I wrote this a while ago and have been sitting on it, unsure about posting it. For some reason, I seem to gravitate to stories with strong family or brotherly ties. This story came about after reading another story a while back called, A Question of Doubt by Kate P. This alternative version would not get out of my head until I wrote it down. I tried to get Kate's permission before posting, but I'm guessing she is no longer on the site as that story was posted in 2001. Having never written in this genre before, I hope I have the characterisations correct.

A Betting Man

Joe stared at the man who had brought such misery into his life and he felt his fists clenching in fury. It was the first time he had managed to summon any kind of emotion in days and in a twisted kind of way, it felt somehow good. The personal insults and innuendo he could endure, but this was different. The man's filthy mouth had spewed filthy words about his mother. No matter what, he could not let those go unanswered. He raised his fists and charged towards the man, his eyes a haze of red rage.

Jake seemed to have anticipated the response and was ready for it. Too late, Joe realised he'd been played. Jake had sought to provoke him to the point of raw anger and too late, he saw the Colt being pointed in his direction. What felt like a punch to his guts almost pulled him up, but his body was flooded with adrenaline and he could not have stopped himself if his life depended on it. He barely had a moment to register how funny that thought was. His life did depend on it.

Jake laughed as he watched the young man who was charging towards him suddenly find his feet giving way beneath him. As the boy crumpled to the floor, he felt a surge of satisfaction. The eyes that had held such hatred only moments before now looked at him with panicked confusion. Joe brushed an unsteady hand across his abdomen and felt the sticky trail of warm blood oozing out against his palm. The resulting pain made him gasp and he grabbed at the nearest chair to steady himself. As he fell to the floor, the bloodied handprint he left behind only served to fuel Jake's delight.

"You lose, boy! Your Mama condemned you when she lied about me and you can tell her that when you join her."

Joe lay on the floor and blinked away hot tears of pain. His heart felt like it was being ripped out all over again, but his chest was having trouble drawing breath. The pounding in his head was overwhelming and he felt his eyes slipping closed. The last thing he heard was the sound of laughter as Jake made his way to the door.

"I'm off for a drink or two at the saloon. Maybe a game of poker. A long one." Jake snickered as he edged closer to the door. "Long enough to give me an alibi for whatever happened to you here when somebody attacked you. It was probably one of those hands that just got fired. Blamed you for failing to do your duty by them. Mad as hell, last I saw them."

The laughter drifted off out the door and Joe found himself staring at the flames licking at the grate above his head. He knew enough that if he chose to do nothing, he would indeed soon be meeting his mother. And his father and brothers. The thought brought a wave of relief and he sobbed in a breath at the idea of it. Never in all his life would he have called himself a quitter, but the call of death brought joy, not fear. Suddenly another thought jolted him out of his reverie and it was the one thing that could get him on his feet again. If he lay down and died, Jake would win. He would take everything that Ben Cartwright had worked all his life for. Jake would take the deed for the Ponderosa without a fight and that sickening thought was enough to spur Joe to pull himself up off the floor.

Waves of pain radiated across his abdomen as he hauled himself up and he felt the ominous trickle of blood down his side. He knew he needed to stop the bleeding and he staggered towards the dining table. As he dragged the cloth from the table, the few items sitting on top of it clattered to the floor and smashed. He shrugged out of his jacket and bit at his lip to contain the cry that tried to make him stop moving. The jacket fell to the floor and he sidestepped it as he awkwardly wrapped the cloth around his waist. It took all that he had to pull it tight against the wound and his vision wavered as he did so. He knew that his strength was waning and with a determination that had often been described as cussedness by others, he dragged himself across the floor to his father's desk.

The solid feel of the timber reminded him of his father and another stray tear dribbled down his cheek as he slid into the chair his father had spent so much time sitting in. It felt strange to find himself in his father's place and an odd mix of pride and sadness threatened to unseat him. He had always aspired to one day fill that chair, but not like this. Not at seventeen! His father was supposed to die in his sleep, in his old age. One of his brothers should have filled that chair before him. It should not have fallen to a boy to take his father's seat in such a fashion.

