The Real Man Smiles in Trouble

by Marla Fair

Joe is attacked. At first it seems the motive was robbery, but all too soon it becomes clear that something devastating has happened to the youngest Cartwright son. As the truth comes out the Cartwright men face a challenge none of them could have conceived; one that calls upon them to look deep within themselves to find a way to save Joe. WARNING: May not be for sensitive readers

7. Part Seven

THIRTEEN

Jude Lowery rode like the wind.

He was headed back to town, back to find Griggs Vickery and warn him that Adam Cartwright knew. He wasn't sure just what all Adam did know, but it was clear that he had made the connection between the two of them and what happened that night at Pointer's Arch. Before he'd snapped, the words had been there on the edge of his tongue. He'd wanted to make Joe's brother understand why he'd done what he'd done. But Adam was angry and angry men didn't listen to reason.

Jude touched his cheek where Vickery's fist had left its mark.

He knew all about that.

They'd been together, him and Griggs, since the near the day his mother and father abandoned him. He'd come home that day after school and found them gone – no note, no nothing. To this day he didn't know if they'd been kidnapped, died, or simply run away. Neither of them had wanted a child and they had married only because he was on the way. There had never been a drop of love in their house.

He hadn't known about love until Griggs.

After his parents left he had to eat somehow, and so he had gone to a nearby town to look for work. At ten years old he knew it wasn't going to be the easiest thing to find, but finally the man at the livery had taken him in and given him work and a warm place in the loft to bed down. One day a man – tall and good-looking, wearing an expensive suit and a silk top hat set jauntily on his graying brown hair – came to the stable with a fine horse and asked that extra care be given to it. He'd agreed and taking care of Genghis had become his full-time job. The man who owned the horse was, of course, Griggs Vickery. Griggs would come by every night to see him and bring the horse and him food and treats. They talked a lot about their similar childhoods. Griggs had been abandoned as well at a young age, though he'd never told him how or why. They'd both had to choose to survive and it created a kind of bond, more than friendship between them. Soon enough Griggs started to rely on him, to ask him to do things for him. No one had ever wanted him before and so he wanted nothing more than to please the tall man in the suit. Vickery taught him everything he knew – most of all, how to befriend a man and make him trust you, and then use cunning and physical force to get what you wanted.

On the day Griggs Vickery left that town, he went with him.

They traveled and drifted for a while after that. To this day he had no idea where Griggs' money came from, only that he had a lot of it. They'd hit a town, settle down for a while, and then move on. Griggs was always getting into fights. He'd come back to their room with his knuckles bloodied and his face twisted from being beaten, with a look in his eyes that shouted that – no matter how bad he looked – the other guy looked worse. Jude always offered to tend the older man's wounds, knowing that it would bring them closer.

Yes, Griggs needed him.

The blond man drew his mount to a stop. He was about an hour outside of town and had decided to let her rest for a few. Slipping from the animal's back, Jude tethered the horse to a tree, removed his canteen from the saddle, and then went to sit under another tree to watch the sun rise.

For the longest time it was just Griggs and him, sort of like father and son. Then, when he was fourteen, things took a turn. He'd realized by that time that he was one of those fellers who didn't like girls. Griggs always had them and all of them were pretty, but he just didn't care. There was this young fellow, also worked at the stable, that he'd taken a shine too. They worked side by side and he kept dropping hints until one day the other boy understood what he wanted. There'd been a fight and during it such a rage had risen up in him – a rage against the losses he had felt, against his lack of a family, against his feelings, which the world called perverted – against everything and anything, that he near beat the boy to death.

Then, he did other things to him.

The thing was, after that, for the first time since he had been that boy who opened the door and found his parents gone, he felt in control. He'd talked it over with Griggs who told him – after what he'd done – that he'd known that first night in the stable that he had what it 'took'. It was all about survival, his friend said.

A man takes what he needs or he dies.

From then on they traveled from town to town staying put until they wore out their welcome or some rumor of their connection to certain events in the area caused them to move on. It would have been the same here in Virginia City if Griggs hadn't found out that the woman he wanted – the redhead that got away – was working at the Bucket of Blood.

Jude capped his canteen and went to his horse. He hung it on the saddle horn and then swung up onto the animal's back. He was sorry now that he had mentioned to Griggs how Phoebe Howath felt about Little Joe Cartwright. He'd watched Joe. The handsomest Cartwright flirted with Phoebe but he never took her upstairs. He wanted Joe to like him, to grow close to him and get to know him. Maybe then, he told Griggs, maybe then...

Vickery called him a fool.

Griggs Vickery was like a spotter for the army. He didn't miss anything. He told him he'd never have Joe in that way, and the only way he could have him was to do what he told him to do. Griggs had the whole thing figured out. He'd lay in wait for Little Joe at Pointer's Arch and take him. 'As soon as you can, Jude,' he'd said, 'you follow. I'll be waiting." He'd thought Bexley might have thrown a rock before the wheel by leaving with Joe, but Griggs had taken care of that too. When he got to the Arch a few minutes after Beck and Joe arrived, he found Bexley unconscious on the ground outside the Arch and Joe within with Griggs and his bloody fists standing over him.

'All yours,' Vickery had said when he saw him, using that tone that both pleased and angered him.

Jude Lowery began to ride.

His nostrils still carried the scent of bay rum and spice, and his fingers the memory of that thick brown hair – and his heart gratitude for the gift Griggs had given him.

Jude Lowery put spurs to horse flesh and headed for town.

It was time again to move on.

Jude had no sooner disappeared around a cluster of trees than another rider appeared on the road. He walked, leading his mount instead of riding it, and kept to the side where the shadows were thick. The man went to the rock where Lowery had been sitting and checked for signs on the ground. Rising quickly, he returned to his horse and mounted.

It shouldn't be too hard to follow him. Even at a distance the sound of the Jude's horse's hooves striking the hard earth rang out with the resonance of a church bell on a clear cold night.

Adam Cartwright took a moment to remove the cap of his canteen and take a drink. Then, he took a handful of water and tossed it in his face. The icy chill snapped him to alert. He was tired, physically and emotionally. It had been a long day.

And it wasn't over yet.

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"Son. Son, you need to wake up!"

The voice was urgent and one he should know. Hoss Cartwright wrinkled up his nose and pried one eye open. There was a man standing beside his bed – a man with near white hair. He should know him too.

A second later he did. "Pa?"

"Hoss, get up and get dressed. We need to ride."

