Betrayal #1

by jfclover

“Don’t you look purty,” Hoss said as I stood in front of the mirror, straightening my black string tie.

“You’re getting kind of sweet on her, ain’t you, Little Joe?”

“Well, someone around here’s gotta. Jesse don’t want me picking her up looking like some cowpoke who’s been knee-deep in mud all day.”

“Sure, I’m sweet on her. Who wouldn’t be?”

“You two about ready?” Adam hollered from downstairs.

“Come on, little brother. That dang perfume you snitched from Pa’s ‘bout to make me sneeze.”

“For your information, big brother, it’s Pa’s Bay rum cologne. It ain’t perfume.”

The dance was already in full swing in Carl Jensen’s barn when my brothers and I arrived. It was Saturday night, and we were looking mighty fine and ready for an evening of fun. Since I was the only one with a steady girl, I quickly scanned the room for Jesse. I spotted her right off, standing with her ma and pa and her little brother, Johnny. Only a couple of weeks ago, she’d asked what my favorite color was, and since I’d told her it was blue, she’d made herself a pretty blue dress just for tonight’s dance. I walked toward Jesse, and when I caught her eye, she wore a smile that lit up her entire face. Hoss’s comments aside, I’m glad I took the effort.

Jess was my steady girl. We’d been together nearly two months, and her ma and pa seemed pleased we saw each other regularly. Mrs. Peterson had offered me a standing invitation to supper on Thursday nights, and Mr. Peterson trusted me enough to break a couple of his new broncs after I’d convinced him that, at my age, I was much more suited for the job.

Jesse was a beauty. At seventeen, she was a year my junior, and I was the first man she’d ever really been serious about. I was glad she hadn’t been with other fellas, although I didn’t know why every man in town wasn’t chasing after her. With dark, hazel eyes and sandy-blond hair, highlighted with shades of gold, she looked like a princess. She was quick-witted and was determined not to take any guff from me or anyone else who ruffled her feathers. But what made her special, she wasn’t one of those girly girls like most young ladies I’d known. Some would call her a tomboy, I guess. Like me, she liked to take long rides on her pony, which proper young ladies wouldn’t consider ladylike in front of a suitor. But Jesse was different than other young ladies. Neither of us was out to impress. We were who we were without all the formalities that took precedence when courting.

“Hi,” I said, taking her hand in mine. More than anything, I wanted to lean in for a kiss, but not daring to be so bold with her ma and pa standing on either side. “You look lovely. New dress?”

“Thanks, Joe,” she said, squeezing my hand. “You said blue was your favorite color.”

“On you,” I whispered, “anything’s my favorite color.”

“Mrs. Peterson,” I said, tipping my hat. “Mr. Peterson.”

“How are you, Little Joe?” Mrs. Peterson said. “Did you ride in tonight with your brothers?”

“Yes, ma’am. They’re around here somewhere,” I said, looking over my shoulder. While Adam and Hoss were busy signing dance cards, Jesse’s card would soon be filled with my name and my name only.

“Shall we?” I said, pulling her toward the dance floor.

We were inseparable, even when the musicians took a break and the entire room of ladies and their gentlemen escorts merged toward punch bowls or outside where the air was a bit cooler. We met up with Adam and a girl named Beth, and after my brother handed the ladies their drinks, he handed me one. “Thanks,” I said, swallowing the syrupy punch before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I felt the kick of hard liquor too many times to not suspect the bowl had been heavily spiked while the Ladies League backs had been turned. A little whiskey would liven things up, although sometimes a bit too much. I’d been known to return home with scrapes and bruises, but not once since I’d started courting Jess.

“Joe?” Jesse said. “Will you take me outside to cool off?”

“Sure will,” I said, hoping for a kiss, maybe two.

“Joe? Who’s that woman?”

“What woman?”

“Over by the door. The one with the dark hair?”

I turned and glanced over my shoulder. Three ladies stood together along the far wall, sipping punch. “Which one?”

“In the blue dress.”

“I don’t know any of them, Jess. Why?”

“I don’t know … it’s strange. She’s been watching us all night.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. Every time I glance her way, she’s staring at you and me on the dance floor.”

“Let’s get you some fresh air,” I said, laughingly. “Just forget about her. She’s just jealous, seeing how my name’s on your dance card and not hers.”

Jesse took a deep breath and hooked her arm through mine. “You’re absolutely right, Joe,” she said, rolling her eyes and smiling. “What other explanation could there possibly be?”

““`

By midnight, I was mounted on Cochise and riding home with my brothers. Jesse had let me take her outside, not for one or even two, but three kisses in the cool night air. We made plans to picnic after church the next day, maybe take a swim or just an easy ride around the Ponderosa.

As we stood in the barn, stabling our horses, Hoss and Adam both joked with me about actually making it home without starting a brawl after drinking cup after cup of that spiked punch. “Our little brother must be growin’ up some.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far, Hoss. His mind was just elsewhere tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said. “Keep it up, and there will be a brawl right here in the barn.”

“Oh, that reminds me, Joe.”

I looked up at Adam, waiting for the next jab at … well, I was never sure what my eldest brother was gonna hit me with next.

“I danced with this dark-haired woman tonight. Her name was Suzanne. No … Suzanna.”

It seemed like an odd remark, and I looked up at my brother, waiting for one of his frosty comments. “Well, what do you want me to say, Adam? Congratulations?”

“Not exactly, little brother.”

I continued to brush Cochise while I waited for some comment on how I should have been a polite gentleman and asked her to dance, and not spend the whole night with Jess.

“She asked about you, Joe.”

“Me? Why me?”

Adam glanced at Hoss before he continued. “Well,” he said, sighing, like he does on occasion, and walking out of Sport’s stall. “She had been watching you and Jesse the entire time we danced, and when I questioned her, she asked if I knew who you were.”

I remembered Jesse asking me about some woman, but I hadn’t paid much attention at the time. I had other things on my mind, kissing Jess for one.

“When I asked her why she wanted to know,” Adam continued, “all she managed to say was what a fine dancer you were.”

The look on my face said it all. I grinned at my older brothers but before I had time to strut through the barn like a full-feathered peacock, Adam grabbed hold of my arm and turned me to face him directly.

“She’s way too old for you, and besides, I thought you were already taken.”

“I’m sorry if the ladies of Virginia City find me irresistible, Adam, but—”

“She didn’t say you were irresistible. She said you were a good dancer.”

“I thought you said ‘fine dancer’.”

“Oh brother,” Hoss piped in.

“Adam?”

“What?”

“Was this … Suzanna wearing a blue dress?”

“I think so, why?”

“No reason.” Strange. Jesse was right. But the dance was over, and thoughts of a new lady in town were quickly forgotten. “Let’s raid Hop Sing’s kitchen. I’m starved.”

““`

Sleep wouldn’t come. I flipped from my front to my back all night long. Who was this woman? It really didn’t matter, did it?   I was more than content with Jess, but I’ll admit I was curious—that’s all, just curious. Jesse and I were made for each other; I knew that, so why couldn’t I sleep? Why was my mind running rampant over some mysterious, dark-haired woman?

When Hoss tapped on my door, telling me it was time to get up and get my chores done before church, I was dead to the world and could barely move from my bed. By the time Pa sent him back up to drag me down, his sunny disposition had long since vanished.

I’d nearly forgotten about the picnic I’d planned with Jesse after services until Hop Sing stepped out of the kitchen, carrying a basket and handing it to me. “For you and Missy Jesse, Little Joe.”

“Thanks, Hop Sing.”

“I make early this morning. Cherry pie for Missy Jesse.”

“She loves your cherry pie,” I said, taking hold of the basket and nodding my head in appreciation.

The three of us followed Pa to our regular seats; second row, right-hand side. I scanned the congregation as we walked down the center aisle but without the blue dress, I hadn’t paid close enough attention last night when Jesse had pointed out the mystery woman. I’d never be able to recognize her even if she stood right in front of me. She’d have to come right up and tell me her name, although no woman would consider something so forward without first being formally introduced. Instead, I looked for Jess.

I felt a tap on my shoulder as the Peterson clan slipped into the row behind us. I turned and winked at Jesse, but I was forced to turn back around when Pa’s hand clutched tightly to my knee. In my book, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but in Pa’s eyes, this wasn’t appropriate behavior while we were seated in the house of the Lord.

I had driven the buggy into town so Jesse and I could picnic down by the lake. When the service was over, and we’d met the minimal requirement of handshaking and chitchat with people I cared nothing about, we said our goodbyes, and we were off for some alone time. No pesky brothers or any other distractions for the next couple of hours.

““`

“Hey,” Jesse said, leaning forward and then twisting on the seat. “That’s her!”

A buggy, which looked to be a rental, had just passed us on the main road to and from town. I’d tipped my hat to the lone driver—a woman—but while I didn’t realize who she was, Jesse had.

“You mean the blue-dress lady?”

“Exactly. Who do you think she is?”

“You got me. New to town, I guess. I’ve never seen her before.”

Jesse leaned against me and rested her head on my shoulder, but my mind was still on the stranger. My thoughts weren’t of Jess, but of another woman, the one called Suzanna. We were on Ponderosa land, so why had she been driving out this way while we’d been sitting in church alongside most everyone else in town?

I suddenly came alive and quit my daydreaming when I felt Jesse’s hand resting on my thigh. So far, we’d not been intimate; she wasn’t that kind of girl, and I’d never expected anything more than just a few lingering kisses. As her hand crept higher on my leg, I adjusted the reins and stopped her movement with my free hand.

Although I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, I didn’t think she quite understood what she was doing to me. “How about right over there,” I said, pointing to my right. There was a large, shade tree next to the lake where we could spread our blanket and dig into the lunch Hop Sing had prepared this morning.

“Let’s go for a swim first, Joe. It’s so darn hot, wouldn’t it feel good to cool off some?”

“Sure,” I said. “Sounds good to me.”

Normally, on a warm summer day like this, I wouldn’t have worn my long johns, but I did just in case Jess suggested a swim, which she often did. I reached inside the buggy, grabbed the blanket and Hop Sing’s basket, and together we walked down toward the lake.

Jesse sat down on the blanket and started unlacing her boots. “Oh, that feels good,” she said, throwing each one over her shoulder and into the grass. “Unbutton me, will you, Joe?”

She stood up and turned her back to me. There must have been twenty or thirty tiny buttons down the back of her dress. “They sure don’t make this easy, do they?”

She giggled and put her hands on her hips. “That’s so proper young ladies can’t easily be compromised by young men like you.”

“Oh, is that why?”

“Joseph Cartwright. I thought you were a man of the world. I thought you knew everything about women.”

“Well, I—”

“I’ve heard stories, you know.”

“Stories?” My fingers hesitated on the row of pearl buttons.

“Everyone in town knows about you and Miss Bulette, including all the so-called proper girls. Even my ma and pa are privy to all that went on with … that woman. Ma said you were just too young to know what was happening and that Miss Bulette took advantage.” She glanced over her shoulder, trying to see why my hands were no longer loosening her dress. “She doesn’t hold it against you, Joe, she just told me—”

“Told you what?” I said, becoming annoyed at the direction the conversation was going. “Told you to watch out for boys like me; boys who had experience with women like … Julia Bulette?” I could feel my temper rising, but I held back as best I could.

“Well, in a way.”

“Well, maybe I should have a talk with your mother, Jess. Maybe I should set her straight on a few things.”

“Joe,” she said, turning around, her dress loosened enough it fell from her shoulders. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did. I know exactly what you meant, and it wasn’t like that at all.”

“Then, what was it like?”

I started to walk away. It had only been a few months since Julia’s death, and I wasn’t going to discuss Julia with Jesse or anyone else. Not now. Not ever.

“Joe?” she said, grabbing my arm. “Please … listen to me.”

“Why?  So you can explain to me what I already know everyone thinks they know? Is that it, Jess?”

“Joe … please—”

“I loved her, Jesse. Do you understand? I loved Julia, and now she’s dead.” She’s dead because of me, although I didn’t say the words out loud. If our affair hadn’t been so public, forcing Jean Millain’s hand, she might still be alive today.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand. I was told—”

“You’re just like all the rest, Jesse. Poor Joe Cartwright … seduced by that woman. Well, it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t like that at all.”

“Then tell me what it was like?”

“What?”

“Show me.”

My God, what was she asking of me?

“Make love to me, Joe.  Like you did with Miss Bulette.”

I stood frozen. Is that what all this was about, this conversation about Julia?

“I love you, Joe, and you’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman.” She eased herself forward and whispered in my ear. “But today, I don’t want the perfect gentleman.”

Jesse’s lips pressed against mine as if testing the waters for my reaction; her mouth—her entire body—insistent, demanding. I eagerly responded, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her hips close, closer, so she could feel the depth of my desire, pressing against her body.

If this is what she wanted, I was her man. Who, but a crazy fool, wouldn’t be anxious and excited when asked to perform? I hadn’t been with a woman since Julia, and I was eager, but what would she expect of me if I went through with her request? Marriage, children, live happily ever after?

After she loosened my string tie and unbuttoned my top button, I brought my hands to either side of her face, kissing her mouth, her face, tilting her head back, and easing my lips slowly down her neck. There was no doubt I wanted her, but this wasn’t right, and I slowed the pace. I kissed her lips once more and shook my head slowly back and forth.

“We can’t,” I said, denying us both the pleasure of making love on a warm Sunday afternoon. “I’m sorry, but we can’t do this, Jess. Not here, not this way.”

The instant her eyes teared up, she dipped her head and looked away. I reached for her and tilted her chin back up until we met eye-to-eye. “It’s my fault. I should know better. I do know better. It was foolish of me to let things go this far.”

“Take me home, Joe. I wanna go home.”

I knew she was embarrassed, and so was I for letting things intensify so quickly without thinking past my own wants and needs. “Okay, if you’re sure that’s what you want.”

She covered her face with her hands, and I could feel an occasional tremble as I worked the tiny buttons back through the holes. I wanted to say something—something worthy of the occasion—instead I struggled, all thumbs, with the back of her dress. After picking up the blanket and basket, I helped Jesse into the buggy. There was silence between us, and I only hoped we could forget today and pretend it never happened. But it had happened. We’d both been foolish to think we could be lovers one day and not have it continue forever. Maybe it was the strange lady in the blue dress that brought all this on. Was Jesse afraid I wouldn’t want her if she didn’t offer herself to me? Did she think I’d take up with some mystery woman I’d never even met?

“Jesse?”

She raised her head slightly, and I slowed the buggy and pulled over to the side of the road. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?  There’s no other girl for me … only you.”

“I feel like such a … it wasn’t your fault, Joe. I just—”

“Come here.”  I pulled her next to me. “All’s forgotten?”

“Are you sure? You don’t hate me?”

“I could never hate you, Jesse, but I will tell you this.”

“What’s that?” A quick flash of worry swept through her eyes.

“You really want to know?”

“Yes …”

“Hop Sing’s gonna be plenty mad if we don’t eat his cherry pie.”

““`

The week progressed as usual and by midweek, I was washed, dressed, and prided myself on being in such a good mood so early in the morning. Pa, Hoss, and Adam were already seated around the table, so it wasn’t as early as I thought. “Morning.”

“Good morning, son. Sleep well?”

“Yep.”

“You never mentioned anything about your picnic with Jesse? Everything all right, son?”

“Sure. Not much to tell. We picnicked by the lake.”

Yeah … what was I going to tell my father? More disastrous than good, Pa. Although to be honest, Jesse and I had worked everything out in the end. We’d sat on her parent’s front porch the entire evening, talking things out like we’d always done in the past. We avoided the subject of our picnic for as long as possible and even though it was Jesse who finally brought it up, it was just as I’d suspected. She had been jealous of this unknown woman and my association with Julia.

A man has needs, but I wasn’t going to discuss those needs with Jess. And even though I was tempted to follow her lead, I remained the perfect gentleman, and I could hold my head high—she could too. Hopefully, there’d be no more talk of Julia. That was a different time and place with the freedom to explore and, if I wanted to state the obvious, I’d honed my skills as a lover.

I’d considered my curiosity over the lady who’d picked Jess and me out of the crowd and whether I was being completely honest or not. But in the end, I told Jesse she was crazy to think I’d leave her and run off with someone else. She assured me she’d put her thoughts aside and that she’d been acting like a silly schoolgirl, not a grown woman of seventeen.

“Well, Joseph, I want you to ride into town this morning. You’ll need to pick up supplies for Hop Sing. Oh, and stop in for the mail, and I have some banking for you to do also.”

“Yessir.”

“Hoss and Adam? This is what I have planned for the two of you—”

I smiled at my older brothers, taking pleasure in Pa’s instructions, but both of my brothers scowled back, unhappy with the grueling projects they’d been assigned. I’m not sure why, but I’d gotten the better deal for sure. While my two brothers would be cleaning out ditches and replacing damaged fence lines, I’d ride leisurely on a buckboard and have an easy day in town.

““`

I dropped the buckboard off in front of the mercantile, leaving Hop Sing’s list with Jake. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“I’ll have your order ready, Little Joe.”

“Sounds good.”

I’d pick up the mail, do Pa’s banking, and still have time for a quick beer before the hour was up. I could hear the faint sound of men’s voices coming from each saloon I passed. It was only mid-morning, and Virginia City was already bustling with people popping in and out of numerous establishments and wagons, kicking up dirt and dust as they plowed their way up and down C Street.

I picked up the mail, but there was a line of people when I entered the bank, and I stood patiently, waiting for a window to open so I could get the two sizable drafts Pa needed. I turned and looked over my shoulder when the bell jangled above the front door. I tipped my hat at the lady and turned back around in line.

“Excuse me,” she said, stepping up behind me.

“Yes, ma’am?”

She lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “This may sound a bit forward, but didn’t I see you at the dance last Saturday night?”

“Yes, ma’am. I was there with my …” I clicked my fingers. “You were standing with friends of yours, wearing a blue dress, right?”

“Why yes, I was.”

“Little Joe?” Simon, the teller, called.

“Um … excuse me for a minute, will you?”

“Certainly.”

My hand shook as I reached for the letter Pa had sent with me. “Two separate drafts, Simon.”

He glanced at the missive. “I’ll be right back, Little Joe.”

Why was I nervous? I couldn’t even turn around and look at her. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her walk up to the second teller’s window. She glanced in my direction, and I smiled awkwardly, feeling I was cheating on Jesse just looking her way.

Simon hadn’t returned with my drafts by the time the woman had finished and walked out the door. Adam was right about one thing; she was more his age than mine, but I’d never seen a woman with eyes that color. They were a deep, dark brown; something like Pa’s, but different—fiery and intense—as if she could see straight through to my soul. I took a deep breath and shook the lady from my mind.

