SEVEN

ooooooooo

Hoss jerked awake at the sound of a door opening somewhere in the distance. He listened as the footsteps grew closer. A second door opened, this one closer to him and the footsteps continued. Then they stopped and light struck his blindfolded eyes. It crept through the cloth that covered them and made him squint. Several pounding heartbeats later a second set of footsteps sounded along the corridor.

When they stopped, a gruff voice asked, "In here?"

"Yeah, put him with the other one." The man moved. Hoss felt a boot brush his leg. "Brought you some company, kid."

There were muffled sounds, like someone shouting through a gag. Hoss felt a pair of boots connect hard with his leg on their way past. The man cursed as he dropped someone to the floor a few feet away.

"Shut up, kid," the man ordered. "Or I'll shut you up for good."

There was the sound of a slap. The talking stopped. The light and two pair of footsteps receded.

Then, there was silence.

Except that, whoever the man had left behind, had started cryin'. He was guessin' by the sound that they was pretty young.

"Hey," Hoss said, "hey!". When there was no response, he said it louder. "Hey! Now, you cut that out, you hear?"

The snifflin' came faster and then stopped. It was followed by a little sigh.

"You're okay," the big teen said. "You ain't alone. I'm here."

There was another more desperate sound, like the cry of a wounded puppy.

"I know it's scary in here. I ain't too fond of the dark myself. But it's okay. At least we got each other."

There was a new sound, kind of like a dog scratchin' at the door. Whoever his new cell mate was, they was draggin' themselves across the stone floor to his side. They was breathin' real hard while they did it. Hoss breathed right along with them, willin' them on. It must have took a good five minutes afore he felt somethin' bump up against his thigh. Then somethin' happened that confused him. A pair of hands – dirty and bound together from elbow to wrist – reached up to touch his face.

"Hmrs?" a muffled voice asked.

He was surprised by the size of the fingers touchin' his chin. They was awful small. He couldn't believe it, but them goldarn varmints had kidnapped some little kid and brung him here to keep his folks from findin' him!

"It's okay," he said again. "I may not look like much right now, but I promise I'll get us out of here." Hoss gulped.

Somehow, he thought.

The kid sighed real loud and then started gruntin'. Them little fingers of his gripped his shirt and used it to pull him up higher. For a minute Hoss thought maybe the kid had gone crazy, but then he realized what they was aimin' for. The kid turned his back to him and leaned in. Hoss felt the knot of a gag press against his lips.

It tickled.

Whoever it was, they sure had a lot of hair. That was a good thing cause it left some wiggle room between the gag and the back of the kid's skull. As the big teen gripped the knot with his teeth and began to pull down, the kid reached up to try to help. Those varmints had done tied the ropes so tight, all the kid could do was move their fingers. It took some doin', and about ten minutes, but finally – together – they managed to loosen the knot enough that the gag fell down around the kid's neck. A second later they spit something out. Probably a wad of cloth. He heard 'em gag and swallow several times.

"Hey," the big teen said after a few heartbeats, "you okay? You ain't hurt yourself or nothin'?"

"Of course…." The kid cleared his throat. "Of course, I'm okay, you big galoot! What took you so long?"

Hoss was stunned into silence. For a heartbeat or two.

"Little Joe?"

"Well, I ain't the man in the iron mask!" his little brother snapped. Little Joe's bravado faded away very quickly as his brother's fingers took hold of his shirt again. "It is you, Hoss? Isn't it? I can't see you."

"Goldarnit, little brother! What're you doin' down here?" Hoss paused as the full implications of his brother bein' at his side sunk in. "What are you doin' out of bed? Little Joe! Can you walk?"

His brother grunted as he drew closer to him. "No. It was Bush Sears. He took me out of my bed." He sniffed again. "I still…. I still can't feel my legs, Hoss."

That was stupid. Makin' him think about it.

Well, in for a penny.

"Did he hurt you, Little Joe? Is your back painin' you?"

There was silence.

"Joe?"

"Uh-huh."

"Damn him," he cursed. "Little Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"Do Pa and Adam know you're gone?"

"I don't know." Joe's voice quavered. "I was sleepin' on the settee last I knew. Pa gave me one of those powders. I…. I couldn't wake up. I thought…." His little brother squeezed in even closer. "I thought I was dreaming." There was a pause. His brother's voice grew even smaller. "Hoss, where are we? What are they gonna do with us?"

If there was one thing Bush Sears was gonna burn in Hell for eternity for, it was the fact that his hands were tied and he couldn't hold his brother!

