Difficult Roads – chapter one

ooooooooo

"Hey, Adam! Slow down!"

The call caused him to rein in his mount, but not his anger. Twenty-two-year-old Adam Cartwright waited – back straight, legs straining in his stirrups, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed – for his younger brother to catch up.

"Old Sport's gonna trade you in for a new rider if you keep that pace up, older brother," Hoss said, huffing a little as he drew Chubb to a halt alongside his stable mate. The sixteen-year-old met his fierce gaze and swallowed. "I got me a feelin' you're a mite upset with little brother."

Adam moved his eyes, but nothing else. "A mite."

"Come on, Adam, Little Joe's just –"

"Irresponsible? Reckless? Aggravating?" He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, seeking to master his irritation. "Immature?"

"He's a boy, Adam," Hoss protested.

This time he pivoted in the saddle to look at the teenager. "So was I at ten, but you didn't see me acting this way! When I was Joe's age I…."

"…moved mountains single-handedly with your own bare hands, put up buildings with spit and nails, minded a thousand head of cattle while knittin' the heels for your socks, and cooked and cleaned whilst you done the laundry!" Hoss tossed him a look. "Anyone ever tell you that you got big head, big brother?"

Adam's lips twisted as he considered his brother's words, for he did respect Hoss' opinion.

"I do sound a bit…egotistical at that," he admitted. "But that doesn't let Little Joe off the hook. No matter how young he is, there's simply no excuse for taking off in the middle of a work day –"

"Little Joe didn't just 'take off, Adam," Hoss said softly.

"Oh, come on."

"I mean it, Adam."

"Right." The black-haired man loosed his mount's reins so he could cross his arms over his chest. "I sent Little Joe to the back pasture to fix the fence and when I went by to check on his progress an hour later he was gone."

"You sent Little Joe out to fix the fence right next to that pair of yahoos Pa hired a couple of weeks back. They ain't done nothin' but give little brother grief since they set foot in the yard."

"Who?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"Sears and Shade."

It was autumn and the yearly cattle drive was quickly approaching. They were known for paying above standard wages, so a lot of men came to them for jobs. Pa hired men on early so he could assess each individual and decide whether or not they were trustworthy. Bush Sears and Pratt Shade were two of the most recent. Sears was a long, tall drink of brackish water that left a slightly sour taste in your mouth. He was dark haired, dark-eyed, and tended to wear dark clothes and had, well, a dark look about him. Pratt Shade, ironically, fit his name. He was pale as morning mist with blond hair that tended toward gray and light blue eyes which did the same. He appeared to be little more than Sears' shadow. From what he'd observed of the two men – who were just about his age – they were hard workers and seemed to get along with the other men.

"What did Little Joe do to irritate them?" he asked.

"Dang it, Adam! There you go again, picturin' Joe as the one doin' wrong."

"Because he usually is."

Adam's eyes shifted to his brother's hands where they rested on the saddle horn. Hoss' knuckles were white.

Apparently he wasn't the only Cartwright with a temper.

"Little Joe's just about the hardest worker you'll find, older brother, if you give him somethin' to do that don't make him think you think of him as a kid."

"Mending fences isn't a kid's job. We're all required to do it."

Hoss shook his head. "I can sure enoughsee why little brother wants to pop you on the nose most of the time."

"For making him mend fences, which is a man's job?" He was quite confused.

"For not listenin' to him!" the teenager barked. "You just don't get it, older brother. One plus two don't always equal three."

"They do in this universe."

Hoss let out a sigh. "You take one boy – and the boss' boy at that – and you put him with two cowpokes who just plain don't like kids and you ain't got three, you got trouble!"

It was Adam's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

"You know Little Joe, he ain't the best at keepin' his mouth shut when he thinks somerhin' ain't right or fair. He was workin' on whitewashin' that shed we got in the back when he heard those two talkin' mean about Dan Tollivar, callin' Dan an old man what didn't know nothin' and such. Little Joe, well, he rounded that shack like a house on fire and told them to mind their manners. When they asked him who he was, he told them he was Ben Cartwright's son and they'd better listen to him or his pa'd knock them on their backside and show them the gate."

