3
With Ben between them, the going was even slower. Adam's shoulders and arms burned, and the muscles in his back were frozen, not at the load but the position he was forced into at the head of the stretcher. Hoss kept his eyes on his father, watching his face grow more and more pale as they walked. Ben clung to one of the poles of the stretcher, his other hand bracing his ribs, each breath more painful than the last.
When they came to a rock slide, or a tree, or a gap in the road Adam and Hoss moved by inches instead of yards. At least once the obstruction had been so great that Ben was forced to stand, and lean on one of his boys to overcome it before gently laying back down on the stretcher. They walked for an hour and a half before Ben begged them to stop.
"Rest...rest boys. Please...rest."
Adam started counting, "Three, two, one." And on the count, as they had done before, Hoss and Adam gently lowered Ben to the ground. Adam was on his knees, his arms frozen slightly behind his back, too painful to try to bring forward.
Hoss went to him, one hand on Adam's chest, the other loosening the frozen muscles with his knuckles. "You gotta let me switch places with you, Adam." Hoss said quietly.
Adam didn't argue this time. They had no canteen, no water. The food Ben had gathered from the cabin had been placed in Sport's saddlebags when they'd first stumbled on the horses. They had nothing but the two blankets, the rifles and the clothes on their backs. That made for a short rest period.
Adam got in back, Hoss got in front, they lifted Ben on the three count and started forward again. And then Hoss froze.
Adam caught sight of what stood before Hoss, a huge, dark shape in the distance. "Set him down." Adam whispered, moving with Hoss until the stretcher was on the ground. Adam grabbed up the rifle, sliding it out from where it had been tucked into the stretcher with their father. Ben grabbed the stock before Adam could get the gun clear and grit his teeth.
"Don't…"
He couldn't hold the rifle for long and Adam eased it away from his father.
"Adam! You watched Joe hit it three times and it didn't blink." Hoss whispered harshly as Adam passed him, crouched low.
Adam moved out in front of Hoss and his father, putting 100 feet between them before he took a knee, braced his arm and sighted down the barrel. The spot between his shoulder blades began to burn like fury, but he held the position, waiting for the bear's head to swing between the crosshairs, aiming at the softest part of it's skull.
Despite the cold, despite the muscle fatigue, despite the darkness he took a deep breath, held it, and squeezed the trigger. The bear's head snapped to the side, the animal rearing up, then tumbling backward over itself and sprawling on the trail.
Adam panted, standing and starting toward the bear, even as he pumped a new round into the chamber. His steps slowed as he got closer to the animal, spotting the dark spots of blood on the snow. Then realizing that despite his surety that he had hit one of the animal's eyes, it was still breathing. He got within ten feet of the bear before it raised its head from the ground and shook it with a hard snuffling sound.
Adam skittered back and brought the rifle up to his shoulder again. He aimed and squeezed the trigger, the gun pointed right at one ragged ear, but the rifle jammed. Adam reversed it quickly and tried to bring the butt down on the animal's head, with as much force as he could muster. The blow would have killed a man but the beast moved at the right moment and took the strike on its shoulder, before it swung it's head and a paw and Adam went flying.
His back and shoulder hit a tree trunk before he fell on his side at the tree's base, the rifle under him. The bear was getting its legs under its belly, pushing up, stumbling and snuffling at the air. Adam tried to rise, but couldn't, and instead scrambled on his hands and knees into the open. The bear followed the sound, advancing at a slow, rolling gait until one paw landed on Adam's ankle, blinding him with pain. A second paw landed on his thigh, then the bear's jaw was open, blood rolling down it's muzzle, teeth bared to rip into Adam's middle.
Adam desperately tried to cock the gun again, then heard shot after shot coming from behind him. The bear grunted at each bullet that hit his hide, backing up a few inches until it had apparently had enough pain for one night. With a wet, guttural moan the bear tilted away from Adam and stumbled off the trail and into the woods, crashing and rolling down hill with a trail of blood marking his descent.
"Damn fool idjit...why didn't you shoot 'im again?" Hoss demanded, kneeling beside Adam.
Adam lifted the gun, the cocking lever frozen at half-action.
"Oh." Hoss said. "How bad you hurt?"