"I don't know, Little Joe," Hoss replied, careful to keep his tone calm. "I guess they just want to keep us somewhere for a while where Pa and Adam cain't find us."

"Are they gonna give us back?"

The big teen winced. He hoped he didn't burn in Hell for lyin'. "Sure thing, Little Joe. They'll give us back once Pa does what they want."

"What do they want?"

He had to do somethin' to get the kid's mind off of the predicament they were in. "Little Joe?"

"Yeah."

"You can wiggle them skinny little fingers of yours, right?"

"My arms are tied together."

"But I felt them on my face. You can wiggle the tips."

"I can…just. What do you want me to do with 'em?"

Hoss was thinkin'. He could feel some play in the ropes that bound him to the beam. He'd been workin' them while he was alone in the dark before Little Joe showed up. The rope felt kind of old and he wasn't sure – if he could get the right angle on it – that he couldn't snap it. Maybe Joe could reach around him and….

"Little Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you get your arms behind me?"

There was a soft grunt as he tried. "Kind of."

He could 'hear' the sound of his brother's teeth pressed into his lip. "It hurts, don't it?"

There was a pause. "Yeah."

"Little Joe, now you listen to me. I don't want you doin' nothin' that puts no strain on your back. You hear? But see if you can pull yourself up real close to me and get your fingers under the rope that's 'round my wrists. Do you think you can do that?"

There were more grunts. Then Joe let out a cry.

"Joseph, you stop now!"

His brother gulped in air before replying. "But I gotta get you lose."

"You don't gotta do nothin' but take care of yourself, little brother. Those bad men…." He sucked in his anger. "They shouldn't ought to have moved you."

Joe's voice was pinched. "I know."

"You gotta take care of yourself."

A sigh. "I know. But…."

"No buts."

"But the end of the rope is hanging down. I can feel it. Maybe if I pull it?"

His brother's words were a ray of hope. Had he already managed to work the end free?

"Can you do it without hurtin' yourself?"

"Sure…well…it won't hurt…much." Little Joe started and then he stopped.

"Joe?"

"Hoss, are we gonna die here?"

He could hear it in his brother's voice. Little Joe was beginning to panic. "Joseph, if you aren't tellin' me the truth. If you're hurtin' your back more…."

"I am, Hoss. I am telling the truth. I promise."

"Okay. Okay. Give it a try then. But don't you push yourself!"

He could only imagine his brother's position. Little Joe's skinny legs were stretched out beside his. The boy had to have his torso twisted like a pretzel for him to reach around behind and grab the rope. All the big teen could do as his ten-year-old brother grunted and gasped was pray that the Doc was wrong and that Little Joe's verta-whatever wasn't really cracked.

Hoss had vision of hearing a 'snap' in the dark and his baby brother goin' limp as a rag doll.

"I got hold of it, Hoss!"

"Keep your voice down, Little Joe. We don't know if anyone's out there."

"Sorry," he whispered. "Sorry. I got it."

"Can you pull on it?" He felt a tug. "Anything happenin'? Joe?" Hoss waited. "Little Joe, you answer me. I can hear them teeth of yours bitin' into your lip again."

"I'm…okay, Hoss," Joe gasped. "I really want to…."

"You stop now if it's too bad."

"But if I stop I can't…." A little sob escaped him. "Hoss, I really want to feel your arms around me."

The big teen closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the beam as he fought for control. He was gonna need that there light to come back so he could see to pick up the pieces of his heart and put them back together.

"I know you do, Little Joe," he said, fightin' back his own tears. "But I want you to walk again, and –"

For a second, he couldn't believe it. Joe had tugged again and his hands were free! Hoss dragged his blindfold down around his neck and then began to rub them together to bring back the circulation. After a moment, he realized Little Joe hadn't moved. He'd kind of expected the kid to fling himself into his arms the moment he was….

Damn.

Hoss reached out with one of his hands and found Joe's leg. He moved up from there to the boy's face.

Tears were streamin' down it.

"Oh, punkin…."

Hoss had been a long time without moving, but the physical pain he felt in his muscles as he pushed them into action was as nothing compared to the soul-deep pain that pierced his heart. The big teen slipped an arm around his little brother's skinny shoulders and gently lifted him onto his lap and then circled him with his arms.

The only sounds in the abandoned mine were that of a slow drip of water and two heartbeats joined as one.

ooooooooo

Hop Sing was devastated – and completely at a loss.

The Asian man sat on Marie's striped settee. He had the note in his hand and stared at it as if it were a snake that would bite him.

