Ben and his boys were at the trail's end, hidden behind a thicket of canyon oak.

They had been on the move for less than an hour when the trail veered away from open terrain and into a spinney of trees and shrubs. When a large group of horses came into sudden view, Ben signalled to his boys to pull up and dismount. The horses were picketed near a tumble of boulders, but there were no men in sight.

"It's gotta be them," whispered Hoss, "Their tracks lead right here."

Ben peered as best he could through the bushes, but the foliage was so thick he couldn't see anything to tell him who the horses belonged to. He patted Hoss's arm and indicated the direction they should take. The three men skirted the boulders—climbing up amongst them on silent feet—until they were able to look down into a camp of half a dozen men. Most of them were asleep, despite the sun having risen a couple of hours before. One large man lay on his side, his arms curled around his stomach, his blanket fallen to a heap by his legs; another was flat on his back, mouth open, snoring loudly. Ben noticed a boy propped up against a rock, his head hanging loosely on his neck, a half empty bottle of liquor clutched in his fist. Joe exchanged a look with his father who shook his head in disgust. Hoss didn't react, though, as his attention was fixed on the other side of the camp. He nudged his father and nodded towards a tree where one of the gang was leaning against the trunk with a rifle in his hands, but fast asleep. Ben wondered he hadn't fallen to the ground, or dropped his weapon.

He frowned. There was no sign of Adam in the camp; perhaps he was secured nearby. Ben put that thought to one side until the present business was concluded.

"This shouldn't be too difficult," he mouthed. He pointed at Hoss and then at the sleeping watchman. He then pointed at the remaining members of the gang and indicated he and Joe would take those.

Joe led the way, placing his feet just so to avoid making a sound. Ben followed with a stealth many would have thought a man of his years was not capable of. Hoss brought up the rear, circling around to approach the sleeping guard. Despite his size, he could move with a surprising lightness of foot.

Once in position around the camp, Ben cocked the hammer on his six-shooter and the resulting click sounded like a hushed cough amongst a church congregation.

Five men instantly moved. The sleeping watchman sprung away from the tree trunk, his eyes blinking open. His raised his rifle but Hoss was quicker. He had intentionally placed himself behind the guard, his own gun holstered. As the watchman moved, he snatched the rifle from the man's hands and lifted it to his chest, aiming it at the guard and another man who was fumbling in his blankets for his gun. Both men's shoulders slumped and they raised their hands in defeat.

At the same time, Ben's steady aim had subdued two more of the men sleeping on the other side of the fire. One, a big man whose shirt seams strained to contain his muscles, had sprung onto one knee, his hand reaching for the holster hanging on his upturned saddle. Ben fired, and the man snatched back his hand, instinctively rubbing his fingers. At the sight of Ben moving out from where he had been concealed, his comrade immediately yielded, throwing his arms into the air.

Joe's opponent was faster. He had pulled his weapon the instant Ben made his presence known, aiming towards the noise. But he hadn't counted on Joe positioned behind a boulder out of his eye line. Joe shouted and moved out into the open, drawing the shooter's attention. As the man raised his gun arm, Joe dived into a roll, came upright on his feet, and fired. The shooter cried out, dropped his gun, and clutched the top of his arm. Joe had soon kicked his weapon out of reach.

The sixth member of the gang, the boy, raised his head revealing bloodshot, half-closed eyes. He blinked once slowly and then gently slumped to the ground, asleep. He would cause no problems.

"Who are you, whaddya want?" said the big man with the muscles.

Ben's gaze settled on him. "My name is Ben Cartwright. And these are my sons." He looked at Joe who was gathering the gang's weaponry, and nodded towards Hoss who stood, solid as a Ponderosa pine, the guard's rifle unwavering in his grip. "Are you the leader of these men?"

The big man glanced at his companions whose eyes were fixed on the three interlopers in their camp. "I guess I am."

He made a move to stand up but froze when Ben straightened his arm, pointing his gun directly at him. "Stay where you are."

The man dropped back to the ground. 'You lookin' for your boy, Adam?"

Ben and Hoss exchanged a swift glance. "What do you know of Adam? Where is he? What have you done with him?"

Ben's voice had grown more insistent as he spoke. The big man lifted his hands higher and then held them out in a placatory manner. "He ain't here. He made a run for it, got away, took the girl with him."

"The girl you took from Chia Springs?" Hoss's voice drew the man's gaze. "What about the woman with her?"

"If you been trailin' us from Chia Springs then you know what happened to her."

Hoss's eyes darkened, his brows drawn low. Clenching his jaw, he took a step towards the big man.

"Hoss!" Ben's voice drove Hoss to a halt. "This isn't the time."

