TWELVE
oooooooooo
Adam was on the move. He'd gently passed Little Joe over to Hoss and begun to explore their prison. For the last few hours there had been no sound or movement without it and he was beginning to suspect there never would be.
He was beginning to suspect that they'd been abandoned and left to starve to death.
As he moved along the perimeter of the room running his hands over the furniture – pulling out every drawer and searching every cubby – Adam continued to analyze the choice he had made. At the time it had seemed the logical thing to do – allowing himself to be taken and brought to his brothers' location. Of course, he couldn't have known that location would be twenty or more feet down. Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Sebastian Stephens had bought just about every unimportant mine in the area and let most of them go dark. Their demise upped the value of the larger mines he owned and operated. Little did he care that he'd ruined the lives of the men who'd founded them or put dozens of miners out of work. Some of those men had come to the Ponderosa, desperate for a job, and Pa had hired them even though they knew nothing of cattle or horses.
Adam halted where he was. Pa. Their father was out there looking for them. Pa would reach the same conclusion. He would come to save them. But…. even if he did, how would Pa know which mine to search? If he searched them all, they would run out of time.
No. It was up to him to get them out.
The black-haired man hesitated where he was and listened to his brothers. Little Joe had awakened and he and Hoss were speaking softly. Both of them were pretty weak. He'd eaten the night before his capture, so he still had some strength. From what he could tell, the two of them had been practically starved to death, receiving nothing more than some kind of gruel and water since they arrived. It made him wonder why Stephens kept them alive. He was grateful for it, but it made little sense. Unless he just wanted to make them suffer.
Or wanted someone to know they had suffered.
Adam grabbed the edge of the table in front of him. He was a rational man. It took a lot to drive him to a killing rage. The thought of that arrogant Easterner making his little brothers pay the price for whatever grudge he held against Hop Sing was enough to do it.
"You find anythin', Adam?" Hoss called out.
He closed his eyes and drew a breath. It pained him to hear his normally robust and vigorous middle brother sound so weak.
"Furniture," he replied as he began to move again. "Some papers on a table. Not much else."
"There's a rack somewheres. It's got some clothes on it. That's where I got the coat for Little Joe."
Adam turned toward them. "Joe? How are you doing?"
"I'm…fine," his brother answered in a voice too small for a mouse. "Don't…you worry…about me."
"That's good," he said, though he didn't believe it. "Is Hoss taking good care of you?"
"Uh huh."
"I got him all wrapped up, Adam. Nice and warm." There was a pause. "He's shiverin' pretty bad."
"How's his fever?"
"It's on its way up again."
"Try to get some more water in him, Hoss," he said as crossed back over to his brothers. He'd found a little in the bottom of a bucket tucked in a corner. It was stale but it was better than nothing. "The pail's on your side."
"Will you two…stop…talkin' about me like…I ain't here!" Joe protested meekly.
Adam reached out to brush a mop of sopping curls off his brother's forehead. "Sorry, buddy. Would you like some water?"
Little Joe's teeth were chattering. "Too…cold," he said as he leaned into his hand. "Just..wanna…sleep."
"Adam?"
There was a whole world of worry in that one word.
"Why don't you hand him over to me again, Hoss? Joe, I'm gonna hold you. When Hoss brings the water, I want you to drink some. Okay?"
He could hear the pout even if he couldn't see it. "Okay. If you…ouch!"
"You okay, Punkin?" Hoss asked.
"Somethin'…." Joe fell silent. When he spoke again, his voice choked. "Somethin' just poked…me in the leg."
Adam started to move before the reality of his brother's words struck him. "You felt something poke your leg?"
Little Joe's head nodded against his arm. He took hold of his brother's leg and squeezed. "Joe? Can you feel that?"
There was a pause.
"Sort of."
Tears welled in the black-haired man's eyes even as his other brother spoke. "You mean you can feel your legs, Little Joe?" Hoss asked.
"I can…tell they're…there," he answered. "I can feel somethin'…stickin' me."