The big man looked at the window. It was still dark, though the first hint of dawn was coloring the sky a pale pink. If they needed to ride now, that meant the need was big. Instantly alert, Hoss threw off his covers and tossed his feet over the side of the bed. After a moment of fighting the sickness that came with being suddenly awakened, he stood. The dawning light spilled in his unshuttered window, striking his father's face.

It was cast in fear.

"What is it, Pa?" Hoss said as he began to unbutton his nightshirt in preparation for taking it off.

"Your brother's gone."

"Which brother?" He hadn't seen Adam or Joe when he'd come in. Still, from his father's agitation, he had a pretty good idea which one he meant.

"Adam is not home yet, but it's not your older brother I'm worried about," the silver-haired man said as he headed for the door. "I just found Phoebe nearly senseless on the floor. She was desperate to tell us. Joseph knows about Griggs Vickery and he's gone to find him."

Before he went to bed, he'd told his father what he and Adam had learned about Phoebe's attacker. "How long's Joe been gone?" Hoss asked as he reached for his trousers.

"There's no way of knowing how long it was before Phoebe stumbled out of bed and I found her. I'm praying it's not been too long."

Hoss picked up his shirt and shoved an arm into one sleeve. "Any idea where Joe was headed?"

"Nothing specific. Phoebe thought he would head to town since that's where Vickery is staying." His father paused. His tone reflected his face. "She also said that after he beat her, Vickery threatened to kill Joe."

The big man reached for his coat, which he had slung over a chair the night before. "For gosh sakes, Pa, why? What'd Little Joe ever do to him?"

"'Why', Hoss? For the same reason Cain rose up and killed Abel. Jealousy." His father paused. "Apparently the initial attack on Joseph was done for the same reason. Vickery wanted to hurt Joe for the attentions he was showing Phoebe, and...ruin Joe's reputation."

Bile rose in his throat. "Was Vickery the one what done...?"

"No. Phoebe said he has an accomplice, a man who...likes men. She didn't know who it was."

"In other words," Hoss said as rage replaced queasiness, "whether Vickery did it or not, he's the one responsible. Pa, I'm gonna break him in two!"

His father crossed to him and placed his hand on his arm. "Son, I feel the same way, but right now we have to concentrate on finding your brother and stopping Joe before he gets himself killed. Son, are you listening?"

It was hard. Hard to bank the rage. Harder still, to think that the man might slip away from them and never pay for what he done. Hardest of all to surrender to the truth that, no matter how much he wanted to kill Griggs Vickery – if he did – he'd be no better than him.

Hoss nodded. "I'll go saddle the horses," he said.

"Good. I'll wake Hop Sing and tell him he's in charge of Phoebe and the house until we return."

"Pa, you think we ought to try to find Adam?"

The older man was at the door. He turned back. "Yes, we should, but there's no time. Joe's good at finding trouble, but trouble is even better at finding Joe."

Ten minutes later they were on their way.

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Adam followed Jude Lowery into town and watched him enter the stable. Though he didn't know how this man who claimed to be his brother's friend was connected to the one called Vickery, instinct told him he was. When he thought about it, it made sense that the attack on Joe would have been perpetrated by two men instead of one. After all, Bexley Lanahan had been put out of commission at almost the same moment Joe was attacked. Most likely Joe had been restrained by one while the other...

The man in black stopped and reached out and caught hold of one of the hitching rails to steady himself as a rage rose in him like none he had ever known. A rage so deep and so wide, it opened like a chasm before him and dared him to plunge in and lose his way again. He closed his eyes and reached for something beautiful – the face of his mother as he knew it from the portrait his father had, his pa himself, strong and wise; the first time Marie had placed his baby brother in his arms. There was good in the world and it was stronger than evil.

It was.

While he stood there, building strength to rise above the black anger that threatened to claim him, Lowery left the stable and headed for the hotel. Adam waited until the blond man had entered it and then followed at a safe distance behind. Though he had only a vague idea of what Vickery looked like – gleaned from the ramblings of the man who operated the livery – Adam didn't think he would be hard to spot. He'd look like every physically powerful man he had ever known who preyed on those weaker than himself. He'd look like every bully who had ever tied up or restrained a man and found pleasure in beating him when he couldn't fight back.

He'd look like the face of Hell.

Adam pulled his gun from the holster as he walked, gripping the handle so hard his knuckles went white. The more he thought about these men doing those things to his baby brother – the brother God had given him to teach, to love and protect – the more he had to fight down the instinct to shoot Vickery on sight. Not that the brute didn't deserve it. He did. And it wasn't the law's punishment he feared. No, not that. It was just that death was too easy. He wanted Vickery to suffer the way all of those whose lives he had sullied and defiled had suffered.

The way Joe was suffering now.

Pistol in hand Adam moved along the boardwalk in front of the shops and saloons, hugging the shadows, taking care not to be seen. He was almost to the hotel when a sense of movement in the alley beside it caught his attention. The man in black halted and looked and realized there was a slender young man there One who acted much as he did – sticking to the shadows and moving furtively. A young man who had stopped dead in his tracks and was staring back at him. Adam didn't know how he knew, but he did.

It was Joe.

The crazy kid was going to get himself killed.

Adam left the shadows and stepped into the light and opened his mouth to call his brother. As he did, two things happened – Joe jerked back and disappeared into the dark and someone behind him snorted. Instantly on the alert, Adam pivoted on his heel ready for anything.

Well, not quite anything.

There was no time to duck. One fist struck his chin and another his stomach.

Folding under the assault, he plunged to the ground.

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Adam woke sometime later to soft hands and a gentle voice.

"Adam? Son? Can you hear me?"

Yes, he could hear him. Seeing him was another matter. "Pa?"

Adam pried one swollen eyelid open. He reached up and felt his lip. It was swollen too and bleeding. "I take it I found Vickery?"

"Looks like he done found you, big brother," Hoss said, worry in his voice.

He thought a moment. "Help me up."

"Adam, I was going to send Hoss for Doc Martin," his father said as he felt the older man's hand encircle his arm and lend him strength to rise.

He wobbled a bit and blinked, waiting for his head to clear. There was something he needed to remember. Something a fist in the face had driven out. "What are you two doing here?"

His father got that look – the one he had worn for nineteen years now. "We came to find Joe."

"Little brother done found out about Vickery, Adam," his brother said. "He came to town to find him and –"

Joe! Dear Lord! How could he have forgotten? Adam tossed a horrified look at his father and before either of them could stop him, ran full tilt across the mostly deserted road.

