Dedicated to all those times when you have taken up the banner and led the way, even when you didn't know where you're going or why you had to…
 

Hmmm, what was that noise? Sounded like the front door closing. But all the boys are home tonight. Better check it out….
And donning his robe against the cool summer night air, Ben Cartwright went quietly down the hall, easing open doors and peeking in on his sleeping sons. The glow from his lamp showed Ben that Adam had fallen asleep while reading. Again. Softly stealing in, he eased the book from Adam's long fingered grasp and laid it aside. His eldest just sighed heavily, lost in deep sleep now instead of the pages of his most recent acquisition. Ben fingertipped back into place that tiny little bit of hair that fell across Adam's brow. With an indulgent smile for his eldest son, he turned the lamp down then blew out the light completely and left the room as quietly as he had entered.

The soft pale moonlight streaming through the open window in Hoss' room showed Ben that his stalwart middle son was deep in the arms of sleep as well. As Ben stood watching, Hoss snorted once in his sleep and flopped over to his side, making the bedstead groan. Of all his sons, Ben would have bet that this middle child of his always went to bed and slept the night through.  Even if he could snore loud enough to rattle the windowpanes downstairs. Probably what gives him his sunny disposition, Ben thought and started to turn away but then went back and pulled the quilt up a little higher on his son's broad shoulders.

The third room he stopped at, he knew even before he opened the door, held no sleeping son, the bedcovers a tangled mess and the bed empty. Ah Joseph, my restless one, he thought but chided himself as he though he should have known. Wondering what could possibly be the problem, Ben trudged on down the stairs and across the main room to the door.

Ben stopped in the shadows of the porch to watch his youngest son as he stood over close to the corral by the barn. There was enough light from the moon that Ben could see his son was dressed, but obviously not going anywhere as he was also barefoot, his shirt hanging loose, unbuttoned. As he watched, Ben saw Joseph stretch his arms and roll his shoulders, shifting his head from side to side as he did so, then he simply stood, head back letting the light evening breeze wash across him. The smile that came across Ben's face then was a different smile from the one that had graced it just moments ago in his other sons' presence. This smile was one of commiseration.

For the past couple of weeks, Joe had been busy working with a string of horses destined to be Army mounts. Taking the young horses straight from their own herds and breaking them to ride was a very physically demanding job but one that the youngest Cartwright took to with relish. There was nothing he liked better than to take a wild mustang and as he called it " come to an understanding of just who was riding who." Joe had never liked the term "breaking" for a horse for that implied the taking away of the animal's spirit and just as he didn't want that for himself, he wouldn't want it for any creature. But whatever it was labeled, the job still entailed a good deal of bruises and sore spots for the "rider".  And to Ben's long practiced eye, the "rider" was working his way through his fair share of those sore spots that evening.

"And how many did you take to a standstill today, Joseph?" Ben asked, coming up to stand just an arm's length away behind his son as he stood at the corral fence.

"It wasn't the ones I rode to a standstill, Pa. It was the ones that took me. What are you doing up?"

Typical of you son, deflect the conversation from yourself but I can do that as well as you can. "Thought I heard a noise that I needed to go check on. Found you out here and wondered why you weren't sleeping like your brothers. Anything wrong?" and Ben let his hand glide across his son's shoulders, feeling the tight muscles there as he moved to his side.
"No sir, just couldn't sleep tonight. I'm sorry I woke you."

Ben tightened his hand reflexively over his son's slim shoulder and felt the tiny little jerk just beneath the shirt that telegraphed a sore spot. He let his hand slide slowly down his son's back and felt the knotted muscles just beneath the thin fabric of the shirt. He was gratified to hear Joe sigh just a bit and lean into his father's touch.

"I'll give you half a month's wages if you can get that kink out from between my shoulder blades, Pa."

"Well, I won't take the wages but I will see what I can do about the other. But back inside. This cool night air isn't any good for sore muscles, Son."

"Yes sir" and Ben caught the impish smile that came with it. As they walked back towards the house, Ben noted his youngest's slight limp. One horse too many, Joseph, one horse too many. Guess I never will teach you about overdoing it, will I?

"As usual, you are the last one down this morning little brother," Adam's voice stabbed at Joe the next morning as his brother passed his chair, headed for his own place to their father's right. Intent on his own plate of eggs and bacon, Adam missed the fleeting scowl his father aimed at him.  Hoss, on the other hand hadn't missed it at all, and aimed a kick under the table at Adam's leg. That missed Adam as well and Hoss didn't try again, afraid that motion would draw fire from one end of the table or the other.

"Morning, Joseph." Ben greeted. Yes, Joseph was up a tad late that morning but considering how long it had taken him to fall asleep the night before, Ben wasn't surprised.  It had taken almost an hour of Ben's kneading the young man's back, shoulders and thighs before the knots and tenseness was gone enough for him to drift off.

Before Joe could return his father's greeting, Adam spoke up, still not looking beyond his plate. "Hope you are through with those horses, boy. Army will be here next week for them." Joe opened his mouth to reply but never got the chance as Adam went on. "Need you to help Hoss with the branding for a couple of days." Adam looked up just in time to catch the ugly look crossing Joe's face, but again plunged on." We're short handed what with the mines going full out and we just can't spare you to play with your horses any more, Joe"

"Those horses need more work on them, Adam. Some of them need…" Joe was trying, Ben saw, to keep his temper but Adam that morning was too intent on other things to notice anything at all.

"What we need is for you to be out helping with the branding." Adam finally turned his full attention to his youngest brother and spoke each word with all the authority and emphasis in his voice he could attain.

With one shake of his head, Joe threw down the napkin he had just picked up. He shoved his chair back and started to leave the table.

"Joseph!" Ben barked, and it stopped Joe right beside Adam. Looking down, hard emerald eyes met coal black ones.
"Excuse me, Pa. I have to go saddle my horse." And without another glance, Joe stalked from the house, closing the front door with a resounding thud.

Ben was livid with both Adam and Joe. "Hoss, please leave -"

"But I just started eatin-"

"Now" and Hoss knew better than to argue when his father's voice took that tone.

Adam threw down his fork and started to rise as well, wanting out of his father's presence as well. It came as a surprise when he heard Ben's "Adam! Sit!" And it rankled. He thought that he was beyond the age when his father would address him in such a manner, as if he were a small boy caught in some mischief. More and more of late, his father had entrusted the running of the ranch to him and he thought he had been doing a good job of it, despite the fact that they were seriously short handed and falling behind on some critical time frames. Although the worries had been daunting and sometimes almost all consuming, Adam had kept at it. And now this was how his father was going to treat him? Ordering him like an errant schoolboy?

"I realize that we are having trouble keeping good hands and that there is far and away more work than we can handle but that was uncalled for, young man." Ben's own temper was flaring a touch that morning as well, he knew.

"What, telling Joe what I wanted him to do today? That's uncalled for, Pa? I think you are taking the wrong son to task here. It's Joe that needs the lecture here." Adam spoke defensively, not afraid of the look on his father's face. "Those horses are in good enough shape for the Army. We need every available hand out helping with the branding. And that means Joe as well."
Ben tried to compose himself. He knew and understood the logic of what Adam was saying was sound. But he also knew that Adam was going about it all wrong. And he told him so.

At that Adam exploded, much more like his volatile brother than himself. "Pa, I am not going to molly-coddle Joe the way you do. He has always had trouble taking orders and this morning just proves it all. I tell him what to do and he gets mad and you come to his defense. He is a man and needs to be dealt with like a man."

Adam's words hit his father like the sharp prick of a knife that barely draws blood but wounds all the same. When Adam saw his father's brows draw together into a furious line, he regretted the words but not the meaning behind them. He knew he was right in what he had said even if his father didn't agree with him.

"Let me ask you something, Adam. What have you been doing the last few days?"

The question took Adam unexpectedly. He had honestly expected a barrage on the defense of how his father treated them all alike."Well, Pa, you know as well as I do.  You and I have been going over the branding schedule then we went up and took a look at the timber on the ridge for the Ophir contract. Yesterday, I went into town for mail and the supplies and see if I could hire any more hands for the season. What does that have to do with Joe and his behavior?"

"And just what has Hoss be doing?"

Still clearly not understanding what his father was aiming at, Adam answered."Gathering strays. Pa what are you getting at?"
Ben had finally gotten his own temper under control. Gazing down the length of the table across his steepled hands, he replied in measured words. "While you have been going over schedules, riding out to look at stands of timber and going into town and Hoss has been gathering strays, your brother has been working with some very green broke horses. That string of horses is what? Twenty, twenty five head? And with the exception of two other hands helping him, he has busted every last one of them himself. Now you may think what your brother does is "play" with those horses but I have news for you, young man, I don't think of it that way and I assure you, Joseph doesn't either."

"Okay, so it was a poor choice of words-"

"No" Ben said swiftly and sharply, "A poor choice of attitude on your part. You said it yourself just now. Joseph is a man and should be dealt with as a man. You haven't dealt with him that way at all this morning. Something else you need to take into consideration, Adam. He runs the horse operation now and when he says the horses are ready, they're ready. Not you."
"Pa, you and I have been overseeing the running of this ranch for a lot of years together. I have never heard you complain about the way I handled things until now. This is a prime example of how you baby Joe. For God's sake, Pa-"

The explosion came and Adam found himself looking up at his father's angry face. "Last night, Adam I found him out by the corral, unable to sleep because his back hurt. When I went to rub out some of that, I found bruises on top of bruises. "Baby", "molly-coddle", those were the words you used when you said how I deal with your brother, right? Well, Adam Cartwright, show me the bruises you've gotten this week in running the ranch and I will deal with you the same way I deal with Joseph."
Contrition was not an easy emotion for Adam Cartwright to express but he felt that it was a warranted one, given his father's words. "Okay, Pa I'm sorry. I'm more than just a little on edge this morning. It's just that things haven't exactly gone our way, recently. We're behind on getting those cattle ready for market. That contract for lumber for the Ophir had some tight deadlines on it that I am worried we can't meet with the mill being short handed. And add to that this heat this early in the year is gonna dry up water that we need for everything." And Adam rose once again to his feet, putting the chair between himself and his still irate father. "I'm sorry I lost my temper this morning, Pa"

"Apologize to your brothers, Adam. They both deserve it." But both men heard the sound of a horse leaving the yard and it didn't take much to know which one of the missing brothers it was.

