Man Named Jacob

A Man Named Jacob

Not even the most generous person would have called Watson’s Crossing a town. The three rundown buildings standing near the crossroads of the two mountain trails offered little in the way of comfort. One building had a small sign proclaiming it as a general store; the other two were a stable and what passed as a saloon. The only reason Watson’s Crossing existed was that travelers in the mountains found it to be a handy spot to pick up some supplies or take a break during their journey. No one stayed in Watson’s Crossing any longer than absolutely necessary.

Joe Cartwright stopped his horse in front of the store. He didn’t often visit Watson’s Crossing but that was by choice. He was less than fond of the man who ran the small collection of businesses. Joe thought Newly Watson was a mean-spirited, crude man. He avoided the ex-mountain man as much as possible. But Joe was tired of eating trail food, and he had almost another day’s ride before he reached home. He forced himself to make a brief stop to pick up some food. Anything was better than another meal of beans on the trail. As Joe walked into the store, he looked around. An old man sat on a bench by the far wall, whittling a stick. Joe ignored him as he walked to the back of the store where the wall was lined with shelves. Small sacks of flour, sugar and other goods sat on the shelves, along with several baskets of potatoes. Standing behind a poorly built counter near the shelves was Newly Watson, a man with long, unkempt hair and a scraggly beard. He wore a striped shirt, stained with dirt and grease. Watson gave Joe what he thought was a smile. Joe thought he looked like a wolf bearing its teeth.

“Joe Cartwright!” exclaimed Watson. “What brings you up to this part of the country?”

“Hello, Watson,” Joe replied briefly. “Just wanted to pick up some fresh meat and a potato or two. Something to tide me over until I get home.”

“Sure, Joe,” Watson said in a pleasant tone. “Got some nice ham and bacon. We butchered some pigs awhile back, and the meat is smoked just right.”

“Fine,” Joe replied. “I’ll take a couple of slices of ham and two potatoes.”

“You been up to where they’re building the new fort?” asked Watson as he put two potatoes on the counter.

“Yes,” Joe said shortly.

Watson pulled a big hunk of ham wrapped in a cheese cloth from under the counter and began slicing the meat. “Cartwrights going to supply the lumber for the fort?” he asked as he sliced.

“Maybe,” Joe said. “We’re talking to the Army.”

“That new fort will bring a lot of business in,” Watson said as he began wrapping Joe’s purchases. “I’m thinking of catching and breaking some horses myself. The Army will need remounts. Could make a pretty penny off of them.”

Nodding, Joe reached into his jacket. “How much do I owe you?” he asked. Before Watson could answer, the door at the front of the store opened and Joe turned to look at the man who entered. The man was obviously an Indian; his red-tinged skin and coal black hair left no doubt about his race. The man was tall, just over six feet, and well proportioned. His black hair hung down to his broad shoulders. His print shirt narrowed to a small waist. The man wore dark blue pants over his powerfully built legs, and he had a pair of tall black boots on his feet. A beaded belt cinched the man’s waist, and a dark bandanna circled his head. Joe didn’t often think of men as good looking, but he thought the man who walked in was handsome. His dark eyes had a soulful look, and his face was smooth and even featured. Joe figured the man was in his early thirties, although his age was hard to judge.

“What do you want?” Watson growled at the man.

“I would like to buy some supplies,” the man answered in perfect English.

“Don’t trade with Indians,” Watson said gruffly. “I got all the beads and blankets I can use.”

“I don’t want to trade,” the man replied evenly. “I can pay.” He reached into his pant’s pocket and pulled out a small gold nugget. “This should be more than cover the cost of some flour, sugar, coffee and salt.”

Watson looked at the nugget briefly, then shook his head. “Probably took that off some white man you scalped,” Watson muttered. “Don’t do business with Indians,” he repeated a bit louder.

“Well, perhaps you’d do business with my white side,” the man said with a smile. “I’m only half Indian.”

“A breed!” Watson spat out the words. “Even worse! Get out of here, you trash. I don’t do business with people like you.”

The man looked Watson in the eye. His face showed no emotion. He simply stared at Watson. Then a look of pity and regret crossed the man’s face. “I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he said politely. He returned the nugget to his pocket, turned and walked out.

“You showed him,” the man on the bench shouted with a laugh.

“You bet,” Watson said with a grin. “Murdering savages think they can just waltz in here and do business. Well, I sure showed him that he was dead wrong.”

Joe had stood silent during the whole incident, but his body was tense. He could feel the anger building inside him.

“There was no need to treat him like that,” Joe said, his anger showing in his voice.

“Boy, this is my place,” Watson replied in a huff. “I can do whatever I want.”

“Fine,” replied Joe. “Then you can sell me some flour, sugar, salt, coffee, and potatoes. And throw in a slab of bacon.”

“What you figure to do with all those supplies?” Watson asked suspiciously. “I thought you wanted just enough to get you home.”

“What I do with what I buy is MY business,” Joe replied in a cold voice.

“You don’t figure to give them to that half-breed, do you?” Watson asked.

“Just give me what I asked for,” Joe demanded. Watson stood behind the counter looking at Joe thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t want me to spread the word that you refused to do business with a Cartwright, would you?” Joe continued.

Watson understood the implied threat well enough. With a shrug, he pulled a sack from behind the counter and filled it quickly with the items Joe had requested. Joe pulled some money out of the pocket of his jacket. He counted out a few bills and some coins, then slapped them on the counter. “That should cover it,” Joe said. He picked up the sack and the small package he had purchased when he first arrived. Without another word, Joe turned on his heels and walked out of the store. Walking into the bright sun, Joe stopped looked around. He saw the Indian standing near the stable, watering three horses. A woman with long black hair, wearing a patterned shirt and a long black skirt, was standing next to him. Joe could see some soft leather boots on her legs. Covering the ground quickly, Joe walked over to the couple. He wanted to be sure they didn’t leave before he reached them.

“Here’s your supplies,” Joe said as he neared the two Indians. He held the sack toward the man.

The man turned and looked at Joe, his face showing his surprise. “I thought they didn’t sell to Indians here,” he said.

“They changed their minds,” Joe said with a grin.

Looking at the sack in Joe’s hand, the man hesitated for a moment. Then, with a nod, he took the sack and handed it to the woman next to him. The woman smiled at Joe and began loading the supplies into some large sacks slung over one of the horses, a brown mare which was obviously being used as a pack animal.

“Thank you,” the man said to Joe, his face breaking into a grin. “I really appreciate it. We were getting low on just about everything.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out the nugget. He handed it to Joe. “Thank you,” he said again.

Joe thought quickly. He knew most Indians were proud and hated charity. But the nugget was worth far more than the few dollars Joe spent on the supplies. And he had little money left to try and give the man some kind of change.

“No charge,” Joe said, putting up his hand. “Just consider this an apology for what Watson said in there.”

The Indian studied Joe for a minute. Finally, he nodded. “Thank you again,” he said, putting the nugget back in his pocket. The man stuck out his hand. “Jacob Red Feather,” he said introducing himself.

“Joe Cartwright,” said Joe, returning the introduction as he shook the man’s hand.

