Authors Note: Yes. The title of this chapter is a shameless tribute to Garth Brooks.

Chapter

The One the Wolves Pull Down

They rode back to the house in silence. Subconsciously their horses surrounding Joe's as if they were trying to protect him from a storm that was now dying. But if the storm was indeed dying then why did they feel the need to protect him? Perhaps it was Joe's demeanor which told them the tempest raged on, if nowhere else than within his own soul. As Joe strode his horse along, he was lost in his own mind. He had not said a word to them for this entire length. When they had finally pulled into the ranch house, Joe had gone straight to his room and stayed there. This entire experience had left him tired and drained.

Ben went up to retrieve him for supper. He knocked but there was no answer so he pushed open the door. Joe was lying in his bed with his face turned to the wall. The pater took a seat on the bed and placed a soft hand on his boy.

"What's eating at you son?"

He took a moment to form his thoughts into something discernable.

"I thought I was a good person."

"You are a good person." His pa pressed.

"But pa, what I did to them." He sat himself up to look at him.

"You did nothing wrong."

"How can you say that? I held them hostage."

"Son, you did what you had to do."

"They are dead because of me."

"That is not true. What happened to them was tragic, yes, but that was not your fault. They are dead because of their own actions."

"No. It was my fault. I did that. I created that desperation in them. I brought them to act in the way they did. They acted out of desperation because of what I did to them."

"What you did to them? How about what they did to you?"

"I risked the lives of innocent people to save myself."

"They were not innocent."

"What if they had been?"

"But they weren't."

"You're not listening to me pa. I didn't know that. I knew one of them had to be the murderer sure. But I absolutely believed the three others to be innocent and I risked their lives anyways in the hopes that a murderer would exhibit more morality than I was willing to. That's where my mind was at. They were just pawns to me. I was willing to take the lives of three innocent people just to save myself."

"You did what you had to, to survive."

"Is that really the son you raised?"

What words could he say to console his boy?

~.~

A few days had passed and the day of the funeral had arrived.

His kin came to support him or rather he to support them as he really didn't want to go in the first place. Ben thought it would be good for Joe though. The town would see it as Joe showing his support for the deceased despite what had happened to him. That he was being the bigger man. Even if he wasn't really going for that reason Ben hoped that at the very least Joe might be able to get some closure. Maybe he was wrong for pushing him in this, but his other two son's must not have thought it to be a bad idea because they supported Ben in this cause. They had all pushed and prodded him to go. Offered him words of encouragement as they laid out and readied his suit. Brushed him out and assured that he was looking spiffy. The only thing they couldn't cleanup was his sullen expression.

"Cheer up Joe. This'll be good for you."

The day was overcast but the clouds were high in the sky and showed no chance of rain. It wasn't really jacket weather but it was jacket occasion. Most who wore one had removed theirs before the services had ended. Joe kept in his own, burying himself within. His face remained glum the entire time.

The turnout was small. Some representatives came from the stage-line, probably paid to attend. The stage-line doing their best to mitigate the chances of a lawsuit. Brent was not among them. Roy said, he was back at work, tending to another case; this time stagecoach robbery, which was his expertise. Carl however was in attendance, along with a few members of the posse. Roy and Clem both made their appearance, though they couldn't stay for long. Each offering the family and especially Joe a sympathetic handshake before taking their leave. Joe looked around to see if the other two would show. They had not, so Joe didn't see why he had to. Of course, Leon was probably still in lockup waiting for the Texas Rangers to come and retrieve him, which meant she was waiting faithfully by his side. Spending her days, when not right there in the cages with him, in the hotel room across the street. The only other ones in attendance that day were a few members from town who naturally had no connection to the victims, but just wished to show their support in lieu of the tragedy that took place outside their town limits. Not a single family member appeared for any of the victims.

As far as Joe knew Stubby Barday had no kin. He was not married and had no kids. He was an only child of parents whom had already gone on before him. This lack of commitment gave him the freedom to travel over long distances as he did. The stage-line will hire those with families but they typically don't stick around as long as the ones without commitments. Familial pressures tend to pull them back; which is why the stage-line prefers men like Stubby, and they are willing to overlook their shortcomings, like drinking on the job, just to keep them employed.

