~THE HORSE OPERATION~
by jfclover
“Ride ‘em, Joe!” Hoss whooped. “Stick with ‘em, Boy!”
Joe’s newest prize twisted and turned and bucked and ducked, but he handled the ride with such ease that we all stood in wonder. No other wrangler had the same sense of balance and control as my youngest son. Although I held my breath during every ride, calling him a natural became a word we’d all use.
By himself, he’d hauled three spirited mares home from the wild herd he’d spotted only days ago. He’d yet to hire new wranglers although I sensed as the operation grew, he’d have to find men qualified for the job. A one-man operation would never reach its full potential.
Joseph had never been a loner. He’d always enjoyed the company of friends and family, but this was a different Joe, a quieter, more Adam-like Joe. Hard work had been a solace for him. As soon as his leg and arm had healed from bullet wounds he encountered trying to prevent a stage holdup, his new life became all business.
With Andy in Placerville and Joe on the Ponderosa, my son had set a new course for his future. Andy chose to move forward and according to the letters he sent, he found what he’d been looking for. He had steady employment and Marianne—the young lady who’d helped them find their way—had become his fiancée.
After Hoss and Adam loaded the next horse into the pen, Joe climbed on the mare’s back and steadied himself for another tough ride. Hoss pulled the gate open, and my heart went to my throat. Joe was a good rider, no question, but I still had the right to worry.
I gripped the top rail with white knuckles and listened to my elder sons whoop and holler as Joe gripped the reins with his left and let his right arm strive for balance. Joe’s thoughts were so concentrated on finishing the ride in one piece, could he even be aware of the rallying excitement that surrounded him?
Three difficult rides were enough for one day, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the work ended, and we could head back to the house for lunch. The mares would be ridden repeatedly over the next couple of weeks though future rides wouldn’t be as harrowing as the first. Before they were ready to sell, they’d be gentled enough that an Eastern belle could ride and never have an inkling that her mount had been wild and free only weeks before.
Adam had nearly stopped me from giving Joe the horse operation. “He’s too young. He’s too inexperienced.” Those had been his concerns every time he weighed in on the subject. We all saw a side of Joe that wasn’t expected. Even Adam was curious about the “new” Joe, the kid who was no longer a kid at all. The kid with a certain boyish charm and a willful side had been lost to us forever. We needed to get it back.
Lunch should have been a time to relax and enjoy Hop Sing’s fine meal, but it took Joe longer than most to settle down, to calm the adrenalin running inside him. That was his nature, and that part of him hadn’t changed. He was all business, though. The horse operation was small but growing. He’d sold five or six mounts already, and he’d become obsessed over selling his horses to the army. That’s where real money could be made.
“What do you think, Pa? Think the army would be interested?”
“It’s possible, Son. Anything’s possible.”
“Who do I contact? How do I get my name out there?”
I set my fork down and contemplated my ambitious son. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“You bet I am.”
“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? The army will need more horses than you can provide.”
“Not if I hire a couple of wranglers.”
“You’re talking about a full-fledged business, Son. Are you sure you’re ready for an operation that big?”
“Isn’t that how you got started? Two head of cattle then two more until you had a herd worth taking to market?”
“Yes, but …”
“But what? This isn’t just a hobby. I want to be somebody, Pa. I don’t want to be labeled as Ben Cartwright’s youngest son and nothing more for the rest of my life. I want to make a name for myself.”
Joe’s statement caught me off guard, and I struggled for the right thing to say. The Ponderosa had flourished over the years because we all worked together for a common goal. Maybe Joe didn’t realize and maybe he did, but he was trying to break from the fold and run his own company rather than all of us working as one. I found myself at a loss for words. My elder sons were speechless too. I had to say something. I wanted to encourage the boy but somehow, this didn’t seem right.
“Are you sure this is how you want things to go?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me put it this way. We’ve always worked together as a family. Cattle drives, timber, mining. That’s what makes the Ponderosa prosper. A horse operation would do the same, but it sounds to me like you want to run things on your own without consulting the family.”
“I wasn’t itching for a fight, Pa. I was hoping for your approval.”
“I’m not saying no, Joseph.”
“Then what are you saying? I’m not good enough, right? I’m not smart enough to run a business on my own.”
“Did you hear anything I said?”
“Just forget it.”
Joe dropped his napkin on his plate, and he ran out the front door before I could register why the sudden anger. I glared at Adam and then Hoss. “Well?”
“Beats me, Pa. That boy’s all tangled up in knots. He wants to be all growed up and he’s still just a kid.”
“I wonder if it has something to do with Andy.”
“What do you mean, Adam?”
“Andy’s worked his way up the ladder and has become an important person in the hotel business. Joe still lives at home with Papa and has to play by the rules. It makes sense that he’d want to build himself up in front of his best friend.”
