Saturday morning brought a groggy Joe. He awoke a little after sun up feeling worse then he had been all week. His body ached, his head throbbed, and his eyes felt grainy. But worst of all was his throat. It felt tight and swollen, not to mention soar. And when he tried to drink water it burned and made him gag.

Joe looked out at the gloomy day and sighed, 'Still have to feed the horses.'

The boy forced himself to climb out of bed and get dressed. He went out into the main room of the house to wash his face before leaving and was surprised to see that Mr. Walter's wasn't up yet. "Mr. Walter's?" Joe called, but when he got no reply he shrugged. The elderly man had been complaining that he needed some more sleep lately and Joe thought he was just sleeping in. With out bothering to check on the old man, he grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a note on it then left for his home.

He made his way slowly to the ranch. He really wasn't feeling well enough to be out of bed but he didn't have a choice. His was expecting him to do his chores and follow his orders and now was not the time to disappoint him.

'Pa,' Joe thought, 'I wish you were here, you always make me feel better.'

With a stab of guilt, Joe remembered the childish way he treated his family before they left and he hung his head shamefully. "Adam's right, I am a spoiled brat," Joe told his horse, who nickered in reply. "Why can't I just grow up?" Again the horse nickered in reply and Joe sighed. "Thanks," he said and resolved himself to apologize to his family upon their return.

His home insight, Joe speed up the pace a little and soon reached the ranch. He set about his chores with little energy and enthusiasm, but still managed to sound cheerful for the horses. By the time he was done, half the morning had passed and he was nearly dead to rights. He dragged himself to his horse and mounted, setting off at a snail's pace back to Mr. Walter's.

By the time Joe reached the ranch he had gone from bad to worse. His head was throbbing and he had, had to stop once or twice to vomit and regain his balance. Now, it was all he could do to stay in the saddle. He slid off his horse and nearly crumbled to his feet. After a few minutes, he regained his balance and managed to take his horse into the barn.

Joe was surprised to see that the animals had yet to be fed for the morning and were all acting nervously. With a sigh, Joe once again took care of the horses and mocking out the stalls as best he could before heading inside.

The house was dark; there was no fire, no breakfast, and no movement. There was no sounds coming from any of the rooms, his note was untouched; the whole thing was very eerie. "Mr. Walter?" Joe called, winching at the pain in his throat.

There was no reply.

Cautiously Joe walked over to Walter's door and knocked. He didn't know why, but he felt like something was wrong and he started to get very nervous. There was no reply to his knock, so Joe knocked louder.

A groan came from inside, and the sound sent shivers up and down the boy's spine. Fearing what he would find, Joe peeked inside the room. He saw Walter lying on the floor, half dressed in overalls.

"Mr. Walter!" Joe exclaimed as he raced in, his weakness and nerves forgotten and replaced with fear driven adrenalin.

"Ja….Ja…Ooooo?" Walter asked, fever in his eyes.

"I'm here Mr. Walter, I'm right here," Joe said, putting his small hands on the man's shoulders. He gasped at the heat he felt there and looked his friend over worried.

"Wa….ter…." Walter managed to cough out, his voice sounding painful.

"Right, I'll be right back!" Joe said and bounded out of the room, glad that he could do something. He went to the kitchen and poured what was left of the drinking water into a glass and returned to Walter.

After helping the man to sit up, Joe held the glass for him as he guzzled the water down. "Not to fast, you'll make yourself sick," Joe sad as he took the glass away. "Mr. Walter can you walk?"

The man nodded, "Help…bed…."

Joe did as instructed and helped Walter up. It was a troublesome task, but eventually they were successful and Walter was on the bed. Again, Joe held the glass for him and he too a couple of sips.

"Mr. Walter, we have to get you to the doctor," Joe said once he had taken the glass away.

"To…weak…." Was the strained reply. Then the elderly man closed his eyes and his breath grew shallow.

"Mr. Walter," Joe said urgently, shaking him. "Mr. Walter, you can't go to sleep, you've got to eat something. Then you'll feel better and you won't be as weak. Then you can make it to the doctor. Mr. Walter wake up!"

The elderly man groaned and opened his eyes to slits.

"Don't go to sleep yet, I'll heat up some of yesterday's soup and then you'll feel better," with that Joe disappeared. He set about building up the fire in the kitchen and making sure that the soup was cooking. Then he went to the well and somehow managed to refill the water bucket in the house.

Once the soup was heated enough, he dished some out and filled another glass of water before returning to Mr. Walter. The elderly man had fallen into a kind of half sleep and Joe felt panic rise in him. He put the dished down on the dresser and went over to his friend.

"Mr. Walter," Joe said urgently, shaking him, "I have some food for you."

The only reply was a groan and Joe felt panic rise. Here he was about five miles from town with a sick man and no idea what to do. It was times like these that Joe wanted to curl up and let someone else take care of things for him, and for a moment that's what Joe decided he was going to do. After all, he wasn't feeling well either. Who could blame him?

'Adam could. Adam would blame me,' Joe thought, and with a sigh he forced his tiered mind to think. "He has to eat," Joe said, "They're always making me eat when I'm sick."

That being decided, Joe made his way to retrieve the dishes and brought them over. He some how managed to get the man prop up enough so he could drink and eat and set about force feeding him. It was a long and hard process and he only managed to get half a bowl of the soup in him, but Joe did it. And once again, Joe found himself at a loss for what to do.

The panic started to seep in again and the erg to curl up and hide was getting stronger.

"No one here to hold your hand? Learn to take car of yourself!" Adam's voice echoed in Joe's thoughts.

"But it's not just me this time Adam," Joe whined, "I don't want to be the grown up…"

"You're sitting here acting like your feelings are the only ones that matter! You're acting like a spoiled brat! Stop acting like one!"

"Bt I'm jist a kid! And I'm scared! And I don't want to do this 'cause I don't want to mess up!" Joe cried, nearly in tears.

"We all have to do things we don't want...but…it has to be done."

With a sigh, Joe forced himself to think. "What does papa do when we're sick?" Joe asked up loud between coughing fits. "He puts us to bed…Mr. Walter's in bed…He gives us water and makes us eat….Mr. Walter's eaten…he puts a cloth on our heads…."

Joe pulled himself from his spot on the floor and dragged himself to the kitchen and grabbed a towel from the pantry. He soaked it in water and then managed to make it back to Walter's room. He carefully put the cloth on the man's head.

"This won't work," Joe said after several minutes of washing the man's face with out a response. "Have to get the doctor…" Joe's mind was sluggish and fever stricken. His energy was done for and the only thing that kept him standing was his stubbornness.

"I have to go get the doctor Mr. Walter," Joe coughed out, "I'll be back."

Joe left with more then a little reservations and made his way to the stables where he was faced with a new dilemma. Which horse did he take? While his horse was a good one, it was old and slow. Somewhere in his mind Joe knew that he didn't have much time and speed was important. But none of the other horses were ready to be ridden, except Wally, and even still Wally was barely saddle trained.

Sighing Joe dragged his saddle over to the horse and managed to get it on him. The horse started to become skittish and dance a bit but Joe had anticipated this. "Hey Wally," Joe said putting his hand out for the horse. It came eagerly, hoping for some apple pieces. "Sorry, none this time but I promise you a whole lot if you help me. Mr. Walter is sick and I need to ride you into town to get the doctor. I know that you're still new to this whole thing and you don't quite like having a rider, but I really need your help. Please."

The horse seemed to think about what he had said for a moment, before he went still, giving his consent to be ridden. Joe was to sick to be thrilled, and he just managed to swing up into the saddle once he got the horse out of the barn.

"Let's go," he urged and the two took off.