"Adam, wait! Adam!" he heard his father shout.

He ignored him. Adam plunged into the alley and cast about the shadows as if he could part them like a curtain and see where his brother had gone. His only consolation was that the effort wasn't rewarded by finding Joe's battered and bloody corpse. What he did find nearly broke him. Joe's pearl-handled pistol, laying on the ground. Bloodied.

Adam knelt and picked it up and cradled it against him like it was the child he had failed to save.

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Ben Cartwright hesitated at the end of the alley. The early morning light penetrating it revealed his son, Adam, kneeling on the ground. As Hoss came to his side and began to move past, the silver-haired man put out a hand to stop him.

"Pa?" the big man asked, a world of worry and confusion contained in that one word.

The older man glanced at him. "Stay here, Hoss, or better yet, go into the hotel and ask if anyone saw Griggs Vickery leave – and while you're there, see if you can confirm the description of him."

His son was staring at his brother. "What about Adam?"

"I'll see to Adam." Ben inclined his head toward the hotel. "Now, go."

"Yes, sir."

As he approached his oldest boy, Ben heard a stifled sob. When he placed a hand on his son's shoulder he felt him tremble.

"Son?"

His eldest rose to his feet. He stood before him, head down, like a little boy shamed. Adam drew in a shuddering breath and let it out in a sigh. "I lost him, Pa. I...lost Joe."

Fear gripped him, and not only for Joe. "What do you mean?"

His son shifted to reveal what he had in his hands. It was Joe's gun. There was blood on the handle. Ben took it, looked at it, and then tucked it behind his belt.

Adam's jaw was tight. "They've got him, Pa. Vickery and Jude, they've got him."

Ben blinked. "Jude? You mean Jude Lowery?"

Adam nodded. "Yeah, Pa. Jude. You were right about him all along."

There were mysteries within mysteries here. "Adam, what is this about your brother?"

"I saw him, Pa. Right here." Adam closed his eyes against what his inner eye must be showing him. Joe struck on the back of the head. Joe being beaten and driven into the dirt. Joe being... "I tracked Lowery in from outside of town and watched him go into the hotel. I was following him when I saw someone moving here, in the alley." His son reached up and touched his chin. "Just about the time I realized it was Joe, someone slugged me."

"How long ago was this?"

Adam glanced at the rising sun as he rose to his feet. "Hard to say. Half an hour. Maybe forty-five minutes."

"You're sure it was Joe?"

His son swung around to look at him. Adam's hazel eyes were haunted. "It was Joe."

Ben moved past him and began to search the alley for any sign of what had transpired. There had to be something to tell them which way the men who had taken Joe had gone. He'd been at it a minute or so when Adam spoke.

"Pa."

Ben turned to look at him. "Yes, son?"

Adam's face wrinkled with remorse. "I'm sorry, Pa. I should have been able to protect Joe. Now, and two weeks ago." His son closed his eyes and shuddered again, his whole body expressing pain. "I was so close, Pa, so close – seconds away – and I failed him." His eyes opened. "I failed you. I failed the family."

The older man moved to his son's side, sensing he needed rescuing nearly as much as Joseph. Ben touched him and looked into his eyes. "Yes, Adam, you failed."

He felt his eldest flinch.

"I failed too. I left Joseph alone with Phoebe and she told him about Vickery. I sent Joe out into that criminal's arms."

"Pa, no."

"Adam, yes," he said firmly. "We all fail. You have to let failure be your teacher, not your undertaker. Think of failure as delay, boy, and not defeat." He paused. "It is something we can only avoid by doing nothing."

Adam remained silent for a moment and then seemed to come back to himself. "Thanks, Pa," he said with a shy smile.

He looked so like his mother when he did that.

"Pa?"

They both turned at the sound of Hoss' voice.

"Did you find anything out, son?" Ben asked as he and Adam approached him.

"The clerk at the desk saw Griggs Vickery leave the hotel about an hour back – with Jude Lowery."

Adam nodded. "They're in it together. I don't know entirely how."

"Did anyone know where they went?"

"There was a boy, Pa. He works in the kitchen." Hoss paused to swallow over his fear. "The boy saw the men in the alley slinging another man on a horse. They headed south."

"Did either of them say where they were going?"

"That's the thing, Pa. Vickery mentioned the Ponderosa."

A pit opened in his stomach. Griggs Vickery had Joe.

He wanted Phoebe too.

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Joe awoke to the smell of sweat and horsehair. His back ached and his ribs were on fire. As his brain attempted to process what all of that meant, a pair of rough hands gripped him and dragged him face first across a saddle and then deposited him roughly on the ground.

"Welcome home, Cartwright," a man said, his voice laced with irony.

Joe looked up and saw he was home. For a moment the relief he felt at the sight of the familiar split rail house with its broad beams was more palpable than the pain. But only for a moment. All too quickly the reality of his condition screamed a clarion warning. He'd been beaten again, not badly but precisely, and in places meant to kill.

"Jude, get him up!" a brusque voice ordered.

Seconds later another set of hands gripped him. Whoever it was caught him under the arms, careful to avoid the places that were bruised. Joe turned to confirm what he feared and saw it was Jude Lowery – his friend. Jude's face was expressionless.

"Thanks...buddy," Joe breathed. "Thanks for...nothing."

Jude ignored him. He looked up at the man Joe could only assume was Vickery. "What are you going to do, Griggs?" Jude asked.

His answer was a sneer and another order. "Bring Cartwright inside," the tall man said as he headed for the door. "We'll get the girl and then you'll see what I intend to do."

Lowery didn't move. "Griggs, you said...I could have him. You promised."

Joe frowned. "What?"

"Shut up, Joe," Jude whispered close to his ear. Then he said to Griggs, "He's mine. Not yours."

Griggs Vickery strode over to them and loomed above them both. "You're mine, Lowery. You will always be mine. You do what I say or I'll kill your pretty boy right now with my bare hands – right here – and make you watch."

Joe shivered in the man's shadow. He'd seen a lot in his short life – killing and stealing, cheating, and more – but he didn't think he had ever seen pure evil.

Not until now.

