EIGHT

ooooo

Ben Cartwright looked across the fire at Ed Flanders. Night had fallen and they'd made camp. They'd traveled, perhaps, five miles in search of Julia and the men who had taken her. He'd been careful to mark their path as they traveled in such a way that Adam would recognize the signs. His eldest intended to follow once he was certain his brother was out of danger. Adam was worried about Joe.

He was worried about Ed.

The homesteader hadn't said much as they traveled. From what Pat told him, Flanders was a man of few words on his most loquacious days.

He held himself like someone who had been punched and never recovered from the blow.

"Cartwright."

"Yes."

"What are you doing here?"

It was an honest question, if an odd one given the circumstances. "My son sent a telegram saying he would be delayed at the Griswolds. I came to see if Joe was all right."

"Seems to find trouble easy, that one."

Ben agreed. "Yes. Yes, he does. In some ways Joseph is an innocent and I suppose that's my fault. He's too trusting of people."

"While you're not?"

There was something in the man's tone that put him on edge. "Are you saying I shouldn't be?"

"All I'm saying is, here you are alone in the wilderness with a man you barely know. You're sharin' a fire with him while your gun's in its holster and hangin' on the saddle horn twenty feet away." Ed patted his side. "I got mine right here."

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Do you intend to use it?"

"Maybe. But not for what you think."

"And what would that be?"

"Bushwhackin' you, like Orv and Jim bushwhacked your boy."

"Did someone bushwhack your boy, Ed?"

The homesteader's jaw went tight. "In a way. Jimmy didn't have a chance."

"Was the killer caught?"

Ed shook his head. "Sheriff Truslow said he didn't find any evidence of who done it."

Ben's tone was dark. "He didn't find any evidence of who attacked Joe either. His brother and I had to do that."

Ed reached forward and picked up his coffee. He took a sip before saying, "You don't like old Bob much, do you?"

"I think he's incompetent at best and corrupt at worst."

"And you intend to find out which it is?"

Ben let out a sigh. "My son has been hunted down like an animal and almost killed, twice. If I find out Sheriff Truslow is somehow involved, it is my intention to take him down. I'm surprised, considering what happened to your boy, that it's not your intention as well."

"Never said it wasn't."

It took a second. "What?"

Ed leaned back. "Tom Griswold was a good friend of mine. I trusted him. He told me, 'fore he took off on that drive, that he suspected Robert was dirty."

"What? Tom knew?"

"He suspected. Don't know as he had any proof. Tom wasn't comfortable when Bob signed up at the last minute to go on the drive. I guess we know why."

"You suspect Truslow had him killed? Have you told Pat this?"

"No, and I'm not likely to. She'd march herself right over to his office and demand the truth. Pat's smart, but she's also a woman. She thinks with her heart and not her head." Ed smiled. A rare occasion. "I been courtin' her partly to keep an eye on her and Julia. Figured if Truslow and his crew saw me over there all the time, they'd think twice about doin' anythin'."

"So the accidents…?"

"Someone's been tryin' to drive her out. That's prime land she's got and there's a lot of acres to hide rustled cattle on."

Ben shifted his position and leaned toward the fire. "Before I left the Ponderosa, there was a meeting at my house. It seems there's some sort of syndicate, rustling and moving thousands of head a week. There wasn't one rancher between here and Lone Pines that was unaffected. Some had small losses, but others had a majority of their cattle taken."

"Seems to me it's been going on for a long time," Ed agreed. "It's just got big enough that someone's noticed. I did some checking around before you showed up. It seems Bob's not the only one turning a blind eye. I visited half-a-dozen sheriffs in the surrounding towns. Half of them had nothing to say."

"You think they're on the take?"

"That, or they're gettin' kick-backs from the sales. Maybe both."

It made sense. If Truslow was in the syndicate's pocket, he would have done everything he could to keep them from finding out who bushwhacked Joe. He would also have been forced to eliminate Pettis and Fenton before they went to trial. And, if he knew Tom Griswold suspected his involvement, the dirty lawman would have been forced to eliminate him too.

"Do you think your son stumbled on their plan?"

Ed sighed. "James was a lot like his mother. He was headstrong boy. If he caught wind of somethin', he would have taken action on his own. I asked around and it seems some of the ranchers were talkin' about a group of men that were rustlin' down this way and how the local lawmen were turnin' a blind eye to what they was doin'. Seems to me that there man who shot him could have been one of them, pretendin' to be a grieving brother."

"I'm sorry, Ed. I'm sorry your son died – and I'm sorry I suspected you."

"Nothin' to be sorry about. A sorry man doesn't make it long in the West."

"No, I suppose he doesn't."

