Chapter
Dawn Brings New Day
His heart was going a mile a minute as he creaked his eyes open to the morning sun. The laughter was so loud, so real, it resonated within him. He waited in bed for his heart to slow and the laughter to fade back into the dark recesses of his mind before he flipped off the covers and put his feet on the floor. There was a tremble within him as he wiped his face wiping away the laugh that was all too real; and that accusing finger which pointed straight at his soul. That was at night. This was day now and with it's brightness the memories would have no choice but to recede to the shadows.
His throat was dry, he noticed as he gulped a hard gritty swallow.
He got up and went to the wash basin and stared at the water within. He came that close to scooping up a handful of that cool liquid and drinking from it. He was thirsty, but he wasn't that thirsty. He recalled how desperate he was for water just days prior. Enough to suck the moisture from a rock. He clenched his eyes to push the memory away. He wasn't there now. Water was plentiful here. In fact, it would be waiting for him downstairs. He could wait.
He stared at the figure in the looking glass. A sore sight of a man stared back. The Depot Manager did a good job at cleaning the cut just below his hairline as well as keeping his eye from swelling. Despite his best efforts though, colors were starting to form. Red and purple hued his upper cheek bone. Nothing he could do about that. Similar colors resembling fingers wrapped around his neck. He tugged out his night shirt and looked down to see if there were any other visible bruises. Shadows marked marred flesh. He removed his shirt to get a clear view of the incipient colors. Just under his ribcage there was a large one from where the man's foot met him. He had bruises lining his forearms from where he laid on the ground balled up as the man kicked at him. Most of the others were fist size and wrapped around his back. DeSoto wasn't the strongest man Joe had ever fought, but he fought with a wild desperation.
He shook away his image.
He didn't want to think of him now. He wasn't there anymore. He was here now. Safe. In his home.
Joe washed the torment of the night away, then went right to covering up what bruises he could. He'd chosen his tan shirt. The one with the high collar and thick cuffs. Upon donning it, he realized this wouldn't suffice. It wasn't the niggling pain of buttoning up his neck that made him abandon this tactic. The shirt didn't cover the extent of the bruises that rose above the collar. Furthermore, it was against his nature to button to the last button unless he was dressing up for an occasion. Ranch work was not an occasion. This was no good. It would draw their attention right to him. He unbuttoned the top button again and reached for his black neckerchief. He could get away with hiding under this. He wrapped it around diligently. There, this works quite nicely. He thought as he tied it up and examined himself in the looking glass. He buttoned up his cuffs and brushed out his unruly curls. He was looking a lot better now. Spruced up and ready to take on the day.
All except for his stupid cheek. It wasn't a full-fledged bruise yet. It looked more like he'd missed this spot while scrubbing his face. Like residual dirt, but knowing his family they would know otherwise. It would shimmer like a bauble above his button down. He let out a heavy sigh. There was nothing he could do about that now. He'd just go on and pretend it wasn't there. It wasn't even bad right now. Besides, it wasn't the first bruise he'd come home with in his lifetime. Joe was renowned for them. It most certainly wouldn't be the last. He straightened himself, took in a deep breath and put on his best smile, then bounced his way downstairs.
~.~
His pa and Hoss watched him as he ate. He was shoveling in hotcakes like he was making up for lost time. He drank down gulp after gulp past the cakes in his mouth. Cup after cup. He was making quite a show of it all. But by golly he was thirsty. He was hungry too but his hunger was appeased much quicker than his thirst especially with all the water he was drinking. What food was in him, swelled with the liquid.
His pa and Hoss exchanged glances.
His body was replenishing the water it had been denied. As much of a show as Joe was making this wasn't the main attraction. His cheek and eye, though barely visible the day prior, when he came through the door; with a full night's rest it was forming some color, as with the gash on his forehead. Whatever Joe had experienced out there, was beginning to bleed through.
"How you doing son?"
"Good pa." He said with a mouthful of hotcakes. "Ready to get back out there pa. Get back to work."
Some concern came over his kin. "You don't want to spend the day resting? Gaining back some of your strength."
"No pa. I've been away long enough. I'm ready to get right back into it. I noticed there was some weak fence line out there by the south pasture before I left. I'd like to take care of that before it gets too bad."
