The Hunt For Danny Miller

The Hunt for Danny Miller

By Annie K Cowgirl

Rating: PG (major character injured)

Ephesians 6:1-3 Children obey your parents in the Lord, because this is right. Honor your father and mother—which is the first commandment with a promise—that it may go well with you and that you may have a long life in the land.

Chapter One

He was slipping.
He didn't know when the actions of his body finally caught up to his sluggish brain, but he pushed the grey fingers of shock as far away as he could. The rain pounded down upon his unprotected frame, beating him into the sludge and slowly filling the hole where he lay. Glancing at the tiny bedraggled form in his grip, he forced his frozen right arm to heft the motionless boy higher in the murky water.
“Joe Cartwright, you got yourself into a real jam this time.” He murmured half-consciously to himself. Shifting his weight slightly to ease the cramp in his back muscles, he was nearly pulled into the blackness that hung around the fringes of his vision as pain rocketed up his left side. The piercing agony settled into his shoulder with a dull throb and remained there. He tried to force his mind into remembering exactly what had happened to make him ache all over, but nothing came to him. There was a strange rumbling noise somewhere above the rim of the pit and dread crept into his heart, keeping time with each beat the vital organ made.
It can't be a...Joe couldn't even make himself finish the terrible thought. Something splashed into the grime in front of him and with an effort, he tilted his head back to peer out of the well's opening. Dirt, rocks, tree branches, and torn up turf washed over the edge and rained down upon the two prone figures.
Flood!
Jerking forwards, he attempted to shield the sleeping boy in his lap from the falling debris to no avail. His stomach did a sickening flip-flop as he realized that help would not reach them before the inevitable occurred. Cursing himself for the fool he was, Joe wished with all his being that he had heeded his father's direct order and stayed home. He felt the fear clawing at his throat for deep down inside he knew he was going to die...and when he did, so would Danny!

Four Days Earlier

“Ugh! Doc, that is the worst stuff I've ever tasted in my life!”
Doctor Paul Martin tried to hide a smile as his patient spluttered at the foul flavored liquid.
“That ain't the entire truth, Little Joe; I remember when ya swallowed a whole bar of lye soap. Boy, if ya coulda just seen yer-”
“Cut it out, Hoss! That was when I was six-years-old, for Pete sake!” A chuckle erupted from the doorway to Joe's bedroom and the three figures turned as one.
“As I recall, Hoss, you dared your little brother into eating that and as a reward you had to do his chores for a month.” Ben Cartwright added his two cents worth, enjoying the chagrined look that settled on his middle son's features; he crossed the distance between the door and his youngest child. Joseph lay on his bed swathed in blankets and pillows, reminding the older man of a caterpillar wrapped in a cocoon. Ever so gently, Ben placed his hand against Joe's forehead, but the caring gesture earned him a scowl so he backed off.
“Well, Paul,” He turned to his friend, “how is our invalid doing?” The doctor placed the offending medicine on a nearby table before answering.
“Oh, I think he'll live—provided he doesn't decide to take another bath in Lake Tahoe anytime soon.” Joe frowned at the hated physician before offering his usual statement.
“I'm fine.”
An explosive sneeze ended the well-known phrase and the three onlookers burst into peals of laughter. Gathering his shredded dignity around him, Little Joe sniffed. Stretching the kinks out of his rail thin frame, Paul stood.
“I better get going before I become permanently attached to this chair. You know where to find me if you need my services before the end of the week; otherwise, I'll see all of you Sunday afternoon.”
“I'll walk you out.” Ben said and the two men headed toward the hallway.
“Seriously, Joseph, I want you to stay in bed for another couple of days. Make sure you take that medicine every morning and evening until it is all gone.” The doctor threw the last comment over his shoulder along with a look which let Joe know he meant every word he said. The boy made a face at Paul's retreating back before slumping into his pillow.
“What?” He snapped when he caught sight of a pair of sky-blue orbs examining him curiously.
“I was just wonderin' why ya wanted to swim in the lake when it ain't even warm out yet?” Joe rolled his eyes at Hoss, exasperated.
“I told you I didn't go for a swim! If you must know, the wind pulled my hat off my head while I was riding by and the darn thing landed on a tree branch hanging over the water. When I waded Cochise into the lake so I could get it, something spooked him and I fell in!” Hoss hastily shut his mouth on a guffaw, realizing from the set of his jaw that his little brother was in no mood to be teased.
“I think I'll go check an' see what Ole Hop Sing is makin' us for lunch.” The big man decided a tactical retreat was his safest option and quietly left the room.
“Swimming indeed.” Joe sniffed again and instantly regretted it as it set off another barrage of sneezing.

