Chapter Six

Josie flew forever. She tumbled head over heels as she soared, and her view shifted back and forth between lake and sky so quickly it made her dizzy. By the time she plunged into the chilly, wind-whipped water of Lake Tahoe, she no longer knew which way was up or where in the world Little Joe had landed. Not that it would have mattered. Having never learned to swim, Josie immediately plummeted into the depths of the lake, her water-filled boots speeding her descent. Josie watched in horror as the light above her faded, and she kicked and kicked until her legs were as leaden as her arms and her lungs screamed for air. She fought the almost overpowering desperation to take a breath, knowing that doing so would only draw water into her lungs and kill her faster. All her struggling was for naught, however, as her sodden boots and clothes dragged her farther down. Strangely, her fear faded. "Well, I guess this is it," she thought to herself as she blew out the last of the air in her lungs and watched her final breath bubble upwards.

Just then, she felt a sharp tug on her hair. Something had hold of the end of her braid, and it felt like they were trying to rip off her entire scalp. Her first thought was that she had run into some hostile Indians, but even in these last few seconds before she blacked out, Josie had the sense to realize that it was unlikely there was a band of Indians lurking twenty feet below the surface of Lake Tahoe. Whatever it was that had hold of her, however, was dragging her painfully toward the surface. Josie battled to maintain consciousness, and at last, when she thought she could struggle no more, she burst through the water's surface and raked in great gasping lungfuls of the sweet, sweet air. The pain in her scalp faded to a tingle, and as the world came back into focus, Josie realized she had her arms wrapped tightly around someone.

"Oh my god, Josie, are you ok?!"

Joe.

Josie stared at her cousin as the pair of them bobbed up and down in the still-crashing waves, and she thought she had never seen anyone so beautiful. Still drawing in grating, greedy breaths, she dropped her forehead onto his shoulder and hugged him. Quickly, though, Josie realized that she was pinioning Joe's arms, and he could no longer tread water. She loosened her grip as they started to sink, and Little Joe towed her toward an overturned chunk of what was left of their canoe. It was only about three feet long, but it was sturdy enough to keep the two of them afloat when they grabbed hold. The storm continued to beat down on them, but they held there for a time as they caught their breath.

Little Joe glanced over at Josie, whose chest was still heaving. "Did you hit your head?" Though they were only inches apart, Joe had to shout to be heard over the cracking thunder.

Josie shook her head. "Can't swim! Never learned."

Little Joe's eyes widened in shock. "How is it you never learned to swim?!"

Josie's braid had come loose when Joe used it to drag her to the surface, and she glared at him through a curtain of soaked black hair. "Can we discuss this later when we're NOT in mortal peril?!"

"Right." Joe glanced around, squinting through the rain as he tried to ascertain their position. "All right," he hollered, turning back to Josie. "We can't be more than a mile from the north shore. Hang on tight and start kicking!"

"Oh, only a mile, that's all."

Joe glared at Josie. "You got a better idea, I'd love to hear it."

Josie raked her hair out of her eyes with one hand and began to kick.

It took Josie and Little Joe two hours to battle their way through the waves to reach the shore. The storm tapered off after about thirty minutes, but the cousins, already exhausted from paddling all day, had to stop frequently to rest. Josie wished she could pull off her leaden, water-filled boots, but she knew she would need them when they finally reached the shore. The water was still churning from the storm, so every time they took a break, they lost some of their progress as the waves bore them back toward the center of the lake. Fortunately, as they drew closer to the shore, the waves began pushing them toward land instead of back out into the lake, and as the sky cleared and an angry, blood-red sunset blazed on the western horizon, Josie and Little Joe dragged themselves out of the water and collapsed side-by-side on the pebbly beach.

Neither of them had any clue how long they lay there panting as the waves rippled around their feet, but it was nearly dark when Little Joe at last sat up. Josie sat up, too, and locked her gaze on Joe's.

"Joseph. Cartwright."

