FIVE

oooooooooo

"Pa?"

The weak and trembling voice jolted Ben awake. He glanced out the window, noting the time, and then shifted onto the bed beside his hurting son. Hoss had come to get him because Joseph was awake. By the time he arrived, Little Joe had lapsed back into silence, and so he had taken a position in the chair beside the bed and sat there as the day wore into night. Up until this moment the boy had slept as one dead.

He had slept too as he was finally at peace with the choices he'd made.

Paul Martin had returned to Virginia City with the sun and, after stopping at his office, hastened to the hotel to check on the young man he called his 'favorite patient'. The first thing the physician did was assure him that, though gruff, Doctor Fields was an excellent diagnostician and Joseph had been in good hands. Paul roused Little Joe long enough to ask him a few questions and poke a few places before giving him a potion so he could sleep. He'd watched his friend as he worked and seen him scowl when he examined the bruising on Little Joe's abdomen and back.

Paul had seen him watching and told him it was simply too soon to know.

After the doctor left, he'd returned to his chair to keep a silent vigil and fallen asleep.

Ben reached out to touch his son's cheek. It was one of the few places where Joseph's handsome face remained undamaged.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he said.

His son looked puzzled, and then frightened – and then panic entered Little Joe's eyes.

"Take it easy." He placed a hand on Joe's shoulder. "You're fine."

"Pa…." Joe wet his lips. His voice was robbed of all strength. "I…can't see!"

"Son. Take a deep breath." Little Joe obeyed as he did the same. Doctor Fields had feared for the boy's sight and said Joe could be blinded.

Was that to be the case?

His son's fingers clawed at his wrist. "Pa…!"

"It's dark in here, Joseph, and you've been sleeping." The sun had gone down only a moment before. "Let me turn up the light." Without removing his son's hand, Ben lit the lamp. It was a challenge, but he managed it one-handed. "Can you see anything?"

Joe's grip tightened. He shook his head.

Ben thumbed the wheel, bringing up the light. "Now?"

The boy's fingers were digging into his flesh. They relaxed slightly. "I can see…something, Pa. It's…." Little Joe sucked air in through his swollen lips. "There's orange…red…."

He turned the lamp up a bit more, so the light filled the room. "How about me? Joseph, can you see me?"

His son turned his battered face toward him. Fully revealed by the light the sight was enough to sicken not only Ben's stomach, but his heart. Overnight the bruising had intensified, and what wasn't bruised was torn and swollen. Still, the anguished father held still.

"Joseph?"

Joe's beautiful, pain-filled green eyes fastened on him. A heartbeat later the tears overflowed.

"Pa…."

He so wanted to hug him. Joseph, like his mother, was a tactile creature. His youngest boy lived for touch. Still, the rancher was terrified that the action would bring his son more pain, so he remained where he was.

As if reading his mind, Little Joe's fingers shifted to his sleeve. They urged him closer.

"Joseph, no. I don't want to…."

More tears fell.

There had been a time, when Joseph was young and before his mother died, that the boy had climbed a tree. They'd been on a picnic and he and Marie had become otherwise…occupied. By the time he looked up, the tiny boy was twenty feet in the air. When Joseph looked down and saw him, a brilliant smile had plumped his chubby cheeks and he had let go, knowing he would catch him. He had, but the boy's weight knocked him from his feet. They had rolled – his greater weight tumbling over and over the child. When they stopped, he'd been afraid to touch his son for fear something was broken and he would injure him further.

As he was afraid now.

Joseph's lip trembled. "Pa…please…."

Words came to him. Spoken long ago, by someone he could not remember. 'What a grand and beautiful force, the immense and wildly unappreciated power of human touch.'

Fear be damned!

Ben reached forward and gently slipped his arms under his son's ravaged form and began to lift him. Little Joe whimpered as he did it, but sucked in the sound so he would not stop. Just like the time when the boy had been four, he gingerly and gently began to pull Joseph to his chest and, just as the boy had done at the time, his son flung himself into his arms and gripped him tightly.

His tears fell as well.

They sat there for some time, quietly weeping but saying nothing. Joseph was the first to stir. His son's face had been buried in his shirt. Little Joe turned it and rested his cheek on his arm.

"Pa?"

The fingers of one hand were buried in the boy's matted curls. The other surrounded his slender waist.