Adam shook his head against the snow before putting his hand up. Hoss took it, rose and brought Adam to his feet. His ankle burned and he could feel the warm wetness of blood, on the opposite leg his thigh probably had a few puncture marks. His shoulder and back, and side would be bruised but a deep breath told him his ribs were still whole.
"I know what to call that bear." Adam said.
"What?"
"Goliath."
"Who we gonna get to play David?" Hoss asked.
"You did pretty good for a start." Adam said, giving his brother a lopsided smirk before they turned to get the stretcher.
An hour later they had reached the base of the hill that would take them up to the main house. It was a mile long curved road that had been frequently repaired after gully washer rains washed the wagon ruts into trenches. They rarely used it these days, and Adam didn't remember the last time he'd been up the road on foot.
They rested before they began up the incline, but were dragging and heaving after a quarter mile. They set the eldest Cartwright down, Adam crawling onto his belly beside his father to look at the wound on his side, not willing to waste energy on kneeling.
"I...wanna know how that ol' Goliath...got to be so darn big." Hoss huffed.
A small rivulet of fresh blood trailed down Ben's side, surrounded by dried smears of blood covering most of his torso. He'd probably been bleeding a drop or two every time the stretcher swayed, or went up or down. Adam knew it couldn't be helped, but he felt guilty for it just the same. The eldest son rolled onto his back, groaning at how good it felt to force the muscles and bones straight.
"He's...had plenty of stray cattle to feed on...and anything else that wanders up. I couldn't see that much of him in the dark but...he had scars all over...patches of hair missing." Adam said, pushing up onto his elbows. He ran a hand down his pant leg and was pleased when it came away clean. The cloth of his pants had hardened with the dried and frozen blood but there was nothing new coming from the wounds.
Adam got to his hands and knees and crawled to the front of the stretcher. "Get in back."
Hoss shook his head. "Nah. I got it."
"Hoss...if we're gonna make it up this hill, I need you in back of me...pushing. Not in front of me...pulling."
Hoss gave him a dead tired smile and half of a laugh. "So I'm still doin' all the work. Just from behind."
"Makes me look more heroic." Adam said, winking.
Hoss carefully pushed himself upright then trudged to the back of the stretcher. They lifted together and continued on. One step, then another. If Adam or Hoss slipped they stopped and moved to a different part of the road where their boots had better traction, and on they would climb.
The curve in the road that rounded the side of the barn provided a handy spot for Hoss and Adam to lean for a long moment. Ben, who had managed to pass out for a time, came around at the stop in motion and Hoss told him. "We're home, Pa. We made it."
They rounded the barn to find the house dark and silent. The main door was standing open, and no fires burned within. Adam tugged at the stretcher and they stumbled into the house. Without pausing Adam headed for the stairs and started up them. They adjusted their grips as they needed to, forcing already dead tired muscles to do twice the work until they walked into their father's bedroom and set him down in his own bed.
"You think...Joe made it?" Hoss asked, frozen at the foot of Ben's bed, waiting for his muscles to allow him to straighten.
Adam leaned against the headboard, his fingers barely bending, untying the straps that had held the blanket to the poles. "Barn door was open...corrall was empty. He couldn't have made it to the house, then into town, and back again..not yet."
"I'll get the stove goin'." Hoss said, turning to the potbelly stove that stood in the corner of Ben's bedroom. In short order he had kindling catching light and split wood piled on top. A warm, red glow came from the grate and lit the room.
"We gotta get something hot into him. Get him...out of these clothes...make sure he's not hurt someplace else." Hoss said. "I can handle the kitchen chores if you do things up here."
Adam dragged his hat off his head and set it on the bedside table, then worked his own coat off. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, but he was too tired to put a finger on it. He nodded to Hoss before the big man left the room.
"Where's...where's your brother?"
Adam lifted his father's head and gently felt along the back of his scalp for blood or bumps. He untied the scarf that they had put around his neck and used the light from the stove to look for bruises or breaks along his collarbone, down his sternum. "He's downstairs, Pa."
"Your little brother." Ben insisted.
