"The Winning Hand" © P T Dutcher. Bonanza and its characters © Bonanza Ventures, Inc. All Rights Reserved. No infringement on any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred.

Send all comments about this story to the author at grottowriter@yahoo.com
 
 

The game was going well. These small town yokels were easy pickings, a man could read their cards in their eyes. Most fell out in the early evening with only one slightly drunk, middle aged farmer hanging in tenaciously. Manow planned to take that one to the cleaners. He didn’t need the money but the challenge was worth the effort. He threw the cards in so the older man could shuffle the deck. He stretched his arms wide over his head expanding his chest to the limit in an effort to alleviate the ache in his back.

The bar was thinning out as the men wandered home to their wives or girlfriends or found their way upstairs with the giggling barmaids. The heavy tobacco smoke was threading as the men moved out leaving the smell of stale beer and spilled whiskey to make its way to his nostrils. If he’d come to a place like this in San Francisco, he’d have been slumming it. In Hattan, this was the only place available for a man to spend an evening. All in all, Manow was quite pleased with the way the stopover was turning out. He smiled at the pretty barmaid that was waiting for him. Yep, he’d turn a profit and have a bit of fun to boot.

He wasn’t sure when he became aware of the quiet appraisal but the feeling he was being watched sunk in slowly and he began scanning the room for the source. The man wasn’t hard to find as he made no effort to hide his interest. A tall dark haired man dressed in work clothes was standing by the bar holding a mug of beer. He took a long pull on the frothy liquid without taking his eyes off of Manow. When he saw Manow watching him, he left the shadow of a smile touch his face and he toasted him lazily.

Fascinated, Manow waved him over. "Care to join us?"

A rancher intercepted the man as he moved towards the game. Clapping him on the back, he shook hands with him. They exchanged pleasantries and the rancher left the bar.

The stranger joined Manow. He left his gaze wander across the table taking in the placement of every coin and bill along with the drink in front of the old farmer and the worn cards. The sharp eyes didn’t miss a detail. He took another pull on his beer and set the mug on the table. Placing his hands firmly on the arms of the chair, he eased himself into the seat like a man who’d been on a horse for a good part of the day. "Looks like you’re winning." He leaned back using the back of the chair to gently scratch a spot between his shoulder blades.

Manow frowned as he took a closer look at the work clothes. Covered in trail dust, the black shirt looked gray, but the cut of the clothes was unmistakably of a good quality. The typical homemade shirts of the farmers looked like sacks compared to the well fitting clothes of the newcomer. This one was not a farmer. Manow sat down intrigued. "You passing through?"

The man nodded and dropped his hat on the empty seat between them. "I had some business that needed my attention."

Manow tapped the table in front of the farmer. "Your deal."

The drunken man blinked to bring the cards into focus and then started to shoot them across the table. He was stopped when a strong hand gently grabbed his arm. He looked at the newest player who smiled broadly at him. Even white teeth flashed in the suntanned face.

"What’s your name?"

"Ben Kinders."

"Well, Ben," the man lifted up a card and left it dangle limply from his fingers, "I think we could use a new deck of cards. This one looks a bit soggy."

Ben chortled. "I think yer right. I’ll get one."

He placed a hand on the table to push to his feet but found empty space instead. He lurched forward narrowly missing striking his head on the table as the dark haired man caught him on an outstretched arm.

"I’ll do it." The man winked at Ben as he sat him unceremoniously into his chair.

Manow had a chance to watch the easy grace of his new opponent as he stepped to the bar and asked for a new deck of cards. If the refined voice hadn’t been a giveaway, the walk would have been. The man had not spent a lot of time behind a plow straddling a furrow.

A new deck of cards received, the man returned to the table.

"You didn’t drop your name, friend." Manow waved off the offer of the cards. "You deal, Mr…"

"Cartwright." Again the smile just flirted across the face. It seemed only Ben Kinders was going to be given the benefit of the pearly whites.

Manow took out a cigar and studied it. Funny. He’d spent all night playing with the old farmer and never knew his name. Not that it mattered at all. He held up the cigar. "Mind if I smoke?"

Kinders shrugged his shoulders. Cartwright shuffled the cards adeptly, watching Manow’s face instead of the cards as the process became more and more intricate. Kinders seemed fascinated by the bits of cardboard as they flipped and danced in Cartwright’s hands.