"You can kill me, Vickery," Joe snarled, "but you'll be killing yourself. Once my Pa and my brothers know you took me, they'll be here – "

Quicker than thought the villain took him by the collar, ripped him from Lowery's arms, lifted him off of the ground and thrust him against one of the porch poles. As he struggled to escape, Vickery snarled, "I'm counting on it." Then, with a twist of his wrist, the tall man threw him – with force – against the front door of the house. As he lay there, trying to catch his breath, the brute crouched beside him. "You're only alive because old Jude there fancies you. I humored him before, but I tell you, Cartwright, I'm done with that. Tonight, youand that cheating bitch die."

"You...you mean Phoebe?" he stammered.

Vickery's eyes narrowed and something passed through them – something beyond the desire to kill. It was a visceral need. Griggs Vickery's face puckered like he'd eaten a lemon. "What was it like, pretty boy?" The brute's eye flicked to Jude where he stood to the side, watching, saying nothing. "Having someone use you like you used her?"

Joe's head was ringing. He was having a hard time processing everything. He knew Vickery thought he and Phoebe had known each other, but what was he saying?

Suddenly everything fell into place.

'You do what I say or I'll kill your pretty boy right now...'

It hadn't been Vickery. It was Jude.

Jude had...

Joe sucked in air and fought back the tears. He would not cry in front of Vickery. Not now. Not ever.

Griggs Vickery rose to his feet. He turned to Jude and then indicated him with a nod. "You get Cartwright on his feet, Lowery, and you get him inside or I will kill both of you."

Seconds later Jude was at his side. He put his arms around his waist again and lifted him up. Joe fought to escape him, not wanting him to touch him, not wanting those hands on him again – not wanting to hear that voice.

"Joe," Jude whispered, desperate. "Joe, listen to me. You gotta trust me. I won't let him kill you. I couldn't..."

"Trust you?" Joe shot back. "Why the Hell would I trust you?"

Lowery's fingers possessively encircled his throat.

"Who else do you have, Joe?"

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Their horses thundered down the Virginia City road, Ben Cartwright and his sons. Like a force of nature they descended on their home, certain of their cause, unsure of their success, but united in their desire to save the one they loved. Surely God would not abandon them when their cause was just, when their desire was to see justice overcome injustice. Good triumph over evil.

To see the angels reign.

Ben glanced at the sons who rode to either side of him, their faces grim, determined, their hearts bent on rescuing their baby brother. They, like he, felt the call of the ties that bound them – the call of love and of blood.

These men – these animals – had not only taken Joe, but now they invaded their home, threatening to sully the place where they all found rest with the blood of one of their own.

Ben Cartwright glanced at his eldest who nodded and then at Hoss, who did the same. Digging spurs into horse flesh they urged their mounts on, calling upon the tired animals to give everything they had, to give it all, even if it meant their deaths.

Just as they would do.

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FOURTEEN

The first thing Joe saw as he was dragged into the house was Hop Sing laying on the floor near the kitchen, his hands and feet bound, his mouth gagged. The second was Phoebe. She had been flung on the settee and remained there in a tiny heap, softly crying. Jude deposited him next to her and then went to check upstairs, ordered by Vickery to make sure no one else was at home. Joe didn't think anyone was as his pa and brothers' horses were gone, but he held his breath, waiting, frightened that his recklessness would bring death to someone he loved.

Phoebe moaned and Joe scooted closer to her, wanting to make physical contact so that – even in her foggy state – she would know she was not alone. He pressed his body against hers and felt as much as heard her draw in a shuddering breath.

"I'm so...sorry...Joe," Phoebe whispered.

"Don't give up hope," he pleaded, his lips pressed against her hair. "There's always hope."

Vickery was standing by the gun rack, examining his pa's rifles. "Lowery!" he called. "What's taking you so long. Get down here!"

Jude appeared at the top of the staircase. "All clear up here," he said as he started down the steps. "What do you want, Griggs?"

The tall man in the suit palmed one of the rifles and then moved to the area of the hearth. "I have a present for you, Jude."

As Lowery hit the floor, he asked, "What present?"

Vickery turned toward him. "You have to come here to get it."

Jude advanced a few steps into the room and halted.

Vickery crooked a finger.

Like a moth to the flame Jude Lowery moved forward, halting only when the tall man's muscular frame blocked his way. "I'm going to give you what you want," Vickery said, "Cartwright's life." As Jude visibly relaxed the bully held out the gun. "It's yours to take."

Jude shook his head and stepped back. "No. Not this time, Griggs. Not him."

"Why is he any different from the ones before? From the Fitzgerald boy you fancied? You have to choose, Jude," the tall man said softly. "Cartwright or me. You can't have both."

"No..."

"If you love him, Lowery, you're going to have to kill me." Vickery's voice was soft as a snake's underbelly. "If you love me, then kill him."

It was clear a rift was opening between the two men. Joe glanced at Phoebe where she slumped beside him. She was incapable of running even if an opportunity to escape presented itself. He didn't want to leave her. Or Hop Sing. Short of running, there was one thing he could try –

He could try to open the rift as wide as possible.

"Jude!" he called out. As both men turned toward him, he began to plead. "Don't listen to him. Jude. Don't let him kill me. I want to be with you."

Vickery strode over to him and backhanded him so hard his teeth rattled.

"Shut up, Cartwright," the bully ordered as he leaned in and closed his fingers, not around Joe's throat, but Phoebe's. "You keep your mouth shut or Iwillsnap her neck." Vickery sneered. "You know I will."

Joe winced as the redhead gasped. "All right," he agreed. "Let her go!"

Vickery barked a laugh and released her. Phoebe made a little sound and then pitched sideways unconscious. Joe caught her and laid her head on the settee arm. It was probably for the best. What he was about to do was dangerous and he didn't want her to pay if it ended up being a mistake.

As Vickery stepped away, Joe turned his attention to Jude Lowery who lingered near the stairs. He sought and held the other man's gaze, not letting go. Joe put everything he could of the pain and fear and helplessness he had felt for the last two weeks into that gaze, hoping it would make Lowery think he was vulnerable, that he couldn't make it without him – that he needed him to survive.

That he needed him more than Griggs Vickery did.

A myriad of emotions flashed in Jude's blue eyes, all of them desperate and most of them misplaced. As Vickery once again offered him the gun, the blond man shook his head and took a step back.

"Don't...make...me...choose, Griggs," he warned, biting off each word. "You may not like what I choose."

Vickery's response was cold as the grave.