When Simon returned to the window and handed me the two drafts, I tucked them into my jacket pocket and headed out the door. I looked to my left, no one, but when I looked to my right, there she was. She carried a green parasol, which matched perfectly with the green dress she wore. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and when she turned and met me straight on with those dark, flaming eyes, I nearly froze in place.

“I … I’m Joe Cartwright, ma’am.”

“Suzanna,” she said with a hint of a southern accent. “It’s nice to meet you, Joe Cartwright.”

“I take it you’re not from around here.”

“You’re absolutely right, Mr. Cartwright. I’m not from around here. You might say I was born quite a long distance from here. New Orleans is my home.”

“New Orleans?”

“Yes … you see, with the current trouble spreading across the southern states, my father felt it would be wise to send me to live with my aunt in San Francisco. He hopes this unrest will end sooner than later, and we will be able to return to our long-established homes in the south.”

“We’ve all read about the troubles between the North and South. I’m sorry to hear you were forced to leave your home.”

“Thank you.  I love my home, and I love everything about New Orleans. I’m not quite sure how long I’ll last in this wild and dusty West, I assume you find pleasurable.”

“I was born here, ma’am, so I don’t know anything else, but you may be surprised to know my mother was born in New Orleans.”

“You don’t say.”

“Um … could I maybe buy you a cup of coffee? Could we sit and talk for a while?”

“Well, we haven’t been properly introduced, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Call me Joe, ma’am.”

“Only if you’ll call me Suzanna. I hope you didn’t think me too forward, Joe.”

“Oh, no.  No, ma’am, not at all, I mean Suzanna.”

“Well, thank you, kind sir,” she said, sporting a beautiful smile.

“As you said, we haven’t been properly introduced, but it’s only a cup of coffee. Have you been to Miss Daisy’s café yet?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Good. Then we have no problem. Miss Daisy can introduce us.”

“I like your style, Joe Cartwright.”

“Thank you, Suzanna.”

When I walked into the café with Suzanna, Daisy gave me a stern look but when I explained the situation, the New Orleans connection, and asked her to introduce us, she honored my request before scurrying off and returning with coffee and two pieces of apple pie.

We sat and talked for nearly two hours. Suzanna told me things Pa had never mentioned about New Orleans, and after her rendition, I was certain I’d have to make the trip if I really wanted to appreciate the sights and sounds of my mother’s birthplace. Suzanna went on to tell me her father was a judge, and from what he could make of these unpleasant matters concerning the south, war was imminent, and so, for her own safety, he’d sent her away.

“What about your aunt in San Francisco?” I asked. “Won’t she be expecting you?”

Suzanna shook her head. “I needed a few days with my feet on the ground. It seemed like I’d been on that stagecoach forever.”

I chuckled at her honesty. “It can be a rough ride for sure.”

“I’m somewhat apprehensive about being alone and not knowing anyone in Virginia City. I know this is asking a lot, but I was wondering if … well, if you could maybe show me some of the sights during my stay?”

“So you didn’t know those two other ladies at the dance?”

“Goodness no, but I would have felt foolish standing alone.”

I thought about Jesse and wondered if she’d ever speak to me again if I carried through with Suzanna’s request. But if I learned more about New Orleans during the next few days, it would be worth every minute. Even Pa would understand my reasons if I asked for a couple of days off.

“I’d be glad to show you around,” I said. “Where are you staying?”

“I’ve checked into the International House.”

“I can’t do anything today. I have a wagon load of supplies I need to get out to the ranch, but I could pick you up tomorrow … say around noon.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Joe. Do you have a buggy? Maybe we could take a ride and you could show me the countryside.”

“I’d be delighted.”

““`

I found myself whistling some silly barroom tune on the way home; in fact, I think I even remembered Adam playing this simple song on his guitar. This feeling, which had come over me, was curious at best. I was just being a good neighbor, but why did I sense excitement and daring? I wasn’t abandoning Jesse; I was just trying to be a gentleman, so why did I feel I had to convince myself this was the right thing to do? New Orleans—that’s why. I would learn more about the city and its people. Maybe I could tell Pa a thing or two by the time Suzanna had filled me in on city life now.

Pa walked out the front door when he heard me pull up in the buckboard. “What took you so long, young man?”

There was nothing wrong with the truth, was there? “Hi, Pa.”

“Well?”

“Well, you see, I was at the bank, and, well … I met this lady.”

Pa threw his head back, and his arms flew up in the air.

“Wait … I can explain.”

“Of course, you can, Joseph.”

I told Pa the entire story. I mentioned more than once the New Orleans aspect and finally got up the courage to ask for a few days off. “See, the way I figure it, Pa, she’s only gonna be in town for a couple of days, and I told her I’d show her the sights. Just think how much I can learn about Mama’s people in two days.”

“Oh, all right,” Pa said, grudgingly at first, then clapped me on the back. “I suppose I understand.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, unload those supplies. I guess it’s too late for you to ride out and help your brothers.”

“I guess it is.”

“Yes … I can see how disappointed you are.”

“That sounded a little sarcastic, Pa,” I said, sporting a frown.

Pa’s finger pointed to the heavily loaded buckboard. “Get busy.”

As we sat around the dinner table that evening, Pa mentioned my new friend and my taking a few days off. While Hoss grinned and shook his head in disbelief, Adam glared at me like I’d come down with the plague or some other vile disease.

“What’s bugging you?”

“I don’t know why she’d pick you to escort her around, Joe. There’s just something odd about this whole situation.”

“What do you mean by that, son?” Pa lowered his fork and looked up at Adam.

“She’s a beautiful woman and she picked me rather than him. Adam’s just jealous, that’s all.”

“That’s not it at all, Joe.”

“Then what’s the matter with me showing her around? Say it, Adam. The lady is older than I am so that makes it wrong, am I right?”

“Partly, but I find it strange that she picked you out at that dance the other night, and then she runs into you at the bank.”

“What’s so strange? It’s called coincidence.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pa?” I wanted him to intervene.

“You be careful tomorrow, young man. None of us knows anything about this woman, but I will admit, this time I agree with you, Joseph. It was probably just a coincidence. Use common sense and you’ll be fine.”

“Yessir.”

“Little Joe ain’t got no common sense when it comes to ladies, Pa.”

“Ha, ha.  You can keep your opinions to yourself, too.”

““`

My couple of days off started with early morning chores, and when I told Pa I didn’t have to pick Suzanna up till noon, he found more for me to do in the barn until it was time to go.

“Remember now, son, use your head,” Pa said when I pulled out the buggy.

“Adam’s just … well, he’s not thinking straight, Pa. There’s nothin’ to worry about.”

“All right, Joseph. Have a good time.”

“Thanks.” At least my father understood this outing consisted of nothing more than talking about New Orleans, and besides, Pa would have done the same. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.

I slapped the horse with the leather reins and took off around the barn. I’d taken time between chores to wipe down the carriage so it appeared clean and shiny. I’d never asked Suzanna’s last name, and with her dark eyes and her olive complexion, I wondered if she was possibly French Creole like my ma. Even after Adam’s uncalled-for comments, I was excited to hear more about New Orleans and anything else there was to know about the southern way of life.

I wouldn’t mention any of this to a soul, but I was eager to look into those dark, piercing eyes once again. There was just something about her—something mysterious and uninhibited—in the way she returned my gaze. I didn’t feel young or ordinary. Somehow, she made me feel like I was the only person worthy of escorting her during her short stay in Virginia City.

When I pulled the buggy up in front of the hotel, she was standing outside waiting for me. I jumped down and walked up the front steps. “Looks like you’re ready to go.” She held out her gloved hand, and I took it in mine. “I’d like to show you the lake … that’s if you’d like to see it.”

“I’d love to.”

““`

I helped Suzanna into the buggy, and we drove out of town. Clouds were already forming to the west, and I hoped we could get our ride in before a storm threatened to end our day.

“This land is so beautiful,” she said once we’d driven west of town.

“I have to agree with you, especially since my father owns the land we’re currently driving across.”

“And your mother?”

“My mother died when I was just a little kid.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t remember too much about her, but Pa used to tell me stories about New Orleans and how even though he and Ma had been raised worlds apart, they still fell in love, and she was willing to leave her friends and her home to move to the wilds of Nevada.”

“What a romantic thing to say,” she said with that southern inflection to her voice. “They must have loved each other very much.”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah, I think they did.”

We rode in silence for the next few minutes until I pointed to my right. “There’s the lake,” I said.

Suzanna raised her hands, covering her mouth. “I’ve never seen anything so blue. Oh, Joe, it’s beautiful. Can we drive closer?”

“Sure, we can.”

I slapped the reins, aiming to quicken the horse’s gait. “Right over this ridge, and we can get out and walk down.”

The clouds were darkening, and I knew we didn’t have much time left. I took Suzanna’s hand and helped her out of the buggy. She was dressed more casually today in a white blouse, buttoned tight at the neck, a black skirt, and, of course, a matching black parasol. I wondered how many of those silly little umbrellas she’d carried cross-country.

I kept hold of her hand as we walked down the uneven slope. “Watch your step,” I cautioned. She stopped every now and then, letting her eyes take in the vastness of Tahoe and the surrounding area. “Is this far enough? We could sit down right over there.”  I pointed to a grassy spot. “I should have brought a blanket so you don’t dirty your dress.”

“My skirt is the last thing I’m concerned about today. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to leave this place. Is there anything in San Francisco as beautiful as this lake and these tall, magnificent trees?”

“It’s a toss-up, I guess. Out there you’ve got the ocean.”

“This is simply grand. I just can’t believe my eyes.”

I enjoyed her accent, and even though we hadn’t talked about New Orleans, I was content to just show her the Ponderosa. We stared at the lake and beyond. I realized the Ponderosa was something that, over the years, I’d taken for granted, whereas Suzanna was seeing it for the first time, and she appreciated its beauty.

“Thank you so much for showing me this wonderful land of yours, Joe. You must be so proud to call this your home.”

“What’s even better is seeing it through your eyes.”

I leaned back on my elbows, breathing in the fresh mountain air, and although the wind had come up, forcing whitecaps across the lake, it was still a beautiful sight. “We should probably head back soon. It looks like a storm’s on its way.”

“I hate to leave,” she said with a slight pout of disappointment,” but I guess you’re right.”

The minute I pulled Suzanna to her feet, the clouds opened, rain drenching each of us so by the time we got back to the buggy, we were both soaked to the skin. “You’re cold,” I said. “Maybe my jacket will help.”

I shed my lightweight jacket, and as I draped it over her shoulders, I could see her lacy undergarments under her rain-soaked blouse. My eyes lingered longer than proper society would have allowed, but as I watched her large, rounded breasts heave after we’d raced up the hill, I found myself brazenly staring. Feeling ashamed, I leaped up into the buggy and started the horse back toward town.

Suzanna slid closer to me and slipped her arm through mine. “It’s freezing, Joe.”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I knew it was going to rain, and I kept you out much too long.”

I felt her shiver. She held on tight as if my arm were her lifeline to a warm, dry room with a crackling fire. There was a roof over our heads, but the rain pelted in from the sides, soaking us even more, and by the time I stopped in front of the International House, loose strands of Suzanna’s dark hair clung tightly to the sides of her face. I jumped down from the buggy and helped her up the steps to the front door.

“I’m so disappointed our day was cut short. Please come upstairs. I can at least provide you with a towel to dry off.”

“I should go.”

“Oh, please. It’s the least I can do.”

Suzanna clung to my arm, still shivering as we climbed the stairs to her room. She had a black string purse she tried to open it to find her key. “Here.”  She handed the bag to me. “I can’t do anything. My fingers are so cold.”

I reached in for the key and unlocked the door to her room, offering her entry before me. She pulled two towels off the washstand and tossed one to me, and I ran it over my face and across the back of my neck. And, when I looked up, Suzanna had turned her back to me and had already removed her black skirt, letting it pool at her feet on the carpeted floor. She was beginning to unbutton her blouse.

“I’d better go.”

“Not yet, Joe. I’m just going to throw on something warm.”

She moved behind a small Chinese screen and finished undressing while I towel-dried my hair. My shirt and pants were soaked, and I still had a long ride home. When she reappeared, she wore an aqua-colored dressing gown and a pair of matching slippers.

“Oh my.  That feels so much better.”

“I really should go now.”

“But, Joe, you’re soaking wet. At least stay till the storm’s over. Surely I have something you can put on and let those clothes of yours dry.”

“I’m not sure how good I’d look in a dress.”

“Don’t be silly.” She shook her head and smiled. “Why don’t you just wrap yourself up in a blanket for now?”

I couldn’t do that. Not in front of a lady. “I don’t think—”

“I won’t look if that’s what’s worrying you. Just go behind the screen while I light a fire. Your clothes will be dry in no time.”

This is one time I wished I’d worn my long johns. How could I sit wrapped up in a blanket with nothing else on? This just wasn’t right, but I couldn’t find the right words to come up with a reason not to abide by Suzanna’s request.

“Okay,” I said reluctantly.

I used her bedspread like I would a towel after a bath, wrapping it around and around, tucking it in securely at my waist. I was still bare-chested, and it just felt wrong being half-naked in front of a lady I’d only known for a few hours. If Jesse ever found out, oh God, how could I ever explain my behavior?

I briefly thought of Julia and how we never cared whether we were dressed or not. There were numerous times I walked around her rooms naked, although that was a different time and a much different lady.   I had to admit, as much as I’d defended Julia Bulette’s way of life, Suzanna wasn’t the same type of woman at all.

I stepped out from behind the screen.

““`

I’d done the unthinkable.  I betrayed Jesse in the worst possible way. Even though she’d asked me to make love with her, I would never in a million years compromise or tarnish her reputation in that way.  But when Suzanna made herself available, it was easy to lose all sense of right and wrong.  Maybe the discussion we had about Julia brought back memories that should have remained only memories.

Her fears concerning the woman dressed in blue had become real. I’d taken the bait—hook, line, and sinker—and fallen for the charms of a southern lady. A beautiful lady I had no business spending time with in the first place.

I was exhausted, mentally and physically. My life had become a lie. A smart man would have walked away from the obvious temptations of a beautiful woman, but being the fool, I lived too dangerously for my own good. What made things even worse, I would visit Suzanna again tomorrow. Call it seduction, call it deception, call it anything you want, but I knew I couldn’t stay away.

All day long I’d felt like a big man, and it was Suzanna who’d pumped my ego with subtle words or a single touch of her hand. I wasn’t just a kid chauffeuring a beautiful woman around, explaining the sights and sounds that were commonplace on a ranch; I was a man she took seriously. So, when the rain came, and we rushed back to the hotel, taking her in my arms seemed like the most natural thing to do.

Suzanna made love slowly, passionately.  Eventually, she would ask me to touch her in special ways—ways that embarrassed me at first—but I found her insatiable, and what I hadn’t learned from Julia, Suzanna pursued as my new instructor. She guided me, introduced, and cautioned me on the finer points of lovemaking.  She taught me when to wait, when to take, and when to demand.

As I pressed my knee gently, separating her thighs, her legs parted instinctively. And as I glanced up, catching only a sliver of those dark, fiery eyes nearly hidden below thick lashes, she more than begged me to enter her domain.  I felt her need—her growing anticipation—but again, I’d been educated well. With my newly acquired skills, I slowed my advances, running the backs of my fingers across her creamy, white thighs, taunting, teasing, until the time was right. Circling my fingers, time and again, her breasts heaved, and her grip tightened and pulled me closer with heated desire.  I penetrated her with my fingers then stroked her deeply until I felt her entire body shudder. I continued to probe, pressing farther inside, rousing the onset of moisture and heat. When her back arched and her legs became rigid, quivering against my own naked flesh; when her body trembled with a sudden rush of pleasure, I replaced my finger with the tip of my tongue, probing and tantalizing the little nub just inside the doorway to her soul.

I, too, was filled with sensations I never realized were possible. As much as I pleasured Suzanna, she pleasured me more, caressing, arousing, and praising my abilities as a man.   We were a seamless match, giving and taking, loving, and delighting. When I returned home, I lingered in the barn longer than necessary, not totally anxious to walk through the front door and face the enemy. But Pa wasn’t the enemy; it was my own guilt that proved to be the true nemesis. My brothers had always accused me of chasing skirts, but this time, the chasing had been reversed. This time, I’d been chased, and without a doubt, conquered, and still, the question lingered. Had Suzanna and I really met by accident, or was Adam accurate in his thinking all along? I hated to admit my brother might be right. After all, coincidences happen all the time. I’d never let on to Adam. I’d even bet hard-earned money that running into Suzanna at the bank was nothing but an accidental meeting.

With the buggy put away, and the horse bedded down for the night, I closed the barn doors behind me. There was a soft glow of lamplight illuminating the front window, and I figured Pa would be sitting there waiting. I walked in, pretending there was nothing out of the ordinary or deceitful about my day, knowing if Pa was awake, I’d have to straight-out lie. He’d trusted me to do the right thing. “Use your head,” he’d said. Yeah, his baby son did exactly that.

But it was Adam who’d stayed up waiting, occupying his evening, reading one of his many leather-bound books. He didn’t say a word as I loosened my gunbelt and removed my jacket and hat, but when I passed by him on my way to the stairs, he finally spoke.

“Have a good time?”

I took a deep breath and answered my brother with a true fact. “I drove Suzanna up to the lake, but we got rained out.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said after hearing his tone of voice.

“It means the storm ended hours ago.”

“Why does my personal life interest you so?”   There were times I wanted to choke my eldest brother. Why was he always prying into matters that didn’t concern him?

“It doesn’t, Joe.”

“We went out to dinner, okay?”

“It was just a simple question,” he said before standing and dropping his book on the chair. “I was only thinking back to when I was your age.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Sometimes it’s hard to keep those hormones in check.”

I wanted to slam my brother a good one. What was he; a friggin’ mind reader?

“Think I’ll turn in,” he said after patting me on the shoulder.

“Fine. Me too.”

““`

“Got in kind of late last night, didn’t you, son?”

“Yessir. Later than I had expected.” I glanced at Adam, waiting for him to ruin breakfast with some sarcastic comment of his. “Suzanna ended up treating me to dinner after I’d driven her around the Ponderosa all day”.

“That was nice of her,” Pa said.

“Yeah, it was.” I couldn’t look at my father. I just answered his question the best I knew how.

“So, what do you plan to show this young lady today?” Pa asked before reaching for the plate of biscuits.

“I’m not sure,” I lied. Gee, Pa, we may not even make it out of her room. I’m sure we’ll only be seeing each other’s sights. Not exactly what you had in mind for your youngest son was it? “Any suggestions?”