Joe almost smiled at his own thought. For so long he had bucked against being called a boy and longed to be seen as a man. The truth settled over him as he leaned against his father's desk. He was neither a man nor a boy and he knew he would not live long enough to reach that state of real manhood.

Another few tears slid down his cheeks as he pulled a piece of paper from the drawer. Jake would not take his father's legacy and destroy it. If it were the last act of his short life, Joe would make sure of that. He dipped the quill into the ink and found his hand shaking as he began to write the words that he heard spoken in the lawyer's office only a few short weeks ago.

The last will and testimony of Joseph Francis Cartwright.

Only that time it had been the will of Benjamin Cartwright. It had felt surreal as the words flowed across the room and Joe had felt his mind wandering. It wasn't right. His father's legacy should have been divided between his sons. It should not have fallen to a seventeen-year-old. It should never have fallen under the control of Jake and it never would have if Adam or Hoss had been there. It was all their fault! Joe brushed a hand across his face as if to push away the bizarre thought. They had no control over a stagecoach accident. They had no control over the timing of cousin Jake arriving in town to visit with his father, just two days after Roy Coffee had delivered the crushing news. They had no control of the legal system that said he was a minor and needed a family member to take control until he was deemed old enough.

Joe had no idea how the law stood with whether or not he was old enough to have a will of his own, but he did not have time to ride into town and ask the question. He needed to write it down while his hand still worked. At the very least, he needed Roy to know the truth. He dipped the quill again and scratched out the words he so desperately needed to record. By the time he was done, his hand was shaking from the effort and his heart was pounding in his chest. He prayed it would be enough to save his father's ranch from the hands of an evil man. Joe folded the paper and stuffed it into his shirt pocket before pushing himself up from the desk. As he staggered back, the chair toppled behind him. He could not muster the energy to pick it up and he slowly made his way to the door.

Ben urged his horse forward towards the railing outside Roy's office and noted his sons following closely behind him. He dismounted and caught a few odd looks from people as they hurried towards him. He did not have time for any of them and pushed his way through the door instead. Roy almost fell from his chair as his old friend strode towards him and it took a few moments for him to pull himself together and stand up. The two young men who trailed behind their father made him almost cry as he reached a hand of greeting towards the man he had believed was dead.

"Ben? What … I mean … "

Ben reached for the proffered hand and noted the strange look on his friend's face. Roy Coffee was usually pretty unflappable, but at that moment he looked genuinely lost for words. Eventually he licked his lip and shook his head.

"Glad to hear the wire was wrong, but I sure can't explain how they got it so very wrong."

"Got what wrong, Roy? What are you talking about?"

Roy gestured to the three of them and smiled. "The rumour of all your deaths!"

Ben stared at him as Roy continued on. "We received a wire saying the three of you had been killed in a stagecoach accident. Said it went over the cliff and no bodies could be retrieved. I rode out with Joe to check it out and everything added up."

"Joe!" Adam surged forward at the sheriff's words and all eyes turned to him. "Joe thinks we are all dead?" It didn't need to be explained any further what that report would have done to his youngest brother.

"I'm afraid so. It darn near killed him when the sheriff in Placerville confirmed it and gave him the death certificates."

Ben leaned heavily against the desk as he knew only too well what his son would have felt at such news. He needed to reach him and put an end to the heinous lies that had been spread against his family. Finding Jake was secondary for the moment as he needed to see his youngest son and set things right. Almost as if reading their father's thoughts, Adam and Hoss moved towards the door in unison.

"Ben, wait. I'll ride with you." As Roy reached for his hat, he felt a wave of gratitude that he could be there to see the boy's face when his family was restored to him and his world was set back as it should be. After all, he'd been the one to shatter it in the first place for the youngest Cartwright. "There's a few things you need to know that have been happening since … well since you were declared dead. For one thing, your cousin, Jake, has taken control of the Ponderosa."

