The Dark Cloud

By Susan Grote

Ben Cartwright glowered at the empty chair at the table as he sipped his coffee. His two sons, Adam and Hoss, silently finished their breakfast, occasionally glancing furtively at the empty chair and at each other. Neither wanted to break the silence that would unleash the growing rage on their father’s face. Ben set down his coffee cup with a loud clatter. "What time did your younger brother get home last night?" he asked angrily.

Hoss looked at Adam and then back at his father. "I dunno, Pa," he answered. "I didn’t hear him come in."

Ben turned to his oldest son. "Adam, you were up late. Did you see Joe come in?"

Adam shook his head. "Joe wasn’t home when I went to bed," he replied. Seeing the look on his father’s face, Adam added hastily, "I’m sure he must have gotten back from Virginia City right after I turned in."

"That boy has no more sense than a two year old," Ben said in disgust. "What is he thinking, staying out all hours of the night when he knows we have branding to do."

"Pa, he probably just lost track of the time. You know how Joe is about things like that," Hoss commented in a conciliatory voice.

"Yes, I know how he is,” replied Ben, his voice getting louder. He raised his voice even more. "Well, if he thinks he is going to lie in bed like some gentleman farmer while we do all the work, he’s got another think coming!" Ben abruptly pushed himself away from the table and stood up. "I’ll get him out of bed….now," Ben added, almost shouting. He strode rapidly across the room and up the stairs.

"Whew,” remarked Hoss quietly after his father had left the room. "Pa sure is mad at Little Joe."

"I know," Adam agreed. "You’d think by now Joe would know better than to stay out late, drinking and gambling in Virginia City. Pa is going to blister his ears."

"His ears aren’t the only things that are going to get blisters if I know Pa," Hoss said with a grin.

Both men looked up as Ben tramped angrily down the stairs. He hadn’t been gone for more than a minute and it was awfully quiet during that time. Adam and Hoss glanced at each other. "Did you wake Joe?" inquired Adam in an innocent voice.

Ben stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Joe’s bed hasn’t been slept in. It appears your brother forgot to come home last night," answered Ben, his fury barely concealed. He walked across the room, toward the door, stopping to pick up his gunbelt and hat. "I’m going to Virginia City and drag that boy home," declared Ben as he buckled on his gunbelt. He turned, opened the door and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Adam and Hoss sat silently for a moment. "Do you reckon we ought to go with Pa?" asked Hoss.

"I’d guess we’d better," answered Adam with a sigh. "If we don’t, Pa will have Joe riding fence for the next year. And that will mean we have do the branding and all the other work without him."

Adam and Hoss stood and walked to the door, stopping to pick up their gunbelts and hats also. "You know, Adam, sometimes that little brother of ours can be more trouble than he’s worth," mumbled Hoss as the two men followed their father out the door.

A short time later, the three men were riding rapidly on the road to Virginia City. None bothered to look around or admire the scenery; they knew the road like the back of their hands. Ben was concentrating on getting to Virginia City as fast as possible, his anger growing with every mile. Adam and Hoss concentrated on keeping up with their father.

The trio arrived in Virginia City and halted their horses in front of the Silver Dollar saloon. Ben dismounted and casually threw his reins around the hitching post in front of the bar. Adam and Hoss did the same.

As Adam and Hoss lingered on the street behind him, Ben pushed opened the swinging doors of the saloon. He looked around in surprise. The Silver Dollar was almost empty. Only an old man cleaning the floor and the bartender were in the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Cartwright," the bartender said cheerily. "What can I get for you?"

"Nothing, Bruno," replied Ben with a distracted voice. "I’m looking for Little Joe. Have you seen him?"

"No since last night," the bartender answered. "You know, I never saw such a run of luck at the poker table. That boy of yours must have won every hand he played."

Adam poked his head over the door. "Joe won at poker?" he said in surprise.

The bartender laughed. "I know what you’re thinking Adam. Usually, Little Joe is the worst poker player in the place. But last night, he was really lucky. He started out with maybe $20 and ended up with over $1,000."

Adam whistled. "Over $1,000! Are you sure?" he asked.

"Well, I didn’t count it, and neither did he," admitted Bruno. "But I can usually guess how much is on the table. Joe had at least $1,000 when he left here."

"What time did he leave?" asked Ben, his anger cooling.

The bartender frowned. "It must have been about midnight," he said. He thought for a minute. "Yeah, I’m sure it was before midnight. Joe said something about having to get home because he had some branding to do today. Why? Didn’t he get home on time?"

"He didn’t get home at all," declared Ben. "Are you sure he left town?"

"I guess I just assumed he did,” Bruno admitted with a shake of his head. He had a beer at the bar, bought me one, too. Said he had to get home and walked out the door. I didn’t see him ride out. Like I said, I just assumed he was going on home."

Adam and Hoss pushed their way into the saloon. "Pa, you don’t think anything happened to Joe, do you?" asked Hoss with concern. "That’s a lot of money he was carrying."

Ben hesitated. "No," he said after a minute. "I’m sure he’s fine. He probably just changed his mind and decided to stay in town. Let’s go check over at the hotel."

With a nod of thanks, Ben turned and walked out of the bar, with Adam and Hoss trailing after him. The three stood on the street outside the saloon, unsure about what to do next. "Adam, you check the hotel…." Ben started to say when a shout interrupted him.

"Ben!" a voice called. "What are you doing in town so early in the day?"

Ben turned to see Sheriff Roy Coffee walking up the street toward him.

"Hello, Roy," answered Ben. "We’re looking for Little Joe. He didn’t come home last night."

"Didn’t come home?" said Roy with surprise. "How can that be? I saw him riding out of town about midnight."

"Are you sure?" asked Adam.

"Sure I’m sure," replied the sheriff. "I was making my rounds about midnight when I saw Joe come out of the Silver Dollar. I said hello and we talked for a minute. Then he got on his horse and rode out. I watched him ride down the road toward the Ponderosa."

Concern spread over Ben’s face. "Did you see anyone following him? Joe had a lot of money."

Roy Coffee shook his head. "No," he stated. "Some fellows came out of the saloon while we were talking, but they rode out ahead of Joe. I didn’t see anyone else."

"Maybe he doubled back and stayed at the hotel after all," suggested Hoss, not really believing it.

The sheriff shook his head again. "No, I just came from the hotel. I check the register every day, just in case. Joe wasn’t at the hotel last night."

Ben’s face was creased with worry. "We must have missed something on the road," he said, his voice filled with concern. "Let’s go back and check." Adam and Hoss nodded.

"I’ll check around town to see if anyone has seen him,” offered Roy Coffee as he watched the three men mount their horses. "I’ll send a message out to the Ponderosa if I find anything."

"Thanks," yelled Ben as he turned his horse and rode out of town, followed closely by his sons.

The trio rode slowly along the Virginia City road. As the best tracker of the three, Hoss rode in front, his eyes glued to the ground. Adam and Ben scanned the area around them as they rode. None of them saw anything unusual in the empty countryside.

The three men were about halfway to the Ponderosa when Hoss suddenly pulled his horse to a stop. They had come to a narrow portion of the road. On their right was a high hill, with large boulders scattered throughout. On their left was a wide expanse of land, covered with tall grass and bushes. A small strand of trees stood a few yards from the road. Hoss dismounted and bent to peer closely at the ground.

"Pa, look!" exclaimed Hoss. "See those dark smudges. That looks like dried blood." He stood and looked toward the scrub brush. "It looks like something was dragged off the road."

Ben and Adam quickly dismounted. "Start searching the brush," Ben ordered. The three Cartwrights waded into the tall grass. They walked only a few feet before Ben stopped and pointed. "Look!" he shouted. He could see the legs of a body, half-hidden in some scrub brush. The legs were wearing familiar tan pants. He could also see part of the green sleeve of a jacket sticking out of the brush.