"Sure." Ben said with an astonished smile. "If you think you're up for it."
"Yeah, I'm up for it." Relieving their worry with a chortle.
"It's good to have you back son." Ben said ruffling up his curls.
"Let me tell you Pa, it's good to be back." He responded in good spirits.
Joe cleaned his plate and offered to take theirs as well.
Hoss sat with his pa a few moments before finally getting over his astonishment and deciding he too should start prepping for the day. Ben, who remained at the table a while longer, watched his youngest as he moved about the house. Whatever Joe had been through out there, he wasn't saying. Was it wrong not to push his son into telling him what happened out there? Why should he? His son seemed fine.
He smiled at the curiosity of it all.
His thoughts broke at the shutting of the door. Hopsing was just coming into the kitchen from the outside.
He realized he'd been sitting there perhaps a little too long and he had his own work to do. Staring down at the tail end of his second cup of coffee he gave in and went in to wash it up too. He'd barely made it to the sink, when Hopsing sat down his armful of basil to relieve Ben of his burden.
"I got this." He assured but Hopsing would have none of it.
Another door closed shut. Without further ado, Ben handed over his cup and went out to look. The great-room was empty but for Hoss who was just coming down the stairs. He opened the door just in time to see his youngest ride away past the stables. Hoss had come back to join him. His son had left without even a goodbye. His heart twinge just a little bit at the thought of his youngest leaving without imparting some words between them, but leave his son did.
The events of this last week took its toll on the pater too. But his son was fine. Going out to fix fences. That was about as safe a chore as you can get. He'd be home by supper. Whatever they had to talk about could be said then, but what was there to say? His son was handling things well. Why force him to talk about something that he's not ready for? That could only bring about ruin? If Joe wasn't going to bring it up, he wouldn't either.
If or when Joe was ready to talk about it, his boy knew that he was there to listen. He reasoned away his worry. It was over now. His boy was safe.
~.~
The ride to the broken post in the south pasture was approximately a forty-five minute ride. He had the stock horse pulling the family wagon hauling a few replacement posts in the back, and the tools he would need to replace them. He had a lot of time to get lost in thought. Escape into his own mind. He wasn't sure exactly where his mind had gone, but he began to be more aware of his rising thirst.
The heat of the sun licked his face.
He stopped the horse and looked up at the distant sun peering through the trees. He was surrounded now in green pasture fortified by long pines. This land was rich, beautiful and bountiful. But he wasn't there. In his mind he was some place different. Some place dry and deserted.
Grueling, Arid, Forsaken.
The temperatures were agonizing. The scorching sands burning through the soles of his shoes. He was so thirsty. He just needed some water.
He was conscious of his thirst now. A dryness tickled the back of his throat. It wasn't nearly as bad now as it was then. Nothing that a single swig wouldn't quench and he had plenty to quench him now. That he was sure of.
The slight thirst only served to remind him of his experience.
Looking up at the friendly sun, it had a different look to it now. It's warmth, soft and inviting, offering a wellspring of life. Tall growth shading his path as each pine and plant stretched on tip toes to touch it.
He couldn't help but think that this was not the same sun as was with them just a few days prior. The sun then burned closer, hotter. Her fiery fingers scorching the earth, chasing life to the shadows and burning up what couldn't hide. It followed them like a wicked mother teasing their skin and blazing their path.
Like she was death itself, reaching for them and inviting them in.
Shaking his head to loosen the image, he pushed the stock horse onward again.
As he did the image of a perfect white horse flashed in his mind.
Why did he think of her?
Because, it was the only other time he remembered being that thirsty.
Two years ago, when he'd try to get that horse for his pa.
He allowed his mind to slip to that time.
The events that led him to walk alone out in the middle of the open desert. Narrowly escaping and finding himself in the protective hold of his father as he pooled replenishing water down his throat.
Coming back from that, he never thought he'd be that thirsty ever again.
Only two years later and there he was again. Again, fighting for his life.
That was different. The events that led him to that desert. They were of his doing, sure; but they were of honorable intentions.
This time, there was no gift.
No act of kindness.