Barely masking his jubilation, Adam asked, "Where, Joe? Can you tell me where?"
"Kind of…underneath my right leg."
He took hold of the little boy and leaned him forward. "Hoss, see what you can find."
Hoss was already feeling around Joe's leg. All of a sudden he sat up straight.
"Thanks, Hoss. That…feels better." Joe tugged at his arm. "Adam?"
"Yes, Joe?"
"I still can't…move my legs."
"That's okay, buddy," he reassured him. "If the feeling is coming back, you will in time."
"Okay."
"Adam? About this here pointy thing…."
He'd almost forgotten about the mysterious pokey object.
"What did you find?" he asked.
His brother took hold of his hand and turned it palm upward. "I know what I think it is. Let's see what you think."
Adam knew their father was praying for them. He'd felt it like a covering. Pa was petitioning God for a miracle.
It just happened.
Adam felt something cold and metallic settle on his palm.
It was a key.
oooooooooo
Ben Cartwright glanced at his companion. Hop Sing had stubbornly refused to speak since finishing his story. It all made sense now. Sebastian Stephens 'children' had been grown, but the Easterner blamed the Asian man for taking them from him. Clare had been killed instantly. Her brother, Ethan, disavowed his father and walked away, never to return – but not before going to the law and letting them know what had happened. It was at this time that the warrant had been issued for the Asian Man's arrest and Hop Sing had been detained. If it had been up to Stephens, he would have hung, and it almost happened. The story that Ethan gave the law was truthful but incomplete in parts. The young man threatened to tell everything, knowing his testimony would destroy not only his father's reputation but his life. Sebastian relented and Hop Sing left the bay area and headed east as he and Clare had intended. In order to survive, he became indentured and worked for the man who owned him up until the time they met.
The rancher glanced at the man seated beside him. They'd left the ranch and were on their way by wagon to meet up with Adam. Sometime over the last few hours Ben had come to the conclusion that they were going about the search for his sons in the wrong way. They'd been looking above ground when they should be looking under it. Something Sebastian Stephens said at that last meeting had come back to him. The Easterner had boasted that he owned so many abandoned mines, he could hide an entire army in them and no one would be the wiser.
It terrified Ben to think of his young sons trapped below ground, but his intuition told him that was where he would find them.
As they sped along the road, the rancher considered all what he knew of Stephen's holdings. If the villain had concealed his boys in one of his mines, most likely it would be an inconsequential one, far from settlement and prying eyes. It would have to be one that had been abandoned, unless that men who worked it were as unscrupulous as him. Before they left the house Hop Sing had spoken of his suspicion that both Yin and Lin Lu were involved. Ben had considered going to settlement to talk to the siblings but had decided against it. He was concerned about the time it would take to get there and back. Hoss had been missing for two days and Little Joe for a day and a half. Joseph's physical condition could only have deteriorated. His youngest son had barely recovered enough from his accident to be allowed to go downstairs and sit on the settee, let alone to be hauled out of his window and over the roof to God only knew where.
Ben closed his eyes briefly. God did know. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
"Mistah Ben," Hop Sing said.
The Asian man was pointing ahead. Ben noted a cloud of dust headed toward them. It materialized into Roy Coffee and Lucas Painter.
They were riding hell-bent for leather.
A chill snaked along his spine as the rancher reined the team in and waited.
"Ben! Thank God!" Roy breathed as he checked his horse. "We was hopin' we wouldn't have to ride all the way back to the Ponderosa."
Lucas said nothing but simply stared at him.
Ben looked behind them. There was no more dust. No other riders.
He drew in a breath and asked, his voice tight with fear. "Adam?"
"He's missing, Ben," Lucas said.
It took a second. "…kidnapped?"
"We gotta assume so," Roy replied. "Though from what Lucas here said, it seems the boy might of just up and walked away."
"Walked? He didn't take Sport?"
Roy shook his head.
