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Title:The Broken Road
Author: Chaps1870
Warnings: Slash
Pairings: Jarrod/Adam
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Two old friends discover they share more than just a simple friendship
Disclaimer: This story is for entertainment only and not intended to infringe on the holders of rights of The Big Valley or Bonanza.
Chapter 7
Adam was thrown in the buckboard after several more blows to his body and a stern warning, ‘Don’t come back’. Ciego never said a word, but wondered curiously what the tall, dark stranger could have done to deserve such a rude farewell. Nick gave him parting instructions, “Be sure he’s on the train before you leave.”
“Si, Senor. I will see to it.”
Nick stepped back and joined Heath as they watched the wagon pull out. He’d never seen Heath react so strongly to something, but news of Jarrod’s sexual preference had lit a match under his little brother. Sure Nick was angry and confused, but Heath was downright hostile about it. Heath had managed to strike Adam several times on the way from Jarrod’s room and there was no pulling of his punches. They were well placed and meant to hurt. Nick was glad when they reached the wagon, afraid that Heath would kill Adam if he’d had much more time. He looked at Heath now and could still see the fury in the young man’s eyes, “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”
Heath shook his head, and turned towards the house, “No!”
Grabbing Heath by the shoulder, Nick spun him around, “What do you mean… no? I ain’t never seen you take after a man like that. Somethin’ got in yer craw.”
His fists clenched tight to hold in his anger, Heath tried to stay calm, “I been around his kind. They take what they want with no regard for the one they’re takin’ it from. You can’t trust ‘em.”
Looking confused, Nick asked, “What do you mean his kind?”
Heath dropped his voice, so only Nick could hear, “Them that like men. Seen ‘em in prison. They’re sick. They want one thing and one thing only, and they’ll take it if they have too.”
Nick’s eyes grew wide at the dawning revelation. He gestured towards his brother and asked worriedly, “Did they...you know...with you?”
“NO! Oh they wanted to, but I had me some friends that saw to it I wasn’t bothered.” His eyes took on a vacant look as his past rushed forward, and his voice saddened, “I can still hear the screams.” Shaking himself from his reverie, Heath spoke bitterly, “Cartwright got everything he deserved. Men like him don’t deserve ta live.”
Shocked by Heath’s vehemence, Nick wondered out loud, “And Jarrod? What about Jarrod?”
Heath never even hesitated with his answer, “He ain’t no better.” Whatever Heath was feeling, Nick knew that Jarrod would never again share the bond of brotherhood with Heath. That bond had been broken and there would be no turning back. Jarrod had lost a brother today and Nick wasn’t all too sure he hadn’t lost two. His own feelings weren’t much better than Heath’s. The thought of Jarrod being with another man made his skin crawl and his stomach turn. It was so unbelievable that at least for now he could push it out of his mind. He was afraid that his own relationship with his older brother was irreparably damaged. With a heavy heart he followed Heath back into the house and trudged his way upstairs alone. Turning into Jarrod’s room, he found Silas trying to help him back into bed. Nick rushed forward and the two of them managed to get him settled once more and he quickly checked to make sure no wounds were reopened in the fall. War raged in Nick as he fought with his mind. He didn’t want to see Jarrod hurting but he didn’t feel all too thrilled to be in the same room with him. His mother was nowhere to be seen and Heath certainly wouldn’t be tending to any of Jarrod’s needs. Resigned to caring for his brother, Nick settled on the chair farthest from the bed and watched Jarrod sleep.
Adam barely made it onto the train, and only because Ciego helped him the entire way. His hands were useless to him and his body was bruised and battered from Heath’s fists. Every breath was agony and he gratefully took an empty seat, easing himself down with a groan of pain. It was impossible to draw a deep breath and Adam was certain his ribs were broke. He needed to get out of his clothes, still covered in Jarrod’s blood, but could not find the energy to move. Sleep eluded him on the four-hour ride to Sacramento, pain and memories of Jarrod kept his mind from resting. When the train pulled into the depot near midnight, he knew he wasn’t going any farther east tonight.
Something as simple as carrying his own bag was made almost impossible by his injured hands, damaged ribs and aching stomach. Sweat soaked clothes cooled in the night air and he shivered as he stepped gingerly from the train. Pain was a constant companion now and even the bench outside the station was more appealing than riding on the train for one more minute. With a heavy sigh that only brought more pain, Adam wrapped his free hand around his ribs and found a ride to a hotel. An hour later he sank into bed totally exhausted and only a small dose of laudanum snagged from the hotel clerk took the pain away long enough to let him sleep.
Tossing and turning in a drug induced sleep, Adam was haunted by images of Jarrod trapped in the wire and the endless ride home. Although he was sure that sleep was fleeting, it was well past noon the following day before he was roused from that sleep by the pounding on his door. “Hey mister, you in there?”
