NINE

oooooooooo

Lee closed the door to the bedroom Joe Cartwright lay in slowly behind her.

She was at a loss for words.

She knew her late husband, Tom, had had great respect for the healers in the Chinese community, but she had never understood why until now. Without administering a drug, Hadley had brought peace to the wounded man, almost magically relieving the worst of his pain and sending Joe into a deep sleep. His fever had not abated, but it had slowed its seemingly inevitable rise and remained about three degrees above normal. High, but not dangerous.

The beautiful woman lifted a hand to her throat. She pressed it with her fingers and swallowed and then cleared her throat. Both she and it were weary. She had talked non-stop for a good quarter of an hour. At first Joe had fought her – them – but then she had been able to convince him that he was alone with her and that he was safe. She'd seen this young man in action. She knew Ben Cartwright's youngest on feared very little.

The fact that he feared a one hundred and ten pound girl fresh off the street said a lot about that girl.

Of course, it was that way with men. They lost their power to strike back when it came to a woman – at least they did if they were decent men. Another man they could strike battle, maybe even kill if it came to it. But a woman was the weaker vessel; one men like Joe Cartwright had been taught to respect and to protect at the cost of his own life.

Lee turned back toward the room. The girl – Hadley – had pulled a blanket from the bed and curled up in the corner, like a lithesome cat. She'd glanced at her as she left the room, thinking how small, how slight – how defenseless she looked.

But looks could be deceiving.

Lee turned the corner and started down the stairs that led into her home's common room. As she did the lightning flashed. Thunder followed hard upon it. The storm was farther away now, moving into the distance. And still the rain fell, striking the glass windowpanes in a staccato beat reminiscent of someone tapping their fingers on a table.

If it didn't stop soon, she thought she might go mad.

When she reached the floor, Lee paused and then went to the window. She had promised her new husband that she would stay inside and keep the doors locked until his return. The raven-haired beauty glanced at the clock, noting it had been almost four hours since he'd left. Turning back to the window, she looked at the sky. By the look of it you couldn't tell the dawn would soon be breaking. The heavens were scrubbed steel gray and there was not a speck of light – star, moon, or sun. It was bleak. As bleak as her heart.

"Trock," she whispered as she let the curtain fall back into place. Her eyes closed a moment later as her lips moved in prayer. "Dear Lord, bring him back to me safe."

Lee's breath caught as her eyes flew open. Her late husband had told her to distrust things that seemed to good to be true. What happened at that moment was one of them.

There was a knock at the door.

Overjoyed, she started for it, her hand reaching for the knob, but then she stopped. Trock wouldn't knock.

Would he?

Stepping closer, she laid her hand alongside the wood and called out, "Who is it?"

There was a pause and then a deep male voice answered.

"Adam Cartwright."

Lee frowned. If she remembered right, Ben's oldest son was named Adam. But what would be doing here? She looked toward the stair. Could he have come for Joe? No doubt his family knew he was here, but did they know what had happened?

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'll need some proof."

There was another pause. She thought she heard another man say something, but couldn't be sure. If it was Adam maybe Joe's other brother – Eric, was it? – was with him. Or even his father.

"I understand, Mrs. Bolden...Throckmorton. The West is a dangerous place full of...unexpected...occurrences. Would it help if I told you about the last time we spoke?"

She wasn't sure she remembered, but she said, "Yes. Go ahead."

"We came to your door – Pa, Hoss, and me. We were looking for...Little Joe."

There was weight to that last word – to all of them, in fact, as if they were chosen carefully.

"Joe was hurt, if you remember," he went on. "We thought maybe he'd come to you since you'd helped him that time before."

Lee's teeth were planted in her lip. "Go on."

"You told us he wasn't here. He had been, but he'd gone away."

Everything that was in her wanted to move to the window and look out, but some inner sense told her not to. She remembered that night when Trock first came. Joe had been in the barn. Trock had forced him to the house at gunpoint and used Joe to gain entry.

Adam would know that story too.