Chapter Two

“Pa!” The three Cartwrights were seated at the breakfast table when Adam burst through the front door. Shooting to his feet when his eldest son stumbled into the room, Ben grabbed the boy's arm to steady him, checking him over to see where he was hurt. Yanking his hand away, Adam glowered.
“I'm fine, Pa. Just a bit dizzy.” The next thing that came out of his mouth shocked the family to the core.
“The news is all over town, Pa, that Miller kid's gone missing.” The silence was deafening.
With an effort, Joe was the first one to regain his senses.
“Y-you don't mean Danny Miller...?” His pulse raced double-time as fear washed over him in waves. The Miller's had moved to Virginia City over a year ago and from the moment they met, Joe and Danny had become almost inseparable. Danny was so full of life, bouncing from place to place with the energy of a colt: playing, tussling, and romping about. Although there was a six year difference in their ages, that didn't seem to matter much and in many ways the boy was like the little brother Joe had never had.
“...seems he disappeared sometime yesterday afternoon and hasn't been seen since. Roy and the boy's pa are putting together a search party so I thought I'd come back here to get you two and as many of the ranch hands as possible to help them look.” Startled into the present, Joe caught the end of Adam's explanation and watched as his father and brothers moved toward the doorway to get their hats and firearms. Joe started to join the three, his lips scrambling for the right words to his inquiry.
“The answer is no, Joseph.” Ben saw the question forming in his son's brain and quickly put his foot down. Mouth agape, his youngest stuttered, “B-b-but you don't even know what I was gonna say!” Ben gave him a knowing look as he swung his gun belt into position and tied the lace around his thigh.
“It's been only a few days since you came down with that cold, and I don't want you getting any worse than you already are. Now get upstairs and go to bed!”
“But Pa-”
“I said now, Joseph!” Hearing the edge in his father's voice, the boy knew it would be no good trying to wheedle his way into joining them. His shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Yes, Pa.” The words were almost inaudible and with a ramrod-straight back, Joe climbed the stairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him for good measure. Shaking his wizened head, Ben followed his two older sons out to the barn to saddle up their horses. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Joe watched from his open window until he could no longer make out the figures of his family and the half-dozen ranch hands galloping away from the house. Sighing in frustration, he flopped down on his bed.
“It's not fair!” He groused to one of his pillows before throwing it as hard as he could against the wall across from where he lay. Of all the Cartwrights, he was the smallest, weakest, most accident prone and it rankled him.
“I can find Danny, cold or no cold.” He said. Suddenly he froze, an idea was forming in the back of his mind.
“No one's here to stop me....” A slow smile slithered across his face as his heart warmed to his scheme. Then his brow furrowed.
“There's Hop Sing....” The moment the thought occurred to him, he shoved it aside.
“I'll just go out through the window and he won't be any the wiser. Besides,” The grin returned in full force, “I'll be back before anyone notices that I'm gone and if I do find Danny, they'll be sorry they left me behind.”
A quiet tap on his door made Joe lower his head to the mattress, feigning sleep. The barrier slid open just enough to allow Hop Sing, bearing a tray full of food, to enter. Seeing the sleeping figure, the Chinaman set the tray on a nearby table. He picked up the pillow the youngest Cartwright had angrily cast aside and eased it under Joe's cheek. That done, he crossed the floor and with one last look, exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Instantly on his feet, Joe pulled his boots on, shoved his arms into his green jacket and looked down at the platter of food left for him.
“Chicken soup.” He grimaced. There was no way he could take the watery substance with him, but at least the cook had mercifully placed a few biscuits beside the bowl. He stuffed them into his pockets. Pausing momentarily, Joe thought about his gun belt, but it lay on the oaken sideboard downstairs and tantalizingly out of his reach. He shrugged his shoulders. There was nothing he could do about his lack of firearms; instead, he snagged his hat, which had somehow been left in his room, and tugged the brim low over his determined eyes. With a deep breath, he carefully slid a leg through the casement.
“ No turning back now.” He said to himself and he lowered his left foot into the old sycamore tree that he had used countless times before to escape his “prison”.

Chapter Three

“Dadburnit! Where could that little scamp be?” It had been five hours since the Cartwrights had joined the search party and Hoss was getting hungry and irritated, a combination that did not suit the bigger man's normally laid back personality. After arriving in Virginia City, sheriff Roy Coffee had split the gathered men into groups of four to go over every possible inch of the surrounding area to find the Miller kid. Nothing was found; not a single track, piece of cloth or even a hair could be seen of Danny. It was as if the boy had vanished into thin air.
“I don't like it,” Hoss muttered to his pa as they headed back to town to report, “a youngin don't just disappear like that', it ain't natural.” Ben nodded in agreement. A thought struck him and he hauled rein on his buckskin mount.
“Son, we've checked everywhere we can possibly thing of, right?” Puzzled, his son squinted at him.
“I don't think I follow ya-”
“Think, Hoss! We've searched all of Virginia City, the Miler's spread, the river, the surrounding woods....” Ben's words trailed off as he saw understanding dawn on the bigger man's face.
“Not everywhere.” Hoss said, and the two Cartwrights kicked their mounts into a gallop, startling the two other men beside them into action. Soon the four riders came to a stand still outside the sheriff's office and Ben dismounted, racing inside the cramped building. Hunched over a map that lay spread across the desk, Adam, Sheriff Coffee and Isaac Miller glanced up as the wild-eyed figure burst through the door.
“The Ponderosa, Roy!” The old lawman felt his blood run cold.
“What's happened to-”
“No, nothing's happened to the ranch, just get as many men out there as soon as possible!” When he received only blank stares, Ben continued almost shouting, “Don't you see?That's the only other place the boy could be.”
“Of course!” The groan gained the attention of the other men and Isaac Miller placed his worry-stained face in his gnarled hands.
“I don't know why I didn't think of that. Only two days ago, I told Danny he couldn't go out to your ranch, Mr. Cartwright, because I heard your son was sick. I didn't want my kid botherin' Joe with his incessant chatter when your boy was supposed to be restin'. Danny was pretty het up about bein' confined to our place. I just thought he'd cool off sooner or later....” Isaac's voice faltered and then died altogether.
It took Roy half a second to make it over to the Bucket of Blood Saloon and get his men together. As the searchers once again left town and headed for the Ponderosa, Hoss pulled his horse, Chubb, up alongside his father and older brother who were leading the way.
“Pa, I don't like the looks of that.” Hoss pointed to the churning, sickly green clouds overhead. Ben took one look and urged Buck to an even greater speed; they had to find Danny before all hell broke loose!