"Well, I'm gonna turn in. No knowing' what we'll face in the mornin'. I just hope Julia minds her tongue until we find her."

"Really? She seemed like a quiet, respectful girl."

Ed snorted. "Much as Tom was a friend of mine, he was a dreamer. He was always tellin' that girl a prince would come by one day and sweep her up and take her somewheres she could live a life of ease. When he died, she woke up from that dream. Wasn't too long after Tom passed that Pat took ill. Julia's been running the place for some time."

"Pat's not well?"

"Cut herself. Ain't mended."

"She seems fine."

Ed stared at him. "You got a wife, Ben?"

"I did. Three, in fact. Joseph's mother died when he was five."

"She ever hurt herself?"

He'd nearly forgotten. They'd been in the middle of haying. It was their third cutting and they were still short of what they needed. The weather had been as changeable as his wife's disposition. It rained before, during, and after they cut and formed the bales. Every day when he came in exhausted and in a worse mood than the day before, Marie would be there, waiting. She'd have his supper ready and his pipe and slippers by his chair. He was so tired he failed to notice the tightness around her eyes and lips. She was careful to keep out of the light so he couldn't see how pale she'd become. Finally, one night as she bent to pick up a paper he had dropped, she stumbled and almost fell. Marie put it off to fatigue, but when he questioned Hop Sing the next day he found out she had fallen and twisted her ankle while chasing Joseph down for a nap. She'd suffered silently for over a week and never said a word.

He nodded.

"I tried to stop Pat from comin', but she wouldn't have none of it," Ed said as he arranged his bedding. "She gave me a 'pshaw!' and called me an old worry-wort and started packing her bags."

"I imagine her concern for her daughter was paramount in making her decision."

"That girl's flighty as a feather in an October wind. She needs a man's firm hand to tether her to the ground." Ed looked at him. "Don't suppose that'd be your boy?"

Ben shook his head. While Joseph had been chief among his sons to think of marriage in his youth, as an older and more sober man he was not the marrying kind. The rancher shifted and laid down. As he lay on his back in his bedroll, visions of Julia Griswold from that last day flooded his mind's eyes – her shy smile, her gentle and pure beauty; her tall, willowy figure wrapped in a red calico dress with a plunging neckline.

Or was he?

ooooo

Joe Cartwright opened his eyes. For a moment he had no idea where he was, but then he shifted and pain exploded in his left shoulder reminding him of the events of the last few days.

"Damn!" he cursed.

"I swear I didn't do it," a familiar voice laced with irony and concern said. "At least not this time."

Joe closed his eyes, drew a breath, and then turned his head in the direction of the voice. Nearly ten years absence had brought almost as much gray into his brother's hair as his own – and there was less of it. Adam was still slender, but had bulked out as men in their forties were wont to do. He was dressed in his customary black, though the suit had an Eastern instead of a Western flair to it. Joe studied him a moment and then swallowed.

He didn't know what to say.

Adam's lips curled at one end. "It's good to see you too."

"Sorry, Adam, I'm…. Well, it's kind of a…shock. We thought…Pa and me that…well…maybe you were –"

"Dead?"

He nodded – and then winced as his wound once again made itself known.

"You want help sitting up?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

There was something about the touch of his brother's hands that nearly undid him. He was tired – dog-tired – and no matter how much he wanted to deny it, sick. So the fact that his emotions were on edge came as no surprise. What surprised Joe was the flood of relief that coursed through him. Adam would take care of everything. Adam would make everything all right.

Adam was here.

Except he hadn't been, and he wouldn't be again.

"You want some water?"

Joe nodded.

Adam poured him a glass and then leaned back in his chair and watched him drink it. He took a little longer than necessary, partly because of using his right hand, but also because he was hiding behind the glass. He didn't know what to say – wasn't sure what he would say. If there was one thing Joe Cartwright was famous for, it was blurting out his feelings in a rush of anger.

And he was angry.

"So," older brother said, folding his arms over his chest, "let's have it."

Joe eyed him over the rim of the glass. "Have what?"

"Both barrels."

"Huh?"

Adam sighed. "Joe, the last time I saw you, you were mad enough to spit nails. I've always…regretted how we parted. How I…wounded you."

Joe shrugged. "I was a kid."

"And now you are a wise old sage?"

"Look, Adam," he began as he straightened up. "You haven't been home for nearly a decade. You have no idea who I am anymore, so don't…." Joe drew a breath as pain stabbed him. "Don't even try to pretend that you do!"

His brother pursed his lips. He'd finally figured out why he did that. It kept Adam from blurting out his feelings.