Joe couldn't help but feel some resentment towards his family's longtime acquaintance. If it hadn't been for his actions, for his lifestyle choices, then none of them would have been put into the position they were in. None of this would have happened. Nora, who laid two spaces over, said it, on the day that he died. She said it as they stood over his crude burial site, way out there, on the day that started this whole thing and Joe had defended Stubby. It wasn't really appropriate for her to say that over his grave; but as Joe stood over his new final resting spot now, he couldn't help but know she was right. In lieu of all that had happened, he shares in this guilt.

Who was Stubby to judge him when he had gone and done what he did? Risking the lives of the passengers whose safety he was charged with keeping.

He was a good guy. He'd been a friend of the Cartwright's, however platonic. They only really knew him through their many trips that he had driven for. Joe knew that he drank and just accepted it. He was willing to look past this shortcoming just like the stage-line was because let's face it, he needed to get from point A to point B and back again. Who was he to complain and keep that from happening? He was just as guilty for never speaking up.

Stubby was on the far left. Roberto lay next to him.

Roberto had a family. He talked about having a father and brother back at home. A wealthy family which he bragged about. Their existence confirmed with their meddling involvement in pushing for a trial. According to Roberto, they were the overbearing type, at least his father was. Laurie believed that Roberto had been paid by his family to leave his home. With how passionately they sought for justice they must not have despised him all that much. Even if they had wanted to attend today's services, they could not have made it here in time, as Roberto's home country was all the way across the ocean in Italy. Who knows if they would have attended if given the chance?

Nora lay next to Roberto and Howard next to her.

In regards to these other two, Nora Whitley and Howard Benson, Joe knew little about familial ties. He was sure they had no children of their own. What family they had beyond that Joe didn't know. He probably could have gotten these answers if he sought them but until now, he hadn't wanted to know. He hadn't wanted to see them as human because it only reminded him of what he did to them. These people, imperfect as they were, with their own problems, their own demons, their own pain; who like him, were just trying to push their way through the battering winds of this unforgiving world.

The service lasted about an hour. About the time Joe sensed the services coming to an end, he walked away leaving his kin standing in place, wondering that perhaps this might not have been their greatest idea.

~.~

Joe tried to get back to the ranch life, but this time he did nothing to hide the turmoil he felt inside.

Now that everything was out in the open that didn't resolve things in Adam's mind, especially with the way his youngest kin suffered. What his father had told him of the conversation he had with Joe. Joe had wanted to blame himself for their deaths. Adam, like everyone else, had wanted to put the blame right where it belonged. Rest it right in the laps of his fellow passengers. All of them. He wanted Joe to realize that he used the only tool he had at his disposal to save himself, his familiarity of the open terrain they were in. He had not been wrong. The rest of the world could see it. Why couldn't he?

Days more had passed and when nothing had changed Adam decided to try his hand at a more direct approach. He rode up on Joe at the southern fence line.

"How you doing Joe?" He asked as he approached with his mount.

The boy was leaning against the post he had, a week ago, abandoned, staring out at the horizon. There were clouds at their backs but the view ahead was straight blue sky hovering above purple mountains and a lot of green space in between.

"You hanging in there?" The elder dropped from his horse and came in. Unlike a week ago, the day prior to the inquisition, Joe did nothing to cover his repine.

"Sometimes I wish I was more like you." His answer surprised Adam.

"What do you mean?"

"Why don't you cry?" As he got to Joe's side, he could see Joe had been crying, mostly dried now, but his eyes were reddened. "Why can't I just get over things like you do?"

"Joe, what you went through was a lot for any man to handle." The boy scoffed. "I mean it Joe. Most men would crumble with what they put you through."

"Most men aren't Cartwright's. I see all of you. What you've all been through over the years. I mean you were kidnapped by a psychopath last year. Look at you now. It's like it never happened. That's what I wanted to do. I just wanted to be strong, like I see you guys. Not let it affect me."

"Is that what you think? That we're not affected?" He said darkly. If Joe heard the thickness, it hadn't moved him.

"Cain denied you water, like the others had denied me. That was the one time you truly knew what it meant to be thirsty. To have to fight for your life with nothing in you to aid you. To give you strength. When the odds were stacked against you and you had every reason in the world to give up. You stayed strong. You fought."