The trio rushed to the body. Pushing the branches aside, Ben saw the unconscious form of his youngest son. Joe had a jagged wound on his forehead, a few inches above his left eye. Dried blood streaked the left side of his face and neck.

Putting his fingers lightly on Joe’s neck, Ben breathed a sigh of relief as he felt a steady pulse. He turned to Adam and Hoss. "He’s alive," declared Ben in a voice tinged with both relief and anxiety. He knelt and cradled Joe’s head in his arms, repeating his son’s name over and over as he lightly tapped Joe’s face. There was no response. Ben turned to his other sons and said, "Adam, get to town and bring the doctor out to the Ponderosa. Hoss, go to the ranch and get a wagon. Make sure you bring plenty of blankets and bedding." Adam and Hoss nodded, then rushed back to their horses.

Turning back to Joe, Ben stroked his son’s head gently. "It’s going to be all right, Joe," Ben murmured quietly. "Just hang on. We’ll get you home and you’ll be fine."

Joe made no response. He laid like a limp doll in his father’s arms.

**********

Bending over the bed, Doctor Martin listened to Joe’s heartbeat through the stethoscope. Joe was unconscious, his head wrapped with a wide, white bandage. His face had been cleaned and his clothes replaced by a nightshirt. The doctor listened for a few moments, then removed the instrument from Joe’s chest. He took the tubes from his ears and shook his head. The doctor stood and turned toward Ben, Adam and Hoss, who were standing at the end of the bed, their faces dark with worry.

"His heartbeat is nice and steady" announced the doctor, "but that’s bad head wound. He’s got a concussion, Ben, and possibly a hairline fracture of the skull. There’s no way to tell if there’s any…" Martin hesitated, then continued, "any other injuries until he wakes up."

"When will that be?" asked Ben, anxiously.

"There’s no way to tell about that, either," admitted Martin. "He’s in a coma. It could be hours, a day, a week, or…it could be never."

Ben’s eyes widen with fear. "Isn’t there something you can do?" he demanded.

"I’m sorry, Ben," replied the doctor. "I’ve done everything I can do. All that’s left is to wait and see what happens."

As Ben’s shoulders slumped in despair, Adam put his hand on his father’s arm. "Pa, Joe’s a tough kid," Adam said comfortingly. "He’ll come out of this." Adam turned toward the doctor. "There must be something we can do,” he added.

Doctor Martin shook his head. "Very little, I’m afraid," admitted the doctor. "I’ll show you how to keep him comfortable. But all we can do now is wait." Martin looked at Ben. "A little prayer wouldn’t hurt."

Ben raised his head and stared at the doctor. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Joe is going to be all right," he stated in a positive voice. "I know he’s going to be all right."

The doctor looked at Ben with a grim face. "Ben, I can’t guarantee anything."

A short time later, the doctor descended the stairs at the Ponderosa, followed by Adam and Hoss. At the bottom of the stairs, he turned. "If I know Ben, he won’t want to leave Joe. I’m counting on you two to make sure he gets some food and rest. It could be quite awhile before we know something. It won’t help Joe if Ben makes himself sick also."

"Don’t worry, doc," answered Hoss. "We’ll make sure Pa takes care of himself."

"See that you do," the doctor stated firmly. He placed his hat on his head and started toward the door, then stopped. He turned again to Adam and Hoss. "That wound of Joe’s could only have been caused by a bullet. Do you know what happened?"

"No," Adam replied with a shake of his head. "We went looking for him when he didn’t come home last night. We found him unconscious along the side of the road. He won a lot of money playing poker last night, but the money was gone when we found him. We figure someone bushwhacked him, robbed him and left him for dead."

The doctor nodded. "When I get back to town, I’ll tell Roy Coffee about this. I’m sure he’ll want to investigate. Send for me if there’s any change. Otherwise, I’ll stop back in the morning."

"Thanks, Doc," said Hoss. "We appreciate everything you’ve done." The doctor merely nodded and headed toward the door.

After watching the doctor leave, Adam and Hoss stood silently for a few minutes. Adam put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. "C’mon," he offered, "I’ll get Hop Sing to fix us something to eat."

"I ain’t hungry," replied Hoss, shrugging off his brother’s hand. The big man walked over to the large fireplace and stared into the flames. A frown of worry creased his face.

Adam knew how worried Hoss was about Joe; he felt the same gnaw of fear in his stomach. But he also knew that standing around wouldn’t help Joe and it would just make both of them feel worse. "Hoss, why don’t you and I ride back to where we found Joe?” he suggested. “Maybe we can find something to tell us what happened and who shot him."

Hoss looked with surprise at his brother, then glanced toward the top of the stairs. "What if…" he stopped and swallowed hard. "What if Pa needs us?" he continued.

"Nothing is going to happen while we’re gone, I promise you," Adam said with conviction. He only wished he believed it. "I’ll tell Pa where we’re going. You get the horses ready."

Hoss looked at his brother for several minutes, then nodded slowly. "All right,” he agreed reluctantly and walked toward the door.

Adam headed up the stairs and turned toward Joe’s room. He stopped outside the half-opened door. He could hear soft sound of a voice from inside. With an anxious shove, Adam pushed the door open.

Ben was sitting on a chair next to Joe’s bed. He was lightly stoking Joe’s arm, and talking to his son. Joe lay immobile on the bed, showing no response. Adam walked slowly into the room. "Pa," he said softly.

Ben looked up at Adam, but the glazed look in his eyes told his oldest son that Ben didn’t really see him.

"Pa," Adam repeated, "Hoss and I are going to ride out to where we found Joe, to see if we can find anything about what happened." Ben just nodded and turned back to Joe. Adam hesitated, as if he wanted to say something more. But he couldn’t think of anything to say.

**********

It was almost dusk when Adam and Hoss returned to the ranch. Hoss had the reins of a pinto horse in his hands, and the animal followed the riders docilely. The two men stabled the horses, then walked to the house. As they entered, Hop Sing was crossing the living room, carrying a tray with a coffee pot and cups. The Chinese cook stopped as Adam and Hoss strode into the room.

"Hop Sing, how’s Joe?" asked Adam as he and his brother removed their hats and guns.

"Little Joe still the same," answered the cook sadly. "Mr. Cartwright, he won’t eat, won’t leave Little Joe. Hop Sing think maybe he like some coffee."

Hoss took the tray from Hop Sing. "We’ll get him to eat and rest," Hoss promised. "Why don’t you go fix some stew or something."

"All right," answered Hop Sing. He hesitated for a moment and then added, "Mr. Hoss, Little Joe good boy. Whoever did this a bad man. "

"I know, Hop Sing," agreed Hoss. "Soon as Joe wakes up, we’ll find out who did this."

With a nod of agreement, Hop Sing turned and walked toward the kitchen.

Adam came to his brother’s side. "Hoss," he said softy, "we may never find out who shot Joe."

A look of pain flashed across Hoss’ face. "I know that, Adam," he admitted. "But if we do find out, that buzzard will wish he was never born."

Adam slapped his brother lightly on the back and the two men climbed the stairs.

Adam opened the door the Joe’s bedroom, and Hoss followed him in, still carrying the tray. Joe’s position in bed was unchanged. Ben was still sitting in the chair next to Joe’s bed but he was no longer stroking or talking to his son. Ben just stared at Joe, as if he was trying to wake him by sheer willpower.

"Pa, we’re back," announced Adam. Hoss walked across the room and placed the tray on the desk near the window. Ben looked at the men and merely nodded.

"How’s Joe? Any change?" asked Hoss hopefully.

"I think his color is a little better," answered Ben. "He seems more comfortable."

Adam and Hoss exchanged glances. To them, Joe looked exactly the same as when they had seen him a few hours ago. "Pa, why don’t you get some rest," suggested Adam. "Hoss and I will stay with Joe."