Teeth clenching and jaw tightening, Adam headed for the door. "Guess I better go catch that one," he softly growled.
"Take his gloves to him, Adam. And take yours too. Roping cattle burns your hands," came his father's clipped admonition. Although Adam had had other plans that day, he knew he had better be found helping with the branding.
 

The sun was high in the sky by the time Ben Cartwright got away from the house and down into the pasture where the crews were busy branding cattle.  The spring calves were plentiful that year. They had also added to the herd some recently purchased stock from a neighbor headed into mining now, not cattle. All in all, Ben had figured there were about two hundred head to be marked with the distinctive pine tree brand that was the Ponderosa mark. It looked as though it would be a good year for Ponderosa cattle on the market.  As he rode over to the fires, he saw Hoss flip a calf onto its side while Adam laid the iron on the calf's flank.

"How's it going, Hoss?" he asked as Hoss stepped back, loosening the calf who went running back towards the herd in search of it's mother, bawling.

"Not too bad Pa. All things considering," was Hoss' answer. He wondered what sort of mood his father was in and didn't want to sound anything but neutral.

"Where is your brother? Is he out here helping?" Ben was scanning the herd but didn't see Joe's most noticeable feature at a distance, his pinto.

Hoss saw the direction his father was looking and knew he wasn't talking about Adam. "Yeah, but you lookin' for the wrong horse, Pa. He wore Cochise out this morning; least wise he said he did.  Joe's out there on that new cutting horse he got from down south."

Just then Ben saw Joe, astride the horse they had named Blade, a striking chestnut with a barrel chest and powerful hindquarters. It had been a recent addition to the Cartwright stable, bought from a Texas rancher. Watching the horse cut cattle now had made Ben wish they had been able to purchase more of them. The horse seemed to think like a cow, Joe had said, all the rider had to do was pick out the cow he wanted and the horse would go get him, outflanking and out maneuvering it at every step. Yes, Ben thought again, it was a smart buy. Not just for the horse but for the lessons Joseph had gotten while he had been away last winter buying the horse. From what he had learned, Joe felt sure he could train their riding stock much of what Blade knew instinctively. The only draw back was finding the right conformation in a horse. Most of the Ponderosa stock were bred for riding, longer than Blade was and only Hoss' Chubb was the right muscular. No, Joe had said, they needed more Texas stock like Blade. There had been more than one heated discussion concerning the hefty acquisition based on an unfounded decision. Finally a compromise had been reached. They would see just how well Blade did and should all seem pleased by the performance, the coming winter, Joe would be back in Texas, buying breeding stock this time around.

As Ben watched the chestnut cutting away a calf from the herd and keeping it at bay while Joe roped it, Ben knew that Joe would get his wish and there would be more just like Blade on the Ponderosa before next spring. It was indeed a joy to watch horse and rider matching wits with the calf and when the rope settled over the calf's head, Ben smiled. No one, he thought, no one sits a horse like Joe.

When Joe finally managed to get the little whiteface up to where Hoss could reach over and drop it to its side, Ben broke his musings. He had come out there for a purpose and watching wasn't it.  He stepped over and laid a restraining hand on Joe's thigh while Joe's attention was on the calf at the other end of his rope. Joe didn't look. He knew it was his father's hand and he also knew his father wanted to discuss his behavior that morning. Once the calf was branded and tallied, Joe backed the chestnut up two steps, releasing pressure on the rope. Hoss had leaned over and un-looped the rope and Joe coiled it back into his hand, while the horse stood stock still beneath him, waiting for the signal to go again. His father's hand had remained on his leg the entire time.

"Take a break, son." Ben said and Joe automatically finished the sentence for him in his own head "I want to talk to you." So he nudged the horse lightly with his knee towards the shadow of nearby trees, his hands still curling the rope. Ben noted that Joe wasn't even holding the reins, they were looped over the chestnut's neck. In one graceful move, Joe was off the horse and waiting for his father's words.

"How's Blade doing?" Ben thought that he would start casually, running his hand down the horse's broad shoulder. He knew the answer but wanted to hear it from Joe's point of view.

"I saw you watching, Pa so you know Blade is out-doing every other horse out there. He's quicker on his feet and more focused on what he's doin'. Makes it easier and faster to get this job over with. But to tell the truth, I wouldn't want to use him as a range pony. Prefer Cochise for that. Smoother gait. Ride this fella all day out checking fences and I would feel like I had been ridin' broncs instead. But for what we're doing here, perfect." And Joe stopped in his praise of the horse before tackling the real reason he knew his father wanted to talk. "But you knew that already Pa. About this morning…"

But his father stopped him with a hand to his son's shoulder. "Yes, about this morning. Did Adam say anything to you?"
"He apologized if that is what you mean." And beneath his hand, Ben could feel the muscles constricting.

"And…?"

Looking up to his father's face, Joe pulled the scowl from his features and replaced it with a little smile. "And I am sorry I created such a ruckus at the table this morning."

Ben shook his head, letting a smile come to his own lips. "You did not create the "ruckus" as you called it, at the table this morning. Your brother did. Granted, you didn't help it. But I am proud of the fact that you managed to keep your temper. Fact is you did a better job of keeping your temper under control than either your brother or I did."

Joe snorted just a little, relieved that his father wasn't taking him to task for his presumed misbehavior. "Actually, Pa, that was kind of easy this morning. I'm just too tired to argue with Adam. Right now, I'm too tired to argue with anybody." Ben saw his beloved little boy again, not the man before him. "But like Adam says, we are awful short handed so I better get back out there."

Ben glanced over to where the rest of the crew was working and saw that they were all busy, no one looking in their direction so he reached out and gave his son a quick hug, then playfully swatted him and told him to get out there then. In more testament than his words had given to how tired he was, Ben watched as Joe simply stepped into the stirrup and swung into the saddle. Usually, Joe would have vaulted into the saddle and been gone in half the time. Once more, Ben put his hand on Joe's leg and stopped him.

"Tonight, son, I'll see what I can do about taking that half a month's wages from you. That is if you want me to."
The smile he got back was the one Joe normally used to stop young ladies' hearts.

For the rest of the afternoon, Ben stayed out and helped where he could. Even though he was still an active man, he knew he had no business trying to drop the calves the way Hoss did. What he did made his eldest son a bit put out but Ben figured Adam had it coming. He took Adam's place with the branding iron and had Adam start cutting the calves out the same way Joe was.

The horse Adam had pulled from the remuda was a short gray with black stockings called Hardhead.  The name had come from Joe while he had been training it earlier in the spring and for obvious reasons. Eventually the horse would make a good cutting horse but it needed a lot more work. Add to that was the fact that Adam tended to use the reins more than his body to tell the horse what he wanted done and it was confusing to the animal.

After about an hour, Joe reined up next to Adam as Adam was loudly castigating the gray for losing another calf back to the herd. "Here, Adam." Joe dismounted and if Adam hadn't done the same, he would have pulled him from the saddle. "Take Blade. Let me work with Hardhead some."

"Gladly!" was Adam's terse reply.

"And Adam, don't neck rein him. He knows what he's doin'. Just show him which calf you want, let him get him and hold him while you rope him." Joe instructed but the cold look from Adam's eyes told him that that had been the wrong thing to do.
"I have been handling horses a lot longer than you, little brother. Don't tell me how to do my job. You just do yours," Adam snapped, and although what he said was true, Joe knew what his brother had been doing that afternoon was wrong.

Joe had just pulled another calf up to the branding area when a shout went up down by the herd. From his higher vantagepoint, Joe could see that Blade was down and struggling to get back up. The dust cloud that had formed showed no sign of his brother. With a quick flip, Joe dropped the rope and spun the gray, headed back to the herd, looking for Adam.
Men were hurrying from every direction now. The ones on horseback quickly placed themselves and their mounts between the herd and the downed horse and rider. The ones on foot went to Adam and Blade. Joe was torn. Half of him wanted to see that Adam was okay but the other half knew the herd would spook easily and cause more damage if not contained. He stayed with the herd, but kept watching over his shoulder at the scene unfolding from the dust behind him.

Adam and Blade were both down as was a full-grown cow on the other end of the rope that had been tied to the saddlehorn. The problem lay in the fact that the rope was also looped around one foreleg of the chestnut and the more the cow struggled, the tighter the rope became around the horse's leg, keeping him from rising. Joe could see only part of Adam as his father knelt at the horse's back. And Hoss was trying to roll the panicky horse to its feet but was having no success.

