Home for Supper

By Virginia City Gal

Rating: PG for psychological themes

"Is it time yet? Are you ready?"

Little Joe Cartwright fidgeted as he waited for his father to finish breakfast. The two had planned a day of hunting and fishing together, and Joe was anxious to get underway. Hoss and Adam exchanged amused glances at Little Joe's nagging.

Ben smiled at his youngest son's excitement and took a last swallow of coffee. He knew it had been too long since he had given Joe his undivided attention and was looking forward to the day, probably even more than Joe.

"OK, son. Let's saddle the horses. Hop Sing, we'll be back in time for supper."

"You bring fresh meat, fish?" Hop Sing asked hopefully. He was a creative cook and gardener, but had exhausted his culinary repertoire with squirrels and rabbits. He had high expectations for the day's outing.

"We'll certainly do our best not to come home empty-handed, won't we, Joseph?"

"Sure thing, Pa! I'll bet we get ourselves a deer, and some trout, and maybe some quail!"

"You sure got big plans there, little brother," said Hoss. "How are you plannin' to get all that back here in one trip?"

"Huh! You just wait and see! I'll bet me and Pa'll hunt up a whole bunch of stuff!"

Adam smiled and shook his head. It was good to see Little Joe so enthusiastic. It had been a hard year for all of them with the deaths of Little Joe's mother and their close friend Carlos. Terrible as the losses were for the family, it seemed as if Joe, as the youngest, was the barometer. If Joe was moody or blue, everyone worried about him. If he was sunny and happy, everyone felt better.

"Adam and Hoss, you have your chores. When you finish them, you can have the day to yourselves, but be back in time for supper, please."

"All right, Pa," said Adam.

"OK, Pa," from Hoss.

"I'll help you with the horses." Adam headed for the barn.

Ben and Little Joe rode out together across the pasture and up to the ridgeline overlooking the lake. Of all the riches the Ponderosa offered to its owner, this view was the most precious. Ben never got enough of it, and loved knowing it was his. More importantly, he loved knowing it would be there for his sons one day.

"Why are we just sittin' here, lookin' at the lake? Aren't we going fishin'?"

Ben chuckled to himself, tugged his hat low so Joe could not see his amusement. There would be no time for contemplation today, that was clear.

"Is that what you would like to do first? Catch some fish?"

"Yeah! Fishin'!"

"Sounds good to me." He turned his horse toward the trail that led to his favorite trout stream. Little Joe formed up beside him.

"Do you think we'll catch some big ones?"

"That's always partly up to the fish, son."

"Will you help me bait the line? I ain't so good at that yet."

"Joseph, please don't say `ain't. Of course I'll help you. That's something that will be true as long as I live, son. I'll always be ready to help you."

"Aw, I know that, Pa." Little Joe beamed with pleasure at his father's words and the two continued down the trail that led to the stream. It was a beautiful summer day in the Sierras. A gentle breeze brought the scent of pine from the mountain slopes. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with cottony white clouds.

The trail narrowed as it wound through a rocky ravine. Steep rock walls rose on either side of them, and scrub pine and chaparral clung to the hillsides. Ben and Joe proceeded single file, Ben in the lead. They picked their way downhill toward the stream, going carefully, lest a horse stumble and come up lame. Soon the land flattened, the trail widened and they were in a grassy meadow near the stream.

Tethering the horses loosely so they could crop the grass and drink from the stream, father and son took their fishing poles to the bank. They chose a spot where dappled sun shone through the trees and where deep pools formed around rocks in the streambed. Side by side, they each cast their lines and made themselves comfortable, their backs against a tree trunk, and waited for the trout to come to them.

"Sure beats chores, don't it, Pa?"

"Doesn't it, and yes, Son, it sure does," agreed Ben with a smile. "Mind your line, now, I think you've got a bite." There was a fair-sized brook trout at the end of Joe's fishing line. After a brief but intense struggle, and with some unobtrusive assistance from his father, Joe landed the fish.

"Wow, he's a big one! Won't Hop Sing be happy to see him? I'll bet he'll fill the whole fryin' pan!"

Keeping his expression carefully composed, Ben agreed that this was indeed a fine fish, but that perhaps a few more were required to keep him company. They fished all morning, catching a few fish, and losing a few, but mostly they laughed and joked with each other about the tactics and techniques of convincing a fish to voluntarily offer himself up to your hook and line.

When the sun was high, they laid their fishing poles aside and ate the lunch of bread and cheese Hop Sing had packed for them. They left their string of fish lying in the cool water of the mountain stream to keep them fresh. It had been a long time since Ben had felt this relaxed and lazy. He gave himself to the rhythm of the day and leaned back against the tree once more, tilting his hat over his eyes.

Joe, attuned to his father's mood, sat down beside him and rested his back against his father's side and nestled his head in the crook of Ben's shoulder. Ben put his arm around his youngest, and breathed a deep, contented sigh.

"Look, Pa, there's a cloud up there that looks like a buffalo."

"Which one?"

"Through the branch straight over our heads and then to the right a little."

"Yes, I see it. Look to the left from that. Does that look like a rabbit? His ears are straight up."

"There's one that looks like a puppy!"

Ben looked down at the top of Joe's head at that one, shaking his head slightly. "A puppy, eh? Not sure I can see a puppy, son."

Joe squirmed around and met his father's amused eyes with his round, brown hopeful ones. "No, huh?" Ben kept his mouth from twitching, raised an eyebrow and said, "No."

Joe sighed, returned to his original position and muttered, "Sure looks like a puppy to me," and subsided into comfortable silence for a moment or two.

"Are we goin' huntin', Pa?"

"It's your day, son. I'd be glad to hunt with you."

"We caught a lot of fish, more than enough for supper and then some. We don't really need to go hunting today, do we?"

"I thought you wanted to do both."

"Well, it's OK if we don't."

"It's fine with me, son, but one of these days you'll have the responsibility of supplying the family with meat. We all have to do what we can to keep food on the table. Fish and small game are fine for day to day, but a deer or an elk will feed a family for a long time. It's protection from starvation during the winter to lay in a supply of meat. You know that." Ben said this in a quiet tone, knowing his softhearted son was still a long way from being able to take the life of a larger animal.

"Yes, Pa," Joe said softly, "but it doesn't feel like that kind of a day today. It feels more"- Joe searched for a word – "more quiet-like than that."

"It's the kind of a day to pretend it took you all day to catch a dozen fish and you just never got around to doing anything else. Is that about right?"

Joe laughed and snuggled tighter against his father. "Yup. That's right."

They were quiet for a minute or two.

"What was that, Joe?" Joe had spoken so softly Ben could not make out the words.

Joe's voice was a soft whisper. "I said, `Do you miss Ma?'"

"Yes, Joe, I miss her. I think about her all the time."

"Me too." Joe gazed at the sunlight dancing on the stream.