Ben shook his head. "No, I’m fine." He looked at his sons. "Did you find anything?" he asked in an almost disinterested voice.

"Not really," admitted Adam with a shake of his head. "We found Joe’s horse grazing in that strand of trees. We also found a couple of footprints by the side of the road. But they could belong to anybody, and they could have been there for quite awhile. Roy Coffee rode up as we were looking around. He searched the area but didn’t find anything. Roy is going to do some asking around in town, but I don’t think he’ll have much luck."

Ben nodded his head in acknowledgment and turned back to Joe.

"Pa, you haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. Hop Sing is fixing some food. You need to get something to eat," urged Hoss with concern.

"I’m fine," Ben stated once more, his voice firm.

Adam walked over to his father. "Pa, making yourself sick isn’t going to help Joe. You can’t take care of him if you don’t take care of yourself. Hoss or I will come get you if there’s any change. "

Ben sighed. "I guess you’re right, Adam," he agreed reluctantly. "It’s just so hard to leave him. I know he’s going to wake up soon, and I want to be here when he comes to."

"I know," said Adam. "And I promise we’ll come get you if he starts to wake up."

Nodding, Ben turned back to Joe and stroked his son’s arm. "Joe, I’m going to leave for a bit, but I’ll be back soon," he told his unconscious son. "Adam or Hoss will be here if you need anything,"

Adam and Hoss exchanged glances again; Adam shook his head in warning to his brother.

Ben stood and stretched his tired muscles. He walked slowly toward the door of the room, then halted. He turned back toward Joe and looked again at the figure lying in the bed. "I’ll be back soon, Joe" he repeated, then left the room.

"Adam, Joe can’t hear us, can he?" asked Hoss after Ben had left.

"No, I don’t think so," replied Adam. He looked at his sleeping brother. "I guess it just makes Pa feel better to talk to him."

"I’m worried about Pa," said Hoss. "He’s acting kind of strange."

"This is hard on him, Hoss," Adam explained. "You know how protective he is about Joe. After all that’s Pa has been through -- losing three wives -- I don’t know what he’ll do if Joe doesn’t wake up soon."

Hoss nodded. "I know how he feels, Adam. I don’t know as if I could stand it, either."

"We’ll get through this," Adam stated grimly. "Why don’t you pour me a cup of coffee? I’ll stay with Joe for awhile. You go down and make sure that Pa eats something and gets some sleep. You can relieve me in a couple of hours."

**********

Adam sat with his brother for almost three hours, watching in vain for any signs of movement. He wished he could do something to help Joe, but knew there was nothing he could do. All he could do is sit and wait. Adam felt the frustration building in him. He found himself clutching his hands into fists as he sat and waited.

When Hoss relieved him, he was assured by his brother that Ben had eaten a little bit of Hop Sing’s stew and was taking a nap. Adam nodded and left the room to do the same.

After settling into the chair next to Joe’s bed, Hoss looked at his younger brother with concern. Joe was pale, but seemed to be sleeping peacefully. A lock of dark hair had fallen over the bandage around Joe’s forehead. Hoss reached over and gently brushed the hair back. "Doggone it, Joe," Hoss muttered, "how did you get yourself into this mess?" Hoss shook his head. "Joe," he said a little louder, "Stop being so stubborn. You can wake up; I know you can. Just open your eyes." Hoss looked over his shoulder guiltily, thankful no one was in the room to hear him. I’m as bad as Pa, he thought. He turned back to the bed where Joe laid unmoving. Hoss sighed and sat back in the chair. He knew it would probably be a long night.

Joe laid in a coma through the night and into the next day. Ben, Adam, and Hoss fell into a routine of each staying with Joe for about three hours before being relieved. Each man shifted the unconscious man’s position on the bed and forced some liquids into him, hoping to make Joe more comfortable. Each also hoped their actions would bring some kind of response. They were all disappointed.

As the sun began to rise, Ben was sitting with Joe. Almost two days had passed since he found his youngest son along the side of the road. His face looked tired and worn. An open bible lay in his lap. Ben read a few lines in silent prayer, then glanced at Joe. Joe slept peacefully, unaware of the worry and concern he was causing. Ben sighed and lowered his eyes to read some more. He heard the door opening behind him and looked up.

Hoss and Adam entered the room, followed by the doctor. Their faces also showed the strain of the past few days. Both looked pale and drawn.

"Pa, the doc’s here," said Hoss quietly as Doctor Martin walked in.

"Hello, Ben," the doctor greeted his old friend. "Any change?"

"No," answered Ben, "he’s still the same."

Nodding, Martin walked to Joe’s bed. He checked the wound under the bandage and re-wrapped the cloth. He also checked Joe’s pulse and breathing before turning to Ben. "The wound is healing fine, and his heart and lungs are normal," the doctor said encouragingly.

"Then why won’t he wake up?" asked Ben with despair.

"I don’t know, Ben,” admitted Martin. “The injury probably caused a bruise and some swelling in the brain. He may not wake up until the swelling goes down. There’s just no way to tell how long that might take."

"There must be something we can do," insisted Adam.

The doctor shook his head. "I’m sorry, Adam," he said sadly. "This isn’t like a broken bone. There’s no medicine or surgery that will heal it. The only cure is time." He looked around the room at the discouraged men, trying to think of some words of comfort. But nothing came to him. Finally, the doctor picked up his bag. "I’m heading over to the Swanson place. Mrs. Swanson is expecting another baby. Then I’ll be going back to town. Come get me if there’s any change."

Ben watched the doctor leave the room and then sighed. "It’s my fault," he declared. "I should have known he was in trouble. I should have gone looking for him sooner. Maybe if we had found him before we did…"

"Pa, that’s crazy," interjected Adam. "You couldn’t have known what had happened."

"Adam’s right," added Hoss. "There’s no way you could have known he was in trouble. You ain’t got nothing to feel guilty about."

 "I just feel so helpless," Ben said. He looked at Joe with a grim expression.

Suddenly, Joe’s hand moved. Ben stared, not sure if he really saw the movement. Then it happened again. Joe’s left hand pushed the covers a few inches, then moved back to his side.

"Adam, Hoss, he moved his hand," shouted Ben. The other two men hurried to the bed. "Joe, can you hear me?" asked Ben, stroking his youngest son’s head. "Come on, son, open your eyes. You can do it. Open your eyes and wake up."

********

Joe wasn’t sure where he was. He felt like he was swimming in some dark, murky, water. His head throbbed, and his body felt weak. He could hear voices, but the words made no sense to him. He wanted to sleep but somehow knew he shouldn’t. He moved his hand, trying to push away the dark cloud that seemed to surround him. He heard a voice again, and suddenly the words began to make sense to him. "Come on, son, open your eyes" he heard. Joe wanted to obey. But his head hurt so much and his eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. He heard the voice yet again and felt the touch of a hand on his head. Joe struggled and opened his eyes a bit. The light sent a stab of pain through his head and he quickly shut his eyes. "That’s it," he heard the voice say in an encouraging tone. "You can do it. Open your eyes."

Joe tried again. He lifted his eyelids a little. The light still hurt his eyes but wasn’t quite as painful. He took a deep breath and the pain seemed to lessen. He pushed his eyes open.

At first, everything was a blur. He blinked his eyes several times and the images began to come into focus. He saw three men standing by his bed, with anxious looks on their faces.

"What happened?" Joe asked in a weak voice. He swallowed; his throat was dry and his mouth felt like it was filled was sand. He winced in pain as his head throbbed.

"Do you want some water?" a voice offered.

Joe nodded and winced again. Even that small movement sent waves of pain through his skull. He felt a glass at his lips and a hand gently lifting his head. The movement hurt, but his thirst was overwhelming. He drank from the glass greedily, and gratefully felt the liquid cooling his dry mouth and throat. He continued drinking until the glass was almost empty, and then pushed his head back onto the pillow. The supporting hand and glass were removed.