Giving the herd a quick glance, Joe turned the gray towards the cow. There was only one option in his mind: stop the cow from moving. That would allow Blade the chance to gain his footing and rise from on top of his brother. And there was only one way to stop the cow. When he was nearly on top of the cow, Joe pulled his revolver and fired a single shot that ended the cow's movement. Hardhead danced wildly at the sudden sound so close to his head. Joe was not expecting the horse to react at all and from years of experience, he did what came by instinct: he yanked hard on the reins. The gray stumbled in its wild dance and Joe was thrown hard to the ground. He lit hard on one shoulder and tried to roll but couldn't, caught between the now dead cow and the prancing black legs. He knew if he stayed down, the odds of being stepped on were too high.
Using the reins, he hauled down on the horse and raised himself to his knees. Hardhead still danced.

Up the slope from where Joe was trying to rise, what he had done was paying off. With the slack in the line now, the chestnut was trying to get to his feet. Ben had moved to try and shield Adam's prostrate form with his own body from the thrashing of the horse while Hoss was pushing at Blade. Joe could hear the terrified screams of the horse and the shouting of the men. He caught snatches of the view as the dust continued to swirl around the scene above him, the rope making a line through the chaos. In horror, Joe watched as the inevitable happened. Blade was just about to his feet, his father moving closer to Adam, Hoss pushing hard on the horse's side when Hardhead's dancing rear legs snagged the rope. Blade went down again, but this time trapped three men.

In Joe's mind, time stood still. The men, horses and cattle around him were all frozen in place and the only movement at all came from his own hand. The one still holding the gun. The first shot he took while still on his knees and went into the under side of the gray's jaw. The second came as he slid to a frantic stop a few paces from the panicked chestnut and went into horse's broad forehead.

*
Hours later, as the wind whispered through the trees in its evening voice, sighing to the bright moon overhead, Joseph Cartwright sat on the broad front porch of his home. The lights behind him blazed brightly through the windows and open door. His booted feet rested on the upright, leaning him well back in the rocker. He finally heard the sound he had been waiting for: footfalls coming down the stairs inside.

Doc Martin was rolling his sleeves down as Joe approached him. The doctor quickly assessed the young man before him. There was a faint scent of whiskey but the green eyes were steady and clear. From what he had been told of this afternoon's accident, the doctor would have forgiven Joe even if he had been passed out cold drunk on the sofa. The site had been a horrendous one, he was sure. The men who had helped bring in the three injured Cartwrights had spoken of it in whispered voices. How Joe had coldly put bullets in two horses then, when unable to move the one horse trapping his two brothers and father without causing them greater pain, had taken the axe from the chuck wagon and roughly butchered the animal.

"Adam's awake. Why don't you go sit with him for a bit? I'll let you know about your father. Hop Sing is with Hoss but I think Hoss will sleep through the night. Go on, young man. I'm going to find some coffee. You look like you could use some too. Then we need to sit down and talk some." Paul Martin didn't know if he should have been relieved or not that there was no response.

Adam had thought about drifting back to sleep when he heard his door open. Through out the grueling afternoon, he had drifted in and out, comprehending little of what was going on around him. He kept hearing Joe's voice giving orders but had only seen him once and that was an obscene vision as his brother had been liberally coated in fresh blood, from the broad band across his sweaty forehead, down his naked chest and on his arms clear to the elbows. Finally, there had been an all-encompassing pain as he was moved and he had doubted his brother's word that everything was going to be all right. Now as his door opened, he saw Joe and doubted the vision, not the words.

"Are you all right?" Adam asked, surprised to find his voice weak.

Trying to put on his best face, Joe smiled lopsidedly at his big brother. "That's suppose to be my question. But then I know the answer and you don't. You will be okay, Doc Martin says. From the looks of it, I'd say you got yourself a nice busted leg, some ribs as well and the way your eyes are moving around in your head, a concussion to boot. Did I miss anything?"
"Not that I know of but then again, I am not sure how I even got here. Want to fill me in? Where is Pa?" and as he asked, Adam had started to rise up. Joe was quickly beside him, gently pushing him back into the pillows.

"Pa is the same place you are: in bed. And you don't remember what happened?"

 Adam had heard enough. "Pa? What happened, Joe? Is he okay?" Adam's grip on his brother's arm would have been sufficient to leave bruises. But it was more the look in Adam's eyes that scared Joe.

"Settle back down, Adam. You're not going to be helping Pa or yourself out by getting riled up so just let me and Doc Martin take care of things." But seeing the expression on his brother's face, Joe knew he had to put more behind his words. "ADAM!" he scolded as his brother tried to rise again from the bed, but Joe also found the doctor beside him, helping to push Adam back down.

"Now see here, young man, you are not going any where. Do you understand me? Lay still. Joe was right. He and I will take care of things. I haven’t gotten the chance to properly set your leg so any more of this thrashing around you're doing will only make it all worse. Do you understand me?" The doctor's words had more effect on Adam than his brother's did. "Your father will be fine. The accident this afternoon broke his arm and dislocated his shoulder. He is going to be out of commission for a while but he will be fine. Do you hear me, Adam Cartwright?" Doc Martin explained, resettling the man into the bed and checking the bindings around the man's chest. "I repeat, do you understand me? A simple yes or no will suffice."

"Yes. But I still don't know what happened." Adam moaned, going further even in making his tone more contrite.

"Explanations can wait until morning. Now I want you to close your eyes and see about getting some rest. Or I shall have to take the sort of measures I generally use on your little brother here." Doc Martin turned and gestured angrily for Joe to step from the room with him. Out in the hallway he handed Joe a cup of coffee he had set on the bureau outside Adam's door when he had heard the sharp voices within. "Take this and drink it. If you can't keep from fighting with Adam, go on down to the main room."

Joe was surprised by the vehemence in the doctor's voice and almost started to try and explain what had happened. Instead, too tired to fight, he took the cup and did as the doctor asked, slipping quietly down the stairs. Once there, he dropped into his father's chair and sipped the coffee, thinking of the afternoon. He wasn't surprised to find his hands shaking, again. They had shook this afternoon once he had gotten back to the house as he had tried to wash the blood from them. They had shook like leaves in a strong breeze. Now, he had to force himself into calmness, again. But the scene had continued to play itself over and over in his mind: the dancing horse entangling the rope pulling the chestnut off its feet again and onto his family, the white rimmed eyes of the downed horse as Joe had put the bullet between them, the blood spraying out as he had hacked into the dead animal, trying to free his father and brothers from the crushing weight.

"I told you to drink that coffee, young man. Can't I expect any of you fool Cartwrights to do as I ask? Don't know why I persist in being your family physician. Lord knows, there are patients out there who appreciate me enough to follow instructions." Seeing Joe tip his cup up and finish it off all at once, the doctor continued down the stairs. He took a seat on the square table across from Joe and studied him closer. "I've known you since the day you were born, Joseph, so don't go trying to fool me. Something is wrong here and I want to know what it is. You already look like you haven't slept for the better part of a week. And with you, that usually means one of two things: you are worried about something or you're coming down with something. Which is it? Because we need to take care of it now. This whole situation is only liable get worse if we don't, you know. After all, some one needs to run the ranch while your father and brothers heal. They can't so that leaves you, son"

"Lord, don't I know that, Doc! From what you laid out up there, it can't go anywhere but downhill." Suddenly Joe got to his feet and started to pace the floor, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, subconsciously trying to ease the knot that had grown there all evening. "We're already under manned and behind in everything. That was why Pa was out there this afternoon. He should have been here at the house but instead he's out there trying to be a hand again. And Adam had no business on that new horse trying to work with it! If I had left things alone, Adam would have been on the gray and I would have been the one tangled in that mess. Not him. And Hoss…" Joe's voice trailed off as he stopped pacing. "…and Hoss won't have been hurt if I had thought what would happen when slack went off the line. But you know me, Doc. Act first then think about the consequences later. Well, I did just that. Now look what's happened." He sank onto the sofa.

Paul Martin thought over everything that he had heard that afternoon. First from the terrified ranch hand Joe had dispatched to his office immediately following the accident. Then from the men who had brought in big Hoss Cartwright, covered in blood that was not his own. And finally from those who had accompanied an unconscious Ben and crumbled Adam. Throughout every recitation, he had heard the same thing: Joe had stepped into chaos and taken the horror on himself, giving orders and doing what had to be done. The doctor slipped over onto the sofa beside Joe and placed a steadying hand on the younger man's arm.

"It was an accident, Joe and you did what you thought needed doing. No one is going to blame you one bit."
Joe shook his head just once and felt the room begin to fade on him. As though from far away, he could hear Doc Martin's voice but couldn't find the energy to respond.

"That's it, Joseph. Close you eyes and sleep a while. Your gonna need it. Stop fighting it. Sleep." Rising from beside him, Doc Martin shifted Joe's head and shoulders over onto the flat of the sofa then tipped his legs around to stretch him out fully. A few steps and he had the red blanket from the landing and was spreading it over Joe. Straightening, he checked the grandfather clock by the door and calculated about how long Joe would be out considering the amount of the sedative he had laced the coffee with.

"Should be long enough for his father to come around so he can deal with him, not me."

**

With the first rays of daylight came a pounding at the massive front door of the Ponderosa ranch house. Matches the pounding in my head Joe thought, coming from the kitchen with his first cup of coffee of the morning. He had awoken just minutes before, trying to figure out how he had wound up asleep on the sofa. But his more immediate thoughts were more on the condition of his family than his sleeping arrangement. Now someone at the door…

"All right, all right, I'm coming!" he fussed but not loud enough to be heard beyond the door.

Standing on the other side, hat held nervously in his hands, was Charlie. Old enough to be Ben Cartwright's father, Charlie however was just one of the hands on the Ponderosa and that was the way he wanted it. Joe couldn't remember a time when Charlie hadn't been there; he had been with the ranch that long. Chagrinned with the thought, Joe knew that there were many men on the payroll he didn't know even in the slightest. But not Charlie.