"She's still with me in many ways. For instance, when I look at you, I see her."

"Huh?" Joe wrinkled his brow.

"That's something very special about children. You'll understand someday when you have your own."

"You mean I look like Ma?"

"You do a bit, but it's more than that."

Turning to see his father's face, Joe knitted his brow, his face a question mark.

"Children reflect the face and voice and mannerisms of their parents. It's more than having the same features or coloring. There are many ways to resemble a father or a mother - or a brother, for that matter."

Joe was still mystified.

"I've seen an expression on your face that is the same as your mother's when she was concentrating on a book or a recipe."

"Honest?"

Ben nodded. "She's part of you, Joe, just as I am."

"You don't mean I act like a girl, do ya?" Joe worried.

Ben's laugh was deep and rich. "No, of course not. You are your own self. But there are parts of you that come from her, and parts that come from me. It's the same with your brothers. When I look at you or Hoss or Adam, I see you and who you are, but I always see your mothers too."

"That must be really sad for you."

"Not at all, son. Not ever. It's a very wonderful gift to see the women I loved in my sons."

Nodding, Joe returned to the crook of his father's shoulder. Ben laid his cheek against Joe's chestnut hair and gave him a squeeze.

"How are you feeling about missing her?"

"It's OK when I'm busy doin' stuff, like chores and ridin' Paint and things like that. It's when it's quiet that I miss her. At night, or like now, just sittin' here."

"Would you rather go for a walk or a ride, then?"

"No. I like sittin' here with you. It just makes me think about her, that's all."

"I understand."

Joe was quiet then, and in a few minutes he had dozed off. Feeling comfortable and sleepy himself, Ben let himself drift into a half-waking state where he could hear the stream chuckling brightly over the rocks and feel the sun's warmth.

His reverie was broken by the sharp snap of a twig, followed by scuffling sounds and a splash. He came alert instantly and looked around. There at the stream's edge, two bear cubs were tussling over Ben and Joe's cache of fish.

A sickening fear flooded through Ben. Putting his hand over Joe's mouth to stifle a startled outburst, he shook Joe awake. Locking eyes with his son, he pointed to the cubs and put a finger to his lips to signal silence. More than anything, Ben wanted to get to the horses and get away from the area quickly. He motioned for Joe to be silent and move to the horses, but Joe had no sense of his father's urgency.

"Hey!" he sputtered, "They'll get all the fish!" Joe actually managed to take a step in the cubs' direction before Ben lifted him from the ground and threw him several steps in the opposite direction.

One of the cubs squealed in fright.

"Get to the horses! Now!" The authority in his father's voice beginning to get through to him, Joe turned toward the horses just as the mother bear broke cover on the far side of the stream.

Father and son froze for an instant. "Joe, keep moving toward the horses, but go steady. Don't run."

"Yes, Pa."

"When you get there, mount up and ride up the trail. Don't stop or look back. Just keep going. Do you understand?" Ben spoke in a low-pitched calm voice, hoping against hope the mother bear would hold off her attack long enough for them to get away.

"What about you? What are you going to do?"

"I'm right behind you. I just want to know where she is. Go, son!"

They moved steadily away from the cubs and the mother bear who was swaying on all four legs on the opposite bank, uncertain whether to press her attack. Just then, one of the cubs slipped on a mossy stone and fell on his backside in the water. Startled, he squalled for his mother. She crossed the stream in two quick bounds and headed straight for the larger two-legged creature endangering her offspring.

Ben threw one glance in Joe's direction, saw that he was almost safely to the horses, and turned to face the bear, determined to give Joe his chance to get away. The she-bear stood on her hind legs, closing the distance between them, roaring in fury at the danger to her cubs.

"PA!" Joe cried, seeing his father backing away slowly from the advancing bear.

The mother bear turned toward this new foe, but Ben put himself between Joe and the bear.

"Get out of here, Joseph! Do as I say!"

Suddenly the bear made her move. One swat from a powerful paw caught Ben across the chest, opening four parallel wounds. Wrapping the six-foot man in her forearms, the bear began to squeeze.

Joe was at the horses. They were aware of the animal now, pulling at their reins, sidestepping and neighing nervously. Joe was in a panic, helplessly watching the terrible slow-motion ballet between his father and the bear. Looking wildly around him for some way to help, he saw his father's horse bucking and rearing as much as its tether would allow, and on his father's saddle was the rifle in its scabbard

Time stopped. Without knowing how, he found himself standing near the struggle sighting along his rifle barrel. Little Joe aimed and held his breath to steady himself. Hit the bear, not Pa. Hit the bear, not Pa. He pulled the trigger.

Ben could feel his ribs yielding to the bear's immense strength. The world was going gray when the bear suddenly released its hold on him.

The crack of the rifle shot reverberated off the rocks and amplified itself until it seemed to Joe the sound would last forever.

The bear fell backward and lay there, motionless. Ben fell with her.

Joe shook himself and knelt beside his father, dropping the rifle.

"Pa! Pa! Are you hurt bad? Pa?"

Ben was fighting to hold onto consciousness. He was not sure the bear was dead. For his own sake, but more for Joe's, they had to make sure. He took a deep breath and struggled to speak to his frightened son. "Joe, listen to me," he gasped. "Reload the rifle. Shoot it again." He barely got the words out through lips that were numbing from shock. "Shoot her in the head. Make sure she's dead."

"I did shoot it in the head, Pa. I knew I only had one chance." But Ben did not hear him. He had passed out from the shock and pain.

Little Joe knew he had to help his father and quickly. He struggled to pull his father off the dead bear's carcass. It took some minutes and all his strength to push, and pull and drag Pa away from the bear. Only then was he able to see the wounds that had been inflicted. Pa's chest was sliced from left to right by four parallel knifelike cuts. His breathing was labored and shallow. There was a thin trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.

"Pa! Pa! Please wake up, Pa!" No response.

Joe knelt on the ground beside his unconscious father. Shock was setting in and Joe began to shiver uncontrollably. He was paralyzed by the enormity of his situation. Pa was severely injured. His father's wounds were bleeding heavily. He didn't know what to do first. And he was deeply frightened. He was some distance from the house. It would take him at least half an hour to get there.

Ben moaned and opened his eyes. "Pa! Can you hear me, Pa?"

Ben nodded his head weakly and looked at his son through pain-filled eyes. "Are you all right, son? Did the bear hurt you?"

"No, Pa. I'm OK. But you're hurt bad. What should I do? I don't know what to do. There's nothin' here to help you with, and I don't know how to get you home."

Ben grimaced in pain and tried to stay awake. "You have to get your brothers, Joseph, and Hop Sing." Ben took a ragged breath. "You have to go and get them. Now. There's nothing else to do." Ben gritted his teeth as a jolt of pain shot through his chest. "I can't move, I can't sit a horse and you can't carry me. So go, son. Please go." Ben sighed and closed his eyes.