Adam’s theory made sense, but that’s not how we operated, and Joe needed to understand that if we all worked together …
“Joe was only fourteen when he was taken,” Adam continued. “He was a schoolboy and had no interest in ranch business. There was food on the table and a clean, soft bed to sleep in. That’s all that mattered. He partook in the good life. He didn’t think about how it all got here.”
“Adam’s right, Pa. He’s kinda learning as he goes. He don’t know all the ins and outs. Maybe he wants to show off like Adam said. Maybe that’s important to him.”
“What do you boys think? Do we let him contact the army? Do we let him profit aside from the ranch?”
Adam spoke first. “I say yes. Let him venture out on his own and make his own mistakes. You know it won’t be smooth sailing. Let him learn from those mistakes.”
“Hoss?”
“I’m with Adam, Pa. Let him learn the hard way.”
I grimaced at Hoss. “He might prove worthy, you know. There might not be any mistakes.”
Hoss shook his head. “Pretty optimistic, Pa.”
I stood from my chair. “Even if you two don’t, I have faith in Joseph. I’ll let him know we’re all in agreement.”
*
Chapter 2
Major Morrison of the 123rd had been contacted, and he sent an eager reply.
“`
Mr. Cartwright.
I’ll swing by Virginia City next month to discuss your offer.
Major Gerald Morrison. U.S. Army.
“`
Joe couldn’t contain himself after reading the wire sent directly to him. Though I’d made the mistake of opening the missive when a boy rode out to the ranch, I slipped the wire back inside the envelope and handed it over to Joseph when he and Hoss returned from the north pasture.
“Can you believe it, Pa? He’s coming here to meet me.”
Just seeing my youngest so happy made me smile along with him. “You’re on your way, Son.”
“I need to hire wranglers this afternoon.”
I stood from behind my desk. “May I make a suggestion?”
“Sure, Pa.”
“Why don’t you hold off until after your meeting? The major may not need fresh mounts at this time.”
“Oh, yeah. You might be right. Okay, I’ll wait. But it’s a start, right? He might need twenty-five or even fifty new mounts. Just think, Pa. Just think.” Joe clapped Hoss’ belly. “Maybe I should put you to work.”
“That pains my ears something fierce, Little Brother. No way I’m climbing up on one of them crazy Mustangs. That’s your job, not mine.”
““`
Joseph dressed for the occasion. A clean, pressed shirt and black string tie gave the appearance of someone older than just seventeen. His hair had grown out enough that he’d had the barber cut most of the white out. A few blonde tips carried a remembrance of the past, but I could sense Joe felt better when those faded white curls ended up on the barber’s floor.
“Wish me luck, Pa.”
To be that young and eager. “I wish you all the luck in the world, Son. You’ll do fine.”
“You think?”
“Of course. You’re a Cartwright, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Guess I am at that.”
“Go on, now. Don’t be late.”
The second wire from Major Morrison asked that Joseph meet him at two o’clock sharp at the International House. Our new hotel had just been completed a month earlier and longtime residents of the mining town began voicing their complaints about Virginia City’s rapid growth.
Like it or not, we were becoming a prominent Western city. New restaurants and saloons opened their doors. Merchants from the eastern seaboard ventured west to strike it rich off the new arrivals. They stocked everything from picks and shovels to dungarees and candlesticks, hardtack and jerky to simple medical supplies. The town was booming.
Though I volunteered to go with him, Joseph rode in alone. “I can handle the major,” he said. His confidence belied his age, and I wished him well.
I stayed at the ranch and delved into the mound of paperwork on my desk. Joseph would be fine. Joseph was capable. I struggled to convince myself I wasn’t needed, and I had to accept that all three of my sons were grown men and could handle projects without my constant input or approval.
I’d taught Hoss and Adam well, but what about Joseph? I’d missed three years of his life, and he’d missed three years of everything his brothers and I had to offer. Joe’s training into adulthood had come from a manual written for recruits, a set of rules and regulations that resulted in diverse consequences and harsh punishments. There’d been no love or understanding, no one but Johansson to guide his captives in the ways of the world.
How different would our relationship be if I’d guided my son through that tenuous time in his life? For three years, Joe tried to buck the system and in time, he learned to think for himself and care for himself, and the horse operation proved a perfect example. Being told what to do was no longer an option. He’d fought that battle once, and he was determined to set his own path. He didn’t need his family to guide him, and he didn’t need me. Those days were lost and gone forever.
When I heard hoofbeats in the yard, I pushed my paperwork aside and rushed out the front door. I wanted to hear every detail though I had to use caution and not push too hard. Joe wasn’t the boy he’d once been. No longer did he bounce off the walls with a story to tell. He valued his privacy, and I had to do the same.
“How’d it go, Son?”
Joe had started for the barn and hadn’t heard me walk up. “Oh, hi, Pa. It went fine.”
I questioned Joe’s lack of enthusiasm. Maybe the boy didn’t bounce off walls anymore, but maybe things didn’t go as fine as he’d planned. I tried a different approach. “Was the captain interested?”
Joe pulled Cochise inside the stall and reached for the cinch before giving a one-word answer. “Yeah.”