"Charlie, come on in. Want some coffee?" Joe greeted and turned from the door, forcing a heartiness into his voice he was far from feeling. And, with his back turned, he didn't see the hesitation Charlie used when he entered.
"Morning, Joe. No thanks on the coffee. Had mine this mornin' already. Listen, Joe, the hands wanted me ta ask how yer pa and brothers were?" he started.

"Well, I haven't been up to see them yet this morning but as of last night, they were fine. They're gonna be laid up for a while but they'll be okay." Joe explained, sipping at his coffee.

"That's good news ta hear, fer sure." Charlie bobbed his head in agreement with his own words. "But there is one thing we want ta know, Joe."

Joe leaned back on the back of the sofa, quickly catching the slight change in tone in Charlie's voice. When the old man didn't continue, Joe prodded with "Well, what is it?"

"It's some of the fellas who ain't been here long time like I have. We all done got it figured that with your pa and brothers laid up, you'd be taking over running things. And them newer men, they's anxious about things." The old man looked to his feet. He could feel the tension mounting in the air, coming from the young man not more than an arm's length away.

"Spit it out, Charlie. What's their problem?"

"Well," and Charlie began to twist his hat in his hand again, eyes to the floor. "They've heard some things about you, son, is all and some of them don't cotton to workin' under ya."

Anger began to build in the youngest Cartwright and it was evident on his face. "Is that all? They have any other complaints?" The words were hissed.

Old Charlie flinched at the tone Joe had used but didn't answer him.

"Is it, Charlie? Is that their chief complaint? That they don't know me except by reputation?" When Charlie still hadn't answered his questions, Joe pulled his now tightly wound body from the back of the sofa. "Gather the hands for me, Charlie. I want to talk to them."

"They's already gathered, Joe. Outside." Charlie spoke quietly.

"Then tell them I'll be out in a minute and we'll get this straightened out right now," Joe said harshly and watched as Charlie headed for the door, his hat now crumbled in his hands. Realizing that he wasn't angry with Charlie himself, Joe stopped the old man just before he got to the door. "And Charlie, thank you for coming and telling me."
"Sure thing, Joe." Charlie relaxed. This was the young'un he had watched grow up: a hot flash of temper but that kept the heart warm.

After Charlie had closed the door, Joe let his shoulders slump. What am I going to say out there? I am sure what they've heard isn't gonna help me handle all of this one bit. Seeing how is all probably true. Just go out there and don't lose your temper. You lose your temper and you'll lose it all. To fortify himself, he went to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee then went out by way of the kitchen door.

Charlie had been right, all of the men on the round-up crew were out there as well as the fencing crew. The men he had been working with on the horses were there but hanging back, away from the rest of the men. Since their attention was on Charlie as he stood at the corral fence, their backs were to Joe as he quietly walked from the house. Even Charlie hadn't seen or heard him leave the house.

Joe slowly made his way through the throng of men, listening to the words around him. "Just a rich kid, playing at working," he heard. "His brother treats him more like a hired hand." "Heard he's got a real nasty temper." "Did you see the way he was hittin' that bottle yesterday evenin' out on the porch? If his daddy was up and about, he wouldn't a been doin' that." "Word has it he's one lazy son of a bitch! Won't get out of bed unless his old man drags him out!" Joe just let the words just wash over him but it was hard not to take in the ugliness of them with each breath he took.

Once he had made it to the corral, he tossed out the remainder of his coffee, put the cup on the fence post and turned to face the thirty-odd men before him. Taking advantage of the fence behind him, Joe pulled himself up to sit on the top rung, more so he could be seen than anything else. The men quieted quickly. For several long moments, he let his eyes sweep the crowd, gauging and judging as they went. Stay calm, he kept telling himself, all the while feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Stay in control.

When he finally spoke, his voice was strong and resonant, showing none of his own fear and trepidation as it rang out through the early morning air. "For those of you who don't know who I am, my name is Joe Cartwright." He paused long enough for the murmurs to settle down. "That's right, Cartwright. The man who owns this ranch is my father. Now I realize that most of you were hired by one of my brothers-"

One chunky cowboy wearing a worn blue shirt spoke up from the middle of the crowd, "That's right, Hoss hired me to punch cows. I work for him-" but Joe cut him off.

"That's where you're wrong, friend. You work for the Ponderosa, not Hoss Cartwright. He's just a piece of it, same as I am. You may get your daily orders from him but you don't work for him." Again Joe paused long enough to gauge the effect of what he had said before he continued. All of them just continued to stare at him, waiting. "Most of you men know what happened yesterday to my family. If you didn't see it, you certainly heard about it. My father and two brothers were hurt real bad but the doc thinks they're gonna be all right.  It's gonna take some time and they're not gonna be able to work for a good while but they are gonna be all right. But let me explain one thing to all of you: starting right here and now, because of that accident, I am your boss." He let the last word sink in before he continued. "You got a problem with it, come see me. If any of you want to quit right now, you can pick up your pay. Go ahead and quit if you want to. Go to work in the mines. Sure they pay more but I, for one, want to see the sun during the day and breath clean air while I earn it. And not have to worry about several hundred feet of rock falling on me every second. But if you want to go work in the mines, you're welcome to it. Just see me and I'll get you paid up. But just remember if you do, when that mine closes down because the ore's run out or the owners can't afford you no more and you come crawling back here looking for a job, that I've got a long memory when it comes to men who leave me hangin' when I need help."

Joe waited, watching the faces of the men in the crowd. Some of them looked to their boots, others off to the side and a few met his eyes. All of them understood the threat he had just made: Leave the Ponderosa now and there would be no return for any of them.

"For those of you who decide to stay on, we've got to move cattle by the beginning of next month; some to Sacramento and the rest of the herd up to the mountains for summer grazing. Once that's over, we have fences that need mending, line shacks that'll need attention and horses to see to. By the time fall rolls around, I'm gonna need men to bring the cattle back down from the mountains for winter, close up those line shacks. I'm also gonna be looking for men to help bring in hay for winter feed, reaping and thrashing the oats and barley, too. I think it would be safe to say that I can use every last one of you for quite some time to come. But only if you want to stay. I ain't gonna force no one to stay."

The man in the dirty blue shirt spoke up again. "And just what are you gonna do if we all decide to quit? You can't hire enough help as it is. Some of us don't cotton to takin' orders from no boy."

Joe fought to keep his composure once the word "boy" had been flung at him. "What's your name?" he shouted out above the ensuing hubbub. Slowly, he got down off the fence, mindful that every eye was on him.

"Connors, Raleigh Connors, boy." And Joe heard the intentional use of the word again. He walked towards the burly man, the crowd parting easily. He stopped to within inches of the cowboy and took his measure. The man was built along the size of his brother Hoss but with a heavier gut. Inwardly, Joe was scared to take on a man this size but, to the men watching, he had to be bigger than the bully before him.

"Well, Mister Raleigh Connors," and Joe spit the 'Mister' with the same venom in his voice that he had heard in 'boy', "You got some of that right. You are right that we are havin' some trouble hiring help right now. And that might put us in a tight spot for a while if you all quit. But rest assured, Mister Connors that this winter while you are freezing your ass off riding line for some other rancher or feeling your stomach gnawin' at your back bone cause you don't have a job to feed yourself, the Ponderosa will still be here. And so will I. And as for you not liking to take orders from me, we can fix that real easy. Mister Connors, this boy just fired you."

And there was absolute silence. Connors and Joe locked eyes, Joe sure that his rising fears were shown there and the bigger man would take advantage of it. But he held his ground until the bigger man turned his head and spit. Round one is mine, Joe thought.

"Anybody else want their pay this morning?" Joe called out, looking around himself and was satisfied that there were no others wanting to follow Connors or quit. "Okay I want the same crews as yesterday out there branding them cattle. I'll meet with the crew leaders at noon. Any questions?" and when there were none, "Let's get moving. We're burning daylight."
As the men moved to get their horses and be on their way, Joe stood his ground, making the men go around him, watching each and every man as best he could until finally the only men left in the yard were Connors and Charlie.

"I want my pay," Connors snapped.

"In the house, then, Mister Connors." Joe replied, the 'mister' still dripping with sarcastic venom.

Once inside the house, Joe moved to his father's study and unlocked the safe. He pulled out the payroll ledger and the cash box while Connors stood seething in front of the desk.

"I been here since the first of the month. I deserve a full month's wages."

Checking the ledger in front of him, Joe found Connors name down on the date of the fourth. Beside his name was an X.

"That your mark?" Joe asked, pointing to the mark and when Connors said yes, "You signed on the fourth. That's twenty days ago. That ain't a month's pay. That's twenty dollars." And he tossed a double eagle coin at him. "Now get your gear and get out of my sight, Mister Connors."

Connors seemed to weigh out his options as he stood there and finally turned away, headed for the door. "I ain't gonna waste my time beatin' the crap out of a boy for a few miserable dollars," he flung over his shoulder.

Joe waited until he heard the door slam shut behind Connors before he sat down heavily behind the desk. With no one there watching, he let the scared young man show through and buried his head in his arms on his father's desk. He let the fears and anxiety roll through him, shaking him as he reviewed everything he had just done and said.

There was a soft sound beside him that finally drew him from his own personal chaos. He turned his head and saw just Hop Sing there beside him, pouring another cup of coffee for him. Once finished, Hop Sing didn't leave but stood there, a small smile on his round face.

Joe sat back and picked up the full cup. "Well?" he prompted. "I know you heard what went on out there."