"What?" The fire in Ben's eyes roared into life and Roy hurried to explain how the law said that Joe wasn't old enough to take the reins and it was fortuitous that Jake had arrived in town to visit around the same time. Roy kicked himself as he considered the co-incidental nature of that visit, knowing what he knew now. At the time, it had seemed like a Godsend, but as Jake had made his dislike of Joe known, it had become more of a nightmare each day.

By the time the four of them galloped into the yard, the day was waning and the light was fading. The chill of snow lingered in the air and Ben pulled his jacket a little closer around his chest as he dismounted. The sight of Cochise wandering untethered in the yard sent a warning shiver up his spine and he raced towards the door of the house. The sight that greeted him had his stomach tying itself into knots. Shattered china lay strewn across the floor, but that wasn't what caught his eye. Adam pushed his way past his father and picked up the familiar green jacket of his younger brother. As he held it up, the blood smeared across it was clear to all of them. Adam clenched his hand around it and frantically looked around for any sign of its owner. Hoss ran for the stairs and began bellowing his brother's name as he bounded up the stairs, two at a time. It was Ben who found the bloodied handprints on the back of the chair and the edge of the hearth and his heart lurched in his chest.

If his son were injured, surely he would have tried to reach help. Suddenly he remembered seeing Cochise in the yard and he ran towards the door. Roy and Adam chased after him as he raced towards the barn, quickly putting the pieces together as they ran. Joe's horse was wandering loose and the young man was nowhere to be seen. He hardly would have left on foot and the question of his whereabouts was soon answered as Ben rounded the corner of the barn.

"Joseph!" The name choked in his throat as Ben stumbled towards the prone body of his son. Adam grabbed at his arm, but Ben shrugged it off.

"Joe." Ben knelt down and hesitated a fraction of a second before reaching for him. He was afraid of what he would find as he gently lifted his son's body into his lap. The sight of so much blood made him sick with fear, but his fingers found a pulse under the buttons of his son's shirt. "Oh, thank God," he whispered as he ran a hand across the face he had longed to see for weeks.

"I'll get Paul!" Roy was already running for his horse as he shouted over his shoulder.

Time seemed to slow as Ben's hand hovered over his son's face. The skin was chilled and his lips were almost blue.

"We need to get him inside, Pa." Adam watched the distress spread across his father's face and moved to lift his brother off the ground. His words seemed to snap his father out of his reverie and Ben nodded mutely. He didn't want to relinquish his grip on his son, but he knew he could not stand up from where he was. As Adam reached his arms around his brother, he was shocked at how light he felt. Joe was never one to eat like his brother Hoss, but he had a healthy appetite and a burning youthful energy that kept his body in trim. Something had changed while they had been gone and his little brother felt positively scrawny. He pushed that concern aside as he carried Joe into the house and headed for his room. Somewhere ahead of him, Hoss had already seen what was happening and moved to shift the blankets aside on Joe's bed.

Once Adam had his brother settled, his father brushed him aside as he sat down on the bed. He ran his fingers lightly over the makeshift bandage around his son's waist and swallowed a breath. Depending on where the injury was would determine if his son would live or die. A gut shot was almost always fatal. He could not believe that God would be so cruel as to bring them all home, only to lose their youngest moments after arriving. He debated removing the bandage and checking the injury for himself, but something told him to leave it be. If there was a bullet lodged in his son, he could do nothing to remove it from such a vulnerable position. He would simply have to wait for Paul to arrive. In the meantime, Joe's body was chilled to the core and he reached for the blankets that had been pushed aside. As he pulled them across, Adam reached out a hand to help. Both of them felt completely helpless and it would be another long stretch before they heard horses in the yard below. Hoss had been keeping a watch out and he raced up the stairs to alert them with the doctor close on his heels.