The man ignored Hoss, apparently unbothered by the imminent threat. He turned his head to face Ben. "There ain't no point getting yourselves worked up with us. None of us here done shot her. And anyhow, it was an accident. Man who did it got punished. And it weren't our idea to take your boy. That was our boss. We just follow orders."

Ben stared at the man. "You just follow orders. So you had nothing to do with a woman and child being kidnapped?" He shook his head in disgust. "I asked you once before, where is my son?"

The so-called leader looked at the man next to him who shrugged his shoulders and looked down to the ground.

"Couldn't tell ya, if I wanted. We split up when your boy made a run for it. The boss followed him, and he sent the rest of us down here to wait."

"Wait for what?"

The man's top lip rose as he sneered. "Well, for you, of course. He's gonna trade your boy for ransom."

Ben's eyes grew black, cutting deep into the man in front of him. "Ransom?"

Hoss side-stepped towards Ben, the rifle never moving from his two captives. "What we gonna do, Pa? They mighta left a note, and if we ain't there to get it. Adam might be…they might…"

Never taking his eyes from the muscled man, Ben reached out and squeezed Hoss's forearm then took a step closer to the gang.

"What's your name?"

The man paused for a moment, frowning slightly. "Rance. What's it to you?"

"I like to know who I'm addressing. You said my son got away?"

"Uh-huh. Took off when the woman got killed. My boss is followin'."

"Then he might still be one step ahead."

Rance sneered. "You're talkin' about the best tracker in the country. Your boy won't get away from Cordell."

"Perhaps." Ben's voice was distracted. "Where was the ransom to be left?"

Rance settled back against his saddle. "Cordell don't share everything with us."

"What about his camp?"

Rance looked down at the ground. "As I said." His hand reached out to flick at the dirt with a fingertip.

Ben gave Hoss a look, an unspoken instruction passing between them. Hoss passed the rifle to his father and in two strides was in front of Rance, pulling the big man to his feet. They were well matched in size, but Rance was taken by surprise, his balance off and he stumbled to his knees. Hoss grabbed the man's throat and lifted him off the ground. The tips of Rance's boots kicked up dust as they fought for purchase.

"My Pa asked you a question, and I think you know the answer." He shook Rance's neck. "Now where is your boss's camp?"

Rance's hands gripped around Hoss's wrists, his face becoming red from the constricted blood vessels. "I…don't know…" he gasped.

"I don't believe you!" Hoss's grip pulled tighter. "Tell me where we can find it."

Rance's eyes were starting to bulge, his grip loosening on Hoss's wrists. "Tahoe," he choked. "Top of...Ta..."

"Hoss!" Ben's voice cut through the air.

The gang had become instantly alert whilst Hoss had Rance in his grip. They had moved to their knees, ready to jump, ready to take action. But the Cartwrights presented a formidable front. Joe was eerily calm, his gun hand still and steady. Ben himself stood with his feet planted firmly on the ground, legs astride, pointing the rifle on any man who so much as twitched. And with Hoss demonstrating his incredible strength, the gang soon changed their minds about attempting a rescue of the unfortunate Rance.

Hoss released his grip and Rance toppled to the ground, his hands on his neck, gasping for air.

"We got our answer, Pa. Now let's tie these mongrels up and get goin'."

"Hey!" Rance's exclamation was a throaty croak. "You can't…" He heaved himself up onto his backside. "You can't leave us tied up." He coughed as his voice returned. "We ain't done nuffin."

Hoss was already moving to the first man and securing him with rope from his own saddle. Ben took a step forward, the rifle held firmly in both his hands, and when he spoke, his voice was a low rumble.

"You kidnapped my son. You kidnapped a woman and a child, and now that woman is dead. Don't you dare act the innocent. You are all guilty and will pay with the law for what you have done."

Rance and his comrades could do nothing but stare at Ben as Hoss forced their arms behind their backs and tied their hands together whilst Joe secured their ankles.

"But if you're worried about coyotes and rattlers..." Ben's eyes moved to the drunken boy who hadn't moved a muscle since the three Cartwrights had walked into the camp. He was still out cold, his hand hanging on tightly to the bottle of liquor as though unwilling to relinquish it even when unconscious. "We'll leave him untied. If he sobers up long enough, maybe he'll be your way out of here."

Ben turned on his heel and tossed the rifle into the bushes. With Hoss and Joe close behind, he walked away from the indignant protests of the gang, and within minutes they were riding hard for the top of the lake.

~8~

Nate thundered into camp, pulling his horse to a stop so violently the animal reared and tossed its head. He had been dispatched on his 'little errand' as soon as the morning's sun had warmed the alpine air. As proof of his identity, Cordell had ordered Adam to hand over something personal and identifiable to his family. He still wore his faithful old belt with its engraved Ponderosa insignia, and it was with reluctance he handed it over to Nate. It was worn and fraying but had been a reminder of home in all the time he'd been trying to escape it.

