"We have to find him, Hoss," Adam repeated for the umpteenth time. "I'll die if we don't, I'll die."
"Why?" Hoss asked suddenly. "For Pa, or because you're worried about him?"
Adam frowned, seriously considering the question. "Because I'm worried about him," he finally conceded.
Hoss, satisfied, gave him the clue he'd been looking for. "All I know from that one conversation I had with him is that his gang's fall-back spot was behind Brewster's ranch, at the abandoned barn," Hoss said.
Adam considered. "I'm going, Hoss," he decided. "Come if you want, but stay way back. I'll let you know if I need you."
And so Adam found himself tying his horse to a distant fence, making final plans with Hoss and creeping softly toward the barn with a hand on his pistol. A welcome spurt of adrenaline coursed through his body, and he shivered with half-excitement, half-fear. These kinds of busts gave life some spice, instead of the never-ending spiral of trying to read another person's mind and guess what he wanted. It was hard enough to keep up with the train wreck, much less stay one step ahead of it.
Adam approached the barn door and slowly, cautiously inched the door to the side. It looked dark and unused, but this was his only lead, and he was going to follow it.
Cautiously he lit a candle, intending to search for clues. Picking it up and turning around, the light from the flame suddenly revealed a semi-circle of very rough-looking youths, with his little brother in the center—
Adam nearly dropped the candle in shock. Someone snatched it out of his hands, blowing it out with just time enough for Adam to see Little Joe take a menacing step forward.
A violent punch knocked the wind out of Adam, and he felt many pairs of hands holding his arms in place. Adam gasped for breath, feeling his knees begin to buckle. "I knew that idiot would squeal," Joe said from the darkness, and Adam felt himself roughly shoved onto his back. Then Adam groaned in sheer physical pain as a boot drove viciously into his side, barely avoiding his ribs.
"No need to do that, he got the message," Joe said to his companion. Adam felt hot breath close to his face. "Do not come looking for me again," Joe warned. "I do not want to be found. This is a taste of what will happen if you interfere again. I'm done with my old life."
"Come on, let's take care of him," a voice said.
"No," Joe said sharply. "I told you, I know him. He won't come for me again."
From within a swirling vortex of pain, Adam could still register the moist dropping of someone's saliva splat onto the side of his nose, and roll down his cheek.
BBBBBBB
"This is getting a whole lot better," Hoss sighed as he walked in the door and sat next to Adam. "It's a telegram from Pa." He showed it to his brother.
Adam groaned, shielding his eyes from the glare of the morning sun. Thank God Hoss had come for him last night after only a few minutes of despairing agony in the barn, and Hoss had all but cradled him on the way home to avoid falling off their overburdened horse.
"Going much worse than planned. Plaintiff's attorney producing deeds and documents I had no idea existed. Looks like we will have to forfeit a good deal of land, if we can save the Ponderosa at all. Pa"
Adam frowned, letting the telegram rest on his chest as he closed his eyes, still lying down on the couch. "Something doesn't seem right, Hoss," he said eventually. "Pa is meticulous with documents. He researched every square foot of this land that he acquired, he even wired provinces out of jurisdiction. I just…let me think on it awhile."
Adam drifted in and out of consciousness, as far as the pain in his side would allow him. He tried to concentrate on the puzzle at hand, but a defeatist attitude kept reminding him of what terrible timing all this was. To lose their land, plus a brother at the same time.
You know, you cast an awfully long shadow, Adam.
Adam sat bolt upright, ignoring the blood pounding in his head in protest. "Oh, no," he breathed. "Oh, nononono. Hoss!" he screamed, stumbling toward the door and looking frantically for his brother. "Hoss!"
"I'm here," Hoss replied breathlessly as he appeared from around a corner.
"What did you say the Peticci family does for a living?"
"They run a print shop outside of town," Hoss said, puzzled. "They do contract work."
"Yeah. And all this happened with Joe a few months after they move to town. And it's reaching a climax right now, while Pa is away on this court case. And suddenly documents appear out of nowhere."
Hoss understood. "Contract work, all right. In forging."
"They're working with the people suing Pa. Joe must have figured this out, had no proof, and was working on infiltrating it himself."
"Why didn't he at least come to us about it?" Hoss asked in frustration, but they both knew the answer.
"I didn't hit him hard enough, I should have knocked the stupidity out of him," Adam growled in anger. Anger was a much safer emotion to deal with than fear. "He feels some kind of need to prove himself, but really, are the Peticcis that dense? Now they've got a hostage, so if this court case goes sour, they've got a plan B. And Joe must know way too much by now for them to let him go." Adam flung the house door open, strode toward the coffee table, and took a generous dose of whiskey. For medicinal purposes.
"What are we going to do?" Hoss asked flatly.
Adam looked at him thoughtfully. He took more medicine.