As Long As We Have Each Other
Lake Tahoe was elegant, a shining display of translucent beauty surrounded by the majestic mountains which kept the pristine water cold even during the heat of summer. Today was one of those days, blistering to both Little Joe Cartwright and his brother, Hoss. Together the men made their way down to the shore line to take their boat out for some much needed relaxation. The men tethered their horses, Little Joe's beloved pinto, Cochise and Hoss' much larger horse, Chubb on the branches of a tree. The horses would be content to munch on grass under the shade of the trees for the afternoon.
"Come on, Hoss, you're slow as molasses today," Joe called to his brother from the shore. Hoss flashed his brother a grin. Standing over 6'4 inches tall and weighing over 250#, the big friendly man moved fast when he wanted to. Today was a lazy day.
"Aint in no hurry Shortshanks," he called back to the younger man. "It's my day off. One of the most beautiful days I ever done seen too."
"Think so, Big Brother?" Joe teased. "Too bad Mary Ellen isn't here to go fishing with you instead of me."
"Too bad," Hoss laughed. "Picture that, a romantic afternoon spent in a boat with a gal I'd like to call my own. Aww, she wouldn't go out with me anyhow." Joe threw their fishing poles and the picnic basket in the wooden boat that the boys had built themselves with some extra reinforcement to hold when Hoss' weight was added to the equation. It was strong and sturdy having never let the boys down yet. They had spent many a fine afternoon over the past few years out on the lake, their time spent together precious and deeply treasured by the two brothers. They pushed the boat to the waters edge. Hoss got in first, and used his oar along with Joe's weight to get the boat further into the water until Joe could jump in and they were off.
"Hoss, you don't give yourself enough credit, that's what the problem is," Joe offered while they rowed themselves out towards the center of the shimmering water.
"Hey, Little Brother? Aint we had this conversation before? You know Mary Ellen is sweet on Dirk Benson, that hand from the Martin's place. They been going steady for a fair amount of time."
"I heard Mary Ellen was going to break it off," Joe hinted. Around the brothers, the further they got away from shore, the cooler the air became as the water surrounded them. Hoss was strong and the boat was in their favorite location, a half mile out from shore before they knew it. Hoss shook his head.
"Don't matter none...does it?"
"Course it does," Joe returned with his usual enthusiasm. "Now's your chance."
"Here's your pole, Little Joe," Hoss offered handing Joe the piece of fishing equipment. "Reckon I'll get this sqirmy little worm to be still so's I can get him hooked. Now, I don't want to talk about Mary Ellen. I wanted ta tell ya a secret. Adam's coming home!" Joe Cartwright had just thrown his baited fishing pole into the water when his green eyes flew to his brother with a silent question of disbelief. Hoss nodded with a solemn expression.
"Yep. Pa's going to be plumb tickled pink." Hoss's smile was a mile wide compared to Joe's hesitant appearance. Around them the wind was picking up and the clouds were setting in. Neither brother paid attention they were so wound up in each other.
"Suppose Pa will be real happy to have Adam home," Joe agreed with a sulky look towards the water. Hoss didn't miss his brother's reaction. His sigh was as heavy as the air around them.
"Joe, I don't understand you. Whatcha got against Adam coming home. He's your brother too!"
"Yeah, and he left. He left but good. Why even his letters been few and far between," Joe shot back.
"No reason to get upset iffn he's home."
"No, no I suppose not, Hoss." Silence fell over the men. Hoss dipped into the picnic basket taking out some of Hop Sing's cold friend chicken. Joe watched the big man eat, not hungry himself all of a sudden.
"Been through this so many times since Adam left in the first place, Hoss. Don't know why he had to go back East to live when he had everything a man could want right here."
"Joe, you aint never known anything but the Ponderosa," Hoss explained. "I tried to tell ya before. Part of Adam belongs here and part of him belongs in the East. It's that simple."
"Not to me," Joe returned.