"Oh, dear…." Adam ran a hand over his face. "Did they hurt him?"

"No, but they dang near scared the bejeezus out of him." Hoss scowled. "I told Joe he ought not to of done what he done, but should of come to one of us. That made him right mad. I told him it weren't 'cause he was little, but 'cause he needed a witness."

"Did you tell Pa?"

His brother shook his head. "Little Joe begged me not too. He told me Pa'd lock him in his room and throw away the key if he thought someone had it in for him." Hoss paused. "I pert near did it myself. Joe's such a little feller. He's a scrapper and he can take care of himself with older boys, but those two…. I don't know, Adam. They make me feel kind of…uneasy."

'Oh, the games we play,' Adam thought to himself. If Joe had told Pa, or Hoss had told him, then most likely Little Joe wouldn't be missing.

"So what happened today? Do you know?"

"First of all, it weren't an hour afore you went lookin' for Joe, it was more like two. I checked in with him before that and he was workin' away, but with one eye on Sears and Shade. I offered to help him finish, but you know Little Joe, he weren't havin' none of that." Hoss shifted uneasily in his saddle. "I kind of gave them two the evil eye, if you know what I mean, and went back to my business…'til I heard you yellin' like the end had come about Little Joe not bein' where he was supposed to be."

Adam chewed his lip for a moment. "Why didn't Little Joe come to me?" He knew the answer, but for some sick sadistic reason he needed to hear it. "Doesn't he trust me?"

"Joe trusts you, Adam, and he loves you, but…."

"But what?"

"Well, right now…he don't like you much."

It was hard. Joe was ten and he was twenty-two. They were more than a decade and worlds apart. His sojourn to college had not helped and, in many ways, they were still rediscovering and redefining their relationship. The little boy who had idol-worshipped him and tailed him like a puppy everywhere he went, who had awakened him in the middle of the night for comfort after one of his frequent night terrors, was no more. In his place was a stubborn and at times sullen pre-teen who thought he knew everything and considered it his God-given duty to challenge everything he said.

"Little Joe don't mean it, Adam. He just…."

He held up a hand. "Yes, he does, and in some ways, I supposed I deserve it. Joe and I have always been on the opposite ends of the pole. Pa says it's because we have so much of our mothers in us. My mother was a quiet, serene, New England beauty, while Marie…."

They were silent a moment.

"I sure do miss her, Adam," Hoss said with a sigh. "Mama, I mean."

He did as well, though he didn't know if he missed Marie's moments of pique, her temper tantrums, or her wild, spontaneous nature – all of which her son had inherited.

Adam drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "Sometimes I wonder if Little Joe and I will ever 'click'. He needed me as a child –"

"He needs you now, Adam. More than you know."

The black-haired man looked at his brother. His lips quirked. "Don't let Joe hear you say that."

"Little Joe, Adam, he's…well…he ain't whole, if you understand what I mean?"

"No. What do you mean?"

"Joe's got all these things churnin' inside of him. He's the baby, so that's hard enough, but he's also like Mama. And he ain't no bigger than a minute. That ain't easy on a feller."

'Neither is being big as a mountain', Adam thought, but he kept the thought to himself.

"Go on."

"You ain't been here. You ain't seen what I seen. You know, after you left, Little Joe had to run to me for everythin' includin' them nightmares of his." The big teen shook his head. "Right after you left they got real bad. Little Joe'd start tossin' and turnin', and then he'd start screamin' and, well, sometimes I couldn't wake him up. He'd yell and yell 'til…." Hoss dropped his head. "I had to slap him a time or two."

He'd done that once. It was one of the most horrible moments in his life – slapping a four year old.

"He couldn't wake up."

"Doc Martin called them 'night terrors'. Adam, they was awful."

"Did Joe tell you what they were about?"

"Dyin'. Mama dyin', Pa dyin' – you and me dyin'. And every time Little Joe was the one to blame."

"Was it ever Joe himself dying?" he asked, remembering his own experience.