As Paul Martin stepped into the room he was struggling to contain his emotions at seeing his old friend alive and well. He brushed the tears aside and focused on the more important need. He had seen Joe many times in recent weeks as both he and Roy had made a point of checking on the youngster, but the sight before him frightened him. The boy looked grey from blood loss and his features reflected the pain of his injury, even in sleep. Paul gently urged the men to leave the room while he rolled up his sleeves and set to work. It was Hoss who steered his father downstairs while Adam headed for the kitchen to set a pot of coffee to boil. He wondered where Hop Sing was and meant to ask Roy when he made his way back to the great room.

Ben sank into his chair and rubbed a hand through his hair. "Roy … just what has been going on around here?"

"First things first, Ben. Where have the three of you been? What were you doing on a stage from Placerville when you went to Carson City on horseback? And who would have anything to gain from faking your deaths?"

Ben lifted his face to look at each of his sons. They had shared a miserable time over the last six weeks, but it seemed that Joe may have endured even more. He clenched his fist as he considered his words carefully. It would not do to allow his temper to run away with him as he began to recount the saga.

"We were never on that stage, Roy. And it seems that my dear cousin, Jake, had a lot to gain from our deaths. At first, I couldn't figure why he would leave Joe out of the picture, but it's beginning to make sense. He needed a way in to legally gaining control of the Ponderosa and Joe's age was the key he needed. He hired some men to lay a trap for us in Carson City. We haven't been anywhere near Placerville, but somehow he managed to set things so that folks believed we were on that stage. I guess money talks."

The bitter edge to his father's voice set Adam shifting in his chair. He stood up and began to pace across the room, suddenly needing to use up some energy. As he approached his father's desk, he noted the chair behind it lay on the floor. It seemed such an incongruous image for his father's meticulously kept desk and he hurried to set it right. As he leaned towards the desk, he spotted the bloodied streaks against the timber and he lurched forward. Why would Joe have wasted time sitting at his father's desk? As he looked closer, he saw that the quill was no longer in its holder and it wasn't until he felt his father's hand on his shoulder that he realised he was asking aloud. Before anybody could come up with an answer, they heard Paul calling them all back upstairs. The mystery of the desk was pushed aside for the time being.

The first thing Ben saw when he entered his son's room was the amount of blood still on Paul's hand as he washed up. Joe's blood. He looked towards the bed and almost felt his knees buckle as he considered how very pale his son looked. Pale and still. Neither words were descriptions that applied to his boy and Ben slowly descended to sit beside the bed. He reached for his son's hand and held it lightly in his own, almost as though he thought it might break if he squeezed too hard. He reached out a hand to brush away a stray curl and tried to contain the emotions that spiraled up from his insides.

Paul finished cleaning his arms and began wiping himself dry as he walked back towards the bed. "The bullet went straight through his side. He's lucky it was so cold out there or he would have bled to death before I got to him."

"Lucky! My son was lying in the barn for who knows how long, with a bullet wound and you say he was lucky!"

Paul shrugged off the challenge, knowing the cause of it and the heart of the man speaking. He continued on as if nothing had been said.

"His condition is still grave. What concerns me most is that he might not have the fight left in him to make his way back."

"Joe ain't never been a coward!" Hoss inched closer to his brother as he spoke.

Paul raised a hand and shook his head. "I didn't mean that, Hoss. Little Joe was born a fighter and I've never seen him act cowardly either." He rubbed a hand across his face before continuing. He needed to make them understand if they wanted to save him. "When word came through, I came with Roy to break the news to Joe about the three of you. The grief nearly crushed him, but the one thing that kept him on his feet was making you proud of him. Ben, he was determined to carry on your legacy and it was the crutch he needed to keep him walking through those dark days."

Ben closed his eyes as he considered what such news would have done to his youngest son. He was barely listening as the doctor continued.

"When Jake turned up and it seemed that he would take away the last thing Joe had left, it almost broke him. Jake pushed Hop Sing out of the house and he seemed to go out of his way to antagonise Joe. We couldn't figure the reason for it, but that boy's spirit has taken a beating and a half. There were some days when I half expected to hear that Joe had ridden off into the mountains and never come back. Like one day we'd find a body somewhere."

