Joe returned to the ranch in a chastened state of mind. As much as he had been seething, longing to question the Fairchilds further, his visit to Sylvester to make final arrangements had made him feel increasingly that Roy was right - he was needed at home. Pa needed him and Hoss shouldn't be trying to look after Pa by himself.

He dismounted in the front yard, trying not to look at the burnt out shell that had been their barn. The house looked dark - Hoss must still be in the old carriage house with Pa. It would make a decent place to house Cochise for the night, anyway. He started for the carriage house, pulling Cochise behind him. He heard a soft nicker as he approached the door and peered through the darkness to look. His heart turned over. Sport.

He reached out a shaky hand and stroked the soft muzzle. Sport dug his nose into his palm, looking for treats - or maybe just comfort. Joe patted his cheek. "I know, boy," he whispered softly. "I miss him, too. But somebody took good care of you, huh? Hoss, I'll bet. Well, that's what he would have wanted…" He felt the tears rise in his throat again and swallowed stubbornly. "Know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna leave Cochise right here to keep you company." He patted Cochise lightly. "I'll be back to clean you up, girl - gotta see to Hoss and Pa first."

He gave both horses a final pat, pleased to see them nudging noses inquisitively, and pushed back the door to the carriage house. The interior was dimly lit by a lantern turned low, and in the dusky shadows he could see the wagon that held Adam's body and the massive silhouette that was his brother Hoss, leaning back on a bench with his legs stretched out in front of him.

"Hoss?" he called softly.

He saw Hoss's head jerk up. "Ssshh…" He pointed to a figure he had missed earlier, slumped against the side of the wagon.

Joe frowned. "What's - oh, Hoss - " he was appalled. "He shouldn't be tryin' to sleep out here in the cold with a dead body - let's get him inside."

"Leave him be, Joe." Hoss's voice sounded flat and tired.

"But - " Joe sputtered.

"I said, leave it. It's where he wants to be. Let him be here."

Joe opened his mouth to protest again, but closed it abruptly. After a second he nodded, dropping down beside Hoss. He didn't feel any real desire to be anywhere else himself.

"You find out anythin' in town?"

"Sort of," Joe rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Found Adam's watch."

"Huh," he heard Hoss shift next to him. "That's good. Pa'll like ta have that. Not now, mebbe - but by and by."

Joe noticed he didn't ask what Adam's watch was doing in town and tried to see his face better in the dimness. "How are you doin'?"

"Me?" Hoss's voice sounded unutterably weary. "Danged if I know."

"Yeah." Joe leaned back and felt his back crack. "I know what you mean."

"It's funny, Joe…" Hoss turned toward him, and Joe could half make out his face in the shadows. "Ain't a minute o' my life I ain't knowed Adam. I mean, he's always been there fer me - it's one o' them things I always been able ta count on. Even when he was in Boston, so far away, I figgered if I ever needed him, somehow he'd be here - swimmin' the Ohio if he had to, but somehow or other, I knew he'd always find a way ta be here fer me." He sighed. "Sounds sorta crazy, I guess."

"No," Joe shook his head in the darkness. "No it doesn't. Sounds right. True."

"An I reckon I always had this idee - that - well - if anythin' ever happened ta him, I'd know it - I'd know if he was dead er alive. An here I am, sittin' an' tryin' ta feel he's dead, an' you know what? I just cain't do it. Jest don't seem real somehow. Somehow I jest keep feelin' he's out there an' alive, if only I knew where ta look."

Joe swallowed quickly, putting his hand on Hoss's big knee. "I think maybe it's just the shock, Hoss," he said timidly.

Hoss nodded sadly. "Prob'ly." He let his large paw fall on top of Joe's. "Seems funny ta say, seein' as there ain't - " he paused, shut his eyes tight. " - weren't - " he corrected himself " - nothin' feminine about Adam, but - well - 'fore your Ma came around? He was about the closest thing I had to a Ma. Always looked out fer me."

Joe felt the tears rush to the surface again. Adam had always looked out for him, too, but he had had Hoss as well - two big brothers to look out for him. Not that one was any substitute for the other, but now Hoss had no big brother. The thought almost cracked his heart in two.

"I'll look out for you, Hoss," he offered in a small voice.

The hand tightened on his. "I know that, Shortshanks. Thanks."

They sat quietly together, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness.

Joe sniffed and reached up with his free hand to smudge the tears out of his eyes.

"He's really gone, Hoss," he whispered, as the truth seemed to finally sink in and stick. "Adam's gone. What are we gonna do?"

Hoss released Joe's hand and rubbed between his shoulder blades instead. "I don't know, brother," he answered softly. "I jest don't know."

Amelia pulled her horse up short in front of the Fairchild ranch, fuming with frustration. Nothing had gone exactly as planned - Duncan was still in jail and Joe Cartwright was looking at her as though he suspected something. Not that he could prove anything, of course - in fact, if she played her cards just right, she might even be able to come across as the innocent, tormented victim. That thought brought a smile to her face and she stepped up onto the front porch in a better frame of mind.