"You have no idea what this is about?" Ben asked, slightly exasperated. He felt bad for grilling his friend, but the stakes were too high to go gently. The note had said nothing about ransom or any intention to return his boys. In fact, it was terrifying in its simplicity. He pointed toward the folded piece of paper. "No idea what the note means?"

"Mistah Ben," his cook began, his voice trembling. "Hop Sing only wish he did. He never take any man's children. He never would."

"Do you have any enemies that you know of?" Adam tried. "Anyone who might want to…use Joe and Hoss against you?"

He shook his head. "No enemies. Hop Sing friend of every man."

It was true, though there were plenty of bigoted white men in the area who did not reciprocate that feeling.

A chill snaked down his spine as Ben looked at his oldest son. "Adam, it's clear you are a target as well. Whoever this is simply hasn't found the opportunity to…take you yet."

"I'd be harder to take, Pa, and they know it. I'm a man. Hoss and Little Joe are just boys. These cowards…." His son's jaw clenched. "If they hurt…. I'll kill them, Pa. I'll just….kill them."

They'd talked over sending for Robert or Roy, but there was even less the lawmen could do than they themselves. There was no trail to follow. Whoever had taken Joseph had been expert at masking their tracks, and Hoss… Hoss had simply disappeared.

"Hop Sing, show me the note again," Adam said as he reached out. He studied it a moment, "Everyone knows that you work for us, Hop Sing. But who would know you well enough to know that you consider the three of us your children?"

The Asian man blushed. "Hop Sing would never presume…"

The rancher brought his hand down on his friend's shoulder. "It's all right, old friend. We consider you family as well."

"Only Hop Ling and honorable brothers and sisters know this one so well," their cook said. "Perhaps honorable cousins who come to visit. No one else."

"I think that's an important clue, Pa," his eldest insisted. "Whoever took Hoss and Little Joe has to know Hop Sing, or know someone connected to him. How else would they know that he was anything other than a hired hand? Or that hurting us would hurt him?"

"That's all well and good, Adam, but it doesn't get us one step closer to figuring out who took your brothers or where they are holding them." Ben rubbed his forehead. He had developed a whopper of a headache. "Joseph isn't well. He needs to be home in his bed, resting and healing. If he loses the ability to walk because of this –"

A small moan escaped the man on the settee.

Ben apologized. "I'm sorry, Hop Sing."

"Mistah Ben right," their cook admitted with a sigh. "All of this Hop Sing's fault."

"As I told Adam earlier, this is no one's 'fault' except the evil men who have perpetuated the crime. Do you understand?"

The Asian man nodded and then dropped his head, unable to meet his eyes.

"So what do we do, Pa?" Adam asked.

Ben let out a sigh. "Have any of the men come back yet?" He'd sent a dozen hands out in every direction to look for signs of Joseph's kidnappers that he might have missed.

Adam walked to the door and opened it. "Not yet."

oooooooooo

It was decided they would go into Gold Hill at the first opportunity. It didn't take much time to issue the needed orders to keep the ranch running. He had good men and they knew what to do. By the time they reached the settlement the blinds were being raised, the bank was opening, and there were people milling about. He and Adam were mounted. Hop Sing followed in a wagon. Together, the three of them were going to the jail to fill Robert Olin and Roy Coffee in on what had happened and request a discreet search party be formed to search for his missing sons. Since there had been no ransom demand – and no command not to inform the law – Ben considered it a prudent thing to do.

The odds were, whoever had his boys, had no intention of returning them.

"Pa?"

He looked at his son. Adam had already dismounted and was tossing his reins over the post.

"Yes?" he asked as he did the same.

The boy was chagrinned. "I hate to ask, but do you think Hop Sing is telling us the whole truth?"

Ben looked back in the direction they had come. He'd been as sympathetic as he could be, but his sons lives were at stake. He had grilled Hop Sing late into the night and then continued to think about his cook's replies long after he'd gone to bed. Always, his answer was the same. He had no idea who would hate him enough to threaten the lives of the two – Ben's gaze flicked to his eldest – of the three boys he loved and had helped to rear as if they were his own.

"Son, we've both known Hop Sing for over ten years now. You know the kind of man he is."

"I do, Pa. But I also know he is a man, and men have secrets. Hop Sing's what, four or five years younger than you?"

Ben nodded.

"So, he's in his mid-forties. That means he was in his early thirties when you hired him." Adam paused. "That's a lot of life to live. How much do we really know about him?"

The rancher had to admit there wasn't much. He took a man as he found him and didn't ask a lot of questions, believing that the past was the past and everyone had a right to a new start – especially in the West.