Adam pushed his way forward at the doctor's last comment, anger blazing in his eyes." You mean you thought Joe would kill himself! I can't believe he could ever be driven that far. Especially not after that whole episode with Seth, where he and Pa talked about the sanctity of life and fighting to the end! He just wouldn't!"

Roy moved over to stand beside the doctor and held out a conciliatory hand towards Adam. "Now, Adam, Paul isn't talking out of turn. We both saw it. Little Joe was so lost in grief that he weren't himself. You can see how much weight he's lost. If he thought he was dying, it may just have seemed like a Godsend to him to be reunited with his entire family."

Ben flinched at the truth of the words. Joe was the only one of his sons who had had every member of his family around him together for at least part of his life and to lose all of them at once would have crippled him.

"We need to get through to him that we are all here! He needs to know he has every reason to live and not give up."

Paul nodded in agreement. "That's what I was getting at. You need to get through to him that you are with him. Pull him back from wherever he is now." The doctor wasn't sure it would be enough, but he was sure that if anybody could reach him, they could.

It was Adam who suddenly remembered his discovery at his father's desk and he glanced around the room, searching for his brother's shirt. He found it, discarded on the floor behind the bed and he reached to pick up. The faint smell of copper and the dark bloodstain across it made his stomach lurch as he slowly reached into the pockets. He finally found the piece of paper that was shoved in there and he pulled it out with trembling fingers. As he scanned over the contents, he could not ignore the blood that also smeared the page. It took a moment to control his breathing enough to read out aloud, but once he did, he found his anger rising along with his volume.

"The last will and testimony of Joseph Francis Cartwright. I leave everything I own to Hop Sing. I was shot by Jake Cartwright while I was unarmed." Joe's signature, along with the date, was scrawled across the bottom of the page and smudges of blood mingled with the ink as some kind of macabre proof to a crime. Adam handed the page to Roy while Hoss held a hand on his father's shoulder. Ben bristled with anger as he heard his son's own words condemn his relative for attempted murder. At least now the final piece of the puzzle had been revealed. He felt his fists clench at the idea his son had felt he needed to write a will and he once again reached across to grasp at the fragile hand.

"Joseph, I know you can hear me. Jake will be held to account and you will receive justice. I promise you, son. You need to come back to us now. Please, Joe."

Ben was oblivious as Roy left the room with Joe's letter, but both Adam and Hoss were only a few paces behind him. "We're coming with you, Roy."

The sheriff looked at the two brothers and scratched at his chin. He had a fair idea of where to find Jake Cartwright and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted either of them with him when he did. The look on their faces told him that their cousin may not live long enough to make it across to the town jail. Not that he blamed them, but the law was the law and the last thing he wanted to be doing was arresting one or both of them. Finally he decided that if he said they could not accompany him, they would probably just follow him anyway. At least this way he had an element of control.

"All right. But you two follow my instructions! I ain't having no lynching tonight, you hear?"

"Understood, Roy, but Hoss and I aren't about to let dear cousin Jake get away either."

Adam went back to explain to his father where they were going before hurrying down to meet Roy and Hoss in the yard. He nodded as he saw that Hoss had already taken Cochise into his stall by the time he arrived.

Paul found his way down to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He was exhausted, but he would not leave until he had a clearer idea if his patient would pull through. His mind was churning as he considered what the family had endured over the last two months. He had been a frequent guest in their home over the years and had wondered if he would ever hear laughter grace the rooms again. For now, he would settle for hearing Little Joe's voice once again.

He must have slipped into sleep on the couch as he was suddenly jolted awake by the door swinging open and a rant full of Chinese words that he could only guess at by the tone of voice.

"Where Mista Cartlight? Where honorable sons?"

Paul raised himself up onto one elbow and pointed upstairs. He smiled as he watched Hop Sing run up the stairs and knew that the family was one step closer to being put back together.

Roy stopped outside the saloon doors and pointed towards the two men behind him. "You mind me, you hear?"

Adam stared through the doorway and frowned. "No promises, Roy."