Manow found himself irritated at the man for showing some considerable skill with the deck as well as making him wait for an answer. Damn if he’d ask him anything again.

"Suit yourself."

That soft controlled voice irritated Manow as well. The cards flew across the table landing in neat piles in front of each player and the game began. Cartwright played well but conservatively. He’d win some and lose a bit. Patiently, the pile of coins and bills in front of him grew higher.

Manow was getting edgy. He’d planned to polish off the old farmer a long time ago. The man was down to his last few dollars and it was clear he’d be out the next hand unless he won.

Manow cut the deck and dealt out the five cards to each player. Immediately, he knew the old man had a decent hand. His eyes lit up like a church window at Christmas time and he leaned forward in his excitement. Manow smiled. Cartwright or no, he was going in for the kill.

"I’ll take two." Cartwright smiled and slipped two cards towards the center of the table. Manow obliged by sending two more flying in his direction.

"I’ll play these." Kinders took a long pull on his glass and beamed at Manow. "I like these just fine."

Manow threw in three and dealt himself three more from the deck. Smiling he tossed some money into the pot. I bet.

Cartwright carefully appraised his cards with hooded eyes and that infuriating shadow smile. He counted some bills out with his left hand and slipped them onto the tables. "I raise."

Manow smiled. The son of a bitch was after the same prey he was. He saw the old man was on the wire when he joined the game. Comfortable now that he had figured out his opponent, Manow settled back to enjoy the game. It was in the second round of betting that Kinders discovered he didn’t have enough money to back his bet.

"Will you fellas take an IOU?" Kinders hands shook. "I’m good for it."

Cartwright leaned forward. "Maybe you ought to just pull out of this one. Go home."

Manow frowned at him and then beamed at Kinders. "For the kind of money on the table, old man, I need something more substantial than an IOU."

Kinders stared at the cards in his hand and then into Cartwright’s steady gaze. "I gotta try." He grabbed the paper and pen that Manow offered and scribbled something down onto it. "Here. That substantial enough for you?"

Manow smiled as he saw what he’d wanted to see all evening. The old fool had actually bet his farm. He nodded to him reassuringly and tossed it into the pot. "That should carry you." Expansively, he pushed his entire stack of bills into the center of the table. "I call."

Cartwright raised an eyebrow. "I don’t think so."

Manow gave him a surprised look. "What do you mean you don’t think so? That’s about a thousand dollars."

Cartwright nodded. "Yes, it is." He leaned back in his chair. "But you see, when an IOU is taken like that farm there, the whole table needs to agree to how much it’s worth. I’d say the farm is worth two thousand. You’re short."

Manow felt the heat rising on his neck. "Since when do you know how much farms are worth?"

Cartwright shrugged his shoulders and indicated the room. "Ask them."

Manow looked at the group of men glaring at him. They were predominantly farmers and if Kinders’ farm was worth less than two thousand, then theirs was as well. Fuming, Manow carefully counted out a thousand dollars from the middle of the table and sat back. "I guess that puts me out."

Cartwright nodded. "I guess it does at that." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a wallet. The farmer’s eyes bulged as he took out five hundred dollars, adding it to the money already on the table. Cartwright pushed it towards the center. "That’s two thousand even….and I call." He smiled reassuringly at Kinders.

The farmer’s hand shook as he reached for the cards he’d been nursing since they’d been dealt to him. Suddenly, they didn’t feel as heavy as they had earlier. For the second time that night, he felt a strong hand stopping him.

"How do you feel right now, Ben?" Cartwright had him in a steady gaze he couldn’t look away from. "Your whole life is riding on that turn of that card and you have no idea what I have. You could lose everything."

Ben Kinders felt a shaking take his body. He felt like the influenza had hit him and the enormity of what he’d done sank home through the alcohol. Tears welled up in his eyes and he began to cry.

Cartwright waited him out as patiently as he’d waited on each turn of the cards all evening. When the sobs calmed into little gasps, he removed his hand. "Whatever comes up there, Ben, you need to make a promise to yourself."

Ben swallowed hard and nodded. "Believe me, Mister. I’m never playing cards again for anything more than matchsticks." He wiped his face on a dirty sleeve. "I lose the farm and my wife will leave me."