"So did you."

"I fought my way out of something I did. I did that. I created that desperation in them because of what I did to them. You went through the same struggles and never lost your honor. Your integrity. Your righteousness. When I'm tested, I hold innocent people for ransom. There was no honor in what I did. You all handle your trials with such poise."

"So did you. I think you're being too hard on yourself Joe. You were put into an impossible situation. A grown man couldn't have handled it any better. You did the only thing you knew you could do."

"No. I took the coward's way out. You fought with justice and righteousness. I risked the lives of the innocent to save my own. How could I do that?" Adam reflected for a moment. They were going through the same tired circle. He took a breath and looked out at the horizon. Joe, figuring Adam was out of ways to excuse his actions leaned back against the post next to him.

"How did it feel?" Adam finally asked.

"What?"

"What you did? How did it feel?" Joe swallowed thickly.

"Awful."

"Not now. Then? How did it feel then? To hold the lives of others in the palm of your hand? Did it feel good? How did it feel when you were doing it?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Did you enjoy it? Did it make you feel powerful?"

"No."

"Oh, let's be honest." Adam scoffed. "They attacked you and you got the better of them. Surely you got some sense of enjoyment out of it. In a moment when you felt so weak, to gain that power. To hold their lives in your hands. They had no choice but to trust in you. They were the weak ones. Surely, that had to make you smile inside. That had to have given you some sense of satisfaction."

"No!" He stopped Adam. "I hated it. I hated that they pushed me into it."

"Exactly."

"What?"

"There. You said it." He shook his head confused. "Those were your words not mine. They pushed you into it. They left you no choice. You didn't enjoy it. You're not some monster Joe. You did what you had to do to survive. They weren't innocent."

"I didn't know that."

"You took a gamble and you won."

"At what cost?"

"At the cost of the guilty!" Joe went quiet. "They may not have murdered Benson but you, you, they were trying to kill."

He reflected on Adam's words as if for the first time he might have actually entertained the validity in them. After a while he smiled, a soft and subtle one but it was more than enough for the elder brother. They stayed silent for a while staring out at the open sky. Joe at one point chuckled to himself which confused Adam.

"That was an awfully risky gamble." The boy intimated. He wasn't sure where Joe was going with this. "What would have happened if I said I did enjoy it?" Adam still wasn't understanding. "You know. Holding those people like they were. What would you have said if I told you I enjoyed it?" Adam smirked as he understood.

"I knew you wouldn't. You forget, I've raised you since you were a baby. I know you better than that Joe." The boy chuckled and leant back against the post looking out. After a moment of reflection Joe began to lose that smile again. Afraid the boy was about to think himself right back into his destructive thoughts he urged him out attempting to distract him.

"Come on." He patted. "Let's get back to the house." But as he walked away, Joe didn't budge. What was he contemplating? "Joe?"

"I'll meet you back there." He answered back. "I've got something I have to do." He went to his horse and mounted up.

"Where're you going?"

"To town."

"To town?"

"There's something I've got to do." He rode out.

He thought he might have fixed this, whatever was going on with Joe. He thought he might have actually gotten through to him but as his brother rode away, he considered that perhaps it wasn't all resolved in Joe's mind. Clearly there was something more he felt he had to do. Now Adam was caught at an impasse. Let his brother go alone and possibly get himself hurt, or… He mounted his own horse and kicked him on.

"What are you doing here? I didn't ask you to come." The boy said as he pulled alongside.

"I know. I just wanted you to know that I'm here if you need me. Whatever you've got to do, Joe, you don't have to do it alone." Joe let it be which told Adam it was not a mistake in him coming.

~.~

He was surprised and a bit wary when Joe took them to the International House Hotel. He could only think for one reason he might have come here. If he could hear it from one of the only other survivors, that might help bring about closure.

He followed Joe up the stairs and down the hall, until they were standing in front of her door. She opened at the knock.

There was a tense moment when they both stared at each other neither knowing what to say. Adam had to hand it to her though. She hadn't tried to shut the door on him. It was as if she already knew things needed to be said.

"I heard you were at the funeral."

"You weren't." She turned away and let him come in.

"Is that why you came here? To lecture me on that."

"There are worse things to lecture you for." They both knew what he was hinting at.

