A Friend in Need

***

Chapter One

Pa set the telegram down and picked up his coffee.  “I wonder what the problem is?”

The message had been sparse and straight to the point.  Hoss reached across and picked it up.  “Sure sounds like he needs help fast.”

The eggs in my mouth turned to dust as my gaze riveted on that doom-laden piece of paper.  Silas Davis, needing a helping hand, was the worst news.   We hadn’t seen him in ten years, and my memories were of an old man with a never-ending line of complaints.

‘Little Joe, is that the best you can do?’  ‘Sit up straight, boy,’ ‘Why can’t you be like your older brothers?’ and ‘Didn’t your Pa teach you not to fidget?’ had rung in my ears.  The day he decided to move to a warmer climate, I celebrated.

“Well, I can’t refuse a friend in need.  Who wants to go?”

Crossing my fingers, I held my tongue.  Silas had only asked for one of us.  Maybe Hoss would volunteer.  Sure enough, Big Brother spoke up.  “I don’t mind.”

I relaxed back in my chair.  Hoss had this.  Or that’s what I thought until Pa put a burr under the saddle.  “Wait a minute.  I’ve just remembered.  You can’t leave now.”

Hoss clicked his fingers.  “Dadburnit, you’re right.  I forgot about the orphanage.  I can’t break my promise.”

I’d forgotten about that, too.  My innards shriveled as Pa’s gaze turned to me.  “Guess it’s up to you.”

I groaned.

***
Chapter Two

Silas stepped onto his porch, and I raised my hand in a wave.  He looked the same.  Thin, wiry, and tough as old leather. 

“Is that you, Little Joe?”

“Hi, Mr. Davis.”

“Oh.  I thought Ben would send the oldest boy, the one with the brains.  Or, at least, the big one.”

What a welcome.  “No, Sir.  Adam’s on a ship right now heading for—”

“A ship?  What’s Adam doing on a ship?”

I grinned at the man whose eyes bulged in disbelief.  “Seeing the world.” 

“What’s Ben doing letting him gallivant off?  Always said your pa was too soft with you boys.  I warned him if he didn’t keep a firm hand, one of you would up and do something foolish.  Well, I’m stuck with you, I suppose.  Guess you’d like to put your gear in the bunk house?”

I’d like to have punched him on the snoot.  But he was old, and Pa had rules about things like that.  “The bunkhouse?”

“That’s right.  You’ll find there’s plenty of room.”

“I’d better put up the horse first.  I had to hire one to get out here, seeing as no one met me.  Didn’t you get Pa’s telegraph about when I’d be arriving?”

“Sure I did, but I ain’t got time to run no collection service.  I’d figured you’d make your way.  You can take the horse back when you fetch the supplies in a few days.  Once you’ve stowed your gear, come into the house and I’ll tell you what needs doing.”

Silas wasn’t joking about the room.  All the bunks were empty.  No men, no gear, no nothing.   What the heck was going on?

The front door to his house creaked when I pushed it open, and Silas looked around from the stove, situated in a tiny kitchen on one side of the parlor.

“Good.  Sit yourself down, boy, there’s a lot needs doing, and I need to get through it.”

Before he hit me with a list of chores, I asked my question.  “Mr. Davis, that bunkhouse is empty.  Where’re your hands?”

Silas dumped the coffee pot on the table.  “Had to let ‘em go.”

“All of them?” I squeaked.

“That’s what desperate straits means, boy.”

“You should’ve asked for all of us, not just one.”

“Like I said, I figured I’d get Adam or the big one.”

He poured coffee into a cup and slid it across to me.  I ignored it.  “Hoss.”

“Huh?”

“Hoss.  He’s the big one.”

“I remember he had some fool name.  Well, you’re a mite puny, but you’re young and strong.  You can get most of the chores I need done.  Anything one man can’t handle, I can help with.”

Now, I reached for the coffee and took a large gulp, wincing at the bitter brew. 

The old man’s gaze ran over me, and he shook his head.  “Still can’t believe your pa let Adam go off like that.  “

“Adam’s a grown man.  It’s not like Pa could stop him, even if he’d wanted to.  Which he didn’t,” I added, sticking out my chin.

“Ben always was a dreamer.  Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

I snorted.  “Adam?”

“Can’t think of another way to describe a man who leaves his home and responsibilities to indulge in foolish nonsense like seeing the world.  At least Ben’s still got Hoss … and you.”

I bit back my retort and slugged another gulp of the hideous coffee before asking, “The chores?”

My jaw dropped as the list lengthened.  When I went to town, I’d have to wire Pa and let him know I could be here ‘til Christmas.

Silas set down his cup and slapped me on the back.  “No time like the present.  You can start on those fences.”

***
Chapter Three

That trip to town for supplies couldn’t come soon enough.  Tough was an understatement for the last few days.  I slept and ate in the bunkhouse while Silas did for himself in the house.  Slogging my way through the chores I could handle, it was Silas who was the problem.  Whenever I turned around, there he’d be offering me his special brand of ‘encouragement’. 

“I guess you’re doing your best, but those post holes need to be deeper.”

“This is how deep we dig them on the Ponderosa.”

“I like ‘em deeper.”

My teeth creaked from being pressed together so hard.  “Sure thing, Mr. Davis.”

Heck, even Hoss would have a hard time warming up to this old coot.

The miser never offered to pay for the horse I’d hired, so I dug into my wallet to cover that and the cost of the wire to Pa.  At least I could charge the supplies.

“Hi, there, young fella.  What can I help you with?”

A smiling face was a welcome sight.  I pulled out the list and handed it over.  “Mr. Davis says you can fill this for him.”

The smile faded along with the warmth.  The owner flicked a glance at the other two customers in the store before replying,  “I can, but it will need to be cash on the barrel.”

“Doesn’t he have an account here?”

Sliding his hand down his apron, the man looked again at the two men.  They were just a couple of ordinary cowhands.  Why did he care if they overheard our conversation?  “I had to cancel it.  I’m sorry, son.  Cash only.”

Blowing out a breath, I asked the cost before telling him to fill the order.  My wallet was getting lighter by the minute. 

I paid the mercantile owner and loaded the last sack.  Glancing down the street to the saloon, I smiled.  I still had money for a beer.  

“You working for old man Silas?”

I turned to face one of the cowboys from the mercantile.  Thumbs hitched into his gun belt, he looked about sixteen, with the attitude of a man who thought he couldn’t be beat.  “Who wants to know?”