“Well? How many does he want?”
He flung his saddle and blanket over the half-wall. “Five.”
“Only five?”
“To start.”
“Oh. And then what?”
“He didn’t say.”
Had Joseph’s age been a deterrent for the captain? Had he been hesitant to buy stock from a kid who looked even younger than his actual age?
Joe’s slight build and boyish looks may have had something to do with his reluctance to order more mounts at this time.
Joe turned my way but didn’t look me straight in the eye. “I don’t think he trusts me.”
“Why do you think that, Son?”
Joe shrugged his shoulders. “Just a feeling I have.”
“It’s one thing to have good insight, Joe, but don’t dismiss the captain altogether. You’re new to the horse trade. You haven’t built up a name for yourself, and the captain is only using caution.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“How ‘bout a cup of coffee?”
“Sounds good.”
Joe and Hoss delivered five gentled mounts the next day. Major Morrison had stationed his regiment five miles north of Virginia City, and the way Hoss told the story to Adam and me, Joe should’ve been grinning ear-to-ear.
“He had two of his young soldiers check the new stock. They ran their hands from top to bottom before they saddled each one and rode out to an old cottonwood and back. You should’ve heard them boys praise Joe for bringing out decent mounts rather than the nags they was used to getting. I’d never seen young men so excited.
“Then the captain gave his two cents.” Hoss looked down at Joe. “You wanna tell them or should I?”
Adam and I glanced at Joe.
“Go ahead, Brother. You seem to remember more’n I do.”
“So the captain comes up to Joe and claps his shoulder like they’d been best friends for years and ordered twenty-five more. Twenty-five, Pa! Said he’d spread the word about Joe Cartwright Enterprises.”
“What’s that you said?”
“Joe Cartwright Enterprises, Pa. That’s the name of Joe’s operation.”
“When did this come about?”
Hoss looked back at Joe. “Joseph?”
“Um, well, when Major Morrison asked, I had to come up with a name quick-like, and that’s the first thing that came to mind. Is something wrong, Pa?”
I hesitated but thought otherwise. “No. The name’s just fine.”
Though I didn’t look at Adam, I felt him staring in my direction. Never before had we separated Cartwright businesses. Adam saw over our mining ventures, and Hoss supervised most of the logging, but they were Cartwright enterprises. Nothing had been singled out as Adam’s business or Hoss’s business, but Joe didn’t understand the concept of working together as a family. Hoss didn’t seem to mind, but Adam wouldn’t dismiss the anomaly anytime soon.
Joe had yet to hire wranglers to help with the job, and he asked if Hoss could ride out to the wild herd and help him bring back a new string. I agreed to let Hoss go, but I had more to say.
“I won’t have you breaking twenty-five horses alone, Son. I want you to hire two men when you return.”
“Two? That cuts a bit deep into my profits, Pa.”
“Deep or not, I won’t have you killing yourself over a “bit” of extra profit. If you’re in this for the long haul, I expect you to use your head. If something should happen to you, where does that leave Joe Cartwright Enterprises? Nowhere.”
“But, Pa.”
“This isn’t up for discussion, Joseph.”
“Pa’s right, Little Joe. You ain’t no good to no one with another busted leg.”
“Fine. I’ll hire two men when we get back.”
We all stood from the dining room table. “How ‘bout a game of checkers, Little Brother. I ain’t gonna let you cheat me this time neither.”
“I’m kinda tired, Hoss. Think I’ll go up to bed. Night everyone.”
Three sets of eyes watched Joe leave the room. Not a trace of excitement that should’ve been evident, after his trip to see the captain, showed as he traipsed up the stairs to bed. Had I overstepped again? Too bad if I had. Joseph was still my son, and I had every right to protect him the best I could.
Without Andy, he had no one to voice his complaints to except family. If going to his room to pout was the answer then so be it. Something was stuck in his craw, and I had no way of knowing what that something was. He would’ve shared his feelings with his friend, though this time, I didn’t think he’d take off again over a simple disagreement. The boy had too much at stake.
*
Chapter 3
When the boys and I came down for breakfast the following morning, Hop Sing informed us that Joe hadn’t eaten, which upset our cook to no end, and that he’d hightailed it to Virginia City just after sunrise.
“You suppose he went looking for wranglers?”
“I have to assume that’s his intent, Adam.”
“See. He’s doing exactly what you wanted, Pa.” Hoss clapped my back and nudged me toward the table. “Let’s eat.”
Praying Hoss was right, Joe still worried me. I couldn’t read him, and it frustrated me to no end. As much as I tried to give him full rein and let him run his business as he saw fit, I was on edge, constantly wondering if I’d done right by my youngest son or my older boys. Adam especially. He fought to keep his thoughts to himself and that had become a concern. We were family. We’d always been open and upfront with each other. Things were different now.