“This is my wife, Sarah,” Jacob continued, introducing the woman who stood next to the horses.

“Ma’am” Joe said, tipping his hat slightly. The woman smiled back at him. “Where are you headed?” Joe asked, turning back to Jacob.

“We’re looking to buy some land,” Jacob replied. “I want to start a little ranch. Raise horses, and maybe a few head of cattle.”

Now it was Joe’s turn to look surprised. “A ranch?” he said. “Don’t know many Indians interested in ranching.”

“My husband is an unusual man,” Sarah said with a grin.

“I’ll say,” Joe answered, smiling at her. “You should have seen him in there. Watson called him…well, he wasn’t very nice to him. And he just walked out. I would have thrown a fit.”

“They were just words,” Jacob said with a shrug. “I learned a long time ago that words can only hurt you if you let them. Words have no sting unless you choose to let them have it. I choose to ignore such words.”

Shaking his head, Joe admitted, “If I had been insulted like that, I would have punched Watson right in the mouth.”

“And what would that have accomplished?” asked Jacob. “No, men like that deserve only pity. I know who I am and I don’t need others to tell me what I’m worth. I don’t bother with what others think of me.” Jacob stopped and smiled at Sarah. “With one important exception,” he added.

“You ARE an unusual man,” said Joe, shaking his head. He glanced up at the sky. He could tell by the sun that it was early afternoon. “Well, I’d better get on my way. I’ve got a long ride home.”

Jacob stuck out his hand again. “Thank you, my friend,” he said with a smile. “I’ll pay you back someday.”

“Sure,” Joe mumbled with an embarrassed air as he shook Jacob’s hand. Joe tipped his hat slightly again toward Sarah. “Good luck to you,” he said. Then Joe turned and walked back to his horse. He stuck the small package of ham and potatoes for his dinner in the saddle bag, then mounted his horse. He waved at Jacob and Sarah, then gently kicked his horse into a trot. Riding out of the mountains and into a wide plain, Joe looked at the sun, trying to judge the time. He figured he could stop to eat late in the day, and still make it home before midnight. He’d miss Hop Sing’s dinner, but he could surely be home in time to get a couple of hours sleep in his own bed. After being away from home almost a week, Joe was looking forward to a soft bed and one of Hop Sing’s breakfasts. His thoughts on home and his own bed, Joe wasn’t really paying attention as he rode. That’s why he was so surprised to hear the whoop of an Indian war cry. Joe stopped his horse and quickly looked around. He saw four Indians riding toward him, yelling and pointing in his direction. Joe didn’t wait to see if the Indians were wearing paint. He kicked his horse into a gallop and started across the plain at a dead run. He was confident his pinto could outrun any horse those Indians had. He thought they would chase him for awhile and then give up. Joe’s thinking would have been right except for one thing: he hadn’t figured on gopher holes in the ground ahead. He was pulling ahead of the screaming Indians when his pinto tripped. Neighing wildly as it lost it’s footing, Joe’s horse lurched to the side. Tossed out of the saddle, Joe hit the ground with a thud. He rolled a few feet down a small gully, stopping only when his body hit a large boulder.

Stunned by the fall, Joe simply laid on the ground for several minutes. He gasped for air, trying to recover the breath that the fall had knocked out of him. Joe could hear the pounding of approaching horses and he tried to will his body to move. But his arms and legs didn’t seem to want to work. Joe struggled again to move and finally got his legs to obey. He got as far as pulling himself to his knees when four horses skidded to a stop near him. Joe felt a hand grab his arm and then he was roughly slammed into the boulder. Stunned again and still breathing hard, Joe tried to catch his breath once more. He sitting on the ground, his legs bent underneath him and his right shoulder resting against the rock. He slowly turned his head to look over his left shoulder.

Four Indians stood over him, all of them even younger than Joe’s 22 years. He guessed they were about 17 or 18. Three held spears while the fourth had an old navy colt, a gun that looked older than it’s owner. One of the young Indians ran forward and pulled the pistol from Joe’s gunbelt. Then he rushed back to join the others, aiming his new prize directly at Joe.

“What should we do with him?” one of the Indians asked.

The others looked at each other uncertainly. Then the Indian with Joe’s gun lifted it a few inches. “Let’s kill him!” the young man shouted.

“No, wait,” said one of the young braves, grabbing his companion’s arm. “Remember the stories around the campfire? We should whip him or cut him first.”

Staring at his captors, Joe realized the young braves had no idea what they were going to do with him. But this did not make them any less deadly. Joe froze, unwilling to make any movement that might cause them to fire the pistols they held.

“Maybe we should just let him go,” one of the Indians said, his voice quivering.

“Coward!” replied another young brave, spitting out the word. “You’ll never be a man.”

Pulling his knife from his belt, the Indian with the old colt boasted, “I’ll show you how to deal with a captive.” As he took a step forward, two shots filled the air. The bullets hit the ground just in front of the young Indian, startling the young brave as well as his companions. Looking quickly over his shoulder toward the direction from which the shots had come, Joe saw Jacob standing on the top of the gully. He was holding a rifle at his side, a rifle that was pointed directly at the young men below him.

“What are you doing?” Jacob asked in a pleasant voice. He seemed unconcerned about the scene below him.

Looking at each other, the young Indians seemed unsure how to answer. Then the one with the knife took a step up the hill. “We’ve captured this white man,” he said boldly. “Now we are going to torture and kill him.”

“I see,” Jacob replied evenly. “I assume you have permission from your chief to be on the warpath.”

Shifting their feet nervously, the young braves looked down.

“I don’t think your chief would be too happy with you for starting a war,” Jacob continued. “If you harm this man, that’s what will happen. The soldiers will come after you. There will be much fighting and many could die.”

Looking even more nervous and uncertain than ever, the young braves glanced at each other anxiously.

“But we captured this man,” one of them protested. “We must spill his blood to show we are worthy of being called men.”

“You captured him,” Jacob agreed. “But you don’t have to spill his blood. You can count coup.”

“What’s that?” asked one of the young men with a frown.

“It’s something my people do,” answered Jacob. “A man shows his bravery by simply touching his enemy and then riding away. Later, around the campfire, he can tell the story of how he came close enough to touch his enemy,” Jacob smiled wryly. “Many young women are impressed by this act of bravery, while they are sickened by the thought of blood being spilled.”

The four Indians looked at each other. Jacob’s comment about the women seemed to convince them. One mumbled something and the others nodded. They turned and walked to Joe. Joe shrank back against the rock, uncertain about what the young men intended to do. Jacob kept his rifle carefully aimed at the young men, but made no move to stop them. Each of the Indians walked over to Joe. One by one, they touched him, two of them roughly pushing him against the rock. Joe saw the young Indian with his pistol stick the gun into his belt. Then the braves turned and walked back to their horses. Both Joe and Jacob watched them carefully as they mounted and rode away. Letting out a sigh of relief, Joe relaxed his body against the rock. He looked up when he saw a shadow falling across his face. Jacob stood over him smiling. “Are you all right, my friend?” Jacob asked.

“I am now,” Joe answered, with a shaky smile. “Thank you.”