“I work for Mr. Grey.  He owns the ranch next to Davis.”

“And why should I care?”

“Listen, friend.  You wanna help that old man?  Tell him to give Mr. Grey what he wants.  Save everyone a lot of time, trouble, and pain.”

My left hand rested on the side of the wagon, but now I straightened and let it drop to my side, brushing the handle of my Colt.  “That right?”

The kid’s thumbs slid out of his belt. Was he looking for a fight? Before he could make a move, his friend stepped forward and tapped his arm, breaking the moment. With a shrug, he took a step back.  “Just some friendly advice, is all.”

“I’ll be sure to mention it.”

I watched him rejoin his friend and stroll down the street to the saloon.  Darn!  No beer either.  That didn’t improve my mood.  Slapping the reins, I headed the team out of town.  Silas had some questions to answer.  Like, what the heck was going on, and what did this Grey character have to do with it?

***
Chapter Four

Shoving back my chair, I strode away from the table.  I glanced back at Silas, who fiddled with the cup set in front of him.  He cut me a look, and I saw the embarrassment in his gaze.

“So this fella, Grey, has been trying to get you to sell your land ever since he bought his spread.”

“That’s right.  He wants to get his hands on my creek.  It’s the only water source that doesn’t dry up each summer.”

“Did you really fire your men?”

Silas pulled a face, and I rolled my eyes.  “What did the sheriff say?”

“Jessop weren’t no use.  Grey likely bought him off.”  Hands on hips, I stared at Silas, waiting for a proper answer.  He thumped his cup down.  “He said there weren’t no proof Grey were responsible for those things, and he couldn’t do nothing without proof.”

“Those things?”  I flung out a hand.  “You mean like the broken fences I’ve been fixing?”

“The latest was setting fire to the barn.  We managed to put it out, but that scared off my hands.”

I ran a hand through my hair.  “Why didn’t you tell Pa this?”

“Knowing how Ben feels about you boys?  If I told him everything, he mightn’t have sent anyone.”

“I thought you knew Pa better than that.”

His gaze dropped from mine.  If he felt ashamed, he should.  But then, his shoulders slumped, and the feisty old tyrant slipped away, leaving a man who was old, tired, and just plain scared. 

I eased myself back into the seat opposite.  “So, what can we do about this?”

His hazy grey eyes lit with light when they met mine.  “You mean you ain’t leaving?”

“Who said anything about leaving?”  I smiled.  “We’ve gotta find a way to beat Grey and save your land.”

A bony hand covered mine.  “Thank you, boy.  “

“What about those hands of yours?  They still around?”

“They’re in town, but what good is that?”

“I’ll go talk to them.  I might be able to persuade them to come back.”

“Who says I want them cowardly no-goods back?”

We needed them, but I wasn’t going to argue with the stubborn old goat.  I changed the subject.  “What about Grey.  Have you spoken to him since the troubles began?”

“Didn’t see the point.  I know he’s behind them.”

“How can you be sure?”

“It weren’t hard to work out.  I know my other neighbors, and he’s the only one who wants my land.”

“Still, it mightn’t be such a bad idea.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to that slick, city sidewinder.  You wanna waste your time, go ahead.”

I would.  If nothing else, I’d get the measure of the man.  Pa always said that was a good place to start.

Since we needed wood for the barn repair, I decided the next day to combine fetching that with looking up the hands.

I found all four in the saloon, sitting around a table looking sorry for themselves.  “You the fellas who worked for Silas Davis?”

Eyes flicked towards each other, and they shifted in their seats.  The one I figured to be the foreman, Bob, spoke up.  “Who wants to know?”

“I’m Joe Cartwright.  My father’s a friend of Mr. Davis.  I’m down helping him out.”

“What d’you want?”

“I want you to come back to work.”

Bob shook his head.  “Sorry.”

“C’mon, fellas.  You’ve worked for him for a long time.  Don’t you owe him something?”

“Did he tell you about the trouble?”

“Sure.  But don’t tell me you’ve never faced trouble before?”

“We’re ranch hands, not gun men,” a wiry guy with a shock of blond hair piped up.

“I hadn’t heard there was gunplay?”

“Not yet,” he replied.

“So you left that old man out there to face it alone?”

Bob hung his head.  “Okay, yeah.  We feel kinda bad about that.”

I looked from Bob to the others.  Now I knew the reason for their misery—guilt.  All they needed was a push.  Lying my palms on the table, I leaned in.  “Then come back and help him.  That’s what he needs.  Help.  Don’t you owe him that much?”

I had them.  One by one, I saw the look in their eyes as they broke.  Bob sealed the deal.  “He’s right.”

I slapped the table.  “Now you’re talking.”

***
Chapter Five

Silas looked like he’d just sucked on a bag full of lemons, but the way he held his shoulders back and stood up straight gave away how he felt.  He ran an eye over his men lined up in front of him, hats in hands.

“I guess I could see my way clear to giving you your jobs back.”

I shook my head and turned away to hide my grin.  Silas never gave an inch.

We sweated over repairing the barn for the rest of the day, and then I put the first part of my plan into action.  I set up lookouts.  No one was getting close enough to that barn to set fire to it or anything else.

The next day, Bob and I rounded up the scattered horses and returned them to the newly repaired corrals.  I leaned into my saddle horn.  Before me, the animals pranced and milled about.  Watching fine horses move always lifted my spirits.  I turned my head when Bob pulled his mount up next to mine. 

The man had concerns.  “This is a start, but there ain’t enough of us to be everywhere.  What if Grey’s men come back?”