 "What happened?" Joe repeated, his voice stronger.

"Don’t you remember?" a voice at the end of the bed said.

"No," replied Joe softly. He tried to keep still. Moving his head made it hurt worse.

"We found you along side the road. A bullet grazed your head. You’ve been unconscious for more than two days," explained the voice nearest to him.

Joe said nothing. For some reason, he really didn’t care what had happened. All he knew was that his head hurt. His eyes searched the room. "Where am I?" he asked.

"You’re in your room at the Ponderosa," replied the voice nearest to him.

"The Ponderosa? What’s that?" asked Joe curiously.

The three men standing around the bed looked at each other and then back at Joe, surprise and worry on all their faces.

"Who are you?" Joe asked, his curiosity growing.

"Don’t you recognize us?" said the man at the end of the bed.

Joe shook his head, wincing the wave of pain the movement caused.

The man closest to the bed placed his head gently on Joe’s head. "Son, can you tell us your name?" he urged.

Joe thought that was a strange question at first. He started to answer, then stopped. His mind was blank. He tried to think, frowning in concentration. The pain in his head got worse. Suddenly, he was filled with panic and fear.

"I don’t know," Joe replied in a frightened voice. "I can’t remember." He looked around the room, his fear growing. "I can’t remember my name."

Ben’s stomach clutched in fear as he saw the pain and confusion on Joe’s face. "Son, think," he said gently. "Surely you know your name and who we are."

Joe’s eyes widen. He stared at the man next to the bed and then looked wildly around the room. He started breathing fast as his terror increased. Nothing looked familiar to him. The men in the room were strangers. He tried to think but nothing came to him. "I don’t know," he cried in fear. "I can’t remember anything. What’s wrong with me?"

Ben turned toward the end of the bed where Adam and Hoss were watching. Both faces were creased with worry. "Hoss," he ordered, “Go get the doctor quick." Hoss nodded and left the room.

Ben turned back to the bed. Joe was struggling to sit up but Ben put a restraining hand on his son’s shoulder. "Take it easy, Joe," advised Ben as he gently pushed his son back on the bed. "Hoss has gone for the doctor."

"Hoss?" Joe asked in confusion. He blinked his eyes as if he were trying to clear his mind. "Who is he? Who are you?"

"I’m your father," answered Ben in a soothing voice, trying not to let the panic he felt reach his voice. "Your name is Joe Cartwright." Ben gestured toward the end of the bed. "This is your brother Adam. The man who left the room is your brother Hoss." Ben looked hard into Joe’s face. "Doesn’t any of this seem familiar to you?"

"No," Joe replied, his voice fading. Suddenly, he felt tired, felt an overwhelming desire to sleep. He started to close his eyes but opened them abruptly when a hand roughly shook him.

"Joe, you have to stay awake," Ben said, shaking his son. "You can’t go back to sleep."

Ben spent the next thirty minutes or so talking to Joe and keeping him awake. Adam talked to him also, repeating his name and telling Joe who he was. Both knew letting Joe fall asleep was dangerous; he could slip back into the coma.

For his part, Joe stayed silent. His head ached but that bothered him less than the fear he felt. He tried to remember something, anything, but his mind remained blank. He watched the men in the room, but faces meant nothing to him. He listened to what they said, but the names they repeated weren’t familiar. His mind was in a whirl. What was happening to him, he thought. Could he believe what was being said? But why would they lie to him? Why couldn’t he remember his name? Questions spun through his head but no answers came to him.

As he heard the door open, Joe looked up. A white-haired man entered the room followed by the big man who had left earlier. The white-hair man approached the bed.

"Hello, Joe," said Dr. Martin with a smile. "Welcome back." He turned to Ben. "Hoss told me," he added quietly.

Joe nodded tentatively as the white-haired man sat on the edge of the bed. Here was yet another face he didn’t recognize.

"Do you know who I am?" asked the doctor. Joe shook his head. "I’m Doctor Martin," continued the doctor. "I need to examine you. Is that all right?"

Joe nodded, his eyes never leaving the doctor’s face.

Doctor Martin checked Joe’s eyes. He held a finger in front of Joe’s face and asked Joe to watch it as he moved the finger back and forth. He told Joe to move his arms and legs, and smiled in satisfaction as Joe did what he was told. Finally, the doctor reached over to the table and picked up the bible that Ben had placed there. He handed the book to Joe and asked him to read from it. Joe frowned but opened the book. He read the first few lines of the book easily. The doctor smiled again as he took the book back.

Joe decided he couldn’t stand this any longer. "What’s wrong with me?" he asked. "Why can’t I remember anything?"

"Joe, you have a form of amnesia," explained the doctor. "It’s not unheard of with a severe injury to the head. That prevents you from remembering names, faces, and probably past events."

Joe swallowed hard. "How long will this last?"

Doctor Martin hesitated. He looked around the room at Ben, Hoss and Adam who were watching him anxiously. "That’s hard to say. It could last only a few days. On the other hand, it could take some time for your memory to return."

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Ben.

The doctor shook his head. "I know I keep saying this, Ben, but there’s nothing to do but wait. Joe needs to get plenty of rest. He’ll probably have some bad headaches for awhile, and maybe some dizziness. I’ll give you some powders which should help the headaches." He turned back to Joe and smiled reassuringly. "I know this frightening, Joe, but you’ll get better."

Joe nodded slowly. He knew he ought to believe what the doctor told him, but he couldn’t. All he knew was that he was in a strange place, surrounded by people he didn’t know.

The doctor mixed some powders in a glass of water and gave it to Joe to drink. Joe looked at the glass suspiciously.

"It’s all right," the doctor reassured him. "It’s just some medicine to help your headache."

Joe glanced at the doctor and then back at the glass. He took a deep breath, then swallowed the mixture.

Taking the glass back, Doctor Martin set it on the table by the bed. "Now, Joe, I want you to stay awake for awhile. Do you think you can do that?" said the doctor. "I need to talk to your Pa and brothers for a minute." Joe nodded slowly.

The doctor gestured to Ben, Adam and Hoss, and the four men left the bedroom. As the men left, Joe watched with a feeling of relief. Somehow, he felt better now that he was alone. He was tired but he didn’t try to sleep. Joe took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling.

Out in the hallway, Doctor Martin closed the bedroom door behind him. "Let’s talk downstairs," he suggested to the Cartwrights.

The four men went down the stairs to the large living room. Doctor Martin stood in front of the fireplace as the other three watched him anxiously. Finally, Ben couldn’t stand the silence any longer. "Doc," he said with a touch of despair in his voice, "what is it? What can we do?"

"I’ll tell you what you shouldn’t do," replied the doctor. "You can’t overwhelm Joe with information. He’s a very frightened and confused young man right now. You start telling him a lot of things and you’ll liable to make his condition worse."

"Frightened?" said Hoss. "What’s he scared of?"

"Of what’s happening to him, of being in a strange place, of you," answered the doctor forcefully.

"Of me?" exclaimed Hoss. "I’m his brother. I wouldn’t hurt him."

"You know that and I know that," said the doctor. "But Joe doesn’t know that." He saw the frown on Hoss’ face. "I know this is hard, but you’re going to have to be very patient with Joe for awhile."

"But what can we do?" asked Ben again.

"Let him ask the questions," replied the doctor. "Don’t try to tell him everything at once. He may remember things gradually or it may come back to him all at once. But until he does start to remember, you have to be careful with him."

"All right, you’re the doctor" agreed Ben with a sigh. "What else?"

"Keep him awake for the next few hours, then let him sleep,” instructed Martin. “He’ll need to stay in bed for a week or so. Make sure he gets lots of Hop Sing’s good cooking. And let him decide what he wants to know."