"Yes, Hop Sing hear clearly. Lil' Joe have good voice, full of strength and determination. Father think you do okay too."
Nearly choking, Joe sputtered "Pa heard me too?"

"Sure, Hop Sing upstairs taking Mista Ben first coffee of morning. Both hear same time. Like Hop Sing say, good strong voice. Carry well too. Father say Lil' Joe do all right as bossman."

"I'm not so sure of that, Hop Sing. Tell the truth, I was scared spitless out there." Joe admitted.

Hop Sing harrumphed just once then stuck his forefinger onto Joe's chest for emphasis. "Hop Sing know there little boy inside there still. But no let little boy out or men no have respect. No work for little boy." Got that right, Joe thought but let Hop Sing continue. "Best way is to think like Mista Adam" and Hop Sing pointed his finger at Joe's head then pointed at his chest again, "Act like Father and fight like Mista Hoss" and ended by pointing at Joe's hand on the desk.

"But Hop Sing, Hoss rarely fights unless he absolutely has to."

"That right, only fight when have to."

When Joe finally rode in late that night, he couldn't remember being more tired in his entire twenty-one years. From his early morning altercation with the cattle crew, he had spoken briefly with his father and checked in on his brothers then rode out to the sawmill for a meeting much like he had had in the yard. He made his noon meeting with the crew leaders where the branding was progressing well. He made it a point to lighten his tone with them since each one of them he knew personally and they had also been instrumental in coping with yesterday's disaster. Joe had only glanced in the direction where it had all taken place and had been relieved to see no rotting carcasses. Amos Williams, his roping crew leader, just told him it had been taken care of earlier and the saddles from the two dead horses returned to the barn. Truly gratified, he thanked Amos and headed on to the timber camp for another confrontation. Now, almost fourteen hours later, he pulled Cochise to a stop in the yard and wearily swung down from the saddle.

"I'll take care of yer horse, boss." Charlie said as he came from the shadows and took the reins from Joe.
Joe was so tired he almost had missed it, the "boss". Smiling at the grizzled old man before him, Joe told him "Thank you. I appreciate it, Charlie."

Once inside the house, he quickly stripped off his jacket, hat and gunbelt. He wasn't in the least bit surprised when Hop Sing magically appeared next to him before he could get into the living room.

"Do I get any supper?" Joe queried tentatively. He was late, way too late he figured for anything besides an earful from the cook.

"You very late. Supper long time ago. You think I have time to make dinner two times?" and Hop Sing snorted in displeasure. "You go wash up. No come my table dirty. Hop Sing maybe have dinner ready for you. Maybe."

Joe rolled his eyes and went to do as he was instructed.  Is this how Pa feels when he comes home and has Hop Sing launch into him? Can rule a damn empire of his own making but not his own house?

Once he had finished his quick supper, he trudged up the stairs, determined to stay awake long enough to talk things over with his brothers and father. When he hit the top of the stairs, he could hear Hoss snoring so he just opened the door and took a quick peek in. Hoss lay sprawled on his back, his broken left leg propped on pillows just peeking out from under the coverlet.  Guess he's okay if he can sleep like that, Joe thought and slipped the door closed.

There was light coming from under Adam's door when Joe tapped on it but then let himself in without waiting.

"Don't know why you ever bother to knock, little brother." Adam said, not even looking up from his book. He knew who it was. He had heard the horse in the yard earlier.

"Because Pa always taught us it was bad manners to open a door without knocking, that's why. How's my big brother tonight? Still mad at me?"

"Actually, Joe, I think you should be the one angry with me. After yesterday, I wouldn't blame you right now if you took a poke at me."

Joe shook his head as he plunked his body into the chair next to Adam's bed. "Naw, another one of Pa's lessons: Don't hit a man when he's down." And they both gave up a soft small chuckle.

"Well, we got us a hell of a mess, big brother. What with you and Hoss down with busted legs and Pa out with a bad shoulder and arm, you know who that leaves running things, don't ya? That errant, lazy ass, shiftless, no good baby brother of yours, that's who!"  Joe sighed deeply, aware that he had just described himself the same way he had heard himself depicted all day today from a variety of different sources.

Adam's right eyebrow climbed to a precipitous angle. "Problems today, huh?"

"Yeah, that's an understatement. But I think I got it straightened out. Pretty much."

"Joe if you need help, just ask for it. You taking over running the Ponderosa like this has got to be hard. But you don't have to handle it all yourself." Adam tried his best to be conciliatory without patronizing.

"Yeah, well it's not like you can get on a horse and ride out to take a look at the way that new lumber was coming out of the mill for old man McDermott. I had to handle that myself. I did okay, I think."

Adam smiled a tiny rare smile for his brother. "No, I guess not. But look at it this way, you know where to find us when you need us."

Chuckling to himself as he pulled to his feet, Joe leaned over and patted Adam's leg cast, pointing out "And you sure can't get away from me very fast either. Okay, I gotta go talk with Pa. I'll see you in the morning and you can fill me in on the Ophir Mine contract, okay?"

Ben had heard the soft voices coming from Adam's room. He had been dozing for a bit, waiting for Joe to return home but he had given Hop Sing strict instructions that Joseph was to come and see him immediately upon coming through the front door. Upon hearing the voices across the hall, he decided one of two things had happened. Either Joseph was in full and complete rebellion, which Ben sincerely doubted, or Hop Sing had chosen for whatever reason to "misinterpret" his instructions. Ben would have put money on the latter.

Joe gave his father's door the same treatment he had Adam's. Couldn't play favorites. "Evening Pa. How's the arm and shoulder doin'?" he asked once he stood at his father's bedside, concern on his handsome features.

At the mention of his arm and shoulder, Ben put his left hand over where the doctor had bound his right arm to his chest. "It's seen better days, son. Lots better days."

Ben was pleased when Joe ignored the chair pulled to the side of the bed and sat on the bed facing his father. He had been scrutinizing his youngest son and saw clearly the tight lines of his son's shoulders. "You have any more trouble today?" and heard Joe's derisive snort in reply.

"This morning was an easy one compared to the timber camp, Pa". Joe gave in to his impulse and stretched out on his stomach on the soft bed where his father's free hand had patted the quilt as invitation.

Ben turned his son's face just a bit to one side and saw a deepening shade there that wasn't from a shadow but a fist. "Oh, new bull of the woods now?" He couldn't keep from chuckling softly. Usually the bull of the woods meant the biggest, baddest, meanest son of a gun on a logging crew who claimed the right by sheer brute strength during a free for all. To think that Joseph, a mere feather compared to some of the men Ben had working his timber, that Joseph had taken them on and won the title was stretching one's imagination.

"Well, Pa, look at it this way: If I weren't faster on my feet than them fellas, you and Hop Sing and Adam and Hoss would be trying to figure out which piece of me went where. What's that term Adam is always using? Yeah, that's it: motivation. I had lots of motivation, Pa I just hope that I don't have to go doin' it again tomorrow."

"No Joseph, usually once is all it takes. Take your old pa for instance.." and Ben  started telling his son of his own becoming bull of the woods. As he did so, he let his free hand rest on Joe's shoulder, his thumb moving in slow circles. Ben wasn't surprised in the very least that it wasn't too far into his tale that Joseph's breathing evened out and the eyes closed in slumber. If he could have made the maneuver, Ben would have done as he did many nights when he was younger and kissed his sleeping son's forehead. But tonight, he would have to be content with just touching him.

"Hop Sing, just how am I gonna do this? I'm stretched so thin right now, you can probably read through me!" Joe forked another load of eggs into his mouth the next morning while he sat with Hop Sing in the kitchen. Hop Sing was putting together three separate trays that would eventually make their way upstairs. Turning from his duties, he picked up the large meat cleaver and brandished it at the young Cartwright.

"You silly boy. You no have to do all by self. Ask for help. Family all help one another," he counseled with a threatening swipe that widened Joe's eyes as it passed his nose.

"Okay, then, let me rephrase my question. How are we gonna do this? And that we is you and I. In case you hadn't noticed, neither of my brothers are gonna be much good out trying to run the ranch for the next little while. Best I could hope for is that Pa gets back on his feet real quick but even if he does, Doc Martin says he shouldn't be trying to move around too much cause he's gonna be off-balance. So that just leaves you and I, Hop Sing. So explain it to me." His eggs finished, he reached across the small table to snag piece of toast from one of the trays. Hop Sing smacked the reaching hand with the flat of the cleaver. Just seeing the cleaver descending towards his hand nearly gave Joe heart failure.

"Leave 'lone. Is for Father, not number three son. Okay. This what you do, little boy who no think for self. What job you hate to think 'bout? Taking care of Father's books, right?"

"Yeah you got me there. I can't write near small enough and neat enough in those damn things to make Pa happy. And with his right arm being the busted one, it's gonna be quite some time before he'll be able to take care of that. So what is your suggestion?"

"Give to Mista Adam. Take books, ink, pen, everything he need upstairs to him. Tell him he must do 'cause you got no time for such."

"Well that's nothing big, Hop Sing. Adam takes care of the books lots of time." While Hop Sing's back was turned, he managed to grab the slice of warm toast, munching on it when Hop Sing turned back around.

"Then why you not think of it? Humph! Give jobs that man like to do and he do better. Yes? Look what Father give to ungrateful, toast stealing number three son to do: work horses. Father knows number three son love horses. Number three son do good work with horses. Now, no more talk. Hop Sing much work to do with three men in house who need much more help than little boy. Take tray to Father," and launched into a tirade of Chinese as he turned back to his stove and the breakfast cooking there.