Cartwright pulled back his hand and Kinders spread his full house tens high onto the table. Fearfully, he stared at the cards in front his opponent.

Cartwright picked up the cards and glanced at them. He smiled the full toothed smile at Kinders and then tossed them face down into the center of the table. "You win, Ben. You got me beat."

The old farmer screamed and knocked over the chair behind him in his excitement. Pounding Cartwright on the back and shaking his hand until the man had to pull it away from him in order to keep it attached, Kinders danced around the room.

Manow sighed and took the man’s hat from where it had fallen on the floor. He picked up the money and began dumping it in. In order to get the scribbled note, he had to move Cartwright’s cards. Curious, he took a peek at the losing hand. He turned over an ace. Ace high…yeah, he’d have stayed in with that. Two aces…..he frowned. A jack….a jack…..the last card was in his hand when he felt a tight grip around his wrist.

"You didn’t stay in the pot." Cartwright’s voice was even but held a slightly threatening quality.

"I just wanted to see whether I would have won or not." Manow jerked his wrist away.

"Kinders was the winner. Could you have beat him?" The cultured voice was deceptively gentle.

Manow grabbed for the IOU and tossed it into the hat. In the process, the last card flipped over. The ace of clubs settled onto the table next to the other two aces. A full house, aces high. Manow stared at the card and then at Cartwright who was now livid in anger. "It was an accident. I didn’t mean to flip it." Manow stared at the cards until Cartwright scooped them up and shuffled them into the deck. "You had the winning hand."

"I can afford the loss." Cartwright picked up Kinders’ hat full of money and shoved it into his arms as his friends took their jubilation out onto the street.

"He’ll just lose it to the next guy, Cartwright." Manow leaned back into the table. "His type always will."

"He might have learned something this time." Cartwright shrugged. "I figured it was worth the effort."

"Costly on your part." Manow laughed. "I think you’re a bigger fool than he is. Maybe you get off on being noble."

"Maybe you need to mind your own business." Cartwright picked his hat off the chair and set it squarely on his head. "You could have left it between us by not accepting his IOU."

"Why would I do that when I knew I could have it all?" Manow’s temper flared. "You owe me. You cheated."

"I owe you nothing." Cartwright brushed past him and walked out of the door headed in the general direction of the hotel. "It’s not cheating to just hold onto a winning hand."

Manow watched him go. "Oh, you owe me. You ruined my fun, friend."
 
 

Adam rode past Kinders’ farm on his way out of town. He felt good about what he’d done even if Manow had a point. Kinders may or may not have learned a lesson but he seemed to be a decent farmer and he’d managed to hold onto his land this long. The warmth of the day turned hot as noon approached. He stopped to eat a bite and get a bit of water for himself and his horse. He patted the animal’s silky neck "We’ll be home by tonight, boy." He sighed and squinted up at the sun. Wetting his hat in the creek, he set it back on his head and then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. The beef jerky that he’d put into his saddlebags didn’t look very appealing but it was what he could afford after the poker game the night before. He sighed and took a bite, pulling at the tough meat with his teeth until it snapped into a manageable piece he could soften before chewing.

Sunlight sparkled down through the leaves of the trees. The heat of the sun gently cooked the foliage until it left off a green smell. He sat down on a tuft of grass and chewed the now softened meat slowly. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply enjoying the light show behind his eyelids. As the sun kissed each side of his face, the lid would glow red and then go dark with shadow. His horse snorted and moved in alarm breaking his concentration. His eyes flew open to see a muzzle of a pistol inches away from his nose.

"Hello, friend."

Adam leaned back and gave Manow a lazy stare. "What do you want?"

"I spent all night long thinking about you, friend. Yes, I did." Manow scratched the side of his face with the pistol. "I kept thinking about how much richer I’d have been if you’d gone to bed early." Manow reached over and removed Adam’s pistol from its holster.

"You’re not a farmer." Adam took another bite of jerky and held it in his cheek to soften. "What were you going to do with a farm?"

"Sell it." Manow laughed. "Rent it." He shrugged. "Who knows? It’s the winning that counts."

"Really?" Adam shook his head. "I thought it was how you played the game."