"Mistah Adam go to find brothers," Hop Sing said.
Ben turned to look at his housekeeper. "How do you know?"
"Mistah Adam young and know no fear. He feel responsible for little brothers." The Asian man's gaze moved from Roy to Lucas. "Think old men move too slow."
"How do you know this?" Roy asked with some suspicion.
Hop Sing looked at the lawman for the first time. "Hop Sing young man once as well," he replied softly.
"Did you try to track the boy?" Ben asked.
"Soon as we realized he was missing," Lucas answered. "The tracks led out a ways but disappeared when they went up into the rock."
"They?"
The lawman nodded. "Someone was with him."
"Good Lord!" he breathed. "Then Sebastian has him too."
Roy scratched his head. "Sebastian? You mean, Sebastian Stephens? You think that city slicker's got somethin' to do with all of this?"
Ben opened his mouth to respond, but Hop Sing beat him to it.
"Mistah Ben not think. He know."
oooooooooo
Adam continued to open and close his fingers on the key, unable to believe it was real. His voice was hushed with awe. "Tell me where you found it again?"
"The key's what was pokin' Little Joe's leg," Hoss replied. "It was in the pocket of the coat I wrapped around him – the one I found hangin' on the rack by the door."
Did he dare hope?
"You think it could of belonged to mine's foreman maybe?" his brother asked.
Adam grinned. "I'm thinkin' Pa's prayers have been answered." He rose to his feet and quickly crossed to the door. Once there, the black-haired man listened, making sure the hall was silent before he tried it in the lock.
"Well?" Hoss called.
The black-haired man closed his eyes and whispered a prayer of his own, and then he pressed two fingers against the door and gave it a shove. The sound it made as it creaked open rang hollowly down the empty corridor. Adam winced and waited, but there was no response.
"It's open," he breathed, still not quite believing it. "Come on, Hoss. Pick up Little Joe and get over here. We need to go now!" When his brother failed to move, Adam turned toward him. "Hoss, is something wrong?"
"I…." The big teen sounded terrible. "I ain't… Dang it, Adam! I ain't got the strength to get myself up and carry Little Joe."
He quickly crossed the space between them and placed a hand on his brother's arm. "You're weak. You've been without food for nearly two days. I'll get Joe." As he said it, he realized his baby brother hadn't spoken in some time. "Little Joe?"
"He's out again, Adam. Happened just about the time you headed for the door." There was a pause. "I cain't wake him up this time."
Adam probed the darkness until he came upon his little brother's slight form. Joe was lying on the floor. He was breathing rapidly and his skin was on fire. Before lifting him, he turned to Hoss. "Can you get up on your own?"
"I ain't…that bad," his brother lied. "I'm on my feet…already."
"Can you walk?" Adam asked as he rose with Little Joe in his arms.
"Yeah. Not sure how fast, but I can walk."
"All right then. Follow my voice," he said as he led the way to the door.
"You think any of them varmints are out still there, Adam?"
No, he didn't.
Not on this level at least.
But there was no way of knowing what they would find when they got to the top.
oooooooooo
Ben explained his thinking once they met up with the remainder of the search party. He was forced to share Hop Sing's story, but kept it to its essential facts. The Asian man was distraught. He was sure the choice he had made so long ago had doomed Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe. As for him, he didn't believe his boys were gone. Sebastian Stephens was a cruel man and cruel men enjoyed inflicting pain. Most likely Stephens had not killed his boys but imprisoned them in some abandoned mine, intending to let thirst and starvation do the dirty work for him. Roy and Lucas Painter agreed they should call the rest of the search parties in and then send them out again to search all of the Easterner's properties. Stephens owned two mines on the road to Hangtown. Ben felt they should begin the hunt there, so while the lawmen headed out to find the others, he and Hop Sing headed west. The mine closest to Gold Hill had once belonged to a neighbor of his. He'd named it 'Shade's Girl' after his daughter, but after that daughter chose a less than reputable 'career path', it became known as the Shady Lady. It had been closed shortly after Stephens came to the settlement and began his campaign to own not only Gold Hill but everything in the territory surrounding it.