"All right, all right, Hop Sing, I will," but as Joe picked up his father's tray, he couldn't help himself and snitched another piece of toast off it. He paused at the doorway into the dining room with the tray held in one hand and his stolen booty in the other. Between bites and well out of the range of the meat cleaver, he thought of Hop Sing once again as his greatest ally. "Thanks, Hop Sing," he called back over his shoulder and continued on his way.

The only reply was an answering snort.

"Well, son. What's on your agenda for today? Another go around up at the timber camp?" Ben asked teasingly but kept his eyes on his tray before him.

"God, I hope not, Pa." Joe turned from where his father sat up in bed having his breakfast and walked to the window. Joe envied his father the view from that window. It took in the mountains, some still with snow on them even in this early summer, and if you looked down and to the right, there it was, the little sliver of bright sapphire water that lead into the greater grandeur of Lake Tahoe. To be able to greet each morning through that window and see the towering pines that had given his home its name and brand, Joe felt that his father had it all. He was beginning to realize, now just a day plus into it, that being the headman of it all was a daunting task.

"How do you do it all, Pa?" he asked, his voice so low Ben almost couldn't hear it.

Ben stopped and stared at his youngest son's back. How could he answer that question? He just "did". He tried to put himself into his son's boots and try to imagine just what the young man was going through. Perhaps Adam had been right when he said that Ben cosseted this son. Joseph was twenty-one years old. Why, when he had been not much older, he had an infant son and was making ends meet by taking any job he could find. And even as he thought that, another thought came to him. Joe was feeling the responsibility of better than a hundred men. If it were just he himself and even a child, Ben had no doubts that Joe could provide for themselves well. The skills he had learned growing up on the Ponderosa would make him a top hand on any ranch. But one of the first skills he had ever mastered was loving his family. As such, the load he had just assumed would weigh heavily on him, trying his best to show his family that he was worthy of the love and respect they gave him. Now there was a heavy responsibility on Ben: that of showing his son just how to manage it all.

"Joseph, I am going to share a secret with you. I don't 'do it all'. I have sons that I trust. I just direct here and there. May I suggest that you do the same thing?"

Joe turned to face his father and Ben was pleased to see the smile on his son's face. "That would be a little hard for me to do right now, Pa. I don't have any sons." At least, please God, that I know about. The wild thought shot through his mind but Joe would keep that unspoken.

"No, I meant the part about directing here and there. I know that many of the men are new hands but there ones out there who have been with us for sometime and can handle more responsibility at a time like this. Let them. Find out what they're good at and let them handle that part of it for you," Ben counseled and had unknowingly told Joe the same thing Hop Sing had.

Joe had come to the foot of the bed and, leaning on the foot, studied his father. Two men whose opinion he valued had told him the same thing. It had to be the right thing to do even though he almost felt it was wrong.

"Okay, I will." He picked up his father's depleted breakfast tray and headed out the door but before he got to the door he paused. "But Pa, I hope that when this is all over and done with you still have part of that secret of yours. The part about the sons you trust."

Settling back into his pillows, Ben sighed. "I will always have that." But Joseph was too far to hear those words.

After he had helped see to the needs of his family and talked with Adam for the better part of an hour concerning the new contract for the Ophir Mine, Joe headed out the door. His father had asked what he was going to do that day and he had made his mind up. Well, at least, most of it. One of things nagging him badly was the round-up and branding. By the first of the month, they were supposed to be heading cattle down to Sacramento. He didn't think they were anywhere near ready. Just how in God's name were they going to pull that off? Pa and Hop Sing both had said to direct, to find a capable man and direct him, not the whole show, just the man. That was easier said than done, Joe figured.

Still deep in thought, he pulled the barn door open, ready to start morning chores  Run the ranch but can't get your own chores done on time, he thought sourly, but then when was the last time his father did chores other than when one of them wasn't home? Time to start that directing Pa talked about.  He stepped back into the yard, looking for someone to give chores to. There was no one there. Damn. But then he heard the ring of a hammer on metal over at the small forge and headed towards the sound. There was Charlie, straightening the rod on a branding iron. Perfect.

"Morning Charlie." Joe called breezily, as though there were nothing on his mind what so ever.

"Well, morning, Joe. How's the family this morning? Heard you hollerin' and  laughin' with Hoss earlier."

"Yeah the big lunkhead wanted to get out of bed and help me today. Figure that out, will you? How was he gonna be able to help me, seeings how he couldn't even stand up without wobbling?" and Joe chuckled again, knowing the only thing that had stopped Hoss was the sound of his father's voice from just down the hall. The old hand chortled right along with Joe, then he stopped.

"You know something Joe? Those horses you and I were bustin are just about ready for the Army. Them other two young'uns can finish 'em off without much more work. That means that you ain't gonna need me out there much longer." Charlie spoke with reservation as he looked down the rod he had been repairing.

No Charlie, don't tell me you're quitting, please no….

"So I thought the best thing might be for me to help up here to the house some. I can still chop wood and take care of horses and the like. I know I'se always been out on the range working but I kind of wish sometimes I could slow down for a bit. Just a bit, mind you. I still want to be in on the drive down to Sacramento. Don't get me wrong, I'm still a wrangler. Always will be. But if you could see your way clear to let me have this little break, I'd appreciate it."

It was like the heavens had opened and shed their blessings on Joe at that moment and his smile showed the relief he felt. Clear down to his toes then back up to the top of his head.

"Fact is, I saw how late you was getting out so I went ahead and took care of the horses this morning. Hope you don't mind, Boss."

"No Charlie, not in the least. Thank you, and yeah, until we head out for Sacramento, you can do around here just whatever you think needs doin', okay?"

The morning had been a mild one but as was the fickle whim of Mother Nature during the summer in high Sierras, the temperature had climbed steadily as the breeze dropped.   As Joe Cartwright rode a tired Cochise into the yard that afternoon, he felt as though he had been riding through an oven, the heat was so oppressive. He had been out that morning with the branding crew and when the heat had begun to mount had called the work off. It would do no good to ruin horses and men just for the sake of a few cows, he thought. Leaving a small crew to watch the large herd, Joe had headed over to where a crew was putting up a new line of fence.  There he had singled out a lanky dark haired hand by the name of Trevor to be the fence crew leader. Of the dozen men, Trevor was the only one Joe even recognized but once the decision was announced, there was no dissention voiced. He left instructions for Trevor to come to the main house that night after supper so they could discuss in greater detail just what need doing. Trevor had bobbed his head in agreement then thanked Joe, calling him "Boss".

Pulling into the yard, he would have given his right arm to be any thing but boss. Between the horses just a few days ago, the spill he had taken in the melee that had gotten his family hurt and the fight the day before up to the timber camp, Joe felt there wasn't a spot on him that wasn't sore and painful. Added to it all was the fact that he hadn't slept well in what seemed like ages. Now the heat was sapping every bit of reserved he could muster.

True to his earlier word, Charlie greeted him and took the tired pinto even though Joe wanted to care for his own horse. That was one job he really thought he could handle without too much difficulty but Charlie was insistent.

"You need to take a break, Boss. I'll take care of this for ya. You go on in the house. After all, ya' got company in there."

Joe's head snapped up. "Who?" he demanded quickly, afraid he couldn't handle any more problems at the moment.
"Just Roy Coffee. He rode in about half an hour ago."

Heaving a sigh of relief, Joe felt that perhaps Roy had just come to visit his father. Please let that be all it is. Just a nice friendly little visit.

 He stopped at the pump and dunked his head just once into the tepid water. He had hoped that it would help clear his growing headache but as he stood slicking his hair back from his face, he knew it wouldn't.  Joe took the side door into the kitchen rather than the front door. He was hoping to snag something to eat and a cool drink but instead was met by an irate Hop Sing and his meat cleaver.

"You no home lunch time. Why you in kitchen now? Not time for supper yet. You go 'way. Hop Sing too busy to stop, make special meal for inconsiderate boy. Look! You now all wet. Drip all over floor. Make mess. You think I have time for this?" and to punctuate his diatribe, Hop Sing slammed the cleaver into the chopping block with a very resounding thunk.
Blinking, Joe stood and listened until Hop Sing had gotten it all out of his system. He could see a fair size chunk of roast beef that had been carved on right next to a loaf of fresh bread, waiting to be sliced. He knew that down in the springhouse, there was a thick clay pitcher of fresh milk.

"You forgot one thing, Hop Sing. You forgot to tell me that you're going to go to work at your second cousin's restaurant in San Francisco because no one in this house appreciates all that you do."
It was Hop Sing's turn to blink and he harrumphed just once, unable to think of anything to say. Joe hadn't moved a muscle, just stood looking at him, waiting.

"Well, you got your bag packed? Come on, 'cause if we leave right now, I imagine I can get you on the three o'clock stage" Joe challenged boldly. But Hop Sing just stood his ground. "Well?" Joe challenged again. Hop Sing picked up his meat cleaver and turned back to the roast.

"What else you want beside sandwich?"

Why can't I bluff at poker like that? Joe wondered as he left the kitchen with a sandwich and a glass of milk and a promise of another sandwich if he would wait in the study.

There in the living room, he was surprised to find his father dressed and sitting up, talking quietly with Roy Coffee. His father looked as worn as he felt. His arm was still bound to his chest but a shirt was pulled over his shoulders and buttoned as far as it would stretch. Joe could tell it was bothering him to sit upright, the weight pulling him forward. Both older men looked up when Joe entered the dining room and Roy greeted him warmly.

Sandwich quickly disappearing, Joe sidled up next to his father's red leather chair and sat on the arm next to him.