No honor.
No honor.
He ruminated on that thought.
There was responsibility, then an accident, then a murder.
There were accusations and then there were hostages.
There was no honor in that.
~.~
"Look at that pa, Joe forgot his lunch."
The brown package that Hopsing had made up for him, sat on the corner of the breakfast table. Joe had left before Hopsing could bring it out.
"You'd think with as much of a show as he was making this morning that he might come to miss this."
"His mind must have been someplace else. Why don't you take it out to him? It'll give us the excuse we need to check up on him."
"Sure thing, pa."
~.~
Joe had all the tools he would need; replacement boards, a few different types of hammers, nails, twine; all laid out there on the grass. Trouble was, he was laying with it, or rather sitting with his back leaning against the post he was meant to replace. He just couldn't seem to get started. It wasn't that his body hurt too badly, though if his pa or brothers were to see the bruises that might be the conclusion they would come to. He just didn't have the energy to. It wasn't the journey he'd been on just two days prior neither. His lack of energy stemmed from whatever was going on inside.
What was going on inside?
Thoughts.
Thoughts so overwhelming they plagued his dreams.
As dog worn out as he was, he didn't feel like last night's dreams were fair to him to keep him tossing and turning like he was.
He was feeling it now.
All of it.
Maybe it really was how his body ached from the beating as well as the trek.
Maybe it was all of it, combined.
When he walked through the door yesterday his father looked at him with such a sense of overwhelming peace as if his mere presence had put a shattered world back in place and just like that everything was back to normal. He'd collapsed down on the settee and propped his feet on the coffee table, something he'd done a thousand times before, more out of habit, though some days it definitely felt better than others, and if caught, his father would tell him to take his feet off; just like he did yesterday. Yesterday it felt better to kick his feet up more than any other day. However good that felt, the one thing that felt better was his father being there to return things to normal.
So why was he having such a difficult time with that now?
Normal.
Returning things to normal.
When he smiled at his father's scold yesterday it was genuine. He really was grateful to be home and he wanted so bad to return things to the way they were.
So, then what changed between then and now?
"You did this." He heard DeSoto again. He opened his eyes. He saw him standing over him. Sun at his back putting his face in shadows. His finger pointing out accusatory.
'You were going to kill me.' He justified.
Was he really so wrong for doing what he did?
'What choice did I have?'
"What'd you say?" Joe shot to his feet. The shadow before him was not DeSoto's.
"Hey Hoss." The boy smirked. "Didn't hear you ride up." He said with a quirky smile.
"You've been sitting here all morning daydreaming? Don't look like you've gotten much done."
"I sat down for a moment. I guess I got a little lost in thought. What are you doing out here anyhow?"
"Seems you forgot to take your lunch. Thought you might get hungry." He said as he slid down from his horse.
"Thanks Hoss."
"You doing okay Joe?"
"You kidding me?" the boy chortled. "I'm as right as rain."
The pat on the back caused Joe to jerk up. He hid his agony within an under-coated smile. Hoss's smile had slipped. He could see that he'd done something.
"What's the matter Joe? I didn't hurtcha, did I? That bullet wound still giving you issues."
It wasn't all that long ago he'd suffered a hunting accident. An accident in which his eldest brother didn't like to talk about. He knew he had a lot of guilt over it, but Joe knew an accident was exactly what it was. His shoulder would become sore now and again but he had healed quite nicely. The scars of that day had faded along with the memories.
He had new scars and new memories to contend with now.
The indelible marks he wished he could wash away.
"No." He chortled again. "My muscles are a bit sore, is all."
"You sure you want to be doing this?"
"I'm fine Hoss. I just need to work them out. Stretch a bit."
~.~
Hoss rode back in deep reflection. Not quite settled with the way he left things.
He had a lot of time to think on his way back to the house. Joe is fine, he was finally able to convince himself, towards the tail end of the ride. Knowing that anything else would worry his pa and his pa has had way too much of that this past week. He's had enough in the bank to last him a lifetime. There was nothing wrong with Joe that a good stretch couldn't work out. He said so himself and if he knew one thing about that boy is that Joe wasn't a liar.
"How's he doing?" Ben asked as he came through.