"I remember," she said, even as she left the door and crossed to the glass-front book case. Reaching into it, she pulled out her late husband's service revolver. It had become a habit to hide it there after what had happened five years before when Pooch and Gavin had invaded her home. After closing the door, she looked around for a place to hide the weapon. As she did, her eyes fell on Hadley who was standing about halfway down the stair.

'Do you know who it is?' Lee mouthed.

Hadley held up three fingers.

'Three men?'

She nodded.

Lee frowned. Three men. That could be Adam and his father and brother. But if they were with him, why didn't he say so?

"Do you know any of them?" she asked, her voice hushed with fear.

This time the girl shook her head 'no'.

The beautiful woman's gaze took in every nook and cranny in the room. Where could she hide the gun? Hadley seemed to know what she was thinking. She came down the stairs and held out her hand.

Their eyes locked.

'I know how to use it,' Hadley's said.

With a nod, she handed the weapon to her and then returned to the door. "Is your father with you, Adam?" she called as she got there. "I'd know his voice."

"No. Pa's...tied up."

She and the other woman exchanged looks. Neither of them had any idea what was happening, only that it was not good.

"Go back upstairs," she whispered. "If you can wake Joe up, get him out of the house."

"They may be watching the back," the girl replied as she came close. "Even if they are not, Joe Cartwright is weak and Ahab is out there."

Tom would have called it being 'between two rocks and a hard place'.

Still, it seemed important to Adam that whoever was with him not find his brother at 'home'. Whatever waited outside her front door was a 'known'. This Ahab – whoever he was – was an unknown.

"Out there, Joe may have a fighting chance." She glanced at the door. "I have a feeling that 'in here'..." Lee came to a decision. She stepped forward and placed the gun in Hadley's hand. "Use it if you have to, to make him go with you."

"Where should we go?"

She hadn't thought of that. Lee considered it a moment. "Are you familiar with the area at all?"

Hadley paled. She nodded.

"What's wrong?"

"We have been...watching the Ponderosa. Ahab and me. We've been to every town in a twenty mile radius."

There was more to this than she knew, but now was not the time to learn. "Head anywhere but there then. That's where Ahab would go, isn't it? If he was looking for Joe? He'd suspect he'd head for home."

The girl thought a moment and then slowly nodded.

"Lee?"

It was Adam. "All right," she called back. "Give me a moment to become decent." Then, turning to Hadley, she said, "Go. Go now!"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Joe Cartwright was one confused man. He had awakened to find himself half-naked and sleeping in a strange bed. His pants and shirt had been hanging over the back of a nearby chair, so he'd levered himself out of the bed and stumbled over to them. It took him five minutes at least to get them on and in the end he had left half the shirt buttons unfastened. His fingers just wouldn't work right. On the way back to the bed he'd caught a look at himself in the full-length mirror butted up against the back wall.

To say he looked like Hell was being unfair to the Devil.

He could see that he'd been beaten and his skin looked like a Paiute had taken a knife to it. He had a gash a good three inches long along the side of his head and it had bled profusely. Someone had cleaned him up, but his white shirt was just about as red as that one brother Adam used to like so much. Try as he might, he couldn't remember how the gash had got there or who had used him as a punching bag. The last thing he remembered clearly was being on the stage with Charlie and rolling to a stop because of...

Something.

Joe swallowed over his fear. Middle brother had taken a blow to the head that drove who he was right out of it about five years back. Funny thing was, he remembered who he was, he just couldn't remember what had happened in the last hour. Or day. Or... A chill snaked through him as he considered just how much time he had lost.

And how many important things with it.

After working his legs into his pants and arms into his shirt, Joe had gone back over to the bed and sat down on it, figuring he'd stay there until he got his strength back. He figured that had been about ten minutes now and he was still waiting. Waiting for strength. Waiting to remember.

Waiting for...what?

Certainly not what he got when the door opened a second later and a slender young woman walked in. She hesitated just inside the door and then –

Drew a gun on him.

Joe swayed as he made his way to his feet. "I've seen friendlier ways to say 'hello'," he commented with a smile.

The girl was staring at him like he had two heads or something. The gun never wavered.

"You know, a pretty thing like you shouldn't be playin' with guns." He took a step forward. "How about I relieve you of it –"

The hammer cocked.