Little Joe shrank back as Josie's jaw set into a hard line. "Now, Josie, let's be reasonable here. Remember, I saved your life."

Josie's hazel eyes blazed. "You wouldn't have had to save my life if your canoe had been seaworthy in the first place! What was I thinking, getting into that thing with you?! You know what the last thing Adam said to me before he left was? 'Whatever you do, don't let Joe talk you into anything.' And what did I do? I let you talk me into the most foolish idea you've ever come up with!"

"ME building a seaworthy canoe?!" Joe shouted back. "Need I remind you, my dear sister, that YOU were the one with the brilliant idea to brand the thing?! If you hadn't done that, we never would have ended up in the water! Besides, why in the world didn't you tell me you couldn't swim?! I never would have brought you out here if I'd known that."

Josie's jaw worked up and down a few times as she realized she didn't have a good answer for Joe. In truth, she just hadn't wanted to admit she couldn't do something that her cousins took for granted. "It never came up in conversation," she muttered. She dropped her head between her knees and stared at her saturated boots as she realized Joe was right. She had hidden an important piece of information from him, and it had nearly cost her life. A single tear slipped from the corner of her left eye. "Thanks for pulling me up," she whispered.

Little Joe's heart went out to Josie as he looked at her sitting there in a puddle on the rocky beach with her arms wrapped around her knees and her hair dripping. Hoss had told him how upset Josie was when Adam had called her a greenhorn the night of the mine cave-in, and he realized now just how helpless she had probably felt at times here in the West, where life often required skills she had never needed in Washington, D.C. Joe scooted over to Josie and put his arm around her shoulders. "You're welcome," he replied as he kissed her temple. "I'm just sorry I had to yank on your hair. It was the first bit of you I could reach." Josie leaned into him and let him hug her, but he kept the embrace short. "Come on." He stood and offered Josie his hand. "We need to find a decent place to camp and make a fire before it gets completely dark on us."

As Joe pulled Josie to her feet, she cast about, and then her face fell. "Oh no!" she wailed. "All of our stuff is at the bottom of the lake!"

Apart from the lump of canoe they had used for flotation as they made their way to shore and their pistols, which were still strapped securely to their hips, everything else they had brought with them was gone. Their bedrolls, their spare clothes, the two rifles Little Joe had borrowed from the rack in the living room, their canteens, and all of their food.

Josie's hands flew to her head. "I've lost my hat!"

Joe ran a hand through his wet hair, sending a fine spray flying in all directions. "Yeah, me, too. It's ok, Josie, we'll get new hats."

"Hoss bought me that hat."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Oh, and my copy of Northanger Abbey was in my bedroll!"

Joe rolled his eyes. Josie could be so much like Adam, and not in an endearing way, either. They had bigger problems right then, and she was worried about a book. "It's just a book, Josie."

Josie's eyes flashed. Little Joe could be so obtuse sometimes. "'The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel must be intolerably stupid,'" she quoted haughtily, her nose rising ever so slightly into the air.

"I do take pleasure in a good novel," Joe retorted. Then he gave Josie a devilish grin. "It's just too bad Jane Austen isn't any good."

"You and your dime novels!" Josie sighed. But she smiled back. She and Adam had recently made fun of Little Joe for enjoying the cheap, hastily written novels with their garish yellow covers and sensational titles, such as Malaeska; The Indian Wife of the White Hunter and Seth Jones, or Captives of the Wild Frontier. Josie had wondered aloud why Joe wanted to read exaggerated stories about the region where he already lived, and Adam had pointed out that the West depicted in the dime novels hardly reflected the actual experience of life on the frontier. But Ben, tired from a long day and spotting the wounded expression on his youngest son's face, had shut them both up by saying how nice it was that at least one of his children was doing more reading than talking that evening, and they might all take a lesson from him.