"David!" she called as she entered. Now, where had he gotten off to? Those brothers of hers were getting mighty hard to keep track of! "David?" She made her way from the main room into the kitchen, found David busy chewing an apple while uncorking a bottle of whiskey. She frowned at the whiskey. "Where did you put him?"

David swallowed the bite of apple, measuring his whiskey meticulously. "Get Duncan out?"

Amelia sighed in exasperation. "No, but probably tomorrow if we pay the fine. Didn't you hear me? I asked where you put him!"

"Oh," David shrugged, avoiding her eyes. "Root cellar, just like we said."

Amelia narrowed her gaze at him, then kicked away the rag rug that covered the root cellar door and pulled on the loop of rope that comprised the handle to open it. She peered downward into the darkness. "Didn't you leave him a lantern?"

"He's out cold - what's he need a lantern for?"

"In case he comes to! Really, David!" Going to the pantry, she pulled out a lantern and lit it. "I'm going down to look - and he'd better be okay!"

David sneered. "Oh, he's just fine. Don't know why you make such a fuss about him, 'Melia."

Amelia tossed him a cold look, then gathered her skirts around her knees and descended the ladder to the root cellar. David took another bite of his apple.

There was a pause, then a shriek. "David! What have you done!"

David grinned around the bite of apple and lowered himself into the root cellar in a leisurely fashion. "What? Just hung him up with the rest of the vegetables."

Amelia was standing, staring in horror at a row of hooks from which dangled neat groupings of dried onions, peppers, sausages, apples…and Adam. She jumped, trying futilely to reach the ropes that were looped around the hook thrust up between his bound hands. "You were supposed to put him on the pallet!" she sputtered. "Cut him down!"

David leaned against the wall. "Cut him down yourself, if you want it so bad. Just don't expect me to stand by to catch him. I've had my fill of carting him around for today."

"David!" Amelia studied Adam, biting her lip. Sagging in unconsciousness, the tips of his boots just brushed the ground. She hesitated. It would be a hard fall if she just plain cut the ropes. She noticed something else and frowned more deeply, lifting the lantern to study a darkening bruise on his left cheekbone. "And what's this? Did you hit him again?"

David took another bite of apple. "He was startin' to come round."

"Already? Why didn't you give him some of the drug, then?"

David shrugged. "Didn't know where you kept it."

Amelia ground her teeth. "It's in the pantry and you know it!"

"Huh." David's expression was indifferent, but his eyes glittered in the lantern light. "Guess I forgot."

Amelia cupped her hand under Adam's chin and lifted his head. His eyelashes flickered, but his eyes remained closed. She reached up to stroke the back of his neck and pulled her hand away in surprise. "And what's this?" she demanded after a second.

"What's what?" David managed to sound bored and amused at the same time.

"He's bleeding! What did you do to him?"

"Might have dropped him coming down the ladder. Told you he was heavy."

Amelia stuck her lip out, trying to assess the damage, her fingers finding a lump with a slash of broken skin over it under his hair on the back of his head. "You always did ruin all my nice things!" she wailed.

"Oh, don't be such a baby." David tossed the apple core away. "If you think a couple of bumps and bruises are gonna do him in, then you don't know much about him. I've seen him take more on a normal day on the range. That junk you keep spooning down him will kill him faster than a little tumble down a ladder."

Amelia glared at him. "Did you at least give him some water?"

"Hm," David looked thoughtful. "Now, I might've forgot that."

With a small cry of rage, Amelia tore off the bottom ruffle of her petticoat and dipped it in the water barrel in the corner. Returning to Adam, she carefully began to scrub the blood off of his neck, then pressed the wet cloth against the lump. He gasped a slight intake of breath, then a faint sigh, but didn't open his eyes. She re-wet the cloth, then held it against his bruised cheek for a minute. He mumbled softly. She couldn't make out the words, but the tone was thankful. She paused. That had never occurred to her - that Adam might be grateful for her succor. She stroked his face for a moment, enjoying the sand-papery feel of the beginnings of his beard against her fingers. David's small abuses might be a means to an end, if they made Adam grateful to her - created the bond with him she had always dreamed of having. She returned once more to the water barrel, this time lifting the wet cloth to Adam's lips. Even semi-conscious, he sucked at it, greedy for the bit of moisture - then he went limp again and was quiet.

Amelia stood in front of him, running her thumb along his jaw line. After a minute, she unbuttoned his shirt methodically and slid her hands over the silky curls that covered his chest.

"I guess it's all right," she said slowly, "As long as you're careful and don't go too far. I don't want you to mess him up. He's not one of those rabbits you used to catch in your traps and do things to when you were little, you know."

David grinned at her. "That's right," he said genially. "He's not. He's bigger."