"Or...maybe not." Joe licked his lips. "Look, I don't know who you are and I don't know why I'm here or why you have that gun on me, but –"

"Go to the window!" she ordered, her tone sharp.

Joe wrinkled his nose. "The window?" He glanced over his shoulder at it. "That window?"

The girl's eyes darted from him to it and back to him. "It' the only one in the room."

Joe nodded – and then regretted it. The room began to swim and his stomach to rebel. "Say, do you mind if I sit down?"

"Open the window and climb out," she said, nudging him toward it with the loaded gun.

Joe's back was just about against it. He looked out – and down. "We're on the second floor!"

The girl was staring at him – staring really hard. She scowled as she asked, "Do you know who I am?"

He thought a second. "Sally Scull? Or maybe, Belle Star?" As she advanced on him, he added, "If not, you're doin' a mighty good imitation of a female outlaw."

The girl's head snapped up and she looked toward the door. He'd heard it too. The sound of a door opening and men's voices.

One of which he recognized.

'Hey! That's my brother, Adam!" he said. "I gotta –"

The gun touched his middle. "No. Out the window. We have to run."

"But why, that's my brother. Isn't it?"

"Yes, but he'd not alone." She held his gaze and searched his face as if looking for something in particular.

Apparently she didn't find it.

"Someone's with him. Adam made it clear to Lee that you have to get out before they find you."

It was his turn to frown, which in turn made his head begin to throb again. "Who is it?"

Her eyes narrowed and she let out a little puff of air. "No one good, trust me."

"Why should I? Trust you, I mean?" After all, she could be one of them. He had a vague memory of a woman who was trouble. It could have been her, but then again, the list of women he knew who were trouble was a pretty long one.

The girl was looking over her shoulder again. She turned back and after drawing a deep breath, said, "Look. I don't have time to explain. You and I are..together. I brought you here because you were hurt. There's a man after us. I think he might just have found us. We have to go – now!"

Joe sized her up. She was beautiful in an exotic sort of way – dark-haired, pale skinned, with wide expressive eyes that were years older than they should have been. He was attracted to her, of that there was no doubt, but there was something...

Something that wasn't right.

"We're...together? Since when?"

"I told you, I don't have time to explain. You're going to have to trust..."

He heard it too. Shouting. Someone coming up the stairs.

His brother calling his name.

"Did you lock it?" he asked suddenly.

She glared at him. "What?"

"The door. Did you lock the door when you came in?"

The girl pivoted sharply, even as she let loose with a curse that would have made a sailor blush. He was right behind her as she went to the door. She wasn't paying any attention to him – all her attention was focused on the knob that was beginning to turn.

Joe caught hold of her hand that held the key, shoved the door to, and turned it. She pivoted in his arms and raised her knee. He knew where it was aimed and side-stepped just in time. She was strong and he was weak from the fever and whatever else had happened, but he was a man and she was a girl and she was no match for him.

A second later the gun was in his hand.

He thrust her behind him as a boot struck the solid wood and then began to back her across the room.

Whether he trusted her or not, that window was looking awfully good right now.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Adam Cartwright lay on the floor of Lee Throckmorton's house, a gun pointed at his head. That same gun had made contact with his head about thirty seconds before and taken him down. One of Sunders Haywood's henchmen had Lee trapped in her kitchen. The other was halfway up the staircase, headed for the upper floor where his brother was. The henchman knew that because Lee had told him.

That was the only reason he was alive.

After he and Haywood traded words, the crooked businessman had ordered him to mount up and ride with them. Since Haywood was holding Hoss and Pa there was little he could do but comply with his demands. Haywood figured he would be their ticket in and he wasn't wrong. He just hoped that what he said to Lee – the words he had chosen – had been enough to get Joe up and out. If his brother was capable of moving, that was. From the blood back there in the cabin, he had his doubts, but then a head wound could bleed copiously and still be only slight.

He had to hope that was the case.