"Pa! Pa! I don't want to leave! Pa, wake up!" Joe took off his jacket and placed it under his father's head. Then he took off his shirt and ripped it into strips. Some he dipped in the stream to use to clean the blood away. The rest he used to put awkward bandages on the chest wounds. He managed to remove Pa's jacket and set it aside. He tore his father's shirt apart piece by piece and used it for more bandages. Then he placed the jacket over Pa to keep him warm. He retrieved a canteen, filled it and placed it next to his father's side. He put a wet cloth on Pa's forehead.

He tried once more to wake his father. "Pa, it's me, Little Joe. Can you hear me? Please, Pa. Please wake up."

Joe knew he had to leave. He had to get help quickly. There was nothing to do but go as fast as he could to get his brothers and Hop Sing. Even so, it was pure torture to leave his father alone, unconscious and helpless. Joe touched his father's cheek and said, "I'm goin' for help now, Pa. I'll be back as quick as I can. Please don't die. Please don't die."

"Hoss, did you get those harness straps untangled?"

"Yep. Oiled `em, too."

"I thought one of them looked like it needed repairing." Adam took the ranch chores seriously.

"I looked over every inch. There's still plenty of wear in `em."

"Where do you suppose Pa and Little Joe headed?"

"Little Joe was sure excited this mornin'. I thought he was gonna tie hisself in a knot waitin' for Pa to finish his coffee."

"Want to help me muck out the stalls? That will just about finish us up here."

"Sure thing, big brother."

Adam grinned. "You're right about Little Joe. He was just full of himself today."

"I'll pull down some fresh hay." Hoss chuckled to himself as he climbed the ladder to the hayloft.

They worked together to finish up the barn chores and walked to the well for a cool drink and to rinse off the worst of the morning's dirt and sweat. Hop Sing saw them heading across the yard and appeared with mugs of hot coffee.

"Finish work?"

"Yes, and it's still early afternoon." Adam dried his hands.

"Father say you can have day off. What will you do?" asked Hop Sing.

"Well, I ordered a book from Mr. Orowitz. I thought I might head into Eagle Station, see if it's arrived yet. Do you need anything from Orowitz' store, Hop Sing?"

"I will make list."

"I thought I might head over to the Greene place. Tess said they were getting a new mare. I'd like to look her over." Hoss offered.

"You mean the mare, of course." Adam said.

Hoss blushed and half-turned, rubbing his hand on his thigh.

Adam laughed and slapped his brother's shoulder.

That was the last carefree moment any of them would have for quite a while. Hop Sing was the first to notice the small figure coming across the meadow toward the ranch house at a full gallop.

"Someone on horseback, running very hard, come this way." Hop Sing pointed toward the approaching horse and rider.

They all stared for a moment, but Adam reacted first, a sudden feeling of dread washing over him. "It's Joe. Why is he…." Adam threw his coffee cup to the ground and headed toward Joe at a dead run, Hoss and Hop Sing on his heels.

His breath coming in ragged sobs, his face dirty and tear-streaked, Little Joe fell from the saddle into his eldest brother's outstretched arms.

"Pa!..gotta help him…hurry!" Joe's incoherence was part panic and part exhaustion. He took in great gulps of air and started again. "Bear…lotta blood…had to leave him…."

"Joe, I want you to stop, get your breath and then tell us from the beginning. What is wrong? Where is Pa? Is he hurt?" Adam was shaking Little Joe without realizing it, a knot in his stomach beginning to tighten.

"Adam, let go. You're holding him too hard." Hoss pried Adam's
fingers away from Joe's thin arms and Joe would have fallen if Hoss
hadn't caught him. "Take a deep breath, little brother. Tell us one thing at a time."

"We've gotta GO!…Pa is HURT!…. It was a bear…she hurt Pa…He's lyin' out there….I had to leave him ALONE!" Joe sobbed out the words, and even before he finished Adam turned and ran toward the wagon, shouting instructions to Hop Sing and Hoss.

"Hop Sing, get what you need to tend to Pa. Hoss, get all the blankets you can find. I'll make room in the wagon and hitch the horses." They hurried to do his bidding.

"Little Joe, you sit right here and catch your breath." He swung Joe up to the wagon seat. "Now, where is Pa? How far away is he? How long will it take to get to him?"

"A coupla miles, I guess….remember the trout stream…in the valley…near the lake? We were there…when it happened. I rode as fast as I could…it took the longest time…to get back here. But, Adam,…the trail to the stream…too narrow for the wagon. We can get most of the way there…not all the way."

Adam considered this and when Hoss reappeared he said, "Hop Sing and I will take two horses and some blankets and ride ahead. You and Joe bring the wagon as far as you can. We'll bring Pa to you."

"NO!" yelled Joe. "I left him all alone! I promised I'd come back! I have to go back! He might die!"

"Joe, I understand how you feel…"

"No you don't! You weren't there! I'm going back with you!" Little Joe was ferocious in his insistence and Adam knew there was little point in insisting Joe remain with the wagon.

"All right, all right, you ride with me, then." Joe hurried to mount Paint.

Adam turned to his brother. "Hoss, do you know where to bring the wagon?"

"To the top of the trail near the lake that runs down to the trout stream. I'll make a bed in the wagon and have it all ready for you. Adam, do you think it's bad?"

"If Pa had a run-in with a bear, he is likely to be hurt pretty seriously."

"Yeah, well, it ain't as if Joe would lie about somethin' like this, but he does get excited sometimes."

"Little Joe is too scared to be making this up. We need to get out there."

Hop Sing appeared from the house with his medicine box and a small sack. They made quick work of readying the team and the saddle horses and set off to find their father.

Ben Cartwright heard a low murmur, too low to recognize the sound. He was not aware of the ground beneath him, not aware of the midday sun beating down on him. The murmuring became annoying, like a buzzing insect on a hot night. He did not want to acknowledge the noise, did not want to open his eyes, was reluctant to leave his dark, quiet place. The sounds separated into three different strands, two in a lower register, one pitched higher. They became incessant and irresistible. He was aware of gentle pressure on his forehead and neck, could feel a light touch on his arm. Then in a sudden rush the furious pain in his chest returned, taking his breath, making him gasp. His exhale became a low moan.

"I think he's coming to, Hop Sing. He moved a little just then." Adam stroked his father's forehead and smoothed his hair with a trembling hand.

"Better if he not awake, Adam. Much pain if he is awake." Hop Sing was working quickly and efficiently to make Ben ready to travel. He had already removed the bloody rags Joe had used as bandages. Shaking his head at the deep gashes in Ben's chest, he began to clean the wounds as best he could. Then he would apply fresh bandages. This would have to do until they were able to get back to the house.

"But I want him to know we're here and he's not alone," said Little Joe, his eyes on his father's ashen face, his small hands holding his father's hand.