"You and Adam are more alike than ya know, Shortshanks. Both a ya with hot tempers, and a stubborn cussedness that drives Pa ta distraction." Joe couldn't help grinning at Hoss' words. He supposed that his and Adam's endless fighting had driven his father crazy on more than one occasion. Joe knew he loved Adam, but it wasn't like him and Hoss. Hoss, well, Hoss was Hoss, his big brother, his best friend. Hoss looked up as the wind picked up. A fat raindrop hit the man in the face. Joe was suddenly pelted by the same drops. The two men had been taken by surprise. A storm was bearing down on them quickly, the water beneath them becoming rough, and the air going from warm to cold quickly as a front passed through.
"Get those poles in, Little Joe," Hoss ordered. "Let's get this contraption back to shore afore we're stuck out here or worse. Don't want Pa to have ta come out looking for us."
"He would too," Joe grinned, hiding his nervousness. The water was picking up quickly and it was cold, icy water that hadn't had a chance to warm up much from the spring thaws. Hoss and Joe rowed for all they were worth, but made little headway as the wind was against them. They were still a good distance from shore when water began to gather in the boat. Hoss kept on rowing while Joe tried to bale the water out with the pail they had brought their worms in. The wind rose steadily, the chilly rain coming down fast and furious as if it had a goal to accomplish. Joe's heart was cold with worry. He didn't like the way this was going. If they fell in, the water was cold as ice and he knew neither he nor Hoss would last long in the freezing lake.
"Row, Hoss, Faster," Little Joe cried.
"I'm doing the best I can Shortshanks," Hoss returned. Joe felt ashamed. Of course his brother was doing the best he could just as he was. The water came into the boat faster than the man could get it out. The boat tattered to and fro in the unsteady water until it just caved over throwing Hoss and Joe into the lake. Joe's sharp scream rang in the air before the current pulled him under. Ice seemed to surround Joe as his body hit the cold liquid. He never saw Hoss hit the water. All he felt was himself being chilled almost to the bone, and his hands flailing as they tried to find the surface. A feeling of abject terror struck him right in the gut.
"Hoss!" Joe's mind screamed. Stuck in the current's grasp, Joe's chest was tight, squeezing him as his oxygen deprived brain screamed for air. He knew he was losing his battle for life. With his limbs moving in slow motion, Joe tried once more to swim to the top, but he seemed to sink only deeper and deepr into the dark abyss of silence, the sounds of the storm left behind. Letting himself go, Joe was about to give into the surrounding peacefulness of the world around him when his body was suddenly pulled up ward and he found himself gasping for air.
"Joe!" Hoss' voice called in pure desperation. "Shortshanks!" Joe's body was hauled on top of the overturned boat that still floated on top of the water. Hoss hung on, his big body submerged in the icy waters. The wind and the rain continued as Hoss tried to push the boat towards shore. For several minutes, Little Joe was only aware of his desperate need to breathe. Hoss didn't say a word. Joe's body was flat against the boat. He didn't dare move for fear of falling back into the water. Heart hammering, he finally opened his green eyes to search for Hoss. His brother's large hand were holding onto the boat, dragging it down a little but making progress as he swam them all to safety.
"Hoss!" Joe breathed. "You saved me! I owe ya Big Brother." For a second Hoss' worried blue eyes met his little brother's. Joe was sick at the fear he saw there, fear Hoss was obviously feeling at nearly losing his little brother.
"Joe, aint never been so scared. Ya shouldn't play tricks like that on Ole Hoss."
"Sorry, Big Brother. The current got me," Joe answered, still taking in deep breaths.
"We gotta get back to shore. It's awful cold." For the first time, Joe was aware that Hoss's body remained submerged in the freezing lake. His heart picked up at a fast clip as he tried to figure out how to help his brother.
"I'll get down. We'll get the boat back to shore together," he suggested.
"Naw, not a good idea, Little Joe. I'll swim us both back. You just stay there and see if ya can see Pa anywhere's. He's bound ta come with help knowing we was out here."
"Hoss, it's too cold," Joe insisted. Hoss just kept paddling with his legs. Both men were shivering though Joe was getting a little warmer. Hoss had that look of determination that meant no one and nothing was going to stop the big man from doing what he knew he had to do.
"Hoss, you are more stubborn than Adam and me combined. You need to get out of the water," Joe scolded. "Pa will find us soon enough." Hoss' face didn't change expression. He just kept on swimming as he spoke in an exhausted voice.