The sheriff shook his head and pushed his way through the doors anyway. He hoped this would end smoothly, but there was no telling with emotions running so high. As the trio walked into the saloon, it seemed as if the volume in the place suddenly dropped to a whisper. Men turned to stare at the two brothers that the town had so recently held a memorial service for. Several stood up to extend hands of greeting, but neither man had any interest in being friendly. As they continued through the tables, one man at the back of the saloon seemed to have turned to stone. All eyes turned as Roy moved towards where Jake Cartwright sat, hand half way to his mouth with a tankard of beer. His face broke out in a cold sweat as the three men surrounded his seat and he edged one hand towards his holster.

"Just give me a reason to go for my gun," Adam stared the man down, cold fire burning in his eyes. Jake hastily moved his hand back to the table and eased his beer down onto the table in front of him.

"Easy now there, cousin. Ain't no reason to get all antsy."

"As far as I'm concerned, you are no relative of mine. And if my brother dies, I'll be a lot more than antsy!" Adam leaned close enough to smell the alcohol on his cousin's breath and he watched as the man's gaze slid away from him.

"Now, Adam, you just let me handle this," Roy raised a hand to settle the angry man across from him and prayed that Adam's usual cool head would prevail. Jake had paled considerably to hear that Joe wasn't yet dead and he knew without a doubt, that he was in dire trouble. His eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape route when he felt two hands clamp down on his shoulders. While focusing all his attention on Adam, he had forgotten about Hoss. By the time the sheriff had his man safely ensconced in his jail cell, he was eager to dismiss the two young men and send them home to be with their brother.

"Joe needs you and so does your pa. Let me handle things at this end and you just get that young fella of yours back on his feet."

It was a long and sober ride back to the Ponderosa as the two brothers considered what had happened in their absence. There were few words needed to explain to the other what they were both feeling and the burden of guilt settled heavily on them both. If they had not allowed Jake and his men to dupe them in Carson City, Joe would not be fighting for his life.

Fighting.

Was he really fighting? The idea that Joe could be so broken that he would not put up a fight was even more terrifying than the sight of Joe so deathly still on the floor of the barn.

Adam leaned into his horse's neck and spurred the animal on. They had lost enough time already, but it felt somehow comforting to know that Jake was locked up in Roy's jail and would be brought to trial. He just prayed it did not turn out to be a murder trial.

Ben felt his eyelids growing heavy and he struggled to force his eyes open. It had been a long ride back from Carson City and they had barely stopped to rest the horses, let alone rest themselves. Once Jake had revealed his plan to leave them at the mercy of his men and ride out for another unknown purpose, it had become clear they needed to escape or they would die. Jake had chosen his men for their ruthlessness and not for their brains. Thankfully it was Adam's quick thinking that had given them the out to get loose and get away. He had debated sending a wire to Roy, but had decided against it, simply because he didn't want to give Jake any inkling that his plot was unraveling.

Suddenly that plan seemed to crumble before his eyes as he stared at his youngest son's face. Perhaps if he had warned Roy, Joe would have been safe. Sweat slicked his hair to his forehead and the pain of his injury was clearly etched across his features. Ben slowly ran a finger through the curls he had often chided his son about. All of a sudden, the length of his hair seemed like such a trivial thing to argue over.

Paul had told them to talk and let Joe know they were there, but each time he began to speak, he felt a little foolish. The room seemed to swallow his words and his mind told him that his son was unconscious and could not hear him anyway. Somehow, his heart told him otherwise.

"Joe, I need you to hear me son. I know why Jake targeted you and I'm so sorry I ever gave him grounds to come after you. Forgive me, Joe for failing to protect you."

"Why?"

Ben startled at the voice behind him as he had been so lost in memories that he had forgotten the door was open. He swiveled in the seat to see both of his sons standing in the doorway. Adam was looking intently at him and the question burned in his eyes. As much as he wanted to protect his sons from the pain the story would invoke, he knew he owed it to them.

"Revenge." Ben turned back to watch his sleeping son and tried to swallow the anger that threatened to choke him.