"Joe, you need to calm down – "

"And don't start telling me what to do!" he snapped. "You gave up the right to do that when you walked out the door and broke Pa's heart!"

A silence fell between them broken only by his own ragged breathing. Joe sucked in air through his nostrils and blew it out slowly, seeking to regain control of his temper.

Adam was the first to speak. "Joe, when you were twenty and you wanted to get married – why was that?"

"What do you mean 'why was that'?"

"Why did you want to get married?"

"Because I loved Laura."

"And?"

He scowled. "And…I don't know. I wanted to be with her, just the two of us. I guess I wanted a place of my own."

"To be your own man."

Joe winced again as he shifted his shoulder. If the truth was known, he was getting awfully tired, but he'd never admit that to his brother. Whatever poultice Pat had put on his shoulder had taken some of the fire out of it, but it was still hot to the touch and he was still feverish. If he was going to do what he had to do, he couldn't let anyone know how weak he was.

"Yeah, I guess," he replied.

"As you know, Joe, I was…burned on my way to the altar. I decided then that marriage wasn't for me. Still, like you, I needed a 'place of my own' and to be my own man. I had to go away to find both." Adam smiled. "Much as I love our father…."

He'd thought about it after Adam left. He'd always envied his brother being the oldest . Now, since he'd been thrust into that position by Pa adopting Jamie and Hoss' death, he understood better what it meant. Constant responsibility. Unending worry.

Living up to Pa's expectations.

"He casts a big shadow," he said quietly.

"Yes, he does." Adam rose to his feet. "And now, little brother, I think you'd better get some sleep. You look tired as Old Nick."

Joe scowled. "You gonna tuck me in?"

"Well, if I thought it would make you stay put, I would."

He'd slipped down a bit so his head was resting on the pillow. "Huh?"

"Just when were you thinking of sneaking out to go after Julia?"

Joe put on his best innocent look. "Who me?"

"Yes, you. I was going to go join Pa and Ed, but then I got to thinking. It's what I do best, you know?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I leave, which leaves Pat Griswold here to keep you in bed. From what I understand, the last time you were under her care you were…compliant." Adam sighed. "I may not know you now, Joe, but I knew you then. You'll pull that face you just gave me, take your medicine and pretend to go to sleep – and then sneak out before the sun is up."

"And what are you going to do about it if I do?"

"Why, go with you, of course. Get some sleep and we'll see how you are in a few hours. Then – if you're strong enough – we'll take a wagon and follow Pa."

It took him a moment to swallow his pride. "Thanks, Adam."

The man in black reached out to tussle his curls. "That's what older brothers are for, little buddy."

He had a snappy comeback. He just didn't have the energy to deliver it.

A few seconds later, Joe Cartwright was asleep.

ooooo

"Now what?" Ben asked.

Ed Flanders shook his head. "Beats me. A man's got to have a trail to follow for him to go anywhere."

Julia's kidnappers were sharp. They'd left few signs of their passage before, and now that they had come into the high country, there were none. In the last half hour grass and meadowland had given way to scrub and rock. In the beginning there were three horses, but they'd been joined by three others for a total of six. Five men and Julia, he supposed. The girl must have been riding since no single horse's tracks were driven into the earth any deeper than the others.

The rancher stepped back and looked up the steep grade they faced. "Do you have any idea where they would be going? What would be out here?"

"There's a box canyon not too far from here. It'd be a pretty good place to hide a thousand head of cattle."

"The rustlers."

"That'd be my guess."

If Ed was right, it changed things. A couple of kidnappers they could take on alone. Dozens of men, dedicated to crime and bent on secrecy, would be another matter entirely.

"Can we go to the law? Is there anyone other than Truslow we can trust?"

The homesteader thought a moment before inclining his head toward the south. "Bridgeport's over that way. That's Damien Strait." Ed's lips curled at one end. "Folks around here call him 'damn strait'. Trouble is, we're out of his jurisdiction."

"I imagine some of the stolen cattle would be 'in' his jurisdiction, don't you think?"

Ed snorted. "Hard to tell till we check each and every one of them thousand of quarters for a brand."

"Exactly. How long it is to Bridgeport?"

"I'm thinkin' a couple of hours."

Ben glanced at the sky. The day was advancing. He hated to leave Julia in the rustlers' hands overnight, but it seemed they had little choice. She was a beautiful girl.

"You thinkin' about Julia?"

"Yes."

Ed's hand descended to his gun. "Me too. Those men touch her, well…."

Ben nodded.