"I'm too heavy, Joe. I'll pull ya under. Love ya too much for that." Joe's love for his brother was mixed with pride and pure anguish. Joe knew it was imperative for Hoss to get out of the water. The storm was lessening to Joe's relief when Hoss gave him one more look as his eyes went past Joe to the shore now only yards away.
"Just need ta...rest...You go on. You'll win through, Shortshanks." Hoss' lips were turning blue. He rested his head on the boat as Joe cried out.
"Hoss! You need to get up here," Reaching down, he grabbed his brother's shirt. In silence, the big man let go of the boat. His body weight pulled Joe into the water.
"Hoss!" Joe's horrified voice was lost in his roaring ears. In the water he didn't even feel the cold as he grabbed Hoss with both hands and pulled him to shore. The little brother's harshly beating heart kept him from realizing the truth for those few moments when the two of them were still in the water. Now it was Joe who was fighting for his brother's life, Joe who was terrified of losing Hoss. He used the water for leverage and pulled with superhuman strength till Hoss was safely on solid ground.
"Ya big galute," Little Joe scolded with tears slipping down his cheeks as he knelt down, catching his breath and talking at the same time. "We been through worse than this. Don't you give up now, Hoss. We'll both win through." Leaving Hoss on the wet ground, Joe stumbled over to Cochise and Chubb. Taking the bedrolls they usually kept on the horses, he grabbed the blankets, and ran back to Hoss. He fell to his knees again, but this time realized his loss. Hoss's motionless body, his silent chest and blue lips were silent testimony. It didn't matter what Joe did now. It was too late.
Little Joe grabbed Hoss' shirt trying to shake the big man back to life his hysteria rapidly turning to shock.
"Hoss? Hoss? Don't do this! Please God! Hoss, answer me!" Joe's scream echoed in the valley around him, hitting the mountains, hitting the trees, hitting everything but the brother who was already started on his journey towards heaven. Joe knew it was too late. Hoss was gone.
"Please, God," he begged in a vain prayer that seemed to slap him in the face. There would be no miracle, no second chance, and no hope in having Hoss sit up and call him Shortshanks ever again. Joe shook his head in denial. He wanted his brother. He needed his brother. There was so much he wanted to tell him, how he loved him, how happy and safe he felt with the bigger man, how he loved it when Hoss made him laugh, and how he thought of Hoss as his best friend, most of all how he wasn't ready to let him go. But there was no reason to speak, no reason to do anything now. Little Joe sat down, and then pulled Hoss's head into his lap. Looking down at the wide open eyes, the younger Cartwright didn't scream, didn't cry out, didn't do anything. He simply stared into the emptiness that was in Hoss' sightless gaze. He pulled the blankets to Hoss' chin, not concerned with the cold wetness of his own clothes. Looking up wards, he could see the sun coming out, peaking between the clouds. The storm was over. Bowing his head, Little Joe didn't move. A shroud of grief wrapped itself around Joe Cartwright, and then choked the spirit out of him, pulling him down as hard as any current, refusing to relinquish its hold...maybe forever.
II
Ben Cartwright sat by his youngest son's bedside. For almost a week, the patriarch had been fighting the angel of death for Little Joe's life. The father tried hard not to think of his second son buried already in a fresh grave next to his stepmother, the woman who had provided the boy with the only mother Hoss Cartwright had ever really known. Little Joe's precarious condition as he faltered between life and death dictated that Hoss' funeral was quick and rather scant, leaving little time for mourning, barely enough for acceptance of the facts. Ben was still feeling guilty, wishing over and over again that he had gone to the lake as soon as the storm was over. If he had...maybe, maybe he could have saved Hoss, and kept Little Joe from catching pneumonia. He was working in the barn, cleaning out the tack room for Joe when the storm hit along with a warning premonition. As usual, he thought he was being foolish. He continued working until his gut was making him wince in pain and fear. For a second he made to call for Adam, his eldest son. Remember Adam was living in Boston now, Ben called his foreman and two of his hands to ride out with him to look for his younger sons. Finding Joe and Hoss, finding his boys in such devastating circumstances was something Ben Cartwright would never forget, nor be able to truly accept without a great deal of prayer and faith. Hoss...Ben shook his son's face out of his mind as he placed a cool cloth on Joe's fevered brow, listening to the raspy breathing. If he thought of Hoss, Ben knew he would break down. Dr. Paul Martin, family physician and friend walked into the room. The doctor had come out from town daily to check on his patient. Ben heard his friend's footsteps a familiar sound now, one that the father was starting to dread as Joe's condition deteriorated in front of him.