Ben groaned and opened his eyes, seeing only blurred, shadowy figures leaning over him. The noises that had awakened him rose to a new level, the pressure on his forehead intensified, and one of his hands was restrained. Shuddering waves of pain ebbed and flowed through him. He struggled to focus, trying to understand what was happening to him. He must be in danger, the pain was so intense. He tried to move away from the shadows and the noise, to get back to the dark, quiet place where he was safe.

"Lie still, Pa, don't try to move." Adam gently held his father's head and spoke quietly to him. Joe cradled Ben's arm and touched his shoulder.

"It's OK now, Pa. We're here. We're takin' care of ya. Tell him, Hop Sing." Large tears filled Joe's eyes and spilled onto Ben's hand. "Don't he hear us? Why can't he hear us?"

"Hush, Little Joe. Let him rest. It will not be good to awaken him now. It will be very hard to get him to the wagon. Wounds very deep and I can not close them here. Need to make bleeding stop. Better if he is quiet." Hop Sing looked at Adam and gave a quick shake to his head. Adam returned his look, reached to give Joe's cheek a quick brush.

"We can't pick him up and carry him, can we. And we can't put him on a horse." It was a statement. "His chest is laid open, and if we carry him in our arms, the wounds will open up more, won't they?" Adam looked to Hop Sing for confirmation. Hop Sing nodded agreement. Adam tried to think. He looked around at the lay of the land. "We'll have to make a travois. We'll need blankets from the wagon. And an ax or a hatchet. There ought to be one under the wagon seat in the toolbox."

He looked at his little brother, knowing he had already given full measure this terrible day. "Little Joe?"

Joe raised his head.

"I know you want to just stay with Pa and that's all that matters. That's how I feel. But I need you to go get Hoss and bring him back here with some blankets and the ax. We need to cut a couple of saplings and rig a travois to carry Pa to the wagon."

Joe set his jaw and tightened his lips into a straight line. Adam held up a hand to stop his protest. "I know, I know – you want to know why you should go instead of me."

"Right!"

"Because if Pa starts to move or struggle, I'm bigger and stronger and I can keep him from hurting himself. That's the only reason, Joe. It's important for you to go. It's what Pa needs most. Please."

Joe saw the logic of Adam's reasoning. Once again, he reluctantly let go of his father's hand and got to his feet. Suddenly he knelt and kissed his father's brow. Adam reached for him to give him a reassuring hug, but Joe was up, in the saddle and riding up the trail, brushing tears from his eyes as he went.

Adam turned to Hop Sing. "What can you do for him? Can you save him?" Adam's voice caught at this last.

"I do not know," Hop Sing answered without pausing from his work. "We will take one thing at a time. First we will get him home."

Ben rose toward consciousness again, the sounds beginning to seem familiar somehow. As before, with the sounds came the pain – great searing strikes of pain hitting him over and over again until he began to scream at the hurt.

"Shhh, Pa. Try to rest." Adam tried to soothe his father. Ben was weakly moving his head from side to side, his breathing coming in shallow gasping moans. "I'm here, Pa. I'm right here. Hop Sing, too. We'll take care of you. Shhh, shhh. Please be still."

Ben could make out a face near his. He tried very hard to bring it into focus. He succeeded, just for a moment, and was surprised to see Elizabeth's beautiful blue eyes searching his face. Then, in a flicker of recognition, he knew it was Adam. He called Adam by name and turned his head toward the gentle curve of Adam's hand on his cheek. Then he slipped quietly into his dark, quiet place again.

"What, Pa? What did you say?" Adam looked straight into Ben's eyes and saw a momentary awareness there. Then Ben's head relaxed completely into Adam's hand and he was gone from them again. Adam closed his eyes and clenched his jaw to hold himself together and continued his gentle effort to comfort his father – his hand moved from forehead to smoothing hair, to cheek and neck, thumb gently rubbing chin, back to forehead…….

"He was there for a minute, Hop Sing. He knew me."

"Yes, Adam." Hop Sing began to put clean bandages over Ben's damaged chest. His neat, precise movements, his quiet demeanor masked a deep fear that he was performing an act of complete futility.

Hoss worked steadily, trimming the straight pine saplings into clean poles that would form the long sides of the triangular travois. He did not speak and did not waste time or motion. The sight of his father, bloody and pale, helpless, had shocked him beyond anything in his young life, more even than Marie's violent death, more than watching Carlos die in front of him. Those deaths had come brutally but quickly. This was a far different thing, knowing the injury was terrible and that the outcome could not be predicted. The thought of losing his strong, determined father, the compass of his life, would not bear considering, at least not yet. He kept his head down, his thoughts on his work, his strong hands accomplishing their tasks.

Soon he had the saplings ready and was trimming the crosspieces – one longer to brace the foot of the travois, a shorter one to support the middle. He used leather straps and reins scavenged from the saddle horses to bind the poles together and strap a blanket to the triangular litter.

Adam began to organize the process.

"We just need the saddle on Buck. We can lash the narrow end of the travois to it."

When this was done and the horse and litter were at Ben's side, together they lifted him with great gentleness onto the conveyance.

"Hoss, you and I will each take a pole. We'll make better time that way, and the trip will be easier for Pa than if we just let Buck drag it."

Hoss nodded and silently prepared to take up the load.

"Joe, you lead Buck. We'll keep a steady walking pace up to the wagon. Hop Sing, will you lead the other horses? Here's Pa's rifle, don't forget that."

They hastened to do Adam's bidding. The sun was well past its zenith as they began the trek to the wagon.

Although it probably took no more than fifteen minutes, it seemed as if hours had passed before the wagon came into view. As quickly as they could, they placed their father in the wagon bed. Hoss took the reins. Adam tied the saddle horses to the wagon and climbed up beside him. Joe held his father's head in his lap and Hop Sing sat next to him to keep a watchful eye on Ben.

"It's gonna be OK now, isn't it? I mean, we're goin' home, and we'll get him to bed and he'll get better, right? We're all here and takin' care of him. He'll be OK. Will he be OK, Hop Sing?" Hop Sing looked kindly at Little Joe and rubbed his shoulder.

"Adam?" Adam just looked at his boots, his lips pressed into a straight, tense line, and did not answer Joe.

"Hoss?" Hoss kept his eyes on the team and concentrated on keeping the wagon on the smoothest parts of the trail. His breathing was unsteady, his lips trembled, and he did not speak.

Joe began to feel overwhelmed by the gravity of their situation and wished for his father's strong arms to comfort him. He thought of their cloud pictures game and the quiet talk. Those sun-dappled hours would remain with him always as one of his most precious memories. At this moment he began to realize that his life was never going to be the same again. He began to ponder the possibility that his father had held him for the last time. He did not speak again during the long trip home.

The eastern sky was turning from midnight blue to sapphire as Little Joe walked into his father's bedroom for the hundredth time that night. He shook Adam's shoulder lightly. Adam woke with a start. He had fallen asleep in Ben's armchair, finally succumbing for a few minutes to the exhaustion they were all feeling.