********

The tall man in the clothes of a wrangler lounged by the door of the saloon. He idly watched the people who walked by on the street. A man in a dark suit and vest strolled by and stopped by the cowboy. "Got a light?" asked the man in the suit. The wrangler nodded and lit a match. The man in the suit cupped his hands around the flame as he lit a cigar. "I heard Cartwright is still alive," murmured the man as he puffed on his cigar.

The cowboy froze. "What?" he said in surprise. The match burned down and singed his fingers. The wrangler quickly shook out the match.

"I said Cartwright is still alive. He’s hurt bad, but he’s still breathing," repeated the man in the suit.

The tall man shook his head. "I thought sure he was a goner when I dragged him off the road," he declared, his voice full of worry. "What do we do now? He saw both of us when I jumped him. That’s why I had to shoot him."

"Don’t panic," advised the other man heatedly. "We don’t know the kid is going to make it. Let’s just wait awhile."

As the men talked, they didn’t notice Sheriff Coffee walked up.

"Excuse me," Coffee said to the man in the suit. Both the man and the wrangler stiffened.

The man in the suit suddenly relaxed and turned to the sheriff with a smile. "You startled me," he explained in a friendly voice. "What can I do for you?"

"You were in that poker game with Little Joe Cartwright the other night, weren’t you?" asked Coffee.

"I sure was," answered the man. "Luckiest run of cards I’ve seen in a long time. Why? Is there something wrong?"

"Yes," replied the sheriff. "Somebody bushwhacked Joe Cartwright after that poker game and stole his money. I’m trying to find out who did it."

"Bushwhacked him!" the main exclaimed in surprise. "How terrible."

"Did you see anything suspicious that night? Anything out of the ordinary?" asked the sheriff.

The man shook his head. "No," he replied with regret. "I’m sorry. I didn’t see a thing. After Joe left, the game broke up. I saw him talking with you when I left the saloon."

"Where did you go after the game?" asked Coffee.

"Just for a short ride," explained the man. "I rode for awhile to clear my head, then came back to the hotel."

"You lost a lot of money in that game, didn’t you?" Coffee said with suspicion.

The man shrugged. "Some," he admitted. "But I had more money. I wasn’t wiped out."

Roy Coffee turned to the wrangler. "What about you?" he asked.

"Me?" replied the cowboy in surprise. "I wasn’t in that game. I was just having a drink in the saloon. I watched for awhile and then left."

"You two know each other?" asked Coffee, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"We’ve had a drink together," answered the man in the suit quickly. "I wouldn’t say we were friends or anything. Just acquaintances."

As Coffee was talking with the two men, the doctor drove up in his buggy.

"Roy!" shouted Doctor Martin.

Coffee turned to the doctor. "Doc, how’s Joe doing?" he asked with concern.

"He’s awake," replied the doctor, still sitting in his buggy. The wrangler and the other man looked at each other with a worried expression.

"That’s good news," said the sheriff. "When can I go talk with him?"

"Don’t waste your time, Roy," advised Martin. "He can’t remember what happened."

"Well, maybe he will if I ask him a few questions," declared Coffee stubbornly.

"Roy, the boy’s got amnesia. He can’t even remember his own name, much less how he got hurt," explained the doctor.

"What!" exclaimed Coffee. "How long will it last?"

"No way of telling," Martin advised. "It could be quite awhile before he can remember anything. I’d lay odds that he’ll never remember the shooting."

The two men behind Coffee visibly relaxed as they listened to the doctor.

The man in the suit walked up to the sheriff. "I’m real sorry to hear about the Cartwright boy," he declared with false sincerity. "You let me know if there’s anything I can do." He tipped his hat and walked away. The tall cowboy walked off in the opposite direction.

The doctor watched the man in the suit walk away. "Who was that?" he asked the sheriff.

"Just one of the men in the poker game that night," replied Coffee. "He didn’t know anything about what happened."

"That’s too bad," said Martin. "Well, I’ve got patients to see. I’ll let you know if Joe’s condition changes." The doctor snapped the reins and the buggy moved off.

************

Joe spent the next week in bed. His headache gradually eased but his memory didn’t return. Each time he woke, Joe looked around the room, hopeful that the memories would come flooding back. But nothing happened. He knew he recognized the room only from being in it for the past few days. He knew he recognized the man who said he was his father only because the man was almost always with him. He answered to "Joe" because they told him that was his name. He didn’t know if that was right, but no other name seemed familiar to him.

The man called Hoss and the one called Adam visited him frequently. A Chinese man called Hop Sing brought him food. When he shaved, he stared at the face in the mirror, but he didn’t recognize it. He spent hours thinking, trying in vain to remember something. Most of the time, he simply felt overwhelmed with helplessness and despair.

The doctor checked on Joe each day. After a week, he removed the bandage around Joe’s head, and declared Joe fit enough to get out of bed for awhile each day. Joe sat in the chair by the window and stared blankly at the yard below.

Ben watched his youngest son with a feeling of helplessness also. Joe asked him no questions, and answered politely when Ben talked to him. But there was no warmth in their conversations.

Joe had been out of bed for four days when Ben came to his room. He knocked softly on the door and walked in. Joe was sitting by the window as usual, wearing a red robe over his nightshirt. He was staring at scene below him.

"Joe, are you all right?" asked Ben. Joe nodded but didn’t look at him. "Can I get you anything?" Ben persisted. Joe shook his head. Ben watched his son for a few moments, then turned to leave. He stopped when he heard Joe’s voice.

"How long have I lived on the Ponderosa?" asked Joe quietly.

"Your whole life," replied Ben. "You were born here."

"Is it a big ranch?" Joe asked.

"It’s the biggest ranch in Nevada," explained Ben.

Joe nodded. "Is there a town nearby?" he asked.

"Yes, Virginia City," answered Ben. He was encouraged by Joe’s questions. "It’s about an hour’s ride from here."

"I must have been to Virginia City a lot," said Joe, still staring out the window.

"Thousands of times," agreed Ben with a smile.

"And I must have ridden around this ranch a lot," continued Joe.

"You’ve been over every square inch of it at one time or another," said Ben. Ben frowned. He wasn’t sure what Joe was getting at.

"I’ve been to Virginia City thousands of times, and I’ve been over every square inch of this ranch," Joe repeated. He shook his head. "And now, I couldn’t find my way to the barn," he stated, his voice filled with bitterness and despair. Joe put his fingers to the bridge of his nose and winced.

Walking over to his son, Ben put a comforting hand on Joe’s shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes, I’m fine," answered Joe. "I’ve just got a headache."

"You should rest. Let me help you back to bed," offered Ben. When Joe nodded his agreement, Ben grabbed Joe’s arm and helped him stand. He led his son over to the bed and watched as Joe sat down on the edge. Joe slipped off his robe and climbed under the covers, turning his back to Ben.

"Do you want any powders for the headache?" asked Ben with concern.

"No," came a muffled reply from the bed. "I just want to be alone."

Standing by the bed, Ben wanted desperately to help Joe. Joe’s coldness toward him hurt, even though Ben knew he didn’t mean it. Finally, Ben sighed and walked out of the room.

As Ben was walking down the stairs, Adam and Hoss came in the front door. "Quiet," Ben advised, "Joe’s trying to sleep."

Adam nodded. "How is he feeling?"

"About the same," answered Ben, trying not to let the worry he felt creep into his voice. "He asked a few questions."

"That’s a good sign," suggested Hoss heartily.

"Maybe," replied Ben doubtfully. "I don’t think the answers he got helped him any. I wish there was something we could do for him. He seems so lost."

"Pa, you know what the doctor said," Adam told his father. "We just have to be patient with him. Joe will come around."

"I hope so," Ben said. "I really hope so."

********

Joe’s physical condition continued to improve. He could now spend most of the day out of bed and only rarely got a headache. He also lost his fear of the people around him. Joe decided if they were going to harm him, they would have done it by now. Instead of danger, all he felt was kindness and concern from the men who were caring for him. Joe wished he offer the same feelings back to them. But no matter how hard he tried, Joe couldn’t summon any feelings except gratitude toward these strangers. He had no memory of them as family, no deep-seated feelings of affection. They were simply some people whom he had met about two weeks ago and who had been kind to him.