Jacob waved away Joe’s thanks. “It was nothing,” he said. “They are just boys trying to prove they are men.”

“For awhile, it looked like they were going to prove it by killing me,” Joe said. “I guess I’m going to be the topic of conversation around their campfire tonight.”

“I don’t think this is going to turn out exactly like they think,” said Jacob with a chuckle. “Once their fathers hear what they’ve done, I’ll bet they’ll be chopping wood, and cleaning horses, and doing every miserable job in the camp for a month.”

“Sounds like something my Pa would do to me,” Joe said with a grin.

Jacob nodded. “Most fathers are the same everywhere,” he agreed. “Those boys will be punished for acting so foolishly.”

Moving slowly, Joe started to get to his feet. “Thanks again,” he said. Joe took a step, but, suddenly, the ground seemed to sway under his feet. Joe reeled as a wave of dizziness swept over him. He started to put out his arm to steady himself, and yelped in pain as he tried to move his shoulder. Joe sank back to the ground, wincing as he took a deep breath. He suddenly realized his side hurt as he tried to breathe.

“Are you all right?” Jacob asked anxiously. “You took quite a fall.”

For a minute, Joe said nothing. He was trying to get the rocks and ground to stop spinning around him. “Just give me a minute,” Joe mumbled. He winced again as he tried to move his arm.

“Here, let me see,” Jacob said, kneeling next to Joe. He turned Joe’s head toward him, and noted the bruise on the side of Joe’s face. Gently, he felt Joe’s right shoulder, then ran his hands down Joe’s ribs. Despite Jacob’s gentle touch, Joe grunted in pain.

“I don’t think anything’s broken,” Jacob said. “But your shoulder is dislocated. And you probably have some pretty nasty bruises.” Lost in a sea of misery, Joe didn’t answer. He felt cold and sweaty at the same time. He closed his eyes, trying to stave off the blackness he felt slowly descending upon him.

“You just sit tight,” Joe heard Jacob say. “Don’t move. I’m going to get Sarah. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Joe thought he nodded but he wasn’t sure. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Jacob didn’t have to worry about Joe moving. Moving was the last thing on Joe’s mind. As he sat on the hard ground, Joe kept his eyes closed. Closing his eyes seemed to ease the dizziness but also seemed to thicken the fogginess Joe felt in his head. Joe wasn’t sure how much time passed before Jacob returned. He was concentrating on trying to stay awake and trying to fend off the pain that seemed to be radiating from his shoulder. He heard some sounds but didn’t try to open his eyes. Then Joe felt the soft touch of a hand on his face and shoulder.

“We should set his shoulder right away,” Joe heard a woman’s voice say. It seemed to be coming from far away. “The longer it stays like this, the worse it will hurt.”

Two strong hands took a firm hold on Joe’s right arm, and a foot rested itself on his shoulder. Joe felt two other, gentler hands wrapping themselves around his body. Suddenly his right arm was jerked, and Joe felt a sharp, agonizing pain. He heard a scream but didn’t realize it was coming from him. Then the blackness that had been hovering around him seemed to descend and Joe felt nothing.

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

The smell of coffee brewing woke Joe. He opened his eyes slowly, trying to get his bearings. He knew it was night; he could see the dark sky dotted with the pinpricks of stars over his head. Joe felt his head resting on a blanket and another blanket covered him. His right arm was strapped tightly to his side. Joe tried to sit up, then let out a moan when every muscle in his body seemed to protest the action. Hearing the sound of footsteps, Joe turned his head and saw Jacob coming toward him. The Indian smiled as he stopped and knelt on the ground next to Joe. “Welcome back, my friend,” Jacob said. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Joe admitted. “I hurt in places I didn’t know you could hurt.”

Jacob laughed. “Well, you took a pretty bad fall. But other than a dislocated shoulder, some bruised ribs, and a few other cuts and bruises, you came through it all right.”

“I don’t understand what happened,” Joe said in a confused voice. “I didn’t feel anything, then all of a sudden, everything seemed to hurt.”

“The mind is a strange thing sometimes,” answered Jacob. “When too many things are happening, it seems to concentrate on only what seems most important. You were worried about those boys and what they were going to do. Once they were gone, your brain suddenly realized you were hurt. You had some kind of delayed reaction and went to some kind of shock.”

“I guess you’re right,” Joe said, not truly understanding what happened. He gave Jacob a weak smile. “Thanks,” Joe said. “For both scaring off those Indians and helping me.”

Jacob waved away Joe’s words. “It was nothing,” he said. “Sarah and I just happened along. We’re glad we could help.”

A plate and cup in her hands, Sarah walked over to Joe and sat down on the ground next to him. “Are you hungry?” she asked.

Suddenly, Joe realized he was famished. “I sure am,” he answered, struggling to sit up. Joe found sitting up to be a challenge. His right arm was strapped to his side, and his muscles were stiff. Joe would have fallen back to the ground if Jacob hadn’t grabbed him and gently pulled him to a sitting position. Joe grunted at the pain that even this small movement caused. Jacob slid Joe back a few inches, so Joe’s back was resting against a large rock. It took Joe a minute to realize he was still by the large boulder where he had fallen earlier in the day.

When Joe was finally settled into a sitting position, Sarah laid a plate on his lap. Joe could see it was filled with meat, potatoes and beans, all of which had been neatly cut into bite-sized pieces. Sarah placed a cup of coffee on the ground next to Joe, then handed him a fork. “Do you think you can manage to feed yourself?” she asked.

“It may be a little messy,” Joe said with a smile as he picked up the fork, “but I think I can do it.” He carefully brought a piece of meat to his mouth. Joe chewed slowly, savoring the taste. The venison he was eating was well cooked and seasoned. Joe thought it was the best thing he ever tasted. Settling themselves on the ground next to Joe, Jacob and Sarah seemed eager to chat. “You said you were heading home,” Jacob said. “Where do you live?”

“My Pa has a ranch outside of Virginia City,” Joe answered as he ate. “I live there with him and my two brothers.”

“Virginia City?” Sarah said with a frown. “How far is that?”

“About five, six hours ride from here,” Joe answered.

“We’ll make sure you get home tomorrow,” Jacob promised.

“You don’t have to do that,” Joe said. “I don’t want to cause you any more trouble. I can make it.”

“I’m sure you can,” Jacob said with a smile. “But it’s no bother. We don’t have any specific place to go. We’re just wandering around, looking for a place to buy.”

“Thanks,” Joe said gratefully. He didn’t want to admit it, but he wasn’t sure he could have made the trip home by himself.

Suddenly, Joe looked around. “My horse!” he exclaimed. “I forgot all about him.”

“Don’t worry,” Jacob assured Joe. “Your horse is fine. I found him and hobbled him with our horses. I checked him over. He wasn’t hurt in the fall.”

“Thank you again,” Joe said. “All I ever seem to say to you is thanks.”

“Well, I told you back at the store I would repay you,” Jacob said. Then he laughed. “I hadn’t figured on doing it quite so soon, or in quite this way, but I guess God moves in mysterious ways sometimes.”

“Mind if I ask you a question?” Joe asked.

“No, go ahead,” answered Jacob.