Rolling over, Adam was assaulted by the stabbing pain in his ribs and he gasped for air only to be stopped short of deep breaths by more pain. Sweat gathered on his brow as he fought for oxygen, and only by concentrating did he keep from panicking. Very carefully he slid to the edge of the bed and eased himself up. It was painful ordeal just getting to his feet and shuffling to the door seemed to take forever. Leaning heavily into the wall he cautiously unlocked the door and found himself looking down on a boy no more than ten or eleven. Towheaded and wide eyed, the youngster asked, “My pa sent me up ta check on ya, said you wasn’t lookin’ too good last night. He wanted ta know if ya needed a doctor.”
Adam’s first thought was to refuse the offer but he knew there would be no traveling today if he didn’t at least get his ribs bound. His hands also needed attention and his quick departure from Stockton hadn’t accounted for their care. He sighed in resignation, “Probably wouldn’t hurt. First I’d like to clean up. Can you tell me where I can get a bath?”
The boy nodded, anxious to help, “Sure mister. I’ll tell my pa you want one and he’ll have someone fix ya up. It’s downstairs off the kitchen.”
Looking at the youngster, Adam forced a smile at his youthful exuberance, “What’s your name, boy?”
“Matthew. You can call me Matt, most folks do.”
Motioning inside the room, Adam beckoned the boy for help, “Over there is my bag. You think you can grab me some clean clothes and carry ‘em downstairs for me.” His hands, aching and swollen, were useless today, even worse than yesterday. He’d avoided thinking about yesterday up ‘til now and he let his mind drift to the wonderful time he and Jarrod had shared. Sadness welled up at what would never be and it must have shown on his face.
“Hey mister, you alright?”
Blinking away the cobwebs, Adam nodded at Matt, “Yeah. Why don’t you tell your Pa I’d like a bath and see if he can call on the doctor for me.” The boy nodded, picked up the clothes he’d gathered for Adam and hurried to find his father. Adam made his way ever so slowly after him. It was two hours before he was back in his room, his hands cleaned and rebandaged and his ribs bound tightly to prevent any further damage. The doctor confirmed three broken ribs and a multitude of bruises and as much as Adam wanted to just get home, there was no way he was traveling today. Maybe with the added rest, he’d be able to make the remainder of the journey tomorrow. Throwing his arm over his eyes, he blocked out the midday sun, but couldn’t block out the memories of Jarrod and sleep was a long time coming.
Jarrod lay in bed, burning with fever. As his body shook with chills he wondered distantly why no one cared about his discomfort. Eyes glazed with pain, he looked about his room and found Nick stretched out in the chair across the room asleep. He tried to call out, but his throat was too dry and the only sound he could make was a raspy croak. Thirst and the need to quell the fire forced him to sit up and his hand trembled as he reached for the water at his bedside. Reaching for the glass, it slipped from his grasp and the sudden crash startled Nick from his sleep.
Seeing Jarrod sitting up brought Nick rushing to the bedside. As he glanced down at his brother, Nick could see the flush of fever on his face and he tentatively reached out to check his forehead. Jarrod met Nick’s eyes and spoke in a strangled whisper, “Hot.”
“I know. You got a fever goin’ there.” Nick retrieved the glass and refilled it before handing it to Jarrod. He watched as he drank greedily of the cool water then slump back onto the bed, shivering uncontrollably. Covering him up, Nick stood. “I’m gonna go get Mother. I’ll be right back.”
Jarrod lay in bed in a daze of pain and fever. His mind drifted between reality and delirium and forgetting that Nick had even been there, he wondered why no one was helping him. Did they really hate him so much that they couldn’t see clear to take care of him? In desperation he called out for the one he knew wouldn’t leave him, “Adam?” Silence was the only response and he opened his eyes, looking around for some sort of help. Someone to take away the heat that threatened to consume him. Finding the room empty, he shook his head in confusion. Nothing in his fever addled mind made any sense and he reached for the glass of water to quench his thirst, furious that they didn’t care enough to even see to his most basic needs. For several minutes his thoughts shifted back and forth, confusing and frustrating him. Exhausted by the effort, he slumped back on the bed, completely forgetting even his own thirst. His fever raged on and he curled up against the increasing pain, wondering why his family had abandoned him when he needed them most.
Nick returned with their mother and it was obvious by her red and puffy eyes that sleep had not found her this night. One look at Jarrod and her mothering instinct took over, caring for him reflexively without much thought for anything else. She wiped down his hot dry skin, seemingly oblivious to the pain her actions were causing. Covered with so many punctures, scrapes and cuts it was impossible not to cause him pain and yet Victoria worked at cooling him, so lost in her own world she failed to notice Jarrod’s increasing distress. Nick couldn’t believe what he was seeing and he shook his head at the disturbing sight. Unable to watch any longer he placed a firm hand on hers, stopping the unintentional agony for Jarrod, “Mother. I think we should try to get him to take some laudanum.”
Victoria looked at the hand holding hers and lifting her head, looked in Nick’s eyes, “Did you say something?”
Speaking softly, not wanting to alarm her, Nick answered, “You’re hurting him, Mother. He needs something for the pain.”
