FOUR

ooooo

It took them most of the day to reach the Russell's cabin.

The older woman said it was a 'far piece' and she wasn't kidding. They rode two-thirds of the way seated together on Julia's horse. He and Pat agreed it was best to keep Cochise, with her distinct markings, at Ed Flander's place. Julia's horse was a beautiful black with three white socks, so he was pretty distinctive as well, which was why they paid a farmer's young son to take him back to the ranch and made the last third of the journey on foot.

The cabin was more of a log house, with dark hand-hewn beams that had white chinking between them. By the time they reached it the light was fading, so it was hard to determine its size. It wasn't small. From the look of the place, a lot of love had gone into building it. It made him wonder why the Russells left.

"Is the door locked?" Julia asked.

She was standing behind him on the porch. Joe glanced in her direction. The failing light hid her face, but from the tone of her voice, he could tell she was exhausted.

"I haven't tried it yet," he admitted.

Wearily, Joe reached out with one black-gloved hand and tried the latch.

The door wouldn't budge.

After examining the locking mechanism, he let out a sigh. "There's no keyhole. My guess is it's barred from within. Some kid probably climbed inside and was horsing around."

"Maybe they left a window open."

"Maybe, but let's hope not. Who knows what critters may have taken up residence if they did." Joe tried the door again. It shifted a bit this time. "The timber looks dry. Maybe it will give if I strike it hard enough."

"What about your shoulder?"

He grinned. "I'll use the other one."

Joe turned so he was facing the dying sun and placed his right shoulder against the wooden door. Then he gave it a shove. It moved a little more, but didn't give way. He glanced at Julia and then tried again, putting more force and more of his weight behind it. This time it groaned.

He groaned too.

"I think I better go look for that window," he admitted.

"Let me help," Julia said as came up behind him. "Maybe if both of us push it will give."

"No, I can't let you do that."

"Why?" she snapped. "Because I'm a woman?"

"Well…."

Julia glared at him.

"All right. You can…help. Just be careful."

"Me be careful? What about you? You're the one who was shot!"

"I've been shot before," he growled as he repositioned himself.

"Well, I've opened doors before!"

Joe looked over his shoulder at her. The light was on her face and Julia was indignant.

And beautiful.

"Okay, you win. But if the door attacks, you're on your own."

One corner of her rose-petal pink lips quirked. "If the door attacks, I promise I will save you."

Joe laughed. "It's a deal."

As he turned back, Julia reached around his waist and pressed her body into his. Her close proximity caught him off-guard and aroused feelings in him that were both unexpected and intense.

She must have sensed something, because she asked, "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he said softly.

At least, not physically.

"All right," Joe said. "On my count. One. Two. Three!"

The momentum of both their bodies was enough to snap whatever had been used to bar the door. Joe heard a crack, and then a groan – and then suddenly he was laying on the cabin's floor with Julia on top of him. The impact of being sandwiched between the floor and her long, lithe body drove the wind out of him which, in turn, prevented him from crying out as his injured shoulder slammed into the wooden planks. Julia let out a little 'whoop' as they went down. It took her a moment to realize her position – one long leg on either side of his hips – was, well, slightly less than respectable.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she bolted to her feet. "Sorry!"

Joe fought to keep a straight face. He was pretty sure Julia was as virginal as a young woman could be and he didn't want to do anything to embarrass her further.

"You've got…nothing to be…sorry for," he puffed out. "I'm fine –"

"Joe."

"Yeah?"

She inclined her head toward his left shoulder. "You're bleeding."

He looked. Sure enough, the fabric of the shirt he'd donned the night before was stained red.

"Damn."

ooooo

Jamie Cartwright was bored. He'd finished his chores, done his homework, and then finished more chores and there were still several hours to go until bed. With Joe away and Hoss…gone…there just wasn't much to do if his pa was busy. There was no one to play checkers with. No one to hang out in the barn and talk to. No one to tell those great stories of when Joe and Hoss and the mysterious unseen Adam were young.

He loved those stories.

The day had been okay until everyone arrived. Pa was in the house now with about a half-dozen men finishing up a meeting. A lot of their steers had gone missing recently and it seemed other people's had too. The men were from as far away as Sweet Water and Lone Pines, so the rustling was pretty widespread. He'd listened at the door a little bit before Hop Sing came out of the kitchen and shooed him away from the window outside Pa's office. The Chinese man had called him an 'eaves popper', which had made him laugh. He'd heard some big words while he was listening including 'confederation' and 'syndicate'. It seemed one of the men who'd come to the meeting had the idea that the rustling wasn't being done by individuals, but by outlaws and criminals who had joined together in some kind of an dishonest organization. That way they could protect each other.