They would make them pay.

ooooo

Joe woke again, only this time it was to find Pat Griswold sitting by his side. She had her hands folded in her lap and was staring out the window. The late afternoon light was slanting through it, casting golden-red ribbons on the floor. He noted her straight spine and closed eyes and decided she was praying, so he simply watched her. He bet, in her youth, that she'd turned a lot of heads with her small chiseled features, shapely form, and reddish golden-blonde hair. That beauty had matured now, ripened by wisdom and honed by sorrow.

She was one of the strongest women he had ever known.

As he lay there, drifting in and out of sleep, Joe wondered what his own mother would have been like at that age. He had few real memories of her. Her face was the face in the portrait on his father's desk – a mask of perfection with a shy smile and eyes that did nothing to hide the pain she had known. What he knew of her came from stories. He'd never tell Pa, but he liked Adam's stories best. Pa…. Well, Pa had loved her and lost her and lifted Marie De Marigny to sainthood. Hoss thought that she was the best ma that ever walked the Earth. Hop Sing's stories were the most fun. He'd never tire of hearing of their bouts to rule the kitchen and the part he had played in them. His favorite was the day he and his mama and Hop Sing got into a flour fight. By the time Pa got home, it looked like it had snowed in the kitchen! While Adam…. Adam and his ma hadn't gotten along well to start with. They'd fought too, but with words. Older brother had grown to respect her and love her, and when he spoke about her he told the truth. The plain honest truth.

His mother was a woman. She had her flaws like any woman.

He'd been looking at that portrait one day when Adam had come alongside him to get something out of Pa's desk. Older brother was there when the image was taken, so he'd asked him what she was smiling about.

'How happy she was,' Adam replied.

He'd looked at the portrait again. "Her eyes look sad."

Adam had done something then that was out of character. He'd draped an arm around his shoulder. "Joe, your mother had a hard path. She was young and beautiful and full of life, and just about every other woman in the territory was jealous of her. Marie left behind everything she knew to come out West. She had few friends."

'So what did she have to smile about?"

His brother had given his shoulders a little squeeze.

'You.'

"You enjoying the view?" a wry voice asked.

Joe turned to look. Now, Pat was watching him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she reached out and placed a hand on his forehead. "Fever's down."

"Better." He thought a second. "Hungry."

Pat laughed. "Now isn't that just like a man. First consideration back from the brink of death is food." She started to rise. "I'll get you some coffee and then we'll see how something light sits."

He caught her arm. "Pat."

She drew in a breath and held it a moment before letting it out in words. "I know what you're going to say and I won't hear it. It's no one's fault Julia's gone missing other than the men's who took her."

"I was careless. I wasn't paying attention. I…." He stopped, ashamed to admit what he'd been doing.

The older woman chuckled. "That girl. It didn't take her long."

He frowned. "What?"

"Joe, that child's been in love with you since the moment she saw you. It was all, 'Oh, Ma! What if he dies in my bed?', 'til she caught a look." Pat paused. "You're a right handsome man, Joe Cartwright, and a gentleman to boot. What woman wouldn't fall in love with you?"

He hoped he could pretend his blushes were because of the fever.

"That's why I sent Julia with you. Not because she's got it bad, but because I knew I could trust you." The older woman looked him straight in the eye. "I was right to trust you, wasn't I?"

He could feel Julia's hands on his skin; her lips touching his. He carried in his memory her scent and the softness of her hair.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said at last.

One golden-blonde eyebrow was arched. "I see," she said, and he was sure she did.

"How's he doing?" his brother asked as he reappeared. Apparently Adam had been outside. "Have you had to tie him down yet?"

Joe made a face.

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with him a good two or three days in bed won't cure."

"How about you?"

"Pish-tosh!" Pat exclaimed as she rose. "I'm right as a fiddle. And they saw women-folk are the worriers. You take over here while I go get your brother some grub."

Joe watched her go, noting her slight limp, before turning back to his brother. "I forgot Pat was injured," he said softly. "How is she?"

"You heard her," Adam said with a grin, "right as a fiddle." He shook his head. "She's a damned stubborn woman."

"They don't come any better."

His brother was silent a moment, then he said, "So how many days do you think it will be before you can travel?"

"I can travel now."

"How did I know you were going to say that? I think 'now' is pushing it a bit."

"But Julia…!"

"I'm as worried about her as you are, but you passing out and falling off the wagon seat is not going to help her in any way." Adam glanced out the window. "Look, Joe, it's almost night. How about we see how you're feeling in the morning?"

"I'll feel fine."

His brother turned back to him. "I'll wake you just after dawn and we'll see, shall we?"

"I said, I'll feel fine," he insisted between gritted teeth.

"Mm-hm. Oh, and Joe?"

"What?"

"Just in case you need to use the privy in the middle of the night, I'll be sleeping in front of the door."

ooooo

To be continued….

ooooo