As he hit the floor, Adam had called out to his brother, hoping to warn him. He'd received a kick in the kidneys as a thank you from Haywood and a glare that would have dropped a grizzly. The man from San Francisco ordered his thug up the stairs and the man had gone with two guns drawn. So far he hadn't heard any shots. What he did hear was the sound of someone trying to take down a door. If Joe was in that room at the top, he could only hope his warning had gotten him up and out the window in time.

Of course, once on the ground, the real battle would begin. Haywood and his two goons hadn't come alone. They'd tried to make him think they had, but he knew at least two men were following close behind them. He'd heard them talking and caught the scent of their horses. That meant Sunders had left only two men to guard his Pa and Hoss. If one of them could manage to get free of their bonds, he was sure they could take them out with little trouble.

If...

Adam closed his eyes, partly out of fatigue and partly to stop his head whirling. Hoss had been in fair shape when they left, but Pa...someone had taken their anger out on the older man, most likely Haywood. Knowing Pa he'd challenged the man – probably about Joe – and gotten what the crooked man would have considered his comeuppance. He sure hoped he was all right. Pa was as strong as any man he knew, but a beating was a beating and, knowing Pa, he wouldn't take a minute to rest.

Not while Joe was in danger.

Still, Joe was smart – clever even. His brother had to expect there would be men watching the house. After all, they'd been through enough sieges in their short lives. The trouble was, even though his brother was smart, Joe was hurt and that might effect his thinking. Tired men made mistakes.

He'd have to be careful or he'd make one too.

Adam opened his eyes and looked around. Sunders Haywood was standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting. There was another jolt – another boot contacting wood –and then the sound of a door splintering. He heard someone running. They shouted. There were shots.

Lots of shots.

A second later an agitated voice proclaimed – loudly. "Goddamnit! They went out the window!"

Haywood was breathing steam. "They?" he demanded.

"Two kids. A boy and a girl. The room was empty when I got there. I saw the curtain flyin'." The man drew in a gulp of air. "I looked and seen them runnin' across the yard." He paused. "Well, sort of runnin'. The one was leanin' on the other."

"Where were Scot and Jacobs? I thought I ordered them to watch the back!"

Haywood's goon shook his head. "Not a sight or sound of them. Those kids got clean into the woods."

"By God, I will have their heads!" the businessman shouted. "Trent, you get after them! I want that Cartwright boy!"

Adam was watching them. He noted that Trent didn't respond. He was staring at the door. Even as Haywood pivoted on his heel, the wounded man turned and looked. There was a man standing there framed in the open doorway, his gun drawn. He was tall, with black hair, and had a wild look about him.

"Lee!" he shouted. "Lee, where are you? Answer me?"

Adam turned to look. Sunders' other henchman had appeared. He had Lee. One arm was wrapped around her waist and his gun was in her hair.

It was a stand-off.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The girl was behind him, running her mouth as fast as her legs. She'd called him just about every name in the book Joe had ever heard and a few besides. Once they'd cleared the window, they'd taken off for the trees. It had surprised him that whoever was holding Adam hadn't left anyone to guard the back, but he didn't think about it too long.

If God wanted to bless him, who was he to argue.

They'd traveled about two minutes into the trees when he had pushed off her shoulder and started to stumble in the opposite direction. She'd caught hold of his hand and pulled, but he'd used the same technique he did with Hoss and dropped and rolled and came up on the other side of her and then left her sitting in the mud.

That was when she'd started shouting those names.

As he ran, Joe considered who she was. He had no memory of ever meeting her, let alone of 'being' with her. Somehow he didn't think she was the kind of girl he'd take home to one of Hop Sing's dinners. Maybe he'd met her in a saloon. She seemed the saloon type. But then again, she didn't.

She confused him.

Still, puzzled as he was – and he was mighty fond of puzzles – he had other things on his mind like his brothers and Pa. If Adam was being held against his will, then most likely Pa and Hoss were too. He needed to find them and in order to do that he needed to catch one of the men who had Adam and make them tell him what the Hell was going on.

That was why he was headed back to Lee's house.

And why the girl was still cussing.