* * *

It had taken Joe far longer to saddle Cochise than he would like to admit—even to himself—and the energy began sapping out of his body before he had left the ranch yard. Somehow he knew that his friend was on the Ponderosa, and he checked every nook and cranny he had ever be to with the boy: nothing.
“Come on, Danny. Where are you?” He voiced the thought that spun round in circles in his mind; a bone jarring cough full of phlegm erupted from his chest, making him double over the pommel. He didn't know how long he had been gone from home, but it seemed like an eternity. A distant roll of thunder brought his head up and he scowled at the ugly state of the heavens above.
Joe realized he hadn't brought along his slicker; berating himself for being so stupid, he decided to cut his search short before he got caught in the oncoming thunderstorm. The wind picked up and he tugged the brim of his hat lower over his eyes. As he started to pass by the old Ferguson shack, he paused.
“I wonder...?” Without warning, Cochise's two-toned ears pricked up and he let out a shrill whinny.
“What is it , boy?” Joe patted the pinto's neck. The question would have sounded ridiculous if Joe had been riding any other mount, but his relationship with his favorite horse went beyond the rational. Stretching his nose forward, the animal snorted as he picked out a familiar scent.
“Is it the kid?” As if in response to his master's inquiry, Cochise bobbed his head up an down and he trotted off in the direction his senses indicated. It didn't take long for the horse and rider to round the dilapidated building. There at the back of the house was an old well and Joe saw the disturbance around the mouth of the dark hole in the ground. Sliding to the earth, he scrabbled for a handhold on the saddle as a wave of dizziness nearly swamped him. For a long time he stood there, not daring to make any sudden moves for fear he might pass out.
“Help....” The voice pressed Joe into action and he moved as close to the fissure as was safe.
“Danny?” The call echoed into the darkness, bouncing off the bottom of the pit and ringing loudly in Joe's ears.
“Joe? Help me, Joe!” As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Little Joe could just make out the form of the miserable seven-year-old. Scrambling back to Cochise, he flipped open his saddle bags and finally found what he was looking for. He pulled out a long lariat and tied one end to his saddle horn. Making a loop on the opposite end, He carefully led the pinto over to the well.
“Danny, I'm gonna throw a rope down to you. Just slip it around your waist and I'll-”
“I can't, my foot's stuck! Help me, Joe, I'm gonna die!” Trying to ignore the panic that welled up in his heart, the youngest Cartwright slipped the loop of the lasso around his own waist.
“Easy there, little man; I'm coming.” He forced false confidence into the words to sooth the frightened child. Then, against his better judgment, he slid his feet over the lip of the shaft and lowered his body into the blackness below.

Chapter Four

The cavalcade rounded the last bend in the trail, and there before them was the ranch house, warm and inviting.
“Alright, Adam Hoss, get these men some new mounts. I'll go have a talk with Little Joe and see if he might have an idea where Danny would go to on the ranch.” Ben slid down from his perch on Buck and limped through the door and into his living room. Hearing someone enter, Hop Sing popped his out of the kitchen to see who was there.
“Oh, Mistah Cartwright, I not know you make it back in time for suppah-” Ben waved the apology away before glancing around.
“Where's Joe?” The oriental man pointed a finger at the staircase.
“Hop Sing no see number three son; not since he take him lunch long time ago.” Shaking his head, Ben slowly made his way to the second floor and stood uneasily outside his youngest son's door. He felt guilty for the way he had spoken to Joe and wasn't sure what sort of mood to expect from the boy. Deciding not to delay the inevitable, he inhaled a deep breath and turned the knob.
“Joe?” He whispered into the darkened room, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep. No answer. Making his way cautiously over to the nightstand, Ben fumbled with the oil lamp, finally touching a lit match to the wick before replacing the light onto the table.
Turning to look at the bed, he was shocked to discover that the room was empty! A sudden cool breeze hit him in the face and Ben realized the window was open.
“JOSEPH FRANCIS CARTWRIGHT!” With a lunge, he flung himself out of the room, down the stairs and into the shadow-filled yard. Adam hurried over when he saw his father dash out the front door, worry evident on his handsome features.
“Pa, Cochise isn't in the barn....” The sentence trailed off as he noticed the lines of fury carved deep into the older man's forehead.
“Dadblame it! He done run off, didn't he?” By that time, Hoss had joined the two Cartwrights and added his sentiments to the conversation.
“Where in tarnation would that boy go to, Pa?” Ben looked at both his sons. Knowing full well why—if not where—Little Joe had gone. Raising a shaky hand, he gesticulated.
“Your brother is out there somewhere and when I get my hands on him....” The phrase went unfinished as a familiar black and white horse cantered into the yard with a frayed rope dangling from the pommel!