Josie and Little Joe plodded heavily off the beach and headed toward the trees. The last of the twilight was fading fast, so they chose a relatively protected spot under some trees in case another storm blew in and then set about trying to find firewood. The gale had brought down a number of branches, but these were still green and soaked, to boot. Little Joe found a piece of flint and made a gallant effort to light a fire anyway so they could dry out their clothes, but everything was just too wet. Josie and Little Joe disassembled their guns to help them dry out, and then they had no recourse but to curl up on the damp, bare ground in their soaked clothes and try to sleep.

Night fell hard and cold on the drenched Cartwrights, and they scooted ever closer to one another, searching for warmth. The first rays of dawn revealed the cousins shivering in each other's arms. Despite their exhausting day, neither of them had managed to sleep more than an hour or two, and they sat up wearily, their eyes bloodshot and their clothes stiff from the lake water that had dried on the fabric during the night. Josie looked at Little Joe's haggard expression and giggled.

"We are not a majestic sight," she observed.

Joe agreed and stood up. He smiled as he surveyed their surroundings and he realized he knew exactly where they were.

"That's a relief," Josie said when he announced the good news. "How far do you reckon we are from home?"

Joe's face fell. "Fifteen or twenty miles."

Josie groaned. She was so sore from paddling and kicking her way through Lake Tahoe the previous day that she could barely move, let alone walk fifteen or twenty miles.

"Ponderosa's a big ranch," Joe said. "We should be glad it isn't farther."

"Are we even on Ponderosa land?"

Joe looked around again and told her he guessed they were about five miles west of the Ponderosa's nearest border.

"That isn't so bad," Josie admitted.

"Yeah. We're lucky, really. We could have been blown into California."

"True, but even at only twenty miles out, we can't exactly cut straight across the range to home, can we?" Josie said. "We lost our canteens, and we both know what this heat can do to someone with no water." Neither of them said it, but they both knew Josie was thinking of Adam last summer in the desert. "Plus, we've got no way back across this lake, and the only person who knows we're out here won't even know to start looking for us for another three days."

Joe groaned as the truth of Josie's statement sank in. Fionn was the only person who knew their full plans, and he wasn't expecting them until Sunday. "All right," he said at last. "First things first. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Josie gestured around. "We lost all our food, remember?"

Joe grinned. "Fortunately, my dear Dr. Cartwright, we happen to be on the shores of the Nevada's biggest fishing hole. You stay here and see if you can get a fire going. I'll be right back." He ambled back toward the lake, peeling off his shirt as he went.

"Good luck with that," Josie muttered as she watched him go. She turned to the firewood they had gathered the previous night. Rather than stacking it, they had spread it all out in the hopes it would dry overnight, but Josie discovered it was still too damp to catch. She struggled for the better part of an hour before hurling her flint into the woods in frustration. When Joe returned shortly thereafter – limping, Josie noticed – he, too, wore a disgruntled expression. "Catch anything?" She wasn't sure why she asked; the answer was plainly obvious.

"No," Joe grumbled. "I nearly had some fish caught up in my shirt, and then I got bit by a dang turtle." He held up one bloody finger, and Josie had to fight the urge to laugh.

"I'd love to help you, Joe, but unfortunately, my bottle of iodine and my bandages are at the bottom of Lake Tahoe." Josie was glad she hadn't brought along her entire medical bag. Not only would she have lost expensive implements and surgical tools, but the bag itself had been a gift from her mother. She examined Joe's finger anyway, deemed the bite a very shallow wound, and suggested he keep better watch for wildlife in the future.

"So, now what?" Josie asked as they sat down under a tall pinyon pine. Little Joe handed her a pinecone.

"Dig in," he said.

"Excuse me?"

Little Joe peeled apart the pinecone to reveal several pale, bean-shaped nuts. He shelled them in a single, smooth motion and popped them into his mouth. "Woods are full of food if you know where to look," he said as he crunched down.

Josie's eyes lit up, and she scoured the ground for more pinecones. She found nearly a dozen, and she and Joe spent the next quarter hour peeling them apart and popping the nuts into their mouths. It was a poor substitute for a real breakfast, but after missing supper the previous night, it was better than nothing.

