The Frail Branch

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Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings. Victor Hugo

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Chapter One

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Hoss Cartwright shook his head and remarked, "Look at that, Adam. Just like a butterfly."

The boy's remark elicited a snort from his companion. "Butterfly? I disagree. A butterfly floats elegantly upon the wind, lighting gently and gracefully for only the briefest of moments before once again returning to the sky. I'd say this one is more like a toad."

As he spoke, there was a decided 'squish' of mud, accompanied by an exhilarated hoot and holler.

"You got it right, Adam," Hoss exclaimed. "Look at that little toady hop!"

The two of them were watching their baby brother – literally 'watching' him while their pa and ma went into the settlement to visit Paul Martin and his wife. Pa'd said they might even stay overnight if it got too late. That left him and Adam free to do pretty much whatever they wanted to – with the exception of the fact that they had to mind their inquisitive, unstoppable, exasperatin' and adorable little brother.

They'd decided the best thing to do was wear him out.

Ten-year-old Hoss lifted his head to look at the sky. The sun was slippin' down toward the horizon, its last gasp of light paintin' the majestic mountains to the north of their property copper as the bottom of one of Hop Sing's pots. Dropping his eyes, he fastened them on his little brother who was joyfully – mostly because he knew Ma would kill him if she found out – hopping from one mud puddle to the next, landing with gusto and sending geysers of the wet brown stuff up into the air.

Hoss let out a little sigh. "You s'pose he's ever gonna wear out?"

Adam grinned. "You know Little Joe. He's like a cook stove fire. Blazing all day and then out in a second."

A smile – perhaps a bit of a wicked one – spread over Hoss' chubby cheeks. "Yeah…."

His older brother leaned his weight on the fence that ringed the field. "We'll let him splash for a few more minutes and then race him to the house. That should about do it."

So far Little Joe had rode horses, roped fences, dressed up as an Indian, shot both of them with stick arrows and tied them up as his captives, and then put on Adam's black hat and become a sheriff and freed them. He'd done his own chores and helped with theirs where he could. Hoss snorted. Adam chopped wood and had baby brother haul the pieces over to the pile – one at a time! Little Joe thought it was great fun, of course, but both of them could tell – by the end – he was beginnin' to wear down.

That's when they'd rewarded him with a trip to the field out back of the house where Hop Sing planted his corn. It had rained the night before and the pasture was plentiful with puddles and the perfect place to let the four-year-old whirlwind use up the last of his energy.

Hoss drew in a breath and held it in anticipation of what was to come. After they bedded Joe down, Adam was gonna teach him how to play chess! He already knew how to play checkers, but chess, well, knowin' how to play that made a man feel…important somehow.

And smart.

His brother nudged him. "Hoss."

"Huh?"

Adam indicated the field. Little Joe was sittin' in the middle of a puddle, unmovin'. As he watched the little boy's head went down and then snapped up.

And then went down again.

Older brother tipped his hat. "I think it's time for the sheriff to come to the rescue."

Hoss shook his head as he looked at the soggy field. "You're gonna be muddy as the Mississippi."

Adam grinned as he put one hand on the fence rail and hopped over.

"It will all come off in the wash."

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The 'wash' took longer than either he or Hoss had hoped. Little Joe was a dead weight in the teenager's arms as he plucked him out of the mud puddle and carried him home. Unfortunately, the water in the tub revived the tiny boy and it was another hour before he and Hoss finally took their respective positions at the chess board in front of the fire.

He'd forgotten about Marie's ritual. First came the washing and drying, and then the struggle to get Little Joe into his night clothes. Joe insisted that his mama let him sleep 'nakibud' and ran around the room to escape the dreaded garment, which Pa insisted on. After baby brother was corralled and clothed, that engendered a five minute talk on lying and its consequences. Then there was the bedtime story and prayers and a glass of water and a quick snack from the kitchen and….

Adam leaned back and let out a sigh. "Hoss?"

His young brother looked up from the chess board. "Yeah?"

"If I ever decide to have children, I want you to remind me of tonight."

Hoss chuckled. "Little Joe sure is a handful, ain't he?"

The teenager opened his mouth to correct his brother's grammar, but let it go with a second sigh. Hoss spent a lot of his time around the hands and, for some reason, Pa seemed more amused by his colloquial speech than annoyed.

So who was he to argue?

"He certainly is," he said as he leaned in and moved his knight.

"Hey! I thought you said the horse had to move over one and up two. You just moved it over two and up one!"