* * *

The lariat hadn't been quite long enough for him to reach the bottom, but Joe did the best he could and slipped out of the loop he had made. His riding boots hit the bottom of the well with a splash and the shallow water settled around his ankles; reaching back up, he untied the noose in the rope and let the long end dangle down about three more feet.
“You came for me.” Danny whimpered and Joe scrambled around in the almost total darkness. Finding the quaking figure, he pulled the boy against his chest and let him sob until his tears subsided into sporadic hiccups. Joe released the kid after a while, staring in the direction he thought the youngster's face would be.
“Alright, Danny, your gonna have to take my hand and show me where your foot is stuck.”
“K'.” The tiny hand slipped into Joe's and slid down the boy's thin leg until he touched his lower shin. There, protruding from a solid wall of rock that insulated the well from the surrounding mud, was a tree root. He was surprised to find that the root was not below the water line.
How in the heck did he get his foot in there? Joe wondered, but didn't have the heart to ask Danny, knowing the kid's emotions were already taut as a bowstring. Releasing the child's hand, Joe grasped the wood in a strong grip and jerked with all his might.
It didn't budge. Again, he tried and again until Joe felt the blood trickle down his wrists from his lacerated hands.
“It's no good. I'll have to go get help; I can't do this alone.” The lad sniffed and the last thing Joe wanted to do was leave him by himself in the dark, yet there was nothing else he could do.
Trust me, Danny, I'll be back as soon as I can.” After regaining his feet, Joe forced his injured digits to close around the lariat and he began to climb. Inch by agonizing inch, he worked himself upwards, trying to ignore the trembling of his tortured arms.
He was almost to the top of the well when the unthinkable happened. The rope in his hands groaned, giving slightly and then with sickening snap, it parted. And he was falling! The scream he emitted as he tumbled through the air abruptly cut off when his body hit the ground.
“Joe?” Danny whispered into the ensuing silence, wiping water off of his face from his friend's impact with the foul liquid. The figure neither moved nor made a sound. Feeling around like a player in blind man's bluff, the kid grabbed a handful of shirt and gently tugged until Joe's unconscious head lay in his lap.
“Joe?” Danny touched the clammy face; again there was no response. Fear overwhelmed the young boy and he wept, but this time there was no comforting embrace, for Joseph Cartwright lay ominously still.

Chapter Five


It was a nightmare. Ben closed his eyes tightly; he could hear voices all around him, but none of the words registered in his brain.
Oh, Joseph!
“Pa?” A touch on his shoulder made him reopen his orbs. Adam stood there in front of him, concern etched on his handsome features. Then he looked beyond his son's shoulder to the horse that he had hoped was a figment of his imagination. It was no dream; Joe was out there hurt or maybe even...even....
“Pa?” This time it was Hoss. Something snapped inside of Ben Cartwright and he strode toward the appaloosa that had been saddled for him, determination running through his veins.
“Ben! Now there's no sense in going of half-cocked. That storm isn't gonna hold much longer an even so, you don't know where Joe went.” Whirling around, he stared Roy Coffee in the face.
“I don't care about the storm, Roy. I'm going to find my son and bring him home, if it's the last thing I do!” He grabbed the pommel and vaulted onto the horse's back.
“Now if you men want to stay here until the weather clears, be my guest, but I'm going out!” He address the gathered men and then jumped his mount into a gallop.

* * *

A thousand drummers beat double-time in his brain as he slowly regained consciousness. Even with his eyes closed, the world seemed to bee spinning crazily around him, making his gut churn with nausea. Oh, how his head hurt! Raising his right hand to sooth his aching temples, he realized quickly enough that that wasn't a good idea.
The moment he moved, pain ricocheted up and down in his body, making the feat of breathing almost impossible to accomplish.
“Aaaaghhhh!”
“Joe?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar to him and he opened his eyes a crack. Two Danny's loomed only a foot above him, and he blinked again and again until the two figures merged into one. He frowned.
“Where...?” As if on cue, the memories of the past few hours came back to him in a rush; the fight with his father...leaving the ranch...finding his friend...and finally the terrifying experience of falling through the air, flooded into his mind.
“Joe, you okay?” The question was ridiculous; of course he was not okay, but Joe reigned in his temper. It would do him no good; sooner or later, he would need someone to talk to and since Danny was the only person stuck in the well with him, it would be best not to antagonize the young boy.
“Yeah.” He hoped the kid couldn't see through the lie.
“Can you sit up now? My legs are going numb.”
“I'll try.” The effort to rise was monumental, but after a few tries and Danny's help, Joe managed to succeed.
“How did you end up down here anyways?” His curiosity took over. Danny hung his head, mumbling something under his breath.
“Huh?”
“I said, it was just plain stupidity.” Joe's forehead wrinkled, still not totally understanding.
“Pap said I couldn't go see you and the last time we were together, you said you would take me exploring here at the Ferguson place. Soooo....”
“...you decided to come check it out without your father's permission.” Joe finished his friend's sentence. The boy nodded his head in agreement.
“Boy aren't we a pair.”
“Joe?” The youngest Cartwright blushed, grateful for the shadowy darkness of the well so his friend couldn't see the state of his face. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.
“By the way, what are you doing here?” Oh great! This was just the topic he would like to avoid.
“Looking for you.” There, maybe that will satis—
“While you're sick? That's not the smartest idea.” Feeling the discomfort at the shift in conversation, Joe had to hide a grin, for this was the reason he liked Danny so much. The kid had the same blunt honesty as he himself had.
“Welllllll...To tell the truth....” Joe watched the boy's eyes widen in shock as he filled him in on the hair-brained scheme that landed him in the same position. Silence echoed around the two figures in their muddy cell.
“Alright, that's enough gabbing for now; let's see about getting that foot of yours unstuck.” Joe reached his left arm toward Danny's leg, but the limb just flopped awkwardly to the side. He sucked in a breath as the stars wheeled in his brain. When the spots receded, he glanced down and instantly wished he hadn't. The shoulder was twice its normal size for his wet jacket restricted the swelling in the appendage, and it hung like a dead thing.
“Dislocated.” He couldn't think of anything worse...but then the rain came.