"You have no choice, you worm. You're nothing without me, Lowery, and you know it. What are you gonna do? Shack up with pretty boy here?" Vickery snorted. "His pa and brothers would rip you apart for even thinking it." The bully raised his hands and formed them into fists. "You've felt these before. Since you want it so bad, I'll give you a choice. You can watch me break him in two or you can kill Cartwright with that," he indicated the rifle, "and make it quick and merciful. Either way he has to die. He has to die before he fingers both of us."

Jude's body shook from head to toe. He hung his head. "All right, I'll take him outside –"

"No," Vickery said. "You'll do it here."

Joe stiffened as Griggs Vickery headed his way. The pair had not bound him – they probably thought he was too weak to attempt an escape. He glanced at Phoebe, knowing the action he was about to take would either doom or save her. Still, there was little else he could do.

If he was dead, she was dead too.

As Vickery reached the settee Joe rose as if ready to meet his fate. At the last second – as the villain reached for him – he appeared to stumble and then, with everything he had left in him, he struck the tall man below his center of gravity, throwing him off balance. Vickery tumbled over the settee table. He struck his head on the edge of hearth and fell to the floor dazed.

Joe shot a look at Jude who appeared to be just as stunned and then bolted for the front door. With a quick prayer, asking for protection for Phoebe, he threw it open and stumbled out into the rising light. Where should he go? Where in all of the Ponderosa would he be safe?

Where –

A bellow sounded from the house. Vickery was awake.

There was nothing to do but run.

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The light was breaking in the east. They were almost there. Almost. The Ponderosa lay no more than ten minutes before them. This ride to his ranch had seemed to Ben the longest in his life. What would they find when they arrived? Could he muster the courage to open the door? Images of his youngest laying on the floor in a pool of blood, his neck twisted, his body broken and the life gone from his slender form, swam before his waking eyes.

If the worst happened – could he ever walk through that door again?

The three of them had decided to split when they reached the ranch and to approach it from different sides. The plan was to enter the house from the back, front, and side, and to close the net, hopefully trapping Vickery and Lowery within. Since men like Vickery were, in fact, cowards, and usually cared only for their own skin, it was his hope that they would surrender. If not – if it came to it – he was ready to kill. His home and his son were being threatened. It would be self-defense, and if a jury was called and decided otherwise, it would be worth it. He would go to prison.

His son would be alive.

As the ranch appeared through the overhanging branches, Adam reached out and caught Buck's reins and drew the animal to a halt.

"Pa!" he said in a terse whisper. "Pa! Joe!"

Ben looked just in time to see his youngest son turn a corner and disappear.

Griggs Vickery came roaring out of the house directly behind him.

Adam's gun was out and aimed in a half-second, but it was too late.

Both men vanished into the trees.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Joe heard Griggs Vickery beating the brush behind him, bellowing anger and hate. There was no doubt in his mind, if the bully caught him he was dead. He was smaller than Vickery and probably quicker on his feet, but he was also beyond exhausted and breathing hard and it wouldn't be very long before he stumbled or did something stupid and that would be it. Glancing behind, he saw a tree branch bend and then snap up. He was only seconds ahead of the other man. He had to find a place to hide. Some sort of bolt hole where he could disappear and then maybe Vickery would pass him by.

Vickery and Jude.

It still tore at him, the betrayal, but he didn't really have time to process it. All he could do now was put one foot in front of the other and push past endurance to keep running and running so his heart could beat one more minute, so he could draw another breath. So –

A shot rang out, the bullet striking a tree near his head.

Vickery had a gun.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The three of them were off their horses. As Adam sped off into the trees Ben sent Hoss into the house. His son returned less than a minute later to tell him that he had found Hop Sing and left him to look after Phoebe who was alive but in bad shape.

Two heartbeats later they were running after Adam and Joe.

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The man Adam followed crashed through the trees like an enraged bull, leaving a trail a greenhorn could follow, obviously beyond caring whether or not he was caught – which made him all the more dangerous. Here he was again – a split second behind – a split second that could mean the difference between life and death for Joe. If Vickery caught his brother before he got there, the brute could snap his neck in a heartbeat. He couldn't fail this time – he couldn't risk losing that second.

Couldn't risk losing Joe.

Pushing his weary body even harder Adam put on a burst of speed, outdistancing his father and brother even as he heard them call his name.

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Joe halted – if for only a second – at the sound of his pa's voice. He heard it ring out through the trees, calling for Adam. They were here! Pa and his brothers were here! They'd come to rescue him, to bring him to safety, to put an end to the threat of Griggs Vickery and Jude Lowery, and to the horror of what had happened that night two weeks before.

As another shot rang out, striking the ground near his feet, his pa shouted again. Hesitant to turn away from that beloved voice Joe began to run, moving backwards for the first few feet and then turning –

Just in time to feel his foot slip into a badger hole.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Adam ran for all he was worth. He'd almost caught up to Vickery. In fact the tail of the villain's expensive suit coat had been within arm's length when the tall man let out a whoop of triumph and bolted forward faster than he would have thought possible. Adam stumbled, but righted himself and pressed forward, his heart thundering in his chest, pounding against the bone, working to drive the breath and sense out of him, to make him fall –

To make him fail Joe again.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Joe felt Vickery grip his collar and haul him up. He cried out as his ankle twisted in the hole, the bones breaking. He heard his father shout again in the distance, still searching for Adam. So close, Joe thought as Vickery's hands closed on his throat, so close...

And yet, forever away.

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Ben Cartwright was out of breath but he kept running. Sweat streamed down his face and the face of the son who ran beside him. This was one of those moments where life hung by a fragile thread and death loomed above holding a sword. He called out to Adam but his eldest son ignored him. He could only hope that meant he had his brother in sight.

As he ran, the older man prayed to the God he loved, 'Teach me to do your will, for you are my God; let your good Spirit lead me on level ground.

'Let your good Spirit lead me to my son.'

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Adam halted. Griggs Vickery was leaning over his brother, a rifle in one hand and the other closing on Joe's throat. His brother wasn't struggling and that opened a pit in his stomach from which a blackness rolled that threatened to take him with it.

"Vickery!" he shouted as he pointed his gun at him.

The bastard released Joe and let him fall to the ground. Vickery straightened up then and turned toward him, a sneer lifting his lip.

"Get away from Joe! Now!" Adam ordered.

Vickery spread his arms wide. "Go ahead, Cartwright. Murder me and I'll see you in Hell!"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ben Cartwright broke through the trees with Hoss at his side. They saw Adam, and then Joe lying motionless on the ground. Griggs Vickery was standing between them, rifle in hand, baiting Adam to shoot.