"Revenge? Jake had never even met Joe!" Adam moved closer to his father and shook his head in confusion. The man wasn't making any sense and he wondered if it was fatigue muddling his mind.

Ben waved a hand across the room. "Sit down. Both of you."

Hoss pulled a chair across while Adam slipped around to the far side of Joe's bed and eased himself down. He reached out a hand to take hold of his brother's and felt sick at how lifeless and weak it felt in his grasp. That same hand had swung punches at him and clapped him on the back. It had fired off countless rounds as Joe practiced his draw. It had lovingly rubbed down Cochise's coat after a fast ride home. It had reached out to him when Joe was a toddler and trying to walk from the couch to the table.

"You know that Joe was born early." Both brothers nodded at him while not quite understanding what one thing had to do with another. It was an unspoken part of their family history that they had nearly lost their little brother before either of them even got to meet him. Somehow the details had been buried and they had been content in the knowledge that Little Joe had indeed survived and thrived.

"Jake was here in Virginia City when Joe was born."

Adam raised an eyebrow in surprise. He was old enough at twelve to recall the details of that day. He remembered the fear that had lingered in the air like some kind of fog and then their relief to hear the wail of a living child. Hop Sing had kept him and Hoss busy for hours, but he knew that something was very wrong. He'd seen early calves succumb to the cold because they were too small and weak and he wondered why Marie's baby was coming so early.

"Jake came here and decided he wanted Marie for himself. When she spurned his advances, he tried to force himself on her." Ben swallowed hard as he recalled seeing his wife in the hands of his cousin. "She fought him off, but he threw her to the floor. The attack sent her into labour and we didn't know if the baby had been harmed in any way. The doctor warned us that the baby would be born with lungs that were not fully developed and this could cause problems. He told us to prepare ourselves to bury our child."

Almost unconsciously, Ben found himself reaching once again for his son's hands as the memories of his tiny newborn son crowded into his head. The fear of losing him had been almost unbearable and it still arose from time to time in his nightmares.

"The doc didn't count on our Joe though!" Hoss smiled at his own comment. "He's too ornery to be told to give up! Always has been."

Ben chuckled at the description and nodded. "That's one way to describe him, but yes, he was a fighter and he has never backed away from anything in his life."

"Which is why he won't quit now, Pa." Adam's eyes never left his brother's face, as if he could somehow will the words to be true.

Suddenly Ben sobered as he remembered something else. "I told Jake that if we lost our child, I would kill him myself!"

"What happened to him, Pa? He's never been back here since."

Ben rubbed a hand across his jaw as he considered the question. "He spent some time in prison. It was our testimony that put him there and his parting shot from the courtroom was that one day he would get his revenge."

Hoss shook his head in confusion as he thought about the length of time the man had waited. "So why take seventeen years to get back at ya? Don't make much sense to take that long, ifn he was gonna do anything. I mean, even if … even if he was waiting 'til after Marie … " Hoss swallowed as he could see the pain in his father's eyes. "It's still been an awfully long time since Marie died."

Ben nodded at the question. He'd asked it already and thought he knew the answer. "He needed Joe to be the right age. Old enough to inherit, but not old enough to take control of the Ponderosa."

Adam sucked in a sharp breath as he realised the truth of his father's words. The man who had suckered them in Carson City had been stewing on his plot for years. Years which had soured his heart and cemented his plans. Years to perfect the situation he needed to wreak havoc on the Cartwright patriarch and the son he held responsible.

Suddenly Adam felt movement against his hand and he looked over to see Joe's fingers trying to curl around his. He squeezed back and was rewarded with his brother struggling to open his eyes. He leaned forward and rubbed his other hand against Joe's cheek.

"That's it, little brother. Come on. You can do it."

Joe frowned as he heard the voice he had longed to hear for weeks. His mind was playing tricks again and he sank back against the pillow. It was just another dream that turned into a nightmare when he woke up. For some reason the pain that had taken up permanent residence in his chest had shifted places into his gut, but whatever was happening, he refused to listen.