When Joseph returned, I felt that sense of relief that comes over every father when he’s in doubt. The boys were right. He’d gone to Virginia City. He hadn’t run away, and I gave him time to stable his horse before I moseyed outside to greet him.
“How’d it go, Son?”
“I hired two men. They’ll grab their gear and ride out this afternoon.”
“Good. That’s real good, Joe.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
Joe might have been the best horse breaker in the territory; his fearless nature gave that extra boost of confidence every time he lowered himself onto the saddle of an untamed bronc. “Think they can hold their own?”
“We’ll start this afternoon with the new string Hoss and I brought back. I’ll know by suppertime if they’re worth their weight.”
“Fingers crossed.”
He half-smiled, and I took immense pleasure every time Joe unburdened himself from the past and was able to relax. A partial smile was an accomplishment, a hint that he could move forward and become whole again.
It was anyone’s guess whether Joe enjoyed the three of us cheering him on when he mounted a wild one, but after we lined up along the corral fence and hooped and hollered like wild banshees, he kept focused on the ride.
We also watched the newcomers, who took the job seriously even though it was only temporary employment. Busting broncs was a young man’s game, and the two boys he hired fit the part. Young like Joe, each boy rode with wild abandon until the horse stilled. The first day was marked by only one or two spills and no major injuries. Bruised bodies and bruised egos told the tale. Joe included.
After three full days, the young men were entitled to a much-needed rest. No bronc-busting on day four. Joseph had other plans, and he and his wranglers rode out. “Be back in time for supper,” he said.
Chasing a herd of mustangs through rolling hills and open pastures was nearly as grueling as readying new mounts for the army, but Joe set his sights on the prize. A payday for all, and wasting time wasn’t part of the deal.
By day’s end, each boy led three new horses into the breaking corral. Mission accomplished according to Joe. I watched for a tinge of excitement, but Joe was all business. Even with his brothers’ coaxing during supper, he had little to say.
“You busting them new ones tomorrow?”
“Yep.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, Joe. Ain’t you taking even one day off?”
“Yes, he is,” I said.
Joe’s fork clanged when it hit his plate. “But, Pa …”
“Sunday is a day of rest, Joseph. Not only for you, but your wranglers need time off too if you plan to keep them working at such a feverish pace.”
“I promised Major Morrison I’d have twenty-five horses ready by month’s end.”
“The 31st is eighteen days away, Son. That’s plenty of time.”
“If there ain’t no broken bones,” Hoss added.
“Pushing your men at breakneck speed isn’t the answer, Joe. A day of rest won’t set you behind schedule. I guarantee you’ll see many broken bones if the three of you are worn to a frazzle.”
“If you say so.”
“I say so.”
“Since we ain’t working tomorrow,” Hoss said, “how ‘bout we all ride into town? Don’t a cold beer sound good, Joseph?”
Joe looked up but his answer wasn’t immediate. I didn’t know what kind of bruising lay under his shirt and pants or if he could even sit a saddle after the day he’d had.
“Why not, Big Brother.”
“How ‘bout you, Adam?”
“I’m game.”
“After services, of course,” I said.
The boys rolled their eyes and pushed back from the table. I hadn’t been invited to join the party, and I didn’t mention the fact that a cold beer sounded good to me too. Instead, I moved to my overstuffed chair and lit my pipe, a sign of contentment for all to see. I opened the latest periodical and perched it on my lap.
After church, the boys strapped on their gun belts, which I insisted be looped over their saddle horns before entering a house of worship.
“Pa?” Joe called before they turned to walk away. “You didn’t want to come with us, did you?”
“No, not today, Son. You boys have fun.”
Joe had informed Jimmy and Markus there’d be no more work until early Monday morning, and they better not be hung over. They’d better be ready to ride. I’m sure the boys were thrilled, as they wasted no time getting to town on Saturday night.
My two older boys flanked Joseph as they crossed the dusty street to the nearest saloon. After a few beers and maybe a few hands of cards, Adam and Hoss would slip into protection mode before guiding their young brother home. I had no reason for concern.
Barroom brawls are a common occurrence. A miss-said word or a spilled beer could easily rile a man looking for a fight. I had no reason to think my sons would come home bloody and bruised, but that’s exactly what happened. All three bore scrapes and Joe had the beginnings of a god-awful shiner when they stumbled through the front door.
At some point I’d fallen asleep, the open newspaper rested on my lap but fell to the floor when I blinked sleep from my eyes. As my boys entered the house, I pushed up from the chair, and that’s when I noticed the set of their jaws and the shadowing of bruises forming on three sets of cheekbones. I even narrowed my eyes for a better look. If they’d discussed who’d talk first, their plan wasn’t working. No one said a word.
“Hoss?”
“Ask him.” He pointed to Adam.
“Adam?”
“Ask him.” He nudged his young brother.
“Joseph?”
“It just happened, Pa. No big deal.”
My hands flew to my hips. “A face full of bruises is no big deal? Something happened.”
Hoss cleared his throat. “It was that Carl Michelson, Pa. And all his ranch hands.”
