Hoss was an ideal companion on a day like this. He talked about the scenery and wildlife and was content to leave the subject of last night's row alone. The way he figured, Little Joe would speak when he was ready. They rode up to the high meadow where the colts were corralled and prepared to start herding them to the lower grazings. After a few weeks there, the best would be retained, eventually to be broken to saddle while the remainder would be sold at auction.
The animals were skittish and Joe groaned inwardly at the thought of trying to control them on the ride home. Hoss rubbed his hands together with glee: this was the sort of work he enjoyed above all. A quick snack and then he'd be ready for the task ahead.
"You want some sandwiches, Shortshanks? Or maybe a piece of pie?"
Joe wasn't really feeling hungry, but he thought he'd better eat something, so he grabbed an apple and started to munch it. After a couple of bites, his stomach started to rebel, so he threw it away and watched in awe as Hoss demolished a lunch prepared for two.
"You sure you've had enough to eat?"
"Come on now Little Joe, you don't want me passing out from hunger on the way home! Puny thing like you would never get me back on ol' Chubb here!"
"Ain't that the truth, brother!"
In town, Ben and Adam had completed their business at the bank and were enjoying a beer in the saloon before riding home when Donald Henderson and his father Ian walked in.
"Good morning, Ben, Adam," Ian Henderson greeted them pleasantly. "We saw your horses outside and thought we'd ask how Joe is feeling today. Donald was quite concerned about him yesterday."
Ben looked the Hendersons quizzically. "Joseph didn't mention meeting you yesterday, Donald. Were you fishing together or ….?"
"Or drinking together perhaps?" interjected Adam. Ben glared at him and he subsided.
"No, sir, it wasn't like that at all. When I met Joe, I thought he was ill and I'd better help him home. He was real pale and unsteady on his feet and then he just seemed to keel right over and was sick. I gave him some brandy from my hip flask and that seemed to help a bit …" Donald's voice petered out as he saw the looks Adam and Ben exchanged.
"I hope your boy's feeling better today, Ben?"
"Well, he seemed fine this morning, I think. Maybe a little distracted and he certainly hasn't been eating much over the past couple of days. Perhaps I'll have a word with Doc Martin before we ride home."
"We'll walk over with you. Malcolm's there at the moment."
"How is Malcolm? I'd heard he hadn't been too well recently. Nothing serious, I hope?"
The look of despair on Ian and Donald's faces was heartbreaking. In a low, unemotional voice, Ian Henderson explained that Malcolm had consumption, that he had fought long and hard but to no avail. Malcolm, the eldest of Ian Henderson's three sons, was dying. His life was ebbing slowly and inexorably away and there was nothing anyone could do to help him. "That's why Donald had the brandy with him, you see. It helps Malcolm when the coughing gets bad."
For a moment, Ben could think of nothing to say. He could not imagine facing up to the death of one of his sons with such dignity and grace. Then he took Ian's hand in his and clasped it firmly. "Ian, our thoughts are with you all. I hope that you will call on us if you ever need any help or assistance."
"There is one favour I would like to ask. We were hoping to build the Beltane Fires next week and I'd be grateful for any wood you could let me have "
"Gladly, Ian, gladly. I don't think I'm familiar with Beltane Fires though. What are they?"
Donald stepped forward. "It's an old Scottish tradition. You build two fires for May Day, with a path between them. It's a celebration of the coming summer and of renewal, a time to look forward to the everything growing and flourishing. You walk between the two fires to bring good luck for the coming year. Beltane's a really old celebration and not many people mark it these days, but Malcolm's always loved it and we want to make this one really special for him."
When they reached Paul Martin's surgery, Ben was shocked in the change in Malcolm. He was thin to the point of emaciation, with the skin drawn tight across the bones of his face, giving him an almost skeletal look. He stood stooped over like an old man and even his hair seemed dull and lifeless. However, his eyes blazed with an energy that denied his condition and he greeted the Cartwrights cheerfully.
Ben and Adam left Virginia City, haunted by the look of eager anticipation on Malcolm's face.
"It's a dreadful disease, Adam, just dreadful. I don't know how the Henderson family are coping with this. To see a young man like Malcolm fighting so bravely and loosing the fight little by little, day by day. I just thank God that my sons are all healthy." Ben shook his head sadly and they rode on in silence for a while.
Adam realised they had not spoken to the Doctor, but then the shock of Ian Henderson's news and then actually seeing Malcolm had all other thoughts out of their heads.
"I think I'll ride on out and give Hoss and Joe a hand with the colts, if that's all right?"