* * *

“Pa! Pa, wait up!” The rumbling of horses hooves lifted Ben out of the angry haze that had settled over his vision. Turning his head he saw Adam, Hoss, and Isaac Miller racing up the road towards him.
“Whew! Adam, did ya put a burr under Bounce's saddle?” Hoss murmured to his brother, indicating their father's mount.
“If you boys are gonna try to talk me out of-”
“Aaaaww, horse feathers! Aintcha got more sense than that, Pa?” Ben opened his mouth to reply, but Hoss continued, “'Sides, ya done tried to leave the best tracker behind ya, stormin' off like that.” All the irritation drained out of the older man and he quirked a brow at his middle son.
“Oh, and that would be...?” He let the sentence hang unfinished as he watched, with delight, the play of emotions running across Hoss's face.
“Dadburnit, Pa-”
“What younger brother is trying to say is, 'we're going with you, and sitting around talking about it isn't going to do Joe any good.'” Adam interjected. Ben nodded in agreement and then let his eyes shift to Isaac Miller, a last question lingering in his mind. As if sensing the inquiry, the other man spoke.
“You can count me in, Mr. Cartwright; I'd go stir crazy waitin' for the storm to pass.” With a nod, Ben welcomed the company and with that, the four riders set off down the path left by Cochise.

Chapter Six

“Okay, buddy, I'm gonna need your help to get my arm back in place.” Joe carefully started to remove his belt, the action awkward to accomplish with his bum wing. After a few moments of tugging, the leather slipped out of the last loop on his pants and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Alright. Now, I'm gonna lay down here, Danny, take my left arm and-”
“I can't!” The explosion of panic was the last thing Joe expected, but he hardened his resolve.
“Yes you can and you will. Look, Danny, do you think I want you to do this because it's fun?” He stared the boy in the eye.
“No...” The kid mumbled.
“Okay then, as I was saying, you're gonna take my left hand and jerk it as hard as you can, forwards and up.” Seeing his friend recoil at the notion, he grabbed Danny's shirt in a firm grip with his right hand.
“Please, I need you to do this so we can get outta here.”
“Alright.” Joe slid down the rock wall until his shoulders were semi-submerged in the murky water, shocked to find that it had risen at least six inches since the rain started. He placed the belt between his teeth and nodded to the boy beside him. With a deep breath, Danny Miller grasped Joe's left hand and pulled with all his might; white hot light filled Cartwright's brain and then there was nothing.

* * *

The heavens opened up and a deluge of water like tears, fell from the weeping skies. It was slow going for the four riders and soon Hoss, who had taken the lead, trotted back to his companions.
“It's no good, Pa, the blasted rain's washed out all the tracks.” Ben felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest, but he refused to let his grief rise to the surface...or his guilt.
“We'll keep going this way.”
“But, Pa-”
“I said,” Ben looked his son straight in the eye, “we'll keep going this way.” Slowly Hoss nodded and rode ahead.
“How could I have been so stupid?” Ben muttered to himself, but he wasn't quiet enough.
“You couldn't have known Joe was going to run off, Pa.” Adam tried to placate his parent; the older man would have none of it.
“I'm his father! I've been with him almost every day of his entire life, how could I not know what he was planning to do?”
“Pa, I'm not saying-”
“It's my fault! I should have done something to stop him! I should have-”
“What would you have done? Tie him to his bed like a bad puppy? He's sixteen, Pa; he's old enough to make his own choices!” Adam desperately hauled rein on his temper and then added in a more reasonable tone, “And he's old enough to live with the consequences of his actions.” The two men stared each other in the eye until Ben grudgingly conceded to the logic of his eldest's argument.
“Pa, we're going to find Joe-” From out of nowhere a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and struck a tree nearby. It cracked and without any further warning crashed down on top of Adam, causing him to fall from the saddle like a rag doll.
“ADAM! Son-” Fear choked the rest of his words and Ben threw himself from Bounce's back. The figure lying in the mud did not respond even when his father touched his bloodied face. All hope flooded out of him as he saw what he had always dreaded: his sons dying.

Chapter Seven

Everything was numb: his feet, his hands, his head and—mercifully—his shoulder which was bound up in his belt. He had lost track of the time, only realizing that the sun must be headed towards the horizon since it was becoming increasingly hard to see in the darkened well.
“Joeeeeee...I'm tiredddddd....” It was the first thing Danny had said for at least two hours, and the Cartwright boy was worried. Releasing the tree root he was still desperately trying to pull apart, he gentle slid the child onto his soaked lap.
“S'okayyy...So am IIII...but we gotta stayyyy...awakeeee.” Joe nearly started at the strangeness of his own voice, for it had turned raspy and weak; his sentence sounding as if he were half-drunk. His chest burned and the rest of the words were drowned out by a tremendous cough that shook his frame, almost knocking Danny off of his new perch.
“Y'okay?”
“Y-y-ye-ah-” He could barely manage that one word and he knew something was dreadfully wrong, but didn't want to think about the possibilities. The rain—which came down in sheets—seemed to pelt down upon them even heavier than before and he could hardly hear himself think much less speak. Shaking the wetness of of his hat brim, he returned to the task at hand, reaching for the slippery piece of wood. As if of its own volition, his mouth opened and the familiar tune echoed in the claustrophobic space around them.
“Ole Susanna...Ohhhh don't ya cryyyy...for meeee.”