When they had exhausted the nut supply, Joe glanced up at the sun. "Well, I suppose we better get moving. Try to get a few miles in before it gets too hot. I think our best bet is to head for the south shore where we're supposed to meet Fionn on Sunday. It'll be a good eight or ten miles longer than the walk home, but at least we'll have fresh water the whole way. I can try fishing again later, and if we're real quiet, we might scare up some game."

Josie nodded and hauled herself to her feet, and then she and Little Joe began their long trudge to the southern shore.

After no more than half a mile, it was clear that Little Joe would never be able to walk all the way back to the southern shore. His still healing left leg was worn out from yesterday's frantic kicking through the lake, and Josie forced him to stop and sit down. Little Joe leaned against a smooth boulder, and Josie plopped down next to him and massaged his aching shin. Joe rested his head against the cool stone and groaned contentedly.

"You keep that up for a couple minutes, and I could walk all the way to China."

Josie grinned, but looked up at him with concern. She squinted in the glare from the summer sun and missed her hat desperately. "Joe, we both know you can't make it. We need another plan."

Joe sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow. "You're right." He paused. "Unfortunately, the only thing I can think of is for you to go on ahead to meet Fionn and then come back for me."

Josie shook her head. "We're not splitting up. That's just asking for trouble in this family, especially when we've only got six shots apiece to begin with." She let go of Joe's leg and leaned against the boulder next to him. "We'll just have to think of something else."

"Well to begin with, we should get out of the sun." Joe stood up stiffly and limped toward the tree line. "Let's see if we can find some dry wood," he called over his shoulder. "If we can get a fire going, I'll try fishing again. We'll feel better with some real food in our stomachs."

Josie watched Joe hobble farther into the trees and jogged over to him. She placed one hand on his shoulder. "You sit down. I'll look for firewood." Joe made a moue of protest but did as Josie suggested; his leg really did ache. Unfortunately, thirty minutes of searching yielded no dry wood. Josie wasn't hungry enough yet to eat raw fish, so she untucked her shirt and, using the tail as a basket, gathered as many pine cones as she could and took them back to Joe. She gave him an apologetic look as she sat back down. "Sorry, Joe, but everything's still soaked. I don't think the sun can reach through the trees to dry it out."

"That's all right, Josie," Joe said bracingly as he peeled into a pinecone. "It can't stay wet forever."

Again, the pine nuts did little to quell the angry rumblings in their bellies, but at least they kept the worst of the hunger pangs at bay. With nothing else to do, Josie gave Little Joe's shin another good massage.

"The good news is, you definitely have more muscle than you did a couple weeks ago," she reported.

Joe grinned and said that his leg was feeling much better and he thought he could walk at least another mile or so. Josie didn't like this idea, but she knew they didn't have much choice. Their best bet was to get as far south as they could and hope that when they didn't show up on Sunday Fionn would move northward looking for them, and they would meet up somewhere in between. She sighed and helped Joe to his feet, and once more they set off southward, keeping to the shade of the tall pine trees.

This time they made nearly three-quarters of a mile before Joe's breath grew ragged, and Josie knew he was in pain again. She draped his right arm over her shoulders so he could lean on her as they shuffled toward the lake for a drink. As they knelt on the shoreline, drinking their fill and dousing their heads with the cool water, Josie looked up at the sun and guessed it must be about midafternoon. Midafternoon, and they had come less than a mile and a half. Frustrated, she dunked her head in the lake again, and as she resurfaced and tossed her wet hair over her shoulder, she felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle. From behind her came the unmistakable creak of a bowstring being pulled taut. Joe heard it, too, and instinctively reached for his gun. Josie grabbed his hand and shook her head, and, holding her arms out wide to show she was clear of her weapon, she slowly turned around. Joe turned, too, and the pair of them came face-to-face with a dozen mounted Paiute warriors, each with an arrow nocked on his bow.

Josie broke into a huge grin.