Shaken from her thoughts, Victoria looked down and saw Jarrod breathing harshly and tossing for some sort of relief from both pain and fever. The towel she’d been using to cool him was pink with the blood of his injuries and she gasped at the sight. Tears welled up and she admonished her own insensitivity, then dropped her head sorrowfully, “I’m so sorry, Jarrod.”
Nick sighed in relief, glad she had returned to herself. Taking over, he grabbed the laudanum and handed it to her, “Here Mother. I’ll set him up so you can get some into him.”
Nodding, Victoria managed to calm her shaky hands and get enough medicine in the spoon to help her eldest with his pain. Nick lifted Jarrod’s head and they got him to swallow the foul tasting liquid, followed by a full glass of water. Jarrod drank it all and let them help him back down. He cried out when his body touched the bed but the laudanum was taking hold and he soon found himself drifting once more, the pain easing away with every minute. All that remained was the unrelenting heat, but that too was made tolerable by the cool dampness that followed. Content that he wasn’t being left alone, he let the darkness come and comfort him.
Chapter 8
Adam made it to Virginia City, but he remembered little of the journey. By the time the train pulled into the depot, his pain and fever were making it hard to concentrate on anything more than putting one foot in front of the other. Stepping gingerly from the train, he sighed in relief at the sight of his younger brother Hoss waiting for him. Hoss took one look at him, and rushed to help, “You don’t look so good big brother.”
Flashing him a halfhearted smile, Adam shook his head, “Took a little beating this trip. You wanna get my bag.” He held up his bandaged hands and Hoss nodded, boarding the train to retrieve Adam’s bag without question. Adam was suddenly very glad it was Hoss that met him at the station and not Pa. Hoss may question him about his injuries, but he’d let it go after that, accepting that he didn’t want to talk about it. It usually took a lot more to convince his father he wasn’t going to talk about it until he was ready and not a second sooner. And Joe, well he’d pester him until Pa finally stepped in and insisted he leave him alone. Even then he’d get all indignant like he was missing out on something important. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining to any off them how he’d managed to get so beat up.
Hoss found Adam lounging on the nearest bench and ambled over to rouse him with a gentle nudge to his shoulder, “Hey Adam, ya ready?”
Opening his eyes, Adam let Hoss help him to his feet and they slowly made their way to the horses. One look at his ride and Adam began to sweat. Hoss saw his hesitation and knew his big brother was hurting awful bad not to want to ride. Guiding him back on to the boardwalk, Hoss helped him sit back down, “I didn’t know ya was hurt. I’ll go get us a wagon.”
Adam shook his head wearily. “I ain’t gonna make it home, Hoss.” It was a hard admission, but Adam gripped his side tightly as he got back to his feet and told his younger brother, “Just get me a room.”
“Sure thing, Adam. I’ll get ya settled and go fer Pa.” They made it to his room, and Hoss got him undressed and in bed. Adam remained stoic, but Hoss wasn’t fooled. His brother was in a lot of pain and they’d made the right decision to stay in town.
“Might as well get the doc on your way outta town. If you don’t, Pa will and I much rather deal with Paul before Pa gets here.”
“Yeah, I can see where ya might. You wanna tell me what happened?”
Holding up his hands, Adam sighed, “Got caught in some fence wire.”
Hoss shook his head, “And the rest of ya?”
“Sent outta town on the rail,” joked Adam. It came off flat, and he knew it. “I got waylaid and they didn’t seem too friendly so I boarded the train and came home.”
Hoss wasn’t the least bit convinced but he knew his brother well enough to know that he’d get only what Adam was willing to tell and no amount of questioning would change that. Maybe he’d be more forthcoming when Pa got to him. Shrugging it off, he grabbed his hat and headed for the door. “I’ll send Doc over, you might as well get some rest.” Adam was already drifting off, the soft unmoving bed too much a temptation for his tired and aching body.
It wasn’t long before his sleep was interrupted by a knock on his door. He fought to sit up as he called out, “Come in.”
Paul Martin, long time friend of the Cartwrights and town doctor, was surprised to be making a call on Adam in town and he wondered just how bad he was hurt if he couldn’t make the trip home. “Heard you got in some trouble on your way home.” Making his way to the bed, he set his bag down and asked, “Let’s take a look. You look a little flushed.” Feeling Adam’s forehead, his initial diagnosis was easily confirmed by the heat on the back of his hand, “Well for starters you have a fever.” Looking at Adam’s hands, he opened his bag and using his scissors, began to cut away the bandages.
They were red and swollen from infection and he asked, “How’d you cut them up like that?”
Adam hissed through gritted teeth as Paul probed the area, “Barbed wire.”
The doctor continued to work, asking questions as he went and Adam was relieved when they finally finished up and he was allowed to rest again. His hands throbbed in time to his heartbeat and he didn’t resist the painkiller Paul offered. It not only relieved the pain in his hands, but also sent him drifting in a place free of the pain in his heart. He let the medicine do its job, never hearing his father come in an hour later. The next few days, for both Jarrod and Adam, were spent drifting in and out of consciousness. Fever raged within and neither one had the will to fight against it. They lost themselves to the comfort that darkness brought and only their family’s insistence and round the clock care brought them back.