“What about him.”
“Tell him, Joe.”
“Major Morrison canceled his order with Michelson and gave it to me.”
“Oh, I see.”
“My horses are better.”
I tapped my lip with my index finger while I took it all in. Joe had become the target for a man humiliated by—in his eyes I’m sure—a kid who didn’t need the money or the prestige of selling extraordinary mounts to the army.
Joe knew horses. He knew how to pick the best of the lot and tame them without breaking their spirit. It took someone who cared about each animal, and that was my son. He’d never hobble or whip to maintain control. Mostly, he used his voice and the horse’s sense of smell as a way of gentling the wildness out of them before he ever threw a saddle over their backs.
“You boys better clean up and get ready for supper.
Hoss slung his arm across Joe’s shoulders and they headed for the stairs. Adam hung back and waited until they hit the top landing before he spoke. “Joe did what he had to do.”
“I know, and I understand, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. Barroom brawls never settle the score. Tensions run high. I get that, but you know as well as I do that this isn’t the end. Carl is too prideful to let a youngster like Joe win all the marbles.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Keep your eyes open, Adam.
Keep the boy safe.”
“I will. Hoss will too.”
*
Chapter 4
As we neared the end of the month, twenty-five new mounts were ready to be tested. Each horse was ridden one final time, and every horse met his or her mark. Joe asked his brothers if they’d help deliver the new mounts and, of course, they agreed. No one was safe from Michelson and his crew of rowdies, and we all wanted the handoff to go without a hitch.
Joe took off first. Each man led five horses from the corral and formed a line behind their leader. Bypassing Virginia City, they would follow a trail rarely used by anyone other than Cartwrights. The group would ride north over Ponderosa land and turn right at a narrow cutoff that would lead them straight into Morrison’s camp. Joe’s plan seemed flawless.
I waved goodbye, but I doubt anyone noticed the concern I felt deep in my gut. Though each man was armed, their main concern would be keeping the five mounts they hauled in pristine condition and not suffering an injury. I prayed for their safety and walked back inside the house. My boys would return before supper.
Clouds moved in early. What began as a beautiful summer day changed in an instant. A fierce gust of wind scared the squirrels from the trees and songbirds became silent when limbs bent wildly under Mother Nature’s wrath.
I opened the front door and watched the deluge of rain and then hail. Though not large, the fierce pounding usually caused damage. I glanced at Marie’s roses as delicate little petals gave way and swirled in puddles that covered the ground. I could barely see the barn although the stock was safe inside. Sally would protect her calf, but her milk would probably dry up for the next two days. I could hear Hop Sing now.
Looking northward, the steel-gray sky gave nothing away. I tried to track the storm’s path, but my endeavor was useless. My sons should have delivered their mounts by now and would be on their way home. Besides, Hoss could sense a change in the atmosphere before it was ever a thought for anyone else. How many times had he mentioned his bunions or some other anomaly that proved him right?
“Boys gone long time,” Hop Sing noted as if I hadn’t realized.
“Keep supper warm. They should be home shortly.”
I felt anxious too, but I wouldn’t let on to our cook. He’d have me riding out after my sons, but they were capable men. They didn’t need Papa running to their rescue. Maybe a horse lost a shoe or came up lame. Everyday problems were expected. Thirty horses traveling a narrow path may have proved riskier than they first thought, and the storm had slowed them down, that’s all.
By eight o’clock, Hop Sing quit fussing about supper and stood on the front porch beside me. With his hands clasped behind his back he, too, stared and listened for five weary riders to round the barn and enter the yard. I patted the little cook’s back and turned toward the front door. “The boys probably made camp, Hop Sing.”
“Have no food. Have no bedroll on saddle. Not make camp on wet ground.”
Perhaps he was right though nothing could be done tonight. I’d saddle my horse at first light and ride out.
*
Chapter 5
When I reached Major Morrison’s camp, his troops were pulling up stakes. The horses had been delivered and milled around in a rope-constructed corral. A young man approached and waved his hat, signaling me to stop and state my business.
“I’m here to see the captain. It’s important.”
“Name, Sir?”
“Cartwright.”
“Wait here.”
The soldier dashed off toward a large A-frame tent and spoke to another young man, who popped his head inside the structure and then walked alongside Morrison in my direction. I dismounted and led Buck to meet the man halfway. I’d never met the captain, but he would recognize my name.
“Mr. Cartwright?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m Joseph’s father.”
Fiftyish and ruggedly handsome, the captain smiled. “Quite a son you have there, Mr. Cartwright.”
“Thank you.”
“When I first met Joe, I hesitated to deal with someone his age. I’ll admit, I thought he was full of hot air and doubted his ability to deliver prime stock, but he appeared quite eager to prove me wrong. He convinced me to take a chance on him, and I’m glad I did. These are some of the best mounts these troops have ever seen.”
“My son worked hard, and his work paid off. There’s a lesson to be learned in that too.”