The older man looked at his son. Hoss nodded.

Three bullets struck the fiend at the same time.

They never knew which one killed him.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Adam pushed the dead man aside and knelt beside his brother. He lacked the courage to feel for a pulse. Joe was so pale, so...still. The marks from Vickery's fingers were growing dark on his brother's throat. He glanced at his father and other brother who had come to stand silently at his side.

"Pa?"

The older man did not hesitate but came and knelt beside him. He reached out and placed his hand on Joe's chest and then turned to him with a weak smile.

"He's alive, Adam. You saved him. You saved Joe."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The ranch house was not far away, but the walk through the woods bearing Joe's battered form back was one of the longest any of them had ever taken. Hop Sing was waiting for them as they entered. Efficient as ever, the Chinese man had returned Phoebe to her bed and then roused one of the hands and sent him to town for the doctor. They bore Joe up to his bed and tucked him in tight, leaving an exhausted Adam to keep watch. Then he and Hoss descended the stairs. It wasn't over.

There was still the matter of Jude Lowery.

Hop Sing told them upon their arrival at the house that, upon waking, Vickery had ordered Jude to go with him and when he refused, had used the butt of the rifle to strike Lowery and send him to the ground. The blond man had lain there senseless for some time and then slowly climbed to his feet. He'd gone to the sofa to check on Phoebe and then, to their cook's surprise, had untied him before stumbling out the door.

Ben wondered now if Lowery had followed – if he had been watching when Vickery tried to kill his son and was killed himself instead. Was Jude still in the woods beyond the house? Or had he run away, fearing he would be next?

The answer to the question was none of the above. When he and Hoss found the blond man a few hours later, tucked in the crook of a tumble of rocks only a few hundred feet out from the house, Jude was dead.

He had blown his brains out.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Strong hands gripped his shoulders as Joe coughed and pitched over to one side. He started to panic, but then he recognized the room he was in. He also recognized the touch. He had known it for nineteen years now – it and its assurances and strength.

Forcing a smile, his throat raw and rough, he said, "Hey, big...brother."

"Here, Joe, take a drink." Adam lifted him up and held the cup to his lips and then let him down gently so his sore body rested against the pillows on his bed. "Doc Martin says you shouldn't talk."

He blinked back pain-induced tears. "Vickery?"

"Got what he deserved," Adam replied, his jaw tight.

"You?"

Adam snorted. "All of us, Joe. All of us."

He hated to be treated like a little kid but there were times, like this, when being able to trust to others to keep him safe gave him a reason for being the youngest. Sleep was beckoning – pulling at him really – but he fought it off.

Joe drew a breath, almost afraid to ask. "Jude?"

His brother hesitated. "Dead too. Now, Joe, come on. Settle down. You need to rest. Doctor's orders."

Adam stood. He lifted his brother up gently again and repositioned his pillow. As he did, Joe reached out and caught his arm.

"Thanks, big brother."

The black-haired man stared at him for a moment and then did something he hadn't done since Joe was a little boy. He bent down and brushed his brother's forehead with his lips.

"Thank God, Joe. Thank God."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ben closed the door behind him, leaving Doctor Martin with Phoebe. The girl had passed a rough night, but appeared to be mending and Paul thought she would make it. Joseph didn't appear to be in any danger, though the physician said it was close. The blows Griggs Vickery had given him were meant to do damage to his internal organs, but for some reason had failed to do so. The older man ran a hand across his face and glanced up. "For some reason," he muttered.

God had something yet for his son to do.

Crossing to the big blue chair Ben dropped into it, weary beyond expressing in words. As he did Hoss came out of the kitchen carrying a steaming pot of coffee. He looked at him and asked, "You want a cup, Pa?"

Ben considered it and then nodded. After returning to the house with Joe there had been so much to do that none of them had gone to bed. They had caught a few hours sleep here and there in the chairs by the fire, but for the most part had been up twenty-four hours. Once Paul finished with Phoebe they would go upstairs to rest. He supposed coffee was not the smartest course considering. It just sounded good.

"Thanks, son," he said as he accepted a cup.

Hoss filled his own cup and, after placing the pot on the side table, sat down on the edge of the big one before the fire. After a second he sighed and shook his head. "For some reason, I cain't stop thinkin' about Jude Lowery, Pa."

He took a sip and then nodded. "I feel the same way."

"What'd he go and kill hisself for?"

Ben sighed. It was hard to give even an ounce of humanity to a man who did what Jude Lowery had done, and yet, he was a man. "It sounds like Jude was completely dominated by Vickery from the time he was a young impressionable boy, and though the choices Lowery made were his – and were entirely wrong – one has to wonder how much choice he had in making them." At Hoss' look, he added, "I'm not making excuses for the horrible thing Jude did. There are no excuses. But there are reasons. Each man fights the demons within. Jude's won."

"You mean he couldn't live with what he done?"

"Apparently Joe was not the first victim. Other than the Fitzgerald boy, Roy thinks Lowery and Vickery had repeated this pattern at least a half-dozen times, settling into a new town, choosing their victims. attacking them for power and...sick pleasure, and then moving on." Ben glanced at the guest room. "Phoebe proved to be Vickery's undoing."

"He loved her?"

"Only as a man of that nature could. Griggs Vickery had no love of a woman and her gentle spirit and beauty, no desire to walk and live by her side, no will to give to her more than he would take. Vickery wanted only to dominate, to possess, and to control. When he found out Phoebe loved Joe instead of him, he couldn't take it." Ben drew in a breath. "He decided he had to eliminate his rival and did it in the most despicable manner. Vickery didn't want Joseph dead in the beginning, just humiliated and destroyed."

"That changed 'cause we was on to him, right?"

"Yes. Once Vickery realized that his part in the attack on Joe was known, he decided he had to eliminate anyone who could identify him. Phoebe knew him. Joe knew him from the attack. They both had to die."

Hoss paused. "It sure was close, Pa."

"Too close," the older man agreed. "But it's done now. Your brother is alive and safe."

The big man looked at him. "Is it, Pa? Is it 'done'? What happened to Joe, well, it ain't a thing a man can easily accept."