It had taken them half a day to reach it.
Hop Sing's touch brought him back to the present.
"Smoke," the Asian man declared as he lifted his hand and pointed.
Ben saw it. A thin gray trail, rising above the trees. It was just the right amount for a small campfire. That in itself was suspicious since there was no reason anyone should be at the vacant mine.
The rancher reined in the horses and let the wagon roll to a halt. He hesitated and then reached in the back and handed his companion his spare sidearm. Hop Sing made a face – the sort a man makes when someone has handed him a snake.
"I know you're not a man of violence," the rancher said, "but…".
"It is not that."
"No?"
Hop Sing's jaw clenched as his fingers tightened on the weapon. "I will kill him," he said.
"In self defense, Hop Sing. Only in self-defense. Anything else and it will be murder."
His housekeeper was already on the ground. The Asian man looked up and met his worried gaze. "This one's body breathes, his heart beats, but he already dead." Hop Sing paused. When he spoke again his English was unbroken. "There is nothing left for me, Benjamin Cartwright, but the grave."
He was gone before he could stop him.
oooooooooo
Adam dropped to his knees when they got to the top of the shaft. His muscles were trembling and he was out of breath. Since there had been no one to bring them up, he'd had to hand over hand the rope to pull the elevator bearing the three of them to the surface. All the way up Hoss sat on the platform holding Little Joe, who was still unconscious. He'd had to help his giant of a brother to his feet and then support him as he stepped off the platform with Joe in his arms. Both were seated now against the cave wall. The black-haired man had wanted to bend down and kiss the ground when they emerged, but he knew that would have to wait. He could rejoice later. Right now he had two sick brothers to care for and protect and he had no earthly idea what they would find when they stepped out of the darkness into the light of the dawning day.
Adam glanced down. His thigh was empty. Bush Sears haadtaken his sidearm and belt when he abducted him. That meant they were pretty much defenseless.
He was counting the great favor God held their father in to see them home.
"You…think…anyone's out there, Adam?" Hoss asked, breathless.
He shook his head. He'd moved to the cave mouth and was looking out. The way was clear so far as he could see, but he knew that meant little. Someone could be hiding to either side of the opening or behind the trees just across the clearing. He could smell smoke, which made him nervous. Then again, the scent could have carried on the wind from a nearby cabin or homestead.
"How's Little Joe?" he asked.
"He still ain't woke up, Adam. I'm gettin' worried."
He was already worried. Damn it! He'd come to rescue his brothers and so far all he'd managed to do was become trapped along with them. Adam ran a hand over his eyes. He was tired – really tired. The lack of sleep and food was finally catching up with him. The black-haired man shook his head and tried to blink it away.
He couldn't afford to be sleepy because he couldn't afford to make a mistake.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Adam. You done your best. You got us out of that hole," his brother said.
"Well, my best isn't enough," he snapped. "Now I have to get you home. Both of you." Adam paused. "Can you carry Little Joe or do you need me to take him?"
"I'm thinkin' you better do it, Adam. I don't…want to drop him."
The black-haired man turned away from the opening and headed for his brothers. His eyes had rapidly adjusted to the meager light filtering into the chamber and he could see them clearly. Both Hoss and Joe were filthy. Their clothes and hair were soaked through with sweat and dirt caked their visible skin. Hoss was doing his best to hide it, but he just as sick as Little Joe. Dehydration and lack of food played a large part, no doubt, but the simple truth was that Hoss was a kid and all of this was just too much. Fear and worry about his baby brother had about done him in. Little Joe, on the other hand, wasn't worrying about anything.
Their kid brother was dead to the world.
Joe's arms and legs swung free as he lifted him out of Hoss' arms. A brief smile flickered across Adam's lips in spite of their dire circumstances. His little brother was the soundest sleeper he had ever known. Many were the times he'd carried the kid up the stairs in just the same way. Only this time Joe wasn't sound asleep, he was unconscious and in danger of his life.