And now, with the middle of the day approaching, Nate was back.

He jumped off his saddle and in a fit of temper threw his hat to the ground. Clara ran to where Adam was sitting and he took her hand in his, gently pulling her down beside him.

"What's eating you?" Cordell was on his feet, sipping a mug of coffee.

"Old man Cartwright wasn't there. None of the Cartwrights were there. Seems they've all gone off someplace for a few days."

Cordell looked at what was left of his coffee and then flicked the dregs onto the ground. He let the cup dangle in his hand as he stared out over the lake. After a few moments he turned to Adam.

"Probably looking for you, huh?"

Adam knew better than to continue the lie about his father. "Yep. My pa and brothers would have known something was up the minute I didn't arrive when I said I would." He leaned forward. "They're not stupid, Cordell, they'll be tracking you. You're not going to get away with this."

"So you say." Cordell turned to Nate. "Do you know where they went, how long they've been gone?"

"How do I know? Some crazy Chinaman met me at the door. 'Mr. Cartwright no here, Mr. Cartwright no here' is all I could get out of him. And when I asked when he'll be back, he started gabbling in Chinese and shaking a cleaver at me. I only just made it out with everything still attached." He took a step towards Adam. "And what the hell are you grinnin' at?"

Adam raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture but couldn't keep the smile from his face. Hop Sing. It seemed nothing had changed. What a relief to know he was still keeping things in order at the Ponderosa. It was an old trick of Hop Sing's to switch from his broken English to fluent Cantonese and send away anyone he didn't like the look of. Of course, they always returned and by then the family had been briefed and prepared for any unwelcome visitors. He played the fool, but only a fool would underestimate him.

"What did you do with his belt and the ransom note? It was for Ben Cartwright's eyes only, don't forget."

Nate's frowning face grew more pinched. "Whaddya think I did with it? I threw it at the Chinaman and hightailed it outta there. But what's the point? We asked for the money to be left at the Hanging Tree at dawn tomorrow, but what if they're not back by then? We're wasting our time here."

"Nate, my boy, you need to be patient. We'll get a tidy sum for him," he looked at Adam who shook his head and turned away.

Nate threw his arms up. "Patient? This little side business of yours is costing us valuable time. We have to be in San Francisco by the beginning of next month. How long are you prepared to wait for Old Man Cartwright to get back from his trip? I say we kill him." He nodded towards Adam, "and get on with the business we were hired to do."

Cordell lowered his head as he took a couple of unhurried steps towards Nate, but the speed with which his fist flew and connected with Nate's chin was anything but slow. The youngster lay stunned on his back for a few moments before he scrambled to his feet and began to charge at Cordell. In the blink of an eye, Cordell drew his weapon and fired at Nate's feet.

Clara jumped and hid her face against Adam's chest as the gunshot echoed off the surrounding hills. He enfolded her tightly in his arms, ready to throw her out of the line of fire if necessary. He watched as Cordell stretched out his weapon so it was inches from Nate's head. The boy swerved back, his arms rising to steady himself as he stumbled away from the gun, dust swirling around his boots.

"You get paid to do what I tell ya, Nate, and don't you forget it. We stay here until I say so." Cordell looked at Nate's horse, which was foamy with exertion. "Now sort your animal out; that's no way to treat your mount."

Nate glared hard at his boss before leaning down and swiping his fallen hat off the ground. He stamped out of the camp with his horse in tow.

Adam relaxed and released his grip on Clara. He smiled. "Dissension in the ranks, Cordell."

Cordell gave him a fierce stare but then dropped to his haunches at the fire to refill his coffee cup.

Adam looked at the man in front of him, then in the direction Nate had gone. Dissension indeed. He could use this. As he squeezed Clara's shoulder and she lifted her head from his chest, Adam's eyes narrowed in thought. Yes, he could use this.

~8~

With Nate tending to his horse, and out of earshot, Adam climbed to his feet. Clara grabbed his hand and when Adam looked down at her he saw a pair of fearful eyes looking back at him. He winked and squeezed her fingers before walking the few steps to where Cordell had resumed his place overlooking the lake, sipping his coffee.

"Why do you keep him with you? He seems more trouble than he's worth, arguing, giving you lip."

Cordell took a long look at Adam. "He's useful to have around. His talents are, shall we say, varied."

Adam touched the fading bruise on his temple. "He's good with his fists, I can attest to that."

"He's a fast gun."

"A little too fast, if you ask me." Adam glanced over to where Clara was listening to the conversation. He lowered his voice. "He didn't have to kill Johanna."