“I have many, but I’m not sure a young lady would be interested in our milling operations or any of our mines.”

I suppressed a laugh. “No, I guess not. I’ll ask her if there’s anything special, besides me, that she’d be interested in. Maybe … maybe we can track down that herd of wild mustangs Hoss and I saw a few weeks back.”

“Well, no matter what you decide to do,” Pa said, “I’m sure she’s enjoying your company.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

““`

With breakfast finished and without any off-handed remarks from Adam, I ran through some easy chores Pa had lined up for me then hopped back in the buggy and drove into town. I was a bundle of nerves, half excited and half disheartened by what I’d already done and what I planned to continue doing while Suzanna remained in town.

I stabled the horse and walked back to the hotel, and after tipping my hat to Tom, the hotel clerk; I bounded up the stairs to Suzanna’s room and tapped on her door.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s Joe,” I said, holding my hat in front of my clearly visible erection. I was as hard as a schoolboy seeing his first pretty girl, and I was notably uncomfortable, realizing I still had no control over embarrassing situations such as these.

But what I caught sight of as I entered the small, but brightly wallpapered room made me glad I was born a man. Suzanna lay in the center of the bed; a smile of satisfaction lingered across her generous lips. I stared at her sensual curves covered only by a sheer, peach-colored dressing gown, allowing the dark peaks of her breasts to show through. She leaned up on one elbow and reached her hand out for me. And like that young schoolboy who was half afraid even though his body was raring to go, I took tentative steps toward the bed. Her left knee was bent forward, covering her most private area, but as she reached down, slipping the silky gown slowly up her bare, white leg, I dropped my hat on the chair, leaned forward, and pressed my lips to hers.

“Good morning.”

“It is now that you’re here.”

For a split second, I thought of Tom Madigan, the hotel clerk, standing behind the desk and glancing periodically at the grandfather clock, counting the minutes until I returned to the lobby. Rumors of Little Joe Cartwright and that new woman in town would spread like wildfire if I chose to stay locked behind closed doors for the rest of the day.

After yesterday, and my prolonged visit, I couldn’t take that chance. We had to go elsewhere, anywhere but here in this room. But as I stood next to the bed, watching her loosen the satin ribbon tied loosely across her breasts, and as I picked up the scent of sweet verbena, I unbuckled my gunbelt and tossed my hat and coat.

“We can’t stay here all day,” I whispered as I lowered the gown from her shoulders. “Your reputation—”

Her lips were soft and moist, her body glowing, as light poured in from the hotel window, highlighting the arc of her body. She eased me down on the bed. With concerns over reputations now misplaced, I kissed Suzanna as I’d kissed Jesse only days before; her face, her neck, and her creamy, white breasts. Jesse had wanted to make love; instead, my lips tasted Suzanna’s, desirable, irresistible Suzanna.

The tiny room was sweltering, small, and claustrophobic. I lay on my back with my eyes closed while Suzanna’s fingers skimmed across my chest and belly, bringing gooseflesh to my sweat-covered skin. There were no words, only her gentle touch.

Even though we spent hours making love, we always found moments to laugh and talk about silly things in between. When I tried to sit up, when I knew it was time to go, Suzanna gently pushed me back down on the bed. “Please don’t go.”  As if tiptoeing on white, puffy clouds, her hand skimmed down my body; her fingertips working their magic, reducing me to that schoolboy who didn’t have a lick of sense or the brains to say no.

““`

“I really should—”

“Stay the night, Joe. Please?”

But Pa expects me home for supper, the little boy inside me cried. I need to go now or I’ll end up in more trouble than I know what to do with.  

“I have to go, Suzanna. Maybe … maybe tomorrow I can show you more of … well, whatever you’d like to see before you leave for San Francisco.”

“Promise you’ll be back tomorrow?”

No! I wanted to say. Don’t you understand this is wrong? I have a girl, and her name is Jesse. She’s the one I love. She’s the one I should be with.

But I was a fool, a fool who couldn’t say no to the pleasure I’d found with this southern lady. “I promise,” I said instead.

As I slipped into my clothes and fastened my gunbelt, Suzanna slid the peach-colored gown up over her shoulders, slowly tying the single, satin ribbon barely concealing her breasts. “Tomorrow then?” she said, rising from the bed and running her fingertips down my cheek.

“Tomorrow.”

I reached for the latch on her door but before I could step into the hallway, a man’s fist nearly crushed my lower jaw. As I stumbled backward, the tip of the man’s boot contacted my groin and sent me flying to the floor, clutching myself and groaning in unbelievable pain. I’d never felt such strength in one man before. But he wasn’t finished.  His boot tip slammed into my side, once, twice, three times until I ended up curling like a baby and struggling to catch my breath.

When he grabbed hold of my arm, jerking me back to my feet, I had to steady myself, holding tight to the end rails of the bed. I was bent nearly in half; pain radiated everywhere like blazing-hot fire. It’s all I could do not to keel over in a dead faint from the onslaught of the man’s vicious attack. My head spun and as I tried to slow my breathing, he slapped me across the face, pitching me backward across the bed and taking Suzanna with me.

As she scrambled to sit up, Suzanna pulled the bedclothes up tightly and tucked them under her chin, shaking, sobbing, scared to death by this sudden act of violence. I tried to place myself in front of her, blocking anything this man might try next.

“Who are you?  What do you want?” I breathed heavily, hoping the dizziness would pass before I collapsed face down on the floor and became worthless to us both.

The man pulled his gun early on, and he leaned forward, relieving me of mine. He placed himself directly in front of me, although his gun barrel pointed straight at Suzanna. “Listen up and listen carefully, boy,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice, “I want one hundred dollars. I believe that amount will cover my expenses.”

“Expenses?”

“Oh, Joseph, are you that naïve? I’ve been watching you sneak into this room for two days now and if the hotel manager doesn’t spread rumors, you know I will.”

“Why are you doing this?”

He smiled and glanced at Suzanna. “Well, you see, son, Ben and I go way back, and I know he’ll be disappointed if he finds out his son is playing games he shouldn’t be playing. And, since you fancy the ladies a bit too much and, after that sordid affair last year, I’d hate to see this young lady’s life end as tragically as Miss Bulette’s.”

My, God, who was this man? He knew everything about me, and I would be forced to do exactly as he asked or risk Suzanna’s life.

“So, this is the plan. Joseph. You’ll bring one hundred dollars to this room by eight tomorrow night, or your secret rendezvous will no longer be a private affair. It won’t be pretty though. A slow and painful death is what I have in mind for this lovely lady if you don’t show with the money.” I heard Suzanna’s shaky intake of breath; I knew how frightened she must be, but there was nothing I could do but promise to give the man what he wanted. “I want to make certain you understand.”

“Don’t worry, I heard you.” Again, the back of his hand slashed across my face, knocking me back against Suzanna.

“You have quite an attitude, boy.” The man grabbed hold of my chin and forced me to look up. “If you want the lady to remain alive, I suggest you look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“I’ll be … here,” I said, still gasping for air.

“Now,” he said, moving the barrel of his gun so it pressed hard against my temple. “I also suggest you don’t mention our little arrangement to Ben or to either of those brothers of yours and, if that’s what you choose to do, it won’t just be the lady who meets her maker.”

I feared moving, but I nodded my head.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” I said, barely above a whisper. “I heard every word.”

“Oh, let me add one more thing, and this goes for both of you, so listen up one more time. If either of you talks to the sheriff … everyone dies.”

Neither Suzanna nor I moved or made a sound.

“Hear me, son?”

“I’m not your son,” I said, glaring at the intruder.

“That’s correct.” A hint of a smile touched his lips. “You’re Ben Cartwright’s son but as your father’s son, you will treat me with the utmost respect.”

“Yessir.”

“One hundred dollars.  Eight tomorrow night.”

With his gun still drawn and my Colt tucked safely inside his waistband, the man backed out of the room.   Suzanna collapsed against me. She trembled; she cried, and I did what I could to comfort her.

I would get the $100 and be done with the man—the man with no name—the man, who was lean and muscular and double my size, the man who carried a long, jagged scar down the side of his face. As much as I wanted to tell my father or one of my brothers, I would keep the matter to myself.

I had saved enough over the years to cover the hundred, but not much more. I’d never been a big saver like my brothers. How could a person enjoy life if he didn’t spend a little money along the way? A few drinks with friends, a pretty girl? Pa had some idea of my current worth—around $140, according to my bankbook—and if I tucked some of my pay back into my account at the end of each month, maybe I could replace most of the cash before he ever found out.

““`

I’d had a lot of explaining to do. My face was bruised and swollen, and my ribs were on fire, probably cracked, but as far as I could judge, nothing was broken or needed stitches.

“What in the name of … what happened to you, Joseph?” Pa had practically thrown down his book and come running toward me when I walked through the front door. He held me at arm’s length and began examining every inch of my face.

“I got in a fight,” I said, trying to not give any details, only generalizations.

“I see that, boy, but where? Why?”

“Well,” I said, “after I dropped Suzanna off, I decided to stop by the saloon for a beer. It wasn’t my fault, Pa. I didn’t start nothin’; I just ended up right in the middle of the fracas that had nothin’ to do with me. By the time the sheriff broke things up, I had already taken a couple of hard punches and was just tryin’ to get the heck outta there.”

“Hop Sing!” Pa yelled.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“You’re not fine, Joseph. Now let Hop Sing clean up your face.”

“Okay,” I said, meeting Hop Sing halfway as he came running through the dining room. We walked back to the kitchen together.

“Boy not look fine,” he commented when he saw my face.

“Just do what you have to, Hop Sing.”

I eased myself down in the only chair available and let Hop Sing tend my scrapes. I remembered only a week ago when life was simple, and we all sat around the dining room table laughing and joking over silly things like Mrs. R.J. Mops.

We’d walked into the house after church, still cutting up over the wealthy widow who’d caught her boot heel in the hem of her skirt and ripped the entire bottom half of her dress right off its waistband. Layers of wired petticoats bounced and tumbled from side to side as she ran down the church steps toward her carriage. We howled like schoolboys over the entire affair, and I kept expecting Pa to intervene and scold the three of us for our outward display of disrespect, but I noticed the corners of his mouth kept twitching too.

What I found more surprising than Pa’s suppressed humor was the fact that Adam was laughing right along with Hoss and me. He’s usually he’s … oh, I don’t know …   above that kind of thing. But we all knew what a pompous old biddy Mrs. Mops was, and I guess you could say nobody was sorry to see her taken down a peg or two. I have to admit, as arrogant as my oldest brother can be at times, he’s not a snob and has no patience with those who are.

Adam caught my attention when he made a snide remark about how Mrs. Mops had chosen to blame the whole embarrassing incident on her Chinese driver.

“I thought she’s gonna take a whip to that boy,” Hoss said, still laughing.

“Maybe she did,” Adam said with an edge to his voice.

“You think?” Softhearted Hoss. Suddenly, he appeared worried, and the humor of the situation was completely forgotten over his concern for the hapless servant.

I thought about my situation, and I was that Chinese driver, and the man who beat me was Mrs. Mops. I didn’t deserve this; I’d done nothing but make love to a beautiful woman. Was that so wrong? To some, yes, but I didn’t deserve the beating. Maybe the unsuspecting get hurt the worst.

“Boy get punch in ribs?”

“Kicked,” I said.

“Hop Sing check, make sure not broken, wrap tight.” As I tried to readjust myself to a more comfortable position, Hop Sing scolded me. “You be still. Hop Sing have much work putting boy back together.”

According to Hop Sing, after I’d listened to one complaint after another about wasting time with foolish number-three son, I’d be as good as new. He wrapped my ribs so tight I could barely breathe. Then, he had me sit back down, which was nearly impossible given the god-awful swelling between my legs. He yelled at me to hold still then gently smoothed some of his special salve on the cuts and scrapes decorating my face. I flinched and turned my head away when he touched my swollen jaw. That man sure packed a wallop; I was surprised I had any teeth left to chew with.

Dinner was a long and painful ordeal. I kept shifting my weight on the dining room chair, thinking that at any time I might still be sick to my stomach. I’d often heard getting kicked in the … well, between the legs caused more pain than anything else, but I never imagined the sheer agony a boot tip could cause. I was still lightheaded, although I think I concealed it quite well.

I mentioned to Pa that tomorrow would be my last trip into town. I told him I’d promised Suzanna one more day. If he only knew what tomorrow would bring, I didn’t know if he’d want to protect me or skin me alive—most likely both.

Again, I lay awake, my heart pounding at just the thought of having to meet with that man tomorrow night. I’d headed up to bed early, leaving Hoss grinning proudly when I’d lost three games in a row. Obviously, my mind wasn’t on checkers, and I don’t think Hoss had any clue as to why he’d been able to jump every one of my pieces then tease me after kinging them all.