"I know he lived in Yerba Buena before he came to us," he said. "I believe he arrived there or somewhere close by when he emigrated from China. He's spoken of a school he attended in the area where he learned the culinary arts, as well as an apothecary shop he worked in where he specialized in Chinese medicine."

"But what made him leave Yerba Buena? Do you know?"

Ben shrugged. "I didn't ask."

Adam hesitated. "I understand that, Pa, and I respect it. As I respect Hop Sing. But there's so much we don't know. He would have been old enough by then – more than old enough – to have his own family. The note does mention children."

"But not Hop Sing's children. The children mentioned in the note, Adam, belong to whoever has taken your brothers."

"It accuses Hop Sing of having 'taken' them."

"I know." Ben sighed. "But we both know he would never do such a thing. And even if he had, where are they? He came to me with no children or wife. No, Adam, I think the note is purposefully misleading."

"So what do you think it means?"

The rancher shook his head. "I have no idea."

"Hey, there, Ben. Adam," a cheerful voice called out. "What brings you two in so early?"

Ben turned to greet his friend. "Good morning, Roy. We've come to see Robert."

Roy shook his head. "Fraid you can't, Ben. Robert rode out last night. Seems someone found a body out by one of the old diggin's. He went to fetch it in." The deputy eyed the sky. "Probably won't make it 'til noon. Maybe later."

"Any idea who it was?"

"Nope. Sounds like some drunk who landed in the wrong spot." The lawman's sharp gaze moved from him to Adam and back. "Little Joe ain't worse, is he? I saw the Doc headin' for his office." When neither of them said anything, Roy tried again. "Ben?"

"Son, will you keep an eye out for Hop Sing? Bring him in when he gets here. In the meantime I'll fill Roy in on what's happened."

"Sure thing, Pa."

Roy's gaze narrowed. "Hop Sing's comin' in too? Ben, what's this about?"

"I'd like to talk in your office, Roy. You never know who's listening." As the lawman unhooked his key ring from his belt, Ben turned back to his son. "Adam, you stay close. Don't wander off."

His eldest son's shoulders rose and fell with a suppressed sigh. He moved to the bench that fronted Robert Olin's office and sat down. "I'll sit right here and wait like a good boy, Pa." The last was said with a half-smile.

Ben nodded. "Thank you. Two sons missing is more than enough to worry about."

oooooooooo

Adam stretched his legs out so he could rest them on the porch rail of the jail. It was a crisp, late September day. The air was still and the dust low and altogether it wasn't unpleasant to sit on a wooden bench outside of the sheriff's office and watch the world go by.

Or it would have been pleasant had his brothers not been missing.

He and Pa had discussed their shared guilt on the way in. The fact that someone – most likely Sears or Pratt – had broken into the house and snatched Little Joe right out from under their noses mortified them both, as did the fact that they had hired the two men in the first place. He and Pa were self-proclaimed protectors; his father of them all, and him, of his younger brothers. He'd failed in his duty and it rankled like a dead fish too long in the sun. He'd failed. He'd let both Hoss and Little Joe down, but Joe most of all. Hoss had made a choice and, while it proved to be a less than wise one, he'd removed himself from his big brother's protection.

For God's sake! Little Joe had been asleep in his room!

"Good morning, Adam. You and your father are in early."

He'd been so caught in his own thoughts that he'd missed the fact that one of the businessmen he'd met with had stopped on the boardwalk and was staring at him.

"Sorry, Mister Chase," he said as he lowered his legs. "I was lost in my thoughts. Pa had some business with the sheriff, so we came in before he could go out on his rounds."

Philip Chase let out a sigh – a slightly infuriated one. "I wish my business was so pleasant," he said, a sour look on his face.

Adam chuckled. "I take it you're meeting with Sebastian Stephens?"

"Yes, more mining business. I swear, that man won't be happy until he owns every last enterprise in the territory!"

"Is he trying to buy you out?"

"Ruin me. But I won't let him."

Adam leaned forward. "What's he done?"

"Spread rumors that I can't pay my men; that the mine is failing." Philip scowled. "Told my creditors I can't pay them either."

"Are you the only one he's done this with?"

"There are a few others. We all own small mines, or small spreads of timber. Nothing like your father's holdings." Chase paused. "Ben hasn't received any threats, has he?"

'Not that kind of threats', he thought.

"No."

"That's good to hear." Philip tipped his hat. "Well, I best be on my way. I'm having breakfast with the snake at the hotel. Maybe he'll swallow an egg whole and choke."