“I’m gonna pay a visit to Mr. Grey.  See what he has to say.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Maybe not, but it’s the only one I can think of.  How do I find his place?”

~~~

Built out of stone and wood, the house rose up from the rugged landscape, giving a feeling of quiet permanence.  It reminded me of home.  Before I’d drawn up, the door had opened, and a man stepped out.

“Welcome, young fella.  What can I do for you?”

“Mr. Grey?”

“That’s right.”

“My name’s Joe Cartwright.  I’m here helping Mr. Davis.  I’d like to talk to you.”

The man put his hands on his hips and cocked one eyebrow.  Dark, keen eyes searched my face.  His friendly smile never faded.  After taking his moment to consider, he tilted his head.  “Step down, son.”

Nothing about the man came close to Silas’s comment that Grey was from the city.  He looked like he’d lived in these parts forever.   

Accepting the offer of coffee and a seat, I settled into an armchair while my host disappeared through a doorway to hustle the beverage.

Comfortable and inviting, the living room’s lack of feminine touches again brought the Ponderosa to mind.  I admired the paintings on the wall and the fine musket over the fireplace.  Pa would be envious of that piece.

“Manuel will bring the coffee.”

“Thanks.  How long have you lived here, Sir?”

Grey smiled.  “Call me Henry, Joe, please.  Almost two years.  You say you’re here helping Silas out?”

“That’s right.  My father is an old friend of his.”

That piercing gaze searched me again.  “Cartwright, you say.  Where d’you hail from?”

“Nevada.  The Ponderosa, Virginia City way.”

“Your father’s Ben Cartwright.  Quite a man, I’m told.”

“Yes, Sir, he is.”  When the man across from me raised his eyebrow again, I corrected myself.  “Henry.”

He smiled.  “Your father’s got quite a reputation.  Honest, fair, and a man who believes in looking after the land.”

Grey broke off with the arrival of the coffee.  Pouring it, he handed me a cup before taking his own.  “So what’s Ben Cartwright’s boy doing down here?”

“Like I said.  Mr. Davis is an old friend of Pa’s.”

“And what brings you to me?”

“I understand you want to buy Mr. Davis’s ranch.”

“That I do.  But Silas told me in very clear terms he wasn’t interested.”  Henry set down his coffee cup.  “Are you here to tell me he’s changed his mind?”

“No.  But ever since you made him the offer, he’s had problems.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.  Fences pulled down, stock scattered, a barn set alight.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.  Is there anything I can do?”

His face showed nothing but friendly concern.  He was good.  I’d give him that.  “I met some of your men in town a short while ago.  They gave me a message.”  The expression didn’t change, but he stiffened.  “To save Mr. Davis a lot of trouble and pain, I should get him to give you what you wanted.”

“I see.  You think I had something to do with Silas’s troubles.”  Leaning back in his chair, Grey linked his hands and crossed one leg over the other.   “I’ll tell you, Joe.  My men are loyal, and they know how much I’d like that land.  But if I want something, I go straight for it.  I don’t hold with underhanded tactics.”

If he was lying, he was one of the best.  “D’you think your men could’ve pulled that stuff without telling you?  Y’know, to help you out?”

“Let’s find out.”  

He got up, and I followed.  We marched out the front door to the corrals, where some men were working horses.  He caught the eye of one, waved him over, and introduced him as the foreman, Fuller.

“Silas Davis has been having some trouble at his place.  You know anything about that?”

“Trouble?   What kind of trouble?”

I looked him in the eye and told him.  His gaze flicked to Grey and back again.  He scratched his cheek.  “I’ve not heard about that.”

“No talk among the men?” Grey asked.

“No, Sir.”  Catching on, the foreman glared at me.  “Wait.  You think our men did it?”

“He’s got a right.  One of them said something stupid to Joe about giving me what I wanted.”

Crossing his arms, Fuller asked, “What’d he look like?”

“Young fella, dark hair, ‘bout my height.  Wears his gun a bit too easy.”

“Sam,” they both said in unison.

“Speak to him.  See what he knows”.  Grey turned from his foreman.  “Come back inside, Joe.  Finish that coffee.”

I’d rather have hung around while Fuller talked to the man, but I followed Grey back inside.

“D’you think this Sam could be responsible?”

“I hope not.  He’s not been with me long, about three or four months.  He rode in here with a couple of friends.  Down on their luck, looking for a job.  He admitted to a short stretch in jail for brawling, damaging property.  Stupid stuff.  His Ma died while he was locked up.  He came here looking for a fresh start.  I gave him that chance and he’s been a good, hard worker since.”

“Sounds like he owes you.”

“Maybe, and if that gave him ideas, well, I’d be sorry for it.”

The door opened.  The young cowboy stood before his boss, head down, turning his hat through his fingers.  What a difference from the cocky kid I’d met.

“Well?” Grey asked.

“He says he and his friends did it all, except they had nothing to do with setting fire to the barn.”

“That’s right, Sir.  We pulled them fences down, but I thought—”

“Thought?  Boy, you didn’t think.  All you’ve done is shame me in front of Joe here.”

“But Mr. Grey, you said you needed that land.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to destroy another man’s property to get it.”  Sam opened his mouth to speak, and Grey flung up a hand.  “That’s enough.  If you wanna keep your job, keep your mouth shut.”

Grey turned away, then swung back around and pointed at Sam.  “You’re telling the truth?  You had nothing to do with burning that barn?”

Sam lowered his head and stared at the floor.  His hat continued to turn.  “Yessir.  I’m sorry.”

“I should fire you and your friends right here and now, but that wouldn’t fix things.  When you mess up, son, you’ve got to make it right.”

Sam shifted from one foot to the other, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.  I wasn’t sure how I felt about Grey’s reluctance to fire him.  If one of our hands had pulled a stunt like that, I’d bet a month’s salary he’d be out by suppertime.

“Joe.  Please tell Silas that I’m mighty sorry for what’s happened.  Tomorrow morning, he can expect Sam and his friends at his door, ready to work off everything they cost him.”

My eyebrows rose, and I flicked a glance at Sam’s startled face.  Neither of us had expected that.

“But, Mr. Grey—”

“No buts, Samuel.  You’ll work until Mr. Davis is satisfied.  Is that clear?  And don’t you ever embarrass me like that again.  Now get out.”

Sam nodded his head and murmured ‘sorry’ before scurrying out the door.  Fuller touched his hat and followed.

I faced Grey.  It had all looked good, but was this just a performance for my benefit? 

“Do you believe him, over not burning the barn?”

“Don’t you?”

I shrugged.  “I don’t know him well enough to tell.”

“He’s a good lad at heart.  Never had a father, so he’s wild.  He just needs someone to look up to and give him a guiding hand.”

“Is that what you’re doing?  Giving him that guiding hand?”

“It’s time someone did.  I believe him.”

Question was, did I believe Grey?

On the ride back, I ran that through my mind.  Grey had been open, upright, and quick to deal with the matter.  Maybe a little too quick?  But I did like the man, and at the moment, nothing I’d seen gave me reason to doubt him.  I had to be satisfied with that. 