Jarrod gazed down at the multitude of bandages that covered his body. After a week of drifting in and out of sleep, he could finally see how badly he’d been torn up. Most of his wounds were already healing, but a few of the deeper cuts would take more time. Doctor Merar was deeply concerned about the lack of mobility in a couple of his fingers. His left hand had been cut deeply and the last two fingers were useless to him. Howard tried to be optimistic, but he informed Jarrod that because of the extent of damage, there was a chance that they may never regain mobility. Tired of the pitiful looks every time his family entered the room, Jarrod insisted Howard keep this information between them.
As he lay in bed thinking, his mind drifted to Adam and despite the turmoil he was dealing with, a small smile graced his lips. If he closed his eyes, he could see his handsome face and dimpled smile. He let the images of their short time together ease away the tension and he welcomed the stirring in his groin as the pictures in his mind grew in intensity. Without thought his hand slipped into his cotton pajamas and stroked the semi hard flesh to its full length. He let the memory of Adam’s hands guide him until a sharp knock on his door startled him. Jerking away his hand, he shifted to his side to hide his aroused state and tried to calm his ragged breath. His eyes darted anxiously to the door and any lingering hardness vanished when his mother entered his room. Embarrassed, he tried to feign sleep but she wasn’t fooled. Setting his lunch tray on the nightstand, Victoria busied herself with his drapes. “I think it’s time we had a talk.” Her tone left no room for argument and he noted the tinge of disappointment in her voice.
His eyes still closed, Jarrod spoke, “I’m sorry.”
“What? Sorry you did it or sorry you got caught?” When Jarrod remained silent, Victoria sighed, “How could you do this? Don’t you understand how wrong it is? What would happen if anyone found out?”
“Is that what you’re worried about, someone finding out?” asked Jarrod very softly, dreading her reply.
Shaking her head, Victoria sighed, “Of course I’m worried. I know what the penalty is as well as you do.” Jarrod paled, thinking about the consequences. The law was very clear on the subject. He remembered when President Jefferson changed the original death penalty to castration and the jokes that circulated after.
“It’s not just what they would do to you. What you’ve done is morally wrong Jarrod. I thought I knew you, but this...this is totally unexpected. It goes against all we believe in.”
“I’m still the same person, Mother.”
Lifting her head, she quickly hid her doubt and spoke with her usual authority, “We’ll just have to get you some help is all. I’m sure we can find a doctor that can cure this or maybe we can call on the reverend to talk to you.”
“I don’t need to talk to anyone,” said Jarrod defiantly.
“We can’t have this go on. Even your father’s good name will not spare this family if word gets out. We can’t risk losing all he worked for with this...this sickness.”
Sitting up, Jarrod kept his tone respectful, but his message was clear, “And how do you propose to keep it secret and still have me see a doctor or the reverend? This isn’t something that suddenly appeared out of nowhere Mother.”
Victoria looked at him in surprise, “What are you saying?”
Jarrod shook his head and sighed heavily, “It’s always been there, I just managed to keep it hidden, even from myself.”
“Fine, then you’ll just have to hide it again. We won’t speak of it.” With no other words, his mother turned and left his room, anxious to avoid any further discussion on the matter.
Hoss cautiously looked in the barn door to see if Adam was still in the vicinity. His older brother had been almost impossible to live with since his return home but enough was enough. The first week wasn’t bad, he was too sick to do much interacting with any of them. Now that he was up and moving around, albeit slowly, he was moody, sullen and cantankerous. Whatever happened on his trip to San Francisco had Adam upset. He wouldn’t talk about it and being stuck inside with no release made it worse for everyone. The doctor said it would take time for his hands to heal as torn up as they were, making it impossible to do even the simplest of chores.
Not even able to write, he couldn’t do the books. Worse he couldn’t write a much needed letter to Jarrod. Adam looked up from his spot in the corner of the barn when Hoss stuck his head in the door and was tempted to duck out of sight. Taking a deep breath, he let out a loud sigh, “I’m over here, Hoss.” Avoiding him wouldn’t deter Hoss once he set his mind on something so it was better just to get it over with.
Ambling over to where Adam sat on the stack of bails, Hoss picked up a brush and worked on Chubb as he spoke to his older brother, “You wanna talk about it.”
“I can’t, Hoss.”
“Don’t seem to be helpin’ not talkin’ ‘bout it.”
Adam smiled. Too many people missed his younger brother’s intelligence because of his size, but he seldom mixed words when the simple approach worked. “I appreciate your concern Hoss, but this isn’t something I can talk about.”
“Well mopin’ and fussin’ ain’t gonna fix it either. Ain’t there nothin’ I can do for ya?” Hoss’s heart matched his size and he just wanted to help his older brother.
Holding up his hands, Adam said with frustration, “I need to be able to write and I can’t.”
Hoss flashed him a big smile, “Well heck Adam, I can write for ya. It might not be as purty as yours but you can still read it.”