* * *

“Pa...Pa we can't stay here; that storm's gettin' worse an' that creek's swellin' like a hot air balloon.” Hoss's voice finally broke through the shock and Ben glanced up at the sky. The clouds were darker than before, the trees swaying wildly in the gusts of wind and he nodded.
“Is there anyplace nearby where we can take shelter?” Isaac Miller yelled above the howling breeze even though he knelt beside the older Cartwright. Hoss scratched his chin for a moment before answering.
“Well... there's that ole Ferguson place, though it mayn't be standin' nomore, but it's worth a try.”
The other two men helped to get Adam's limp form up in front of his father on his appaloosa and soon they were off, riding as fast as they dared for the shelter ahead.
It seemed like hours later before they caught sight of the half-collapsed cabin in the failing light. One side had fallen in, but there was enough room on the other side of the building for them to stay dry. It took about ten minutes for movement to cease in the tiny structure and for the briefest of seconds, silence reigned supreme.
Hoss grimaced at the sight of his brother. Adam looked really bad, his face was a mass of red welts as if someone had struck him repeatedly with a quirt. His breathing had a wet sound to it that neither he nor Ben liked; at least two ribs seemed to be broken, but they couldn't be sure if his lung had been punctured or not. In no time, the still figure began moaning in intense pain. It took the combined strength of both Ben and Isaac to hold Adam down as he twitched and writhed upon the moldy mattress that was all that was left of a bed. Hoss stood off to the side, wringing his hands until he could no longer stand to hear the cries of his sibling.
“I'll go take care of the horses, Pa.” With that lame excuse he fled the building and trotted over to the slightly better made barn.
“Easy, big fella.” He soothed his mount, Samson—an eighteen-hand dapple grey—who shifted his feet nervously at the shrieking echoes of the wind.
“Easy...shhh. There's nothin' a big fella like you should be afraid of.” The words made Hoss feel guilty at how he had run off, leaving his Pa to take care of Adam, but he just couldn't...No...wouldn't stand there helplessly by...Doing nothing...feeling everything--
A sharp crack of lightning split the sky followed closely by a shot of thunder that sounded as if the second coming was upon them.
Hoss's head came up, but it wasn't from the thunder. An earsplitting scream filled the night air and the bigger man's heart froze in terror...and hope.

Chapter Eight

“The Lorddd is my shepherddd...I shalllll not wantttt...” Little Joe no longer felt the cold, or the pain as the wood tore at his fingers. He tugged at the tree root, trying desperately to stay away and ward off the deadly slumber that had already claimed Danny. The boy lay unmoving on his lap, the water now touching the child's chin.
“Heee maketh me to lie downnn... in green-” Something gave under his hand and the whippy end of the root popped out of the wall, nearly slapping Joe in the face.
“Pastures.” He finished the sentence, but stared at the slimy thing as if it were a precious gem.
“Honor thy father and thy mother...” It was as if Pa was in the well with him, the words were that fresh in his memory although they hadn't been spoken for quite some time.
“Ohhhhh....Paaaaaaa...” If only he could turn back time. If only he could be a good boy who was obedient. If only...
If onlyyyyy....

STAY AWAKE!

He was slipping.
He didn't know when the actions of his body finally caught up to his sluggish brain, but he pushed the grey fingers of shock as far away as he could. The rain pounded down upon his unprotected frame, beating him into the sludge and slowly filling the hole where he lay. Glancing at the tiny bedraggled form in his grip, he forced his frozen right arm to heft the motionless boy higher in the murky water.
“Joe Cartwright, you got yourself into a real jam this time.” He murmured half-consciously to himself. Shifting his weight slightly to ease the cramp in his back muscles, he was nearly pulled into the blackness that hung around the fringes of his vision as pain rocketed up his left side. The piercing agony settled into his shoulder with a dull throb and remained there. He tried to force his mind into remembering exactly what had happened to make him ache all over, but nothing came to him. There was a strange rumbling noise somewhere above the rim of the pit and dread crept into his heart, keeping time with each beat the vital organ made.
It can't be a...Joe couldn't even make himself finish the terrible thought. Something splashed into the grime in front of him and with an effort, he tilted his head back to peer out of the well's opening. Dirt, rocks, tree branches, and torn up turf washed over the edge and rained down upon the two prone figures.
Flood! Jerking forwards, he attempted to shield the sleeping boy in his lap from the falling debris to no avail. His stomach did a sickening flip-flop as he realized that help would not reach them before the inevitable occurred. Cursing himself for the fool he was, Joe wished with all his being that he had heeded his father's direct order and stayed home. He felt the fear clawing at his throat for deep down inside he knew he was going to die...and when he did, so would Danny!
Out of nowhere, a fist-sized stone fell into the opening smacking him on the left shoulder; he saw stars and the worst noise he had ever heard came to his ears: his own scream!

* * *

“Joe?” Hoss raced out into the pouring rain, following the echoes of the cry. The only thing he could see through the sheets of water was a blur of black to the left where the house stood and another blur, green this time, indicating the tree line. He began a thorough search of the yard, wishing he had been smart enough to grab the lantern he had carelessly forgotten in the barn.
He nearly fell into the open hole. His boot smashed into one of the rotting boards that made up what was left of the well covering; the piece of wood flipped over and fell down into the black opening. Another scream followed as the scrap fell on top of someone.
“JOE!” Hoss couldn't believe it. When no answer came he turned, jogging back to the cabin.
“Don't ya worry none, Joe, we'll get ya outta there!

Chapter Nine

Joe was warm again, and he snuggled down into the depths of the blanket swathed about his shoulders. He was content, or at least he was until the swarm of bees started to surround him, zipping about his ears with a sound like angry whining.
buzz, buzz, buzz, Joe...buzz, buzz, buzz.... At first, it was a minor annoyance, but soon the buzzing grew louder and louder in pitch until he could no longer stand it.
Buzz, buzz, BUZZ!! He swatted at the insects with his left hand, only to find the limb tied down with something.
“Make it stop...Make it stop...MAKE IT STOPPPPPP!!!!” He shouted to no avail, but his screams came out as a barely audible whisper. The blanket was no longer inviting in its warmth and a sudden burning sensation licked up his legs, coursing through his veins like molten steel.
“Buzz, looks like...buzz, buzz...coming out of it...BUZZ!!” He felt someone touch his uninjured arm, but he didn't have the strength to respond anymore. A lifting sensation roused him enough to open his weighted eyelids. A large ham-like face was barely three inches away from his own and he blinked, trying to rid his sight of the black spots that spun before him in a fantastical dance pattern.
“Hoss?” He didn't even realize he'd said the name aloud until the bottomless sapphire eyes made contact with his glassy gaze.
“Joe, thank God!” If his big brother said anything more, it was lost in the crash of another bolt of thunder. Feeling his left arm bump against the side of the well, sent another shock wave of excruciating pain through the rest of his battered form and again the darkness encroached on his consciousness.