"Guess I dozed off there." Adam scrubbed his face with his hands.

Ben lay still and pale under the quilt.

Adam reached over and placed his palm on Pa's forehead and neck. Hop Sing's last comment as Adam took over the bedside watch from him was to check for fever, but Pa's forehead was damp and cool. Adam turned to Joe, who had been uncharacteristically quiet and preoccupied.

"Well, little brother, it will be morning soon. How are you doing?"

"I'm OK. Why?"

"I just was thinking you must be about ready to fall down from being so tired. It's been almost twenty-four hours since you got up."

"Don't treat me like a baby."

"I'm not! C'mon, Joe, I just fell asleep in this chair myself. It's been a very long day and night for everyone."

Adam reached to pull Joe into his lap, but Joe shook him off. Adam sighed and gave up for the moment. He was perplexed by Joe's behavior. Worry, fear, tears, questions – they were all going through a crazy mix of emotions. Joe, though, was in some other state of mind, one that Adam did not recognize.

"Hop Sing says for you to come have breakfast."

Adam didn't feel much like eating, but they had not had supper the previous night and he knew it was illogical not to eat. Reluctantly he rose to his feet.

"Are you going to stay with Pa for a few minutes for me?"

Joe did not reply, but climbed into the chair with his feet curled under him. He leaned both elbows on one chair arm and rested his chin in his hands. Twisting his mouth to one side in an expression of deep thought, he gazed at the motionless figure in the bed. Adam started to speak, but settled for resting his hand lightly on Joe's brown hair before leaving the room.

Hoss was sitting at the table poking at his plate of eggs and potatoes. He glanced up at Adam and raised his eyebrows inquiringly. Adam shook his head and sat down opposite him. Hop Sing put a plate of food in front of him and poured a cup of coffee.

"Why don't he wake up?" Hoss dropped his fork and put his forehead in his hands.

"Eat eggs while they are hot. Not good when cold. Father will wake up when he wakes up." Hop Sing poured coffee for himself and sat down with Adam and Hoss.

"It's been a long time, Hop Sing. What do you think is going on? He was moving a bit and at least making some sounds while you were stitching him." Adam took a bite of egg and was surprised by how good it tasted.

"That was bad. I never want to see nothin' like that again. Havin' to hold him still while you …." Hoss shuddered at the memory. Adam winced and nodded agreement.

"Father lose a lot of blood, much pain, very weak. Take long time to stitch cuts. Very good sign he live through night. Bleeding stop. All things done for him that can be done. Must wait and see."

"If we had gotten to him sooner…" Adam fretted.

"Little Joe did good thing. Rinsed wounds with water then bandage and cover father. I could do little more. Looked for dirt in wounds is all. Better bandages. Can not change that bear attack him."

"I feel helpless, Hop Sing. I keep asking myself what Pa would be doing. He always seems to know the right thing to do."

"You will know right thing," Hop Sing assured him.

"It's not just Pa. I'm worried about Little Joe. He won't talk to me. Has he talked to you, Hoss?"

"Nope. Just walks around with his hands in his pockets, lookin' out the window and makin' faces to himself. Goes in and out of Pa's room all the time but don't stay. I don't know what's goin' on with him."

"He was the one who remembered we hadn't stabled the horses last night. I've never let the animals go like that. Pa would be furious." Adam shook his head.

"Speakin' of that, guess I'll go do some chores." Hoss got up from his unfinished breakfast and went to the door. He turned and met Adam's glance.

"Don't worry, brother. I'll let you know right away. About any change at all."

Adam ate a few more bites and took a sip of coffee. "Did you get any sleep, Hop Sing?"

"A little. Slept when Hoss was sitting with father. Also go through my father's writings. Need to be sure what to do for Ben. No mistakes. Brother should be patient with Little Joe. He saw bear, saw wounds first, had to leave father. He is very young to see such things."

"That's what worries me. He should be crying and upset, asking a million questions. You know what he's like. Instead he's just, just – it's as though he isn't feeling anything. I don't know how to get through to him." Adam pushed his plate away and got up from the table. "Thanks for the breakfast. I can't eat any more. I need to get back to Pa."

Adam stepped quietly back into Pa's room. Joe was exactly where Adam had left him. Adam checked Ben for fever or any change to the wounds, then turned again to Little Joe.

"Still asleep, I see. Did he move or say anything while I was gone?"

Joe stood straight up and snapped, "Don't ya trust me to get ya if he did?"

Taken completely aback, Adam blinked and said, "I was just asking…", but he was talking to the door closing behind Little Joe's stiff-backed departure. Adam sighed and took up his post in the chair once again.

Hoss worked steadily, cleaning the stalls, putting down fresh hay, feeding and watering the horses. He got into the rhythm of it and felt comforted by the activity. He decided to clean some tack and was sitting on a bench with a bridle in his hand when tears started to flow unbidden down his cheeks. He didn't bother to wipe them away and kept working on the bridle. After a moment he realized Little Joe had come into the barn and was staring at him, his hands balled into fists at his sides, a fierce look in his eyes.

"Crybaby! You're just a crybaby! You're too big to cry!"

Hoss was astonished at this outburst and couldn't reply for a minute. He just sat openmouthed, staring at Joe. Joe made a disgusted sound in his throat, grabbed a bucket of grain and went to feed the chickens.

Hoss found him in the chicken coop a few minutes later. "What're you so mad at, little brother?"

"I ain't mad." Joe grimly threw handfuls of grain at the chickens.

"Yes, you are. You ain't never said nothin' like that to me before."

"Okay, then I am mad. So what?"

"I was just askin', is all. Why're you mad at me?"

"Cause you were sittin' there cryin'! You're too big to cry. You're s'posed to be almost all grown up."

"Where'd you get the idea it ain't grown up to cry?"

"From Pa, that's who!"

"Pa never told me not to cry. I'm scared and worried about him is all. It don't mean nothin' that I was cryin'"

"That's not true!" Joe shouted. "Pa's always telling me to be strong and not to be a crybaby!"

"That's not what he means, Little Joe. He means don't be makin' your troubles into other folks problems, like cryin' `cause you can't stay up late or go to town alone. Stuff like that."

"You're wrong!"

They both stopped at the sound of Hop Sing's voice calling from the porch.

"You come now! Father is awake!"

Hoss and Joe flew into the house.

Ben's face was contorted in pain and his breathing was rapid. His eyes were open but unfocused. Adam held his hand and wiped his brow with a cool cloth.

"Can you hear me, Pa? It's Adam."

"What did he say?" asked Hoss.

"Nothing. He just opened his eyes. He doesn't seem to be completely awake yet."

Hop Sing had a mug of cool water in his hand. "Hoss, lift father's head. He needs water." Hoss did as he was told. Hop Sing pressed the cup to Ben's lips. Ben seemed to understand, took a sip and another, then turned his head.