He waited as Hoss stumbled to his feet. "You okay?"
"Yeah," the teen replied. "You get goin'. Get Little Joe out of here."
He had every intention of doing so. "I'll take him outside and then come back for you."
"I'm fine. I can get out on my own. You take care of Little Joe!" Hoss snapped.
"Sure, you're fine," Adam replied as he adjusted his grip on their brother. "Normally you could wrestle a grizzly to the ground and you can't carry seventy pounds. Look, Hoss. Humor me. Wait for me to come back for you."
"I feel like I already…done…wrassled that grizzly…." Hoss admitted as he leaned against the cave wall.
Adam walked the few yards to the mouth of the cave and stepped out into the growing light. He paused to draw in a breath of the crisp autumn air and then headed for the nearby trees, one of which he gently laid his little brother under. The scent of smoke lingered in the air, making him wonder once again if someone had a camp nearby. If they did, maybe he could get them to help. As he rose, the black-haired man heard a sound – something like the noise a small animal made when wrapped in the coils of a snake.
When Adam turned back toward the mine, he saw he was right. There was a snake, although the creature it threatened wasn't so small.
Sebastian Stephens had his arm locked around Hoss' neck.
And the barrel of his pistol pressed into the side of his brother's head.
oooooooooo
Hop Sing clasped the weapon tightly as he moved stealthily through the underbrush. As Mistah Cartwright said, he was not a violent man.
He was one with a mission.
For nearly twelve years he had worked and cared for Mistah Ben and his sons. Safe and secure in his kitchen – hidden away on the Ponderosa – he was, for the most part unaffected by life. After Missy Clare's death, he had grown hard. Never again would he give his heart. He lived his life with eyes downcast, never daring to look up. He had been bought and sold and beaten and abused and had accepted it as just punishment for his crime – until he met a tall rancher who recognized in him something others could not or would not see. Benjamin Cartwright would not listen to his self-effacing words, but told him he had worth. Mistah Ben gave him a home; a place to belong – and children such as might have been. Children he had grown to love as if they were his own.
Children who were now in danger because of him.
Hop Sing stopped and listened. He knew Mistah Ben was not far behind. His employer's heart was that of the tiger. He was strong and brave; bold and without fear. Nothing would stop him from seeking and saving his cubs. This brought him fear. He knew what came of thinking with one's heart. It quickened a man's steps and blinded his eyes to danger. Mistah Cartwright would give his life for his sons. This he could not allow.
If such a thing happened, it was for him to do.
A stand of trees blocked his view. Hop Sing could hear men speaking on the other side. He could not distinguish their words, but recognized the anger behind them. Warily, the Asian man approached, carefully choosing his footing so he would not make a sound or fall and give himself away.
In this he succeeded. He did not fall.
But he did make a sound – a strangled one – when his foot encountered the dead man.
oooooooooo
Adam glanced at Little Joe, who lay silent on the grass, and then stepped between him and Sebastian Stephens.
"Let me brother go!" he commanded.
"It's a good thing I decided to come out and see how things were progressing." Stephens sneered. "You simply can't trust hired help these days. You three were supposed to have been dead by now."
Adam remembered the smell of smoke. So someone had been camping near the mouth of the cave. Probably Sears and Pratt since they were the ones who had been set to watch them.
That word came back to him. The one Sears mentioned. 'Ditch.'
It looked like he'd interpreted it wrong.
"I take it they deserted," he scoffed. "What happened? Too cheap to pay for someone you could trust?"
The Easterner held his gaze. "Apparently, I looked in the wrong end of town. This pair couldn't stomach killing three kids."
Adam wondered if any of the other the men Stephens had hired were still around. Fear of that caused him to turn and glance at Little Joe. He found his brother stirring.
"Joe! Stay put!" he commanded and then realized the order was unnecessary. Adam winced at his insensitivity.