I could only hear mumblings of voices downstairs, Pa and Hoss and Adam, all three in danger but unknowing. I wouldn’t let anything happen to my family, and I wouldn’t let anything happen to Suzanna either. She’d been nothing but loving and kind. This business between “Scarface” and me had been no fault of hers and, as far as I knew, I’d never laid eyes on him before tonight, although he sure knew everything he needed to know about me.

~~~

Since I had to meet the man at eight, I didn’t ride into town till after lunch, explaining to Pa that Suzanna wanted to treat me to dinner after I showed her around town today. Once again, I told another bald-faced lie, which I rattled off with perfect ease to my father.

Sitting in the buggy was more soothing on my damaged body than riding Cochise but still, I felt every bump and dip in the road. I went ahead and stabled the horse, knowing I’d be in town for an extended period. My first stop was the bank to withdraw the $100 it had taken half my life to save, and here it would be gone in a heartbeat—poof—like magic—vanished into thin air.

I remember Pa strongly urging me to save half of any money I earned. When I was just a kid, I used to do little pick-up jobs for Pa or my brothers, even for some of the shop owners in town, allowing me to earn extra cash for something I desperately needed. My father saw things differently. I didn’t desperately need anything, and Pa had me put half of my hard-earned handful of coins straight in the bank.

After leaving Simon’s window, I stuffed the money in my pocket and tried to walk as normally as possible to the hotel. I wondered if the man, whom I’d christened with the name Scarface, was watching me from some dark alley. I glanced around cautiously as I walked, but I only saw men stumbling out of saloons or men driving wagons down C Street, but no one’s face fit any of my attackers.

““`

“Back again, Joe?”

“Afternoon, Tom,” I said before climbing the hotel stairs. “Got some business with the lady.” I wanted to ask him if Scarface was registered in this hotel, but I didn’t want Tom to connect the dots and somehow place me in the middle. “Shouldn’t take long,” I said, patting the wad of bills in my pocket. “It’s Ponderosa business.”

I tried to act casual, wanting the nosy hotel manager to think Suzanna was signing papers for Pa or some other ridiculous reason as to why I’d be meeting with the lady again today. If I could just make it through the next few hours, everyone concerned may actually live to see tomorrow.

I’d brought my holster with me and tucked it under the seat of the buggy, hoping Scarface would surrender my gun after our transaction. With my face looking like something the cat dragged in, Pa had been too concerned over my rough appearance to notice the missing Colt.

It was still hours before 8:00, but I wanted to make sure I had plenty of time. Suzanna needed reassurance, and most of all, she needed to know I’d kept my promise. I pressed my hand to my side, stilling the fire as I climbed the stairs. When I tapped on the door, this time, I heard a nervous quietness in Suzanna’s voice.

“Oh, Joe,” she cried, wrapping her arms around me, still trembling, still frightened. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her face mottled, most likely from a long night of worry and tears. I imagined her having the same sleepless night as I, so with my hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward, I led her to the bed and we sat down together, side-by-side.

“I brought the money,” I said, my hand still pressed to her back. “There’s nothing to worry about now.”

This was a different Suzanna, anxious and upset. She took a deep shaky breath, and as she wiped at her eyes with the corner of her lace handkerchief, I sat patiently, not sure what I should say.

“I’m scared, Joe. I wasn’t sure you’d come back.”

I tried my best to comfort her, but the tears still came. “It’s all right,” I said. “He won’t hurt you now. All he wants is the money.”

“I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I thought about trying to sneak out of the hotel, but where would I go? I … I didn’t know what to do.”

I did the best I could to make Suzanna feel safe, but obviously, I wasn’t doing a very good job. I continued rubbing her back, holding her close and wishing I could take away her fears. When she looked up at me, the cuts and bruises, marring a greater part of my face, registered with her and she was quick to comment.

“Oh my God. Your face.” She ran her fingers across the myriad of bruises. “I didn’t realize.   Are you okay?”

“I’ll live. At least he didn’t hurt you. That’s all I care about.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ve only been—”

“What?”

“You should hate me. All I’ve worried about is myself and … and look at you. That man practically killed you.”

I pulled her toward me. She may as well have been roughed up as much as I had; she felt the same pain, but it was her fear of Scarface that frightened her so badly. He frightened me, too, but in just a few hours, this business of handing over the money would be over, and our secret time together would never be revealed. Then, as soon as he was satisfied, he’d leave us alone. Suzanna would be free to take the stage to San Francisco, and I’d be free to get my own life back in order.

As I comforted Suzanna, it suddenly hit me that today was Thursday, and every Thursday for the last month or more, I’d had a standing invitation to supper at the Peterson’s with Jesse and the rest of her family. Jesse would be expecting me, and even as I’d mentioned my dinner plans with Suzanna to Pa this morning, I realized he’d forgotten too. I needed to leave, force another lie, and be back here before eight.

“I need to leave for a while, Suzanna.”

“Leave? Why?”

“There’s something I have to do,” I said, realizing it wasn’t imperative I explained where I was going. “I won’t be long.” She reached for the buttons on my shirt, and I pushed her hand away. “I’m serious, Suzanna. I’ve got an errand I have to run, but I’ll be back before eight. I promise.”

I raced—more like hobbled—out of the hotel, grabbed the buggy from the livery, and drove out to Jesse’s. I would have to explain the bruises just as I had to Pa, but if I got my lies past him, I could fool anyone into believing the beating was nothing more than a simple brawl in the local saloon. Jesse would understand; that’s the kind of girl she was.   She would also forgive me for messing up our Thursday night. I would promise her dinner out tomorrow night—a night on the town—if I could escape back to Suzanna’s tonight.

As I rode into the Peterson’s front yard, Jess’s father greeted me, but he also seemed surprised to see me. “Little Joe?” 

“Hi, Mr. Peterson. Is Jess inside?”

“What happened to you, boy?”

I touched my hand to my swollen jaw. “Just a little mishap in the saloon.”

“Looks awful sore,” he said, sympathetically rubbing his own jaw.

“It’s nothin’.”

After dropping his grease stick back in the bucket, Mr. Peterson crossed his arms and leaned heavily on the top edge of a wagon. He looked at me strangely as he removed his hat and scratched his head through thinning hair. “Jesse left earlier, Little Joe. Said she was riding over to the Ponderosa and would ride back here with you before suppertime.”

“Oh,” I said. “I’ve been in town all afternoon. I didn’t realize …”

“Well, don’t worry, son. She should be back soon, seeing how you weren’t there when she arrived.”

“Actually, I came by to say I couldn’t make supper tonight. Will you give Jesse and Mrs. Peterson my apologies?”

“Certainly.”

“I thought maybe I could take Jess out to dinner tomorrow night … kinda make up for today. Would that be all right with you?”

“That sounds fine. I’ll tell her when she gets back.”

“Thanks, Mr. Peterson. I best be on my way.”

Jess and I hadn’t made plans for her to ride out and meet me, but I also knew how much she liked to race her pony. It was probably just an excuse to get out on that little roan I’d broken myself and given her as a gift a couple of weeks ago. I turned Cochise toward town.

““`

Scarface didn’t knock; he strolled through the door like he owned the place. I stood up from the edge of the bed where I’d been sitting next to Suzanna. Although unnecessary, Suzanna stood up, too. “I see you made it back on time, boy. Do you have what I came for?”

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the notes. “Here,” I said, handing this man most of my hard-earned savings.

“You’re not as stupid as you look.” After fingering the bills I’d just given him, he ran his long, pale finger down the side of Suzanna’s face. “You’re a mighty fine-lookin’ woman, ma’am.”

“Leave her alone,” I said. My body tensed; my hands balled into fists at my sides. Suzanna reached for my arm, holding me back from inadvertently making a very crucial mistake. The man towered over me; his eyes narrowed into tiny slits after he pocketed the money and then crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“You tell the sheriff?”

“No.”

“You tell that papa of yours?”

“No.”

“You’re a good boy, Joseph. I’m proud of you, real proud.”

“You got what you came for now go—leave us alone.” There was a slight tremor in my voice, a scared little boy.

“All right,” he said, patting the money in his shirt pocket. “I must say, it’s been a pleasure doin’ business with you.” He took a step back and grinned. “Till we meet again, Joseph.”

Scarface backed out the door, same as before, and as soon as the latch clicked and the man was out of sight, I released the breath I’d been holding. He’d called me by my given name, which had pretty much caught me off guard and caused me to lose my whole train of thought. I’d planned to ask about my gun. The pearl-handled Colt had been a gift from Pa, a special gift I treasured more than anything else. Just one more lie I’d be forced to tell.

I thought back to the short but unnerving conversation. “I see you made it back on time, boy.” Those were his exact words. Back from where? Had he followed me out to Jesse’s? She’d ridden alone, planning to meet up with me, the man she trusted, the man she loved, and the man, who until now never had a reason to lie.

I started pacing the room then turned to Suzanna. “We need to get you outta this hotel as soon as possible.  Why don’t I run down to the depot … check the schedule for the next stage heading west.”

Suzanna dipped her head, shaking it back and forth.

“What?”

“I can’t go,” she said.

“What do you mean you can’t go?”

She wouldn’t look up, and I studied the way she wrung her hands together on her lap. “I lied to you, Joe.”

“Lied? About what?”

“There’s no aunt waiting for me in San Francisco. There’s no father, who’s a big important judge back home. I lied about everything.”

“Why? Why lie about … are you even from New Orleans?”

“Yes, that part’s true, but I’m afraid that’s the only part. I … I’m sorry, Joe. I wanted you to think I was somebody, but I’m not. I’m nothing. I’m nobody. I had to borrow money to get this far, and when I didn’t have enough for stage fare, I was forced to stay here in Virginia City.”

Tears started again, but I didn’t go to her this time. I continued to pace the room. I’d been taken in by her lies but no, not big brother Adam. He knew right from the start there was something fishy about the whole situation. But did it really matter? Suzanna was still the same loving woman whether her father was an important judge, living in a big fancy house, or no one important at all. I suppose I understood her wanting to make the right impression, even if she had to lie to do so, but I wanted to hear more. I wanted the entire story behind the woman I’d found spellbinding, the woman who’d captivated me and had an undeniable power over me.

“Then tell me why you left home and why you came here to Virginia City.”

She shook her head. “Please, Joe. Don’t ask about my past life. I just wanted to start fresh.”

“So why me? Why did you pick me out of the hundreds of men you could have chosen to escort you around town?”

“When I saw you on the dance floor, I …” Suzanne hesitated before going on, “well, I thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen. So … when a tall, dark-haired gentleman asked me to dance, I got up the nerve to ask if he knew who you were. Funny,” she said, laughingly. “The man I asked turned out to be your brother. I felt so foolish. I’m sure he thought me gauche, and I believe I left him feeling most uncomfortable.

“But in spite of my careless blunder, it was you, Joe,” she said, blushing. “You’re the one I waited for, but like an unnoticed wallflower, you were the only one in that old barn who didn’t ask me to dance.”

This was too much for me to take in all at once. A woman runs away from home for some unknown reason. She picks me out of a crowd of several more eligible men and within days—by chance or not—I end up her lover. Then, out of the blue, some man I’ve never laid eyes on finds out everything there is to know about my exact whereabouts, and who my family is. He enters my life, beats the hell outta me, and threatens to kill everyone I know if I don’t hand over one hundred dollars.

Now, I find I’ve been lied to, and I wonder if there are more lies to come. Given that I’m already consumed with guilt after telling my own countless lies, and worst of all, betraying Jess, I hate myself and everything I stood for just a few days ago. I don’t know if I’m coming or going, but what I do know is this whole charade needs to end.

I considered coming clean with Suzanna. I wanted to tell her about Jess. She needed to know this little fling of ours was over. Instead, I caved. The words didn’t come. She seemed so fragile, practically scared of her own shadow. So, with nowhere to go, no friends or family to help her, I couldn’t live with myself if I ran out on her now.

“I guarantee he won’t be back,” I said, sitting back down beside her. “The man got what he wanted, and he’s gone. It’s over.”

“But how did he know about us?”

I shook my head, leaned forward, rested my elbows on my knees, and sighed. “I wish I knew.”

The room went silent, each of us reflecting on the day’s events. I knew I should start home, although I felt bad leaving Suzanna alone; still, I had no other choice.

“I need to go,” I said, dreading telling her the rest. “I told my father this was our last day together. My brothers have been doing all my chores and Pa, well; I can take advantage for just so long.”

There was no response.

I took hold of her hands. “You look lovely.”

Suzanna started to smile then looked away.

“I’ll miss you.”

“How can I ever thank you for being such a good friend, Joe? You’ve been wonderful … at everything.”

I felt myself blush. “Goodbye, Susanna, and good luck with whatever you decide to do.”

I opened the hotel door and, lying on the floor, was my pearl-handled Colt. I reached down to pick it up and checked to see if it was still loaded. It wasn’t. No surprise there. Suzanna, who stood behind me only moments ago, had crossed the tiny room and stared out the window at the street below. Her shoulders slumped forward as she leaned heavily against the wooden frame.

“He’ll always be out there,” she mumbled softly as she ran her fingertip down the window, tracing a single raindrop as it made its way down the darkened pane of glass. “Will I ever see you again, Joe?”

I answered her matter-of-factly, not really thinking. “Sure, you will,” I said, knowing as soon as the words came out, I’d told another lie.

“The girl I saw you with at the dance … are you in love with her?”

“Yes,” I said, softly. I’m in love with Jess but at the same time, I’m making love to you.

Suzanna knew our time together was over. I might see her in passing, but there was no way we could continue as we had the past couple of days. As she turned back to the window, I knew I had to explain more.

“I should have been straight with you from the beginning,” I said. “I should have had more sense than to take you in my arms that first day. It was wrong. I know that, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you, but it’s time we went our separate ways.”

I thought I could stay strong. I thought I was a better man, but even after my full-blown confession about Jesse, I failed at being the well-brought-up son of Ben Cartwright. I failed everyone I cared for. I’d told countless lies just so I could lie beside this woman.

With the shade now pulled to the sill, concealing us from any outsiders, I pleasured Suzanna one last time in untraditional but satisfying ways. It was when she saw the strips Hop Sing had used to bind my ribs and the bruising and the swelling below my waist that tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t touch me. The pain would be insufferable. She held me and kissed me and whispered all the little things a man longs to hear.

““`

I was practically asleep before my head hit the pillow. I’d walked through the front door, but no one had waited up this time. After I blew out the lamp Pa had left burning on his desk, I fell straight into bed. The next thing I remember was Hoss tapping at my door and telling me breakfast was on the table. Finally, I had a decent night’s sleep.

“So, can we count on you today, Little Joe? Me and Adam’s gettin’ mighty put out, havin’ to do all your chores.”

I looked up, giving Hoss a half-smile. He didn’t waste time giving me the business once we all sat down to eat.

“When is the young lady leaving town, Joseph?” Pa asked.

“I’m not sure. Soon, I think.”

“You think?” Adam said.

Even though I had no reason to be cross with my know-it-all brother, I glared at him for no reason other than being upset with myself. “That’s what I said, Adam.”

“You mean she didn’t ask you to entertain her again today?”

I sighed. “No. If you must know, I’m not entertaining her again today.”

“That’s enough, boys. We have plenty of work that needs doing so let’s not start the day off with an argument. “Adam?” Pa said. “I need you to go to town. “Joe, Hoss, I want the two of you to ride out and check the herd.”

I looked down intentionally, studying my plate. If Pa had sent Adam to town on Monday instead of me, I wouldn’t be in the fix I’m in now. I had promised Suzanna I’d stop by at some point just to make sure she was okay, but deep down, I knew exactly what would happen the minute I stepped through her door. I’d need an excuse to go to town—something that didn’t include my brothers. I was tired of this whole business. Lies and deceptions; that’s all my life had become.

Hoss and I rode out after breakfast. Our job was to chase down strays, making sure mama and baby were together and not separated by a section of broken fence. As much as I wanted to talk to Hoss; to spill my guts and tell him everything that had happened this week, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. He’d expect me to tell Pa, and I wasn’t willing to go that far. I longed for easy conversation, and I longed to find comfort in this rock-hard saddle, still feeling the pain between my legs.

“Hoss?”

“What?”

I changed my mind. “Nothin’.”

The words didn’t come. The ease I’d always known wasn’t there. I missed my brother. I missed his company. Hoss and I were close; in fact, closer than anyone else I knew. I wanted to tell him at least part of the story, but I couldn’t get the words out. Telling him would mean betraying him, too. How could his little brother even think of taking Suzanna as a lover? Explain these things to Hoss? Not today—not ever.

Hoss never understood how I’d felt about Julia Bulette. No one did until it was too late. The only difference between Hoss and me was women and how differently we reacted when a female entered our lives. This affair with Suzanna would only drive us further apart.

“Somethin’s botherin’ ya. You ain’t been yourself all day … all week for that matter.”

“It’s nothing. Just forget I said anything.”

“Adam and me was talkin’ about you yesterday and—”

“What about Adam?” I could already feel my temper rise. “What’d he have to say?”

“I don’t know, Little Joe. Guess he’s worried about ya, that’s all.”

“Why? Why’s he worried about me?”

“Aw, Joe … you know Adam,” he said, hesitantly. “He don’t trust no one.”

“Meaning me?” I could tell this was killing Hoss, having to act as the go-between, but why Adam had to butt into my business was beyond me.

“It ain’t that … it’s that woman, that woman you been showin’ ‘round all week.”

“What about her?”

“Like he said before. He don’t trust her.”

What did he mean by not trusting Suzanna? What did Adam know about anything? All he knew for certain was that she asked about me at some stupid dance, so how did he work out this whole scenario about trust? She didn’t force me to show her around. She didn’t force me to do anything I wasn’t willing to do.

“Well, next time Adam says anything about me or Suzanna, tell him to mind his own business. He doesn’t know anything about her,” I said. “I don’t know why he’s fillin’ your head with lies.”

Hoss gave me a strange look as if nothing I’d said made sense.

“Let’s go,” I said. I kicked Cochise and started toward home. Hoss followed, but after we arrived and as we stood in the barn grooming our mounts, he just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“What’s eatin’ ya, Little Joe? Why are you so touchy about that lady?”

With my brush still in my hand, I rested my arms across Cochise’s back. “Suzanna is a nice lady. All I did was show her around the ranch and some of Virginia City. I don’t know why Adam thinks there’s more to it than that.”

“I never said he did, Joe. All I said was—”

“Just forget it.”

I started toward the house. Hoss ran to catch up and draped his arm across my shoulder, which only made me feel worse. I was tired of telling only half-truths, and today, I’d taken all my frustrations out on him. What kind of idiot brother does that? He was only being my friend—my best friend—and I’d treated him far worse than he deserved.

“I’m sorry, Hoss,” I said.

“For what?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been a grump all day.”

Hoss patted my shoulder before he opened the front door. “You just need a good night’s sleep, little brother. Don’t worry about ol’ Adam. I never shoulda said nothin’. It’s all my fault anyhow for bringin’ it up.”

~~~

After explaining to Pa how I’d messed up and missed supper with Jesse, I realized he already knew.   If he’d said anything …

“Jesse rode over here late yesterday afternoon, Joe.” My jaw dropped. “Don’t worry, son,” Pa said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “I only mentioned you were in town, nothing more.”

Relief washed over me as if the Lord himself had graced me with a chance to redeem myself. “Thanks, Pa. I owe you one.”

“Is there something else I should have told her?”

“What? No, but you know women.” Pa gave me an odd look. Had I said the wrong thing? Had I given something away? “Jesse means the world to me. You know that. I just don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

After cleaning up and running some of Pa’s Bay Rum through my hair, I drove the buggy to the Peterson’s. Jesse was standing out front, and as I caught sight of her, she raised her hand and waved. Wearing her blue checked dress, she wore a matching blue ribbon, tying back her golden, blonde hair at the nape of her neck.

It didn’t help that my face was still a wide range of colors, although I assured Jess it was nothing after she came running down the steps to meet me. She told me her father had mentioned I’d been in a fight, but she had no idea how bad I’d been hurt. She accepted my explanation because it was me, and because I’d never lied to her before, therefore, she had no reason to think otherwise. I felt undeserving of a girl like her. I wanted everything back to normal, back to our Sunday afternoon picnics and Thursday night suppers. It was up to me to make sure that happened, and Jess wasn’t hurt in the process.

“Ready to go?” I asked. “I told your Pa I’d take you out to dinner tonight since I messed things up last night.”

“Yes, he told me, and yes, I’d love that, Joe. Give me a minute to tell my folks we’re leaving.”

Johnny, Jesse’s younger brother, came running out just as she was heading back inside. “Hi, Little Joe,” he hollered, still running until I grabbed hold of his arm and swung him around to a full stop.

“Hey, slow down,” I said.

“Where was you last night, Little Joe?”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. I was busy in town.”

“I missed you somethin’ awful,” he said. “I had to play checkers with Papa, and he never lets me win.”

“What? You think I let you win? Not a chance, big fella.”

“Really? Never?”

“You beat me fair and square.”

For a nine-year-old, the kid was pretty smart except when it came to checkers. I’d feel bad if I beat him every time. He was the spittin’ image of Jess, who, in turn, looked just like their ma. Since I never looked like anyone in my family, I found it amusing, watching the two of them together. Of course, like my brothers and me, they, too, had disagreements. I guess it was only natural. There were times I saw the same traits in Jesse I saw in Adam, big sister bossing around little brother. To me, it seemed funny, to Johnny, probably not.

“Where would you like to go?” I asked Jess when she returned. The Petersons only lived a short distance from town, but as soon as we were out on the open road—no parents and no townsfolk to consider—Jesse scooted closer to me and slid her arm through mine.

“I don’t care,” she said. “How about Miss Daisy’s?”

“You sure? I was thinking somewhere fancier. I owe you after last night.”

“Is that why you’re all spit-shined and lookin’ so fancy?”

Jesse squeezed my arm tighter. I always knew when she was joking with me, and I turned and kissed her on the cheek. “I wanted to look halfway decent for my best girl.”

“Okay,” she said, sitting up taller. “You pick.”

“All right. The International House.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wondered what the hell I was thinking. If Suzanna came down for dinner, I was a dead man.

“Really?”

“You know what? On second thought, the last time I was there with Pa and my brothers the steaks we ordered were … well, not so good. You were right. Miss Daisy’s is perfect.”

Daisy greeted us as soon as we walked through the door; the little bell jingling and alerting her to the comings and goings of her evening patrons. I’d never been inside her place at night, and it took on a completely different atmosphere. With lamps turned low and little candles on each table, the small café seemed quite romantic after all.

“Good choice,” I whispered to Jesse as Daisy led us to our table.

Each of us ordered the special, and while we waited for our meal, Miss Daisy brought us each a complimentary glass of wine. “I hear this is all the rage in some of those fancy restaurants in San Francisco, Little Joe.”

“Thanks, Daisy,” I said, raising my glass. “But won’t you go broke handing out free wine?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, tilting her head down toward Jess and me. “I don’t offer such amenities free to everyone.”

As Daisy scooted back to the kitchen, Jesse and I both shared a laugh. “You’ve always been her favorite customer, Joe.”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Daisy and I go way back.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, when I was a little kid, there were times Daisy used to watch over me and Hoss.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, sometimes in the dead of winter, if we had an unexpected storm while we were in school, there was no way for my brother and me to ride home. So, Pa had made prior arrangements for us to go straight to Miss Daisy’s after school let out. Back then, she didn’t own a cafe, but Pa didn’t worry; he knew we were safe at her little house on the side of the mountain.”

Jesse nodded her head. “Right smart idea if you ask me.”

“Miss Daisy fussed over Hoss and me just like any ma would; you know, fed us and tucked us in at night, just like we were her own. She’d sit down on the edge of the bed and tell the wildest stories—never scary stories but funny ones—usually about her customers or something that happened in town. I remember Hoss laughing all the time. I was too little and mostly, I didn’t understand the punchline, but after hearing Hoss laugh, I’d always laugh too.”

“You still do that, Joe.”

“At least I understand the punch lines now, but you’re right. Once Hoss lets out that loud bellow of his, no one can hold back.”

Jesse and I ate and laughed through supper, and it didn’t take long before I realized how much I missed being with her and how much I truly loved her. Maybe someday I would tell her what a fool I’d been, but I think matters such as these past few days are best left unsaid, maybe forever.

““`

“Ready?” I said after we’d cleaned our plates and eaten dessert.

“Ready when you are.”