* * *

“Pa, what are we gonna do?” Ben glanced up at his large son for one split second before returning his attention to his two injured boys. After an hour's work, the three men: Hoss, Ben and Isaac had been successful is getting Joe and Danny out of the deathtrap they had fallen into; now they were playing the waiting game. The storm outside still raged on and the creek grew higher and higher with every passing minute. Finally, Ben made up his mind.
Abruptly he stood and began throwing his damp coat over his shoulders.
“We're heading out.”
“But, Pa, we can't move them--”
“I said, we're moving out!” He barked, then in a milder tone remarked, “Hoss, you take, Joe, I'll take Adam and Isaac will take his boy. It will work I know it will.”
It has to.

It was the worst three hours of all of their lives. The wind howled like a coyote at the hidden moon, raindrops pelting their barely protected bodies with the impact of stone on flesh. Even though at least two of the men knew the Ponderosa like the backs of their hands, everything looked so different in the pitch black of the night that they made their way home by the trial and error method. When the ranch house again came into view, all three of the victims were deathly silent. Ben gave a sigh of relief when he caught sight of a familiar rig tied to the hitch rail.
So there will be no more wasted time searching for Doc Martin; than God for that!
The front door opened and a warm yellow glow flowed out into the chilly yard as Hop Sing stood on the threshold gazing at the newcomers with his black oriental eyes.
“You come inside, before fall off horses.” His choppy English was a balm to the weary travelers hearts.
Soon all of the doctor's patients were hustled upstairs and into bed. But if the men drying off downstairs thought that their trial was over, they were sadly misled, for they had only won the battle, but the war was still being waged.

Chapter Ten

It was hot. He felt like his body had been thrown like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego into the blazing furnace. Pushing the covers off of his heaving chest, he tried to escape the torturous heat, but a hand restrained him. The blankets were once again tucked under his chin; a cold cloth relieved him of the licking flames, but only for one brief, wonderful minute.
“Off...get...it...off...” He murmured, trying to break loose from the vice-like grip pinning his aching right shoulder to the mattress.
“Easy, Joseph. Just take it easy; stop fighting me.” The boy knew the voice, but didn't have the energy to open his eyes and see who it was. It hurt to think, it hurt to breath....
A hacking cough rumbled forth from his compressed chest. But he had no energy, and he nearly strangled himself before the icy hands pulled him into a sitting position and began beating his back. His shoulder ached abominably, but he didn't care; all he cared about was breathing again.
“Joe! Help me, Joe...I'm stuck down here!”
Danny? Why was he...
Of course! They were both still stuck down in that hell-hole of a well. Why oh why had he not listened to Pa?
“Pa...Pa, please! Help me, Pa. OH, GOD IN HEAVEN, HELP ME!” Nothing. Joe called a bit louder trying to listen for an answer that did not come. His hair lay plastered to his pale forehead and sweat refused to form on his superheated brow.
Suddenly, a dreaded shadow filled his mind; Little Joe felt the panic rising within him along with the fever.
“Dannyyyy?” Another cough bubbled up inside him, but it was no use; he was drowning and there was nothing he could do about it.
Children obey your parents in the Lord, because this is right. Honor your father and mother—which is the first commandment with a promise—that it may go well with you and that you may have a long life in the land....Pa was quoting the scripture verse again in that stern voice of his.
“Pa...Pa...please, I'm sorryyyyy....”

* * *

It may be for years and it may be forever.... Ben had no idea why the verse from Kathleen Mavourneen sneaked into his brain, but it seemed oddly appropriate as he waited for Doc Martin to exit his youngest's room. It had been Joe's favorite song since the first time he heard a drifter sing it and now Ben could not stop hearing the mournful tune in his head. Closing his eyes, he slowly slid down the wall until he was in a sitting position, his head burried in his hands.
It may be for years and it may be forever...
“Pa...Pa, please! Help me, Pa. OH GOD IN HEAVEN, HELP ME!” Little Joe's scream cut through the cobwebs in his brain, and he bolted to his feet, threw back the door and charged into the sickroom.
What he saw made his heart stop. Joe's hair was a mess of damp curls from the wet clothes that had been draped over his forehead, his face contorted in pain as he tried to take in a rattling breath. But his son no longer looked like himself. He was paler than death, his eyes sunken deep in their sockets and a dribble of spittle slid down his chin.
“Ben! Get out of here!” Doc Martin struggled to turn his patient onto his side.
“Pa...Pa...please, I'm soryyyyy....” In an instant, ignoring the doctor's orders, he stood beside the bed crooning softly as he added his own two hands to the physician's efforts.
“Shhhh...Son, of course I forgive you, rest now...rest.” It seemed as if Joe heard his father's words, for he no longer writhed away from the two men. His breathing slowed considerably, and without knowing what he was doing, Ben began to sing the familiar words, “Kathleen Mavourneen, the grey dawn is breaking....”