"True enough." Manow was feeling very agreeable. "But you see, I think if everyone is to have a good time, everyone should be playing to win."

"I did win." Adam began to chew his bite of jerky. "So, you want to play with me again?"

Manow laughed. "Well, in a way." He sat down opposite Adam and brought the gun to line up directly with Adam’s right eye. "I want you to gamble something that’s a bit dearer than money. Something you can’t afford to lose."

"You want a poker game without money." Adam shook his head. "I’m heading home."

"Not really." Manow laughed. "I asked about you in town last night. You belong to the Ponderosa. It’s about a half a day….oh, that way." He nodded towards the mountains. "Now in that direction," he nodded towards the plains, "is a small ranch that I won a week ago. The man didn’t seem too upset about losing…that should have told me something."

Adam pointed to his canteen and the man handed it to him. He took a long drink and then stoppered it shut. "It wasn’t worth what you thought?"

"Oh, the land is okay….you see, it’s the beef." Manow smiled. "The cattle are sick. Anthrax I think they said."

Adam chuckled. "Well, you’ll have to shoot the steers and bury them. You won’t be able to sell the land til next year. Nobody will buy the land unless the winter has killed the Anthrax."

"They will if they don’t know about the Anthrax." Manow smiled and leaned forward as he warmed to his topic. "See, I found a bunch of men down on their luck that don’t know much about cattle. They’re going to butcher them, and then skin them. I can sell the hides."

Adam froze and stared at him. "Anthrax can be caught by humans. You’ll be killing at least half of those men."

Manow shrugged. "Not my problem. I just need to win the game."

"Not your problem?!" Adam exploded off the ground and was met with the pistol cocked and ready to fire.

"Sit down, Cartwright." Manow pushed the pistol into his chest. "I’m not finished."

Adam sank to the ground cross-legged holding his arms out to the sides. "There’s more?"

"Oh yes." Manow laughed. "See, it bugged me that you got all noble on me last night. It occurred to me that you joined that game for the sole purpose of ruining my fun. So, I decided to ruin yours."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small container of brandy. He held it out to Adam. "Drink this."

"No, thank you." Adam glared at him. "I’d rather not."

"Oh, but I want you to, and I think…" Manow wiggled the gun at him "under the circumstances what I want carries more weight."

Adam took the bottle and left a small trickle hit his lips and then handed it back. "Okay, I took a drink."

"No, no." Manow smiled at him. "I want you to drink the whole thing. There’s really only one shot of brandy in there and it’s a very special brandy. Very smooth don’t you think?"

Adam glared at him over the rim of the bottle as he drank the shot. "Happy?"

"Delirious." Manow laughed. Now, here’s the game. I’m going to go to your Ponderosa ranch with this horse. I’m going to tell your Daddy that you have been poisoned."

Adam swallowed hard and glanced at the bottle in Manow’s hand.

"That’s right." Manow waved the bottle at him. "It was really poisoned. I don’t play games that aren’t for keeps." He sighed and set the bottle on the ground. "Now, if you take the horse I’m going to give you and ride an hour in that direction," he pointed south, "you’ll find a small cabin. It has a nice well, plenty of water and that’s where Daddy can find you. He’ll have a small bottle of antidote."

Adam stared at Manow as though he were a mad man. "Why wouldn’t I just ride home?"

"Because you won’t make it. You see, the poison will start to take effect in an hour or so and you’ll not be able to ride that far. You’ll only be strong enough to make one of two destinations."

"Two?" Adam crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You’re giving me a choice?"

Manow’s eyes widened. "Of course. If I didn’t, where would the game be?"

"Of course." Adam rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "How rude of me to forget the game."

‘Oh, that’s all right, old man." Manow laughed. "Under the circumstances, these lapses are to be expected."

Adam nodded graciously but shot him a withering look.

"Now, as I was saying, you’ll have enough time to get to one of two places. If you go to the little cabin, you drink a lot of water and wait for Daddy, he comes and you live. Simple."

"And if I take the other choice?" Adam felt the world spin suddenly. He braced himself with his arms until the vertigo dissipated.

"Oh, I should have mentioned you’d get a bit dizzy. In the later stages, you’ll be nauseous, have a fever, possibly hallucinate."