"I didn't want that to happen to you." She started. "I tried to help you." Those words had an ill-effect on him as if she'd struck into him with a dagger.

"You tried to have me killed." He pushed the threshold. Adam stayed in the doorway looking in.

"No. I tried to help you escape."

"If I'd been caught, they would have had every reason to hang me." He could see it in her eyes, she knew this were true. Whether he'd have been caught or not he'd be out of the picture. Either way it would have solved her problems.

"I have my own guilt for what they did to you."

"For what you did to me. Face it Laurie. You did it. You have just as much guilt to share in this as the rest of them."

"No. I tried to help you." She stressed. She softened her demeanor. "Believe it or not, I actually liked you." She said, placing tender hands at his cheeks. "You were sweet, honorable. Treated me like a lady." He grabbed her wrist and drew her hands down as if her touch repulsed him.

"We played this game once before, right before you turned on me." He flung them away and turned from her.

"I had to!" She cried out. "You accused my father." She pulled him back demanding to be seen. "When you did that, the others started to look at him with suspicion too. I did what I had to do to protect him. To get the attention off of him." Adam watched the drama play out before him making sure it didn't get too far. He felt Joe needed this confrontation to help him come to terms with what happened to him.

"So, you lean on the youngest. The most innocent." Something about those words struck Adam. That was what they were all thinking it was just intriguing to hear Joe voice it.

"I didn't want to accuse you, but I had to. You left me no choice. What about what you did?" She deflected. "What you did was so much worse. We trusted you. We thought you were leading us out, but you took us there to die. You would have killed us all, just to save yourself."

"You were trying to kill me!" Joe finally burst free. "What did you expect me to do?! Walk myself right into a rope?!"

This was the first he's said in his own defense. He said it with such passion, such fervor that it scared Adam. He propped up ready to intervene if needs be. Joe wasn't known for striking women out of anger but everyone has their breaking point. She timidly stepped back. She fumbled for the chair at the rooms dining table and fell into it. Joe must have recognized his own discomposure because he took a breath to regain himself.

"How far?" He asked coolly.

"What?"

He sat in the chair opposite and leaned in using the table as a block.

"How far would you have let it get?" He asked the question that everyone wanted to ask. "If I hadn't the knowhow to lead you guys out of that desert, would you have let them kill me? Knowing I was innocent?" She turned away, with her evasion giving them both her answer.

Joe let out a disparaged breath. He got up and walked out past Adam letting him know he was ready to leave.

"He was just a boy." The older brother admonished when they were alone.

"I think he's more capable than you give him credit for."

"Oh, I know he is."

~.~

"You still think I was right?" Joe posed the question as they strode back to the house as if he needed that affirmation.

"I know you were. You were put into an impossible situation. You made a decision no man should ever have to make. Especially one of your years. You were wise way beyond your years, and you came out victorious."

"Why does everyone still see me as a boy?"

"Isn't that what this is really about?"

"What?"

"Are you going to try to deny it? Tell me that wasn't on your mind? You want to be seen as a man, but deep down you still feel like a boy. Don't you? You felt like a boy then. You felt weak? Didn't you? Vulnerable? Young? Too young to die and too young to handle something like this on your own. You don't just question yourself for what you did. You question them. For what they did. What they did to you. You ask yourself, what kind of people would do this to someone so young? You can't help it. It's only natural. You can't help but question why. I question it. Heck, we all question it. Why Joe would they do this to a boy? You were the youngest, presumably the most innocent and it was that innocent child they preyed on. That child that they tried to murder." Tears silently strolled down the boy's face but he wiped them away ashamed of his own vulnerability. "I've thought a lot on that myself. I think I've figured out the answer." Joe looked up at him through blurry eyes. "Would you like to know why? I could tell you." The boy nodded his response. "They didn't go after you despite you being a boy, they went after you because you were a boy. Because you were the most innocent. Because you were the least threat to them. You were the easiest to pin it on. A young boy like you wouldn't have had what it took to prevent a noose. Because you were naïve? Because they saw you as someone weaker than they."

"Am I?"

"What? Weak?" He nodded. "I think you already proved that to be otherwise."

"I don't feel strong. Why can't I be strong like you? People just look at you and see strength. Same with the rest of you. They look at me and…well you already know what they see."

