quickly as he could, changed, and returned to the room where he slept in a cot, pressed up against the door.