The closer I got to Silas’ place, the more I wondered how he’d feel about the solution.  Three extra men would make a big difference.  If Silas could stomach who they were.

“You expect me to house and feed the varmints who burned down my barn?”

“They said they didn’t burn down the barn, and Mr. Grey also gave me this.”

I handed over the wad of bills.

“Does he think he can buy me off?”

“It’s to cover the cost of feeding those three.  He means it when he said they’re working off the damage they did.”

“And what about the barn?”

“Could it have been an accident?”

“No!”  Silas stomped away to his stove.  He picked up the coffee pot and banged it back down.  “No.  None of us would’ve left a lamp burning.”

Even the most careful man makes mistakes, but I left it at that.  Besides, while they were here, I’d be sure to keep an eye on Sam and his two friends.

***
Chapter Six

“I’m telling you straight.  I ain’t exactly delighted to have you yahoos on my property.  And if you’re gonna work off the debt you owe me, you better know right now I aim to make you work harder than you’ve ever done in your scoundrelly lives.”

I crossed my arms and stared at the ground.  As usual, Silas wasn’t pulling any punches.  Not that I blamed him, but the three kids rode up looking like whipped pups to make their apologies.

Sam’s two friends were Tex and Slim.   I soon found out Sam was the brains of the outfit.  The three were as tight as a rolling hitch knot, and they had no interest in fitting in.  They ate and hung out together, refusing to mix with the rest of the hands.  When not working, that was their business, but when they pushed to work together, I pushed back.

“Tex, I need you working with Bob.  Slim, you’re with Mac.  Sam, you’re with me.”

“I told you, we work better as a team.”

Standing by my horse, I ran the soft leather of my rein through my hands and considered Sam.   “I don’t need you as a team.”

Sam’s lips lengthened into a thin line.  His friends watched and waited for their cue.  I pushed back my shoulders.  Let him make something of it.  With a shrug, Sam marched to his horse, and the others did the same.   

Our three troublemakers turned out to be good workers, and we plowed through the backlogged chores over the next two weeks.  Sam and I worked well together, and where I had the choice, I picked him to partner with.

Dropping the last pole in place of the fence line we were repairing, I wiped my brow and asked, “Hey, Sam, where’re you from?”

“When I was little, Ma and me lived with her aunt. But she weren’t nice.”  Sam tightened the wire he was winding around the poles, twisting it until it cut the wood.  “When I was five, Ma moved us to a small place in Arizona.  She worked in a café, and I ran errands for the mercantile until I were fourteen and old enough to work on the ranches.  Ma raised me by herself, worked hard, and she made sure I never had a hungry belly.”

“Your Pa died?”

“Ma weren’t married.  But she was a good woman.”

I met those angry brown eyes head-on.  “Sounds like it.  I heard she died.  I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”  Sam tossed the ball of wire down.  “I shoulda been there.”

“What happened?”

“I wanted to join the Union army, but Ma begged me not to.  She was scared.  So I stayed.  But Slim, Tex, and me got into it in town and smashed up a saloon.  The damn sheriff locked us up for thirty days.  I didn’t even know she were sick until they told me she’d died.”

“Did you join up after that?”

Sam shook his head.  “I weren’t interested in fighting no more.  ‘Sides, the war was all but over.  We head west instead.”

“And you ended up here, working for Grey.”

“Why not?  He’s a fine man!”

This kid was angry at the whole world.  “Did I say he wasn’t?”

Sam ducked his head.  “Sorry.”

“Forget it.”  I knew what it was to have a temper, and I wasn’t going to hold it against him.

***
Chapter Seven

Filling our cups with more of his deadly coffee, Silas set the pot on the table and sat. “So things are looking good?”

I grinned at Bob, sitting across from me.  “Yessir.  Once I collect the supplies in town tomorrow, we can round up the last of the scattered cattle, do a count, and start them through the dip.”

“Well, it’s no more’n where we should’ve been six weeks ago.  If my hands hadn’t decided to run off.”

“Yeah, but they’re back and we’re almost caught up.  That’s good news, right?”

“No.  It’s fair to middling news.  Having my cattle clean of ticks and knowing what I’ll have to send to market will be good news.”  I met Bob’s eyes and bit down on my bottom lip.  “But, I admit, you’ve done a fair job, Little Joe.  Better than I thought you’d do.  I’ll say this for Ben.  He did a good job raising you not to be afraid of hard work.”

“Thanks.  I’ll be sure and tell Pa.”  If he caught my sarcasm, Silas didn’t show it.  “And once we’ve brought the hay in, I can head home.”

“That keen to get back, huh?”

I smiled.  “I miss Hop Sing’s coffee.”

Bob choked over his mouthful, and Silas frowned.  “You all right?”

The foreman cleared his throat and nodded. 

I took Sam with me for the trip to town.  Leaving him to load the supplies, I headed for the telegraph office to wire an update to Pa.

When I stepped out to head back to the mercantile, I heard myself hailed and turned.  “Hi, Mr. Grey.”

“Joe, it’s Henry, remember?”  I pulled a face to acknowledge my mistake, and he slapped me on the back.  “Got time for a beer?”

“Sure.”  When we passed the mercantile, I poked my head in and told Sam to join us when he’d finished.

Crossing the street, Grey asked, “How’re those boys doing?”

“Fine.”

We took our beers to a table, and Grey got down to business.  “I wanted to speak to you about Silas.  Seeing as you’re a friend and know him well, I thought you might be able to advise me.”

I swallowed my mouthful.  “He’s more a friend of Pa’s.”

“Still, you’ve been working with him for a while.  You can give me your insight.  If you don’t mind?”

Was there any harm in that?  If I couldn’t help, I’d say so.  “Sure.  Ask away.”

“You know about Silas’s creek.  Do you think he’d be open to selling me water rights?  I could dig a channel and divert part onto my land to provide a water hole.”

It was a reasonable request.  We had the same arrangement with other ranchers.  “Can’t hurt to ask.”

“Good.  I’ll ride out tomorrow and speak with him.”

I waved Sam over when he pushed through the saloon doors, and signalled the bartender to bring a beer. 

The kid was a different person around Grey.  Hanging on his every word, he reminded me of myself when I was six and followed my brothers around, copying everything they did, wanting to be like them.  Did Grey notice the way Sam stared?  If he did, he didn’t let on.

We finished our beers and got up to leave.  Grey held out his hand.  “Thanks for the advice, Joe.  I’ll be out to visit Silas like I said.”

“Sure thing.”

“Keep up the good work, Sam.”

A simple enough remark, but the kid turned beetroot and stumbled over his reply. 

After we parted ways, Sam and I walked back to the wagon.  The telegraph operator called me from across the street.  Pa must’ve been in Virginia City; he’d sent a reply.  I spread the sheet of paper.

Do you need help?

I grinned.  Typical, Pa.  But I didn’t need him.  Without any more incidents or mishaps, I’d long since begun to think Grey was an innocent party, and Sam the overenthusiastic hand, after all. 