Joe was sitting by the window when the doctor came to visit him once again. He greeted the man politely and endured the doctor’s examination with stoic silence. He noted that Ben stood in the doorway watching. Joe thought of him as Ben, not as his father. He didn’t remember having a father.

"You’re doing fine," the doctor announced as he finished his examination. "I think you can get dressed and go downstairs tomorrow."

Joe felt a rush of panic. "Downstairs?" he said in a shaky voice. "I don’t know….I mean, do you think I should?"

"Joe, you can’t stay in this room forever," the doctor advised in kindly voice. "Besides, you never know what might trigger your memory. I think it’s time you started trying to get back into your old routine."

"I don’t know what I did before," Joe declared, his voice betraying his panic.

"Don’t worry, Joe," Ben said from the doorway. "We’ll help you. It will be all right. If you don’t remember something, all you have to do is ask."

As Joe watched the doctor and Ben leave the room, a feeling of dread descended on him. Tomorrow he would have to leave this room. Tomorrow he would have to try to remember a whole lot of things. He didn’t know if he could do it.

************

“I don’t understand Joe’s reaction to coming downstairs," Ben said with concern as he walked descended the stairs with the doctor. "He seemed frightened by the idea."

"It’s to be expected, Ben," answered Martin. "He feels safe in that room. It’s the only place he knows. Now he is going to have to face a lot of things he doesn’t remember. He knows he should remember them, but he can’t. It’s going to be hard for him."

"What should we do?" asked Ben.

"Just keep doing what you are doing. Be patient. Don’t push him. Let him try to remember. Like I said, you never know what’s going to trigger his memory," advised the doctor.

The sun was up by the time Joe woke the next morning. He lay in bed for awhile, delaying what he knew he should be doing. Finally, he sighed. There was no putting off the inevitable. The doctor was right; he couldn’t stay in this room forever.

Climbing out of bed, Joe walked slowly to the dresser against the wall. He pulled open drawers and took some clothes out. Reluctantly, he began to dress, taking as much time as he could. He washed and shaved carefully, dragging out the process. At last, he could think of no more reasons to delay leaving the room. Joe took a deep breath and opened the door.

Joe walked into a paneled corridor. He could see the doors for a number of rooms along the corridor. To his left was the top of a staircase. Joe walked toward the stairs.

Slowly descending the stairs, Joe’s eyes darting around the rooms he could see below him. Actually, there was one big room, divided into three sections. He could see an area with a desk and bookcase, and a living room area with a large fireplace. Just beyond the living room was a dining room. Joe stopped at the landing and looked around. He had no memory of having seen these rooms before.

As Joe descended the rest of the stairs and walked to the table, he saw Ben, Adam and Hoss watching him. A plate was set before an empty chair on the left side of the table. Joe hesitated, then walked to the empty seat and sat down.

"Good morning, Joseph," Ben said heartily.

"Good morning," answered Joe in a quiet voice. He nodded at Hoss and Adam. Joe’s eyes quickly scanned the room, then lowered to look at the table.

An awkward silence filled the room. Joe stared at his plate. Ben watched him and tried to think of the right thing to say. Hoss and Adam looked at each other. Finally, Adam cleared his throat.

"Joe, would you like some coffee?" asked Adam.

Joe looked up and nodded. Adam reached for the coffeepot as Joe passed his cup to his older brother. Adam filled the cup and handed it back. Joe sipped his coffee as the silence grew.

"Well, um, we didn’t know when you were coming down so we started breakfast without you," explained Ben with a false cheeriness. "Let me get Hop Sing to make you something hot." Ben leaned back in his chair and called to the kitchen. "Hop Sing!"

Hop Sing walked into the dining room with a frown on his face. "What you want now?" asked the cook grumpily. The frown turned into a smile when he saw Joe sitting at the table. "Ah, good morning, Little Joe," the cook greeted the youngest Cartwright

"Hop Sing, would you make Joe some breakfast, please," ordered Ben. "We didn’t save anything for him."

"Yes sir, Mr. Cartwright," replied Hop Sing eagerly. He turned to Joe. "I make you eggs, bacon, everything you like." He walked back to the kitchen rapidly.

The awkward silence lengthened at the table as the four men each sipped their coffee. No one seemed to know what to say. At last, Adam wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up.

"We’d better get started," Adam announced. "We’ve got a lot of work to do today."

“Yeah,” agreed Hoss as he got to his feet also. The big man looked at Joe. "We’re going down to the south pasture to look at a new string of horses. Why don’t you come down and join us after you eat?"

Joe frowned, then looked at Hoss with an expression of misery. "I…I don’t know where the south pasture is," Joe admitted.

A pained expression crossed Hoss’ face. He didn’t know what to say.

"Why don’t you finish your breakfast and just relax for awhile," Ben suggested quickly. "You don’t want to overdo it on your first day. We’ll be back in a little bit and you can join us then if you feel up to it. Does that sound all right?"

"I guess so," agreed Joe in a quiet voice.

Nodding encouragingly at Joe, Ben pushed back his chair and stood. Hoss and Adam were already at the front door and he walked toward them. Ben stopped and glanced back at his youngest son. Joe was just sitting at the table, idly turning his coffee cup on the saucer. Ben shook his head in concern. He simply didn’t know what to do.

"Pa, let him be," Adam suggested quietly. "He’ll be all right."

Ben took a deep breath and nodded. "Let’s get going," he said. The three men walked out the door.

Joe ate his breakfast slowly, not really hungry but not sure what else to do. He had been at the table for quite a while when Hop Sing began clearing the dishes. "You like?" he asked Joe eagerly. Joe nodded and continued to eat.

When there was nothing left on his plate, he stood and looked around. The room was still unfamiliar to him. Joe walked to the window and looked out. Hop Sing came in to the clear the last of the dishes from the table. He looked at Joe staring out the window and shook his head in sympathy. With a shrug, the cook picked up the last of the dishes and went back into the kitchen.

Staring at the unfamiliar landscape before him, Joe hoped something would trigger a memory. With a sigh, he turned back and scanned the dining room again. So far, everything he saw was new to him.

Walking into the living room, Joe searched the room with his eyes. Crossing over to the gun rack next to the fireplace, he slowly ran his hand over the barrel of one of the rifles. The cold steel felt both familiar and alien. Joe turned from the gun rack and walked to the table behind the sofa. A black statue of a rearing horse sat on the table. Joe examined the statue carefully. He didn’t recognize it.

Joe spent the next half hour or so exploring the room and its contents. He picked up objects and looked at the pictures on the wall. With each action, he hoped he would feel the stirring of some memory, but he was continually disappointed.

Discouraged, Joe moved over to the part of the room with the desk and bookcase. He stood in front of the bookcase, reading the titles of the volumes. He was sure he must have read some of these books, but he had no idea what the books were about. He stared for a long time at the map of the Ponderosa hanging on the wall behind the desk. It meant nothing to him. He could have been staring at the map of some foreign country.

Turning to the desk, Joe saw a picture in a gold frame on the edge. He picked it up. A young woman with light colored hair smiled at him from the picture. He felt he should know the woman, but he didn’t.

Joe was still holding the picture when Ben, Adam, and Hoss came in the front door. "Joe?" Ben called as he removed his hat and looked around. He saw his son standing by the desk. "Joe?" he said again.

Joe looked up with a guilty expression on his face. "I’m sorry. I was just looking around."

"It’s all right," Ben replied gently. He hesitated. "Did anything look familiar?" he asked hopefully.

Joe shook his head. He showed the picture to Ben. "Who’s this?" he asked.

A tender smile crossed Ben’s face. "That’s your mother. The picture was taken in New Orleans, right after I met her," he explained.