"He's sore, pa. You could see that. But I don't think we have to worry about him over doing himself. When I went out there all he was doing was daydreaming."
Ben smiled at the news.
"Well, maybe that's for the best." At Hoss's curiosity, he expound. "Your brother has got a lot of pride. If that's the only way we can get him to rest, then I'll take it." The big boy smirked in understanding.
~.~
Hoss's intrusion helped just a bit to derail Joe's thoughts and get him out of his head. He chortled and shook away his trials. He can get past this. Just stop dwelling on it. He's not there now. The battle is over.
The day passed peacefully.
Every time he felt his mind slipping back into it, he shook it away and forced himself to think of other thoughts. Happier thoughts.
The white horse.
For whatever reason, he had filed that memory away as a happy one.
Just as trying, just as daring, but beautiful. Gosh, she was beautiful. The representation of all that was pure and right, and in a way, she was still very much alive within him.
He was still slow and sluggish, but the work kept him out of his head just enough.
When he had finished the suns position in the sky told him that it was sometime after 3. It was time to be headed back.
~.~
"Welcome back."
"It's good to be back. Boy am I famished." Supper was just about ready judging by the smell of it. "I'm going to go get washed up." He said shooting up the stairs, leaving no more room for conversation. For whatever reason that niggle that was with him this morning wanted to come back but Ben pushed it away.
If he wanted to talk with his son, there was always supper. He'd be a captive audience then but what would there be to talk about. Again the question came up. Should he get Joe to talk about what happened?
A half hour later they were soaking up gravy with biscuits at the supper table. It was mostly silent as Joe ate and the other two searched for something to say. Some way to broach the subject.
"Does it hurt?" His pa finally asked of the eye.
It had darkened in color throughout the day. This morning it might have been mistaken for dirt, there was no mistaking it now. It was a bruise. Joe pulled away as his father reached.
"It's fine pa." Joe chuckled. "I'm sure it'll go away on its own in a few days. We don't need all the hullaballoo for one little bruise. Now can I eat my dinner without all the hubbub? I'm famished." Ben smiled, and let it be. He obviously wasn't ready to talk about it he resolved scraping the food around on his plate.
"I got a letter from Sheila today." He said changing the subject to a brighter one.
"Oh yeah? How's she doing?" Hoss bit.
"They made it back to Philadelphia. Gotten settled back in."
"How's her father?"
"He's doing well so far."
"That's good."
Sheila was a good woman. She had saved Joe's life, when he had suffered that hunting accident. Well not directly but she had a huge part in why he was here today, though he never really met her. She was with him when he was in the throes of delirium. He had glimpses of her. That was it. By the time he'd gotten over his delirium and come back to his family she was leaving.
His pa and brothers knew her well. Adam especially. She had such a huge impact on his eldest brother.
From what he did know, which he learned from his pa and brothers was that she had put aside her own familial hardships to care for Joe. She was a good woman. A reminder that there are good women in the world.
They weren't all vixens. They weren't all Laurie's.
His mind had slipped from the conversation as he thought of her. His heart embittered. He didn't want to think of her.
She wasn't all women. There were other women. Good women.
Sheila's. There were Julia Bulette's too. He thought of his first real love.
Good, honest, pure women. Women who weren't just looking out for their own interests. Women who saw outside themselves, who knew how to care for the life of a young man in need, without expecting anything from it in return.
How much could he really blame Laurie? She was a woman who had lost so much and was fighting, with claws out, to hold on to what she had. She was a woman created by her circumstances. A woman willing to tear apart anything that got in her way, including the life of an innocent man, just to protect her own interest.
"Stop him!"
She was in his head. Her pretentious concern. She was a fake. A phony. A liar. A vixen.
She had been a friend. His only friend when he was accused and then bound. She had offered him a way out. When he turned down her offer for the sake of the truth, she had planted a tender kiss on his lips. He wasn't in a position to turn her away. He wasn't much sure he wanted to. She had been so sweet, at a time when he felt so vulnerable. While the others had captured his being, she had captured his heart. Her kiss so affectionate and so sincere.
At least that was what he had thought at the time. He would discover not a moment later, that it had all been lies.