Adam hesitated, not sure he could write what needed to be said and still keep his secret. At this point any letter was better than no letter, and he nodded reluctantly, “Alright Hoss. You go get some paper and I’ll think about what I want to say.”
“I’ll be right back.” Hoss hurried from the barn, happy that he was finally able to do something to relieve some of Adam’s melancholy.
Author: Chaps1870
Warnings: Slash
Pairings: Jarrod/Adam
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Two old friends discover they share more than just a simple friendship
Disclaimer: This story is for entertainment only and not intended to infringe on the holders of rights of The Big Valley or Bonanza.
Chapter 7
Adam was thrown in the buckboard after several more blows to his body and a stern warning, ‘Don’t come back’. Ciego never said a word, but wondered curiously what the tall, dark stranger could have done to deserve such a rude farewell. Nick gave him parting instructions, “Be sure he’s on the train before you leave.”
“Si, Senor. I will see to it.”
Nick stepped back and joined Heath as they watched the wagon pull out. He’d never seen Heath react so strongly to something, but news of Jarrod’s sexual preference had lit a match under his little brother. Sure Nick was angry and confused, but Heath was downright hostile about it. Heath had managed to strike Adam several times on the way from Jarrod’s room and there was no pulling of his punches. They were well placed and meant to hurt. Nick was glad when they reached the wagon, afraid that Heath would kill Adam if he’d had much more time. He looked at Heath now and could still see the fury in the young man’s eyes, “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”
Heath shook his head, and turned towards the house, “No!”
Grabbing Heath by the shoulder, Nick spun him around, “What do you mean… no? I ain’t never seen you take after a man like that. Somethin’ got in yer craw.”
His fists clenched tight to hold in his anger, Heath tried to stay calm, “I been around his kind. They take what they want with no regard for the one they’re takin’ it from. You can’t trust ‘em.”
Looking confused, Nick asked, “What do you mean his kind?”
Heath dropped his voice, so only Nick could hear, “Them that like men. Seen ‘em in prison. They’re sick. They want one thing and one thing only, and they’ll take it if they have too.”
Nick’s eyes grew wide at the dawning revelation. He gestured towards his brother and asked worriedly, “Did they...you know...with you?”
“NO! Oh they wanted to, but I had me some friends that saw to it I wasn’t bothered.” His eyes took on a vacant look as his past rushed forward, and his voice saddened, “I can still hear the screams.” Shaking himself from his reverie, Heath spoke bitterly, “Cartwright got everything he deserved. Men like him don’t deserve ta live.”
Shocked by Heath’s vehemence, Nick wondered out loud, “And Jarrod? What about Jarrod?”
Heath never even hesitated with his answer, “He ain’t no better.” Whatever Heath was feeling, Nick knew that Jarrod would never again share the bond of brotherhood with Heath. That bond had been broken and there would be no turning back. Jarrod had lost a brother today and Nick wasn’t all too sure he hadn’t lost two. His own feelings weren’t much better than Heath’s. The thought of Jarrod being with another man made his skin crawl and his stomach turn. It was so unbelievable that at least for now he could push it out of his mind. He was afraid that his own relationship with his older brother was irreparably damaged. With a heavy heart he followed Heath back into the house and trudged his way upstairs alone. Turning into Jarrod’s room, he found Silas trying to help him back into bed. Nick rushed forward and the two of them managed to get him settled once more and he quickly checked to make sure no wounds were reopened in the fall. War raged in Nick as he fought with his mind. He didn’t want to see Jarrod hurting but he didn’t feel all too thrilled to be in the same room with him. His mother was nowhere to be seen and Heath certainly wouldn’t be tending to any of Jarrod’s needs. Resigned to caring for his brother, Nick settled on the chair farthest from the bed and watched Jarrod sleep.
Adam barely made it onto the train, and only because Ciego helped him the entire way. His hands were useless to him and his body was bruised and battered from Heath’s fists. Every breath was agony and he gratefully took an empty seat, easing himself down with a groan of pain. It was impossible to draw a deep breath and Adam was certain his ribs were broke. He needed to get out of his clothes, still covered in Jarrod’s blood, but could not find the energy to move. Sleep eluded him on the four-hour ride to Sacramento, pain and memories of Jarrod kept his mind from resting. When the train pulled into the depot near midnight, he knew he wasn’t going any farther east tonight.
Something as simple as carrying his own bag was made almost impossible by his injured hands, damaged ribs and aching stomach. Sweat soaked clothes cooled in the night air and he shivered as he stepped gingerly from the train. Pain was a constant companion now and even the bench outside the station was more appealing than riding on the train for one more minute. With a heavy sigh that only brought more pain, Adam wrapped his free hand around his ribs and found a ride to a hotel. An hour later he sank into bed totally exhausted and only a small dose of laudanum snagged from the hotel clerk took the pain away long enough to let him sleep.
Tossing and turning in a drug induced sleep, Adam was haunted by images of Jarrod trapped in the wire and the endless ride home. Although he was sure that sleep was fleeting, it was well past noon the following day before he was roused from that sleep by the pounding on his door. “Hey mister, you in there?”