"My mother," he repeated as he looked at the pictured again. He pursed his lips and turned to Ben. His eyes glistened. "I don’t remember her," he admitted in a quivering voice.

Ben put his hand on Joe’s shoulder. "Joe, your mother died right after you were born. You never knew her."

"Did I…do I talk about her very often?" Joe asked.

"No, not really," answered Ben. "You grew up without her. I told you as much as I could about her. I can tell you again, if you want."

Swallowing hard, Joe nodded. He placed the picture back on the desk. "Maybe later," he mumbled. Joe winced and rubbed his temple.

"Are you all right?" asked Ben with concern.

"Yeah," said Joe. "I just have a little headache. I think maybe I’ll lay down for awhile." He glanced at the stairs, an uncertain expression on his face.

"I’ll help you upstairs," Ben offered, quickly understanding Joe was not sure he could find his way back to his room.

Joe looked at Ben gratefully. "Thank you.”

From the living room, Adam and Hoss had watched the exchange between Ben and Joe. They watched now as Ben put his hand on Joe’s elbow and guided him up the stairs.

"It’s like living with a stranger in the house," observed Hoss as he watched the pair disappear at the top of the stairs.

"I know," replied Adam. "It’s particularly hard on Pa."

"How come?" asked Hoss.

"Haven’t you noticed?" replied Adam. "Joe doesn’t call him Pa. In fact, Joe doesn’t call him anything. Joe treats him like someone he just met. I know how that must bother Pa."

"Yeah, you’re right," Hoss agreed with a hint of surprise. "I guess I didn’t realize it. Pa is trying so hard to get through to Joe. I wish there was something we could do to help."

"Maybe there is," said Adam.

"What?" asked Hoss.

"I don’t know yet," Adam answered. "I need to think on it for awhile."

Ben came down the stairs slowly. "He’s all right," he said in response to the question on Adam and Hoss’ face. "I think he’s just a little overwhelmed by everything."

"Pa," declared Adam, "I think we should try and find Joe something to do. Sitting around all day, brooding about this, can’t be healthy for him."

"I don’t know," Ben replied doubtfully. "I don’t want to push him too hard."

"Look, Hoss is going to fix the fence on the corral by the barn. Let Joe help him," Adam suggested. "It’s not going to hurt Joe if he bangs a few nails."

"That’s right, Pa," Hoss added. "I’ll make sure he doesn’t do too much."

Ben looked at Adam and Hoss thoughtfully, then shrugged. "Maybe you’re right. It can’t hurt and it might help."

About an hour passed before Joe reluctantly came down the stairs again. Ben was sitting at his desk, working on some papers. He looked up and smiled as Joe reached the bottom of the stairs. "How are you feeling?" Ben asked.

"I’m all right," answered Joe. "I was just a little tired." He looked around the empty room. "Where’s…Adam and Hoss?" he asked hesitantly.

"Adam went down to finish checking on those horses. Hoss is working on the fence outside. If you feel up to it, he could use a little help," Ben said. He watched Joe’s face carefully.

"Me?" replied Joe in surprise.

"Well, the doctor said you could do some light work. Hoss could really use the help," Ben advised.

Joe’s face was clouded with uncertainty.

"He’s right outside the front door," Ben said in a persuasive voice. "Why don’t you give him a hand?"

Joe continued to hesitate. He had seen so many unfamiliar things already today that he wasn’t sure he was ready for more. He took a deep breath. Finally, he nodded. "All right. I’ll go help."

Ben watched Joe walk to the front door and pull it open. As his youngest son left the house, he let out the breath he had been holding. It was a start, he thought.

After walking out the front door, Joe stood still. His gaze took in the yard and the countryside around the house. Once again, he looked for something that would be familiar to him, and once again, he was disappointed. Everything was new; he was seeing everything as if for the first time.

Working on the corral fence, Hoss had seen Joe come out of the house but pretended not to notice him. The truth was, Hoss had no idea what to say to his brother. He still felt bad about how miserable Joe looked at breakfast when he mentioned the south pasture. So Hoss just continued to work, and waited to see what Joe would do next.

Joe stood still, looking around, for several minutes. When nothing he saw triggered a memory, Joe sighed. Somehow, he knew nothing would be familiar. Joe turned to look at Hoss, who was busy tearing some old boards off the fence. Several planks of new lumber were stacked neatly to the side, along with a hammer and some nails. Joe took a deep breath and walked over to his older brother.

"Could you use some help?" Joe asked in a tentative voice.

Hoss turned and grinned. "Sure could," he said, his voice tinged with relief.

"What would you like me to do?" asked Joe.

"Grab the other end of this board and pull," ordered Hoss. "We need to get this old wood down and replace it with some new wood."

For the next half hour, Joe and Hoss worked silently, pulling the old wood off the fence. For Joe, it was a relief to just do what he was told, and not to have to think about things. Hoss still felt awkward around Joe. Rather than say something that might upset his brother, Hoss said nothing but what was absolutely necessary to finish their task.

When the old wood was finally down and cleared away, Hoss told Joe to pick up one of the new planks of wood and bring it over. As Joe went to the wood, Hoss reached down into a tin can to grab a handful of nails. He dropped several, and bent over to pick them up.

Joe was carrying the plank toward Hoss when Ben walked out of the house. Ben called to Joe, and Joe turned to see what he wanted. As he turned, Joe smacked Hoss on the rear with the board and sent the big man sprawling in the dirt.

Joe froze. He hadn’t meant to hit Hoss with the board, and he didn’t know how the big man would react to the accident. If Hoss had a temper, he might be really angry. A man that size could beat him to a pulp. Joe’s face betrayed the worry and fear he suddenly felt.

Hoss laid in the dirt for a moment, then sat up. He began to roar with laughter. He stopped abruptly when he saw the tragic look on Joe’s face.

"I’m…I’m sorry" said Joe in an apologetic voice. "I didn’t mean it, honest."

Hoss grinned. "It’s all right, Joe," he replied and started to shake with laughter again.

Ben rushed over. "Hoss, are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

Hoss nodded, laughing too hard to speak. "I’m fine," he said when he finally got his breath. "Joe just knocked me down."

Ben grinned. "You should have seen yourselves," he told his middle son with a laugh. "You two were better than a comedy at the theater."

A worried frown creased Joe’s face as he watched Ben and Hoss laughing. He realized he was still holding the plank, and quickly dropped it.

The thud of the wood on the ground caught Ben and Hoss’ attention. They turned to Joe, the laughter still in their eyes. The laughter died quickly when they realized Joe was not joining in.

"I’m really sorry," Joe repeated. "Are you sure you’re all right?"

"I’m fine," Hoss assured his brother. He shook his head at Joe’s reaction. His little brother should have been giggling, not worrying.

Ben also was sobered by Joe’s reaction. This was not the carefree young son he thought he knew.

Joe turned to Ben. "Did you want me for something?" he asked politely.

"I just came out to tell you that supper is going to be ready soon," answered Ben. "Why don’t you leave this for now and get cleaned up."

Joe nodded. He started walking toward the house, then stopped. He turned back to Hoss. "I really am sorry," he said again.

"Don’t worry about it," Hoss stated. "We’ll finish this tomorrow."

"All right," Joe agreed and walked toward the house.

Hoss stood up and brushed himself off, then sighed.

"What’s the matter?" asked Ben.

Hoss looked uncomfortable. “I was just thinking," said Hoss.

"About what?" pressed Ben.

"Aw, Pa, it’s going to sound silly," Hoss told his father.

"Silly?" said Ben curiously. "What’s silly?"

Hoss continued to look uncomfortable. "I miss Little Joe," he finally blurted out. When he saw Ben’s startled expression, Hoss tried to explain. "I mean, he looks like Joe and he sounds like Joe. But he’s not Joe, not really," Hoss added struggling for words. "I told you it was silly."