“I’d ask you to join me for coffee, but we’re about ready to pull out. Was there anything else on your mind?”
“Yes, there is. My sons didn’t return home last night. Can you tell me what time they started back?”
The captain bit his bottom lip as he thought back to the transaction. “Between two and three I believe. Mentioned something about getting home by suppertime.”
“That was the plan.”
“I’d be glad to send a couple of my men to help you scout the area.”
“That’s not necessary, Captain. They drove the horses up the back way, but they might have headed to Virginia City when the storm hit.”
“That was a helluva storm. Makes sense to me that five young cowboys might choose a dry saloon over riding in the rain.”
I chuckled at the captain’s candor. “You’re probably right.” I offered my hand. “I’ll be on my way.”
“It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Cartwright. I hope to do business with your son again. I’ll pass the word around about Joe Cartwright Enterprises.”
Filled with pride over my son’s accomplishment, I rode toward Virginia City. My boys would think me a fool for traipsing all over heck and back looking for them. It was clear to me now that the boys spent the night in town and were probably sitting at home laughing at their old man. But, even old cowboys like the sound of a cold beer, and I hitched Buck in front of the saloon.
“Give me a cold one, Bruno.”
“Comin’ right up, Mr. Cartwright.” He slid the mug down in front of me. “Heard about your boys last night.”
“The boys? Were they here?”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Word around town is that one of Michelson’s hired guns took a potshot at Little Joe sometime last night. Knowing them boys of yours, they’re probably still at Doc’s.”
My heart pounded as I raced out of the saloon and down two blocks to Doc Martin’s. No familiar horses had been left out front, but Hoss would have seen to their mounts shortly after they arrived. I tore through the front door to find no one sitting in the parlor or Paul’s corner office.
“Hello? Anyone here?”
Adam opened the door where Paul performed surgeries and set broken bones. “Pa.”
“What happened?”
“Didn’t Hoss tell you?”
“Long story, Son, but no. I haven’t seen Hoss.”
Adam looked surprised by my statement. I explained. “I left early this morning and rode up to Morrison’s camp. What happened to Joe?”
Adam would’ve smiled, maybe even rolled his eyes if the situation weren’t so dire. “Joe’s been shot.”
“How bad?”
Paul stepped outside his surgery and pulled the door closed behind him. “Morning, Ben.” With pressed white sleeves rolled past his elbows, he looked exhausted. “It’s serious.”
Paul led me back into the room where he’d operated on my son before transferring him onto a bed near the far wall. Adam may not have been needed during the surgery, but I bet he was asked to help move Joe after the bullet had been removed. Joe lay face down.
“How bad is it, Paul?”
“He was hit in the back with buckshot.”
“A shotgun?” I focused on Adam. “Who?”
“I have my suspicions, but I can’t be sure.”
“Michelson?”
Adam wouldn’t commit, but he had a story to tell. “Storm clouds gathered just as we were leaving Morrison’s camp. Hoss suggested we ride hard and hold up in town rather than trying to make it home.”
“I figured as much.”
“You know that wooded area just north of old man Woodson’s place?” I nodded. “All hell broke loose just over that last hill. Although I think Joe was the intended party, he wasn’t the first one hit.
Markus took the first shot.”
“And?”
“Not much more than a burn,” Paul said, and I sighed with relief. “He and the other young fella rode back to the ranch with Hoss.”
“Who else would want Joseph dead?” My question wasn’t answered for the simple reason that Michelson was the only person who carried a grudge. “May I see him now?”
“Just for a minute, Ben. He needs sleep more than anything else.”
Adam and Paul gave me the privacy needed. The narrow bed would’ve never held a man like Hoss, but Joe’s form left room for me to sit on the edge without unsettling him in the least. A white sheet covered the bandages surrounding his torso, and I was able to run my hand across his shoulder without disturbing the wound.
“I’m right here, Joseph.”
No movement or audible moan indicated he was in pain and it should’ve been a godsend, but all I could think was he’d done the job well, been paid for his efforts, and his final reward had been a load of buckshot. Life hadn’t been kind to my son. He’d suffered enough over the years and was just bouncing back with a skill that proved worthy. I prayed another setback wouldn’t damage his quest to be the best horse trader in the territory.
Paul and Adam entered the room. “I know you’d like to take him home, but I don’t want him moved for a couple of days.”
I nodded but I didn’t look up. Joe looked too fragile to go anywhere. I understood Paul’s thinking and agreed with the plan, but I’d stay with Joe. “Why don’t you head home, Adam.”
“Are you coming?”
“No.”
“Should I get you a room at the International?”
“No. I’m fine here.” I could sense the two of them trading glances, but I didn’t care. Joseph was my son, and I wasn’t leaving without him. “You go on now. I’ll be home when Joe’s ready to travel.”
I was still the boss, the head man, and Adam did as I asked without questioning me further. He’d check on Markus and run the ranch until I returned with Joe. I didn’t say they couldn’t visit, and I’d be surprised if they didn’t pop in to check on their brother. It was an unspoken understanding that family came before ranch business.