Hoss nodded. "That too, though not so much as the other. Mostly Pa. Adam, Joe's got it in his head Pa's gonna die and it's gonna be his fault. And he can't do nothin' about it, so that makes him mad." The big teen hesitated. "I got curious, so I got me a book."

His brows peaked. Hoss was not much of a reader. "Oh?"

"Doc Martin gave it to Pa and Pa gave it to me. I cain't understand much of it, but there's a part that talks about dreams. The man what wrote it says what we're feelin' and cain't or won't talk about comes out in them."

"Has Joe talked to Pa about his fear?"

Hoss let out a whistle. "Little Joe admittn' he's afraid of somethin'? You talkin' about the same little brother I got?"

"Point taken." Adam chuckled, but sobered quickly. He'd never known his mother, but he'd been formed by her loss never-the-less. His way of coping had been to become very quiet and to think things through to their nth degree; that way he could always be in control. Little Joe's loss of Marie, at such a young age, had taken his brother in a completely opposite direction. It was as if the little boy cursed the fates and was determined he would right the wrong they had done him – no matter what the cost. Of the three of them, Hoss had survived the best, though his mother's loss had touched him with a gentle sadness. Still, it was God's grace that the giant teen was there to act as a buffer between him and his baby brother.

Adam looked ahead. "So where do you think he's gone?"

"I imagine Little Joe's at the lake or by Mama's grave."

Both lay in the direction they were heading. "Okay. We may as well be on our way."

"What're you gonna do when we find him?" Hoss asked.

What was he going to do? Chastise Joe? Yell at him? Grab the kid and hug him tight and never let him go?

"That's up to Little Joe."

ooooooooooo

The relief Adam felt when he spied the little scamp sitting on the muddy ground by Marie's tombstone – his knees pulled to his chest and his curly head tucked into his arms – was palpable. In some ways, having a baby brother – and at age twenty-two, ten seemed like a baby – had pushed him in the direction of never getting married or having children. He didn't know how Pa did it, worrying each and every time they walked out of the door. It wasn't that they were incapable of looking out for themselves. Even Joe, young as he was, had been trained in the harsh realities of the West. The problem was the West itself. It could turn a placid day into a tempest in a heartbeat and take a mountain and roll it into mud and send it crashing down without warning. Brigands and villains and other evil men who had made a name for themselves in the East came out West in order to leave that name behind – and make a new, more vile one for themselves. There was no such thing as a pleasant walk in the sun. There were chuck holes and cliff edges that crumbled without warning. The land was populated by danger; venomous snakes, wolves, cougars and grizzlies were everywhere. What would have been a stroll in the park in Boston here, in the Nevada territory, was a deadly gauntlet.

Between the Ponderosa and this serene and sacred spot, death dogged every man – or boy's – steps.

"You can save it. I know I'm in trouble," came the small, somewhat petulant voice.

Hoss tossed him a look. He didn't speak, but the teenager's eyes said it all. 'Go easy on him. He's hurtin'.'

Adam nodded and then dismounted. He walked with slow, deliberate steps to his little brother's side and crouched on the rain-soaked ground. The black-haired man counted to ten – partly to stem his rising temper, but mostly to calm his rapidly beating heart. He wanted to reach out and touch the boy the way he would have just a few years back. If this had happened then, he would have gathered Joe in his arms. His brother would have sniffed and snorted and made excuses and then admitted he was wrong and snuggled in.

Not anymore.

Now, Joe was coiled tight as a spring. A single touch would set him off.

"Little Joe," he said and waited.

"Go away."

"Well, now, I don't think Hoss and I came all the way out here just to go away. Do you?"

That brought the curly head up. Joe glanced at Hoss and then back at him. He ran his sleeve under his nose and sniffed.

"What're you gonna do?" he asked.

"Well, not tell Pa that you just used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe your nose," he said.

That brought a little smile.

Very little.

Adam could see the wheels turning behind those large green eyes. "You ain't mad?" Joe asked.

He thought a moment. "I won't be, if you answer one question honestly for me. Okay?"

Little brother looked wary. "What question?" he asked.

"Joe. Why did you run?"