"No more." Several breaths. "What…happened…"

"You were attacked by a bear, Pa. Don't you remember? Yesterday, down by the trout stream."

"…bear…Joe!…Did Joe…get hurt…?" Ben's eyes were alert now and sought Adam's face.

"No, no Pa, Joe's fine. He's right here." Adam nodded to Joe to come closer. Joe walked up to the head of the bed and leaned over his father, putting his small hand on Ben's shoulder.

"I'm OK, Pa. I'm sorry."

Pain flashed through Ben. He groaned and closed his eyes.

"Pa!" his sons said in unison.

Hop Sing had left the room and now came back with the cup again. "I have medicine from my father's books. Made from poppies. Takes pain away. Hoss, hold Father's head again."

Hoss lifted Ben's head from the pillow and once again Hop Sing pressed the mug to his lips. "Drink this. It will take away pain, let you rest. Must drink it all."

It took several minutes, but Ben was able to drink all of Hop Sing's medicine. He looked quietly at each of his sons and Hop Sing and said, "This is…serious…?"

They all nodded, Hoss took his hand, Adam wiped his forehead, Joe stood quietly next to his bed. Hop Sing checked his bandages and tucked the quilt around him again.

"You're right…Hop Sing…The medicine…working…not so much…pain. Thank you."

"Must rest now. Enough talk. Save strength."

Ben nodded slightly, closed his eyes, sighed deeply and was asleep. His sons did not move or speak for several minutes. Finally Hop Sing broke the silence.

"He will sleep for hours. It will be restful sleep. I will sit with him."

Adam walked out onto the porch, Hoss following. They sat side by side on the top step, each deep in his own thoughts.

"Pa don't look so good." Hoss said softly.

"He's strong. He has a good chance."

"He don't even know what happened." Hoss kicked idly at a stone.

"He needs rest. It's probably better for him not to remember just yet."

"He ain't outta the woods yet, Adam."

Adam nodded in weary agreement.

"Don't talk about him like that!" Joe stood behind them, fists balled, jaw clenched.

"Like what?"

"Like he's dyin' or somethin'! You can't talk about him like that!"

"Look, little brother, he's my Pa, too, and I'll worry about him if I want to." Hoss was becoming exasperated with Joe.

"Stop. This is not helping Pa or any of us, for that matter."

Adam looked Joe straight in the eye. "Joe, what's on your mind? Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"About whatever it is that's bothering you."

Joe flapped his arms and tossed his head. "There's nothin' botherin' me!

"You're not worried about Pa?"

Joe flapped again. "Course I'm worried `bout Pa! Everybody's worried `bout Pa. I'm just not bein' a baby about it, is all."

Adam shook his head. "I think there's something else eating at you."

"There is not!"

"Joe, whatever it is, it's better to talk about it. You know how Pa always says…."

"You're not the boss of me! You can't make me do anything!" Joe stomped down the steps and headed for the barn.

Adam and Hoss looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"What's that all about?" wondered Hoss.

"I keep trying to figure it out. Did you hear what he said to Pa in there?"

"When?"

"When Pa was asking if Joe was OK and Joe came and stood by him."

"No. What?"

He said, "I'm OK, Pa. I'm sorry."

"What does that mean?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

"What does he have to be sorry for?"

"I can't imagine."

"He sure is actin' peculiar."

"I'll give him some more time. Maybe he'll come around after while."

"Yeah. If he don't explode first."

Adam tried to do ranch work until midmorning. Unlike Hoss, who went about his chores without complaint, working off his anxiety in the comforting familiarity of the routine, Adam was tired and frustrated. His thoughts were scattered and would not collect themselves into logical sequences. He would start a task and not remember what he had intended to do.

Finally, he gave up trying. He put his tools away and headed for the house, pulling off his gloves as he went. He glanced around, looking for Little Joe, but there was no sign of him. Adam had not seen him since the scene on the porch in the early morning.

He stopped at the wash basin to rinse his hands and face and stepped into the quiet house. He went directly to Ben's room.

Pa looked different. His face was flushed; his skin was hot and dry to the touch. He breathed unevenly through his open mouth and moved his head restlessly on the pillow. Adam frowned and looked at Hop Sing.

"It is as I feared." Hop Sing soaked a cloth in cool water, wrung it out and laid it on Ben's forehead.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Adam asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. He didn't think he could stand to hear it.

"Father has fever. Claw wounds infected. Very bad."

"When did it start?"

"Has been coming on all morning. Getting worse all the time."

"What should we do?"

"Keep cool cloths on head and neck. I change bandages, try to clean wounds again. Not want to disturb stitches."

"Is that all? Isn't there anything else you can do?"

"Best to do one thing at a time. See if it helps. Then try something else. Otherwise, not know what treatment is working."

"But if the fever is getting worse…."

"Know it is hard to wait."

Adam rubbed his hand over his mouth and sat down. He took the cold cloth Hop Sing handed him and wiped Pa's shoulders and arms.

Hop Sing left the room and padded to the kitchen area of the great room just as Hoss came through the front door.

"How's Pa? Better?"

"Father has high fever. Not good."

Hoss's eyes widened and he swallowed hard as he went to Pa's room. He stood beside the bed with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched.

"What are we gonna do?"

Adam continued applying the cold cloths to Pa and said quietly, "We are going to trust Hop Sing. He got Pa and everyone else through the cholera. I believe in him."

"What can I do?"

"Why don't we try to get a few swallows of cool water into him. His lips are all cracked and dry. He must need water." They tried for several minutes and managed to get Ben to swallow a few sips.

Little Joe came in and stood unnoticed in the corner.

Soon Hop Sing returned with a tray. On it he had a pot of hot green tea, a jar of honey, a leafy herb that had a lemon scent, a bowl of cooled tea and more fresh bandages.

"I couldn't eat or drink a thing, Hop Sing. Thanks just the same," said Hoss. Adam looked at Hoss in amazement while Hop Sing shook his head.

"Not food for you. Medicine for father."

"Tea and honey?!"

"Tea and honey and lemon balm. It is in my father's books."

"But it's food."

"Sometimes food is medicine, sometimes medicine is food."

Hoss shook his head. "I don't get it, Hop Sing."

"You will see."

Hop Sing spooned a quantity of honey into the lukewarm tea in the bowl and stirred until the honey was dissolved. Next he removed Ben's bandages. Adam took a deep breath and closed his eyes at the sight of the swollen, red and oozing wounds. Hoss gagged and turned away. Hop Sing gently cleaned the gashes, then unrolled the fresh bandages. He applied the mixture of honey and tea to the cloth strips and rebandaged Ben's chest. He took the balm and infused it into the hot tea. He poured this tea into a mug and patiently got most of it into Ben. Then he sat back with an air of accomplishment.

Adam and Hoss looked at Hop Sing, looked at their father, at each other and back to Hop Sing.