Jamie shook his head. He'd never figure it out, he guessed. It just seemed like some people wanted to do wrong even when it would have been easier to do right. It took a lot of brains and muscle and special skills to outrun the law and outsmart a sheriff like Clem Foster. Pa'd been smoking his pipe one day and reading the paper. He'd told him all about this man that evaded the Pinkertons for years. When they caught him, he told them it hadn't been about what he stole but about the fact that he could steal it – and get away with it. Pa said it was kind of like playing chess.

Adam liked chess. At least that was what Pa had told him.

He wondered what Adam was like.

The red-headed boy lifted his head and closed his eyes and listened to the voice of the pines. It was late and they were whispering their secrets to each other. He loved to guess what they were saying. He also loved their scent. It was clean and sharp enough to split frogs' hair. Jamie grinned. Hoss had taught him that one.

He sure missed Hoss.

Still, he knew Joe missed him more.

When he thought of Hoss, it made him happy. The big man was always smilin' and laughing. Big brother sure loved to laugh. Joe kind of had 'moods'. He loved him, but there were times when you just had to leave him alone. He'd always come around, but sometimes it took some time. Hoss only had one mood – happy. When the Cartwrights took him in, he'd been kind of sad. He'd had his 'moods' too. Hoss had taught him you couldn't just wait for happiness to find you, you had to create it, and so he'd tried. He'd tried so hard since Hoss died.

Especially for Joe.

Big brother Joe felt responsible for Hoss' death. He didn't say so, but they all knew it. It wasn't his fault. There'd been a flash flood and a mudslide and Hoss had gone in to save both Joe and a lady and hadn't come out again. Joe was awful sad, but Pa said Hoss would have been even sadder if he'd lived and Joe had died.

Pa said God had his reasons.

With a sigh, Jamie jumped down from his perch on the fence and headed toward the barn. There was a new batch of kittens in one of the back stalls and he'd been watching them grow. Pa didn't know they were there and he wasn't going to tell him. Hop Sing knew. It was kind of their secret. The Chinese man had given him a bottle of cream for them. Since he didn't have anything else to do until Pa's meeting was done, he decided he'd take it to them and play with them for a while until he could go into the house.

Nothing could have surprised him more than to find there was someone already in the barn.

The man had brought his horse in and was unsaddling it. He was tall and had what people called 'salt and pepper' hair. He also had a scruff of a beard that had some gray in it too. The stranger was facing the back of the barn, so he couldn't see his face, but he was pretty sure he didn't know him. The coat he wore was the color of mustard. Jamie thought it was called a civilian great coat. It looked like the one military men wore, with a short cape over the shoulders. His hat was black like his pants.

He'd been standing there maybe thirty seconds when the man turned and looked at him. "Hello," he said.

Just 'hello', like he wasn't trespassing or anything.

"H…hi," Jamie stuttered. "What are you doing here?"

The man placed his saddle on the stable wall before replying. "I'm an old friend of the family. I was in the area and thought I would pay them a visit."

"It's just Pa and Joe now…and me," he said.

The man eyed him. "You're Jamie."

He nodded. "How'd you know?"

The stranger's gaze went to his hair. "Red hair. Freckles. Mid-teens. I don't think there's anyone else here who fits the description. Unless Joe's curls have turned copper."

"They're more like silver."

The man's brows peaked. "Really? When did this happen?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Hoss told me…. He said turnabout was fair play since Joe turned Pa's hair white."

The man's face went blank for a moment, as if his thoughts had flown a thousand miles away in just one second. "I'm sorry I wasn't here," he said as he turned back to his horse and began to lead it into one of the stalls. "For Hoss…but more for Joe."

Jamie watched the stranger go about all the things you had to do to stable a horse for the night. There was something about him that was kind of familiar, but he couldn't place it. He had a funny thought that it might be the long lost Adam Cartwright, but he let that go right away. The man didn't look like Hoss or Joe, or Pa even. As he stood there, puzzling it out, the front door of the house opened and Pa and the men he was meeting with spilled out into the yard. Most of them mounted up and rode away right quick. Barney Fuller, who was the one who had talked about the syndicate stayed the longest, but even he was gone by the time the stranger had finished with his horse. Pa watched Mr. Fuller go and then looked toward the barn and saw him. A moment later he started his way.

"Don't tell him I'm here," the stranger said as he stepped into the shadows.