Rolling over, Adam was assaulted by the stabbing pain in his ribs and he gasped for air only to be stopped short of deep breaths by more pain. Sweat gathered on his brow as he fought for oxygen, and only by concentrating did he keep from panicking. Very carefully he slid to the edge of the bed and eased himself up. It was painful ordeal just getting to his feet and shuffling to the door seemed to take forever. Leaning heavily into the wall he cautiously unlocked the door and found himself looking down on a boy no more than ten or eleven. Towheaded and wide eyed, the youngster asked, “My pa sent me up ta check on ya, said you wasn’t lookin’ too good last night. He wanted ta know if ya needed a doctor.”
Adam’s first thought was to refuse the offer but he knew there would be no traveling today if he didn’t at least get his ribs bound. His hands also needed attention and his quick departure from Stockton hadn’t accounted for their care. He sighed in resignation, “Probably wouldn’t hurt. First I’d like to clean up. Can you tell me where I can get a bath?”
The boy nodded, anxious to help, “Sure mister. I’ll tell my pa you want one and he’ll have someone fix ya up. It’s downstairs off the kitchen.”
Looking at the youngster, Adam forced a smile at his youthful exuberance, “What’s your name, boy?”
“Matthew. You can call me Matt, most folks do.”
Motioning inside the room, Adam beckoned the boy for help, “Over there is my bag. You think you can grab me some clean clothes and carry ‘em downstairs for me.” His hands, aching and swollen, were useless today, even worse than yesterday. He’d avoided thinking about yesterday up ‘til now and he let his mind drift to the wonderful time he and Jarrod had shared. Sadness welled up at what would never be and it must have shown on his face.
“Hey mister, you alright?”
Blinking away the cobwebs, Adam nodded at Matt, “Yeah. Why don’t you tell your Pa I’d like a bath and see if he can call on the doctor for me.” The boy nodded, picked up the clothes he’d gathered for Adam and hurried to find his father. Adam made his way ever so slowly after him. It was two hours before he was back in his room, his hands cleaned and rebandaged and his ribs bound tightly to prevent any further damage. The doctor confirmed three broken ribs and a multitude of bruises and as much as Adam wanted to just get home, there was no way he was traveling today. Maybe with the added rest, he’d be able to make the remainder of the journey tomorrow. Throwing his arm over his eyes, he blocked out the midday sun, but couldn’t block out the memories of Jarrod and sleep was a long time coming.
Jarrod lay in bed, burning with fever. As his body shook with chills he wondered distantly why no one cared about his discomfort. Eyes glazed with pain, he looked about his room and found Nick stretched out in the chair across the room asleep. He tried to call out, but his throat was too dry and the only sound he could make was a raspy croak. Thirst and the need to quell the fire forced him to sit up and his hand trembled as he reached for the water at his bedside. Reaching for the glass, it slipped from his grasp and the sudden crash startled Nick from his sleep.
Seeing Jarrod sitting up brought Nick rushing to the bedside. As he glanced down at his brother, Nick could see the flush of fever on his face and he tentatively reached out to check his forehead. Jarrod met Nick’s eyes and spoke in a strangled whisper, “Hot.”
“I know. You got a fever goin’ there.” Nick retrieved the glass and refilled it before handing it to Jarrod. He watched as he drank greedily of the cool water then slump back onto the bed, shivering uncontrollably. Covering him up, Nick stood. “I’m gonna go get Mother. I’ll be right back.”
Jarrod lay in bed in a daze of pain and fever. His mind drifted between reality and delirium and forgetting that Nick had even been there, he wondered why no one was helping him. Did they really hate him so much that they couldn’t see clear to take care of him? In desperation he called out for the one he knew wouldn’t leave him, “Adam?” Silence was the only response and he opened his eyes, looking around for some sort of help. Someone to take away the heat that threatened to consume him. Finding the room empty, he shook his head in confusion. Nothing in his fever addled mind made any sense and he reached for the glass of water to quench his thirst, furious that they didn’t care enough to even see to his most basic needs. For several minutes his thoughts shifted back and forth, confusing and frustrating him. Exhausted by the effort, he slumped back on the bed, completely forgetting even his own thirst. His fever raged on and he curled up against the increasing pain, wondering why his family had abandoned him when he needed them most.
Nick returned with their mother and it was obvious by her red and puffy eyes that sleep had not found her this night. One look at Jarrod and her mothering instinct took over, caring for him reflexively without much thought for anything else. She wiped down his hot dry skin, seemingly oblivious to the pain her actions were causing. Covered with so many punctures, scrapes and cuts it was impossible not to cause him pain and yet Victoria worked at cooling him, so lost in her own world she failed to notice Jarrod’s increasing distress. Nick couldn’t believe what he was seeing and he shook his head at the disturbing sight. Unable to watch any longer he placed a firm hand on hers, stopping the unintentional agony for Jarrod, “Mother. I think we should try to get him to take some laudanum.”
