The Three Musketeers

by jfclover

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I would always be the youngest.  I would never be my father’s right-hand man.  That was my eldest brother’s job, and if something ever happened to Adam, Hoss would step in and take over as second in command.  Our pa could be buried six feet under before I ever got to add my two cents to the decision-making and subsequent growth of the Ponderosa.

More often than not, I took orders without complaint, but there were times when I got tired of being the baby of the family.  It didn’t sit well, and that’s when my temper would get the better of me, and I’d lose control.  Taking orders from my brothers was common practice, but being looked down on because I was too young to have a brain in my head was another thing altogether.  Today was just one of those days.  I felt sorry for myself and moaned and groaned about things I couldn’t change, but doggonit.  I didn’t want to spend my entire life being low man on the totem pole.

*~*~*~*

Our lives changed the day Adam and Hoss left for San Francisco.  “You boys stay safe.  Send us a wire when you get settled.”

“Sure will, Pa.  Me and Adam will try to stay off that there Barbary Coast.”

“You’d better.  I don’t want any of my sons getting shanghaied.” 

I grabbed hold of Pa’s right arm.  “Might be kind of nice, Pa.  Things might go a lot smoother around here.”  I thought my father would have a good laugh, but my joke fell flat. 

“Enough of that, Son.”

“Yessir.”

After seeing my brothers off on the westbound stage, Pa and I rode home together, each pulling a mount behind us.  Pa had Chubby’s reins, and that left me with Sport, but he behaved better for me than for my brother.

After we rode into the yard, Pa handed me the reins to both mounts.  “Can you take care of all four, Son?”

“Sure thing, Pa.”

Everyone should tend his own horse.  My father taught me that, and then he leaves me with four to curry and feed.  Life wasn’t fair, and my sunny disposition darkened like a rain-filled cloud.  Sure, I’d do as I was asked, but then I wondered.  Would Pa have asked Adam to tend all four?

When the job was finished, I was tired and hungry and ready to sit down to a hot meal.  Though Hop Sing would have something harsh to say, I slipped in through the kitchen door anyway.  I needed to wash up, and I didn’t want to haul myself upstairs.

Something wasn’t right.  Nothing was simmering on the stove.  No hot dinner tonight, but why?  It wasn’t like Hop Sing to let us down like that, and I became curious until I heard a voice I didn’t recognize.  The man spoke in a deep baritone that wasn’t Pa’s, and it sure as heck wasn’t our cook, but who in the world?

“There’s nothing worthwhile in the safe.  Maybe fifty or sixty dollars, and if you take it and leave, it’s all yours.”

That was my father’s voice, and after hearing his calm demeanor, I knew what he was trying to do.  He didn’t want anyone hurt.  He didn’t want the situation to worsen, but how many men and how many guns were holding Pa and Hop Sing hostage?

I needed time to think, but time wasn’t on our side.  Where had they left their horses?  What was their getaway plan?  My father’s thoughts were probably on me.   I knew what he was thinking.  He’d assume I’d come busting through the front door, startle the gunman, and get myself shot.  Well, not this time.

I listened at the dining room doorway for any more talk, or for the sound of a second man’s voice.  Hop Sing’s hands were bound, and he sat on the edge of Pa’s leather chair.  Our cook was holding up, but he looked awful frightened.  If I could get his attention….

That’s when my luck changed, and Hop Sing looked my way.  With my hand cradling my holster, he realized I was armed, and if he could give me a sign, we could end this thing together.  I put all my hope on our cook.  I knew he could do the job.

A surprise attack was our only chance, and without making a sound, I eased through the dining room and then waited.  When Hop Sing nodded his head, I leaped forward and leveled my Colt at the gunman.  “Drop it!” 

Caught off guard, he twirled and fired, but his bullet lodged in the wall.  And then he began to laugh.  “You’re just a kid.”

“A kid with a gun, Mister.”  Though his laughter ended, he turned his gun on Hop Sing.  “The Chinaman dies first.”

Though I tried to hold my gun steady, I was frozen with fear.  This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.  I should’ve come out firing.  I should’ve shot him right off.  Pa knelt on one knee in front of the safe, and though his back was turned toward me, he looked over his shoulder when the commotion began.

I wanted to say, “I messed up, Pa, and I’m sorry.”  But my father had other plans.  With the gunman still facing me, it gave my pa the chance to pounce like a cat on a mouse.  The man’s gun went flying across the wood floor, and when I raced forward to kick his pistol farther away, the robber got a good, solid punch to my left eye.

As I came back to my senses, I was in my father’s arms.  Tears filled his eyes as he stroked the untamed mop of hair that he always banged on about.   But those weren’t his words this time. 

“You saved my life, Son.”

I tried to smile, but the ache in my cheekbone stopped me.  “Not just me, Pa.  You, me, and Hop Sing.  The three musketeers of the Ponderosa!

The End

4 – 2026