Jamie frowned. He had half-a-mind too. He wasn't sure he trusted the tall dark man.

"Please."

The red-head let out a sigh. Then he took a couple of steps out of the stable and into the light.

"I thought you'd be in bed by now, son," Pa said as he stopped beside him.

"I wasn't sleepy."

"I'm sorry the meeting took so long." Pa let out a sigh. "There's a lot going on and not much known about it."

"Did you figure out who's rustling the cattle?"

"No. It's very widespread. It seems the worst loses are near Lone Pines, but cattle have gone missing from Hawthorne to Lovelock."

"Isn't Lone Pines where Joe went?"

The older man nodded. "Yes. I tried to talk him out of it, but you know your brother. He wouldn't listen."

"So what else is new?" a voice asked out of the darkness. "Since when has Joe ever listened?"

Now, he'd seen a lot of looks on his pa's face. The older man wasn't real good at hiding his emotions. He'd seen him happy and sad, mad – maybe even furious – concerned and worried and even scared. But he'd never seen this look. There was a word for it. It was a funny one.

Flummoxed.

Jamie grinned from ear to ear as the stranger held out his hand.

No, not the 'stranger'.

Adam.

ooooo

"Do you ever listen?!"

"I always listen!" he snapped back.

"Oh? Do you? Then why are you standing when I told you to sit?"

"I don't like to be told what to do."

Julia let out a little exasperated sigh. "I asked nicely first."

He looked over his shoulder. "Did you?"

She had her hands planted firmly on her hips – just like her mother. "Yes, I did, and since you were listening, I guess you just didn't hear."

He let the curtain drop back into place. "That must be it."

The young woman shook her head. "Has anyone ever told you that you try a person's patience?"

He'd moved to the other window and was looking out. So far, he'd seen no one and nothing had moved, but he wasn't going to settle until he was certain they were safe.

"Not in so many words," he replied as he turned back into the room.

"Oh, I bet," Julia said as she approached him. "I can imagine just what words they used." She cocked her head and looked at him. "Please, Joe, come over here and sit down before you fall down."

"I need to make sure you're safe first."

"You've put a new bar in place and shoved a chest of drawers up against it. The windows are nailed shut. What do you think someone is going to do, come down the chimney?"

His eyes went to the hearth. "Better light a fire…."

"I can do that! Joe…."

He looked at her. He didn't want to look at her. He was trying his best to keep so busy he couldn't even think about her.

"What?"

A tear escaped to trail down her cheek. "Please."

In war that was what was known as unfair tactics.

When he hesitated still, she added, "Have you looked at the floor?"

"The floor?"

"Look. At the floor."

He scowled as he did what she wanted. The scowl deepened when he saw what she saw – he'd left a trail of blood from window to window.

"You have to let me dress that wound, Joe. Otherwise you're going to get sick and then you aren't going to do me any good, are you?"

He pursed his lips. And wrinkled his nose.

And gave in.

"Where do you want me?"

She took hold of his good arm and led him across the room like a little boy. "Come over here to the table. I lit a lamp so I can see what I'm doing."

It was only after Joe sat down that he realized how tired he was, and how weak he felt. He closed his eyes and began to sink.

"Take off your shirt."

That woke him up. "What?"

"I can't bandage your shoulder with your shirt on."

"But…." He drew a breath. "It wouldn't be right."

She placed a hand on her hip. "I don't know what you're worried about. I'm certainly not going to swoon when I see your shoulder. I've seen just about everything you've got anyway."

His eyes went wide.

"I said, 'just about everything'." Julia smiled. "Ma kept one of the towels in the right place when I tended you."

He was sure his cheeks were redder than the blood on the floor. "Julia, I…."

"Look. You can take your shirt off, or I'll take it off for you. One way or the other, I'm tending to that wound," she warned.

"You sound like your mother," he said as he complied. "You know that?"

Julia took the shirt between two fingers and tossed it over the back of the next chair. "I certainly do. Ma said men aren't smart enough to know when they need tending, so you have to be smart for them. They'd rather pretend they don't need doctoring and die."

He laughed as he gave in. "Your mother is a very shrewd woman."

"She had to be," she replied as she went to the sink and returned with a bowl of water and a clean cloth. "Ma said Pa was one of the most stubborn men she ever knew."

"Your father?" he asked as she wrung the cloth out. "He seemed very easy-going."

"Ma said that was because he was old. She said he was just like you when he was young."

"And how is that?"

"Mule-headed and cock-sure of himself."

"I am not – ouch!"