I left Daisy a generous tip, enough to cover the cost of our complimentary wine, and we were off. Not wanting to stable the horse just to eat supper, the buggy was ready and waiting outside the front door. After I helped Jess up, wishing our night would never end, I happened to look up, and there he stood—Scarface—lurking in the shadows, leaning against an upright post across the street. He slowly scraped the point of his knife under his fingernails, watching me, watching Jess.

When he tipped his hat, my stomach lurched at the sight of the man who’d beat me and taken my money. The man frightened me, maybe more than any man ever had before. Maybe because he’d caught me off guard or maybe it was just his size that led me to believe I was no match. I couldn’t let on to Jesse, and I couldn’t honestly say I’d be able to protect her from a man like him. I kept my eyes forward, not giving him the satisfaction of a second glance, then cracked the horse’s rump with the reins. We were out of town in seconds. I didn’t look back; I kept up the frantic pace until Jesse grabbed and pulled on my arm.

“What’s your hurry, Joe? Is something wrong?”

My heart pounded in time with the horse’s hooves as he ran full-steam-ahead down the main road.

“Joe? Joe!”

“What?” My voice was too loud, too forceful.

“I asked if you were all right.”

I slowed the horse after becoming conscious of just how fast we’d been going. There wasn’t much of a moon, lighting our way, and I could understand Jesse’s fears since I’d flown out of town like a madman. “I’m sorry.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Jess. I just felt like giving Star a good run.”

“You’re sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Absolutely.”

But things were terribly wrong. I’d paid the man off. No questions asked. I did exactly as I was told. No sheriff. No family members. So why? Why was he still hanging around town, hiding in the shadows, watching my every move?

I dropped Jesse off at home and walked her up the stairs to the front door. When she asked me to come in and play games like we usually did after supper, I declined the offer. “I’m beat, Jess,” I said. I pulled off my hat and raked my hand nervously through my hair. “I’m sorry, but I’ve had a lot on my mind. The ranch has kept us all really busy this week.”

“Okay,” she said.

There was disappointment in her voice. I took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face me directly. “I really am tired. Picnic Sunday?” I asked, hoping to get us back on track.

“Sure, if you have time.”

I pulled her toward me and wrapped my arms around her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I whispered in her ear, but Jess pushed herself away from me. I tried to read the signs. I wasn’t sure if she was mad or disappointed, I’d cut our night short.

“I’ll see you Sunday, Joe.”

I stood on the front porch after she’d closed the door behind her. I heard voices from inside the house, greetings and questions, and pauses of silence. I was miserable, and if I’d done anything to hurt Jess and damaged what we had together, how would I face her? How would I tell her the truth and that those couple of days meant nothing at all?

After I put the buggy away and settled the horse for the night, I headed into the house. Pa, Hoss, and Adam all looked up in surprise. “You’re home early, son.”

“Yeah … guess so.”

“Anything wrong,” Pa asked.

“No. Jess and I had dinner at Daisy’s, and I came on home.”

I loosened my gunbelt, removed my hat and jacket, and plopped down on the settee. “What?” I said, realizing everyone was still staring.

“Just ain’t like you to come home early when you’re out with some gal, Little Joe.”

“She ain’t just some gal, Hoss.”

Adam closed his book and looked up. “What is she then?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I don’t know, little brother. It seems to me you’ve got yourself mixed up with two gals.”

“I ain’t mixed up with anyone but Jess so just leave me alone.”

I glanced at Pa, knowing I was being ill-mannered and disrespectful. I waited for my father to put in his two cents, but he sat quietly, listening to the banter and ultimately foregoing any comment he might have made.

“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“Son?”

Oh boy, here it comes. I hesitated at the base of the stairs.

“Get a good night’s rest. We’ve got a long, hard day tomorrow.”

“’Nite, Pa.”

““`

Another sleepless night was nothing new; only my mind wasn’t on Suzanna or Scarface, it was Jess who kept me awake. She could sense something was wrong. I never intended to hurt her, but I already had. She wasn’t stupid; she could see right through me, and by the time I sat down to breakfast the next morning, my unpleasant mood and defiant temperament were no better off than the night before.

“I’ve hired a new man, Joe,” Pa said.

“A new man? Why?”

“Cuz you ain’t never ‘round no more,” Hoss said, starting to laugh until Pa gave him a cursory look.

“Adam hired him,” Pa said. “He had references from John Willow’s place down in Tucson. Your brothers and I thought we could use another good hand before we tried to move the herd.”

I nodded. There was some truth in what Hoss said, even if it had only been a couple of days.

“I’ve asked him to ride out with you and Hoss today. Maybe you can finish up down in the south pasture.”

“You better have Hop Sing pack an extra-large lunch,” Adam said. “I bet that new man can out-eat you, Hoss.”

“We’ll see about that,” Hoss said, stabbing his fork into a hefty stack of pancakes.

““`

“Why don’t you saddle up them horses, and I’ll go get Hank,” Hoss said as we walked toward the barn.

“Right.”

While Hoss headed for the bunkhouse, I did as he’d asked, but before I led our mounts out of the barn, I leaned down to tie the rawhide around my thigh. When I stood up and reached for the reins, there he was. Scarface stood outside the barn door, knees locked and hands sunk deep in his pants pocket, rocking back and forth on his heels as the early morning sun highlighted the jagged scar on his face.

“Joe?” Hoss called out. “This here’s Hank Quinn, our new hand.”

Scarface raised his hand to tip his hat, then with Hoss’ back to him, he closed one eye and pointed his finger—shaped like a gun—at Hoss’s back.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Hoss seemed confused. His eyes narrowed when I failed to acknowledge the new man, but he shook it off and grabbed Chub’s reins anyway. The three of us rode out together.

It’s a dang good thing I could sit a horse without giving it any thought. With my mind racing in a hundred different directions, it wouldn’t take long before Hoss accused me of being dreamy-eyed again. Scarface rode alongside me, forcing any act of bravado to rapidly disappear. My brother’s life was in danger; I had to stay calm and not let this nervous tension get the better of me. I’d paid the guy off. I’d kept my word, so why hadn’t he? It didn’t take a genius to realize he was up to something, and it was obvious whatever he had brewing in that sick mind of his could prove devastating to anyone involved.

The moment I’d dreaded all morning eventually came. Hoss was wedged knee-deep in the mud, hauling a calf out of a foul-smelling pit, when Scarface pulled his mount up next to mine and in a quiet voice, he made a new demand. “A hundred,” he said.

“A hundred what?”

“Dollars, my friend. Seems I’ve already run short of cash.”

“You’re crazy,” I said, louder than I should have.

“Am I?”

“I don’t have another hundred.” Quickly, I glanced toward Hoss, hoping he hadn’t overheard my outburst.

“Papa does,” he said, leaning back in the saddle.

“Leave my family outta this.”

“You wanna pick who goes first or should I?”

I tensed in the saddle when Scarface pulled the knife from its sheath and began digging at the grime under his nails. Again, I glanced at Hoss, hoping he’d holler for help so I could free myself from this man, and this insane request for more money.

“Maybe that big, fat brother of yours will help you out some?”

“I won’t say it again. Leave my family outta this.”

“I’m sorry, kid, but you don’t make the rules. That’s my job, not yours.”

“I already told you. I can’t get my hands on any more money.”

“Maybe I should visit that little sweetheart of yours, Joseph,” he said, making my name sound as dirty as the mud hole Hoss was standing in. “She’s a mighty pretty young lady, Jesse, right? Pretty blonde hair … soft, touchable skin. Maybe I should make a woman of her. Have you made her a woman yet, Joseph? Is she as accomplished as the lovely Suzanna?”

“Stop it! If I catch you within ten miles of—”

“What? What’ll you do?” He held the knife up in front of him, letting the sun reflect off its shiny, metal blade.

“I could sure use some help over here,” Hoss yelled.

Scarface slowly scraped the blade up his neck and under his own chin. Without another word spoken, I got the message.

“Tomorrow, Joseph.”

The man was crazy. If I delivered, he’d only want more, and unless I robbed a bank or held my father at gunpoint, I’d never get my hands on another hundred dollars.

““`

I told Hoss to go on in the house; I’d stable the horses since he’d been up to his knees in mud. When the job was done, Scarface had ridden into town, and for the first time today, I could breathe easy. Although I had trouble keeping my mind on the task at hand, I swiped the brush across Cochise’s rump. I’d taken care of Chub first, and after placing the brush on the side of the stall, I ran my hand slowly through Cochise’s mane.

With my back to the barn door, I didn’t realize Hoss had come back outside. When he rested his hand on my shoulder, I jumped, pulled my Colt, and aimed the gun straight at his belly.

Hoss raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, Joe, easy there, boy.”

I was far from the image of a gunslinger—a man who was steady on his feet and had nerves of steel—I was strung out and scared, but rather than shoot my own brother, I took a deep breath, lowered my gun and leaned back, exhausted, against the side of my horse. I jammed my gun in the holster and started to walk away.

“Joe?”

I couldn’t look back at my brother but at the same time, I stopped moving forward. I was in deep, and I couldn’t keep all the secrets to myself any longer. “I’m in trouble, Hoss.”

““`

Hoss stepped forward. “What kinda trouble?”

“Big trouble,” I said, turning back around and making sure he understood.

“Maybe you should be talkin’ to Pa ‘stead of me.”

“I can’t, Hoss. I can’t tell Pa.”

“Okay. Then tell ol’ Hoss.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Yeah, you do. The beginning.”

Hoss found a couple of milking stools, and we sat down while I decided where the beginning should be. This was going to be difficult for Hoss to hear, but as much as I needed to talk things out, I would spare him the most intimate details.

“Well,” I said, rubbing my palms together as I rested my elbows on my knees. “It all started at the dance last Saturday night …”

By the time I finished my account of the previous week, Hoss was pacing the barn like a caged animal. I’d said too much. I’d told him nearly everything about Suzanna and me and about having to give Scarface the $100. But in the end, I wasn’t completely truthful. I never mentioned that he or Pa or Adam were in danger, only Suzanna. The look on his face had grown darker with each word I’d said, and it was the embarrassment I felt over my wrongdoings that had made me hedge on telling the entire truth.

I couldn’t tell if Hoss was mad or disappointed or scared—maybe all three. I should have kept my mouth shut, and I should have figured out a way to come up with the next payment on my own. To keep my secret life hidden, I’d paid the money, not realizing at the time it was merely the first installment. I’d been naïve not to recognize that this was the way blackmail worked. Every day or every week, I’d be hit up for more and more cash.

Since I’d upset my father for weeks over my affair with Julia Bulette, this time I’d chosen Hoss to plead my case. Before Pa finally realized how much I loved Julia Bulette, he was under the impression she was using me to get back at him, and as it turned out, it wasn’t the case at all. It was genuine love between two people—much more than a simple affair. I wasn’t about to disappoint my father over my actions this time, not with Suzanna, not over basic primal wants and needs. Not when my heart belonged to Jesse.

So it was Hoss who took on the burden of knowing, but his total silence unnerved me. This wasn’t like Hoss at all. We’d always been able to work things out, but this time, there were no words, not even a look my way. Maybe he was too mad to say anything. Maybe he hated me. I hated myself, so why shouldn’t he?

“You gotta tell Pa, Joseph.”

Before it even registered what he’d said, my brother had left the barn. I thought I’d feel better, telling, but after the story was out in the open, nothing had changed and I felt worse than I had since the whole mess began.

““`

Scarface had spent the day as a hired hand. He knew the distinct markings of my horse, so I saddled a different mount, a roan much like Jesse’s and after my conversation with Hoss, I rode into town. I would see Suzanna and tell her I couldn’t protect her from the likes of Hank Quinn. If it was money she needed, I would give her every penny I owned for stage fare to San Francisco. Our affair was over. I couldn’t play games anymore. I wanted her safe and out of my life forever. This was the only way I knew how to accomplish both.

I rode hard, straight to the International House, left the roan outside, and climbed the outer stairs to the front door. “Came to see the lady, Tom.”

“She’s not in her room, Little Joe.”

I turned back to Tom, who stared at me with a disconcerting look on his face. “Do you know where she is?”

“I believe she’s stepped into the dining room for dinner.”

Sure, she had. The woman had to eat. Thank God I hadn’t brought Jesse here last night. “Thanks, Tom.”

“Little Joe?”

“Yeah?”

“Um, the lady has a … well, she has another companion tonight.”

“Companion?”

“You know … she’s dining with someone else.”

“Oh, right.”

I tried to act casual, after all, I’d led Tom to believe it was Ponderosa business that had brought us together, but who did Suzanna know besides me? She told me . . . what had she told me? Did I only assume I was the only person she knew in Virginia City? I walked toward the dining room and stood behind the heavy, velvet drapes that separated the two rooms. I scanned the tables until I found Suzanna sitting with a man I didn’t recognize. Her back was to me and as I studied the man’s face, nothing registered. He was a stranger to me. What would I do now? Wait? Have a beer? I headed for the Bucket of Blood.

I stood, leaning against the bar. By now I realized my unplanned flight to town had been a mistake. I felt like a stranger in a bar I’d been in a hundred times before. Scarface could be anywhere, and here I stood with no backup, not a friend or brother in sight. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, so I downed my beer and walked out through the batwing doors. But, before I could loosen the reins I’d tied to the hitch-rail, the barrel of a gun pressed firmly into the small of my back. “Alley, boy.”

I raised my hands, indicating I’d do as this man asked and not try anything foolish, but he pulled my gun from its holster anyway. I walked toward the alley, feeling the barrel press hard against the small of my back. I didn’t recognize the voice, and when I turned the corner and entered the alley, there he stood.

“Joseph, m’boy,” he said as though we’d become fast friends. “Good to see you.”

“Sorry I can’t say the same,” I said, lowering my arms to my sides. “What do you want now?”

“Seems you’ve forgotten who’s in charge, Joseph.”

“Who’s your friend?”

Scarface pulled his 6” knife and scraped it back and forth across his bare arm as if sharpening the blade against a stretch of leather. His voice remained silent, choosing not to answer my question. He towered over me and now, with an accomplice, I was reduced to standing in a dark alleyway with no chance of escape. “So what happens now?”

Scarface sheathed his knife, trading it for a foot-long iron bar, like drill bits used in the mines. He began hammering it against the palm of his hand. “It’s about the next hundred, Joseph. Have you talked to Papa yet?”

“Never intended to,” I said. The gun jammed harder against my back, causing me to stumble forward.

“Maybe the boy needs a little persuading,” said the man holding the gun.

The hammer clicked, but I knew he wouldn’t shoot, not until money changed hands. “You gonna kill me? Is that the plan?”

Scarface raised the iron bar parallel to his shoulder and slammed it against my thigh, pitching me sideways into the brick wall. Before I could catch my breath, he nailed me across the back, leveling me, forcing me to cry out before I dropped to the ground. When I raised myself on all fours, the iron bar came crashing across my shoulders harder this time than before. He’d done the job well; I couldn’t begin to move.

I was rolled to my back, and a sour-tasting piece of laundry was shoved inside my mouth. The unknown man straddled me; his knees were locked, and a boot was planted on either side of my chest. I lay helpless, my arms splayed straight out to my sides in the dirt.

“Not quite done yet, Joseph,” Scarface said as he knelt down on the ground beside me.

My breathing was labored and shallow. I could smell, almost taste, his beer-soaked breath and the strong smell of stale tobacco that lingered on his clothes.

I turned my head away, and he was quick to grab my face, pressing his fingers tightly to my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. My eyes grew wide when I saw he held a metal needle in his free hand. “Just an added bonus between friends.”

When I began to squirm—when I tried to fight evil—the gunman pressed his foot to my belly, nearly cutting off my air. My screams were muted behind the gag, only a gurgling sound escaped. Scarface smiled and rolled up the sleeve of my shirt and, as I continued to struggle, the heel of the gunman’s boot dug deeper into my belly. “I’ll fix him,” he said, tapping the iron bar rhythmically against the side of his leg.

“Patience, Junior, patience.”

Saliva slipped from the corners of my mouth as I worked my tongue furiously against the foul-tasting rag. Scarface ran the tip of the needle down the side of my face, smiling at my reaction and the fear he saw in my eyes.

“Enjoy your evening, Joseph. All the boys do.”

He plunged the needle deep into the crook of my arm, and I squeezed my eyes tight at the initial jab. I’d never know what in God’s name he forced into me or whether I’d even survive the night. My head nearly exploded, but in no time, I felt drained and lifeless, although awake, there was a sense of calm I’d never experienced until now. A warm glow filled my insides, and when the gag was removed, I stared without moving.