After sending my negative reply, I jumped up next to Sam, and we headed out.

***
Chapter Eight

Sometimes good intentions come back and bite you on the ass. 

“I never thought I’d see the day when Ben Cartwright’s boy stabbed me in the back.”  Redder than a hot coal, Silas stomped away.  “How could you encourage that hornswoggler?”

“I just told him there wasn’t any harm in asking.  And there wasn’t, was there?  Why didn’t you hear him out?”

From across the room, Silas jabbed a finger at me.  “I know all about them city fellas.  Throwing dust and money in people’s eyes, and before you know it, they’ve stolen everything you own.”

I didn’t understand this harping on the city, and I’d had enough of this old man’s foolishness.  “Mr. Davis, you’ve got no reason to talk like that.  All Mr. Grey wanted was for you to sell him some water rights.”

“It starts with water rights and then what?”

I ran my hand down my face.  “Mr. Davis, if you’d just be reasonable.”

“I don’t hav’ta be reasonable.  Not with my own water!”

The man had a point.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.”

“You should be.  I tell you, boy, I’ll be writing a real disappointed letter to your pa.”

I closed the door and took a deep breath.  Walking to the bunkhouse, I spotted Grey standing by the barn talking to Sam.  After the reception he got from Silas, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was pulling those three out.

The two stopped talking and broke apart when I approached.  “Are we losing our extra hands?”  At Grey’s confused look, I continue.  “Sam and the others.  After all, you didn’t get the water rights.”

“Of course not.  Sam has a job to finish.  Isn’t that right, boy?”

A look was flashed from Grey to me and back again.  “Yessir.”

Sam trudged away, and I grimaced at his boss.  “Look, about what happened—”

“Forget it.  It wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t know why he’s so dead set against you, aside from your being a city slicker.”

Grey chuckled.  “Guilty as charged.  I lived in St. Louis before deciding to become a rancher.  Made my fortune in iron foundries.  But, I had a yearning for fresh air and open country again.”

“Again?”

I followed when he strolled away toward the corral.  The man was in the mood to talk, and I was eager to listen. 

“I wasn’t born in the city.  My folks settled on a small farm in Texas, scratched out a living in the dirt.  But I dreamt of better things.  So I left my family, home, and everyone else I loved behind to find that dream.”

“My pa did the same, only he left the city to come west.”

“Every man has their own dream.  Your mother came with your father?”

“No.  Pa was a widower.  It was just him and my eldest brother.”  Grey nodded.  “You said you left everyone you loved?”

Grey’s steady gaze rested on the skyline, darkening in the dusk.  “I had a girl, Maggie, but she didn’t want to leave her family.  Risk so much.  I was a young man, about your age.  Foolish, headstrong.  I couldn’t understand why she didn’t love me enough to have faith in me.  We argued.  Said things we shouldn’t, and I left without her.”

“You never tried to contact her?”

“Once I made a little money, I wrote.  Told her I’d been a fool, and I was sorry.  She didn’t reply to my letters.  I never saw my Maggie again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s been a lot of years.  A man moves on.”

“I guess.”

Grey put out his hand and I took it.  “Thanks for what you tried to do.”

Frustrated, I watched him ride away.  He was a decent man and would make a good neighbour if only Silas would unbend enough to see it.

I opened the door of the bunkhouse to friendly chatter.  Sam, Tex, and Slim had long since relaxed, joining in the conversations and even playing a round of checkers or poker, although Silas’ strict rule against betting money meant tonight’s game was for toothpicks.  I made my way to Sam, who was watching his friends play checkers. 

Grabbing a chair, I spun it around and hung my arms over the back.  “I guess you’re stuck with us for a while longer.”

Sam shrugged.  “If that’s what Mr. Grey wants.”

“I won’t say we’re not grateful for the extra hands.”

Sam flashed me a look.  The anger in them startled me.  Weren’t we past that?  “Why won’t the old man help Mr. Grey out and sell him the water rights?”

I wish I could’ve told him, but I had no idea why Silas was being so stubborn.  But he was the boss.  “It’s his land and his water, and if Mr. Davis doesn’t want to sell, that’s his right.”

“I thought you liked Mr. Grey.”

“I do.  But that’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Don’t it?  If you could find some way to convince Davis, then—”

The desperation in the kid’s eyes made me ask, “Then, what?”

Sam looked away, but the muscles in his jaw worked.  “Nothin’.  I need some air.”

The three of us watched him go, and I turned to Tex and Slim.  “He thinks a lot of Grey, doesn’t he?”

Tex exchanged a look with Slim before replying, “Mr. Grey’s kinda taken Sam under his wing.  I think he’d just about do anything for him.”

My gaze traveled back to the door.  Just how far would Sam go for the man he admired?  But these two were the same when it came to Sam.  “How long have you three been friends?”

“Since Sam’s ma arrived in town and got a job at my aunt’s café.”

Slim grinned.  “None of us were knee-high to a grasshopper.  But we’ve been friends ever since.”

“And you’d do anything for each other, right?”

“Sure.”

“Is that why you left home with Sam?”

“Well, yeah.  When we got out of jail, Sam found a letter his ma wrote him.  I dunno what she said, but he couldn’t leave fast enough.  We were set to join up with him anyhow, so why not?”

“And you ended up here?”

“Yep.  Sam kept moving, and we kept following.”

Tex continued, “Until we hit Mr. Grey’s place.”

I glanced back at the door.  “And Sam found someone to look up to.”

***
Chapter Nine

Gathering the last of the scattered stock took Sam, Tex, and me into the hills the next day.  It was pretty country, but nothing compared to the Ponderosa.

We dug out six head, and I left Sam to watch them while Tex and I moved further up to flush out the others we’d spotted.  I led the way as we pushed the four head we found down through a narrow ravine. 

“Keep them slow.  If they start to run, they’re likely to break a leg.”

Tex lifted his hand in acknowledgement.  Keeping my horse at a walk, the cattle followed behind.  Slow and steady, we snaked our way down.

The first sign of trouble came with the rumble.  Then Tex yelled, “Look out!”

A cascade of disaster rolled down the sheer rockface ahead of me.  Slewing around in my saddle, I waved at Tex.  “Go back!”  

Panicked, the steers did what dumb cattle always did—stampeded straight at me.  With no room to turn or dodge the cattle, I dug my heels in the flanks of my bay.  It sprang into a gallop.  But there was no time and nowhere to go.

Hauling on the reins, I steered my horse to the ravine wall.  A small ridge stuck out — my lifeline.  Throwing myself under it, I curled into a ball.  It wasn’t much, but it was the only protection as the world crashed down around me.

“Joe. Joe. You all right?”

I coughed and managed to move my fingers.  The weight on my back began to ease as Tex dragged off rock after rock burying me.  Blinking my eyes to clear the grit clinging to my lashes, I looked around.  The dust and rocks were still settling.  Tex had wasted no time in getting to me.