"Chief Winnemucca!" she cried, recognizing the Paiute chief astride a beautiful brown-and-white paint. "Am I ever glad to see you!"

Startled, the chief gestured to his men to lower their weapons.

"My apologies, Dr. Cartwright," he said. "I didn't recognize you." He jumped down from his horse and strode over to Josie, his right hand extended. Josie shook it warmly as the chief peered at her, noting her heat-flushed cheeks and bedraggled, muddy clothes. "You look terrible."

Josie laughed. "We were shipwrecked," she said, waving a hand toward Little Joe. Then, seeing the puzzled look on Winnemucca's face, she added, "It's a long story. But where are my manners? This is my brother, Joe." She grabbed Little Joe's arm and yanked him over so he, too, could shake the chief's hand. He gasped as his left leg came down at an angle and a bolt of pain shot through his shin.

"You are injured," Winnemucca observed.

Not wanting to show weakness in front of the Indians, Little Joe straightened up and puffed out his chest. "I'm fine."

Winnemucca turned his dark eyes on Josie, who explained that Joe had broken his leg two months earlier and was still recovering. "That's why we're a bit stuck," she concluded. "Joe can't walk very far at a stretch just yet."

"It is lucky we ran into you, then," Winnemucca replied. "If you will grant us safe passage across Ponderosa lands, then we will take you home."

Little Joe looked like he would rather do just about anything than trust a band of Indians to get him safely home, but Josie had already enthusiastically accepted the chief's offer. Winnemucca noticed Joe's hesitation and smiled at him. "Fear not, young Cartwright," he intoned, dropping his voice an octave. "Red man no takee scalpum today." He reached out a hand and tousled Joe's wet curls. "Though you do have a nice one." Winnemucca and Josie broke out in laughter at Joe's alarmed expression, which quickly dissolved into an irritated one at being made fun of.

Still laughing, Winnemucca offered his arm to Josie and grandly escorted her to the shade of the trees, Little Joe reluctantly following along and casting anxious glances over his shoulder at the eleven Paiute warriors behind him. Once in the shade, they all sat down in the cool dirt, and the Indians began digging into the bags they had tied to their horses. Little Joe's wariness of the band of warriors dissolved instantly when he saw them extracting long, thick strips of pemmican and small round biscuits from the sacks. Josie saw it, too, and her mouth began to water. Winnemucca noticed the Cartwrights' wide eyes and asked when they had last eaten.

"About this time yesterday," Josie answered. "Not counting the pine nuts, anyway."

Winnemucca shook his head and handed Josie and Little Joe two strips of pemmican and three biscuits apiece. Joe forgot his previous reluctance to accept help from the Paiutes and crammed a biscuit in his mouth. The chief smiled but did not laugh at the young man again.

Josie had never tasted pemmican before, and her eyes lit up as she tore into her first strip. It was similar to the beef jerky she helped Hop Sing make, but this had nuts and dried berries mixed in.

"This is delicious!" she exclaimed.

Several of Winnemucca's warriors chuckled. They didn't all understand English, but the delight in the young doctor's face was unmistakable.

"It is not as good as fresh roasted meat, but it will sustain a man on the trail," one young brave said. He caught Josie's eye and smiled shyly at her. Josie smiled back briefly before blushing and dropping her gaze.

"So, my young friend," Winnemucca began, stretching his long, deerskin-clad legs out in front of him. "How did you come to be shipwrecked on the shores of our great lake?"

Josie heaved a sigh and launched into the tale of her and Little Joe's homemade canoe and how they had planned to row all the way up the lake. When she reached the part where they had burned the Ponderosa brand into the sides of the craft, Winnemucca's English-speaking warriors had to bite their lips to keep from laughing. Josie paid them no mind and continued with the story of the storm whipping up and splitting their canoe, and then how she and Little Joe were thrown into the water.

At that point, Little Joe could keep silent no longer; he was desperate to regain some credibility with the Paiutes and related the part where he courageously dived deep into the lake to rescue Josie from certain death.