As he finished his arch and came up out front of Lee's near the barn, Joe skidded to a halt. He did it so fast the girl ran smack dab into him. Turning, he placed a hand over her mouth and as he looked into her eyes to tell her to 'shush', a shudder ran through him. He had no idea why. It was like a summer's day had suddenly given way to snow.

He started shake and he felt like his knees were gonna buckle.

The girl held his gaze for a moment and then lowered her head.

He might have been puzzled about that too, but at that same instant a man broke from the brush at the edge of the yard and headed for the front door. It took a second, but Joe recognized him as Trock, the bank robber who had saved his life – after first threatening it. As Trock moved toward the house he drew his gun. Joe watched him listen to what was going on inside for several heartbeats and then Trock opened the door and stepped inside.

"What does he think he's doing?" the girl asked, breathless.

Joe turned and looked, and then looked down. She was shorter than him and her dress was in tatters and her breasts were heaving mounds cresting above the white cage of the corset beneath.

Joe didn't answer. Instead, he asked. "Who are you?"

Her jaw tightened. "You don't know, do you?"

"No, I don't know you," he sighed. "I can't remember anything since I got on the stage."

Her gaze went to his hairline. "He hit you pretty hard."

"He?" Then he realized, "You were with me? Who...?"

A shot brought Joe's head around and his attention back to what was happening in Lee's house. He raised the gun he held, clutching it tightly with white-knuckled fingers. "I have to go. Adam needs me."

The girl caught his shirt tail to stop him and wrapped an arm around his middle. "You're not well enough. You'll get yourself killed!"

Her touch on his skin was electric.

Joe found himself panting. He began to shake. His fingers opened and the gun fell from them to the ground. He staggered a step or two and reached out to steady himself with a hand against a tree. He felt like he was drowning. Like he was struggling to rise above the waters. Or trying to wake from a dream.

Or – no – from a nightmare.

His eyes returned to the girl. She looked as shocked as he felt.

Again, he asked her, his voice only the husk of what it should have been. "Who...are...you?"

Her hand reached out. She opened her mouth to reply.

Then she screamed.

Just before someone – Joe wondered if it was God – turned out the lights.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Let her go or I will blow your friend from here to Kingdom Come," Paul Throckmorton growled.

Adam had made his way – slowly – to his feet and stood beside him. He looked from the former bank robber, the one who had saved his little brother's life before going to prison, to Sunders Haywood who was staring at Trock.

If looks could have killed...

"Ignore him, Ed. You answer only to me," the crooked businessman growled.

"Whatever you say, Mister Haywood."

Adam saw Trock's eyes go wide. "Haywood?" he asked. "Sunders Haywood?"

"The same," Haywood snarled. "The man whose son you murdered, you scum."

"Trock didn't kill anyone!" Lee shouted, causing the man who held her to hold her even tighter.

The man beside him shook his head. "Lee, hush!"

The beautiful woman paled and grew quiet.

Trock hesitated for a moment and then he lowered his gun. He didn't holster it or let it go, but he pointed it away from Haywood. "Look, I understand why you think what you think, but I had no part in killing your boy."

"Just as you had no part in kidnapping him?"

Adam watched the former bank robber's expression change. Trock's eyes went to Lee and then he looked away. "I didn't say that."

"Trock!"

"Lee, look. I was a different man before I met you. I made...bad choices. I've paid for some of them..." His gaze returned to Haywood. "But not all. I did take part in kidnapping your son and holding him for ransom, but I had nothing to do with killing him. That was Ahab. When he did, I..." Trock sighed. "I ran."

Haywood was watching him. "Give me one reason why I should believe you. One reason why I shouldn't order my man to blow your head off now!"

Adam thought the businessman was talking about Ed, but then he realized there was someone standing behind him. Trent had returned.

Without Joe, thank God!

Trock turned to look and saw him realize that Trent's gun was aimed at his back. Adam watched him close his eyes and then turn back to face Haywood. "One reason is all I have," he said.

The businessman snorted.

"And what is that?"

The former bank robber's eyes were on his wife. Adam sensed something unspoken pass between them. Lee seemed to deflate. She closed her eyes.

"I'm the only one who knows where your son's murderer is."