“Who are you?” asked Joe. “I mean, where do you come from? I heard you tell Watson that you were half white. But you’re not like any white man or Indian I ever met.”

Jacob laughed again. “I guess you’re right,” he replied. “I have a hard time fitting in anywhere.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Joe said hastily. “I just meant…well” Joe’s voice trailed off. He wasn’t really sure what he had meant.

“Don’t worry,” Jacob said reassuringly. “I know what you meant. Sarah and I are Lakota, what you call Sioux. Or at least my mother was. My father was a white man. He lived with the Lakota for a couple of years. He was killed while hunting buffalo when I was about four. I lived with my mother’s people until I was about ten. Then my mother got sick. She knew she wasn’t going to get well, and she knew how her people felt about a half-white child. Indians aren’t much different than white men when it comes to a child of mixed blood. The Lakota didn’t have much use for me either.”

“I’m sorry,” Joe said. “It must have been hard for you.”

Jacob shrugged. “At the time, I thought my life was pretty rotten. But like I said, God moves in mysterious ways sometimes. When my mother became ill, she took me to a missionary who lived near our village. Father Paul. He was a wonderful man. He agreed to take my mother and me in. When my mother died, he sort of adopted me.”

“That’s why you speak English so well,” Joe said.

“Yes,” replied Jacob. “Between my father and Father Paul, I’ve spoken more English than Lakota in my life. But Father Paul taught me a lot of other things as well as proper English. I used to ride with him when he visited the villages. The man was a true saint. He never said a bad thing about anyone, and he helped everyone he met. He never got many converts, but that didn’t seem to bother him. His real joy was helping people, whenever and wherever he could. I learned a lot from him, more than any school could have ever taught me. ”

“I’m glad he taught you about helping people,” Joe said with wry grin. “Otherwise, I would have been in real trouble.”

“He taught me more than that,” Jacob said, a distant look coming over his eyes. “When we rode into the villages, people sometimes made some pretty mean comments about me. Father Paul taught me that words are just words. He showed me how to live with hate, and how to forgive those who would try to make me hate them.”

“Sounds like a remarkable man,” Joe said, admiration showing in his voice.

“He was,” Jacob said. “I think he would have liked me to become a missionary, like him. But then I met Sarah.”

Sarah smiled at her husband, her love shining in her eyes.

“Sarah was in one of the villages we visited,” Jacob continued. “Actually, she was there a long time before I noticed her. But once I did see her, I knew I would never live the life of a priest. Father Paul taught her English, as he taught me, as well as how to care for the sick and injured. Sarah began accompanying us to the villages, so she could help him. I have to admit, I encouraged her to come along. Four years ago, he married us.”

“What made you come out here?” Joe asked.

“Father Paul died shortly after we were married,” Jacob answered. “He was an old man when I first came to him, but I never realized it. He always seemed like he would go on forever. But one day, his heart just gave out. Sarah and I knew we would not be welcome back in the villages, and that the white man’s towns would shun us also. So we decided to try to find some place where could live in peace.”

“You’ve been looking for a ranch for four years?” Joe said in an astonished voice.

“No,” Sarah said with a laugh. “Not even I would put up with that.”

“We spent about two years looking for gold,” Jacob said. “We knew we needed some money to buy a ranch and we figured that prospecting would be the best way to get it. So, we traveled to Colorado and started looking. We ran into some prospectors from time to time, and occasionally visited one of the boom-towns that sprang up in the gold fields. But mostly, we just kept to ourselves. Eventually, we found enough nuggets to cover what we think the cost of a ranch will be.”

“Why haven’t you bought a ranch?” Joe asked.

“Well, it’s proven to be harder than we thought,” Jacob admitted. “Every time we found a place we thought we would like, the owner would refuse to sell it to us. Seems selling a ranch to a half-breed is not considered the right thing to do.”

“I’m sorry,” Joe said, his voice filled with regret for the way these kind people had been treated by supposedly civilized white men.

“Don’t be,” Jacob said. “It’s not your fault. It’s just the way things are. We’ll find someplace eventually, won’t we, Sarah.”

“Yes,” Sarah replied confidently. “We’ll find our home one day.”

Putting his now empty plate aside, Joe said, “There’s some good land around the Ponderosa, where we live. I’ll bet I can help you find a place.”

“Well, we’ll see,” Jacob said vaguely. He noticed Joe’s eyes were starting to grow heavy. “The important thing now is for you to get some rest. It’ll be a long ride home for you tomorrow.”

Nodding, Joe had to agree. His belly was full, and he was beginning to feel sleepy. The pains that seemed so sharp earlier had faded to dull aches. Joe was ready to call it a night. Helping Joe to lie back down, Jacob carefully covered him with a blanket.

“Thanks,” Joe mumbled in a sleepy voice. As he drifted off to sleep, Joe heard Jacob say, “God watch over you, my friend.” Joe’s last thought before he went to sleep was God had already done a pretty good job of watching over him.

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

When Joe woke, he looked up at the bright sun and figured it was already mid-morning. Alarmed at having slept so long, Joe sat up quickly, and found that was a big mistake. Every muscle in his body was sore and his shoulder ached. Joe let out an involuntary groan.

Rushing over to Joe, Jacob asked with concern, “Are you all right, my friend?”

Joe wanted to say yes, but somehow he couldn’t lie to Jacob. “No,” Joe admitted. “I’m about as sore as a man can be.”

“I know you’re very sore now,” Jacob reassured Joe with a smile. “But it will pass quickly. A few days rest and you will forget the aches.”

“I hope you’re right,” Joe said, wincing as he shifted his weight.

“We’ll help you to get home,” Jacob said “You’ll feel better once you’re home.”

The thought of five or six hours in the saddle filled Joe with dismay. “I don’t know if I can ride that far,” he admitted.

“We’ll get you there,” Jacob said.

It was almost noon by the time Jacob helped Joe climb onto his horse. Sarah had insisted on making breakfast for Joe, even though it was mid-morning. She scolded him like a mother when he didn’t eat everything on his plate. Joe and Jacob both laughed when she grumbled about the wasted food. The truth was, Joe had left very little on the plate. He had eaten more than enough to fill his stomach.

Sarah had also insisted on checking Joe’s bruises before she let him ride. She gently unwrapped the cloth that bound Joe’s arm to his body, then insisted that he take off his shirt. Joe reddened with embarrassment as he eased off his shirt, but Sarah pretended not to notice. She frowned at the large bruise that seemed to cover most of his right side, and gently probed his side to be sure his ribs were intact. She put her hand on Joe’s bruised shoulder while she slowly lifted his right arm, then quickly dropped the arm when Joe groaned at the pain the movement caused. With a shake of her head, she told Joe he could probably sit a horse, but that they would have to ride very slowly. Joe didn’t argue. By the time Sarah had helped Joe put his shirt back on, and re-wrapped his arm so it was bound tightly to his side, the sun was high in the sky. Joe groaned again but this time not in pain when Sarah muttered something about fixing lunch before they left. Joe didn’t think he could eat another bite. Sarah finally relented when Jacob insisted they had to get Joe home, that his family would be worried. Joe grinned when Jacob winked at Joe behind Sarah’s back. At long last, the horses were saddled and the all the trappings of the camp were neatly stowed on the pack horse. Joe began to wonder how he was ever going to manage to get into the saddle. He didn’t need to worry. Jacob picked up Joe as if he weighed nothing and gently placed him on his horse. Joe shook his head at Jacob’s strength. The only other person he knew who was that strong was his brother Hoss.