"Ben? Ben, how are you doing? How's Joe today?" Paul asked putting his black bag on the desk next to Joe's bed. Ben stood, feeling the ache in his old bones and in his heart at the same time. Paul took his seat and examined Joe who slept in the half-stupor, half delirium brought on by his high fever. Ben ignored the doctor's question. How he was wasn't what was important. His son, his baby was who counted now. With clenched hands, the father waited. Paul listened to Joe's lungs, felt his temperature by placing his palms on the boy's cheeks and forehead and then he checked Joe's reflexes. When Paul finally stood up, he looked seriously into Ben's chocolate colored eyes. He shook his head sadly.
"What does that mean, Paul?" Ben begged, knowing what his friend would say. Ben had seen impending death too often to not recognize the signs. Still he refused to give up hope as Paul gave his grim prognosis.
"He's losing ground, Ben. With the fever going down a bit, he should have improved. Instead his pulse is weak, and there's still fluid in his lungs. I'm sorry, Ben. Just keep giving him the Quinine and doing the cool compresses and willow bark tea. That's all I can offer." Ben sat down with Joe again. He put another cool cloth on the fevered brow.
"He's going to be just fine," Ben answered. "He's a fighter my son is. He won't quit now."
"Ben..."
"No! I don't want to hear it, Paul. If I lose Joe...then it will all have been for nothing, all the hard work, all the years we spent here building the Ponderosa, even the journey Adam and I made from Boston. With Adam out east and Hoss...and now Joe. Paul...he won't leave me."
"There's always hope, Ben. You need to get some rest though." Ben's glare told the physician that whatever else he had to say, it wasn't worth hearing. Paul shook his head again. He was afraid for his old friend. Losing one son for Ben Cartwright was like having the earth open up and take his heart with it when it closed. Losing Little Joe would kill the man.
"Ben, do you want me to send a telegram to Adam?" he asked. Ben didn't answer. His hand rested on Joe's. He squeezed it.
"Ben!"
"I'll talk to you later, Paul," the white haired man answered, his gaze never leaving Little Joe's handsome if fevered face. "I have to be with my boy. We haven't had a lot of time to spend together lately," Paul felt a shiver go down his spine. He wondered if he dared to leave Ben alone. Walking downstairs, he found Hop Sing waiting anxiously. He was about to fill the China man in on the precarious situation when the door flew open and a shadow crossed the doorway. Dr. Paul Martin and Hop Sing were totally taken aback by the presence of a man sorely needed, and appearing out of the blue as if God had placed him there just as Paul wished.
"Adam?" Paul cried with relief and surprise. "Where did you come from?"
"Outside," Adam replied with a sardonic grin, stepping up to the doctor. Paul's eyes went up and down the muscular form. City living hadn't changed the young man much. He still wore black, and still had that complacent look about him, as if he had everything under control. To Paul, Adam was a young replica of his father...and exactly what Ben needed to get through this tragedy.
"Doc, it's good to see you. I suppose Little Joe has gotten himself into some kind of scrape or another, huh? Is everyone up in his room? I'll just run up there." Usually calm and observant, Adam was clearly excited. He brushed past Paul and Hop Sing and hurried up the stairs leading from the great room of the log house to the second floor. Paul rushed after him with Hop Sing following.
"Adam, wait," Paul called out, but Adam Cartwright was his own man. Adam knocked on his brother's door and then entered the room. Ben barely heard his son's arrival. Thinking it was Hop Sing, he spoke up.
"Hop Sing, I'll need some more cold water, and cloths. He's still hot." The dispirited voice hung in the air until footsteps closed in on the father and his youngest son. "Hop Sing?" Ben looked up to see a stricken Adam who stared at Little Joe.