"Joseph, open your eyes."

"C'mon Little Joe! Time to git outta bed!"

Now he knew he was dreaming as first Pa and then Hoss joined in the chorus of voices. If that was so, he didn't want the dream to end. He didn't want the nightmare that relentlessly came each new dawn to encroach on the feeling of warmth that wrapped around him.

"You're not real. Leave me alone." The words were only a whisper and Adam leaned closer, unsure if he had heard correctly.

"Joe, we are really here. It's not a trick."

The real Adam didn't ever lie to him, but his dream Adam just might. After all, if this was a dream then who said the same rules applied? It was not worth the cost of crawling out of the dream to face the cruelty again. Adam had sworn to protect him, but somehow his big brother had miscalculated. He couldn't even protect himself when he climbed aboard that stagecoach.

"You said you could fight off all my storms. You lied."

Adam stared at his brother as a tear leaked from under Joe's eyelash. A memory from many years ago welled up in his mind and he found his chest constricting. Five-year-old Joe had been terrified of a late summer storm and found refuge in his older brother's lap. Adam had wrapped his arms around his scrawny kid brother and whispered in his ear until he fell asleep. Those words came back to bite him as Joe reminded him of the story he'd spun. He had painted himself as a knight from King Arthur's realm and his sword held the power to fight off storms. He had convinced Joe that he would fight off anything that would cause his little brother nightmares in the dark.

He would never be able to explain what prompted his actions, except that it had often worked a long time ago. Adam lay down on the bed beside his brother and gently eased his arms around him. As he pulled Joe's head onto his chest and began to whisper the same story into his brother's ear, he felt Joe's breathing quicken.

"Adam?" The whisper held all the hope and fear that Joe had been trying to climb over. His heart was racing as he considered the solid chest beneath his cheek and the heartbeat that mirrored his own. The scent of his brother's cologne mingled with the smell of stale sweat and horse and he shifted slightly. Tears dribbled down his cheeks as he breathed in and his hand grasped hold of the shirt underneath his head.

"Yeah, Joe. I'm right here."

As Joe finally managed to force his eyes open, he found himself staring at the three faces he had thought he would never see again. His voice froze in his throat as his mind whirled in confusion. All the words he had wanted to say, the things he had played over and over in his mind, mingled together in a confused haze and his eyes slid closed again.

"Joe," Ben reached a shaky hand out to his son. He brushed his fingers against his cheek and felt the trace of tears. "Wake up, son."

Hoss towered over his father's shoulder, desperate to hear his brother's voice again.

Adam found his fingers moving of their own accord as they twisted into his brother's curls. "Joe, come on now. I need you to help me with my sword. There's dragons out there." He found himself smiling as he spoke as the memory of his seven-year-old brother came to mind. Joe had just discovered the concept of dragons from Hop Sing and seemed to find them lurking all over the Ponderosa. He would frequently holler for Adam to come and help him fight them off before they could swoop out of the sky and eat his family.

"Already slayed my dragon."

Adam smiled as he caught the whispered words. "Yeah, little brother. I reckon you have."

Roy leaned against the hitching rail and smiled at the sight before him. He sipped at his coffee and watched his friend, who had eyes only for his sons. Joe sat out on the porch of the ranch house, playing checkers with Hoss. For the first time in two months, he saw a smile grace Joe's face as Adam picked at his guitar and hummed something. Roy had ridden out to deliver the news that a magistrate would be in town in a couple of weeks to deal with Jake's attempted murder charge as well as the kidnapping and extortion charges. It would be sufficient time to bring in the men that had been picked up in Carson City and see that justice was done. He had feared it would not be enough to restore all that had been stolen from his friend and his family. As he watched Ben's face relax into a smile, he reconsidered his earlier judgement. As long as the four of them were together, they could weather anything. Adam had made some remark about Joe slaying dragons that he hadn't quite understood, but he caught the gist of it. If he were a betting man, he'd bet on a Cartwright against a dragon any day of the week.