The subtleties of chess were difficult for adults. Hoss was really doing well, though he could tell his brother would have preferred to be playing checkers.

"It can do both," he replied.

Hoss scowled. "That ain't fair."

That made him laugh. "I suppose it isn't, but then life isn't fair."

At that moment a bolt of lightning cut through the night sky, striking not too far in the distance. It made them both jump. The rain had started up again shortly after they'd come in from the field and it had been raining ever since.

"Wow! That was a big one!" Hoss exclaimed as he jumped up and went into the dining room to look out the window. "That there Zeus you was talkin' about sure picked a big bolt to toss this time!"

Hoss wasn't afraid of storms, but he wasn't too fond of lightning. They'd had a hand struck once. The man survived but he'd never been the same. He bore hideous scars from the burns and was unable to control his left side. The trauma of that event left Hoss frightened of storms and Little Joe terrified of them.

Speaking of which….

"That'll do it for Little Joe," Hoss said as he came back. He wasn't exactly frowning, but they both knew what it meant.

Another postponement of their plans.

Adam rose to his feet and looked toward the stair. "Did you hear him?"

"Nope. But it won't be long." He turned toward the window. "That storms comin' this way."

As his brother spoke, there was another crack of lightning – closer this time. "I better go up and see of –"

"Adam?" a tiny voice said. "I's scared."

Little Joe had made an appearance at the top of the staircase. His golden blond curls looked like they'd been caught in a whirlwind. His blue and white night shirt – which once, many years before, had been his – was wrapped around his tiny frame like a shroud; its tail dangling perilously on the ground.

That was all he would need – to have his baby brother tumble down the stairs!

"Little Joe, stay where you are!" the teenager ordered as he rose and started for the staircase.

Joe turned and looked at the window at the end of the hall just as another bolt struck. "But I's scared, Adam!" he insisted as he began to move. "The lighting is gonna come in the window and get me!"

"The lightning won't get you, Little Joe. I promise." Thanks, Pa, Adam thought as he continued to move. He remembered that talk. Pa had told them all to stay away from the windows during a storm.

Joe was nowhere near the window.

"You don't know nothin'!" baby brother declared indignantly. "Papa's always right. I want Papa!"

Adam winced as Joe started down the stairs. The tangle that was his bare feet and nightshirt tail was bound to trip him up within a few seconds. Little Joe pulled up short as another bolt struck, announcing the close proximity of the storm. Then his eyes went wide and he started to run – and tripped –

And fell straight into his arms.

Adam did a three-sixty and turned around and sat down heavily on the step, clutching his brother to his chest. The whole thing had knocked the wind out of him and so he remained where he was as Little Joe began to sniff, and then to shudder, and then to wail.

It was at that moment that the knock came at the door.

Hoss turned toward it. His head snapped that way.

Neither of them moved.

"Should I…should I open it, Adam?" his young brother asked with trepidation.

Outside the wind and water were striking withering blows against the ranch house. The storm was at its height. Anyone caught out in it was in danger of their lives.

Still, he was alone in the house with his two young brothers. Hop Sing had gone along with their parents to the settlement to visit his parents. Hop Ling, his father was ill. When Pa hesitated about going, he'd stood up to the older man and told him he was seventeen now and old enough to look after his brothers alone.

Now he wished he was twelve.

"Adam?"

"Come here and take Little Joe," he said even as the knocking resumed. "I'll see who it is."

Little Joe's fingers grasped the fabric of his deep wine shirt as he spoke, twisting his collar so tightly Adam thought he might choke. Even though the little boy had thought he was minced meat when compared to Pa two seconds before, now it seemed he was vital to his survival.

"Noooooo!" Joe wailed, digging in even deeper.

Hoss sat down beside them and touched Joe's arm. "Hey, there, Little Joe. You remember that game you and I like to play whenever it's stormin'? You wanta play it now?"

Joe's head surfaced from his shirt long enough for the little boy to peer over his arm at his brother.

He shook his head.

"Ah, come on, Joe. You know, I'm skeered of storms too. I need you to help me." Hoss held out his hand. "How's about we hide under Pa's bed and play that game?"

The teenager hid his smile as he felt his baby brother relax – just a bit. Hoss always knew just whatto say to Little Joe. Not only was the game a brilliant idea to calm the little boy, but middle brother knew that Joe would not be able to resist doing what he was not supposed to – which was being in the room Pa and Marie shared whenthey were not in it.