Around the bend, Sam appeared, scrambling over the boulders.  “What happened?”

“Rockslide.  Help me.  Joe’s hurt.”

Time to find out how bad.  When my arms and legs responded to being moved, I let out a sigh of relief.  Tex and Sam shoved the last of the rocks off me and then helped me to my feet.  I could breathe and stand on my own two legs.

The view was grim.  Three steers lay dead.  Another, buried under boulders, bellowed in pain, and my horse screamed and thrashed as it tried and failed to stand on broken legs.  I didn’t need help, but they did.

“Put them out of their misery.”

Left alone, I leaned against the rock face.  Bleeding and bruised, I trembled from head to toe.  My right knee hurt like hell, but other than that, I seemed in pretty good shape.  Two shots rang out — I’d gotten lucky.

Frowning, I looked up.  When I’d ridden along the top of the ravine earlier, I’d seen no sign of loose rocks.  What had caused them to fall?  My gaze went to Sam, who we’d left down below.

“What’re you doing here?” I asked when he walked back to me.

“Hell, soon as I heard that noise, I jumped on my horse.  Figured if you two were anywhere near, you might need help.”  

Was he telling the truth?  If he was, he sure got here fast.  Or, had he been up there the whole time and cut down by the track around the bend?

Tex hauled off his hat.  “Iffin I hadn’t been riding drag, I could’ve ….  Geez, Joe, that were close.”

He wasn’t wrong.  “C’mon, let’s collect the other cattle and get back.”

I found my hat.  Digging it out, I shook it off.  Running a hand through my hair dislodged dirt and debris.  I scuffed it out as best I could.  “I sure hope Silas has a tub I can use.  There’s dirt in places I can’t mention.”  Tex chuckled, and the color returned to his face.  I slapped him on the back.  “Let’s go.”

Wrapped in a blanket with my hair still damp from the bath, I’d propped my leg up on a chair and sipped at a cup of whiskey while I watched Silas tidy away his little medical kit. 

“I’m sorry about the cattle.”

“I can handle losing a few head, boy.  What I can’t handle is losing men.”  I dropped my head and smiled.  The old fraud.  Under that crusty exterior, he cared.  “I guess we can’t blame this one on the city slicker, seeing as how one of his men was involved.”

“I guess not.”  Tilting the cup, I gazed at the amber liquid.  Couldn’t we, though?  Someone up on that ravine could easily see Tex in the rear.  The slide started ahead of us, and anyone with a knowledge of cattle would know they’d stampede straight ahead.  My mind drifted back to Grey and Sam talking.  Was the job Grey said Sam had to do not the one I’d thought?

I rubbed the top of my leg, trying to ease the throbbing in my knee.  From now on, I’d keep Sam close and watch out for Grey.

***
Chapter Ten

“You ain’t walking nowhere on that.”

I blew out a breath and dropped my head back against the bunk house wall.  

The pounding I’d taken the day before kept me awake.  There wasn’t a bone or muscle that didn’t complain, and when I crawled out of my bunk, I couldn’t put any weight on my knee.  When I made it outside, Silas spotted me and stormed across the yard to take a closer look.  I’d already seen myself in the mirror, so I didn’t need the expression on his face to tell me what a mess I looked. 

Sitting me down, he had me roll up my trouser leg and delivered his verdict.

With equal glumness, we both stared at my swollen, bruised knee, turning all sorts of vivid colors. 

“I can still sit a horse.”

“The only thing you’re sitting today is my rocking chair.”

“But—”

“Don’t you but me.  Didn’t your pa teach you better than to argue with your elders?  We got on fine before you arrived, and we’re right about where we should be with the chores, so you can take the time to rest that knee.”

A day resting up sounded tempting, but I had other worries.  “What if I rode in the wagon?  Kept the tallies?”

“Rest means rest.”

“All right, but how about you leave Sam with me?  He can give me a hand when I need it.”

“Mercy, lad.  One minute you’re worriting about leaving me a man short, and the next you wanna keep one here.”  Silas’s bleary eyes sharpened as they fixed on mine.  “Is there something I should know?”

“No, Sir.”

Rest was the plan, but it wasn’t working.  The rocking chair picked up speed, creaking on the porch planks.  Every passing hour tightened the knot in my stomach.  I’d made a stupid mistake.  I should’ve told Silas my suspicions, warned him to watch Sam.  If anyone got hurt, or worse, that would be on me.  When they all rode back, the relief was shattering. 

After supper, I went to have a chat with Silas.

“I was thinking.”

“You were, were you?”

“Maybe it’s time to send Mr Grey’s men back.  Like you said, we’re all caught up on the chores, so we don’t need them anymore, and they’ve worked off their due.”

“He say something to you when he were here the other day?” 

“No.  I just thought it was time.”

Silas walked to the empty fireplace and tapped out his pipe.  I held my tongue.  Any further argument from me could ignite that stubborn streak.

“You’re right, they’ve worked off their debt, and I’ve no wish to end up beholden.  I’ll send them back in the morning.”

“And tomorrow I’ll be back at work.”

“We’ll see about that in the morning.”

I grinned and hobbled out the door.  I let out a breath.  It might not solve all the problems, but at least we wouldn’t have the enemy sitting right among us.

***
Chapter Eleven

My knee had improved, but not enough, and I found myself stuck in the rocking chair for another day.  Although this time, relaxation came easier.  I lay back my head and let the sun on my face, and the back-and-forth motion close my eyes.

The sound of hooves hitting dry earth snapped me awake.  I sat up, seeing the horse rounding the bunkhouse, and tensed when I recognized the rider.  The man didn’t waste any time.

Grey dismounted and strolled up.  “Morning, Joe.  Sam told me about the rockslide.  How’re you feeling?”

“Fine.  What brings you here?”

“Just being neighborly and checking on you.”

“You’ve checked.”

He smiled, but he was shaken.  “Is something wrong?”

“No, we’re all good here.  Mr. Davis lost a few head of cattle.  Nothing he can’t survive.”

“I’m sure glad to hear that.”

“Are you?”

“Of course I am.”  His eyes searched mine.  “But you don’t  believe that, do you?”  I kept my mouth shut.  Grey took a step toward me.  “Joe—”  The click of my hammer froze him to the spot.

“You told Sam he had a job to finish.  He’s not going to get to finish it, and neither will you.”

His jaw tightened, and the warmth in his eyes drained.  Finally, Grey turned and mounted his horse.  “I’ll see you, Joe.”

He rode away, and I slipped my Colt back into its holster hanging over the chair arm.  I might be injured, but I wasn’t stupid.  My head dropped back against the smooth wood.  But if I was wrong, I was sorry. 

That evening, I told Silas everything. 

“I don’t like to say I told you so, but you’ve got to admit, I did.  You can’t trust a city slicker an’ that’s a fact.”

“I’ve met plenty of people who’ve never set foot in a city that I couldn’t trust, but I guess you’re right.”

“Don’t feel too bad about it.  I should’ve expected mistakes from a young fella like you.”

Somehow, this job’s comforter wasn’t helping.  I changed the subject.  “How was the count?”