"Sounds like a good idea to me." Ben hoped that a little joint work might pull his sons back together. "Son, I know you can get frustrated by Joseph and I know he's too impetuous at times, but give him a chance. He's got a good heart and he's still just a boy with a lot of growing up to do."
Adam smiled. "I know, Pa. I know. With any luck, my patience won't run out before he drives me distraction! Was I ever that heedless?"
"No, but you were ten times more stubborn - and you still are!"
The colts were proving as uncontrollable as Joe had feared. They had their work cut out to keep them under control. Joe was happy to let Hoss take control and to followed his brother's instructions. He was carefully herding the colts away from a narrow gorge when things started to go badly wrong. Something startled Cochise and the horse began to dance skittishly around. Joe struggled to bring the pinto under control and began to feel a familiar pounding in his skull. As the pressure inside his head mounted it became more and more difficult to see clearly. Things were moving in swirling, unfocused patterns and nothing seemed particularly real. Joe dropped the reins and put his hands to his head, trying to steady the pandemonium around him.
In the distance, Hoss was astounded to see Joe just sitting on Cochise, making no effort to keep the colts away from the gorge. He began shouting at the top of his voice, but even this didn't seem to have an effect. What on earth was Joe up to now? Hoss pondered the situation: Staying in position, he could keep most of the colts in some kind of order, but risked losing one or two into the gorge. On the other hand, going over to shake Joe out of his daydream could result in the rest of the herd running wild and having to be rounded up from scratch. The answer, in the shape of Adam, came riding over the ridge.
"Good timing brother! Joe's supposed to be riding point over by that gully but he's just sitting there. Go on over and wake him up, will ya?"
"No problem. Oh, and Hoss, you don't need to yell quite so loudly when I'm right next to you!"
Joe heard a familiar voice calling his name, but couldn't have looked up for a hundred dollars. The thumping in his head was so intense that he thought his skull would explode. He thrust his knuckles hard into his temples in a vain attempt to make the pain stop. Cochise was standing still, but it took all Joe's remaining energy just to stay in the saddle. Still calling out his brother's name, Adam was beginning to get seriously worried when Joe did not react at all. As he got closer, he could see that something was obviously wrong.
"Joe?" He was close enough to gather up Cochise's reins. "Joe?" He placed a hand on Joe's knee.
Joe was enveloped in pain and was conscious only of the agony inside his skull. The shock of Adam's touch made him jerk upright, jarring his head and making the pain even worse. He screamed briefly, gave a small gasp and fell forward onto the pinto's neck.
Reaching out, Adam grabbed his brother's belt and pulled him bodily off the Cochise and onto his own horse. He held Joe in his arms, wondering if he was unconscious and was relieved when the long lashes flickered and then opened. "Joe? Can you hear me? Are you all right?" He was shocked when Joe finally opened his eyes and stared up at him: the pupils were so expanded that barely any of the green iris was visible.
"My head really hurts, Adam. It won't stop. I don't feel so good."
"You don't look so good either, buddy. How about we get you settled more comfortably and I'll take you home?"
Joe's eyes drifted closed again and Adam was unsure how much he had heard or understood. Hoss rode up at a gallop, exclaiming loudly.
"What's happened? Is Little Joe all right?"
"There's definitely something wrong with him, but I don't know what it is. He's pretty bad though. Give me a hand with him, will you? He seems to be out for the count."
They rode back towards the ranch, leaving the colts to their own devices. Adam held Joe firmly in front of him, while Hoss lead Cochise and listened carefully as he related Donald Henderson's version of the previous day's events.
"And then he was sick over my boots yesterday too."
Hoss considered this carefully. "At breakfast, it was almost as if he didn't remember going fishing yesterday."
Joe sat so still and his breathing was scarcely susceptible. Every so often Adam would duck his head down to check his brother was still alive. It was strange and rather disconcerting for Joe not to be bouncing around, full of energy and mischief.
There was a movement in the saddle and Joe drawled "Sick …. I'm gonna be sick" in a slurred voice.
For a big man, Hoss could move with an economy of motion and show a dazzling turn of speed. He acted instantly, jumping off his horse to grab Joe and hold him securely as he wretched violently, over and over again. By the time Joe had finished, his exhaustion and misery were evident.
They lifted Joe back onto Sport and set off home again. Joe was shivering and shaking, so Adam pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around him, hugging the boy against his chest. He wasn't sure if Joe was aware of his actions, but the closeness gave him a little comfort.