"Thank you for filling me in." Adam’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Not at all." Manow thought for a moment. "Where was I?"

"The second choice." Adam’s mouth felt dry.

"Well, the second choice is to head in that direction." Manow pointed towards the north. "That is where that ranch of mine is. If you get there before tomorrow morning, you can tell those men I hired all about the anthrax. They’ll be nice and safe. Of course, Daddy won’t know about it and he’ll be at the cabin. So, I guess that means you’ll die."

Manow stood up and took the reins of Adam’s horse. "I’ll take your horse and you can have mine. I’ll ride to the Ponderosa and tell Daddy about how some bad man poisoned you and forced me to ride to him with the news and to give him this little bottle of life" Manow smiled broadly. "Heck, they’ll think I’m a hero. You can have my horse in a bit to make your choice. I’d choose very well if I were you. You’ll find my horse a few miles down the road. I wouldn’t want you trying to ride after me."

He placed his foot into the stirrup and swung up. "Hasta la vista." He pulled on the reins and dug in his heels to send the horse towards the Ponderosa, leaving Adam to make literally the decision of his life.

Adam watched him ride off then grabbed his canteen from the ground where it had been dropped. Leaning over the creek, he filled it. He drank heavily until he couldn’t drink another drop, then refilled it. Hanging it from his shoulder, he began to walk towards the horse he hoped would be waiting there. Through experimentation, he found a light jog wouldn’t set off the waves of vertigo provided he stopped every ten minutes or so to drink. Even still, it was an hour until he reached the promised horse. A sadder example of horseflesh might have been possible, but it was highly doubtful. The brief hope he’d had of being able to make the run at a full gallop and hit both destinations was gone. He’d be lucky if this animal made it to one of them.

Cursing under his breath, he swung up onto the nag and pushed his heels in to get it moving. The animal thought for a few moments before calmly walking forward. Adam kicked the horse one more time. "I never thought I’d ever use spurs, but I could make an exception in your case." The animal begrudgingly picked up the pace to something that under better conditions might have been considered a slow trot.

Manow rode into the Ponderosa carefully planning his acting debut. He wanted to be sure to leave enough time so he could get to the cabin and watch the great and noble Adam Cartwright ride in to save his own skin. It would be a long time before he’d mess with another of Manow’s marks. The house was a lot larger than he thought it would be compared to those he’d passed on the way in. Then he remembered how non-chalantly Adam had dropped five hundred dollars on the table knowing it was not coming back to him.

He noticed a man standing in the barn door. He looked familiar but a quick search of his memory came up dry. He wasn’t here to deal with the hired help. He practically vaulted to the front porch to pound on the front door. "Mr. Cartwright….Mr. Cartwright."

A large silver haired man came from the side of the house wiping dirt off his hands. "Can I help you?" The voice was deeper than his son’s but held the same quiet authority.

Manow almost smiled at the comparison but caught himself. "Mr. Cartwright, I’m a friend of your son’s. You have to hurry. Adam’s been poisoned. The guy who did it gave me this antidote and told me to tell you to meet Adam at this old cabin to give it to him."

"What?" Ben Cartwright lunged forward just in time to catch the vial that Manow let go of a bit prematurely.

Manow had planned to have the small vial break in front of the man but had been unprepared for the strength of his voice and his agility. Stepping back from the larger man, he caught his boot heel on the edge of the porch and went sprawling into the front yard. Cursing, he scrambled to his feet.

"How do I find this cabin?" Ben was advancing on him making him back up against his horse. "Why didn’t you take this to Adam before coming here?"

"Here, they gave me a map." Manow shoved a folded piece of paper towards Ben and decided to stay very close to his horse. "They told me they’d kill me if I didn’t do as they said."

Ben nodded in exaggerated understanding with his eyes blazing in anger. "Well, you are alive now aren’t you? And you say you are a friend of my son’s."

Manow quickly mounted his horse. "Can’t blame me for wanting to live, Mr. Cartwright. You can’t blame a man for that."

Ben reached up and held the horse’s bridle. "Get off that horse."

"Why?" Manow was puzzled by the reaction.

"That’s my son’s horse and you are not riding it. Get off." Ben grabbed his arm and pulled him solidly to the ground without giving him time to reply. "If you need to borrow a horse to get back to wherever you came from, talk to my son, Hoss. This horse stays here."