"Adam?" Ben croaked, barely able to say the name, and hardly able to believe his son was home. He had yet to have sent that telegram Paul asked about, or any other news for the truth was he didn't know what to tell his son so far away, that Hoss was dead and Joe dying? He couldn't convey news like that in a telegram or a letter. Now his oldest boy, his right hand man was standing right next to him.
"Pa, what is it? What's happening?...Is Joe okay?"
"Adam...Thank God," Ben merely replied hugging his son tight. Holding his father close, Adam Cartwright didn't have to ask if he had come home to disaster. Joe's pitiful condition and his father's trembling hug were mute testimony.
"Pa, Please. It's all right now. Where's Hoss. Surely he's helping you." With a soft cry, Ben released Adam from his embrace. Adam rambled on, not knowing what he was saying. "You look exhausted. Is Hoss out there trying to run the ranch by himself? That's a stunt he would pull, always doing more than he should. Pa?" Fear came to live with Adam in that second, fear and then shock at the sorrow etched on his father's face. The last time he had witnessed such devastation in his father was when his stepmother died. Adam looked to Paul.
"Paul? Where's my brother? Damn it, where's Hoss?" Paul looked helplessly past Adam to Ben. Ben's hand on Adam's shoulder was gentle. Somehow he got the words out.
"Adam...Hoss is gone."
"Gone where?" Adam asked, immediately denying what gone really meant.
"Gone to be with his mother," Ben told him. Adam's slight movement didn't go unnoticed by Paul. When the young man reacted, Paul was ready. Adam's guttural cry followed him as his knees met the floor and his head fell into his hands.
"No! No! No!" Adam screamed. "No! Oh God, No!" Paul made to kneel before the young man, but Ben was faster. Despite his own grief, Ben was there for his son. Sitting on the floor, he pulled Adam into his arms, sobbing with him, releasing some of the grief that he hadn't been able to by himself. A terrible loss hung over the men huddled together on the floor and over the boy lying in the bed. From somewhere it was certain Hoss Cartwright was crying with his family and wishing there was some way to save his family from the pain they had to get through, but there was no way to stop that pain, not then, and there wouldn't be, not for a long time.
III
Two days later, Joe's fever broke, but he wasn't out of the woods, Paul warned Ben and Adam. He still had a long road to walk to get back to being Little Joe.
In his bed, in his mind, Joe Cartwright was stuck, stuck between the hell of holding his brother's dead body in his arms...and the cajoling of his father and brother, Adam as they tried to help him. When ever he opened his eyes, all he saw was Hoss' sightless eyes staring into the heavens. What he heard was his father's voice talking to him while he fought the fever and the coughing and the chest pain he was suffering from the pneumonia. He wanted Hoss so badly, but Hoss didn't come. Adam did. Adam had come home just as Hoss had promised. Somehow Adam made him fight the fever and the Pneumonia, but beyond that he just couldn't move further.
"Hey, Little Buddy," Adam spoke. Adam's hand was forcing him to drink. The water dribbled down his chin. "Come on, Joe, you gotta drink something. You're getting weaker you know. If you don't want to do it for me, do it for Pa. He's awfully worried about you." Joe hadn't meant to make his father worry. Somehow he could not help himself. The water continued to dribble down his chin. He wasn't thirsty. He wasn't hungry. He wasn't anything.
"Pa, I don't know what to do to help him," Adam groaned as he put the glass of water down on the table by Joe's bed. Ben, sitting in a chair near by was silent before answering his son.
"I don't either, Adam. We just have to be here for him. It's like Paul said. He's lost now, trying to find his way back after a terrible shock." Adam shuddered.
"When you told me how you found them...I couldn't believe it. Pa, Joe's such a sensitive little guy, even though he's full grown. What do you expect happened out there?"
"I don't know," Ben said again. "We'll have to wait till Joe can tell us. Paul thinks Hoss was in the water too long. When...when I found them, Joe was drying off, but his hair and clothes were still wet. It's anybody's guess how long either of them were in the water."
"So Hoss...died and Joe survived. Pa, do you think Joe knows that and is feeling guilty?" Ben exchanged a silent glance with Adam, the wise chocolate colored eyes speaking volumes.