The frown on Cordell's face was replaced with an expression Adam had not expected. It was a look Adam had seen before. It was the same one his father wore when he didn't think anyone was watching him. His gaze would fix on the portraits of his wives and a look of loss, of pain, of still lingering shock at the suddenness of their deaths, would steal across his face. For a brief moment, Cordell wore the same look. Adam's mouth fell open in realisation.

"You were in love with her."

A mask fell over Cordell's face. He shot a brief glance at Clara then indicated to Adam to follow him. They walked a short distance from the camp, away from the girl's hearing.

Adam pulled Cordell around to face him. "You were in love with her."

A muscle twitched at the side of Cordell's eye. "So what if I was? I was nothing to her."

Adam snorted. "Nothing? You were more than nothing. She hated you."

Cordell let a heavy breath escape him. But then he smiled. "I didn't fall in love with the woman I met in New York. She was pleasant enough, but she was nothing more than a job. It was only after she saw through my deception that I began to...admire her. I caught up with her in Missouri, in Independence of all places, and she was like a spitting wildcat. She fought me her with her words and with her fists. Ah, Cartwright, she was feisty. And when her blood was up she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

Adam's top lip rose in disbelief. "And yet you were going to send her back to a man she despised?"

"No!" Cordell's shout made Adam take a step back. Cordell glared at him but then shook his head and dropped his gaze to his feet. "No, that wasn't my plan."

"But that's what she believed, that's what you told her. That's what you told me."

"Her old man isn't interested in her, he just wants the girl. And I needed Johanna to get to the girl."

Adam was speechless and could only stare as Cordell recounted his tale.

"I was careless in New York and she gave me the slip. But then she made a mistake: she underestimated me, thought I wouldn't find her. But I wasn't hired by her old man on account of my good looks. I'm damn good at what I do. So of course I found her. I tracked her down to Independence where she was trying to haggle a place for her and the girl on a wagon train west." Cordell grinned. "Our first meeting was, how should I put it, heated. I've still got the scratches to prove it. I was going to take her back to New York, but then…" He snorted, and shook his head. "God, she was wily. I had her under guard, and she got away from me...again. I knew then I had feelings for her. She was a worthy opponent."

Adam put his hands on his hips. "And yet—"

"And yet I was going to hand her over to the count?" His gaze was steady as he looked at Adam. "No. I decided there and then that when I caught up with her, I wouldn't let her out of my sight again. The kid would go back to Germany but Johanna was going to stay with me." He paused. "Nothing's changed. The kid will still go back to her father."

Adam's mouth fell open. "I thought you were an intelligent man, Cordell, but you've just proved you're anything but. Johanna would have done everything in her power to get away from you, to find her daughter. She'd have gone back to the man she hated if it meant being with Clara."

Cordell took a step towards Adam, his nostrils flaring in barely controlled temper. Adam crossed his arms but stayed firmly in place.

"You think you know it all, don't you, Cartwright? You only knew her for a few days but you think you know everything about her. She'd have gotten over it."

Adam dropped his arms to his side. "Gotten over it? You can't take a child away from their parent and expect them to forget that child existed. Good God, man, what were you thinking?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Adam opened his mouth to reply. In his mind's eye he could see a small, fair-haired child flying through the air on a swing, giggling with delight as she urged him to push her higher and higher. Peggy would be about fourteen now, not much older than Clara. Adam wondered where she was. He always wondered where she was. He sighed. "No, I don't know what I'm talking about."

He sat down heavily on a boulder. The view of the lake was as impeccable as he remembered it. Adam looked down at the transparent waters below. Every rock and every scar in the lake bed could be seen beneath the unmoving waters of the bay.

Cordell cleared his throat and moved into Adam's vision.

"I know she hated me, Cartwright. And she probably wouldn't stop hating me. But I'd rather have called her mine with all that spit and bile than not have her at all."

Adam rose to his feet. "As I told you once before, Cordell, you're a lousy judge of character." He took a step to move past him, but Cordell was quicker. He pulled his fist back and drove it into Adam's chin. Adam twisted and landed on his chest. He glared up at Cordell, his fingers carefully manipulating his jaw from side to side to check it wasn't broken. He lunged upwards but Cordell had pulled his gun and Adam ploughed to a halt, staring down the gun's barrel hovering inches from his face.

"You hit me once in Chia Springs, Cartwright. You're not getting another chance here."

Adam's body was tense, frozen in a standing crouch. His lips pressed together as his chest rose and fell with every hard nasal breath he took. He glared up at Cordell who leaned in over him, his gun held at the end of a rock-steady arm. The two men were trapped in a tableau neither one could break.

But then the sound of a gunshot rang through the air. Nate's voice carried through the bushes.

"She's gone!"

Adam and Cordell exchanged glances and ran.