For reasons he hadn't known then, she had turned against him. Had accused him of things he hadn't done. He knew then that there was not a friend among them. She was perhaps the worse of them. He knew what he was getting with the others. But with her, he trusted her and she betrayed him. From that moment on he knew he could never trust another word that came out of her mouth.
She feigned concern later, as he was being beaten, but he knew better.
"Stop him!" He heard her shout as he lay helplessly on the ground, taking an onslaught of blows. The words stung him. Worse than the strikes. They stung him like venom.
Ben and Hoss had stopped talking a few minutes ago as they watched him. He'd stopped eating and was now just pushing the food around on his plate. His brows creased.
The men shared their concern only through their look, afraid to give voice to their feelings. Voicing anything now, with the possibility of breaking Joe of this reverie, seemed sacrilege. Like the wives-tail that warn against waking a sleepwalker, that upon doing so might bring about certain undesirable results. Was this anything like that? Joe wasn't asleep but where ever he was, he was far away.
His eyes flickered, indicating the exact moment he had returned. He glanced around to see his kin looking on but then seemed to pay little mind to their concern nor the fact that the conversation around him had ceased.
"I think I'm going to head off to bed pa."
A quick flicker to Hoss before he responded. "You sure son?"
"Yeah." Seeming to catch on to their apprehension. He gave an inflated smile as if to show them that nothing at all was wrong. "I'd like to get an early start tomorrow and for that I need an early rest." He said with a soft sureness.
"But son, you hardly touched your food."
"I guess I wasn't as hungry as I thought." His warm, jaunty nature returning. "Thirsty more than anything." He gulped down his cup in an exaggerated fashion and placed the empty cup back down on the table.
They watched him saunter up the stairs and out of sight. They looked at each other before shaking away the abnormality of Joe's behavior. Neither wanting to worry the other, they went right back into the conversation.
~.~
His days wear, laid over the chair, Joe was back in his nightwear. In the dark recesses of his room, he lay atop his covers staring up at the ceiling. Teetering between consciousness and sleep. In that space the memories crawled their way back in.
"None for him." He heard him say before the canteen was ripped from his lips and the contents spilled out onto the floor. That lifesaving precious resource. He was so thirsty. He put a finger to his lips where the liquid had touched. That was as far as it had gotten. Not a drop to quench him. It was just enough to tease him. His throat burned with each dry breath that escaped him. Even his lungs burned. "You're responsible for this." He looked up at the speaker, his tormentor. There was a primal determination in his eyes. He knew as the man towered over him that this wouldn't be the worst of it. Joe hadn't felt this enfeebled in a long time. He felt like a child now as this man and all his wrath stood over him, hell-bent on punishing him for his misdeeds. He wouldn't be able to fight him off with his hands bound as they were. He was lifted up from his seated position before being punched so hard the force spun him around. He couldn't turn back to face his attacker quickly enough. Another blow hit his back, knocking him into the opposite wall. His knees buckled. He tried to regain his footing and get himself upright, but a force came down upon his back making sure he stayed down. He was hit and kicked as he lay helplessly on the ground. He balled up tight, taking the abuse. That was all he could do.
"Stop him!" He could hear the vixen shout among the onslaught of blows.
"It might make Cartwright break." came the response. "It's him or us." They were against him. All of them. There was not a friend among them.
As Ben passed Joe's room to get to his own, he heard muted noises coming from the other side. He stuck his ear against the door to listen. Joe had a habit of working out his day's troubles in his dreams. Sometimes this would lead to night terrors. On rare occasions, if they were bad enough, these terrors would result in full blown screams. That was not tonight though. There was no real reason to check on Joe tonight. Joe hadn't cried out for him. No real reason but a father's niggling concern. And muffled groans barely audible through the door. He creaked it open and peered inside.
Joe was balled up in the fetal position. His head tucked into his hands. He was whimpering exerted grunts and flinching. Ben crept to him and stood over him. Joe tucked his knees further within him. Ben put a hand on his son's back, to which Joe flinched, whimpering more painful grunts. What was he dreaming? It was painful for the pater to watch this. Ben pulled the chair in close and took a seat next to his son, placing a soft hand on his son's head which was soaked through.