The three rode slowly across the plain, with Jacob leading the pack horse. At first, the ride didn’t bother Joe much. He was sore but the pain was more of a dull ache than anything. But with each passing mile, his ribs and shoulder began to hurt more and more. His sore muscles began to stiffen, and the aches turned into a sharper pain. Joe gritted his teeth and tried not to show how much he was hurting. Noting the look of pain and discomfort on his young friend’s face, Jacob thought briefly about stopping, but was sure they were close to Joe’s home. He decided it was better to keep going.

“Why don’t you tell me more about your ranch?” Jacob asked Joe.

Joe knew Jacob was trying to get him to talk, to distract him from the pain. He nodded gratefully, and began talking about his father, his brothers, and the Ponderosa.

“What do you do on the ranch?” Jacob asked, trying to keep Joe talking. Smiling weakly, Joe answered, “Well, you wouldn’t have guessed it from yesterday, but I’m mostly in charge of breaking horses.” He shook his head briefly. “I’ve been tossed off of horses a lot. You’d think I’d know how to fall.”

“It’s different when you’re expecting it,” answered Jacob. “Besides, I doubt if you roll down a gully and into a boulder when a wild horse tosses you.”

Smiling, Joe nodded -- then winced.

“What about your mother?” Sarah asked quickly.

“She died when I was little,” answered Joe quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. “I don’t remember her much. Most of what I know about her is what my Pa and brothers have told me.”

Looking at each other, Sarah’s and Jacob’s eyes shared the sympathy they felt for Joe. “What were you doing up in the mountains?” asked Jacob.

In clipped sentences, Joe told his new friends about the fort the Army was building, and how he had been sent to finalize the contract for lumber. Joe’s voice got softer as he talked and soon it trailed off. Turning his head to take a closer look a Joe, Jacob frowned. The reins of his bridle looped loosely through his fingers, Joe had his left hand wrapped around his sore ribs. He was bent forward in the saddle, and his face showed the pain he was feeling. “Maybe we should stop,” Sarah suggested tentatively.

“No,” answered Jacob with a shake of his head. “If Joe gets off his horse now, he won’t be able to get back on. I’m not sure another night sleeping on the hard ground is going to help him much. I think we’re better off getting him home.”

Trying to distract his young friend from his misery, Jacob began telling Joe stories of his life with Father Paul. He tried to keep the stories amusing, and was rewarded with an occasional small smile from Joe. Joe lifted his head a few times to look around and give directions. But mostly, he just gritted his teeth and hung on to the saddle. The sun was beginning to set when Jacob finally halted the horses. He looked at Joe with concern. Joe was bent almost double in the saddle, his face beaded with sweat. “Maybe we ought to stop here,” said Jacob.

Lifting his head, Joe looked around. “No,” he said with a shake of his head. “We’re on Ponderosa land. It’s not far to the house. I can make it.”

“Whatever you say,” Jacob agreed with a nod. “Which way?”

Pointing weakly, Joe indicated south and Jacob urged the horses forward. He didn’t comment on the small grunt of pain from Joe as the horses began to move. His admiration for Joe’s tenacity and courage had grown with each passing mile. He wouldn’t insult his young friend now by arguing with him. It was dusk when the three riders came into the yard in front of the house. Joe saw the house looming in front of him, and felt a surge of relief. His side and shoulder ached so bad he wasn’t sure how much longer he could have stayed in the saddle. But he also felt a sense of satisfaction in having made the ride all the way home. Halting the horses in front of the house, Jacob quickly slid off his mount and walked to the side of Joe’s horse. His strong arms pulled Joe off the saddle as gently as possible. Joe’s leg’s buckled as they hit the ground, but Jacob held him firmly. After a few tries, Joe finally got his legs to move forward. Jacob had his arms wrapped around Joe and helped his young friend toward the house. Sarah followed the pair toward the door.

“Hello, the house,” shouted Jacob as the neared the front door. “We need some help out here.” Just as Jacob was about to put his hand on the latch of the door, it was pulled open. A tall, gray-haired man stood in the doorway, a look of curiosity on his face. The man’s look instantly turned to concern as he recognized the young man around whom Jacob had wrapped his arms.

“Hi, Pa,” Joe greeted the man in a barely audible voice.

“Joe!” exclaimed Ben Cartwright in alarm. “What happened?”

“He’s had a bad fall,” answered Jacob for his friend. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but he has some pretty bad bruises. Separated his shoulder, too.”

“In here,” said Ben, pulling the door open as wide as possible. As Jacob moved past, Ben went to Joe’s side and helped his son into the house. As he walked Joe into the living room, Jacob noted the two men descending the stairs. One was a big man with thinning brown hair, wearing a white shirt and tan vest; the other was dressed in black, with thick locks of dark hair falling forward over his forehead. Both men rushed forward, their faces showing concern.

“Joe!” cried Hoss Cartwright as he rushed to help his younger brother. “What did you do to yourself?”

“Just took a fall,” Joe managed to say as Ben and Jacob guided him to the red leather chair near the fireplace. Joe sighed with relief as the two men eased him into the chair. Ben saw the swelling and bruise on the side of Joe’s head, and he gently turned Joe’s head to take a better look. Satisfied that the head injury wasn’t serious, Ben immediately began untying the cloth that bound Joe’s arm to his side, then began unbuttoning Joe’s shirt. He pulled the shirt and jacket off his son, and blanched when he saw the ugly bruises visible on Joe’ shoulder and side. Ben could see the bruises ran most of the length of Joe’s body.

Adam Cartwright whistled softly as he watched over Ben’s shoulder. “You must have taken quite a fall,” Adam said to his youngest brother.

“His horse was running at a gallop when it tripped,” explained Jacob. “He rolled down a gully, and bounced off a boulder.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck, little brother,” Hoss commented, shaking his head.

“It could have been a lot worse,” agreed Joe. He nodded in Jacob’s direction. “Jacob ran off some Indians who were chasing me. He and Sarah took care of me and brought me home.” Joe winced and gritted his teeth as his father probed his side and shoulder.

Finishing his examination of his son, Ben stood. “Nothing broken as far as I can see,” he declared. Ben turned toward Jacob. “Thank you,” he said softly. “Thank you very much.”

Jacob shrugged. “It was nothing,” he replied. “The Indians I ran off were just some boys trying to prove they were men. All Sarah and I did was patch Joe up some and bring him home. Anyone would have done the same.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Hoss. “We appreciate what you did.”

“Adam, Hoss, you’d better get Joe upstairs,” said Ben. “He looks like he could use a soft bed.”

“Pa, Sarah and Jacob have had a long ride,” said Joe softly. “I think the least we owe them is dinner and a room for the night.”