Victoria looked at the hand holding hers and lifting her head, looked in Nick’s eyes, “Did you say something?”
Speaking softly, not wanting to alarm her, Nick answered, “You’re hurting him, Mother. He needs something for the pain.”
Shaken from her thoughts, Victoria looked down and saw Jarrod breathing harshly and tossing for some sort of relief from both pain and fever. The towel she’d been using to cool him was pink with the blood of his injuries and she gasped at the sight. Tears welled up and she admonished her own insensitivity, then dropped her head sorrowfully, “I’m so sorry, Jarrod.”
Nick sighed in relief, glad she had returned to herself. Taking over, he grabbed the laudanum and handed it to her, “Here Mother. I’ll set him up so you can get some into him.”
Nodding, Victoria managed to calm her shaky hands and get enough medicine in the spoon to help her eldest with his pain. Nick lifted Jarrod’s head and they got him to swallow the foul tasting liquid, followed by a full glass of water. Jarrod drank it all and let them help him back down. He cried out when his body touched the bed but the laudanum was taking hold and he soon found himself drifting once more, the pain easing away with every minute. All that remained was the unrelenting heat, but that too was made tolerable by the cool dampness that followed. Content that he wasn’t being left alone, he let the darkness come and comfort him.
Chapter 8
Adam made it to Virginia City, but he remembered little of the journey. By the time the train pulled into the depot, his pain and fever were making it hard to concentrate on anything more than putting one foot in front of the other. Stepping gingerly from the train, he sighed in relief at the sight of his younger brother Hoss waiting for him. Hoss took one look at him, and rushed to help, “You don’t look so good big brother.”
Flashing him a halfhearted smile, Adam shook his head, “Took a little beating this trip. You wanna get my bag.” He held up his bandaged hands and Hoss nodded, boarding the train to retrieve Adam’s bag without question. Adam was suddenly very glad it was Hoss that met him at the station and not Pa. Hoss may question him about his injuries, but he’d let it go after that, accepting that he didn’t want to talk about it. It usually took a lot more to convince his father he wasn’t going to talk about it until he was ready and not a second sooner. And Joe, well he’d pester him until Pa finally stepped in and insisted he leave him alone. Even then he’d get all indignant like he was missing out on something important. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining to any off them how he’d managed to get so beat up.
Hoss found Adam lounging on the nearest bench and ambled over to rouse him with a gentle nudge to his shoulder, “Hey Adam, ya ready?”
Opening his eyes, Adam let Hoss help him to his feet and they slowly made their way to the horses. One look at his ride and Adam began to sweat. Hoss saw his hesitation and knew his big brother was hurting awful bad not to want to ride. Guiding him back on to the boardwalk, Hoss helped him sit back down, “I didn’t know ya was hurt. I’ll go get us a wagon.”
Adam shook his head wearily. “I ain’t gonna make it home, Hoss.” It was a hard admission, but Adam gripped his side tightly as he got back to his feet and told his younger brother, “Just get me a room.”
“Sure thing, Adam. I’ll get ya settled and go fer Pa.” They made it to his room, and Hoss got him undressed and in bed. Adam remained stoic, but Hoss wasn’t fooled. His brother was in a lot of pain and they’d made the right decision to stay in town.
“Might as well get the doc on your way outta town. If you don’t, Pa will and I much rather deal with Paul before Pa gets here.”
“Yeah, I can see where ya might. You wanna tell me what happened?”
Holding up his hands, Adam sighed, “Got caught in some fence wire.”
Hoss shook his head, “And the rest of ya?”
“Sent outta town on the rail,” joked Adam. It came off flat, and he knew it. “I got waylaid and they didn’t seem too friendly so I boarded the train and came home.”
Hoss wasn’t the least bit convinced but he knew his brother well enough to know that he’d get only what Adam was willing to tell and no amount of questioning would change that. Maybe he’d be more forthcoming when Pa got to him. Shrugging it off, he grabbed his hat and headed for the door. “I’ll send Doc over, you might as well get some rest.” Adam was already drifting off, the soft unmoving bed too much a temptation for his tired and aching body.
It wasn’t long before his sleep was interrupted by a knock on his door. He fought to sit up as he called out, “Come in.”
Paul Martin, long time friend of the Cartwrights and town doctor, was surprised to be making a call on Adam in town and he wondered just how bad he was hurt if he couldn’t make the trip home. “Heard you got in some trouble on your way home.” Making his way to the bed, he set his bag down and asked, “Let’s take a look. You look a little flushed.” Feeling Adam’s forehead, his initial diagnosis was easily confirmed by the heat on the back of his hand, “Well for starters you have a fever.” Looking at Adam’s hands, he opened his bag and using his scissors, began to cut away the bandages.
They were red and swollen from infection and he asked, “How’d you cut them up like that?”
Adam hissed through gritted teeth as Paul probed the area, “Barbed wire.”