There was a subtle shift in tension. It progressed through Joe's body to his jaw, thrust his lower lip out, and caused his nostrils to flare.

"I figured you'd think I got tired of doin' my work and just left."

"That's not an answer. That's a supposition."

Little Joe's eyes flicked to Hoss where he stood now, some six or so feet away. Something passed between them that he wasn't privy too. It was that way with his younger brothers. They were like two halves of one soul.

"I s'pose old blabber-mouth over there told you," Joe groused.

Hoss just smiled.

Adam pushed his hat back an inch or so. "Why don't you tell me?"

Little Joe let out a sigh; a long, loud sigh that spoke of so many things – his desire to be like the two of them, his hope that one day he would outgrow being the baby; his wish to be his own man.

"Little Joe, there ain't nothin' wrong with tellin' Adam the truth. It don't mean you're any less of a man."

Joe's lips were clamped tightly together.

"Joe, you can tell me or you can tell Pa," Adam said, placing emphasis on the final word.

His brother let out another sigh. "Them two – "

"Those two."

Joe looked at Hoss again, who said, "You listen to older brother, he's got a better way with words than me. You're gonna need them one day when it comes to spoonin' girls."

The disgusted look on their little brother's face made them both laugh.

"Those two," Joe began again. "Sears and Shade. I guess I made them mad…or something."

Adam shifted so he was sitting on the ground beside his brother. One thing he had learned from taking a turn at dramatics in college, was that the one in the highest position had the advantage – and was perceived to hold the most power. He didn't want to intimidate the kid by his pose. Apparently he did it enough just by existing.

"How did you make them mad?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Joe blurted out. Little brother ran a hand through his curls, shoving them back from his forehead. "I was mending the fence just like you said. One of them, Shade, I think, made a crack about me being…little."

"Did you say something back?"

"No," Joe bit off, "I didn't. At least, not that time."

So he had mouthed-off.

"Go on."

"I just started working harder. They kept ribbing me and I guess I started getting mad. I threw the hammer down and turned…to….leave…."

"Did you hit one of them with it?" Hoss asked. Obviously this was news to him.

"No! It didn't come anywhere near him, but he…he…." Joe shivered. Those wide, expressive eyes fixed on him. "Adam he scared me. So I ran."

"I see," he said as he rose. "I'll just have a little talk with the two of them and –"

Joe shot to his feet beside him. "Adam! No! Just leave it alone. They didn't do anything…not really."

It was those last two words that bothered him.

"Joe," he said as he reached out a hand to steady his kid brother. "If one of those men threatened Hoss – or any of our workers – I would have to do something about it. This has nothing to do with your age or size, and all to do with respect for our father. You've seen hands fired before for less."

"You're not gonna fire them, are you?!"

"That will depend on how they answer."

Little Joe's eyes were wide. There was a lot going on in their emerald depths. There was fear, which troubled him, but also a kind of pride – the pride that he was Ben Cartwright's son and no one had the right to treat him that way.

Adam watched his brother a moment before asking, "Do you want to be there when I question them?"

Joe blanched. He swallowed hard. "Do I have to?"

"No, but it's always best for a man to be confronted by his accuser."

"Is that what I am? An…accuser?"

"In a way. Joe, if you aren't there, then Sears and Shade can tell me anything they want and there will be no one to refute it. Do you understand?"

Joe nodded slowly. "Okay. I guess I better be there then."

Adam didn't really understand why, but touch was not a natural part of him. Little Joe needed it as surely as air. Reaching out, he placed a hand on his little brother's shoulder.

"Joe, you've just taken one more step toward becoming a man. I'm proud of you."

It took a second, but then the kid stood straight as a cock surveying his brood.

"I won't let you down, Adam. I promise."

"I know you won't. Now, you go get Cadfan from wherever you've hidden him, and let's get home. You're soaked through and I don't want you getting sick."

As Joe scrambled into the trees, Hoss came to his side. "You did real good, older brother," he said. "You're gonna make a good pa one day."

Adam's gaze went to his younger brother as Joe reappeared leading his mount.