Adam pulled the gloves from Ben's hands, then started working one of his arms from the sleeves of the coat. He felt the muscles in his father's arms responding, retracting and bending the arm on his own. "Joe went into town. Went for the doctor."
"You need to go. Make sure he's ok."
Adam undid the buttons on Ben's shirt, then the buttons on the long underwear. He guided his father out of one side of the garments, looking over the damage the boulder had done. "I need to stay here with you. You're a hot mess."
Adam pushed to his feet, and circled the bed on knees that felt like china, hips that felt like rusted wheel bearings, ribs that felt like a washboard at a barn dance. He sat on the opposite side and went through the undressing routine again, covering his father in a quilt before finishing the job.
There were ugly bruises on his knees, a great welt on his hip that blended with the bruise around his ribs. Along with the fresh wounds were old ones. Old scars that Adam could name the cause of after a few minutes of thought. He had his own scars aplenty, but none as faded as his father's.
Ben had fallen asleep again, his breaths rapid and short. Adam covered him in every blanket he could find, struggling to keep himself from laying down on the floor by the stove and giving in to the weariness. He thought about taking his own boots off, but wasn't sure he would be able to walk without them. He paced to the door to keep from falling asleep near the bed and started down the hall as Hoss was heading up it. Hoss brought a tea pot and three cups with him, along with a bottle of whiskey tucked under his arm.
That was when Adam remembered what was bothering him.
"Where is Hop Sing?" He asked.
Hoss blinked a few times, then stepped past Adam into the room. He set the pot on the stove, poured two fingers of liquor into the cup, then filled it the rest of the way with the steaming hot tea. Both ingredients were stronger than usual, but Hoss figured they needed it that way.
"He wasn't down there." Hoss said, almost as an afterthought, before he sat on Ben's bed and gently shook his shoulder to wake him. They got their father to drink half the cup before he insisted that he could take no more.
Adam filled the remaining two cups with equal parts medicine and tea and brought a cup to Hoss before he sat down on the floor, his back against the side of Ben's bed. He felt the mattress of the bed shift, and heard the floorboards squeak as Hoss rounded the footboard and sat in the rocking chair by the stove.
Hoss drank and leaned his head back.
"What a night."
"Mm." Adam said, drinking the bitter, burning hot, glorious concoction. "It ain't over."
"No…" Hoss agreed, regretfully. "No it ain't."
"Pa asked about Joe."
"He'll be alright."
"Do you know how many times we could'a died tonight?" Adam drained his cup then stretched his arm out toward Hoss. His younger brother filled the cup from the rocking chair, adding the flavoring again before handing it back to Adam, then freshening his own cup.
"I find it..pessimistic to count such things, brother."
Adam opened his eyes and looked long and hard at Hoss before he found he had to agree. "More than was necessary."
"I'll drink to that." Hoss said, doing so. He leaned his head back and played his hand in front of the warmth from the stove, rocking gently. "Suppose Hop Sing mighta gone with Joseph into town?"
"Why?"
"Way we feel..Joe must'a been played out by the time he got here. Maybe he fell..hurt hisself. Couldn't ride into town on his own." Hoss said.
"Maybe Hop Sing left before Joe got here." Adam said. "Maybe he knows something about quakes that we don't know."
"Maybe."
"Adam…"
"Pa?"
Adam grit his teeth and pushed to his feet.
"Adam..where is Joseph?"
Adam sighed. "He's in town..he's getting the doc. You need to rest."
"No...no..you need to get him. You need to find him." Ben insisted, his eyes staring at the ceiling, tears pushing through the sweat and dirt on his face.
"Pa...we can't leave you here. We ain't got no horses...Adam and I...we can't hardly move."
"I need...I need my boys here." Ben said, sobbing softly. "Please.."
"Pa…" Adam licked his lips then glanced up to Hoss. "Joe is bringing Doc Wilson. When they get here they are going to put that rib back into place, and you're going to heal and-"
Ben's eyes closed tightly and he shook his head, his teeth gritted. "I'm dying, Adam." He whispered. "I need all my boys..here...before…" Ben's speech slowed and he had to focus on breathing. Adam watched the tears soaking into the pillow, rolling in a constant stream that he could do nothing to stop. "Please Adam...Hoss. Get your brother. Please."