“Of course we do,” Ben agreed. He turned to Jacob and Sarah and gave the couple a smile. “Would you be our guests? It’s the least we can offer you.”

Looking startled, Jacob asked slowly, “Are you sure, Mr. Cartwright? I mean, we’re Lakota – Sioux. Are you sure…”

“I’m sure,” interrupted Ben in a firm voice. “Please, stay and have dinner with us. We have plenty. And we can offer you a nice soft bed for the night.”

Still uncertain whether to accept, Jacob looked at Sarah. When she nodded, Jacob turned back to Ben. “Thank you,” he said with a warm smile. “It’s been a long time since we’ve slept with a roof over our heads.”

As Ben watched, Adam and Hoss helped Joe to his feet, and walked him slowly to the stairs. Turning to Jacob, Ben said, “Please make yourselves at home. I want to help Joe get settled.” Then he followed his sons up the stairs. Looking around, Jacob and Sarah were unsure what to do next. Jacob shrugged, then walked over to the sofa and sat down. Sarah followed her husband. “Nice people,” she commented as she settled on the sofa next to Jacob. “I can’t remember the last time we had dinner in something other than a tent or the open sky. This will be a real treat.”

Jacob nodded. “The Lord surely does work in mysterious ways,” he said with a smile.

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

When Ben came down the stairs about an hour later, he wasn’t surprised to see Adam chatting with Jacob and Sarah as if they were old friends. He had heard the voices from below as he sat in Joe’s bedroom, voices which were soft at first but grew increasingly loud and punctuated with an occasional laugh. Jacob, who had been sitting stiffly on the sofa at first, was now relaxed on the seat, his arm around Sarah’s shoulders. Adam was sprawled in Ben’s red leather chair. As Ben descended the stairs, three faces turned to him.

“How’s Joe doing?” Adam asked immediately.

“He’s asleep,” replied Ben, giving his oldest son a reassuring nod. “Where’s Hoss?”

“Putting up the horses,” replied Adam.

“I offered to do it,” said Jacob almost apologetically. “But Hoss insisted.”

Smiling Ben said, “I’m not surprised. Knowing that big son of mine, he would have wanted to make sure your animals got as good a dinner as their owner.”

Just then, the front door opened and the Ben’s “big son” walked in.

“Joe all right?” asked Hoss as he crossed the room to join the group.

“He’s sore, tired and achy,” answered Ben with a smile. “But he’ll be all right.” Ben chuckled. “He kept insisting he wasn’t that tired. At least, that’s what he said until his head hit the pillow and he fell asleep about 30 seconds later.” Ben turned toward the couple on the sofa. “Joe told me more about what you did for him…Jacob, is that right?” Seeing Jacob’s confirming nod, Ben continued, “We’re very grateful for the way you and your wife looked after Joe.”

“I’m sure Joe exaggerated what we did,” answered Jacob in a dismissive tone. “Besides, he did a good turn for me. I was only returning the favor.”

Padding in from the kitchen, Hop Sing came to the edge of the living room. “Dinner is ready,” he said with a smile. “You come eat.” The cook turned and quickly walked back to the kitchen.

“Hot diggity,” said Hoss, rubbing his hands together. “I’m plum ready to fade away with hunger.”

“We’d better go eat,” said Ben with a laugh, as he gestured toward the dining room. “When Hoss gets hungry, an angry bear looks cuddly by comparison.”

“Aw, Pa,” complained Hoss. “I’m just a growing boy.”

“Yeah, growing into a small mountain,” commented Adam wryly.

As they got to their feet, Jacob and Sarah exchanged smiles. The closeness and affection the Cartwrights felt toward each other was apparent, and that warm feeling was being extended to include their guests. Neither Jacob nor Sarah could remember the last time they had seen or been included in such a friendly atmosphere.

As they reached the table, Jacob held the chair out for Sarah, then sat down. His eyes widened a bit as he saw the food on the table – a platter piled high with baked chicken, a huge bowl of mashed potatoes, and another bowl filled with green beans. There was barely room in the center of the table for the gravy boat, platter of biscuits and bowl of rice that were crowded on the table.

“Are you expecting an army for dinner?” asked Jacob with a smile.

“I’m afraid this is partially my fault,” replied Adam as he whisked a napkin from the table and onto his lap. “When I told Hop Sing you were staying for dinner, I also told him what you did for Joe. He immediately started cooking up a storm. Sort of his way of saying thank you also.”

“I’ll try not to insult him by leaving too many leftovers,” said Jacob, grinning as his eyes scanned the table.

“At this table, we NEVER have leftovers,” said Ben, his head turning pointedly toward Hoss.

As the following laughter died down, Jacob turned to Ben. “Mr. Cartwright, would you mind if I said grace?” asked Jacob.

“No, of course not,” Ben answered, a bit surprised.

As the people around the table bowed their head, Jacob intoned, “Dear Lord, thank you for watching over all of us, and for taking care of us. Thank you for giving Sarah and me the chance to help our young friend Joe, and giving us the bountiful blessing of not only this wonderful meal but also the gift of new friends. Amen.”

“Amen,” came the heartfelt reply from around the table.

“Oh, Lord, one more thing,” said Jacob quickly, with a mischievous look on his face. “Help me to get to the chicken before Hoss.”

“Jacob!” exclaimed Sarah in disapproval as the Cartwrights laughed.

“Well, the Lord helps those who help themselves,” answered Jacob. He reached for the platter “And right now, I’m going to help myself to that chicken.”

As the dinner progressed, Jacob didn’t realize the conversation was slowly but surely turning into a monologue as he talked about his and Sarah’s experiences over the past few years. The Cartwrights encouraged him, asking questions and making comments that kept Jacob talking. When Jacob finally realized he was dominating the conversation, he apologized. “I didn’t mean to talk so much,” he said. Jacob glanced over at Sarah. “Sarah always tells me I have the soul of a preacher.”

“We didn’t mind in the least,” Ben assured Jacob. “You and Sarah have led a very interesting life, and that’s putting it mildly.”

“That’s for dang sure,” added Hoss with a smile. “And we haven’t had two nicer people at our dinner table in a long time.”

Both Jacob and Sarah looked down, their faces showing that they were pleased but a bit embarrassed by Hoss’ enthusiastic comment.

As Hop Sing walked into the dining room with two small plates in his hand, Sarah turned to the cook. “That was a wonderful meal,” she said. She glanced at the table where the platter piled with chicken bones and empty bowls gave evidence to the hearty appetites that had been satisfied. “I think I might have even given Jacob and Hoss some competition.”

“Thank you, missy,” replied Hop Sing, obviously delighted with Sarah’s praise.

“What’s for dessert?” asked Hoss, eyeing the plates in Hop Sing’s hand.

“Hop Sing make peach pie,” replied the cook. “Very special, very good.”

“That ain’t no lie,” Hoss agreed. “Hop Sing’s pies are the best in the territory.” He started to reach for one of the plates.

But Hop Sing pulled the plate away from Hoss’ hand. “Mr. Hoss wait turn,” sniffed the cook. He smiled at Sarah and Jacob as he put the plates down in front of them. “Best pieces of pie go to man who save Little Joe, and to pretty lady.”