Scarface said something about my father before the iron bar was wedged tightly under my chin, forcing my head harder into the dirt and completely robbing me of air. “This isn’t a game, Joseph. I expect the money tomorrow or Papa dies.”

~~~

I’ll never know how long I lay on the ground before my body began to respond. I was slow to react, slow to figure out my surroundings, and I felt as helpless as a newborn calf. The night air was cool against my skin, although sweat beaded on my forehead, and my heart pounded faster as I positioned myself on one elbow and saw the gag lying on the ground beside me.

I tried to sit up and before I could get better situated, my stomach turned on me, repeating spasms of dry heaves and leaving me feeling weaker than before. What the hell? How much did I drink in the bar? Then it all came back, both men holding me down and going at me with the lead pipe. Drained from the effort to stand up, I fell back to the ground.

My eyesight was unclear, and I felt limp and confused and had to use the wall for support, crawling, hand over hand, following the line of bricks, until I made it to the edge of the building and looked down the street for Cochise. But it was the roan I’d ridden, and she stood just a few feet away.

I started back home, and when we reached the main house, I was lying in the saddle with my arms draped around her neck. I heard footsteps running toward me, but I didn’t have the strength to dismount, and I fell from the saddle, landing hard.

“Hoss!” Pa yelled. “Hoss!”

It was my brother who carried me upstairs and lowered me onto my bed. Pa was tugging at my boots as Adam unfastened my gunbelt.

“Want me to ride for the doc?” Hoss asked

“I’m … fine,” I moaned, trying to find my voice.

I felt the bed dip when Pa sat down next to me. “What happened, son?”

“Nothing,” I said. “The horse … horse lost … footing. Tripped. I fell … just sore is all.”

“Joseph—”

“Sore, Pa … fine by morning.”

“It is morning, son.”

“Oh …”

“Help me get him undressed, boys.”

“Pa … please.” My eyes were closed, but I heard Pa sigh. I hoped I’d been convincing; I wasn’t sure. “It’s nothing,” I repeated.

“All right then. You get some sleep.”

“But, Pa—”

“Come on, Hoss. Let your brother rest.”

Relief washed over me when I heard my bedroom door close, and I rolled onto my stomach, taking pressure off my back and shoulders. I couldn’t think. I was in trouble, but I couldn’t get my mind around what had happened. I fell asleep.

““`

I woke from a timeless sleep, thinking back on the bizarre and frightening dreams I assumed were caused by the drug. I could only hope whatever Scarface had shot into me had run its course and there’d be no trace or lingering effects. My emotions were getting the best of me, and I just wanted to escape back into the world I knew a week ago, not the world of chaos I was living in now. I wanted to smile again and not have to watch my back.

Pa walked into my room, set two cups of coffee on my table, and pulled a chair up close to the bed. “Think you can sit up?”

I didn’t know if I could move at all much less sit up but in front of Pa, I would make my movements seem effortless. I pushed myself up, suppressed a moan, and lowered my stocking feet over the side of the bed. He handed me the coffee, no cream, no sugar, but I drank it anyway. “Thanks.”

Pa leaned back in the chair and sipped his own. He was waiting for an explanation—one I didn’t want to give—and moreover, he didn’t want a repeat of the one I’d given him last night. We sat in silence until both of us held empty cups in our hands.

I looked up at my father. I expected to see … I’m not sure what I expected. Mad? Upset with his lying son? Had Hoss blabbed everything or not?

“I ….”

Oh God, where would I start? What would Pa think of his baby son if I told him the truth?

“I um … I haven’t been exactly honest, Pa.”

“Well, I figured as much, Joseph.”

I turned my head from my father so I wouldn’t see the look on his face. How could I explain a week, which, at the beginning, offered such intimate pleasure, but in turn took on the existence of a living hell?

“Maybe it would help to talk it all out.”

I took a deep breath and felt every muscle in my body revolt. “I’m in trouble, Pa,” I said, gazing at my feet. “More trouble than I know what to do with.” I glanced up quickly then down again.

“Does it have to do with the young lady you’ve been seeing this week?”

“Suzanna?”

“Suzanna,” Pa repeated.

“It started with her, Pa, but she’s not the problem. She’s not responsible.”

“Oh?”

I shook my head. “It’s the new man you hired.”

“You mean Quinn?”

I nodded.

“What’s he got to do with this?”

“He … um … found the two of us together in her hotel room,” I said with a quick glance at Pa. “He … he threatened to kill her if I didn’t pay him a hundred dollars. Without going into detail, I’m sure Pa understood exactly what I meant although, for the time being, he kept his thoughts to himself.

“And?”

“I was embarrassed. I didn’t want you … so I paid him off. But now he wants more money, money I don’t have to give.”

Pa remained silent.

“That’s not exactly all. He said he’d kill you and Hoss and Adam too if I didn’t pay up. I have till today to pay him another hundred.”

“Joe,” Pa said, leaning forward in the chair. “Why didn’t you come to me earlier?”

“You know why.”

Pa sighed overloud. “Okay. You made a mistake, but we’re your family, Joe, and you know what needs to be done.   We have to involve the law and let Roy Coffee handle this from here on out.”

“I promised I wouldn’t go to the sheriff,” I said, raising my head and pleading. “You don’t know this man like I do.”

“He’s the one who beat you last night?”

I reacted with a slight shudder. “Yeah.”

“Is he the one who beat you before?”

I nodded.

“You’re not alone now, son,” Pa said, resting his hand on my knee. “We’ll let Roy take charge—let him handle this man—and if need be, we’ll fight him together, you, me, Hoss and Adam. We’re all behind you, Joseph. There may not have been beatings at all if you’d come to us sooner.”

““`

There was no sign Hank Quinn had ever been a hired hand. Pa had Hoss check the barn and the bunkhouse and he was nowhere in sight. He’d only signed on for a day, just to show me it could be done, just to show me how easily he could gain access to my family.

The four of us rode into Virginia City together and straight to Roy’s office. I told my story, mainly how I’d explained it to Pa and leaving out the more personal details involving Suzanna. Knowing Scarface, he’d seen us ride into town and he’d be on high alert, realizing I’d broken the code of silence.

Roy saw a second side to the story. “Were there eyewitnesses to this blackmail,” Little Joe?”

I couldn’t involve Suzanna and my reply was no. “No, sir.

“Then who’s to say you didn’t hand this Quinn fella the money willingly? Who says money exchanged hands at all? It’s your word against his, son, and that ain’t gonna hold up in a court of law.”

“What about the next hundred?” Pa demanded. “Quinn nearly killed Joseph last night when he didn’t bring the money.”

“Blackmail’s tough, Ben. If Joe was in the act of paying the man, maybe we could make it stick, but I ain’t real sure we got a case no matter how you look at things.” Roy turned and walked toward his desk. “Now, I can arrest him for assault if Little Joe wants to press charges.”

Pa pushed his hat to the back of his head and glared and Roy Coffee.

“I suggest you all stay close to Little Joe. If this man tries anything, well …”

“Well, what, Roy?” Pa was livid. “Take the law into our own hands?”

“Um … Pa?”

“What!”

Pa’s reaction blasted through the tiny office. It was filled with heat and anger, possibly at me, but more at the situation we all found ourselves in.

“I need to stop by the hotel and check on Suzanna.”

“Oh, that’s just great, Joseph. Run off and get yourself killed over that woman.”

I looked over at Hoss and Adam for help. I hadn’t told Adam the story, but I’m sure Hoss or Pa had filled him in long before we rode into town.

“We’ll go with him, Pa,” Adam said. “We won’t be long.”

I nodded a quick thank you to Adam, and we started out the door. “Don’t you lose sight of your brother, you hear?”

“We won’t, Pa.”

““`

With a brother hovering closely at each shoulder, we marched down the boardwalk to the hotel, and I could just imagine what was going through Adam’s mind. But this wasn’t time for a discussion on how I should live my life according to big brother’s standards although I knew he was dying to tell me.

As usual, Tom stood behind the desk. “Need to see the lady,” I said before turning to my brothers. “Wait right here. I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

“Little Joe,” Hoss cautioned. “That ain’t what Pa had in mind.”

Adam took hold of Hoss’ arm. “We’ll wait here.”

I squared my shoulders and walked up the stairs. Maybe squared wasn’t the right word. Scarface had slammed the iron bar down hard on my left shoulder, leaving my arm nearly paralyzed and useless. I was in sad shape, and everyone knew I couldn’t take care of myself or defend myself if matters of dire consequences arose.

I tapped on Suzanna’s door. She was quick to unlock the bolt, but it was Scarface who opened the door. He held his gun in front of him and smiled. He invited me inside.

“Where’s Suzanna?”

“That’s no concern of yours,” he said. “You bring the money?”

“I told you I don’t have any more money.”

“You lied to me, Joseph. Now the lady pays with her life.” His gun kept me from reacting as he pulled mine from its holster and tossed it on the bed. “Let’s go.” He backed me out the hotel door.

Scarface had our escape all planned out. He was that certain I’d show up at Suzanna’s. The back stairs, a horse waiting, rope to tie my hands, and before Hoss and Adam suspected a thing, we were clean out of town.

We rode south for a couple of miles then he stopped the horses. I was blindfolded and a rope—more like a noose—had been placed around my neck and held taut by my tormenter as we rode. After a few uneasy miles, while I tried to keep upright in the saddle, we stopped a second time and before I was ordered to dismount, although I couldn’t see, I heard a rustling sound like leaves or maybe dead tree branches.

There were no words spoken, and with my hands still tied and my blindfold still in place, I was pulled along like a mule, barely able to keep up with the pace Scarface had set. I could smell and feel the dampness; I suspected a cave or a mine as I stumbled forward over loose rock and scattered debris. When I tripped and fell to my knees, he wasted no time jerking the rope and pulling me back to my feet. Even though the sun blazed hot as we rode, I could now feel the chill of darkness.

My skin felt clammy and cool as we followed a rocky trail deeper into the cave, turning left, left again then right. If I was ever going to escape, I had to remember the way out and not lose my way through various tunnels leading nowhere.

We reached our destination, and with the rope still taut under my chin, Scarface shoved me forward, slamming me against a jagged wall of rock. I choked and gasped as my shoulder blades scraped against uneven stones until I hit the ground.

~~~

“Your new home, Joseph.”

Scarface untied my hands and suddenly tightened the rope around my neck. I dug my fingers at the rough hemp, trying to pull it away as I was forced to my feet where he tied the rope off over something withstanding high above my head. The rope slackened enough that I could breathe. I reached for the blindfold and pulled it up and over my head.

A lantern was the only light filling the space; its yellow glow highlighting the rocky points jutting out from the cave walls. Scarface knelt down on the ground and although I couldn’t look down, I heard him fiddling with something, but the sound was faint, and I couldn’t make out his next move. Then, I knew what was coming next. He pushed up my sleeve, and I bucked and kicked, trying to stop the inevitable.

“Are you finished?” he asked when I finally gave out.

“Why are you doing this?”

“We had an agreement, Joseph.”

“I don’t have any more money. I told you that. What the hell do you want from me?”

“This may not register with you now but in time, you’ll understand the full effects.”

“Of what? What the hell is that stuff?”

“Just relax, son. You’ll feel better in no time at all.”

“Don’t patronize me, just tell me what’s going on.”

“You made a mistake, boy. The girl is dead, and it’s up to you to decide who’ll be next. You think about that while I’m gone.”

““`

There was a feeling of warmth I found hard to ignore. I also found I’d been lowered to the cave’s floor with my wrists tied in front and loosely attached to ropes surrounding my ankles, hogtied but not hogtied. I was alone; Scarface and the lantern were gone and there was only a dripping sound echoing between cracks in the walls.

“You made a mistake, boy. The girl is dead, and it’s up to you to decide who’ll be next.”

The words settled in my mind, but space and time didn’t matter. So, she was dead, I would be the next one to die so what did it matter. I’d been dealt death’s hand, left with no food or water and no way out, not much hope of a future. Right now, as I closed my eyes to my fate, I didn’t much care.

My head rested against the wall and, I let the drug cradle my mind as it overtook my thoughts of death. No one would find me here, wherever here might be. We’d traveled for miles before coming to this place, a haven for Scarface where he knew I’d never again see the light of day again.

The rock wall was cold and unforgiving and on occasion, I tried to work the ropes, but my mind remained cloudy and off in a distance where occasional flashes of red or orange lights crossed paths through the darkness. Where the cave or my current situation no longer seemed important, and my urge to escape lessened with the passing of time.

My muscles grew weak and when the end came, Pa would eventually find my decaying remains because I didn’t have the strength to fight. I couldn’t fight Scarface, and I couldn’t fight his debilitating drug. My mouth was dry, but I could still hear the drip, drip, drip of water as I ran my tongue across my lips only to find it didn’t help much at all. Maybe Scarface planned this location, knowing I’d probably go insane before I ever got to the end of my life.

He was a clever man, Hank Quinn. He’d fooled Adam and Hoss easily enough when he signed on to be a continual threat to me. But not only clever, Scarface was pure evil. Coincidence? Now I wondered, but Suzanna was dead and Adam would have to apologize for all the things he’d said. Ha! No apologies for little brother because I wouldn’t be around to hear them, and he’d have to carry the guilt of his irrational comments for a lifetime.

I broke my promise to Scarface. Was that so bad? Should I die over a broken promise? I’ll bet Pa was really mad when Adam and Hoss told him I was missing, vanished into thin air while they stood guard in the hotel. “I suggest you all stay close to Little Joe. If this man tries anything, well …” I’d made a crucial mistake when I walked up those stairs alone.

Time passed; I didn’t know if it was day or night. I’d been left to die in an unmarked grave only this wasn’t a grave yet, but a one-man prison Scarface had chosen to separate me from my family. My head rocked forward, and I tried to form words, but no words sounded through the darkness. I hated being alone although warmth still surrounded me, flowed through my veins like little crystals, perhaps an unusual way to keep me alive a little while longer.

I heard distant footsteps, and I heard my own voice cry out names as the sound resonated through narrow walkways. “Hoss? Adam?” But no one was there; no one answered my cries for help. It was only a dream; one of many I’d had since I’d been left to die. But the footsteps seemed so real, boot heels scraping against rock. I kept silent this time. Why waste energy on a dream?

““`

A hint of light shadowed and swayed and then ignited the walls with a dim yellow haze when Scarface returned to the cave. And though it would sound strange, and I would never tell a soul my reaction, I was glad to know someone was there. He faced me straight on before kneeling beside me and holding the lantern up level with my face, burning my eyes with the sudden bright glare.

“I see you’re awake,” he said then patted my cheek before I turned my head away. How you doing, boy?”

Even though I longed to have someone to talk to, this wasn’t the person I’d choose. And even though I wanted him to stay just to pass the time of day, I knew it was wrong to ask. So, I lowered my head before I made a complete fool of myself, but it was unfair I had to die alone.

He carried a black bag with him, similar to a doctor’s bag, and set it down next to his feet. He also had a small, dingy flour sack he sat on the ground and immediately dug inside for its contents. “I bet you’re hungry, am I right? Thirsty?”

I stared at both bags and said nothing; I stared at the scar instead. The lantern’s light produced an altered look, slightly raised and angrier than I remembered. From just below his eye to the bottom of his chin, it became clear the disfigurement had happened more recently than I had originally thought.

He pulled out a piece of bread. “Sorry, Joseph. I forgot to bring the raspberry jam. Must have left it at home.” With my hands tied, I was forced to let Scarface feed me, and even though the bread tasted old and stale, I couldn’t get it down fast enough. I was starving, and I could have eaten an entire loaf but when Scarface figured I’d had enough, he held up a canteen and allowed me a drink though far from my fill.

When he caught me staring, he ran his fingers down his cheek, lingering on the raised scar. Then, he ran his finger down my face. “Should I mark you, too?”

“Where … how’d you get the scar?” The words came out before I realized what I’d said. But Scarface obliged.  He answered my question.

“A boy just like you.”

“What?”

“I heard he hung himself in his father’s barn.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying. What boy?

“It was his turn to pay, like it’s your turn now, Joseph.”

“I don’t—“

“Not to worry.” Scarface began loading the syringe. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

I never felt the sting, only pressure when the needle slipped through the skin in the crook of my arm. I didn’t fight. I didn’t much care about needles or scars or what the hell I was paying for. The sooner this was over the better.

“Let’s see how Ben Cartwright takes to his little boy now,” he said in a soft voice. He pulled the needle from my arm and dropped it back in his bag. His words meant nothing to me though something about Pa, but I was beyond caring. “Sweet dreams, Joseph.”

““`

Scarface returned. Sometimes it was hours between visits, and other times seemed like days, but it was always the same; he blessed me with food and water and the needle. There were days he was in a hurry to leave and days that he’d stay to talk as though we were friends just shooting the breeze on a summer afternoon. He’d talk. I’d listen. He told me stories of past adventures, but nothing made much sense. He told me he’d been a doctor once, which, even in my confused state, I found somewhat hard to believe.

“I was convicted of murder, Joe, by a six-man jury. Ended up in prison after I was wrongly accused of killing a mother and child.”

Now, that kind of talk was believable.

“Cat got your tongue?”

He often waited for me to respond, but I held back any comments I may have had. What could I possibly say? I’m sorry? Let me go home? Kill me now?

There were times he’d get angry and slap my face or grab a fistful of hair. And as days turned into weeks, we continued our one-sided conversation after I’d been fed and watered like some farm animal. The shot always came at the end of our visit. He was a man who lived by rituals and a sense of order. First came bread and water, and then the shot, never the reverse.

Some days his laughter echoed throughout the cavern walls as he left me alone to wonder when he’d return. He said lots of things in passing, but the most recent stayed with me as I tried to grasp exactly what his words meant.

“You and your papa will curse me till the day you die.”

I didn’t understand the message, and I wouldn’t for a very long time.

““`

“Hello, Joseph.”

I licked my lips in anticipation of water easing the soreness always present in my throat. My stomach began to rumble, anticipating the dry crusts of bread. I was excited to have company but fearful of everything else that moved throughout the cave. Sweat slipped down from my forehead, stinging my eyes and if I caught a drop on my tongue, it tasted of salt.

“How’s my boy, today?”

“Where’s your bag? Where’s the food?”

My heart began to race. Scarface held a lantern and nothing more. He snapped his fingers as if he’d forgotten why he came, and then knelt down beside me on one knee. “Guess I forgot to pick up what I needed before I left.”

“Why? Why did you come?”

“You feeling a bit uncomfortable?”

God, yes. “Where’s the stuff?”

“I’m terribly sorry, Joe. Maybe next time.” He stood to leave.

“Wait,” I cried. “You can’t go.”

“I’m sorry, son. Really I am. But this is how it has to be.”

“Why?” Why are you doing this to me?”

He pulled a syringe from his back pocket and knelt back down on the ground. “Is this what you want?”

I turned my head away.   I didn’t want to admit anything to Scarface, but I knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted me to beg, and I wasn’t about to sink that low.

“Joseph?”

“What?”

He raised my sleeve, and I felt an instant calm before the needle even touched my arm.

“I asked you a question, but you failed to answer.”

“What do you want from me?” I shouted.

“The truth, Joseph. Just the truth.”

“Yes!” I shouted. “Yes!”

“So did the other boys, but I must play fair.”

“Fair?”

“Not today, Joseph. You see … there’s nothing in this syringe. Nothing at all.”

““`

On his final visit, which I didn’t know at the time, Scarface set the lantern on the ground, and like always, he knelt in front of me and stared into my eyes, but my eyes were half-closed, and my head lolled against the rock wall. Although I hadn’t eaten in hours or days, I never knew which, I’d been violently sick, and the cave smelled of vomit and urine. The vomit was fresh, but the smell of urine had been present since day one.

There’d been times when Scarface untied me and let me move farther back in the cave to do my business, but he wasn’t always there to allow me that freedom of movement. So, my trousers never really had time to dry, and his comments had been brutal over my unsanitary behavior, but I’d had no other choice but to go where I sat.

“How’s my boy?”

He rocked me out of a semi-conscious sleep, and my temper soon flared when I recognized my captor and glared at the man with contempt. “How do you think I am, you sonofabitch?”

“Well, I expected as much.” There was a gleam in his eyes as he spoke, which only upset me more.

“Why are you here? I thought you’d left me here to die.”

“Joe,” he said slowly. “That’s not my intention at all.”

“Then what?”

Again, he pulled out a syringe, and when he tapped the needle with the tip of his finger, I saw a tiny drip slip over the top. Thank God. The syringe was full.

“You have a choice this time.” He reached behind for his canteen and set it on my lap.

“We’re going to try something new today.”

“No games, Quinn. Just give me the goddamned shot.”