Chapter Eleven

Two Days Later

A grey dawn broke over the horizon, dispersing the remaining rain clouds as if herding sheep. A finger of golden light reached over the windowsill and just touched the sleeping figures face. He stirred, lifted his head and rubbed the drowse out of his eyes.
“Joe!” Doc Martin nearly fell out of the chair he was perched on at Ben's cry. But there was nothing to fear, for although he was weak, Little Joe gazed back at the two men, his emerald eyes full of clarity and void of the haze of fever. Paul touched the boys forehead then turned a dazzling smile on his old friend.
“Well, Ben, I think he'll pull through now.” Glancing at the youth he added in mock severity.
“You, young man, gave us quite a bit of trouble for the past few days; you have.” Noticing the emotion welling up in the father's eyes, the physician decided to leave the two alone.
“Since I'm no longer needed here, I think I'll pop in on my other patients.” And he hastily exited the room.
“P-pa?” Joe struggled with the word and Ben lowered himself back in the chair he had vacated only moments before.
“It's okay, Son--”
“Pa...Danny?”
“He's asleep in Hoss's room. He's going to be fine, thanks to you, but he'll mend well.”
“Pa...I'm sorry...I disobeyed you and...God punished me for it.” The older man's brow furrowed, not understanding.
“What do you mean, 'God punished you?'” The boy avoided his father's gaze, but finally replied.
“Children obey your parents in the Lord, because this is right. Honor your father and mother—which is the first commandment with a promise—that it may go well with you and that you may have a long life in the land. You've quoted that to me since before I can remember. Well, He nearly took my life for breaking the commandment.”
“Oh, Joseph, what am I going to do with you?” Ben paused before continuing.
“It is true that God—who is the perfect Father—punishes us when we do wrong, but it also true that He loves us with all of His heart and doesn't wish to see us harmed. God spared you because...well, because He knows I need you here with me...because I love you.” The teen's eyes overflowed and he weakly grasped Ben's shirt with his right hand and tugged. Ben willingly let himself be pulled into the embrace.
It may be for years and it may be forever...but not this time, he thought to himself and a gently smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

* * *

Creak! Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle....Sniff.
“Joe?”
Joe wearily opened his eyes—which seemed as if they had closed only moments ago—and peered up into Danny Miller's face. He was still a bit pale, and a bruise of fantastical colors lit up the left side of his face' the boy limped forward, leaning heavily on a crutch Doctor Martin had given him to help keep him from putting too much weight on his bad ankle.
“Hi....” Joe frowned at the cottony feeling in the back of his throat that made his voice sound foreign.
“Hi, yourself....” There was a long pause before the child spoke again and in the silence, Joe could hear boards creaking outside, chains jangling and the whinny of a horse that told him someone was hitching up a buckboard.
“Uh, the Doc said it was alright if I go home now....I wanted to say...I'm sorry, Joe.” The youngest Cartwright's features radiated the shock he felt at the unexpected words.
“What? Why'd you wanna go and do a fool thing like that, Danny?” Blue eyes meet a pair of green ones.
“It's my fault you got hurt--”
“Now wait just a minute! It was NOT your fault that I decided to come looking for you. It was NOT your fault that I'm sick and have a busted shoulder, and it is definitely NOT your fault that I'm grounded to the ranch yard for the rest of my life!” He winked and Danny's somber expression gave way to a dazzling smile and the two boys embraced each other.
“Daniel? It's time to go.” Isaac Miller popped his head around Joe's bedroom door. With one last grin, the kid headed towards his father.
“Hey, Danny, no more exploring without me, okay?” The invalid called after him.
“'K!” He laid his head back into the softness of his down pillow, his heart floating on a see of happiness and slowly, relentlessly his eyelids drooped down tugging him back into the realm of sleep.

Epilogue


“JOSEPH FRANCIS CARTWRIGHT, YOU ARE DEAD!” Ben's head shot up from his paperwork at Adam's shout. It had been a month since the incident with Danny Miller and things had been, well difficult lately. Adam, although not as badly injured as his little brother, still had twinges of pain every now and again from his healing ribs and the concussion from the blow to his skull made sudden movements unbearable. He was soon up and about, doing the normal chores that his wounds would allow.
His brother, however, was a whole different story entirely. After a week of bed-rest, Joe was ready to be up and about—as usual—and it took all of Ben's patience to not sit on his youngest just to keep him in his room. When three weeks had gone by, the pranks had begun and no one was safe from Joe's devious tricks.
Sighing inwardly, Ben hoisted himself to his feet and made his way across the living room floor. Twisting the door latch in his right hand, he pulled the barrier open and froze. His mouth—which had been pulled into a frown—began to wobble upwards at the scene before him.
Adam was in a rage, stomping around under the sycamore tree, shaking his fist at the tree's occupant. Joseph, safely ensconced in the higher branches and out of the older Cartwright's reach, sat grinning like a Cheshire cat, all the while giggling and pointing his finger towards one of the outbuildings until he nearly fell from his perch. Puzzled, He followed his son's gestures until he found the source of Adam's ire. Nailed to the barn door, for all the world to see, was his oldest son's long underwear! This time, Ben couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled up from deep inside him. Shaking his graying head, he muttered good naturedly to himself.
“Some things never change.”

THE END

Author's Note:

Kathleen Mavourneen was written by Frederick William Nicholls Crouch in the year 1835. It was a popular tune during the Civil War. The full lyrics are penned below:

Kathleen, mavourneen, the grey dawn in breaking,
The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill.
The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking,
Kathleen, mavourneen, what! Slumbering still?

Oh, hast thou forgotten how soon we must sever?
Oh, hast thou forgotten this day we must part?
It may be for years, and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?
It may be for years, and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, Kathleen, mavourneen?

Kathleen, mavourneen, awake from thy slumbers,
The blue mountains glow in the sun's golden light.
Ah! Where I the spell that once hung on thy numbers,
Arise in thy beauty, thou star of my night!

Mavourneen, mavourneen, my sad tears are falling,
To think that from Erin and thee I must part!
It may be for years, and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?
It may be for years and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, Kathleen, mavourneen?

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