“You know, that’s Hop Sing’s highest compliment,” said Adam. “He always gives the biggest pieces of pie to the people he thinks deserves them.”

“Thank you,” said Jacob to the cook, “for both the meal and the honor.”

With a pleased smile on this face, Hop Sing bowed slightly toward Jacob and Sarah, acknowledging their praise. Then he hurried back into the kitchen, returning a minute later with three small plates. The cook put a piece of pie in front of Adam, and then Hoss.

“I’ll have my pie a bit later,” said Ben as Hop Sing set the last plate in front of him. “I want to go up and check on Joe.”

“You eat pie,” said Hop Sing a in a firm voice. “You stay here. Visit with honored guests. Hop Sing have dinner tray all ready for Little Joe. Also have good Chinese medicine to rub on sore spots. You stay. Hop Sing take care of Little Joe.” With a quick nod, the cook left the dining room without waiting for an answer from Ben. He returned a minute later carrying a covered tray. “You eat,” ordered Hop Sing to the people around the table as he hurried past them toward the stairs. Picking up his fork, Ben said with a smile, “Well, now you know who REALLY runs things around the Ponderosa.” Jacob and Sarah grinned at Ben as they began to eat their pie.

“How big a place are you looking to buy?” Adam asked Jacob between bites of his dessert.

“We’re hoping to find a place big enough to run a small herd of cattle as well allow me to raise some horses,” replied Jacob.

“That’s pretty ambitious,” commented Hoss with a smile.

“One thing you’ll find out about my husband is that he never does things in a small way,” said Sarah. She smiled at Jacob. “And when he puts his mind to something, he usually finds a way to accomplish it.”

“I was just thinking, Pa,” said Adam thoughtfully. “The old Pearson place might be just what Jacob and Sarah are looking for.”

“You know, you’re right, Adam,” answered Ben enthusiastically. “The Pearson place would be perfect.”

“If the owner is willing to sell to us,” said Jacob cautiously. “We’ve found that there are a lot of people who aren’t willing to do business with, well, with someone who isn’t white.”

“That’s no problem, “ replied Ben. “Considering that we own the land.”

“I don’t want to take part of the Ponderosa,” said Jacob with a frown. “Joe told me about your ranch and how you’ve built it up. I wouldn’t feel right taking part of that away from you.”

“Actually, the Pearson spread is a few miles east of the Ponderosa,” explained Ben. “I bought it as more of a favor to Mrs. Pearson than anything else. After her husband died, she wanted to go back home to Kansas with her children, and I bought it to help her out.”

“And probably paid a lot more for it than it was worth,” said Sarah with a smile. She had begun to understand the generous nature of the man who sat at the head of the table.

“Well, let’s just say I helped her out,” acknowledged Ben. “Anyway, we haven’t done anything with the place since we bought it. I haven’t quite been able to figure out how to make use of the land. It’s too far from the Ponderosa for us to run cattle, and I haven’t found anyone interested in buying it. You’d be doing us a favor by taking it off our hands.”

“I’m not looking for charity, Mr. Cartwright,” said Jacob a bit stiffly. “I’m looking to buy a place and pay full price for it.”

“Of course,” said Ben quickly. He recognized Jacob’s pride demanded the man not feel as if the Cartwrights giving him the land. “If you’re interested, we can negotiate the price later. I’ll be honest with you, though. We haven’t done much with the place in quite a while. It needs some work.”

“Pa’s right,” added Hoss. “That spread does need some fixing up. But we’ve got plenty of lumber and we’d be glad to help you.”

“We don’t have any horses available right now,” said Adam. “But we do have some cattle, and they’re good breeding stock. We were going to put them up for auction, but we could sell them to you just as easily.”

“There’s some wild horses in those hills above the ranch,” said Hoss in a speculative voice. “I bet you could catch them and use them to start a herd.”

“Goodness!” said Sarah with a laugh. “We haven’t even seen the place yet and you already have it stocked for us.”

“You’re right, of course,” said Ben with a smile. “I’m afraid we are getting a bit carried away. But I do think the Pearson place could be what you’re looking for. We could ride over there tomorrow or the next day and take a look, if you’re interested.”

“It does sound like the answer to our prayers,” agreed Jacob. He turned to Sarah. “I would like to take a look at the place.”

“I would, too,” said Sarah with a nod. She stifled a yawn. “But tomorrow is plenty of time to talk about it.”

“I’m afraid we’ve also forgotten our manners,” said Ben, noting Sarah’s yawn. “You must be tired.” Ben turned to his middle son. “Hoss, why don’t you show Jacob and Sarah to their room.”

“Yes sir,” agreed Hoss, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He smiled across the table as Sarah and Jacob. “I took your bags and things up while you were visiting with Adam. But you can let me know if you need anything else once you take a look at it.”

A look of dismay crossed Sarah’s face. “But we can’t just leave the table,” she said. She looked at the empty plates and dishes spread in front of her. “We should help clean up.”

“Sarah, one of the first things you have to learn about the Ponderosa is that there’s an iron-clad rule,” said Adam with a smile. “Nobody – but nobody – messes around in Hop Sing’s kitchen, not even to help clean up. Besides, he’d be insulted if he found our guests clearing the table and doing dishes.”

“Well, if you’re sure…” said Sarah doubtfully.

“I’m sure,” answered Ben firmly. Then he smiled. “Besides, I’m going to go up and look in on Joe. I think about now he’s going to need some rescuing from Hop Sing’s tender care. Hop Sing does an excellent job of taking care of all of us, but he can be a bit smothering. Joe will be more than happy if I can find something else for our Chinese mother hen to do.”

“I think you’re probably right,” agreed Jacob with a grin. “We found out Joe doesn’t care much for a lot of fussing.” He turned to his wife. “Isn’t that right, Sarah?”

Blushing a bit, Sarah said in a low voice, “You men never know what’s good for you.”

After the laughter around the table died down, Ben’s face grew serious. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did for Joe,” he said.

“No, Mr. Cartwright,” said Jacob shaking his head. “It’s us that should be thanking you. You have no idea how long Sarah and I have been looking for a place where we could be accepted, a place to call home. It’s taken a long time, but I think we may have finally found it.”

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

The tall clock by the door was bonging nine when Joe slowly descended the stairs the next morning. His right arm was strapped firmly across his chest under his shirt, and Joe kept a firm grip on the banister with his left hand as he carefully climbed down the stairs. Ben followed his son by a step, ready to grab him if Joe should falter. When Joe finally reached the bottom of the stairs, he began to walk across the room toward the dining room table at a faster pace. Not only was Joe able to maneuver better on the flat surface, but he was eager to join the two people sitting at the table watching him.

“Good morning,” said Joe cheerfully to Jacob and Sarah as he gingerly eased himself down in the chair across the table from them.

“Good morning,” Jacob returned the greeting. “How are you feeling?” Sarah said nothing but her eyes examined Joe quickly, looking for signs of fever or any other adverse affects. Apparently satisfied, her face broke into a warm smile.

“Pretty stiff and sore,” admitted Joe with a wry smile. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a herd of buffalo.”