“You know I don’t play games, Joseph, but I guess we could call this a game because this time, you must choose.”

“Choose what?”

“A cool drink of water, which will keep you alive or maybe you’d rather have this worthless little shot instead. It’s your choice.”

It wasn’t a choice at all, and he knew damn well what I’d choose. “Just give the shot and get the hell out.”

“All right. Here you go, son.”

“I’m not your damn son.

He placed the syringe in my hand, but my hands were tied, and I had no choice but to sit and stare and try to figure out what kind of game we were playing this time. “What now?” He untied the rope and set my hands free.

“Let’s see how you do.”

Quickly, I pushed up my sleeve and touched the needle to my arm, but I couldn’t go any farther. My hand shook and my muscles tensed as I stared at the needle pressed against bruised and swollen skin. “Here … you do it.” I held the syringe back to Scarface.

Quinn took the syringe and slipped it back into his pocket. “No deal. Go ahead … drink the water instead.”

My heart pounded and my eyes watered. Scarface picked up the lantern and turned his back on me.

“Okay,” I cried. “I’ll do it myself.”

He dropped the syringe in my lap and stood over me as I steadied the needle to my arm and pushed the drug into my vein. The needle hung limply as immediate warmth calmed the demons and brought an instant sense of peace to my tortured soul. My hand fell away, and Scarface extracted the needle and threw the syringe back in my lap.

“You’ve done yourself no favors, Joseph,” he said as he retied my hands then draped the canteen’s strap over my head, only to let it dangle against my chest where I couldn’t reach and take a drink. “You’ve become like all the rest.”

I didn’t much care what he said. I didn’t much care about anything.

“You disgust me, Joseph. You’re a worthless embarrassment to everyone; a true drug addict, and you’ll never be free.”

He continued to rattle on as I let my head lie back against the rocks.

“Enjoy the journey, my friend.”

I had already closed my eyes, but I heard his boot heels scraping until he was gone. With my hands still loosely hogtied to my ankles, I could only dream of bringing the canteen to my lips. “Only sips,” I heard Hoss say. “Only sips, little brother.” But it couldn’t be Hoss. Hoss was dead.

““`

I stood alongside Scarface as we looked down on my brother from an overhanging cliff high above. Hoss sat in the soft summer grass, watching two young bear cubs as they played and splashed in a fast-running stream. I yelled out a warning but realized I had no voice. Mama bear sensed danger and she was on top of my brother, ripping and slashing the flesh from his back. Her claws dug deep, gouging, overpowering until Hoss lost the battle and lay prone, his limbs jerking reflexively until there was no movement left at all.

My mind was muddled with visions. I was never sure what was real. Was it as Scarface had warned at the beginning—both brothers dead—a slow and painful death? I’d lost Hoss. Was Adam dead, too? I shook my head to clear the webs. Real—not real. How would I ever know for sure?

When I stood up from my seated position, giving the rope gentle slack and stretching my legs, I was forced to remain in a bent position since my wrists were still roped a foot or so from my ankles. The canteen dangled from my neck, giving me no way to drink and as dizzy as I felt, the euphoric feeling and a crude sense I had control over my wellbeing didn’t last.

I stood completely still, veiled in eternal darkness where bats flew about, their wings charging through my hair while unseen crawling things fell down the back of my shirt. My legs were nearly done in, and I constantly shifted my weight from one foot to the other then stood flat-footed, stretching and flexing different muscles but in the end, nothing changed, and I slumped back to my seat on the ground.

““`

The ship’s sails were tattered and torn. The rolling sea, where sharp edges of white, glistening foam stood out against the dark and blustery sky caught my attention. Where wave after wave crashed headlong into the tiny vessel, twisting and turning, raising the bow and then slamming it down below the surface only to rise again. Scarface and I watched as Adam clung to the mast with his last ounce of strength. I would have thrown out a lifeline, but my hands were tied, and my voice remained silent. I couldn’t move forward, and I couldn’t save my brother from ultimate death.

“Adam!”

Exhaustion was my worst enemy, and I rested my head against the rock wall, fell into some kind of trance, still awake but dreaming of what lay ahead and of my brothers’ fate—both dead—and I began counting my blessings. I was grateful I’d known a girl like Jesse. Grateful I’d been raised in a home filled with love. Grateful for Cochise, and grateful Pa would never have to see me like this.

Grateful … grateful … peaceful oblivion …

““`

I clenched my fists when my entire body rocked back and forth with intense pain, with such violent agony that nothing I tried made it stop. I couldn’t shake the tremors, seizing me upright, grabbing and twisting so hard, and not letting go. I reached out for help from Scarface, but only his laughter filled the darkness.

“Where are you? Why won’t you help me?”

Voices were constant, many voices, but never Scarface, never the one voice I searched for amid others. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the dreams would fade and the voices would disappear into the night. Then Scarface would come. He was afraid to be seen. He’d always remained in the shadows, in alleyways, and in the darkness of caves where there was little light.

“Please … I won’t tell Pa.”

“You gotta do somethin’, Doc. Little Joe’s hurtin’ somethin’ terrible.”

“I’m doing all I can, Hoss.”

At times, I heard my brother’s voice. The dream was so real, and I wanted to call out but dreams fade in and out and bizarre and frightening images often appear.

I reached for Hoss, but I had to keep running when mama bear reared up on her hind legs and directed her anger at me. Her claws extended, and I stumbled and backpedaled across the field of knee-high grass. And before she landed on all fours, she grabbed at my shoulder, leaving deep marks and blood from torn flesh, and I cried out for Hoss. But Hoss was dead, and I ran faster’n a jackrabbit, like the boy I’d once been, away from the cubs in the stream and away from my dead brother.

“It’s all part of the withdrawal, Ben. His body’s fighting the effects of the morphine.”

“But why would anyone do this? What purpose—“

New voices entered my dreams, and I rolled to my side and covered my ears with my hands, but I was still rocking and pulling my knees to my chest. My skin was damp from sweat, but I shivered from the cold.

“Go away!” I tried to move further when mama’s claw grabbed hold of my shoulder. I couldn’t run and I couldn’t hide. The sky was flooded with light and again, I called out for Scarface.

“Help me … please help me.”

The dreams repeated like clockwork, and I fought the images circling the room, faster and faster they came, mixed up and jumbled and chaotic. And when I woke, the cave was dark and damp; another day had passed. My face burned with heat, and I tried to tear away the clothes that covered my skin.

“Can you hear me, son?”

“Try to get that sheet back over him, Ben.”

The voices were back only this time, I recognized the deep, whispering voice of my father. A new dream where Pa would die, and I would be too far away to save him. Only Scarface could save my father, but he promised me early on that everyone would die. “No, Pa. Not my pa.” I covered my face with my hands, and I cried. “Why?”

“Joseph. Wake up, son.”

The dream was so real, but when I opened my eyes, a dim light showered the cave. Confusion addled my brain, and I pictured my own bedroom on the Ponderosa. I was dying for sure, but in my own bed with Pa and Hoss and Adam standing near. A smile nearly broke; I wouldn’t have to die alone.

Pa’s white hair shone brightly where there’d been no trace of light for so long. He took my hand in his, and I realized my hands had been untied and the noose was no longer rough against my skin.

I’d seen a hanging before. A Chinaman was lynched one night, hung up by his ankles from the old sycamore tree. I wasn’t supposed to be there; I wasn’t supposed to be a witness to a lynchin’. I ran to find Pa that night. I ran from mama bear, but Pa still held my hand.

“Pa?”

“I’m right here, son.”

“Are you dead, too?”

“Joseph. No one is dead. You’re very much alive.”

I fought my confusion. Pa seemed so real I didn’t want to fight the dream. I let it come and, as the room lightened with rays of morning sunshine breaking through my open window. I felt at peace.

The dream expanded and Hoss and Adam stood beside the bed. I smiled at the sight. We were all together again. Scarface had ended my life too, and I was happy now. No more dreams and no more nightmares and dark caves. No more thirst, and no more pangs of hunger, no more dying alone.

“Is he really awake, Pa?”

“Yes. He’s coming around, Hoss.”

Tears ran from my eyes, and I didn’t care. I hadn’t died alone. My family was with me, and we’d all be together forever.

“Welcome home, Joe.”

I smiled at Adam. He patted my leg, and I took a deep breath, but my breathing suddenly quickened to a rapid staccato, much like a metronome set too fast. I was trying to keep up the quickened pace, but when my stomach seized and my back arched, I cried again for Scarface. “Oh, God, no.”

“Hoss, ride in and bring Paul back out.”

“Right, Pa.”

“No, no,” I cried. “You lied to me.”

“Hurry, Hoss.”

Pa’s voice was urgent. He was fighting with me, and all I could do was cry. I fought to find Scarface and fight through the hands that held me down on the bed.

“Damn that man!”

“No … let me go.”

“Get some fresh water, Adam.”

““`

“I see you’re awake.”

“Yeah, I’m awake.”

Days passed and the worst was over. I’d made a few trips downstairs but never stayed long enough to make the effort worthwhile. I was content to lie in bed, content to stay by myself without piercing eyes watching my every move.

“Are you hungry? Do you need something to drink? Would you like to sit up for a while? Fresh air will do you good. The doctor says you should be up and around by now?

No! I didn’t want any of those things. I wanted morphine; I wanted Scarface. I didn’t want to be stared at like some trained circus animal. My answers had become one-word sentences. “NO.” I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to leave my bed. I didn’t want to be watched over and talked to like a helpless child. I was embarrassed by the painful and repetitive symptoms I couldn’t shake when my family was near.

Scarface had said many things to me during our time together. He talked and I listened. There was a statement, which stuck with me even to this day. “You and your papa will curse me till the day you die.” I cursed him all right. I cursed him for leaving me to fight this battle alone. Somewhere he was watching. Somewhere he knew exactly what my life had become, and he was laughing hysterically. He’d done the job he’d sat out to do. He’d done his job well.

Pa cursed Scarface, too. I’d overheard his outbursts when he thought I was sleeping. I thought it was a dream, but dreams and what was real frequently coincided. “Why?” Pa kept asking, but there were no answers to his questions, nor had I found any reason as to why I’d been picked to crave the pleasures of morphine just to have it taken away. I felt no remorse for the way I acted. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my family’s fault; it’s just how things turned out. Pa begged God to let me live. I begged God to let me die.

I resorted to the only thing available, Pa’s whiskey. By keeping a bottle in my room under the mattress, I fought the worst pains, and no one was the wiser. I ate Hop Sing’s soup and drank water or coffee when offered. But I lived in a world of my own, drinking and sleeping and begging off anyone who tried to disrupt the peace I longed to feel. I wanted it this way, and I fought to keep the world from observing the disappointing son of Ben Cartwright.

Of course, there were interruptions I couldn’t control. Roy Coffee for one. The sheriff had questions, and I answered the best I could.   The doctor checked on my progress and would then report to Pa, leaving me to wonder what was said when they left my room. When Pa knocked on my door one afternoon, I cringed. What now. Why wouldn’t they leave me alone?

“You have a visitor,” he said.

I was sitting up in bed after, just pouring enough whiskey down my throat to make it through until my body betrayed me again. Jesse Peterson walked into the room and stood by the side of my bed.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” I replied, but I was on edge immediately and lacked the confidence of the man she knew before.

“I’ll leave you two alone to catch up.”

Pa closed the door, and I heard his footsteps walking down the hall. I’d grown very aware of footsteps, coming and going, since I’d taken to Pa’s bottles.

“What’s been happening?” I said as if we’d seen each other only yesterday.

“Joe,” she replied. With just my name being said, I sensed tears in the sound of her voice

“I’m fine. No tears, okay?”

“We thought you were dead. We all thought that man had killed you.”

“I’m not dead … just, I don’t know, not quite a hundred percent yet.”

I tried to sound upbeat, but seeing Jess only made matters worse. She cried anyway, and I felt nothing. This was the girl I loved, and I felt nothing. I wanted a drink. I wanted morphine. I wanted her to leave and never come back.

“I’m tired, Jess. Maybe another time would be better.”

She leaned in to kiss me, and I turned my head away. I smelled of alcohol, and I didn’t want her to guess or to tell anyone my secret.

“Okay,” she said and stepped back from the bed. “Another time.” She started for the door but turned back and looked at me over her shoulder. “I love you, Joe.” And she was gone.

She didn’t know what she was saying. She didn’t realize I was different now, and I couldn’t love her as I had before. I slumped down in the bed and reached for the bottle. My hands shook and in my panicked state, I spilled whiskey down my nightshirt, leaving a wet stain no one could ever see. I drank more than usual, capped the bottle, and ran to my dresser for a clean shirt. I was just starting with the buttons when Pa walked through the bedroom door.

“That was a quick visit,” he said. “Can I help?”

“No. I got it.” I kicked the fouled nightshirt closer to the bed and slipped on a pair of trousers. “If I’m going to have unexpected visitors, I should be seen in something besides a nightshirt, don’t you think?”

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, son.”

“It’s okay.” I straightened the covers and climbed on top of my bed, leaned back against the headboard, and crossed my ankles.

“Is there anything you need? Coffee? A sandwich?”

“I’m fine. Maybe I’ll read for a while.”

“All right. Just holler if—“

“I will.”

And Pa was gone.

““`

“So how’d you ever find me?” I’d asked Pa earlier in the week when he’d come to my room wondering why I hadn’t come downstairs when it was nearly noon. I didn’t remember leaving the cave and didn’t know how I got home so it was high time I asked a few questions of my own.

Pa leaned back in the chair and folded his hands in his lap. It seemed a struggle for him to begin but when he started talking, he explained most every detail.

“Well, your brothers and I rode together with Roy and a five-man posse for the first few days. We split off into smaller groups, but there were no tracks to follow, and we were at a loss as to which direction to even start looking. After three days of nothing, Roy and posse gave up, leaving only your brothers and me to keep searching.

“At one point, Adam convinced me to stay home in case you somehow made it back to the house. So, your brothers headed out each morning thereafter and didn’t return till sundown, each going their separate ways but coming home empty-handed and feeling more discouraged as days passed.

“One morning,” Pa said and held his head up to stay the tears, “Hoss saddled Chub and found a note poking out of his saddlebags, but he never said a word to Adam or me. He rode off alone. I think he was scared, not sure if it was a hoax or what he might find.”

“What did the note say?”

“The old Turner Mine.”

“You mean the one right outside of town?” God, I needed a drink.

“That’s right, Joe. No one ever bothered to look there. It was too close, I guess. How that man got you there with no one seeing was … well, it doesn’t matter now.”

“Hoss went there alone?”

“Yes.”

“Was Scar … was Quinn there? He had to leave the note, so you’d find me, right?”

“That’s what we have to assume, son.”

I studied my hands, which always trembled some, and thought of Scarface. That was the plan all along. He never intended for me to die. He wanted me to live and for some reason, he wanted Pa to see what he’d done while I was his captive. He talked about Pa a lot, rambling on about this and that and how disappointed my father would be to know I didn’t fight back, that I let him give me the drug and that eventually I’d …

“Where is he now?”

“Who, Joe?”

“Quinn.”

Pa sighed. “We don’t know.”

I clutched the sheet with my fists. Sweat dotted my forehead and my stomach tightened with agonizing pain, which, over the last few days, I’d become better at hiding from my family.

“So, it was Hoss who brought me home?”

“Do you need to hear more?”

“Please, Pa. Just get it said and get it over with.”

“Hoss said he rode out to the mine and found an old rusty lantern hanging at the entrance.” Pa hesitated again. “Are you sure, son? Are you sure you want to hear more?”

I nodded my head.

“Your brother assumed you were dead. I don’t think he’s gotten over the shock he felt when he first saw you. He said there was a rope around your neck and you fell forward into his arms when he cut through. And, from what I gather, he carried you, along with the lantern, back out of the mine. You hadn’t moved, and he couldn’t find a pulse but at some point, while he readied his bedroll to wrap you up and bring you home, you made a sound.” Pa smiled and almost laughed. “I doubt either of us can imagine how your brother felt having given you up for dead?”

“Well, I have Hoss to thank.” Or did I?

Maybe we’d all be better off if Hoss hadn’t ever found that note. I recalled a story Pa told Hoss and me about a night on a trail drive when cattle stampeded, and a man had been trampled nearly to death. Pa was alone in his thinking when he said the man’s life was worth saving. It became a race against time but in the end, the drover’s life was saved. Jimmy’s a cripple now. He can’t walk, but he’s alive. I can’t help but wonder if he thanks my father or curses him every day of his life.

“Life is precious, son.”

I looked up from my daydreaming.

“Every man, no matter the pain, is given an internal desire to live until he’s forced to take that final breath. That’s what you did, Joseph. You willed yourself to live.”

“I’d all but given up, Pa. I was so tired. I was so alone, and I had constant nightmares. I was thirsty and hungry. It was so bad, Pa, I wanted to die. I begged Quinn to let me die.”

“No, son …”

Tears filled my father’s eyes.

“I didn’t know when he would come or if he would come back. He’d tease me with the canteen or dry crusts of bread. Then, he’d load the needle. He’d laugh and he’d talk, and I had to listen, or he’d slap me across the face. He played games, taunting me with the drug. I needed it bad, Pa. I know you don’t understand even Doc doesn’t really know what it does to a man.

“In time, I didn’t care about food or water, only the needle. He knew that, Pa. He made me crazy for the drug, and I had to beg him to give me a shot. “Not today, Joseph,” he’d say. I cried, Pa. Do you know how that made me feel? Crying for morphine, begging Quinn, and listening to him laugh in my face?”

I was yelling and sobbing, just like in the mine, while Pa wiped his own tears, thinking I didn’t see him touch his thumb to the corners of his eyes. Pa thought, after all this time, I was on the mend. I wasn’t even close. I wanted morphine so bad I nearly shot out of bed and ran to find Scarface.

Pa stayed with me through that night. He slept in the chair, and I waited to hear his gentle snoring before I reached for the bottle. I couldn’t resist, and I couldn’t wait until morning. My life was turned upside down, fractured into broken pieces I didn’t know how to mend.

““`

Days later, after I’d sent Jesse away and felt my life was spinning out of control, I was sitting on the settee when Roy Coffee rode up to the house. I didn’t move; I let Pa answer the door. I was half asleep and, as I often did, I rubbed at my wrists, just to know they weren’t still tied. I still suffered dreams I didn’t care to share, and I still had times where they overlapped into real life. But when the sheriff’s voice greeted Pa, I shook myself awake and stood from my seat.

“Hi, Little Joe,” he said smiling.

“Hi, Sheriff.”

“Found out some interesting news today. Thought you and your pa would want to hear.”

“News?”