Or maybe not.

oooooooooo

Joe thought confronting Sears and Shade would be just about the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. So it surprised him when they were pretty nice about everything. He and Adam went into the barn early that morning to talk to them while the pair were about their chores. The two men had a lot of experience with horses and Pa had set them to care for and break the half-dozen or so now in the corral. Sears had the most experienced at breaking, but Shade had done it before. The blond man said he didn't really like it much 'cause of how it made the horses feel.

That made Joe like him even more.

It made him real nervous when Adam started talking about what happened. Before older brother could finish, Sears held up a hand to stop him. He quickly apologized for 'losing his head', as he put it, and admitted the two of them had been giving him a lot of grief. He said they both had younger brothers at home and were used to giving them a hard time and such. When Joe got to thinking about it, what the pair did really wasn't all that different from how Hoss and Adam treated him when they were feeling ornery.

"Sorry, kid," Sears said with an easy smile. "Guess I forgot you don't know us all that well."

Joe nodded. "It's okay. Sorry I got riled."

"There's one last thing I'd like explained," Adam said, his hand planted firmly on his shoulder so he couldn't bolt and run. "What is this about a hammer?"

Shade winced. "That was me."

"Did you think Joe was trying to hit you?"

The blond was incredulous. "Heck, no. I was worried about him. You could tell he…." He hesitated. "Sorry, kid, I don't mean to talk about you like you aren't here. I could see you were buildin' up a good head of steam. I was afraid you were gonna hurt yourself." Shade turned to him. "It about stopped my heart when the kid swing-mounted onto that horse and took off like a house on fire!"

Adam was looking at him now. "Is that how it happened, Joe?"

Joe chewed his lip. It was…and it wasn't. Shade was mad, but he was pretty sure it wasn't about him getting hurt. He didn't really know what it was that had set the man off, but he didn't really see any reason to prolong the agony this interview was bringing him.

Joe shrugged his shoulders. "I guess."

"You 'guess' or it is?"

Little Joe's gaze moved from Shade to Sears and back again. There was something. He didn't know what it was, but they were grown-ups and he was a kid and, in the end, what they said would be what everyone believed.

"It is."

Adam stared at him a moment longer before nodding his head. "Okay. We'll leave it at that…for now." His gaze moved to the two men standing before them. "Let's shake on it like men and get back to work."

Shade moved toward him, his hand outstretched. "Sorry again, kid," he said.

Sears did the same. "Yeah, sorry," the dark man agreed and then added, "I promise we'll play nice the next time we see you."

Joe felt a chill run down his spine. Adam moved him away and handed him a pitchfork before he had time to decide whether it was because he felt insulted.

Or because he was afraid.

oooooooooo

Adam stood on the porch looking out toward the Virginia City road. He had a cup of coffee in his hand – and nearly spilled it when giant-sized hand slapped him on the back.

"Waitin' for Pa?" Hoss asked.

It had been another usual evening for the three Cartwright brothers. Their father was in the settlement. Pa had several business meetings to attend and deals to cinch and expected he would be a few days. That left him in charge for the duration, which was fine when it came to the ranch.

Dealing with his little brother was another matter.

As expected, Joe had been in a mood when they came in for supper. The kid was so transparent, it almost made him laugh. Almost. Laughing tonight would definitely have been a poor choice where Joe was concerned. Little brother sighed – more than once – and kept looking off in the direction of the barn. He drummed the fingers of his right hand on the table while he pushed his uneaten food around on his plate with his left. His lithe frame was taut as an arrow ready to be shot from the bow.

And they both knew why.

Hoss was just finishing a mouth of mashed potatoes. He glanced at Joe, who wasn't paying attention, and then winked at him before speaking. "You know, 'fore he left, I heard Pa tell Bush that those new horses would be just right for the army contract he's negotiatin'."

Little brother's fork skidded to a halt on his plate.

"They'd just about finish out the number we need," he agreed as he put his napkin down.

"There's some good stock there," Hoss went on, looking sideways at Little Joe. "Like that piebald pinto. She's sharp as a whip."