"I thought so," Adam conceded. The dark haired man looked down on his little brother's face. The emptiness in those eyes seemed to tell him that Joe was already dead inside. Still Adam spoke to him. "Damn, Joe. Why do you have to feel everything so?"
"Cause he's Joe, that's why," Ben smiled a little. "Remember Marie, how she laughed and worried and felt everything twice as hard as anyone else. Joe's just like her that way."
"So are you," Adam replied. "Think that's one thing that drew you two together." Ben's face showed his surprise at the words. Slowly he nodded.
"I suppose you're right. You're very observant, Son."
"Do you know what made me finally accept Marie as a mother?" Adam asked confiding something to his father that he had held close for nigh on twenty years.
"I thought it was Little Joe coming. After he was born, it seemed as if you and Marie got along much better."
"In a way. It was just before Joe was born. It was raining and you were in town running some kind of errand. Marie was sitting down. Hoss tried to get up in her lap. We were all by the fireplace where it was cosy and warm and Marie was planning to read a story to Hoss. When he tried to get up, she told him he didn't fit in her lap right then. Well Hoss was just six. He didn't quite understand."
"So what happened?"
"Hoss asked Marie if he'd ever fit with her again, that's just how he said it. Well right then, Joe was kicking her so she took his hand, letting him feel the baby. She told Hoss that what he felt in his hand was his new little brother or sister and that as soon as the baby was born he would fit in her lap again. She warned him that she would be very busy with the new baby, and that she would need his help. Then she looked at me, sitting on the floor, reading my own book. I refused to look at her, but I couldn't help seeing her face so filled with joy and happiness as she finished. She said that no matter how big Hoss got or the baby or me, it didn't matter because love didn't recognize limits or size. All love recognized was a limitless capacity for joy and selfless caring."
"She was wiser than I would have admitted," Ben sighed with regret. "She would have made our lives so much better if she had lived."
"I wish she were here now," Adam added. "I think Joe would be able to reach out to her." Ben didn't reply. Adam hoped he hadn't hurt his father, but he figured the older man would understand. A mother's love was something every child needed and though Ben had tried hard, especially with Joe to provide all the parental guidance and love the boy needed, it was clear that Joe especially needed a mother.
"We'll get him back, Adam. We have to," Ben finally said. Adam wasn't so sure. Over the next few weeks, his doubts increased. Instead of returning to his usual impulsive self, Little Joe retreated further from his family. He started to fight them. He refused to be cleaned or shaved or fed. He took in small amounts of water, but otherwise no other nourishment. He grew weaker by the day. Adam began to give up that hope Marie spoke of. So did Ben. Paul couldn't help them. If something wasn't done soon, Little Joe would follow his brother to the grave in a senseless needless loss of life.
"Joe, Sweetheart, what is it we can do to help you, Son?" Ben asked after one particularly difficult morning. Outside the heat was as hot as could be, and Joe's room, even with the window opened was stifling. Joe sat as he had for the last few weeks in bed, staring at the wall as if he saw something there, something no one else could. His stubble was actually growing into a beard. His voice hadn't spoken in too long and his stone face made Ben want to cry. He had yet to really grieve for Hoss. Nor had Adam. They had no time for they worried about Joe. Ben was at his wits end. He had to reach his son. Somehow there had to be a way.
"Joe, look at me," Ben ordered sharply. When the thick curly black head, the strands now liberally streaked with gray, didn't move, Ben moved his son's chin. Joe simply pulled back to where he had been looking. Ben sighed. He gave Joe some water only half of which Joe drank. Next he bent over and kissed the young man on the forehead. There was no response. Ben left the room, left his son alone for the first time. With an idea in his head the father hurried to find Adam. Twenty minutes later the two men walked up the stairs to Joe's room with Adam talking.
"Pa, are you sure about this. Moving him might not be a good idea right now. Maybe we should ask Paul."
"Paul said he doesn't know what to do," Ben replied. "Adam, if we don't do something, Little Joe won't be here in a few days. I can't just stand back and let him give into whatever it is that is pulling him down, not without a fight." Adam Cartwright saw his father's grim expression. His wan smile was his response as they entered Joe's room.