As much as it was a joke in the family about there being a type of mental telegraphy between the four, Ben had always felt that there just might be something to it after all. Too many times over the years he had seen the results of a messaged thought sent by him towards a far distant son. And this afternoon, it was the same. When Roy had told him the purpose of his visit, his thoughts had immediately sent a message to Joseph to return home well before dark.

"What brings you out of town on a hot day like today? Got a hankering for Pa to beat you at cribbage again?" Joe tried to easily banter but the look on the lawman's face wasn't shifting from its sternness. He let his own expression drop into a more serious one.

"One of the hands, Joe. Roy needs to take him back to town. Seems he's wanted down in Yuma, Arizona Territory," his father started to explain.

"Who is it? What did he supposedly do?" Joe asked, suddenly becoming defensive concerning his family's welfare.

"Killed a man with his bare hands. Fella name of Raleigh Connors," Roy explained and Joe's heart flip-flopped in his chest.

"He's not here, Roy. I fired him yesterday. Paid him off and sent him on his way." An icy chill spread up Joe's spine as he spoke.

"That's what your Pa tells me, Joe. Did he happen to say where he might be headed or anything of the like?" Roy questioned, his hands spreading before him.

Joe looked to the floor and shook his head 'no'. "Just that he wasn't gonna waste his time trying to get a couple of dollars he thought he was owed by beatin' the crap out of me." He felt his father physically stiffen beside him. "Guess that's a good thing, ain't it? He doesn't think I'm worth the time it would take?"

"I'm gonna take a posse out and look around for him, Joe. But I think the smart thing to do would be for you to stay right here with your pa and brothers. I know that may be hard to do right now but I still think it is for the best."

"No Roy, can't do it. We have the army representatives coming in here the middle of next week for horses and by the end of the week we have got to have 400 head of cattle ready to take to Sacramento. I can't hide in the house and do that." Joe stood and began to pace the floor nervously.  And I started to take that bastard on right out there in the yard, Joe's fear and panic screamed at him within the confines of his mind.

"You can and you will, young man!" came his father's patient voice, commanding.

Joe took a deep breath and turned to face his father and the sheriff, letting his left fist burrow into his right hand. There had been many times that he had defied his father's authority but it wasn't usually to his father's face. Most of the time it had come after the fact. Now however, he knew he couldn't do it that way.  What was it Hop Sing had said? Think like Adam, act like Pa and fight like Hoss. Guess this is where I need to think like Adam.

"Pa, I'll be careful but I am not going to hide in the house, waiting to see if this guy comes back. I won't do it. Pa, I can't do it. There is too much riding on the next few weeks. Getting that herd to Sacramento means the finances to support the ranch for the next six months. You said that yourself, Pa.  And that timber crew is still on the verge of walking off. I have to keep a presence up there Pa if we intend to get the cutting done to met the Ophir contract. Without the Ophir contract, we're looking at a pretty lean season. No, Pa, I can't run this from the house. I can't do this the same way you do because I don't have the sons you do to make sure it all goes together right. I have to do it the way you did in the beginning: from the back of a horse." Joe ended up leaning on the back of the sofa, his eyes burning bright with determination.

"Joseph, you can and you will stay in this house until this Connors is taken into custody." Ben tried again, ever protective.
Once again, Joe shook his head. "Pa, don't worry. I will be careful, very careful.  I'm taking some of Hop Sing's advice to heart to get through this." Seeing his father's quizzical expression, Joe smiled a tiny fleeting smile. "He told me to think like Adam, act like you and fight like Hoss. So far, it's worked."

Ben recognized that Joseph was right. But there was something in him that couldn't and wouldn't put his son above the needs of the ranch. He had been right in saying that the next few weeks were critical ones to the financial well-being of the family empire. And defaulting on the Ophir Mine lumber contract could have long term detrimental effects as well. Faith in the mighty Ponderosa could be weakened and other contracts lost because of that quivering of faith. But all that wouldn't matter one bit if Ben Cartwright didn't have his sons alive and healthy. Somehow Ben had to make his son understand. He shifted his weight in his chair, seeking a more emotionally as well as physically easing position.

"For once, Joe, I think you should listen to what your pa is trying to tell you to do." Roy Coffee had watched his long time friend as he searched for a way to get through to his son and knew there was only one way for this to come to an end. "This fella Connors could very well come here looking for you. And if you're out there some wheres, he might not be too happy and want to take out his frustrations on your pa and brothers. Now they ain't in any shape to protect themselves. That means you need to, boy." Roy had come to a stop in front of the pacing young man. He could almost feel the tension rolling through the young man, fighting a private battle now between protecting the family and protecting the family's way of life.
Finally Joe sighed and looked into the sheriff's eyes. "All right," he said softly, "but as soon as you have the son of a bitch behind bars, you let me know."

"I will, boy, I promise you I will."

Ben was grateful that Roy had had the common sense to see the best way through the problem. He was also thinking on what Joe had said Hop Sing had told him to do. Yes, Joe needed to think like Adam, coolly and deliberately; act like Ben, with compassion and understanding, and fight like Hoss, only when necessity became a reality. But Hop Sing had missed one thing more important than all three of those attributes: love like Joseph. For it was only the love for his family would that make him do what he needed to do.

After insisting that his father go back to bed, Joe had tried to relax some himself that late afternoon but there were too many thoughts and worries running around in his head in order for him to get any real rest.  Roy had left soon after their discussion, promising to send word as soon as possible about any developments with Raleigh Connors. There was a large size chunk of the youngest Cartwright that wanted to join the sheriff on his manhunt if only to remove the threat he now perceived to be aimed at his family. He was still struggling with how he was going to accomplish all that he felt needed doing when there was a panic-laden knocking on the front door.

When he opened the door, Joe had to catch the man who had been leaning heavily against the door. He couldn't for the life of him remember the man's name but knew he worked down at the Cartwright sawmill. The man was panting and sweating and looking beyond him, Joe saw a sorry excuse for a horse that had nearly been run into the ground.

"Mr. Cartwright," the man was gasping for air as though he were drowning in Lake Tahoe. Joe tried to get him to settle down some but the man was obviously too over wrought." Mr. Cartwright, down to the mill. The big blade. Hit something. Just shattered the blade. We got men hurt, one man dead, boss. Everything's a…" but the man couldn't continue. His knees went from under him and he went to the floor, pulling Joe to his knees beside him

"What about Pete Winwood, the foreman down there? Did he send for help? Did he send for a doctor?" Joe was gripping the man's shoulders trying to make him focus on the words he was saying, not the vision held in his own mind.
"Pete's the dead'un, sir. Right next to the blade when it went. I come here fast as I could." Joe felt the pit of his stomach drop out of his world. Looking up he saw Hop Sing standing above him, ever present meat cleaver raised as though to fend off an attack.

"Go tell Charlie I need him, please," Joe asked and Hop Sing turned and disappeared.

Joe had just gotten the man to the sofa when Charlie appeared at the open front door.
"You wanted to see me, Boss?"

"Couple of things, Charlie. I need you to get a man on a horse who knows how to get back out to the mill. I want that man into Virginia City as fast as possible for the Doc. There's been a bad accident at the mill and we've got men hurt bad. Next I need you to saddle me a horse. I need to be out there. And the last thing I want you to do…" and Joe paused, considering his options then plunged on. "Then I want you and Hop Sing to get Hoss down them stairs and on this sofa. You and this fella here I want here in the house until I get back. You got all that?"

"Consider it done," Charlie agreed and he moved with a speed Joe didn't think was still possible for the old man.
"Hop Sing, pack me up some bandages and the like. Stuff that you think I might need out there until the doc comes."
"Little Joe forget he promise father and sheriff-" Hop Sing started to protest but Joe's hand made a quick slash down and stopped him in mid sentence.

"I know what I said, Hop Sing.  Don't argue with me. Now just do as I asked. Please." And Joe's words were clipped by fear as much as by anger.

Thinking he had better warn his father, Joe slipped up the stairs to his father's room while Charlie was saddling a horse for him and Hop Sing gathering the requested medical supplies. He was intent on telling his father his plans and just going but Ben was fast asleep. Joe made a dash into Hoss' room and woke his big brother from his afternoon slumber.

"Hey, big fella, got a problem you gotta help me with." Once he saw Hoss was awake enough, he briefly outlined what had happened and told him what he was going to do: ride out to the mill and take over until help came. In the mean time, Hoss was going to take up residence downstairs. Joe conveniently left out the part about him promising his father that he would stay there at the house. And the reason why. Those were problems he could tackle later when he had more time. Right then, he didn't feel he had the time. Hoss had simply nodded his head and told his little brother to go and take care of things at the mill.

When Joe stepped out into the yard with the bulging sack of supplies Hop Sing had put together for him, he was surprised to see Charlie standing there with Sport all saddled and ready to ride.

"Don't argue with me, Boss. You're pinto's beat for the day and you are liable to need the freshest horse we got. This fella has been worryin' things somethin' awful in there for the past two days. Get him out and get some of that nervousness off him."

"Okay, but you tell Adam I got his horse, okay?" and in a hot burst of dust, the chestnut and Joe were gone.

******

Even though it was past midnight when Joe rode slowly into the yard, it looked like every light in the house was lit. The front door loomed open, spilling still more golden light onto the porch. As he stepped down off the now exhausted Sport, he had been more in hopes of finding the house dark and quiet so he could slip in, get washed up and get to bed before anyone could stop him.  Maybe I can just hide in the barn, he thought but Charlie stepped from the one of the few dark spots in the yard before Joe could even take two steps towards the barn.

"Told ya that youse gonna need the freshest horse, Boss. I"ll take care of this'n. He looks a mite tamer now."