Adam shook his head. "I have to know. How in the world does honey help an infected cut?"

"Yeah, and what's the difference whether Pa drinks water or hot tea?" Hoss demanded.

"It is in my father's teachings to use honey in solution on cuts and burns. Have never tried it, but father never wrong."

"You've never tried it?"

"You don't know if it works?" Hoss was getting irritated.

"It will work or not work. Is best thing I can think to do."

"What about the drink?"

"Drink with balm is for fever."

"Does that work?"

"It will work or not work. Now must wait and see. Keep Ben comfortable."

Hoss rotated his neck and put his hands on his hips. Adam sank back in the chair, got a sudden glint in his eye and started to chuckle.

"What's funny?" Hoss demanded.

"Nothing - " Adam was getting the giggles.

"What is wrong with you?"

"It's nothing – the thought just popped into my head that we won't need to sweeten Pa up the next time we want something…." Adam tried to stifle the laughter that was welling up in him.

"That's not funny," said Hoss, beginning to get the giggles himself. "I'll never be able to watch him put honey in his tea again, though…"

"I always knew Pa had a sweet side to his nature." Adam was convulsed now, tears running down his face.

"Flies…he'll be able to catch more flies!" Hoss guffawed and surrendered to uncontrolled laughter.

Hop Sing gave them a look, smiled and shook his head. "Boys getting very silly."

In the corner, Little Joe was white with rage. Shaking and tense, he strode up to his brothers.

"How can you laugh?!"

"Aw, it's nothin' Little Joe." Hoss was still chuckling.

"Don't be upset, Joe. We're just a little crazy with all this." Adam wiped his eyes and tried to regain his composure.

"You're makin' fun of Pa!!"

"No, Little Joe. We're letting off steam." Adam put his arm around Joe, who swatted the arm away.

"He's sick, he's gettin' worse all the time," Joe chopped the air with his hands, "and you think it's funny!"

"It ain't that it's funny, Joe. It's that – "

"I HATE YOU BOTH!" Joe screamed at the top of his voice and ran from the room.

"I'm gonna wallop him one."

"Let it go, Hoss. He's in some real trouble. We have to figure out how to help him."

"Little Joe must talk about all that happened. That is only way to find out what is wrong." Hop Sing was applying cold cloths again.

"I know that, Hop Sing. I can't force him to talk to me." Adam shook his head and wondered again how his father would handle this situation. Pa always got to the bottom of things. How did he do that?

"Where's Little Joe?" Ben wondered.

"I'll fetch him for ya, Pa." Hoss left in search of Joe.

He found him in the hayloft, looking out over the ranch at the sunrise.

"Hey, little brother."

Joe turned at the sound of Hoss' voice.

"Come on inside."

"Why? Is Pa dead?"

"No, no, no. Pa's awake. He's askin' for ya."

Joe came quietly down the ladder and went quickly to Pa's room.

Hoss had been telling the truth. There was Pa, awake and talking quietly to Adam.

"Joseph, come here, son." Pa moved his hand on the quilt. "I'm glad to see you. Are you all right?"

"Yes, Pa." Joe stood quietly next to Pa's bed, looking at his hands, not meeting anyone's eyes.

Ben wrinkled his brow in confusion at Joe's reaction.

"I know you've all had a bad scare. I'm sorry for that."

"It's so good to have you back, Pa. I didn't want to think about what might happen if…" Adam left the rest of his thought unspoken.

Hoss nodded and smiled at his father.

Joe continued to look at the floor.

Ben tried to give Joe some reassurance.

"Joe, I'll get better, but I'm going to be laid up for a while. I want you to help your brothers as much as you can." Ben smiled at Joe and reached for his hand.

"I told `em I could, but they just laughed at me!" To his father's astonishment, Joe backed away and left the room.

Ben threw a questioning look at Adam and Hoss. They both shook their heads.

"He's been like that since we got you home. I can't get to the bottom of it." Adam shook his head in frustration.

"He's been downright ornery, if you ask me." Hoss was still smarting from some of Joe's remarks.

"Little Joe have very bad time. See father attacked. Had to leave you. Had to watch while father sick. He will begin to find his way now."

"What do you mean, Hop Sing?" Ben asked.

"Little Joe lost in day of the attack. Has not found his way out yet."

"I wish I could remember it all more clearly," sighed Ben. His eyes closed for a moment.

"Time for father to rest. Let him sleep now. I will bring food later."

Adam got to his feet, leaned over and kissed his father's forehead. Hoss squeezed his hand. Ben smiled at both of them and nodded his head. He closed his eyes and was immediately asleep.

In the early afternoon, Ben awakened from a restful sleep. Hop Sing brought him soup and tea. He sent for Adam when he had finished the meal and the two of them discussed the immediate needs of the ranch. Adam had anticipated most of Ben's concerns.

"Your thinking was solid on that, Adam. I'm proud of you."

"I was just trying to put myself inside your head and see things your way, Pa."

"Think you can manage for a while without me?"

"Yes, sir. Just don't let it be too long." Adam relaxed for the first time in days.

"Now, what about Joe?"

"I can't help you there, Pa. I've never seen him like this before. Not even when Ma died."

"Send him in here, and keep everyone else out for a while. Let me talk to him."

Soon the bedroom door opened and Little Joe appeared.

"Close the door and come here, son." Little Joe did as he was told and stood quietly by Pa's bed.

"I need your help, Little Joe. I keep trying to remember what happened at the stream. Can you tell me?"

Joe shuffled his feet and hitched his shoulders. He could not look at Pa.

"Sit here, next to me. It's easier for me to talk to you." Ben patted the side of the bed next to him, and did not wince when Joe sat down very carefully.

"Look at me, son." Ben put his arm around Joe's waist and pulled him closer. Joe let himself be drawn into the circle of his father's arm. Finally he turned his head and met his father's eyes. Those eyes were so kind and full of love, Joe felt tears come to his own.

"Tell me what you remember, Joe."

Joe took a deep breath and began in a soft voice.

"Everything was fine, and we were sittin' under the tree makin' cloud pictures and talkin' about stuff."

"Yes, I remember that. We were talking about your mother."

"Yeah, and then I guess I fell asleep, `cause the next thing I knew, you were shakin' me and you had your hand on my mouth."

"I heard some kind of noise and saw the bear cubs in the stream. I knew that meant there was a mother bear nearby. I wanted to get away quietly and quickly. Is that what's bothering you? That I had my hand over your mouth?"

"What? No!" Little Joe couldn't imagine his father feeling badly about that. "Course not! Anyway, you pointed to the horses. I knew what you wanted. You wanted to leave."

"That's right. That's when we started for the horses."

Little Joe began to shake. "N-n-n-no. Th-that's when I yelled at the cubs. I sc-scared `em and they hollered." Joe was chalk white and shivering so violently, Ben thought he would collapse.