Without waiting for a reply from Manow, Ben headed for the barn. One of the largest men Manow had ever seen stepped out of the shadows leading a saddled horse.

"I heard, Pa. Here ya go. I’ll get saddled up and catch up with ya."

"Tell Joe, Hoss. He’ll need to stay here since we don’t have time to close anything up." Ben’s voice held even though it wavered slightly near the end of his sentence.

Hoss nodded towards the horse. "You’d best get going. What road?"

"The road towards Hattan. Looks like the cabin is beyond there."

Hoss nodded again. "I’ll meet up with you."

Manow waited for Ben to gallop out before approaching the big man. "I need a horse."

"Yeah." Hoss gave him a contemptuous glare. "Wouldn’t want you to get hurt. You wait here and I’ll see what I can find for you."

He re-entered the barn leaving Manow to stand in the front yard alone.

"Ya know, Adam, Old Man, I could feel sorry for you coming from these people. No wonder you go around playing the hero." Manow walked over to the corral and hung on the wooden bars.

He felt rather than saw Hoss coming up behind him. "Got my horse?"

"Not exactly." The big man had looked worried before but now the look was changed. "Where’d you say you met Adam?"

"I don’t think I said." Manow smiled up at him. "We met in Hattan."

Hoss nodded. "Maybe at a poker table."

Manow nodded his agreement. "You know your brother well."

"I do." Hoss stared at his boots. "You don’t."

Manow stopped smiling and stared at him. "We were poker playing buddies. Why wouldn’t you believe that?"

Hoss reached out and felt the material of Manow’s vest. "Adam isn’t a big poker player. Fact is, he hates to gamble. When he does play, it’s for pennies." The big hand tightened on the vest pulling Manow slowly off the ground. "I think we need to talk about how you got to be such good friends with Adam at a poker game where you were trying to fleece a hard working man out of his life’s effort."

The man in the barn stepped out and stared directly at Manow. Suddenly, the face clicked into place. This was the man who had talked to Adam in the saloon just before the poker game.

"Adam and I were having a friendly game of poker. This farmer was there. He wanted to place a large bet but didn’t have the money. So Adam and I took a note on his farm." Manow tried to pry Hoss’s hand open to relieve the pressure on his chest. "That was it."

"Adam. My brother. Took a note on a farm for a poker bet?" Hoss shook his arm slightly forcing Manow to fly backwards and forwards like a tree in a storm. "Mister, I don’t know who you are, but I know you’re a liar."

"Hoss." The man from the barn stepped forward. "I don’t think we have a lot of time for this. Why don’t I just get the branding iron hot?"

Hoss’s face brightened. "Why Raleigh, that’s a right fine idea."

Manow’s face paled. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"Just a little truth." Hoss dragged him towards the barn. "I bet you can even remember what it sounds like."

Adam had to keep pulling himself together to keep the lazy horse moving. The fever had mounted earlier than Manow had told him it would. The brandy on a nearly empty stomach must have accelerated the effects of the poison. He felt the urgency to get to his destination before it incapacitated him entirely. A slight breeze made him shiver uncontrollably. Twice he’d stopped to fill the canteen with water, but that was no longer an option. The last stop and he’d been almost unable to get back onto the horse. His legs would no longer hold him. The only positive he could think of was that the empty stomach left nothing to be thrown out. He had the dry heaves but he didn’t have to try to dismount for those.

The horse stopped and waited for instructions. Blurry eyed, Adam realized they’d come to the fork in the road. Pulling on the reins, he turned the horse into the right direction and kicked it as hard as his aching limbs would permit. His arms and legs felt like lead, but Manow had told him he’d have time to make it to one place. His lips moved in prayer as he asked God to give him the time to make it. One last favor.

He knew his mind was slipping when he saw Hoss riding next to him. His brother was talking about going fishing. The broad smiling face was full of life and excited about a trout he’d seen. Knowing it was an hallucination, Adam held onto it as long as he could, thankful for his brother’s company on the road. He felt the tears stinging his eyelids when Hoss faded away from view. "Come back, Hoss. Please come back." Adam didn’t recognize his own voice. The dry croak that came out was nothing like his rich baritone.