"Shhh." The pater whispered softly. Joe pushed out a fearsome breath as if he was expecting something worse from the hand that touched him. The hand reaching to him from beyond the edges of sleep. "You're okay now." He stroked his head consolingly. "I'm here." With each heavy breath he allowed his pa's words to slip further and further into his subconscious pulling him out of whatever nightmare he was having. Joe had stopped fighting, his breathing shaky and forced. Ben focused on his breathing, listening for any changes. After a few moments they grew longer and heavier. His body became lithe. A few more minutes had passed, Ben leaned back in his chair and watched his son as he slept. Thirty minutes more, Joe had relaxed enough to stretch out in this time. There hadn't been a whimper, nor a grunt to come out of him in a while. Perhaps his battle was over. Whatever it was that threatened his boy had slipped back into the dark recesses of his son's mind. Ben was feeling relaxed himself. Shrouded by the heavy pull of sleep. He could have given in and fallen asleep right there on the chair. He pictured his son waking in the morning to find him there watching over him. He couldn't imagine he'd be too happy about that. He looked over his son who seemed to be sleeping better. His sleep was heavy and peaceful now. Ben lifted himself as softly as he could and departed.
~.~
Joe had a harder time getting out of bed this morning. His muscles were stiffer. Somehow, he didn't think that were possible. His body felt heavier. His dreams weren't doing him any favors in regards to allowing him a full night's rest. He finally dragged himself out of bed and maneuvered his nightwear away from his aching body. His chest and back were matching the same colors of his face which have all darkened in shade and spread. After spending a moment longer than he wanted to, checking out his battle scars in the looking glass he bent low to wash his face in the water basin. He ran the water up one arm then the other. Under his armpits to wash away the accumulated odor of the night. He ran some water over his sore chest. Getting water on his back proved to be a bit of a challenge. Where stretching his arms back on any other day wouldn't be an issue as he was quite limber, today with the bruises and the tight muscles he found his mobility to be hindered. He forced a grunted stretch and rubbed what he could reach and let the water fall over what he couldn't. He dried himself off and reached for his work shirt.
A knock came and Hoss's head peaked around the opening door. Joe turned his back to Hoss and in haste fashion he donned his shirt. His heart had jumped at the intrusion and still now it was failing to slow, at the fear of what his big brother might have seen. Maybe nothing.
"Haven't you ever learned to not go barging into people's rooms?" He barked.
"Sorry Joe." Hoss looked hurt at his brother's scorn. "Pa sent me up here to come get you. Thought you might still be sleeping." If he had still been sleeping, wouldn't he have deserved to be? "Breakfast has been out for a while now. Hopsing's been trying to clean it up." Joe was sorrowful. His attack on his brother was unjust. If his brother hadn't seen, then Joe knew his unjust attack might be enough to raise his suspicion. He dropped his defenses and put on his best smile.
"I'm sorry Hoss. You just scared me, is all. You tell Hopsing I'll be down in a minute." Hoss nodded and went away.
~.~
Just like he said he'd be, he was down at the breakfast table not five minutes later. His pa and brother sitting around it sipping on coffee. Joe's bruise had darkened still and spread throughout the whole left side of his cheek. It caused them both to worry, but Joe still wasn't talking about it.
The middle brother glanced over at his pa who appeared to be passively reading Joe. His pa was worried about this one bruise. He had no idea of the bruises that covered Joe's torso. Joe thought that by turning around he was hiding them. His back was worse than his front. He'd caught a glimpse at them both. Joe was quick to cover himself with his shirt, but Hoss had seen enough. He wondered if he should be the one to tell his pa. He didn't know if or when would be the right time. Certainly not now. He sipped on his coffee. His pa and he had finished their breakfast long ago and were both slow to finish their coffee waiting for Joe to eat.
"That was a fine breakfast." His little brother wiped his mouth with a rag and set it on the table. "Welp, I better get back out there. Those fences aren't gonna fix themselves." When he got up from the table, Hoss got up to join him.
"I'll walk you out."
"Suit yourself." his young brother said with a snicker.
When they were far enough away from the house, Hoss asked. "You sure you're alright little brother?"