"Hoss?"
His little brother's voice was laced with fear. Joe's concern was for Hoss, he knew, and not for himself even though Stephens had shifted the gun and was now pointing it at baby brother. Adam wondered if the man knew them well enough to realize that a threat to one of them was a threat to all.
"What is it you want?" he demanded.
Stephens answer was cold. "As I said, the three of you dead."
"Because of Hop Sing," Adam replied. "Why? What's between the two of you?" He thought furiously and then remembered the locket with the beautiful young woman's image and the letters from her among Hop Sing's things. "This is about Clare, isn't it?"
The businessman's knuckles whitened on the cold gray metal of his gun. He bit off each word, "You… will…not…mention…her…name."
Adam swallowed over his fear. If he could make Stephens angry enough to turn the gun on him, then Hoss would be free to move. He could only pray that his brother, in his weakened condition, had the strength to take on the Easterner.
"Clare loved Hop Sing, didn't she? That's why you hate him, isn't it?"
Stephens jaw was rigid. "He bewitched her."
"If that's what you have to tell yourself."
The gun did not waver. It remained firmly fixed on Little Joe where he sat in the grass, unable to move.
"I brought that chink into my house to help my daughter," the Easterner growled. "He was supposed to cure her headaches, and instead he used his potions and charms and pagan ways to put her under his spell. Clare would never have gone with a man of color of her own volition!"
Adam moved a step closer.
"You stop where you are, boy, if you don't want me to put a bullet through that brat's head."
It was a dangerous game he was playing and he knew it.
One he hoped neither of his brothers paid the price for.
"Adam, you take care of Little Joe and yourself," Hoss rasped. "Don't you worry none about –"
The Easterner throttled him into silence.
"So noble, so good, you Cartwrights," Sebastian Stephens snarled. "And all this time you have been harboring a murderer under your roof."
"Hop Sing murder no one," a familiar voice remarked. "At least he not do so until now."
Along with Stephens, Adam turned to look. Their cook and housekeeper – one of the most gentle men he knew – was standing in front of the trees, revolver in hand. The barrel was pointed directly at the Easterner.
"Put the gun down, Chink, or I'll kill the kid," Stephens warned.
Hop Sing lowered his gun and deliberately stepped into the line of fire. "Hop Sing one you hate. You kill him."
Stephens quickly swung the gun back to Hoss' head and pressed the nose into his brother's downy red-blond hair.
"I don't want to kill you, you miserable coolie!" Adam winced as he heard a 'click', signaling that Sebastian had cocked the trigger. "I want you to suffer like you made me suffer! I want you to live with unending, unendurable agony just as I have for these last fifteen years!"
"Hop Sing had nothing to do with your suffering," a new voice remarked even as a tall, silver-haired figure emerged from the shadows, gun in hand. "You brought that upon yourself, Sebastian, by your selfish actions."
Pa.
It was…Pa.
Every bone in his body threatened to go to jelly, but Adam kept his feet.
His father moved into the clearing. The older man looked at each of them in turn – at Hoss, who was held at the end of a gun, at Little Joe, paralyzed and unable to move, and at him, exhausted and at the end of his strength – and he smiled.
They were all alive – at least for the moment.
Pa pointed his firearm directly at Sebastian Stephens. "You will let my sons go," he commanded in that voice of his that was like the rumble of God. "This is between you and Hop Sing. They have no part in it."
"Oh, but you're wrong," the Easterner countered. "He stole my children –"
"These are my children," Pa pronounced. "I will not let you harm them. Adam, get your brothers. Take them home."
Stephens glared at his father for several heartbeats and then, unexpectedly, released Hoss. The big teen wobbled on his feet and almost fell down. Instinctively, he, Hop Sing, and his pa all moved in to help.
The sound of a gunshot startled them all.
Taking advantage of the confusion, Sebastian Stephens had pointed his gun at Little Joe.
And pulled the trigger.
oooooooooo