"It's unfortunate for them. They didn't know the spirit you had within you. Sad thing was, they had to find out the hard way just how strong you really are."

"I don't feel it."

"You're strong Joe." He stopped his horse and pulled Cochise's reins forcing Joe to stop too. "You're so strong that sometimes it scares me. I'm not ready for you to grow up. I want you to stay young so I can protect you. But you've grown past that now and that scares me that I can't protect you like that anymore."

"I have nightmares." Joe dropped down and began walking from him.

"I have nightmares too Joe!" Adam blurted without thinking about it. Joe stopped and looked back. Seeing Joe's shock, he wished he could reverse the hands of time, but it was too late to take back those words. Perhaps it was time to come clean. He slid down and began fiddling with his canteen as if to distract himself. "Yes. I have nightmares too." He opened it up and offered Joe some. Joe came back and took a drink before handing it back. Adam toyed with the thing before saying. "Cain." He took a swig and swiped at his mouth. "He visits me sometimes."

"Really?" Adam took another swig and nods, swiping at his mouth again.

"That's right." The elder brother took a breath screwing on the cap. He offers Joe some more but Joe denied it. As Adam re-straps it to the saddle horn, he admits. "He's not the only thing that gives me nightmares." Joe was inquisitive. "I've been having a lot of them lately." He stopped, almost talking into his saddle. "Same dream over and over." Why was he just hearing of this?

"Of what?" Adam gave him a side glance before responding.

"You Joe." The answer took the boy by surprise.

"Me?"

"They started the day I put a bullet in you." Adam's eyes gleamed, but he was never the one to cry and he wasn't going to start now. He gulped to swallow his pain. "I can't shake the images. Wolves. I see your body being ripped apart by them. I can't get to you in time. I can never get to you in time."

"You still have them?"

"They were starting to go away, you know, but then this happened and they came back full swing."

"The same dream?"

"Before, it used to be just the one wolf. Now there's a pack of 'em. All fighting to get a piece of you." How had Joe been so blind as to not see how his eldest brother struggled? "By the time I'm able to beat them away, I look down and there's nothing left of you. Nothing left to save." He gulped. "You see?" He turned to Joe. "That's what these people were to you. Hungry mindless wolves. They each had their own goal to achieve and made up their collective minds to tear apart anything that kept them from achieving it. That was you Joe. The innocent boy, who believed in justice and righteousness. They were no less menacing to you than that beast, that wolf that attacked you a few months back." Joe lowered his head humbly as if he had finally allowed himself to believe that he was the victim in all this. "So, you see? I'm human too. It may not look like it, but we're all affected by our experiences. It shapes us. Molds us into the people we are. You know, it wasn't very long ago where I was exactly where you are now. Weighed down by the guilt of my actions."

"When?"

"When I shot you Joe." He was looking at Joe now. "Have you not been paying attention?"

"That was an accident. I don't blame you."

"You almost died Joe. Do you know how much that affected me?" He gesticulated. "I almost killed you." He was almost scaring Joe with his fervor. Perhaps Adam could see the affect he was having on the boy because he slaked, leaning back against the saddle. "The fact that I couldn't save you now, it only reminded me of how incompetent I really am." Before Joe could debate, he continued. "I fear for you Joe. I fear the day the wolves are coming. I fear that I can't be there to protect you, and that scares the hell out of me."

Joe wrapped an arm around his elder brother. Adam looked on warily at the top of his brother's curls, then smirked before bringing him in with a comforting arm of his own. A weird thing for two grown men to be hugging way out here so they let it be at that.

~.~

Joe seemed to be doing better. He'd come to terms with everything that happened out there. The part that each one shared that led to things turning out the way they did. He accepted it as something he couldn't go back and change. He had to move forward. What would he change if he could?

A few days later when driving back in from the range with Adam, he was alerted to find a horse and cart out in front of the house. They had a visitor. He was even more surprised when he went in to see who it was. His pa and Hoss sat in the living room with the aging father and his fiery red-haired daughter. Adam and Joe couldn't help but entertain that perhaps he'd just escaped custody and now they were seeking a place of refuge. She was at his side keeping a long stare in the floor.