"Would you two quit worrying about me? By the way you two are carrying on, you'd think it was the first time you'd ever seen me with a bruise."
"Yeah, I s'pose you're right." Joe went right to saddling his horse.
"You're not taking the wagon?"
"No. Everything I need is out there still. Besides, it's been a while since Cochise and I have gotten to ride together. I got the feeling she got kind of jealous yesterday. Didn't you?" He asked turning to Cochise. "What say you? You want to go take a ride?" He stroked down her snout while pressing his own head into hers. Hoss smiled at this. He understood the connection Joe had with that horse. She had been seeming a bit downtrodden without him. He let Joe saddle his horse without another word and watched him ride away.
~.~
Hoss had stayed close to the house, spending the day busying himself in the stable, cleaning manure and providing fresh hay. Bathing and brushing the horses. All the while his mind remained on his little brother.
Ben came out to join him. "I need you to load up a few bales of hay and take them over to Mrs. Gibson's."
"Sure thing, Pa."
"Thanks son." He turned to leave.
"Hey pa."
"Yes?"
"I was thinking when I get done with that, I'd head back out and check up on Joe."
"Son, don't you think he'll be perturbed with all this attention he's getting?"
"Yeah, I s'pose you're right."
"Of course, I'm right, son." Ben smiled and turned to head back to the house.
"It's just that." Ben turned back. "Well, I'm worried about him pa."
"There's nothing to be worried about." He assured. "He's fine. He's gotten a little banged up, is all. He'll be back to himself in no time. You'll see." Hoss scrunched his features, like he was holding on to something. "What? You don't agree? You said it yourself he was just a little sore." He recalls what he told his pa yesterday, what he convinced himself then to be true. The words had come back to haunt him. He knew now just how naïve he had been. He knew now what Joe was hiding. He just didn't know why. He still wasn't sure if he should tell his pa.
"Yeah pa." But Ben could see Hoss was unsettled.
"I'll tell you what. If it makes you feel better go out there and check on him." Secretly, after seeing the way the boy tossed about last night, Ben wanted to relieve the niggling worry eating at him as well.
"Thanks pa. I'll just finish up here and head out." Ben smiled at his middle boy with such a heart-swelling sense of pride before turning back to the house.
~.~
Near 30 minutes later, Hoss had finished loading up the hay and was in the process of saddling the horse when he heard someone riding into the yard. He cinched the saddle and went out to meet the rider. Lo and behold it was a welcoming site.
"Hey Adam. You're home early."
Adam didn't return the warm smile.
"When I heard you couldn't find Little Joe, I rushed back." He responded matter of fact. His brows were furrowed as his eyes darted about beyond the courtyard and in all directions. He was distracted.
"Ain't you heard? We found him."
"Yeah, I heard. I got the message this morning after I'd gotten into Virginia City. I decided to stay on." He remained stern and pedant. When he didn't find what he was looking for, his eyes finally settled on Hoss's. "How's he doing?"
"He's got some bruising. Suppose from the accident, but he seems to be doing okay. Gave Pa and me quite a scare, but he's good Adam."
"What did he say happened?" Hoss scratched his head.
"Well, not much of anything." The eldest brother gave another quick glance around then asked.
"Where is he?"
"He left a few hours ago. Working on some weak fence line in the south pasture. I'm heading out there now to see if he needs any help."
"Wait a moment on that." He stopped him. "Where's pa at?"
"He's in the house."
"Good. We need to talk." He said slipping from his horse and wrapping the reins around the hitching post. "Come inside."
"Hey, Adam. It's good to have you back." His pa greeted as he came through the door, his middle brother following curiously behind.
"I actually got back this morning." He said as he propped his hat on the rack and gun belt on the credenza. "I rode in to Virginia City to see if I could help." He turned back to the room. "That's when I got the word that Joe had been found. I would have come home then, except there seemed to be some ado over what happened."
"What do you mean?"
"Did Joe tell you what happened?"
"No. Why?"
"Pa." He looked up to face him. "The bodies that were recovered from the desert didn't die of natural causes." Hoss and Ben were both dumbstruck. "They were murdered."
"Murdered?"