“And you look like it, too,” commented Ben as he walked around the table to his chair at the head. Sliding into his chair, Ben looked around the table. The platter in the center held the remnants of some scrambled eggs and two strips of bacon. The plate in front of Jacob was empty, dotted with crumbs. Sarah’s plate still held some eggs, and she delicately pierced a piece with her fork as Ben watched. “Did you get enough to eat for breakfast?” asked Ben in a solicitous tone.

“My goodness, yes,” replied Sarah with a small laugh. “After that wonderful dinner last night, I didn’t think I would be hungry this morning. But I think I ate almost as much as Hoss for breakfast.”

“No one can eat that much,” answered Ben with a grin. He leaned back in his chair and called toward the kitchen. “Hop Sing! Joe and I would like some breakfast, please.”

Apparently, the cook had been waiting for Ben’s call, because Hop Sing almost instantly padded into the dining room, carrying two plates filled with eggs, bacon and biscuits. He set one plate down in front of Ben, and moved quickly to put the other on the table in front of Joe. “You eat,” Hop Sing said to Joe in a firm voice. “Clean plate, get better.”

“Don’t worry, Hop Sing,” said Joe, picking up his fork. “I’m hungry as a bear.” Despite Joe’s words, the cook stood by the table, looking down his nose until he was satisfied Joe was eating . Then Hop Sing gave a quick nod and padded away from the table toward the kitchen.

“I feel rather decadent, still sitting at the table this late,” said Jacob with a smile as he lifted a cup of coffee to his lips. He took a sip, then continued. “But Adam and Hoss insisted that Sarah and I have a leisurely breakfast while they took care of the horses.”

“I’m glad they did,” said Ben, as he poured some coffee in a cup. He carefully slid the cup and saucer over toward Joe, making sure his son could reach them, then poured a second cup of the hot liquid for himself. “We have a firm policy that our guests don’t work on the Ponderosa.”

“Pa tells me you’re thinking about buying the old Pearson place,” said Joe as he ate.

“Yes,” agreed Jacob. “Sarah and I talked about it last night, and we think it could be just what we’ve been looking for. Enough land for both cattle and horses, and I gather there’s a house already built on it.”

“The neighbors seem awfully nice, also,” added Sarah with a twinkle in her eye.

“They’re not bad,” agreed Joe with a grin. “I’m glad you’re interested. As soon as I’m finished eating, I’ll ride over there with you and show you around.”

“Joseph, you are not riding anywhere, at least not for a week or so,” said Ben in a stern voice.

“Aw, Pa, I’m all right,” said Joe. “Just stiff and sore.”

“Your father is right, Joe,” said Sarah, her voice as firm as Ben’s. “It will be awhile before you’re well enough to get on a horse.”

Joe look at the two determined faces staring at him from across the table, then looked down at his place. “Two against one. That’s not fair,” he grumbled.

“You might as well give in, Joe,” said Jacob with a chuckle. “You’re not going to win. You might be able to convince your father to let you get on a horse…”

“He won’t,” interjected Ben quickly.

“But I can tell you right now that Sarah is not going to let you ride until she thinks you’re fit,” finished Jacob. “She’ll drag you back to house by your ear if you try to mount a horse.

“Between those two and Hop Sing, I’ll be lucky if I get out the house by Christmas,” complained Joe. “I’m just a little bruised, that’s all.

“Joe, if you take it easy for a week or so, you’ll be fine,” said Ben in a placating voice. “But if you try to ride before you’re fit, you’ll end up taking much longer to heal.” Ben gave Joe a stern look. “You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, I know,” Joe agreed reluctantly. He stared at his plate for a minute, his mind obviously on something other than his breakfast. “What if,” said Joe slowly, “we took the buckboard over? I can’t hurt myself just sitting on a wagon.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” said Ben with a frown.

“There’s not much difference between sitting around here and sitting on a buckboard,” insisted Joe.

“There’s a lot of difference, and you know it,” said Ben. “That road to the Pearson place isn’t the smoothest, and you’ll get bounced on that wagon.”

“So I bounce a little,” said Joe with a shrug. “I’m not made of glass. I won’t break.”

“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea,” said Ben, his voice reflecting his doubt. He looked at Sarah. “What do you think, Sarah?”

“Well, it would be better if Joe just rested, “ she said. She looked across the table, where Joe was giving her his most appealing a look. “But I suppose if the buckboard was driven slowly, it wouldn’t do any harm.”

“Great!” said Joe with enthusiasm. He quickly wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed his chair back from the table. “I’ll go out to the barn and tell Hoss to hitch up the buckboard.” Joe left the table in a hurry, eager to get the wagon ready before Sarah or his father changed their mind.

“Sarah, my dear,” commented Jacob with a smile as he sipped his coffee. “I think you’ve just been conned into something.”

“I know,” agreed Sarah with a sigh. “But Joe looked so eager to go with us, and I just couldn’t tell him no.”

“Don’t worry, Sarah,” said Ben, chuckling. “There’s not many people who can resist Joe when he gets that ‘puppy dog’ look on his face.” His eyes twinkled as he added, “Don’t tell, Joe but I was going to suggest the buckboard if he hadn’t. I know that youngest son of mine well enough to know he probably would try to follow us to the Pearson place anyway, despite our telling him no. This way, at least, I can keep an eye on him and make him ride in the back if things get too rough for him.”

“You’re as big a con man as your son, Mr. Cartwright!” exclaimed Jacob with a laugh.

“Well, let’s just say Joe gets it naturally,” agreed Ben with a grin.

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

“This place is in worse shape than I thought,” said Ben in dismay as he looked at the broken fences of the corral and the barn door hanging loosely on its hinges. He had been eager to show Jacob and Sarah the Pearson spread, but now, as he looked around the neglected ranch, Ben wished he had ridden over by himself first.

“It’s all a matter of perspective, Mr. Cartwright,” said Jacob from his perch on the horse next to the buckboard. “You see a ranch in disrepair. I see the seed of a homestead that’s already begun to sprout. It will take a lot less work to fix this place up than building from nothing.”

“It’s not that bad, Pa,” added Joe from his seat in the buckboard next to Ben. “The house looks tight and dry, and the rest, well, some lumber and a little paint will do wonders for it.”

“You two feel a lot better about this place than I do,” said Ben doubtfully. He turned to Sarah, who was sitting on a horse next to Jacob. “Why don’t you take a look at the inside of the house while Jacob and I check the barn? Then you can decide for sure what you want to do.”

“All right,” agreed Sarah, sliding off her horse. She studied the one-story house for a minute, then turned to Jacob. “There’s a shingled roof on it, and glass in the windows,” she said, her eyes shinning with pleasure. “I can even see some curtain in the windows. Jacob, it’s a lot more than we had hoped for.”

“Now don’t say that too loud or Mr. Cartwright will raise the price,” said Jacob with a laugh.

“Actually, seeing this place, I’m thinking of lowering the price,” said Ben, shaking his head. Turning to Sarah, he added, “There’s some furniture and dishes and things inside. Mrs. Pearson left a lot behind. She said she didn’t need or have room for all of it at her sister’s house. I meant to have the place cleaned out but never got around to it.”