"She'd do some soldier proud, that's for sure," Adam continued on as Hop Sing appeared to refill his coffee cup. "Thank you, Hop Sing."

The Asian man nodded, a smile on his face – until he saw Little Joe's plate. "Skinny boy need to eat! Number three son want to be big and strong as brothers, he need eat!"

Adam hid his smile behind his cup. "I think little brother has other things on his mind, Hop Sing."

"Hop Sing not care. Boy need to empty mind and fill belly!"

With that pronouncement, their cook turned and disappeared into the kitchen wing leaving a long line of Cantonese coloring the air behind him.

Seizing the opportunity, Joe asked, "Can I go?"

Adam eyed his brother's plate. It was…maybe…half-finished. "How about you fork down the rest of your potatoes first?"

"I wanted to…. I really need to go out to the barn, Adam. I got chores to do before bed."

Hoss reached over and scooped half of Joe's potatoes from his plate. "You're gonna need muscle for them chores, little brother. You eat what's left."

Joe shoved the white pile around again. "Do I have to?" he asked, looking up through a fringe of curls.

Adam nodded. "Yes, you have to. Pa'd skin me as it is if he knew how much food I've let you throw away while he's been gone."

"Hop Sing gives it to the pigs," Joe insisted.

"Oink! Oink!" Hoss declared.

There were six bites left on Little Joe's plate. "Four," he ordered, pointing toward the mound.

Joe rolled his eyes, scooped up all four at once, and shoved them in his mouth. He looked like a ground squirrel preparing for winter.

"Nw cn I gah?" he asked.

Adam wanted to roll his eyes too, but resisted.

"Yes, you can go."

Little Joe was out the door before he had time to finish the sentence.

"It's that pinto, you know? I think Joe's in love," Hoss said as he washed the last of the potatoes down with a glass of milk.

He knew. Ever since the black and white piebald mare had been brought in, they always knew where to find their little brother. In fact, that was why he had set him to repairing the corral fence, so he could watch her. 'Poor Cadfan', he thought. Little brother was fickle in his affections.

"Pa's noticed too," the big teen added.

"We've talked about it. Joe's birthday is coming up in a few weeks. I thought she'd make a good present." Adam let out a sigh. "The pinto is a little big for Joe, but he'd grow into her pretty fast. You know Pa, he's worried about it. He can't help but think of Marie."

"That boy's got an awful lot heaped on them skinny shoulders of his," Hoss replied.

He loved his father deeply, but if Ben Cartwright had a blind spot, it was Joseph Francis Cartwright. His mother, Elizabeth, was the first woman Pa had loved and would always hold a special place in the older man's heart. Inger, in some ways, had been Pa's heart, bringing him back to the man he had been before his mother's death. Marie? Ah, Marie…. The New Orleans beauty had been used and abused by the world and, as such, needed protecting. Pa had done his best to keep her safe, but he'd failed, plain and simple. While Marie had many things to recommend her, Pa's last wife had been a willful child in many ways and no more so than when she insisted on riding a horse too large and too temperamental for her. Since Pa had failed to protect Marie, he was bound and determined to protect her son. At ten, Joe chomped at the bit and tested his muscle now and then.

Heaven help them when he turned eighteen!

Adam nodded. "I've watched the mare with Joe. They seem to have an affinity for one another."

"A what?" Hoss asked as he reached for the remainder of the biscuits.

"A spontaneous or natural liking," he said and meant it. "I think we both need to…." Adam trailed off as he noticed Hop Sing scurrying in from the kitchen.

"What is it, Hop Sing?" Hoss asked as he rose from his chair.

"Noise, outside. Much noise! Something upset horses."

Adam exchanged a look with his brother as he headed for the door. He was sure Little Joe was with the horses and with the pinto in particular. Joe loved horses. He knew what to do around them.

"What do you suppose is goin' on?" Hoss asked.

"I don't know, but we'll find out as soon as –"

Adam had opened the door. He could hear the horses, squealing and shrieking with fear. There was another sound as well. One that gripped his entrails in a fist.

Little Joe was shrieking too.

oooooooooo