Ben closed his eyes, thinking of Thomas Slade. Thomas was introspective and unlike Joe, had a cautious personality. The naval officer rarely took risks but stood on solid ground and, when that ground was shaken, had not been able to survive. "Your brother, Hoss, wounds easily and feels things deeply, but he has a resiliency I have seldom seen in a man before. Joe's strong and, most of all, fearless. Your brother looks the crouching mountain lion in the eye and then counts to ten before he shoots." Ben shook his head with affection. "If anyone can survive this, it's Joe. And you have to remember, he has us."

"What about Adam, Pa?"

Ah, yes. What about Adam?

Adam was like Joe in that he felt things deeply, but he had a harder shell. The problem with that was, while it kept his oldest from being easily wounded on the outside, it also keep the wounds inside. "Adam will be all right, but we'll have to look for ways to help him. He won't ask."

At that moment a sound on the stair attracted his attention and he turned to find the latest topic of their discussion descending.

"How's Joe?" Hoss asked, rising.

"Is that fresh coffee?" Adam asked, pointing toward the pot.

"Sure as shootin'. You want a cup?"

Adam smiled as he took a seat. "More than anything."

"Son, you should go to bed," the older man advised.

"I will, Pa, soon as Doc Martin fills us in on both Phoebe and Joe."

"How is your brother?"

"Sleeping." Adam paused. "Joe asked about Jude Lowery."

His father nodded. "What did you tell him?"

"That he was dead," his eldest said bluntly.

As Hoss handed the cup to his brother, Ben said, "You have to let go of the hate, son. It can't hurt Jude – he's beyond it now – but it will eat you up inside."

Adam put the cup down and leaned forward, dropping his hands between his knees. "I know, Pa, it's just..." He hesitated and then said, "I can't say I know for certain, but I believe I know what...this would do to me. When I think of Joe going through the rest of his life wondering, maybe doubting himself..." He watched as his son's fingers balled into fists and he began to shake. "No one – no man has a right to do that to another man."

Ben walked over to his eldest and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Adam, no man can see into another man's soul. All we can do for Joe is be here for him when he needs us – and son, he needs us whole."

Adam's hand fell on his. "I know, Pa. I know."

At that moment the door to Phoebe's room opened and Doc Martin stepped out.

"Now, come on, son. Let's talk to Paul."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The sun set and he went to bed, but he didn't stay there long. Awakened by a nightmare of loss, Ben Cartwright rose from his bed, put on his robe, and headed for the stairs. He was just about to descend when a sound from the other end of the hall drew him that way. Moving quietly, he followed it to the door of his youngest's room. He couldn't be certain, but he thought Joseph was crying.

Opening the door a crack, he called Joe's name softly, giving his son time to compose himself before he entered the room.

"Come in, Pa."

Ben entered and went to him. After brushing his son's battered forehead with his lips, he sat in the chair beside him.

"How are you, son?"

Joe was halfway up the pillows, not quite sitting, but not laying down. His covers had fallen away exposing a chest covered with fresh bruises. The imprint of fingers on the tender flesh of his throat were there again as they had been at the beginning, a reminder of the nature of the men who had attacked him and their crime.

His son shrugged. "I'm not sure how I am, Pa."

Ben sat back in the chair. "Can you tell me about it?"

Joe pursed his lips. A second later he shook his head. After that, they sat in silence until the boy turned to look at him. His son's voice was rough, ragged from the attack and the emotion behind the age-old question he asked.

"Why do things like this happen, Pa? I thought the Good Book said all things work together for those who love God."

Ben paused before answering. "I'm not sure I have an answer to that, Joe. Sometimes the only answer is not to know. When you know your Father in Heaven is all powerful and all seeing, then you know that – no matter what happens – it is within His will."

Joe swallowed. "How can this be within His will?" he asked in a small voice.

The older man leaned forward and covered his son's hand with his own. "I asked the same questions when your mother died, leaving me alone to rear three boys. Had I done something wrong? Was God punishing me? How could the death of such a wonderful woman at such a young age be His will?" Ben paused. "You know, son, I never found the answers, but what I did find was peace in the knowledge that God was in control."

Joe looked down. "I don't feel at peace, Pa." His jaw tightened. "I'm..angry. At God. And at..." he drew a deep breath. "Jude."

"Joe, look at me." He waited until his son obeyed. "God can take your anger. It isn't a sin to be angry, it isn't a sin to doubt, it's only a sin when you shut God out. He's your father too," he said softly, "and He too had a hurting child. His child died. He saved mine." Ben fought back tears. "You go ahead and be angry. I'll do enough praising for the both of us."

Joe was silent a moment. "Adam said Jude was dead."

"Yes."

Joe's green eyes shot to his face. "I'm glad."

"Are you son?"

"He got what he deserved."

Ben hesitated. "It's what we all deserve, Joe," he said at last.

"Pa? What?"

"Don't get me wrong," Ben continued as anger infused his words and he felt once again his finger on the trigger and saw the look in Griggs Vickery's eyes when he knew he was going to die. "Vickery and Lowery deserved to pay for what they did. But while Vickery was pure evil, I think Jude lost his way. You said he didn't want to kill you."

"That's because he wanted me, Pa!" Joe snapped. "Like a girl!"

"Joe, don't let Jude's demons become your own," he said evenly, concerned for the first time since their talk had begun. "What Jude wanted has nothing to do with what you are. He had to be sick or he wouldn't have done what he did."

"You mean what he did to me?" his son asked, his voice tense.

"I mean what Jude did to himself. Joseph, Jude Lowery killed himself."

"He...what?"

"In the end, he couldn't live with what he had done."

Joe's lower lip trembled like it had when he was a little boy. When he spoke, a bit of the fire had gone out of his tone. "Well, I have to live with it."

Ben left the chair and sat at his son's side on the bed. "Yes, you do, and it will make you stronger." At Joe's look he went on, "Joseph, no matter how much falls on us, we have to keep plowing ahead. That's the only way to keep the road clear. Yes, you'll carry scars from this – we all will – but scars are not signs of weakness, they are the signs of survival and of endurance."

Joe sniffed and the tears began to fall.

Ben gathered his boy into his arms and waited for the calm after the storm.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

EPILOGUE

It was early morning and outside the windows of the Ponderosa ranch house snow was falling. It blanketed the land, hiding the scars of a troublesome autumn and washing everything white and new. Joe Cartwright had awakened early that morning and was ready for the day to begin. Though the blows inflicted by Griggs Vickery had not proved fatal, they had been serious. His recovery had been a long one. This was the first day he was to be allowed out of the house and he was raring to go in spite of the fact that he was still sore and had to use a crutch.