Julia frowned at him. "I think it needs a couple of stitches. I can't get it to stop bleeding. I wonder if there's any extra alcohol here."

"There's a bottle of whiskey in the cabinet I pushed up against the door." At her look, he grinned. "I couldn't help but notice."

She gave him that 'Men!' look women have and went to get it. Once she'd returned, Julia popped the cork and put the whiskey on the table next to the half-full one they'd brought. Then she went to fetch a needle and thread. He heard a 'tsk-ing' noise as she returned to the table and found he'd upended the whiskey into his mouth.

"Doc Martin always prescribed a shot before surgery."

"I bet." She sat beside him and frowned as she took another look. "This is going to hurt."

"Are you up to it?" he asked, suddenly concerned. "We can let it go…."

"No, we can't. And I'm fine. Pa and I went fishing once and he cut himself and I had to make a needle out of a hook to sew him up."

He looked at her with new eyes. "And this is the girl who was scared a man was going to die in her bed?"

"I loved Pa," she said, her tone wistful. "I would have done anything for him, just like I'd do anything for..." Her voice caught as she realized what she'd almost said. "Like I'd do anything for a friend."

"Thank you," he said, and meant it.

Julia held the cloth with the alcohol on it over the wound. "Ready?" she asked.

He nodded.

Even though he wasn't.

ooooo

"Adam! Son! What…? Son, what are you doing here?"

Adam was staring at him. "Don't I get a hug?" he asked.

Ben laughed. "You mean you want one?"

His son gazed long and hard at him. "Yes, sir. I do."

He'd always done his best to honor his son's wishes and leave Adam's emotional barriers intact. Hoss had honored them as well, but had made every attempt to get his brother to lower them.

Joseph had tossed himself against them, determined to break them down.

Between his three sons there had been a great love, but for the most part it remained unspoken. A cuff, a shot to the arm; such simple gestures had expressed it in full. Joseph was the most tactile and Adam, the least. Touch meant the world to him as well, but he'd refrained from touching his oldest, knowing it made the boy uncomfortable.

Perhaps not so the man.

Adam stepped out of the shadows to embrace him. "It's good to be home, Pa."

"It's good to have you home. Are you –?"

"I'm here for a couple of weeks. I had business in San Francisco that got delayed, so I decided to come pay you all a visit." Adam smiled at Jamie who stood nearby somewhat at a loss. "I had to meet my new little brother, now, didn't I?"

As the boy grinned, Ben asked, "Why didn't you write ahead? Joseph's gone. I'm sure he would have wanted to be here to greet you."

His son winced. "Are you sure of that, Pa? I'm not."

"Yes, I'm sure. Whatever anger your brother had over you leaving is long since past."

"What about my not being here when Hoss…passed?"

Ben sucked in air. He let it out slowly. "Joseph was…is lost in a way."

"He still blames himself?"

The rancher nodded. "To be honest, we both do. I let him go along with his brother. He went, and he came back when Hoss didn't. I think this trip to Lone Pines was as much to get away from me as to do business."

"Surely not, Pa."

"Joe's been awful sad," Jamie said.

Ben moved to circle the boy's shoulders with an arm. "Yes, he has. We've all been sad. I think…. Well, our grief had begun to weigh on one another. I think your brother needed some time away."

"When's he due back?"

"In a day or two." He felt Jamie stiffen under his arm. "What is it, son?"

"I'm sorry, Pa. I forgot," the boy replied.

"Forgot what?"

"While you were in that meeting, a man came by with a telegram." Jamie reached into his pocket and produced two envelopes. "He said to give this to you."

Ben looked at the envelope. It was postmarked from Lone Pines.

"Is it from Joe?"

"I think so." He opened the envelope, drew the telegram out, and scanned the lines. "Your brother is at the Griswolds."

"Aren't those the people who took care of Joe when he got bushwhacked and almost died?" Jamie asked.

Ben's gaze flicked to Adam. He hadn't told his son about the incident. "Yes. He says some strange things have been happening there and he wants to make sure Pat and Julia are all right before he comes home. There's also something…."

"What is it, Pa?" Adam asked.

"Apparently Joe has asked Clem Foster to look into the local sheriff's background." Ben frowned. "Robert Truslow was the most incompetent lawman I'd ever met! I thought Hoss was going to take his head off more than once for delaying the investigation into what happened to your brother."

"And what did happen to Joe?"

Ben returned the telegram to its envelope and put it in his pocket. "It's a long story, son."

Adam grinned.

"How about that? I just happen to have a few weeks free."

ooooo

To be continued….

ooooo