"Joe, what's wrong? Come here, son. Lie down next to me." Joe laid his trembling body down next to his father and rested his head on Pa's shoulder. Pa circled Joe's thin body with his arm and rubbed his back. He reached as best he could and put his other hand on Joe's head.

"Now, tell me the rest."

"Th-that's when the mother bear came to the bank on the other side."

"I remember that, too."

"You threw me toward the horses. You said you were c-coming. But you didn't come."

"I was trying to, son. I just had to keep myself between the bear and you."

"Why?! Why didn't you come?" Joe was breathing raggedly now.

"It was the same for me as it was for the mother bear. We each thought we were protecting our youngsters."

"It was my fault you got hurt! It would have been my fault if you had died!" Joe began to sob uncontrollably. Ben pressed his cheek against Joe's hair and kept rubbing his shaking back. He held Joe for a long time until the sobs subsided.

"Why do you think it was your fault, son?"

"Because if I had gone to the horses right away, the cubs wouldn't have been scared and the mother bear wouldn't have attacked you."

"That might be true, but we will never know. It all happened too fast for one action of ours to cause another."

"What d'ya mean?" Joe's breathing was becoming calmer.

"She was right there, keeping an eye on them. She might have gotten us both at the horses and might have hurt them too."

"But we had a chance to get away, and I didn't move quick enough."

"It was an accident, Joe. You can't make second guesses about accidents. That's why they are called accidents. To say you should have done this or that is the same as saying you had control of the situation. You didn't. I didn't."

"You sayin' it's not my fault you got hurt?"

"Oh, son. How could it be your fault?" Joe felt his Pa's hand rubbing his back and shoulders."

"I could blame myself for having left the rifle with my horse. The truth is, I didn't think I needed it any closer than that to go fishing. I was wrong. Do you understand?" He felt Joe nod his head.

"I need to know one more thing. The bear had me. I was not going to be able to get away from her. I don't remember a lot after that. What happened?"

Joe twisted a bit in Pa's grasp and raised his head so he could look at Pa's face. "I got to the horses and looked back, and the bear grabbed ya. She was roarin' and hangin' on to ya. I had to do somethin'"

Pa nodded for Joe to continue.

"So I grabbed your rifle from the scabbard, and I shot her."

Ben looked at Little Joe, thinking what it must have cost for the boy to find the courage to shoot. "You did shoot her." Ben said wonderingly. "It had to be. Must have been some shot."

"Sure was. I got her right between the eyes." Joe smiled a genuine smile for the first time in days.

"That's pretty good shooting, son. And you didn't want to go hunting."

Joe laughed and snuggled close to his father again, careful to not disturb his chest or the bandages.

"I'm very proud of how you handled yourself in a terrible situation, Joe. I hope I could do as well."

"Then you're not mad at me?"

Ben kissed the top of his son's head. "No, I'm not mad at you. I love you."

When Adam looked in on them an hour later, they were sound asleep, Joe still curled up at his father's side.

A week had passed since the day Ben and Joe had gone fishing. Life had settled into a nearly normal routine of chores and trips to town and eating and sleeping. Ben was improving steadily. Each of the boys spent some part of the day at his bedside, and they all gathered there after supper each evening.

As Adam came into the house one late afternoon, he saw to his surprise that his father was sitting on the settee in front of the fireplace. Hop Sing had put a pillow behind him and a quilt over his legs. He was reading quietly.

"Pa! You're up and around! That's wonderful!"

"Up is true enough. It will be a few more days until I am `around'."

Hoss entered the great room. "Pa! You must be feelin' a whole lot better!"

"I am, Son. I am."

"Boys get ready for supper. Where is Little Joe?"

"In the barn." Hoss turned back to the door and yelled, "Hey! Little Joe! Get your tail in here! Supper!"

"OK, OK, I'm comin'," said a distant voice.

"Adam, would you give me your arm? I thought I would try to eat supper with you tonight." Ben threw off the quilt and rose unsteadily to his feet. Adam supported him as they walked to the table.

Little Joe came barreling through the door just then and stopped short at the sight of Pa on his feet.

"PA!"

He seemed to cross the room in one step and flung himself at Pa.

"Take it easy, little brother. He ain't goin' nowhere."

Hoss slowed Joe's momentum enough to keep him from knocking everyone to the ground, but even so, he locked his arms around Pa's waist.

Ben laughed his deep, baritone laugh and ruffled Joe's hair. "I'm glad to see you too, Son!"

They ate their supper leisurely, sharing their day and their plans for tomorrow. At the end of the meal, Ben wiped his lips and nodded to Hop Sing.

"That was delicious, as usual. Thank you, Hop Sing."

Hop Sing nodded and smiled, clearing away the supper dishes.

Hoss and Little Joe were engaged in a bout of tickle and shove while their brother and father looking on indulgently. At the sound of Ben clearing his throat, they gave him their full attention.

"I want to put last week's events behind us, as I'm sure you all do, but there are some things that need to be said."

His sons looked at him soberly.

"I am so proud of the way you took hold and didn't allow the ranch to slide," he said with a nod to his older sons. "I know it must have been difficult for you. It's situations like this that can set the family to squabbling and falling apart or bring them together as a stronger unit. I know we're stronger because of you."

Adam and Hoss looked steadily at their father with tears in their eyes.

"Hop Sing, this is the second time your knowledge of medicine has saved this family from disaster. I will always be grateful to you."

Hop Sing ducked his head and smiled his thanks and went on clearing the table

"Adam?"

"Yes, Pa?

"Would you bring me my rifle, please?"

Adam cocked his head questioningly, but did as he was asked.

Pa hefted the long rifle. "Come here, Little Joe."

Joe slid off his chair and padded to his father's side.

"This is yours now, son. You earned the right to carry it by keeping your head when the bear had me. That took cool thinking, even if it didn't feel that way at the time."

Joe looked at Pa with eyes like saucers and for once in his life was speechless.

Adam and Hoss exchanged a look over their coffee cups that acknowledged they had gotten that part of the story wrong for sure.

Joe found his voice. "This is an awful big gun, Pa. I ain't so sure I'm ready to use it."

"Joseph, I would be so grateful if you would stop saying `ain't'. I will let you choose the time and place to use the gun. I said you had earned the right to carry it. A rifle like this is a big responsibility, but I think you are up to it. Don't let me down."

"Nossir! Yessir!" Joe looked wonderingly at the rifle for another moment. Then a thought occurred to him.

He turned to face his brothers. He looked at Adam, who ducked his head and came up smiling, giving Joe a thumbs up. He looked at Hoss, who rolled his eyes and sighed, then extended his hand for a shake. Joe soaked in the silent tribute for another moment and then scampered to his bunk to find a safe place for the gun.

"Don't run with the gun in your hand!" bellowed his father. The three elder Cartwrights looked at each other, shook their heads slightly and had a second cup of coffee.

THE END