"Come on," Hoss coaxed, wiggling his fingers. "Let's go."

Little Joe hesitated only a second before scrambling out of his arms and into Hoss'. As he did, a second series of knocks sounded on the heavy wooden door. Adam watched the pair ascend the stair and turn the corner before he descended. Once there, he paused long enough to pick his pistol up from the credenza, and then – with some trepidation – opened it.

The man looked like he'd been caught in a flash flood. It took Adam a second to recognize him since his hat was tipped down so the rain could run off and he was buried in a slicker.

"Deputy Coffee?" he asked, his tone somewhere near incredulous. "What are you doing out here at this time of night – and in this storm?"

Roy sniffed. "Mind if I come in, boy?"

Adam frowned and stepped back. "Of course. I should have offered. Forgive me, you…startled me."

"I know it and I'm sorry for it, son," the lawman said as he stepped inside and removed his hat.

"The fire's hot. Why don't you go over there and warm up." He started for the kitchen. "I'll get you something hot to drink."

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. "There's no time, boy. I come here to deliver a message from your pa and then I got other folks to see."

Adam turned back. "A message?"

Roy nodded. "I'm afraid your ma and pa ain't comin' home tonight."

"I knew that was a possibility." Adam's brow furrowed. "Pa wouldn't send you out here just to tell me that."

"No, son, I don't s'pose as he would." Roy hesitated. "I think I will take this old carcass over to the fire for a minute if you don't mind."

"How about the coffee?"

The lawman thought a moment and then grinned. "Okay, you talked me into it."

Adam went to the kitchen and quickly returned. Roy thanked him for the coffee and sipped it slowly before speaking.

"Those little brothers of yours in bed?"

"They're hiding under Pa's," the teenager replied with a smile. "Hoss' idea."

Roy nodded as he placed the empty cup on the sofa table. "You pa was worried about the little one. Said he was scared of storms."

"Little Joe will be all right with Hoss." Adam took a seat on the settee. "Now, what's this about a message from Pa?"

"Your ma and pa are at the Martin's." Roy paused. "Your ma's not feelin' too good."

"Marie was fine when they left."

"That's what Ben said. Seems she got to feelin' bad on the trip in. Your pa had to help her out of the wagon and into the house." The lawman met his puzzled gaze. "I ain't gonna mice words, Adam. Paul thinks it's influenza."

Influenza.

Good Lord.

Adam sucked in a breath. "Is he sure?"

Roy nodded. "You knew Hop Sing's pa was sick?"

"Yes. He was going to visit him and…." Adam's voice trailed off. "Oh."

"Seems it's runnin' through China town. The people in the settlement, well, they're sayin' it came over on a ship bringing Chinese immigrants here."

Adam knew what that meant. "Is Hop Sing okay?"

"Safe, you mean?" Roy shrugged. "Safe as can be. Robert's got men on the streets keepin' watch for trouble."

'Robert' was Sheriff Robert Olin. He was a tough, savvy man who had taken up the mantle of sheriff in the settlement and taken on policing its hard-bitten, hard-living and even harder-drinking citizens.

"Have the Chinese been threatened?"

Roy nodded as he rose to his feet. "One business burned down, two men beaten, and it's only gonna get worse. It don't take much to turn ordinary people into a mob when they're scared for their lives."

Sophocles had said, 'To him who is in fear, everything rustles'. The philosopher was right. Roy was right too. In the space of a heartbeat, for everyone in Gold Hill, their world had changed.

His world had changed.

"Has Paul quarantined Pa and Marie?"

The lawman nodded. "He's shut Chinatown down too. And son, the doctor's quarantined you and your brothers." The older man's look was sympathetic. "I already told the boys in the bunkhouse they'd best give the house a wide berth."

Adam sucked in a breath. He hadn't thought of that. If Marie was ill, then they too had been exposed.

"Any of them feeling ill?"

Roy pursed his lips. He shook his head.

"How long?" the teenager asked as he swallowed over his rising fear. "How long are we quarantined?"

"Paul says it's best to give it a week. Seems it usually shows up one to three days after a person's been exposed."

"Then you're taking a risk coming here."

Roy Coffee laughed as he headed for the door. He clutched the handle and opened it to the wild night outside before replying. "I'm countin' on the fact that God protects fools, drunks, little children – and ornery lawmen." When he said nothing, the deputy inquired, "Adam?"

He'd paled he was sure.

'Little children'.

Marie would have been closest to Little Joe.

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