Winnemucca raised his eyebrows at this. "You cannot swim?"

Josie dropped her head, ashamed. "No," she mumbled.

"And you did not tell your brother this before you paddled out to the middle of the deepest lake in the region?"

"No." Josie's voice was no more than a whisper as it finally sank in just how very foolish she had been to try to cross the lake with Joe.

Winnemucca reached out and cupped Josie's chin to tilt her head upward to meet his gaze. "Do not be so quick to send yourself to the next world, Dr. Cartwright," he said, much more gently than Josie had expected. "You have much yet left to complete in this one." Josie smiled, and Winnemucca released her chin and leaned back once more. "So that explains your haggard appearance," he continued. "But where is your most noble companion? I would have expected a brave warrior like Pip to accompany you on such a journey."

"We left him with a friend," Josie said as she blushed bright red and buried her face in her hands. "We were afraid he'd tip the canoe."

Winnemucca threw back his head and laughed, the joyful sound reverberating through the trees, and many of his men joined in. Josie and Little Joe sat and waited for the Paiutes to compose themselves – both slightly annoyed by the Indians' Schadenfreude and awestruck at the boundless joy these supposedly savage men could experience. When Winnemucca at last drew a full breath, he turned to them as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I am sorry, young Cartwrights," he said, still snickering. "But that is very, very funny."

"Glad we could give you a giggle," Joe said drily, but the lingering twinkle in the chief's dark eyes broke his foul mood at last, and Joe grinned for the first time since they had run into the Indians.

"Come," Winnemucca said, rising to his feet. He held his hand out to Josie and hauled her up, then did the same for Little Joe. "We have just enough time to get you home and return to our own lands before dark."

Winnemucca said something in Paiute to the warrior who had smiled at Josie, and the young man beamed as if he had been chosen for a high honor. He snatched the reins of his horse – another beautiful pinto – from the tree branch he had wrapped them around before lunch and led the animal over to Josie.

"You are to ride my horse," he announced proudly as he handed Josie the reins.

"Thank you!" Josie said as she took the reins. She hated to take the young man's horse, but she disliked the thought of walking the fifteen or twenty miles home even more. Josie had never ridden bareback, and after one glance at the bemused expression on her face, the young Paiute took hold of her left foot and boosted her onto the horse. Josie thanked him again as she settled on the blanket that lay across the horse's back.

"Pony Blanket," the young man said.

Josie looked down at the brightly colored diamond pattern of the blanket she was sitting on and nodded. "Yes, it's quite beautiful."

The young man chuckled. "No, Pony Blanket is my name."

Josie blushed deeply and apologized for her mistake.

"Do not worry," Pony Blanket said. "It does not translate quite so well to your language."

Josie smiled gratefully at Pony Blanket as he doubled up with another warrior. Josie scooted back toward her own horse's rump to give Little Joe room to mount up in front of her. She wrapped her arms around Joe's waist as he took the reins, gave the horse a little kick, and followed Winnemucca and his warriors toward the Cartwrights' home.

It took less than three hours to reach the ranch house at an easy lope, and Little Joe and Josie thought the homestead had never looked so beautiful. Josie invited the Paiutes inside for supper, but Winnemucca politely declined, and Josie understood it would have been improper for the warriors to enter the Cartwrights' home – their entrance into the big house when Josie was sick had been an exception made in a dire situation. Josie and Little Joe bid their friends farewell and then tumbled wearily into the house. They collapsed side-by-side on the settee, not caring that they were grinding their grime into the upholstery. Josie turned her head to look at Little Joe.

"We are NEVER doing that again," she said.

"Agreed. And the others will NEVER hear about this, either."

"Agreed. I'll ride out to the O'Connells' ranch tomorrow to let Fionn know he doesn't have to pick us up and to get my dog back."

"Uh-huh."

The cousins rose sluggishly from the sofa and dragged each other upstairs to clean up, both of them having had their fill of adventure for quite some time.