“I lost twenty-two head, including the ones in that rockslide.  The way those animals were scattered from here to next Sunday, I reckon that’s not so bad.  And even though we’re late starting the dipping, the herd don’t look any the worse for it.”

That was good to know.  I left Silas and made my way to the bunkhouse to organize for the watches to start again from tonight.

***
Chapter Twelve

My knee no longer throbbed.  I threw back the blanket and took a look.  Bruises covered the skin, but the swelling had reduced.  Swinging my legs around, I stood and bit by bit eased my weight onto it.  It hurt, but it held.  I was back!

My gaze scanned the dipping pit before I turned to Bob.  “What d’you think?”

“We’ll be done today.”

“Good.  I’ll take a ride out to the lower meadows and see if the Alfalfa’s ready for a first cut.  If it is, we can start on that tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”

I’d picked a new horse to replace the one killed in the landslide.  Sturdy and calm with an easy gait, the sorrel suited me and my knee fine.

The three-foot-high stems gave way as we moved through the field.  Pulling the sorrel to a stop, I looked around at the landscape of green, awash with purple blooms.  The hay was ripe and ready for cutting.

My hand tightened around my saddle horn.  Now the business with Grey had blown up again, hopes of returning home after the haying faded.  I couldn’t leave Silas facing trouble, but neither could I stay here forever.  On my next trip to town, I’d wire Pa.  Maybe he’d have some ideas.  Turning my horse, I headed back. 

Thinking he was one of our hands, I didn’t give the rider a second thought until I caught the flash of light on metal.  He’d pulled his rifle and started blasting.

Digging heels into its flank, my horse leapt like my heart and galloped toward the nearest cover.  Reaching the scattering of boulders, I dismounted and limped behind the biggest.  Bullets smacked the earth one after the other, sending up a shower of dust, grit, and stone.  The sorrel spooked, shied, and took off for home.  Pulling my Colt, I hunkered down and waited.

The bullets stopped flying, and I peeked over the boulder.  Out of ammunition, the rider cursed and tossed the rifle aside before galloping straight at me.  Was he crazy?  Then, I recognized him.  Sam!

Bullets exploded into the rocks around me.  One caught the boulder I hid behind, sending splinters of rock slicing into my cheek.  I ducked down.  That was close.

Being a sitting duck wasn’t in my nature.  I returned fire.  Sam dived off his horse and ran to the other end of the boulders.  Now we were even.

“I’m gonna kill you, Cartwright!” 

Like the bullets he was firing, Sam sounded wild, out of control.   “Sam, listen.   You kill me, there’s no way back.”

Bullets slammed the side of the boulder and dirt at my feet.   Did he have spares to reload?

I tried again to get through to the kid.  “You don’t hav’ta do this.  Not for Grey.”

“I wanted to get him the water.  Make him proud.”

“Grey was using you.”

“He wants to send me to jail!  You ruined everything!”

Bullets rained down, mixing with my confusion.  When they stopped, I could hear Sam cursing.  Was he out?  Was he reloading again?

I checked my cylinder.  Two bullets left.  Biting my lip, I took a look.  No sign of the kid, and he still hadn’t fired.  If I circled behind before he reloaded, I might get the drop on him.  My knee hurt like hell, and I could no more run than fly.  But I was out of choices.

I broke cover and jolted to a halt.  Sam!  Startled, he pulled the trigger.   The bullet sliced through my arm, throwing me off balance.  The ground rose to smash into my face.  I rolled and fired back.  The kid dived, and I crawled behind the nearest rock. 

Blood soaked my shirt.  I grit my teeth.  It was a flesh wound, but that didn’t stop the nausea rolling my stomach.  I fought it off and focused on the kid with the gun.

“Sam!  You can still stop this.  You haven’t killed anyone yet.”

“I just wanted to make him proud.”

“Why?  Why’s that so important?”

“Because—  Hell!  What does it matter?”

Squinting around the boulder, I watched the kid marching back and forth.  He spun, and I ducked back as another bullet slapped the earth.

“Son of a bitch!  Why’d you tell him?  That stupid rockslide.  I’ve lost everything.  First Ma, and now ….”  He tailed off.   I heard the hitch of his breath and the sob that followed.   Sam was right on top of me.

I rolled out of cover.  There he stood, staring down.  His gun pointed right at me.  My finger curled around my trigger.  I faced a choice. 

“Go on!  Shoot!  Shoot, or I’ll kill you!”  Sam squeezed his trigger, and then came the sound I’d expected—the click of his empty chamber. 

Too heavy to hold upright, I let my barrel dip into the dirt.  “You never wanted to kill me, and you know it.”

The kid’s shoulders slumped, and he brushed a shaking hand across his face.  “Damn you.  Why didn’t you just fire?”

The pounding of hooves caught our attention.  Spinning, Sam snapped up his arm, pointing his gun at the four men riding up.  I saw Grey’s gun clear his holster.

“Wait!”

No one heard me over the sound of the bullet set loose from its barrel.   Sam jerked.  Then his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground.

I crawled to him, watching the crimson stain spread across his shirt, but my panic faded when I saw the rise and fall of his chest.  Yanking the handkerchief from my pocket, I pressed it over the wound.     

“Joe!  Joseph!”  I glanced around at the voice I recognized.

“Pa?”

My father, brother, Mr. Davis, and Grey dismounted and dashed toward us.

Grey looked from Sam to me.  “I’m sorry, Joe.  I had no idea he was capable of this.”

Pa and Hoss were at my side, but I didn’t let go of Sam or look away from Grey.

“Wait!  Mr. Grey, you don’t understand.  I think.   Sam.  He’s your son.”

Sam turned his head and opened his eyes.  “How … how did you know?”

“Only a son would try this hard to make a man proud.”

“What’re you talking about?” Grey demanded.

“Maggie…Maggie Flynn was my ma.”

Grey’s eyes met Sam’s.  “Maggie’s boy?” he whispered, the words catching in his throat.  Dropping to his knees, he pulled Sam into his arms.  A shaking hand cupped his son’s cheek.  “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She didn’t know, not till after you left.” 

Grey drew Sam’s head against his chest, holding him closer.  “What have I done?” 

Blood soaked through my handkerchief and trickled down my fingers.  “Pa, he needs a doctor.”

My father’s face told me what I already knew.  The bleeding was too heavy.  But I’d be damned if we weren’t going to try and save Sam’s life.

***
Chapter Thirteen

Sometimes luck was there when you needed it, or were they really miracles like the ones Pa told me about as a child?  Silas spotting the doctor’s buggy as we rode back to his place was the miracle Sam needed.  Hoss fired three shots, and when the buggy stopped, he took off to round up the man. 

Chaos slipped into an uneasy calm.  Hoss cleaned and wrapped my wound with Pa watching on, while Grey sat across the room, clasping his hands between his knees.  Blood stained his clothes, but he didn’t notice.

“How’s the arm?” Pa asked.

“Fine.”

“Seems like you can’t go anywhere without losing a chunk outta you’re hide.”

I smiled at Hoss, grateful for lightening the mood.

Handing around coffee, Silas tapped Grey on the shoulder.  “The doc’s a good man.  The boy’s in the best hands.”

“Thank you, Mr. Davis.”

“Y’know, Henry, I reckon you’d best start calling me Silas.”