Joe woke later that night. He seemed to be fighting an unknown aggressor, and I tried to calm him before Paul’s stitches took the brunt of his furious efforts. “Easy, Son. Try to lie still.”
Paul stepped into the room and scooted me out of the way. With his stethoscope, he placed it in several places on Joe’s back and listened carefully to the erratic rhythm of my son’s breathing. He turned to the side table, mixed powder in a glass of water, and stirred. “Help me lift him, Ben.”
I eased in next to the doctor and rolled Joe to his side. I lifted his head and patted his cheek. “You need to drink, Son.”
We managed to get half a glass down him, and Paul appeared satisfied with the results. “He’ll sleep now, Ben.”
In his mind, he’d returned to the farm and was being disciplined for some type of infraction. During his fight to escape Johansson’s punishment, he fought against the restraints of the bedsheets and my attempt to keep him from harming himself any further.
For two long days, Joseph struggled with demons, and whatever else plagued his mind. Nightmares were frequent, and he’d thrash about until Paul administered another sleeping powder. By day three, his fever broke, and a conscious state surfaced enough that he realized where he was and what had happened to him.
He was confused at first, and he studied the unfamiliar walls and bedcoverings. He stared at Paul and me without recognition. I saw no other alternative, and I spoke in a gentle voice that finally brought him back to the present. I sighed with relief when his body relaxed, but tears filled his eyes.
My boy was emotionally drained. He fought through terrors that must’ve flashed before his eyes while he slept. I held his hand with both of mine. His fever had subsided, and I prayed he was on the mend.
“Pa’s right here, Joseph.”
“Pa?”
“Take it easy now. You’ve got a lot of stitches in you.”
“Shot.”
“I know you were, and you have to lie still.” The simple conversation tired him out and soon he was back asleep.
“He’ll sleep peacefully now, Ben, and I want you out of here. Take a nice hot bath in that room Adam reserved and get a decent night’s rest.”
I stood from my chair by the bed. “I’ll do just that, but if Joe should wake—”
“I’ll be here. Now, go.”
When I woke, daylight streamed through the hotel window. I’d slept ten hours straight and woke with a stiff back and an ill temper. I never meant to leave Joseph for that long. Shaving and dressing only took minutes, and I rushed down the stairs to find Hoss and Adam sitting in the lobby.
“I didn’t expect company.”
“We stopped by Doc’s first,” Adam said. “He told us you were here.”
Hoss stood and clapped my shoulder. “He also told us to feed you some breakfast.”
“I suppose I could eat something.”
“I suppose I could too.”
“Didn’t Hop Sing feed you this morning?”
“Dessert, Pa. Maybe some hot apple pie, right, Adam?”
“Right.” Adam had learned to play along when it came to Hoss’ appetite. We all had.
After finishing breakfast and dessert, we headed straight for Paul’s office where we found Joe sitting in the chair I’d occupied for the last three days. He wore a nightshirt Paul reserved for healing patients, and it hung off Joe’s shoulders like a bed sheet hanging in the wind to dry.
“Good morning, Son.”
“Hi, Pa.”
His face looked pale, and he’d lost weight. Every pound he’d put on over the last few months slipped away in less than a week. I couldn’t help but notice his lack of enthusiasm over being up and out of bed.
“How soon can we take him home, Paul?”
“Is today soon enough?”
“Seriously?”
“I’d prefer he ride in a buggy. I don’t want him riding on his own.” Paul looked down at Joe who showed no emotion at all. I thought he’d be chomping at the bit to get home, but he’d surrendered his mind and body to a melancholy state.
“No bronc busting until I give you the okay, Joe,” Paul stated.
“Adam. Hoss. Why don’t you two round up a buggy while I help Joseph get dressed.”
Hoss patted the top of Joe’s head. “Sure be good to get home, won’t it, Little Joe?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course, it will, Son. Sleep in your own bed. Hop Sing’s good cooking. You’ll be back to your old self in no time.” I turned to Paul. “Thank you.”
The look in Paul’s eyes reflected my own. He seemed worried too.
Hoss and his optimistic approach to life did nothing to bring Joe out of his sullen mood, and Paul tried to ease the tension with his unnecessary remark about broncs. Four days in a surgical room could have that effect on anyone and as soon as we got home, I hoped Joe’s frame of mind would change, and he’d be up and around in no time.
Chapter 6
“Joe’s wranglers want to know what to do,” Adam said. “Markus says his arm’s fine, and that he and Jimmy have been sitting around the bunkhouse for two weeks with nothing to do.”
“I’ll talk to Joe this morning.”
“He’s paying good money for those boys to sit and play cards and checkers all day. Maybe he hasn’t thought long term, but he better before his profits are eaten up by—”
“I know, Adam. I know all too well what will happen, but Joe doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything. He just sits. He won’t talk. He won’t eat or come downstairs.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“What do you want me to do? It’s his operation, his alone. That’s what he wanted, remember? Joe Cartwright Enterprises has nothing to do with ranch business.”