Ben shook his head. "No, it’s not silly," Ben stated gravely. "I know what you mean."

Hoss took a deep breath. "If this had happened a month ago, Joe would have been rolling on the ground with laughter," Hoss said.

"Hoss, I know," Ben agreed. "What’s happened has been hard on all of us. Joe’s not the same."

"Pa, I’d give anything to have the old Joe back," Hoss told his father wistfully.

"I know," Ben agreed again. "We just have to be patient and hope for the best." Ben laid his hand on Hoss’ shoulder. "Go get cleaned up for supper," he said gently. Hoss nodded and walked slowly toward the house. Ben watched until Hoss was in the house. Then he let his shoulders sag.

***********

Ben, Hoss and Joe were already eating dinner when Adam got home. He quickly left his hat and gun by the front door and walked into the dining room.

"Sorry I’m late," said Adam as he sat down. He peered at the food on the table. "Did Hoss leave me anything thing?" he asked with a smile.

"Good thing you got here when you did, older brother," Hoss replied. "I’m feeling right puny. I’m going to need all the nourishment I can get."

Ben smiled at the banter but noticed Joe didn’t join in. Joe ate his dinner in silence.

"How did the fence mending go?" asked Adam as he filled his plate with food. "I noticed you still had a lot to do when I rode in."

"It was fine until your brothers decided to start a comedy routine," explained Ben with a smile.

Adam raised a quizzical eye at Ben’s remark, then smiled as Hoss related how Joe had sent him sprawling. "I hope you smacked him good," Adam noted with a grin to Joe.

Joe flushed with embarrassment. "It was an accident," he mumbled.

"I know it was, Joe," Adam said gently. "All the same, I wish I was there to see it."

Joe said nothing and continued to eat. Adam looked at Ben. Ben just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"How did those horses look?" asked Ben, trying to fill the silence which suddenly had descended.

"Pretty good," answered Adam as he ate. "Almost as good as that string we found last spring up at Buckhorn Canyon."

Ben turned to Joe. "Do you remember that round-up?" he asked hopefully. "You roped that black stallion last spring. He’s turned out to be a pretty good stud."

Joe looked at Ben for a minute and frowned. Finally, he shook his head. "No," he said with discouragement in his voice. "I don’t remember."

Once again, an awkward silence ensued. Each of the Cartwrights seemed to suddenly find the dinner on their plate needed their attention. Adam looked thoughtfully at Joe as he ate.

"Pa," Adam said, "that creek up in Horseshoe Meadows is low again. I think I’d better check it. Those beavers we chased last spring might be back and damming it up." Adam looked at Joe. "We had some problems up there last spring," he explained. "Beavers dammed up the creek. We had to tear down the dam and chase the beavers out of there."

Joe just nodded.

"Joe, why don’t you come with me?" asked Adam.

"Me?" Joe replied in an incredulous voice.

"Sure, why not?" Adam said. "It’s an easy ride. And if there is a beaver dam, I could probably use some help."

"Adam, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea," advised Ben in a worried voice.

"Pa, we’re just going to take a short ride," Adam explained. "I’m sure Hoss can manage fixing the corral by himself." He turned to Joe. "Well, do you want to come along?"

Joe looked at Adam in confusion. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "I guess so."

"Good," acknowledged Adam in a hearty voice. "We’ll leave first thing in the morning."

The sun was barely up as the Cartwrights finished breakfast the next morning. This time, Joe was at the table early. He felt strangely eager to go with Adam to check on that creek. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt good to have something to look forward to.

Joe walked to the table and sat down. After an exchange of greetings with the others, he began eating his breakfast. Ben, Adam and Hoss ate in silence also.

Finally, Adam finished eating and stood. "C’mon, Joe, we should get going,” Adam announced. “I’ve got the horses all saddled and waiting out front."

Nodding, Joe stood also. He walked to the front door, then hesitated. On the table by the door were four gunbelts, rolled up and ready for some one to pick up. Adam watch silently as Joe looked at the gunbelts, then chose one. Joe slipped the belt around his hips and buckled it tight. It fit him perfectly. He grabbed a light colored had off the hat rack and walked out the door.

Adam walked to the open door and stood watching Joe. Ben came up behind him. "Adam…," Ben began, but Adam motioned to him to silent.

"Wait a minute, Pa," Adam interrupted his father. "I want to see something."

Ben looked out the door to try to spot whatever Adam wanted to see. All Ben could see was Joe walking over to his pinto. Joe checked the girth and then mounted. He looked expectantly around for Adam.

Ben frowned. "What did you want to see?" he asked.

Adam just shook his head. "I’ll tell you later," he replied quietly.

Ben looked at his oldest son with a confused expression. Finally, he said, "Adam, keep a close eye on Joe, won’t you?"

"You know I will," agreed Adam with a smile. He picked up his gunbelt from the table and grabbed a black hat from the hat rack. Placing the hat on his head, Adam started walking toward the horses, buckling the holster as he walked. He checked the girth on his saddle, and then mounted.

"Just follow me," Adam told Joe as he turned his horse and began to trot. Joe did the same.

Hoss had been standing behind Ben. "What was that all about?" asked Hoss as he and his father watched Adam and Joe ride away.

"I don’t know," answered Ben without turning. "Adam has something up his sleeve. I just can’t figure out what it is."

Adam rode slowly up the trail with Joe. Joe kept looking around at the unfamiliar scenery, hoping something might spark a memory. He waited tensely for Adam to ask him about the countryside, but Adam seemed more interested in just riding to the stream. Occasionally, Adam would stop and point out a landmark to Joe, telling him the name of a mountain or meadow. Joe was relieved when Adam simply told him the name of the place and rode on. Gradually, Joe began to relax and enjoy the ride.

When they reached the creek, Adam pulled his horse to a stop. He stared at the water with a frown. Joe pulled up next to Adam.

"What’s wrong?" asked Joe.

"That creek is even lower than yesterday," Adam replied. "Something must be damming it up. Let’s go take a look."

Adam headed his horse toward the hills behind him, and Joe followed. He was a bit confused because Adam seemed so disinterested in asking him about what he might remember. The rest of the men at the Ponderosa seemed to ask him that question all the time. Joe shrugged his shoulders and continued to follow Adam.

***********

Ben spent the day working at his desk. He tried to get the books up to date, but he couldn’t concentrate. He could hear Hoss working in the yard, but knew that the noise of Hoss pounding on the new fence wasn’t what was disturbing him. He was worried about Joe. He kept telling himself that he was being over-protective, that Adam wouldn’t let anything happen to his younger brother. But telling is one thing, and believing was another.

When he heard Adam and Joe riding in, Ben let out a sigh of relief. They had been gone a long time; it was getting close to dinner. Ben closed his ledger with a bang and walked rapidly to the door. He walked out in the yard just in time to see Adam and Joe dismounting near the barn. Both had mud on their boots, and flecks of mud dotted their shirts. But even more amazing was the expression on Joe’s face. He was relaxed and smiling, looking the like the old Joe.

"Well, you two were gone a long time," said Ben with a smile as he approached his sons. "What kept you?"

"The creek was dammed up," explained Adam. "We’ll tell you all about it at dinner. Right now, we have to put these horses away properly and then get cleaned up." Adam turned to Joe. "I’ll show you which stall to use."

"All right, thanks," answered Joe with an easy smile.

Ben stood in amazement as he watched Adam lead his horse into the barn, and Joe followed. He didn’t quite understand the way Adam was talking to Joe, or Joe’s new attitude. However, he thought that dinner was going to be a much more enjoyable than the meals they had sat through the last day or so.

Ben’s prediction about dinner seemed right. When Joe and Adam joined Hoss and Ben at the table, Joe continued to act more like he did before the accident. Ben stared at his youngest son as Joe easily slipped into his place and began reaching for the dishes of food. Ben turned to