“Take a seat, Roy,” Pa said.

We all sat down, and Pa and I looked toward the sheriff.

“Well, I don’t know if’n your pa’s told ya yet, but we got a trial set for next week when the circuit judge comes through.” I glanced at Pa, wondering why I hadn’t been told. “I’ll need your testimony to put these three yahoos behind bars.”

“They’ve been caught?”

“Sure have, Little Joe. They’s in my jail, but it was the territorial marshal who actually rounded ‘em up and brought ‘em in for safekeepin’ till the trial.”

“Wait a minute. You said three?” I was confused.

Roy held out his hand as if he needed his fingers to count. “First off, there’s the man who called hisself Hank Quinn.”

“Yeah, he’s the one who—”

“Well, seems he’s got hisself two accomplices.”

“Go on.”

“His real name is David Davis. He and his two friends are wanted from here to Lake’s Crossin’. I got this information from the marshal; Carter’s his name, while you was still held up in that mine. Seems this Davis fella was a practicin’ doctor at one time.”

“A doctor?”

Roy and I both turned toward Pa.

“Dr. Davis,” Pa said. “Wasn’t he on trial in Carson maybe eight or ten years ago? I served on a jury—“

“One and the same, Ben. Dr. Davis was sentenced to ten years in the territorial prison.”

Pa stood and began pacing the room.

“What’s this all about?” I asked.

“Dr. Davis was on trial for murder. Seems he let a mother and her baby die because—” Pa stared straight at Roy, and the sheriff’s statement was never finished.

“Because what?”

“Mind if I continue, Ben?”

“Yes, I mind.” Pa’s voice had an air of disgust, but he’d stopped pacing.

“Well, let’s just say he was in some kind of stupor. I remember the husband testifying that Dr. Davis did nothing but sit and stare into space instead of helping his wife deliver the child and … both died as a result. Others came forward, statin’ they’d also witnessed the doctor acting odd at times as if he was in some kinda trance.”

Pa continually nodded his head. He thought he’d kept the doctor’s secret from me, but I knew exactly why those people died. I knew about trances and not caring. I knew about everything the doctor felt that day.

“What it all boiled down to was that the good doctor was takin’ too much of his own medicine, and he couldn’t function no more like a doctor. He was found guilty of negligence and sent to prison.”

“He told me he was a doctor, but I never believed him.”

“I remember how he stood up in that courtroom and laughed like a crazy man,” Pa said. “And when the sheriff handcuffed him to lead him back to jail, he looked straight at the six of us in the jury box and threatened us all.”

“Threatened you how?” I asked.

Pa looked down at his boots as if they’d suddenly become more interesting than answering my question.

“Pa?”

My father took a deep breath. “Dr. Davis said he’d be back. He said we’d all pay for the mistake we’d just made.”

“That’s why he came after me,” I mumbled. It all made sense; all the other boys he talked about. He’d done the same thing to them and then sent them home to their Pa’s addicted to morphine. You could hear a pin drop. I should have kept my mouth shut; I’d only made things worse. Pa’s back was to me, and I realized the enormous amount of guilt he must be feeling. “It wasn’t your fault, Pa. You couldn’t have known.”

My father was speechless. I held my tongue and didn’t ramble on with some unnecessary babble that couldn’t change the past or change what Scarface had done to any of us. Now glassy-eyed, Pa turned and studied my face. I held back my own tears. He nodded and touched his hand to my cheek. “Forgive me, son.”

““`

Roy left the house, and I returned to my room to drink alone. Within the hour, Pa, Hoss, and Adam surrounded my bed.

“Roy stopped us on his way out,” Adam said. “he told Hoss and me the rest of the story. I thought you’d want to know.”

“The rest? What else is there?”

“Well,” Adam said, taking a seat at the end of my bed,” I don’t want you to take this wrong, Joe, but Roy told us about the other people the marshal took into custody along with Davis.”

“That’s right. He said there were three.”

“Yes, but I believe he only got as far as Dr. Davis.”

“Then who are the other two?”

“The other man goes by Junior. Apparently, he’s Davis’ younger brother.”

He must have been the one who stood over me that night in the alley, the night I got the first shot. “Okay,” I said. “And the third?”

Adam was locking and unlocking his fingers and seemed reluctant to go on. “The third was a woman.”

“A woman?” I glanced up at Pa, who’d remained standing next to Hoss.

“Her name is Louise Davis and … she’s the doctor’s wife.”

“Wife?”

“Yes,” Adam said, “but she goes by a different name, Joe, and since she’s been here in Virginia City, she … she used the name, Suzanna.”

“Oh, God, you mean?”

“I’m sorry, Joe.

“You were right. Oh, God, you were right.” I threw the covers off my legs and tore out of bed. “God,” I cried as I bent nearly in half and covered my face with my hands. I couldn’t breathe.

“Joseph, take it easy, son.”

“Why? Why should I take it easy? God!”

“How could you have known? None of this is your fault.”

“No? Then whose fault is it, Pa?”

Pa started toward me with both arms reaching out.

“Leave me alone!” I screamed

“Joe! Stop this right now!”

Pa seized my wrists; gripping so tight I couldn’t break the hold.

“Out! Everyone out!” 

Pa wouldn’t let go. We each struggled for control, but I was no match. I hadn’t the strength to fight my father.

“Will you excuse us for a minute, boys?”

I was breathing short and fast as Pa half-carried me back toward the bed. “I don’t wanna talk about it, Pa. Just leave me alone.”

“I’ll leave, but only after you calm down.”

I turned my head from my father. Nightmares I could handle, but this wasn’t a dream. It was real, very real.

“Joseph,” Pa said, releasing my wrists and letting my hands fall limply to my lap. Pa pulled the chair in front of me so we sat knee-to-knee. “Davis was out to hurt me, and you became the pawn in his inexcusable excuse for revenge. You’re not to blame, son. You were set up, an unsuspecting boy taken in by a beautiful, conniving woman.”

“That doesn’t help, Pa. That doesn’t help at all.”

“You mean everything to me, Little Joe, and I hope you realize if things had turned out differently, if Davis had given you too much morphine or never sent us that note, if we’d been a day too late, I don’t know what I … you’re alive, son, and nothing else matters. The past is past, and all we can do now is work together to ensure your future.”

I wanted to believe my father’s words, but what Pa failed to understand was that the past was still with me. The image of Scarface and Suzanna would soon fade, but the drug was still with me. I wanted it more than my life. Davis could have killed me, but he knew my addiction would be worse than death.

In time, it would come between Pa and me. It would destroy all we had; it would destroy the family. I wasn’t getting any better. I was sick with the craving, and Pa would never understand. How could I go on pretending? And then the trial, where everyone would know what a fool I’d been. Everything would be out in the open.

Pa was waiting for me to say something, anything, but what could I say. “You and your papa will curse me till the day you die.” Scarface knew the truth, and so did I.

““`

When Pa returned later that evening, I refused the bowl of soup he brought up for dinner, and I turned him away when he wanted to talk. I was shivering so badly when Adam popped his head in, I sent him away, too. Everyone wanted to talk things out. I was in no condition. I was out of whiskey.

I lay in darkness. Gooseflesh covered my body. Pa had called me a boy—an unsuspecting boy—and he was right. I didn’t have the sense God gave me. I’d been told that before, and now I believed it was true.

I missed Hoss; he rarely came to see me. I’d see him out my window, busying himself with chores or hanging his arms over the corral fence, staring at nothing. When the house fell silent and everyone had turned in for the night, I threw off my covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Still cold, I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and quietly walked to Hoss’ room. I didn’t bother to knock.

“Hoss?”

“Joe? Somethin’ wrong?”

“I don’t know, is there?”

“What’s that mean,” he said, pulling off his second boot and setting it next to the other.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I dunno.”

Hoss sat on his bed, and I opted for the chair. I hadn’t prepared a speech but at this rate, we were getting nowhere. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Hoss leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. As he rubbed his palms together, I knew he was thinking about what he wanted to say.

“You coulda been killed, Little Joe.”

“I coulda been, but I wasn’t.” Even as I said the words, I felt my stomach pull tight and my face flush with unexpected heat.

Hoss shook his head.

“Something’s botherin’ you, so why don’t you come straight out and tell me?”

There was silence. I continually swallowed back the bile at the back of my throat.

“It’s … I’m just glad you ain’t dead, little brother.”

“I’m glad too, Hoss, but the fact I ain’t dead isn’t the problem, is it?”

“No, not directly.”

“Then what is?”

Hoss stood from the bed, shoved his hands deep in his pants pockets, and walked across his room to the bedroom window. “It’s cuz you get mixed up with all them women. Ya don’t care nothin’ about no one else or what the outcome might be.” He kept his back to me and stared out into the darkness. “You should’ve never been with that lady in the first place, Little Joe.” There was a slight pause, and Hoss finally let go of what was bothering him. “If you hadn’t been out whorin’, none of this would’ve ever happened.”

I stood from the chair, but suddenly, it was all I could do to grab for the basin in Hoss’ room. First came the whiskey, and since my stomach was empty, having skipped supper and eaten very little lunch, I stood over the bowl and heaved until tears filled my eyes. My brother’s hand was on my back; his other held onto my arm. Pa rushed in to stand beside us.

“It’s my fault, Pa. I said things I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s not your fault, Hoss.  It’s the morphine.  It’s still in Joe’s system.”

“Oh, God,” I cried.

Morphine, whiskey, it didn’t matter. When the violence only got worse, I fell back on Hoss’ bed, cramping and bringing my knees to my chest then wrapping my arms around and holding on tight. I rocked back and forth, anticipating the next surge. I didn’t want them to see me like this. I’d tried so hard to hide from everyone.

“The bowl,” I sobbed.

My brother’s words rang in my ears. I was to blame for everything I was going through now.

““`

The next few days were a blur as I consumed bottle after bottle of Pa’s whiskey. I took walks in the yard and made myself scarce when I needed to empty my stomach. I vowed no more humiliating displays in front of my family. No one ever mentioned the fine sheen of sweat always present on my brow or my constant return visits to my bedroom.

I had just walked out the front door when Roy Coffee rode up and started talking before dismounting and tying his horse. “Hey, Little Joe. Got some good news.”

“Your prisoners drop dead in their cells?”

“Not exactly. You’re Pa home?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on. He’ll want to hear this, too.”

“Pa? The sheriff’s here,” I called from the front door.

We gathered around the dining room table, and Roy started his story.

“According to the marshal, prosecutin’ these three in Lake’s Crossin’ would likely bring on a conviction since two young men from the area have died, they think because of Davis. You’re a lucky boy, Little Joe. Darn lucky to be alive with the likes of him gettin’ hold of you as he did.”

I nodded. “How’d the boys die, Sheriff?”

“Well, seems one boy, seventeen years old, hanged hisself in his father’s barn not long after Davis released him. Another boy, your age I believe, took hisself into a saloon and dared some hotshot gunslinger to draw his gun. Boy died that night on the barroom floor. Carter talked to the prosecutor and they think they can tie it all to Davis and what he done to them boys while they was captive. They were both sons of jurors, Ben.”

“Joseph?”

“It’s nothin’, Pa.” He’d caught me smiling, and there was nothing to really smile about because I knew why those boys had died. I knew the feeling of despair.

“It looks like you’re off the hook as far as a trial goes, but I’ll let you know what happens as soon as I hear the outcome.”

“Thank you, Roy,” Pa said when I remained silent.

Pa walked with the sheriff to the door, and I headed upstairs. I sat on the bed with my bottle; I’d never felt so relieved. In a way it was over. I wouldn’t have to testify or face anyone in court or on the streets of Virginia City. My secret was safe, no affair, and no injections of morphine to pass as food for gossip. I tilted the bottle to my lips until it was empty. Soon, Pa would discover the shelves were bare, maybe not today or tomorrow but eventually questions would be asked.

““`

I was ready to go back to work. I’d done enough chores around the house to last a lifetime, so Pa sent me out with Hoss. I was prepared for the worse and threw a full bottle in my saddlebags. An entire day away from home seemed nearly unbearable.

“Mend fences,” was all Pa had said.

I was aware of the double meaning. Hoss and I weren’t fighting or arguing, we just weren’t friends anymore. I had no friends. I hadn’t been to town, and I hadn’t seen Jess since she’d stopped by shortly after my return home, and that was a lifetime ago.

The day was long and the conversation meaningless. I had to slip off a couple of times to reach in my saddlebags, but Hoss kept on working; he didn’t care what I was up to. We mended fences, rode home, and went our separate ways.

The next day proved the same, and the day following was no better. Pa had been to town and discussed the results of the trial with Roy. At supper that night, he filled us all in. Davis was sentenced to thirty years—ten for each kidnapping—Suzanna and Junior would serve ten. Although I was pleased with the outcome, it changed nothing of the legacy Scarface had left me. I was broken and alone. I hated my life, and I had only myself to blame.

I asked Pa if I could work by myself for the next few days. To say he was displeased was an understatement, but he agreed to my request for time alone. So after my brothers rode out together, I headed out to round up a few strays. But it was a worthless venture; I was too nauseous to sit in the saddle.

I found a large oak and propped myself against its trunk; I sipped whiskey from the bottle. I should have been well by now, but stomach pains impaired my progress and kept me from putting in a full day’s work. I thought of Jimmy, the drover who’d lost his legs in the stampede; a worthless cripple just like me.

Sweat covered my face as I fought back the urge to ride to town, into Chinatown, where morphine was plentiful and where opium dens often housed some of Virginia City’s own upstanding businessmen. Unscrupulous, maybe, but those places were a fact of life. Like saloons, these secret hideaways were just a different way to relax and find comfort. Pa wouldn’t agree, never, but I wasn’t naïve to the guarded world the Chinese referred to as pleasure palaces.

It was growing late, and I knew I should start back, or Pa’d have a search party out combing the countryside, but I’d just begun to relax, and I was content in my own little world. This new way of life had become the new normal. I muddled through, sick most of the time, but if I gave up the whiskey, it would only be a matter of time before I found morphine or took my own life. I didn’t want to leave this world dangling from a rope like one of those boys; I just couldn’t do that to Pa.

The sound of a twig snapped and startled me from my morbid thoughts. I turned to see Hoss walking up from behind. I tucked the near-empty bottle behind me.

“Thought it was time we talked, Little Joe.”

“Ya scared me half to death, Hoss,” I said, looking up and running my hand anxiously through my hair. I glanced over my shoulder, realizing he’d walked rather than ridden up to the big oak. “Where’d ya leave Chub?”

“He’s back there a ways. I weren’t sneakin’ up on you; I just felt like a walk is all.”

Although I hadn’t asked my big brother to sit down, he did so anyway. He unfastened a button of his shirt and reached inside. There must have been half a dozen cookies in the package Hop Sing had sent along for his lunch. He handed me one. Given time, Hoss would finish off the rest.

“Something on your mind?” I asked.

“Yep.”

A cookie took more importance over the conversation, and I knew better than to disturb a hungry Hoss.

“I been thinkin’, Little Joe. I been thinkin’ a lot lately.”

With my cookie forgotten, knowing I didn’t dare take a bite, I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs.

“You see, Joe, you and I consider womenfolk in a completely different way. Most of ‘em scare me but you … well, you got a way about you. I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is maybe I’m jealous of what comes so easy to you cuz as long as I live, women is somethin’ I’ll never quite understand. It’s what makes each of us different, and it was wrong of me to fault you for somethin’ what comes natural.” He stopped to offer me another cookie. I declined. “I come to apologize. I been wrong in my thinkin’.”

I shook my head. “You weren’t wrong, Hoss.” I dropped my chin to my knees. “You’ve been right all along. I never should’ve taken up with Suzanna.”

“But don’t ya see, Joe. That’s just how things are. Ain’t no pretty lady gonna ask about me at a dance. You’re kinda like a … like a target, but it ain’t your fault. It ain’t nobody’s fault. It just is.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to follow through, you know, do the deed so to speak.”

“Well, you might be right there, but that ain’t the point. I’ve never had the chance to know what I’d do in your place. Maybe I’d … you know, too, if’n I had the chance.”

I studied Hoss, and the expression on his face nearly broke my heart. His shoulders slumped forward, and his face hung lifeless. Life was unfair. Hoss was the best man I knew.

“How ‘bout I trade places with you next time someone asks about me at a dance,” I said, trying to make a joke.

“No thanks, little brother,” he said, laughingly.

“Then you don’t see, do you?”

“Huh?”

“You think you wanna be in my shoes, but when it comes right down to it you don’t want any part of my life.”

“Yeah, well … when you put it like that.”

“You said, ‘it just is’ so—”

“Ah, Joe. Now ya got me all confused.”

“Good. That’s what little brothers are for, right?” I knew from that moment on, I wasn’t alone.

Hoss let out a deep breath.

“Finish up your cookies, big brother, and let’s go home.” I felt restored though far from recovered, but a weight had been lifted. There was still kindness in a world I didn’t understand, a world that had changed and taken me down with it. I slipped the bottle to the side of the tree and stood up.

“One more thing,” Hoss said, dusting the crumbs off his shirt.

“What’s that?”

“It’s about Miss Jesse.”

I clapped Hoss on the back. “What about her?”

“I donno. You planning on seein’ her again?”

“Why? You been courtin’ her on the side?”

“Joseph. That ain’t even funny.”

“No, guess it’s not.”

We started down the hill toward Chub. I held Cooch’s reins, and he followed behind. There was still a sense of awkwardness between Hoss and me though, in time, I knew we could work things out.

“You gonna tell Miss Jesse about … you know?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think that’s wise, do you?”

“Since I can’t fit in your shoes, I’ll leave the business of handlin’ women up to you, Joseph.”

“Thanks.” I almost felt human again. Hoss and I were making progress in the right direction. Maybe living wasn’t such a bad deal after all. I stopped and looked up at Hoss. “Friends?”

“Ah,” he said, staring down at his boots, ‘course we are.”

“Good. I’m kinda hungry.”

My brother turned his nose to the sky and sniffed the air. “Roast beef and fresh bread.”

Hoss, as much as he tried, he could never stay mad for long. As far as I could tell, we’d accomplished what Pa asked. We’d mended fences, and tomorrow we’d ride out together. Pa would be pleased.

The whiskey? Well, maybe that would fade away in time.

And Jesse? I didn’t really know what the future held, but somehow, I knew there might be a future worth living. And thanks to Hoss, my brother, my best friend, I’d try to make things right.

The End
6-2013

The next story in this series: Betrayal #2

* Although the first syringe with a needle fine enough to pierce skin was invented in 1853, it wasn’t commonly used until the Civil War, 1861-1865. This story would have taken place in 1861.  I’ve hedged a few years.