"Yeah, but I thought I told you to stay in the house."

Charlie scratched the back of his head up under his battered old hat and squinted at the young man he now called "Boss." "Wal,  when your Pa come down for dinner and found me and Hoss and that kid from the mill and Trevor playing' checkers and the like. . .." Charlie paused and looked towards the barn, figuring for the next half-hour or so, that was going be the safest place to be in the state of Nevada. "To put it mildly, he weren't too tickled with what ya done. Understood, I think but he still weren't too happy. I weren't neither but you’re the boss, Joe, and until your pa sent me out the door, I was doin' what you told me. Now gimme that horse and you get into the house."

Joe started the long walk across the yard but once he got into enough light, decided he should go into the kitchen. He needed to clean up before his father saw him and went into a frenzy. Thankfully, the kitchen, although lit up like the rest of the house, was empty as Joe slipped into the side door.

He stripped off his bloody shirt and kicked it aside before sticking his arms into the sink half full of tepid soapy water.  Nearly hypnotized by it, Joe watched as the red swirls of blood ran from his forearms and turned the water a ghastly pink.  Raising his hands from the water he looked at them as though they weren't his, the myriad of cuts and scrapes on them, the bruise on the knuckles of his left hand now dark purple, the scraped palm of the right. He plunged his hands back into the water and began scrubbing up his forearms, removing all traces of blood from them. Joe knew he could scrub his hands and arms until the flesh fell from them and he would still see blood there. Not his, but that of the men he had tried to help at the mill. As he rubbed the sweat and blood from his face, the face of Pete Winwood entered his thoughts, the lips pulled back forever into a grimace of pain, the eyes not quite closed, the skin a waxy white. Once again that evening as it had when Joe had viewed what remained of Pete's body, Joe's stomach roiled with hot acid and threatened to explode. Now, water dripping from his own face, Joe closed his eyes to the horror but it wouldn't go away.

He had no idea how long he had stood there like that before he felt someone beside him. Joe didn't have to open his eyes to know his father was there with him.  When he opened his eyes and looked at his father, he expected to see that his father was angry with him. After all, he had made a promise and then turned around and broken it. But instead of the stern visage he anticipated, the look on his father's face was a deep concern.

Joe took the soft white towel Ben offered him and stood drying his face.

"Bad?" was Ben's one word question and Joe simply nodded in reply.

"How many?"

Joe stared into the towel for a long moment before he answered his father. "Three dead, another dozen injured, one of those probably won't make it till morning. I've shut the mill down, Pa."

"What happened? Charlie and that other young fella said the big blade hit something."

"Yeah, that's about right. But when the blade hit whatever it was, it shattered. Sent pieces of steel flying everywhere. Some of the men were hurt when they were moving some of the logs out of the way to get to other injured. They tell you one of the men killed was Pete Winwood?" Joe still hadn't looked up from the towel, so Ben reached over and took it from him.
"Yes, they did, son. Are you all right?" Ben asked softly, noting that there was blood on the towel. Laying the towel aside, he lifted Joe's chin with his only free hand. The face that looked back at him looked so awfully young, younger than the years Ben knew it had. But a closer, more probing look showed Ben the lines etched at the corners of the green eyes. He's exhausted, Ben thought, and scared.  He cupped his hand behind Joe's neck and felt the heavy brown curls across the back of his hand. It was a soothing gesture for both.

"You need some sleep, Joseph. Something to eat and then get to bed." Ben commanded but there was no tension in the words, just love.

"Pa, about my leaving this evening-" Joe started but his father's warm brown eyes stopped him.

"It's all right, son. I would have done the same thing. You did the right thing. Although Trevor and Charlie had a high old time getting your brother down those stairs. No, you did the right thing. I just wish you would have woke me up and told me about it."

"Why? You couldn't have done anything about it, Pa. And besides, when Doc Martin finds out how much you been out of bed, he's liable to tan my hide pretty good." Joe's soul had heaved a great sigh of relief that his father wasn't angry. Nevertheless, he knew that the battle he would fight later on would not be so easily won.

"Where little boy been? Hop Sing no wait suppah on little boy who not be home. Brothers, father all worried. You tell men to bring Mista Hoss down then you leave. What Hop Sing suppose to do with Mista Hoss on sofa? Now you make kitchen dirty again. Little Joe think way into house now through kitchen?" Hop Sing's loud upbraiding was followed by an equally loud string of Chinese directed at Joe's head as he and his father stood in the kitchen. Hop Sing had roughly shoved his employer to one side and stood shaking a finger under Joe's nose. Joe just stood his ground, peering down at his friend and staunchest ally within those walls.

"Would you just get the boy something to eat, Hop Sing." Ben gave the back of Hop Sing's head his best irritated scowl.
What Ben hadn't understood was that the string of what sounded to him like invective words was actually Hop Sing asking and reassuring Joe that all was right with their world and he would have him something to eat as soon as Joe left the kitchen.

By the time thin daylight was leaking through the curtains, Joe thought he had probably slept all of about five minutes. In actuality he had slept closer to six hours. It just didn't feel like it.  As he lay there, he began making a mental list of everything that needed attention and was trying to decide which of the list was important enough to try and handle himself and which ones he could delegate out.  But uncertainty was his greatest enemy. Uncertainty about what he could and couldn't do foremost.

Funny@@, he thought, when I am here in the house, I feel like a little kid, insecure and scared to do what I think I need to do. Take me outside and I know what to do. Go figure, huh? Guess all I have to do is stay out of the house! Can't do that though, not with that idiot Connors out there. Nah, he's in California by now. Or got a job in one of the mines. Okay, little boy, out of bed and get the day rolling. . . but oh this feels so good.

He heard again the words of one of the wranglers from that first ugly meeting in the yard:
"… he's one lazy son of a bitch! Won't get out of bed unless his old man drags him out!" Only this time the words were in his head.

Lazy? Put in a day like yesterday and call me lazy? People only see what they expect to see. The branding crew thinks I'm lazy cause I ain't where they can see me all the time. Same thing with the mill and loggers. And the fence crew. Oh God, I was suppose to meet with Trevor last night and go over the schedule with him. But he never said a word when I came in, just sat there playing checkers with Hoss. Guess I'll have to see about getting him back in here today. No, I've got to go meet with the families of those men killed. I have to. I'll have to arrange for their funerals. And I need to check on the men who were hurt, make sure they got everything they need. Them and their families. Then I've got to get out to the mill and see what caused all of this. And just how are you gonna do that, Joseph Cartwright, when you promised Roy Coffee and your father that you would stay home while Connors was on the loose? God, I could use some help here. I really could.

The tap on his door was so soft, Joe almost didn't hear it, so lost in his own miserable thoughts. He pulled himself upright in bed and said "Come in," afraid of what was lurking behind the door.  He was almost relieved to just see Paul Martin's gray head poke through the opening.

"Glad to see you are getting some proper rest, young man. You need it." Just hearing the tone the doctor was taking, Joe suddenly became very defensive, his usual tactic when being dealt with as a patient. "Don't go taking on like that. I won't stand for it and you know it," the doctor fussed, still standing in the doorway, glaring at the tousled young man.
Joe decided that his best weapon was silence and brought it out, arms crossed over his chest and waiting for the doctor to continue.

"How are you feeling this morning, Joe? Your father yesterday said you had had a go-around with the loggers the other day. And that business last night at the mill wasn't too pleasant either. How are you holding up?" and thinking that he was best out of reach, the doctor simply reclined against the doorway, assessing the man from afar. Yes, he looked tired and from the way he had grimaced slightly when he crossed his arms over his chest, probably feeling the effects of his activities of late. But all in all, Paul Martin decided that Joe was probably right when he gave his standard response of "Fine."

"For once, I am not going to argue with you, Joe. But I am going to ask one thing of you: keep your father resting more than he has been."

Joe threw his hands into the air. Knew I was gonna get blasted with that but how am I…?  He started to laugh then, realizing this was the same sort of battle waged between himself and his father when Joe was the one wanting to get up and go when Doc said not to. "I'll do what I can, Doc, but he is a stubborn man, you know." Then quicksilver fast, Joe sobered, remembering that Doc Martin had been out to the mill the night before as well. "That other man…?" was as far as he got when the doctor simply held up a hand to stop Joe's query.

"Didn't make it," he finished Joe's question and glanced away for a moment, composing himself before he went on. "He died about an hour after getting him back to town. Too much blood loss. His wife did get to spend a little while with him, though. The other men who were hurt, well, I intend to check on them as soon as I'm finished here. Heard you had Hoss up and around yesterday."

"Am I gonna get in trouble for that, too?"

"No, you're in enough trouble with Hop Sing for not coming down for breakfast that I couldn't load that on you too." The doctor straightened up, looking down the hallway. "Well, I need to check on patients who really need me…"

Hop Sing had just poured Joe another cup of coffee when they both heard the sound of horses pulling up in the yard. Since it was usually Joe's job to answer the door, he automatically started to rise from the table. Hop Sing pushed him back into his chair with the one word command "Eat" and went to the door.

Not another problem, please Lord. I don't think I could handle another one. Let this just be someone looking for directions or something Joe thought, half sick with dread. Then he heard the sheriff greeting Hop Sing, asking for Joe and a cup of coffee, in that order. As Roy came around the corner into the dining area, Joe started to rise from his place at the side of the table. Roy waved him back down and sat in the place Adam usually sat.

"Hope you got good news about Connors, Sheriff." Joe raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"'Fraid not, Little Joe. I was kind of hoping that you could see your way clear in letting me and the search party rest up a bit here this morning. Our horses are shot and the men are beat as well."