~~~

The sun was high in the sky by the time the doctor came out of Silas’s bedroom.  Wiping his hands dry, he looked at our expectant faces.

“He’s lost a damn sight more blood than I would’ve liked, but I reckon he’s got a chance.”

The collective sigh was followed by Henry asking, “Can I see him?”

“I’ve given him something for the pain, but you can sit with him.  Now, let’s check this fella’s arm.”

Grinning at Pa, I handed myself over to the doc. 

We’d eaten the supper Silas had made before Henry appeared again.  Crammed into the small parlor, he told us the rest of Sam’s story.

“Maggie never got the letters I wrote.  If her parents sent them on to her aunt’s, I’ll never know.  She believed I’d moved on and left her behind, but she never blamed me.”  He paused and gazed down into his cup of coffee.  Thinking of his lost love?

Hoss broke the silence, “Yeah, but how’d your son know where to find you?”

“When I moved here, a newspaper reporter wrote a story about me.  It was full of nonsense about how I sold my iron foundries in order to return to a simpler life here in the West.  Silly, flowery stuff.”

“He’s right.  I read it,” Silas griped.

“It got published in a few papers, and somehow Maggie saw and kept it.  When she got sick, she wrote a letter to Sam and enclosed it.  She told him to find me.”

“That’s all well and good, but why didn’t the dang idiot just tell you right from the start he was your son?”

I winced at Silas’ words, but Henry didn’t seem to notice.

“Maggie never wanted him to think ill of me.  She filled his head with foolish tales, putting me on a pedestal.  Then that article made him think I would look down on him.”  Grey shook his head, regret edged his voice, “He was afraid he wouldn’t be good enough for me.”

Pa smiled.  “Sometimes young men get foolish notions fixed into their heads.”

Grey returned the smile, then ran his hands down his thighs and looked at me.  It was strange how the father had taken on the weight of his son’s stupidity.  “He’ll have to face what he did to you, Joe.   I’ve told him we’ll pay the sheriff a visit as soon as he’s recovered.”

I lifted my arm with the fresh bandage wrapped around it.  “What this?  Nothing but a misunderstanding.”

“Joe.  He could’ve killed you.”

I threw Pa a look.  I understood his feelings, but I wasn’t about to see the kid live only to send him to jail.

“Ben’s right, Joe.  Sam needs to face up to his mistakes.  And believe me, he knows it too, and he’s willing.”

“And that’s good enough for me.  I don’t know what jail will do for him that your guidance won’t.”

The relief that crossed his face told me I’d won the argument.

“Thank you.  I think I’ll go sit with him again.”

“I thought the doctor said he was sleeping.”

Pausing, Henry looked at Pa.  “He did, but I’ve never had the chance to take care of my son until now.  I won’t waste any more chances.”

I pursed my lips to hide my smile.  Pa couldn’t argue with that. 

The door closed behind one father, and the thoughts of another turned to me.  “All I can say, Joseph, is that you were lucky.  If I’d had any idea you’d be heading into trouble like this—”

“You think I couldn’t handle it?”

“Of course not.”

“That reminds me.  What’re you both doing here?”

Hoss bit his top lip and became fascinated with the fireplace.  Pa shifted in his seat.  “I know you said you didn’t need help, but we thought we’d travel down anyway.”

“They arrived slap bang at the same time Grey rode in yelling about how he’d confronted that young scallywag over that rockslide—”

“Rockslide?”

I waved Pa down and let Silas go on.  “Anyway, the kid ran off shouting how he was gonna make you pay.  So Grey raced right over to warn you.”

“Fences damaged, barns burned, rockslides.  What else don’t I know about?”

“Let’s get some fresh air, Pa, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

I limped out the door, and I was grateful to see that he followed.  When I lowered myself into the rocker, my father pulled up a stool.  I needed to explain why Silas had done what he did.  Sure, Pa would still be mad, but I knew he’d understand.

When we stepped back into the house, Silas had the whiskey out.  Handing Pa a glass, he grimaced.  “I guess you’re kinda mad with me about now, ain’t you, Ben?”

“Not as mad as I might be.  Thanks to Joseph.”

When the old man cut me a surprised look, I smiled.  Sitting back down, Silas added,  “But in my defense.  I did expect you to send your eldest or at least the big one there.”

I rolled my eyes.

** The End **
2/8/2025

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