"Yes, son."

"I want to go home."

"Joseph. I don't think that's wise. Paul said –"

The boy straightened up. He bit back a groan and then sat for a moment with his eyes closed before speaking again.

"Please, Pa. I…want to go home. I'll…heal…better at home."

"Joe –"

His son's fingers bit into his arms. "Pa. I need to…go home. I don't…" Those wide green eyes grew wild. "He's…." Little Joe's gaze shot to the window. His voice fell off to a whisper. "He's out there."

"Who? Joseph, who?"

Ben sucked in a breath at the boy's look. Then, the truth dawned.

Regan.

The rancher's jaw grew tight as a the love of a father and the need for justice warred within him. Still, Ben fought to keep his voice calm. "He's gone, Joe. Regan ran like the coward he is."

Joe's face was once again buried in his shirt front. The boy's fingers clutched the fabric. Joe was shaking. His vibrant, strong, and proud son's voice was hushed with fear.

No, with terror.

"No, Pa. He's there. He's…waiting for me."

"Joseph, look at me."

Little Joe's head shook against his chest. "He told me…Pa. He told me…if he didn't…kill me…." His son sucked in air. "He'd…come back."

"Regan was just trying to frighten you, son." Ben stroked the boy's curls and spoke soothingly. "He's gone. He and Adah left."

The boy's head came up. A pale hope entered his eyes "He's…really gone?"

Ben nodded. "Yes, son," he assured him. "John C. Regan is gone."

At least, he hoped he was.

oooooooooo
To protect his son's dignity, they left for home after dark.

Joseph was soon to be eighteen; not a boy, but not quite a man. The only way he would agree to his older brother carrying him out to the wagon was if they did it when no one was around to see, and the only way Paul would agree to them taking Joseph back to the Ponderosa, was if Hoss carried him down the hotel steps.

He doubted the boy could have made it on his own.

As was often the case, the day following an injury was twice as hard and a hundred times more painful. Thankfully, the bruising on his son's abdomen had eased. That was the only reason Paul agreed to their scheme. Of course, Paul brought the boy into the world and had tended him since birth, so he well knew Joseph's disposition. The boy was high-strung and easily upset just like his mother. Once the physician understood the nature of Joseph's fears, he agreed that taking the boy home could very well prove the best medicine.

As for him, Ben was concerned that his boy's physical wounds would prove the least of their worries.

His youngest was a study in contradictions – fearless in order to overcome his fears, prone to riotous laughter that often led to tears; extremely talkative – so much so that his older brothers had been known to tie him to a stake and gag him while playing a 'game' when young, just for a moment of peace. And yet Little Joe could be quiet. Intensely quiet.

As he was now.

Hoss gave him a nod as he cast an anxious look at his baby brother. They'd stepped a few yards away from the wagon after settling Joe in. Paul was talking to him now, giving the boy a few last minute instructions.

"Little Joe ain't said nothin', Pa. You think he's just tired?"

He gave out a little sigh. "I think he's holding everything inside."

"About bein' beat, you mean?"

Ben placed a hand on his giant of a son's arm. There were a few fading bruises here and there, left over from his fight with Regan, but for the most part, his middle boy was entirely recovered and he thanked God for that.

"In part," he replied. "As you know, Joseph holds himself up against you and Adam."

His son scowled. "You mean, Little Joe thinks he ain't a man 'cause Regan whupped him? Pa, I'm surprised he didn't kill him!"

They were all surprised – and thankful.

"You know your brother. The fact that the man outweighed him by nearly two hundred pounds and was nearly a foot taller means nothing. But that's not what I'm talking about."

Hoss was looking at his brother again. Paul was stepping down out of the wagon and Little Joe had turned his face so it was hidden beneath the covers.

"There's something else?"

Ben hesitated. If he mentioned Joe's fears about Regan returning to Hoss, then Hoss would tell Adam. He preferred to inform them both at the same time, so they could work out a strategy.

The rancher nodded. "But now is not the time to go into it. It's a long ride out to the Ponderosa and it's going to be hard on your brother. We'll get Little Joe home and get him settled and then you and Adam and I can talk."

"Has this got somethin' to do with that there monster what did this to him?" Hoss asked, his tone more a growl than an inquiry.