“Let me talk to him.”
I stared at my eldest son. I’d tried everything short of dragging Joe down the stairs, sitting him at the dining room table, and forcing him to take his meals with the rest of us. I’d gone back and forth between coddling and using my sternest voice to provoke a reaction and every attempt fell flat.
“Go! Talk to the boy. I certainly can’t get anywhere.”
Adam took the stairs two at a time and opened Joe’s bedroom door. “May I come in?”
I would’ve reprimanded my boys for eavesdropping, but it couldn’t be helped. If Adam got through to Joe, I had to know how he managed what I failed to do. I stood outside the bedroom door. Sitting next to the window, Joe didn’t bother to look up or answer his brother. The bandages had been removed and Paul Martin had given him the okay for light duty. Adam crossed the room and sat on the sill directly in Joe’s line of sight. “This is it? This is how you deal with setbacks?”
“Go away, Adam.” Joe didn’t look up; his voice soft and flat.
“That’s too easy, Joe. I’m not leaving until I understand what kind of man you really are.”
“Go away.”
“What would your buddy Andy say if he knew you were a quitter? That’s not the story he told Pa about your years on the farm. He said you bucked the system every chance you got, but that’s not the Joe I see sitting and staring out the window. I see only half a man.”
With narrowed eyes, Joe glared at his brother.
“I don’t see a Cartwright either. Cartwright men are fighters, but you don’t get that, do you? You don’t know how we operate because you don’t care to be part of the family. Joe Cartwright doesn’t share in the family business. Joe Cartwright stands alone.”
“You’re wrong, Adam.”
“Am I? Think about it, Joe. Think long and hard.”
I heard Adam’s footsteps and slipped inside my bedroom just before he stormed out of Joe’s room. He mentioned things I didn’t dare say, but everything he said was true. And then he added one more little detail.
“Don’t you even want to know who shot you?”
Adam finished his rant with a question that plagued all our minds. While I sat with Joe during his recovery at Paul Martin’s, Adam and Hoss informed Sheriff Coffee about the shooting and whom they suspected had ambushed them, but there’d been no proof. No one had seen the man with the shotgun. Roy said there wasn’t much he could do without witnesses although he’d keep his eyes and ears open for talk around town.
Adam’s plan worked when mine did not. Within a half-hour, Joe had shaved and dressed and, although his gait wasn’t smooth due to the injury, he managed the stairs and came to stand in front of my desk. I looked up.
“I’m sorry, Pa.”
“Sorry?” I rose from my chair. “For what, Son?”
“Adam set me straight on a few things.”
“Did he.”
“Yeah, and I owe you and him and Hoss an apology.”
“No need, Joe.”
“You should’ve told me. You should’ve said I was wrong.”
I hitched my leg over the corner of the desk and faced my son. “We were both wrong, Joe. When I asked if you wanted to run the horse operation, I should’ve explained more to you than I did. I took too many things for granted. I left out too many details about how we all pull together as a family.”
“But I shouldn’t have to be told.”
“The past is the past. The question now is what do you plan to do? You have two men collecting wages for doing nothing, and I believe they’re anxious to get back to work.”
“Yeah. I messed up big time, Pa.”
“Then it’s up to you to set things straight.”
A half-smile broke through. “I will.” Joe headed for the front door and turned to face me. “Thanks.”
If Joe wondered how I knew what his brother had said, he didn’t let on. I doubt I fooled anyone that day, but Joe was on the right track and that’s all that mattered.
Jimmy and Markus rode out the same day. They took bedrolls and grub just in case. Joe wasn’t fit to ride yet, but he was able to get the operation back on solid ground. I gave Adam credit for spurring his young brother out of his doom and gloom and setting him straight. He fathered that boy as much as I had over the years and this time, he came up with the right words to say.
Within the month, Joe was back in the saddle though breaking broncs would have to wait another couple of weeks. Doctor’s orders. A wire came not much later. Major Morrison had mentioned Joe’s name to Colonel Jenkins who, in turn, spread the word about Joe Cartwright Enterprises, which Joe assured us was in name only, and the wealth would be shared with all.
I balked at the idea. The project was Joe’s. He and his wranglers worked the horses and readied them for sale, but Joseph said no. Things would be different now. Profits would be shared like every other venture the family delved into.
My young son was growing up. Although he was goal-oriented, he realized that family came first. Johansson had tried to erase any memories of the Ponderosa from Joe’s mind, but bits and pieces were trickling back, and Joseph was settling in nicely.
Having my son back was a gift. Having him realize he could count on us when needed, and that chipping into the welfare of the Ponderosa wasn’t so bad, Joe’s demeanor changed, and he was able to settle in and become part of a family he thought of as strangers for so long. We were more than food in his belly and a place to sleep. We were with him all the way.
The End
2020
The next story in this series: – The Farm #5
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