He hurt. Damn he hurt. He didn’t think it was possible to have every muscle and every internal organ a man had screaming at the same moment in time. He had to make it. Just a bit longer. It would only be a little bit longer. Thankfully, Hoss returned with Joe and they all rode on together. It hurt less when his brothers were with him. "Dear God, let me have my dreams." Hoss laughed and pushed Joe so he slipped off his saddle. "C’mon Adam. We’ll be home in just a bit."

Ben Cartwright resisted the urge to force his horse forward. Even at the pace he was keeping, the animal would be run into the ground before he got to Adam. The ground eating trot that seemed to eat up the miles from the Ponderosa to Virginia City seemed sadly inadequate to the task at hand.

He heard a pistol shot behind him and reined up his horse. Turning, he caught sight of Hoss bearing down on him at a full gallop. Chubby was pushing his limits to carry the big man at the speed he was demanding. The large horse was laid out in full flight and still Hoss urged him forward.

Ben knew even before Hoss reined up in front of him something had happened. It would take something horrendous to make Hoss abuse his horse.

"Pa, Raleigh recognized that guy as the card shark from Hattan. He and Adam had words about a poker bet last night. There are no other people. He’s the one that poisoned Adam."

Ben’s face darkened. "I’ll kill him."

"Raleigh’s taking him to Roy Coffee. That’s not what’s important now." Hoss stopped to grab his breath. "Pa, the bastard gave Adam a choice. He could go to the cabin, meet you and get the antidote, or, he could go to this ranch on the other side of Hattan and stop a dozen men from slaughtering anthrax ridden cattle and exposing themselves to the disease."

Ben stared at his son. "He might not be at the cabin."

Hoss shook his head. "Pa, you know damn well where he is."

"If we guess wrong, he’ll die." Ben looked at his hands as they held the reins of his horse. "We could split up. You could go to the cabin, I could try for the ranch."

"Who takes the antidote?" Hoss nodded towards Ben’s vest pocket. "There’s only one chance, Pa. We have to guess right."

Ben nodded and kicked his horse back into a gallop. They’d have another hour’s ride til they had to decide which way to go.

Adam gave up trying to read the sun as to time. It seemed an eon had passed since this afternoon’s almost lunch of jerky. Sometimes Hoss rode with him, sometimes Joe, sometimes both, sometimes none...but not his father. His father was at the cabin waiting for him.

Adam fell forward in the saddle as his stomach heaved again. The sweat poured down his face from the strain and the fever. He tried to straighten back up but a muscle cramp caught in his back forcing him to scream in pain. "God, I want to rest."

He felt himself slipping off to the one side and pushed back onto the center of the plodding animal. The sounds of people shouting came to his ears, but he didn’t look up. He’d heard the hallucinations before. He wanted Hoss to come back and take him fishing. Most of all, he wanted it to end.

"Which way, Pa?" Hoss gave his father a worried look. "Which way do we go?"

Ben stared at the map in his hand and then down each of the roads at the fork. He wet his lips and closed his eyes. Opening them again, he shoved the map into his pocket and pointed down the left fork. "That way."

"You sure?" Hoss looked almost longingly in the other direction. "Ya gotta be sure."

"I’m as sure as a father can be about his son." Ben nodded towards the left fork. "He’s there."

Hoss pressed his lips together and nodded in agreement. "Let’s go."

***

Adam fell off the horse. He laid in the dusty area in front of the house trying to remember why he’d come to this place. Where was Hoss and Joe? They’d been with him.

"You sick, Mister?" The young man who leaned over him had a kindly concerned face.

"Don’t touch the cattle." Adam croaked the words and tried to grab for the boy’s hand. "Anthrax."

"What?" An older man appeared next to the boy. "What anthrax?"

"The cattle." Adam fell back into the dirt. "They’re sick. You need to shoot and bury but don’t touch them. You touch them, you’ll get sick."

"Is that what happened to you, Mister?" The boy pulled at his arm trying to get him to sit up.

Adam shook his head. "I’ve been… poisoned. You can’t help me. Just don’t… don’t touch….touch..."

"I understand, son." The man lifted Adam in his arms. "You rest. I understand."

Smiling, Adam closed his eyes and fell against his chest. "Pa’s …waiting….."
 