"Joe." He stood to greet him. "I'm glad I got a chance to see you again before we said goodbye."

"He's been exonerated." His pa offered to answer the question he knew his son would undoubtedly have.

"That's right." Leon recapitulated. "Turns out nobody's really looking for me. The men who had accused me came clean a long time ago, when they realized, they weren't going to get a special deal for accusing me."

"Congratulations." It felt weird saying this, but Joe was at a want for felicitations. Leon cleared his throat attempting to clear away the awkwardness.

"Roy told me the funeral was a week ago." He said to Joe attempting to change the subject. "I'm sorry we couldn't make it. I've been a little tied up." It was a poor joke, he knew.

"Where are you going now?" Joe said, extending a helping hand.

"I think we're going to continue on to San Francisco. Start a new life out there. We're set to leave early tomorrow morning. First stage. I just wanted to come by before we left." Leon knew it was probably foolish to come here, but he just couldn't leave and start life afresh without first sweeping the trail clean. "You know, it could have been anyone of us that murdered him." The aging ex-con adduced. "We all had a reason to hate Mr. Benson. But every one of us, each for our own reason's, made you the scapegoat. By God's good grace, the only thing that kept you alive was that you knew the way out."

"We trusted him to save us and instead he took us to that cave to die." She spurned embittered.

"That's not fair." The old man defended. "He took us there until the real killer confessed."

"He was sitting over the body holding the murder weapon. We had every reason to believe it was him." She was defending her point to her father, but really to everyone in the room.

"Oh, don't start that again. You knew I didn't do it!"

"I was wrong."

"No. You were right. Just for the wrong reasons. You needed someone to take the fall and I was the pick of the litter."

"You were willing to take the lives of four others to save yourself. Three were innocent." Ben grimaced at these words, fearing they would crawl their way back into Joe's subconscious. But he couldn't step in. He had to let his son stand for himself. Whatever progress they had made, however much it gets reversed in these next few minutes, they'll make again. Over and over again if they have to until he believes it. Truly believes it.

"None of you were innocent! You all knew I didn't kill him and you would have killed me anyways. You were not innocent. You would have all been murderers."

"You didn't know that."

"But you did!"

She wept into her father's chest. The venerable man wrapped an arm around her. This had gotten out of his control. Maybe it was a mistake bringing Laurie with him, but he knew he had to come. He nodded obeisance and led her out of the house. He got her tucked up in the wagon, then turned back to the house. All four men stood on the porch now. Joe in front and the others taking protective positions around him like Anubis. The men knew what the father was trying to do and appreciated the effort. He approached them all and tried one more time.

"This was not how I intended for any of this to go." Cutting open fresh wounds in the process of healing. "I know it may not mean much to you now, but I'm sorry for everything we did to you, and, thank you for everything you did for us, when you know, you didn't have to. Getting us out of that desert and saving our lives. Lord knows we didn't deserve it. A lesser man would have left us."

Joe couldn't form a good response. What was he supposed to say? 'You're welcome? No problem? Sure, anytime?'

He managed a nod. Leon loaded up next to her and drove out. That was the last he would ever see of them.

~.~

The ex-con, Joe thought, turned out to be the most honorable of the rest of them. Sure, he was imperfect, but he was the only one who wasn't absolutely confident Joe wasn't the murderer when he participated in his suffering, however indirectly. When he apologized, it was as if he was apologizing on all of their behalves. Joe wasn't sure the others would apologize if they could. Laurie proved how she still felt on the matter, in spite of her father's attempts. He would never hear the words he needed to hear from her. In a perfect world perhaps, but this world was not perfect. He would have to make do with her father's apology.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know. I feel like I might have been too harsh on her. She took on the brunt for all of them."

"You're wishing you could talk to them?"

"They're the ones that visit me at night."

"Maybe you ought to visit them on your terms?" Adam suggested.

"What?"

"Maybe it's time to go back. Visit the graves. Ask them the questions you wanted to ask. Tell them what you need to say."

"I'm not ready for that. Maybe someday."

"Yeah, Someday."

"Come on. Let's get washed up." His pa suggested. "Suppers about ready."

A word from the author: Thank you Ultramarine, Yvonne, BMSH, Rosemoore and the two anonymous guests for the kind review.

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