"Fight. That's what Hoss would want to do too. If Hoss were here, he'd give him what for." Ben couldn't help chuckling.
"He would too, wouldn't he? Never could stand for a person to feel sorry for themselves."
"But that's not what you think Joe is doing is it, Pa?"
"No, Adam, no I don't." Ben didn't elaborate further. He pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped Joe in it. The young man was weak. He fought for a few seconds as Ben pulled him into his arms, but gave in quickly. There wasn't much left of the boy, Ben thought. Hoss had called his brother Little Joe because he was so tiny when he was born and he never did get to be as big as his brothers. Now, almost starved and grossly underweight, the young man weighed nothing in Ben's strong arms. He carried his son outside. Adam took his brother while Ben got into a wagon. Then Joe was laid in the wagon, his head on Ben's lap. Joe's breathing became anxious for a few minutes, rapid and rather frightening to Ben. Adam got into the driver's seat. Ben whispered to him to wait for a second. Brushing his hand across Little Joe's thick hair, Ben was silent. Finally Joe calmed down. Adam flicked the reins and the wagon drove out of the yard with Hop Sing standing and watching as his family drove away.
High above the sun beat down unmercifully on the family. Neither Ben nor Adam were detoured from their purpose. Ben shielded Joe with his own body from the brutal heat. When they came to the shores of Lake Tahoe, Ben knew they were at the beginning of Joe's nightmare. Getting down off the wagon, he reached in and picked his son up again, holding his covered body close to him. Walking down to the water's edge, he sat down with Adam at his side. He made Joe sit, leaning against him. At first Joe didn't seem to notice where he was. Adam took off his hat and filled it with cool water. He poured it over his head.
"Whoa," he sighed. "That's heaven. Betcha Hoss would have loved the water on such a hot day."
"Kind of cold isn't it, Son?"
"Yeah, kind of. Want some? I'll fill a canteen for you and Joe."
"Sounds good to me," Ben agreed. Adam got some canteens from the wagon and poured out the water, filling them with the clear liquid of the lake. Joe was getting restless lying in Ben's arms.
"Joe, feel the wind from the lake. It's much cooler here don't you think? Remember when Hoss would come down here with all of us. He and Adam would dunk you in the water and you'd come out all shivering. Remember?" Joe shook his head. So he could hear, Ben thought. Adam brought the canteens to his father. Ben opened one and took a good long swig. The water was tasty and fresh. He gave it back to Adam.
"Give some to your brother. I bet he's powerfully thirsty." In that moment Ben sounded just like Hoss to Adam. Joe brushed the canteen away. Adam tried again to give his brother some refreshment. Again Joe brushed it away. To Ben's surprise, the boy threw himself forward, falling just short of the water. Crawling on all fours, Joe got closer and closer to the waters edge. Adam started towards him. Ben stood pulling him back.
"Let's see what he'll do," Ben instructed. Adam's face was pale despite the heat. Ben's heart beat in protective mode for his son, but he held himself in check.
"He'll drown himself," Adam growled."I don't think so." Ben replied, wishing he felt as sure as he tried to sound.
"Joe, Son, go ahead. Get cool in the water. Hoss would go in with you if he were here. He'd be right there beside you, Son." Joe crawled into the water. Suddenly he was fully submerged. Ben held Adam back further. Both men waited for several long seconds. It was all they could do not to run and pull Joe to shore. Ben had just put his foot forward when his son, his Joseph came up coughing, sputtering and then...screaming.
"Hoss! Hoss! Get out of the water! Hoss!" Ben waited a second more. Joe sat in the water, his nightshirt slapped against his bony structure, his hands hitting the surface in anger. "Hoss get out! Oh, God, Hoss. Why? Why? Why?" On weakened legs, Joe stood. He looked upward.
"Damn you!" He swore. "Damn you for taking my brother. Damn-you! Hoss! Pa! Adam! Pa!" Ben needed no further invitation. They splashed into the water to Joe's side. Joe looked from the sky to Adam to Ben.
"Pa?"
"Yes, Son. We're here, Sweetheart. We're here." Desperate green eyes locked on Ben's warm caring brown ones.