Ben patted his son's arm. "We'll talk about it later. First, let's get your brother home."

oooooooooo

Adam met them at the door. He had no idea how his eldest son knew they were coming, other than the fact that he might have heard their approach – although the fact that Adam was dressed seemed to indicate that he had been waiting and some sixth sense had alerted him to their plans.

Or perhaps it had been Providence.

It was very early in the morning when they arrived. So early not even Hop Sing was up. As they rolled in, the shadows departed and the golden glow that heralded the new day topped the mountain peaks and spilled over into the yard. As he'd predicted, the ride to the spread had been extremely hard on his wounded son. Though they'd tried their best to keep the wagon level and traveled at a snail's pace, Joseph had moaned and cried out as it bumped along the road, jostling his battered and broken form. The boy bit his lip through in an attempt to stem the tears, but they'd fallen anyway, trailing down his cheeks to wet the collar of his bloodied shirt.

He still wore the remnants of his fine suit. They'd had nothing else to change him into.

Hoss had unhitched the team and was putting the animals in the barn. Joseph had fallen asleep just as they wheeled into the yard and he'd decided to let the boy be for a few minutes before rousing him and taking him inside. Adam watched Hoss go and then walked over to the wagon where he stood now, staring at his younger brother.

It was early and the light was sketchy at best, but Ben recognized the look on his eldest's face. He recognized it, because it had been written on his own not all that long before.

He waited until Adam glanced his way and then signaled him over. After greeting him, quietly, speaking as much to himself as to his son, he said, "Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord."

Adam's jaw was set. His whiskey-colored eyes locked on his and he quoted back, "I sought my soul, but my soul I could not see. I sought my God, but my God eluded me. I sought my brother and I found all three."

He was deeply touched – and deeply concerned – by the fervor of his eldest's emotion.

Adam drew a breath and let it out slowly. "I'm going to kill him, Pa. For what…for Joe. I swear I'm going to kill Regan."

Ben nodded slowly. "I want to kill him too."

For a moment, his son's face registered surprise. Then he nodded.

"Adam, Regan is gone."

The boy considered that a moment. "You're sure?"

"Yes. Adah left tonight. I saw her go. She was alone."

"I'm sorry, Pa. I know she meant a lot to you."

Ben shook his head. "If she did, it's over now."

"But how can you be sure Regan is gone?"

"Because he is a coward." Ben's fingers formed into a fist. "Only a coward could do what…that monster…did to your brother. Regan knows I would set the law on him. He's done this before – broken that law…killed men. He would have gone to jail. He will go to jail if he ever dares to set his foot in Virginia City again!"

Ben noted Adam was looking behind him. He turned to find Hoss standing at his shoulder. "You want me to get Little Joe and take him up to his room, Pa?" the big man asked.

"I suppose he's slept long enough. Hoss, be…." Ben turned to look at Adam. His son had placed a hand on his arm. "Yes?"

"I'll get Joe."

"I can do it, Adam. Little Joe's dead weight…." Hoss winced,

Adam looked his brother in the eye and then him. "I'll get Little Joe."

Hoss started to speak, but Ben stopped him with a nudge. Before he could say anything further, Adam turned on his heel and went to the wagon.

"You want I should drop the back for him, Pa?" Hoss asked.

"That will be fine."

The big man took a step. "Pa? What's wrong with Adam?"

Marie had been exhausted. In order to allow her to sleep after Joseph's birth, he had taken his tiny and rather vocal newborn son to the next room and laid the baby in the middle of the guest bed. He'd returned then to his wife's side and, without knowing it, fallen asleep as well. When he woke, he dashed – with great guilt and fear – to the other room to check on his third child and found Joseph wasn't alone. Twelve-year-old Adam was there. His eldest son lay on the bed with his youngest in his arms.

Adam was singing.

xxxxxx

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby boy.

When you wake, you shall have,

All the pretty little horses.

Blacks and bays, dapples and greys,

Go to sleepy you little baby,

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby,

When you wake, you shall have,

All the pretty little horses.
xxxxxx

Adam leaned over and kissed his brother's curls, for Joseph had them even then.

"I will always be there for you," the boy said with an intensity that had almost frightened him. "No one…no one will ever hurt you, I'll keep you safe, little Joseph. I promise."

And Adam was a man of his word.

oooooooooo