Chase's remark brought a smile to Adam's face, but it didn't remain on his lips long.

As the businessman headed for the hotel, a wagon rolled into town. The black-haired man recognized it instantly as their supply wagon. Hop Sing was in the driver's seat. Adam watched the Asian man skillfully pull the wagon up in front of the feed store, disembark, and head inside. Since they were in town anyway, their cook was going to pick up a few supplies.

No matter what, life went on.

"Adam, have you seen Hop Sing yet?"

He turned to find his father standing in the doorway. "He just rolled in."

The older man looked. "I want you to join us then. I'm sure he'll be along in a minute."

oooooooooo

Ben took his seat again and waited until Adam did the same. Roy Coffee leaned on the edge of Robert Olin's desk. He still looked slightly stunned.

Which was just the way he felt.

"So, let me get this straight," Roy said. "Both Hoss and Little Joe are missin'? And you ain't got a clue who took 'em or why other than suspectin' those two varmints – Pratt and Shade - was involved somehow?"

He hadn't shown Roy the note yet. He'd been waiting on Hop Sing. Ben considered it a moment and then reached inside his pocket and pulled it out. There was no way of knowing how long the Asian man would be. This way the three of them could leave the settlement as soon as they were done with Roy.

He handed the note to lawman without a word.

Roy read it once, and then twice – and then a third time before he looked up.

"You got any idea what this means, Ben?"

He shook his head.

"Does Hop Sing?"

Again, 'no'.

"You recognize the handwritin' at all?"

He hadn't thought about that. Ben took the note again. He drew a steadying breath as he perused it. "Sadly, no."

"You said Hoss went missin' while he was out ridin' fence with Posthole and Wilson got hurt. How's he doin'?"

They'd moved Jeb to the bunkhouse that morning at his insistence; "Jeb's going to be all right," he replied.

"Shot him, huh?"

"That was the only way they could take Jeb down," Adam remarked, his tone clearly impatient with Roy's thought processes.

"I know, son. Don't get your nose out of joint…"

Adam was up and on his feet. "What are we doing here?" he demanded. "Why aren't we out there looking for my brothers? What good does it do sitting here chatting like church women at a social when at any moment whoever took Hoss and Little Joe could kill them. For all we know, they might already be dead!"

His son paled.

The silence in the room was deafening.

Adam fell heavily into his chair. "Sorry, Pa."

"Son."

It was Roy, not him.

Adam's blazing amber eyes shot to the lawman.

"I know you're worried about your brothers. Your pa and me, we're worried about them too. Why don't you tell me where we should start lookin'? You tell me, and I'll raise a search party and light out right now." When his son said nothing, Roy continued. "The truth is, son, we just don't have enough to go on. You said there weren't no tracks you could find leadin' off the Ponderosa and you didn't find nothin' at the place where Hoss disappeared. All we got right now is jawin' and I'm sorry to admit it."

Adam was silent a moment. "I can't do…nothing. I have to do something."

"Son…."

Adam's keen eyes bore into him. "Pa., I'll go crazy if I don't. I know you're worried about someone taking me too, but I'm twenty-two and you can't stop me if I decide to go look for my brothers."

He was silent a moment. "No, I can't. But I can ask you not to go alone."

"How about I come with you?" Roy asked.

"Olin's away. Don't you have to be here?" Adam asked.

"I'll send one of the boys for another deputy. Ain't much to do but stop saloon brawls and such. You give me an hour. I'll raise some men and then we'll head out. That sound all right?"

Adam nodded as he rose to his feet. "I'm going to get some fresh air…" The boy's gaze shot to him. "Unless I need your permission for that too."

His son's words were insolent. His tone disrespectful.

Ben decided to ignore it – this time.

"See if you can find Hop Sing. He should have finished up by now."

"Okay. Be back shortly."

Ben waited until he heard the door close to let out the breath he'd drawn.

"The boy's right upset, Ben. He don't mean anythin' by it. I imagine he's feelin' guilty that he's all right and his little brothers…well…."

"It's Joseph I'm the most concerned about," he admitted. "Under most circumstances, Hoss can take care of himself. Little Joe, with his injuries…." As he paused a rage, deep-rooted in righteous anger sought to consume him. "With God as my witness, Roy, if I find the men who did this and what they have done causes that boy to never walk again, I'll…."

Roy was watching him. "Do what? Kill them?"

Ben didn't answer, because at that moment the door to the jail flew open and his eldest burst in.

"Pa!" Adam exclaimed. "Pa!"

Ben went to meet him.

"Hop Sing's gone."

oooooooooo