"Pa, he...he pulled me out of the current. He could have got on the boat to save himself. Instead he saved me. Pa!" Joe's tears came in torrents as Ben and Adam led him out of the water. Sitting down on the ground again, all them wet and dirty, Ben held his son as he sobbed."Joe, it's all right now. It's all right," Ben crooned, rocking back and forth as if Joe were a baby. Both he and Adam had tears in their own eyes as Joe went on telling them what happened that terrible day.
"He swam us to shore after he pulled me out of the water. The boat turned over, ya know, in the storm? He put me on the backside of the boat and swam us to shore. Pa, he held on until I could pull him to shore. He held on...for me!" Joe's words tumbled out as he sobbed. Ben's strength and courage held Joe together. Adam touched the boy's curls. Joe wasn't a boy anymore, but to the men with him, he was still the little boy they had raised. They wanted to absorb as much grief for Joe as they could.
"Joe, shhh," Adam whispered. "He's still with us, Little Buddy. He wouldn't really leave us." The tears flowed and still Adam went on. "Every time we sit down to breakfast or dinner, or go on a cattle drive, he'll be with us. For every moment in our lifetimes, he'll be there to cheer us on or to listen to our woes. Joe, he was our brother, and he won't ever be forgotten. Do you hear me?" Joe didn't answer, but his hand sought his brother's. He squeezed it. Ben stood. Joe wasn't strong enough to walk. Lifting his beloved son into his arms again, Ben's heart swelled when Joe's arms went around him. Together the two men sat on the end of the wagon, Joe resting his head on his father's shoulder, Ben relieved that somehow Joe was coming back to them. Joe sat up, getting out what he just had to say.
"Pa...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save him the way he saved me. I know you and Adam loved him so." Adam stood in front of his father and brother. Joe looked at Adam.
"He was so excited you were coming home...he was so excited."
"I told him I was coming home for good," Adam said. "And I promise, Little Buddy. I promise, I'll stay home this time."
"I'm glad, Adam. I'm more glad than you know."
"Adam, let's go home," Ben told his oldest son. Adam nodded. He got up on the driver's seat again, his heart still heavy with loss, but at least now filled with hope, for himself, for his father and even for Joe. Behind him he could hear his father and brother talking.
"Pa...I didn't get to say good-bye, not really." Joe was saying. "Did you?"
"No, Joe, not really. How about if you and Adam and Hop Sing and I go up to see him when you are stronger, and we'll all say good-bye...to him." Now Ben choked. For so long his attention had been on his son, on saving Hoss' little brother. Now that Joe had come back to them, the sheer magnitude of his loss hit him.
"Pa?" Joe asked seeing the indescribable sorrow on Ben's face. "Pa, I'm back now. We'll get through this together, right? Hoss will help us. And we'll win through like he said that day?" Ben's attention was riveted back to Joe. His strong palm cupped his son's face until he pulled him into a loving embrace. Ben's heart was torn in his joy and sorrow. Adam was home. Joe was coming home. And Hoss...oh God, he had to give his son up now. While the patriarch grieved, he vowed that somehow, yes somehow they would win through, because they had to, if nothing else, for Hoss' sake.
"We'll be all right, Joe, as long as we have each other." Ben replied. As long as we have each other.
"Hoss," Joe whispered. "He is here, Pa. I can feel him. Adam's right. He's here with us, and he always will be." Ben smiled at Joe's words. Closing his eyes, he could see his second son, the baby in his mother's arms, the little boy teaching Joe to walk and then ride, the big man protecting all he loved, that silly grin, those laughing eyes and that gentle heart. Ben Cartwright reached out for Hoss hugging him close. He whispered the words he had wanted to say for weeks. When Ben hugged him, Joe didn't know it was Hoss his father was seeing and Hoss, Ben gave his love to for the last time. Had Joe known, he wouldn't have minded for Ben's words touched his heart as surely as they would have touched Hoss'.
"I love you, Son. Don't you ever forget it. Your Pa loves you, always." The wagon drove off across the fields towards the Ponderosa, leaving behind the spirit of Hoss Cartwright as he frolicked in the cold waters of Lake Tahoe, the gentle giant who would always be remembered, in the hearts of the father and brothers he left behind...and anyone who was lucky enough to know and love Ole Hoss.