 

Ben rode into the front yard of the ranch house afraid to ask and afraid not to ask. The men stood around in groups talking in hushed tones. No work was being done or looked like was planned to be done. Hoss dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching rail. After a few minutes, Ben did the same.

The door opened and a man in his fifties came out onto the porch. "Are you Ben Cartwright by any chance?"

Ben nodded slowly not taking his eyes from the man’s face. "I am."

"Your boy warned us about the anthrax. We’re very grateful."

Ben fumbled in his vest pocket and pulled out the small vial of antidote. "He needs to have this."

The man shook his head sadly. "A cruel joke. Manow has a real mean streak."

"What do you mean?" Ben held out the vial. "My son needs this or he’s going to die."

"Mr. Cartwright, Manow is my employer. He came to me yesterday morning and asked about something to kill rats. I gave him some dried nightshade." The man shook his head. "God help me, I thought he really wanted to kill rats."

"Nightshade. That’s what he gave, Adam?" Ben swallowed. "There is no antidote for nightshade."

The man nodded in agreement. "You’re right. My guess is you’re holding a vial of creek water."

Hoss pushed past the men to barrel into the house.

"Adam?" Ben sat down heavily on the porch. "My son?"

"He’s still with us. He’s a big man. The dose I gave Manow was for a few rats."

Ben left the vial fall to the ground. "He never intended for us to make it."

"He’s a sick man. Somehow, he probably thought if he got Adam to make the decision not to tell us about the anthrax that it would somehow absolve him from his responsibility."

"You’re an educated man." Ben stared at him. "What are you doing butchering cattle?"

"I was a professor at the university in Charleston when the war broke out. I didn’t believe in the war, so I came west. Haven’t had a lot of luck finding my niche. I was actually happy to take this job." The man shook his head sadly. "Must have tickled him no end to get me to kill a man when I came so far to avoid just that."

Ben stood up and walked into the house. Suddenly, he felt old. He could hear Hoss talking to his brother and moved towards the sound. The big man was down on one leg, his mouth pressed close to his brother’s ear talking what sounded like nonsense words.

Ben sat heavily on the chair next to the bed and patted Hoss on the back. "It’s up to God now. We need to wait."

Hoss gave him a long look. "We need to fight. If we don’t leave him alone, he won’t go."

Ben looked into the hope that filled Hoss’s eyes. He might not be able to do anything for his oldest son, but he had two sons left. "Okay, Hoss, we’ll talk to him. We’ll talk to him as long as you like."

He dropped his hand onto the dark curls and pressed his lips to the damp forehead. "What’s it going to be, Adam? Hmm? Want me to tell you the story of King Arthur one more time?

Hoss smiled up at his father. "He’ll like that. He won’t leave us if he knows we’re here."

Manow stared out the cell door at the sheriff. "How long you plan to keep me here?"

"Til the circuit judge comes by." Roy Coffee glared at him. "Just sit there and be glad I took an oath of office. Adam Cartwright is a friend of mine."

"You have no proof I did anything." Manow tested the cell bars for the hundredth time. "All you have is the word of two men who tried to use a branding iron on me. A man will say just about anything to keep from having a brand burned into his hide."

"We’ll find something to nail you on, Manow. I’ll be sure to look for it." Roy tried once again to sort the wanted posters out on his desk. Giving up, he went to look out the window again. Letting out a whoop, he threw open the office door and bounded out like a man half his age. Minutes later, he was back. "Manow, you’re going to prison and I couldn’t be happier."

"You’ve got nothing." Manow laid back on the cot. "What I told those guys was obtained under duress."

"Oh, but they have me to tell them what happened, friend." The warm baritone carried in the small area.

Manow shot off the cot and stared in horror as Adam Cartwright walked into the jailhouse office. "No way."

Adam smiled at him. "Remember our little discussion? I told you then, it’s not if you win or lose that counts. It’s how you play the game."

Manow sank down onto the cot. "You cheated again. I don’t know how but you did."

"It isn’t cheating to hold onto a winning hand."

Manow glared at him with an undisguised hatred. "Just out of curiosity, old man. Where’d you ride to?"

Adam gave him a long look before answering. "If you have to ask the question, you wouldn’t understand the answer." Turning his back on Manow, Adam walked out the door into the sunshine.