It was also the day before Christmas.

As he slowly descended the stairs to the scent of coffee and flapjacks, Joe was surprised to find he was not the only one too excited to remain asleep. Phoebe Howath was curled up in one corner of the settee. She had a throw over her lap and a book in her hand. The volume lay open, but she wasn't reading. The redhead's eyes were focused elsewhere.

On that soft silent fall of snow.

When she heard the wooden crutch strike the floor Phoebe turned and looked his way. A smile lit her striking face when she saw it was him. The redhead held out a hand to ask, 'Sit with me?'

He answered her question with a smile.

When Joe reached the settee he leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on Phoebe's head before dropping onto the cushion beside her. "You look beautiful!" he said as he anchored the crutch on the sofa arm, and meant it. She was dressed in the deep sapphire blue dress his father had bought her to replace the old one that had been ruined. Pa had given it to her early so she would have it to wear for the party tonight. Their friends were coming over to celebrate the advent of Jesus' birth with them, but the party also served another purpose – to say 'goodbye'.

It was Phoebe's last night at the Ponderosa.

The redhead blushed at the compliment. It was really cute. It seemed Phoebe had put the Bucket of Blood and the life it entailed behind, and chosen to claim the life that had been intended for her. When her mother heard what had happened, she had come to the Ponderosa and for the last two weeks had tended her child. The older woman, whose name was Hebe, had left that morning to fetch her younger children so they could enjoy the night's festivities and then, as a family, go home. As Joe looked at Phoebe, sitting there, with the morning light touching her golden-red hair and setting it on fire, he wondered how he was going to stand by and let her leave.

"How are you feeling, Little Joe?" she asked.

It had been almost a month since Griggs Vickery had nearly killed them both. Like his pa said there were scars, but they were fading.

"Like I could wrestle a grizzly," he boasted.

Phoebe laughed. She reached up to touch one of the physical scars Vickery's last beating had left – a little one to the left side of his mouth. "You look like you tackled one already." Phoebe drew a breath and let it out in a sigh. "And all because of me." Her face wrinkled with pain. "Everything happened because of me."

Joe took her hand and pressed it between his own. "Phoebe, no. Don't do that. Don't take it all on yourself." He drew his own steadying breath. "Like Pa says, everything happens for a reason. Look, you, your ma and sister and brother are a family again."

"But at what expense?" she sniffed.

Joe squeezed her fingers. "I'm okay, Phoebe. You just you worry about you."

The redhead held his gaze. She pressed her lips against his knuckles and then said quietly, "Little Joe Cartwright, I love you."

He didn't know how she meant it, whether as a kind of a brother or a friend or something more. That was all right.

He didn't know how he meant it either.

"I love you too, Phoebe," Joe said as he took her chin in his hand and leaned forward and kissed her.

On the lips.

"Well, if that don't beat all. I guess baby brother is all healed," a familiar voice cracked.

Joe turned to find Hoss and Adam leaning on the staircase railing, looking down at them. "Hey, there, brothers!" he called.

"Don't you think you might be taking things a little fast, little brother?" Adam asked.

Joe cocked one eyebrow. "Fast?" As the pair descended, he exclaimed, "Why, I've known Phoebe for almost two months!"

"So, I suppose you have Phoebe booked for every dance tonight, even with that thing?" his older brother asked, indicating the crutch.

"'Course I have."

Hoss shook his head. "And you promised to take her on a midnight walk?"

"Two, in fact," Joe smiled. "Tonight and tomorrow."

Phoebe smiled. "Remember, Little Joe, I won't be here tomorrow."

All three sobered instantly. Joe turned and touched her face again. "I know. I've been let out, remember? I'm gonna look you up tomorrow night!"

"Young lady, do you need rescuing?"

Joe laughed as he turned to find his father emerging from the wing of the house that held the kitchen. "You been bribing Hop Sing to spike the punch, Pa?" he asked.

"Giving him the recipe, actually." The silver-haired man moved into the Great Room and turned to their guest. "How are you feeling today, Phoebe?"

She looked from him to Adam, to Hoss, and then back to their father. "How else could a woman feel when surrounded by four handsome chivalrous men, but completely happy and content?" The redhead paused and then added softly, "How I will miss you all!"

His father went to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "We will miss you too, but it's time for the next chapter in your life to begin. I'm glad you decided to take me up on my proposal."

Their pa had offered to set Phoebe up in business. It seemed she had a real flare for making dresses and was going to try running a shop of her own in the town where her mother lived.

"It is more than I deserve, Ben," she said humbly.

Joe looked up to find his father looking directly at him. "You're wrong, Phoebe. It is less than you deserve for what you did for Joseph, and for all of us. Far less."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The party was a success. Everyone had a glorious time singing and dancing, eating and drinking, and when it came time for everyone to go Phoebe went too, leaving them for her own family and the promise of a new, clean, and free life.

Ben had supervised the cleaning-up – or rather, cleaned up himself along with Hop Sing. It was something he actually enjoyed doing from time to time as it let him spend time with his old friend. At the end of it, long after the sun had set and as the passing day was pushing into the new one, he stepped out on to the porch and was surprised to find Joe sitting in the chair by the table, waiting for the new day to dawn.

Crossing over to him, he touched his head. "Joseph," he said.

His youngest looked up at him. "Hey, Pa."

"How are you?" It was a question it seemed he asked at least once a day. This time he got a different answer.

"I'm okay, Pa. Really, I'm okay."

Moving to the table, he took a seat. "Oh?"

"I was reading one of Adam's books." Joe paused and laughed at his face. "You know, I do read, Pa – from time to time."

He laughed too. "What were you reading?"

Joe looked at the leather-bound tome. "It's one by Thomas Paine."

"That's deep, boy."

His son was silent a moment. "Well, Adam gave it to me. He said it helped him."

"Really? What is the matter of it?"

Joe looked at the book and then opened to the place held by a blue ribbon. "This part Adam marked, it's about what it is to be a real man."

Ben drew in a breath. What was Adam thinking?

"You want me to read it to you, Pa?"

He nodded.

Joe raised the book to where the light cast by the lantern overhead illuminated the open pages. Still, when his son read it, it seemed he already knew the passage by heart.

"It says, 'The real man smiles in trouble, gathers strength from distress, and grows brave by reflection.'" Joe closed the book and looked up at him. Then his son smiled, that smile that he had always known and not a pale reflection of it.

Everything was going to be all right.