The doctor continued to work, asking questions as he went and Adam was relieved when they finally finished up and he was allowed to rest again. His hands throbbed in time to his heartbeat and he didn’t resist the painkiller Paul offered. It not only relieved the pain in his hands, but also sent him drifting in a place free of the pain in his heart. He let the medicine do its job, never hearing his father come in an hour later. The next few days, for both Jarrod and Adam, were spent drifting in and out of consciousness. Fever raged within and neither one had the will to fight against it. They lost themselves to the comfort that darkness brought and only their family’s insistence and round the clock care brought them back.
Jarrod gazed down at the multitude of bandages that covered his body. After a week of drifting in and out of sleep, he could finally see how badly he’d been torn up. Most of his wounds were already healing, but a few of the deeper cuts would take more time. Doctor Merar was deeply concerned about the lack of mobility in a couple of his fingers. His left hand had been cut deeply and the last two fingers were useless to him. Howard tried to be optimistic, but he informed Jarrod that because of the extent of damage, there was a chance that they may never regain mobility. Tired of the pitiful looks every time his family entered the room, Jarrod insisted Howard keep this information between them.
As he lay in bed thinking, his mind drifted to Adam and despite the turmoil he was dealing with, a small smile graced his lips. If he closed his eyes, he could see his handsome face and dimpled smile. He let the images of their short time together ease away the tension and he welcomed the stirring in his groin as the pictures in his mind grew in intensity. Without thought his hand slipped into his cotton pajamas and stroked the semi hard flesh to its full length. He let the memory of Adam’s hands guide him until a sharp knock on his door startled him. Jerking away his hand, he shifted to his side to hide his aroused state and tried to calm his ragged breath. His eyes darted anxiously to the door and any lingering hardness vanished when his mother entered his room. Embarrassed, he tried to feign sleep but she wasn’t fooled. Setting his lunch tray on the nightstand, Victoria busied herself with his drapes. “I think it’s time we had a talk.” Her tone left no room for argument and he noted the tinge of disappointment in her voice.
His eyes still closed, Jarrod spoke, “I’m sorry.”
“What? Sorry you did it or sorry you got caught?” When Jarrod remained silent, Victoria sighed, “How could you do this? Don’t you understand how wrong it is? What would happen if anyone found out?”
“Is that what you’re worried about, someone finding out?” asked Jarrod very softly, dreading her reply.
Shaking her head, Victoria sighed, “Of course I’m worried. I know what the penalty is as well as you do.” Jarrod paled, thinking about the consequences. The law was very clear on the subject. He remembered when President Jefferson changed the original death penalty to castration and the jokes that circulated after.
“It’s not just what they would do to you. What you’ve done is morally wrong Jarrod. I thought I knew you, but this...this is totally unexpected. It goes against all we believe in.”
“I’m still the same person, Mother.”
Lifting her head, she quickly hid her doubt and spoke with her usual authority, “We’ll just have to get you some help is all. I’m sure we can find a doctor that can cure this or maybe we can call on the reverend to talk to you.”
“I don’t need to talk to anyone,” said Jarrod defiantly.
“We can’t have this go on. Even your father’s good name will not spare this family if word gets out. We can’t risk losing all he worked for with this...this sickness.”
Sitting up, Jarrod kept his tone respectful, but his message was clear, “And how do you propose to keep it secret and still have me see a doctor or the reverend? This isn’t something that suddenly appeared out of nowhere Mother.”
Victoria looked at him in surprise, “What are you saying?”
Jarrod shook his head and sighed heavily, “It’s always been there, I just managed to keep it hidden, even from myself.”
“Fine, then you’ll just have to hide it again. We won’t speak of it.” With no other words, his mother turned and left his room, anxious to avoid any further discussion on the matter.
Hoss cautiously looked in the barn door to see if Adam was still in the vicinity. His older brother had been almost impossible to live with since his return home but enough was enough. The first week wasn’t bad, he was too sick to do much interacting with any of them. Now that he was up and moving around, albeit slowly, he was moody, sullen and cantankerous. Whatever happened on his trip to San Francisco had Adam upset. He wouldn’t talk about it and being stuck inside with no release made it worse for everyone. The doctor said it would take time for his hands to heal as torn up as they were, making it impossible to do even the simplest of chores.
Not even able to write, he couldn’t do the books. Worse he couldn’t write a much needed letter to Jarrod. Adam looked up from his spot in the corner of the barn when Hoss stuck his head in the door and was tempted to duck out of sight. Taking a deep breath, he let out a loud sigh, “I’m over here, Hoss.” Avoiding him wouldn’t deter Hoss once he set his mind on something so it was better just to get it over with.
Ambling over to where Adam sat on the stack of bails, Hoss picked up a brush and worked on Chubb as he spoke to his older brother, “You wanna talk about it.”
“I can’t, Hoss.”
“Don’t seem to be helpin’ not talkin’ ‘bout it.”
Adam smiled. Too many people missed his younger brother’s intelligence because of his size, but he seldom mixed words when the simple approach worked. “I appreciate your concern Hoss, but this isn’t something I can talk about.”
“Well mopin’ and fussin’ ain’t gonna fix it either. Ain’t there nothin’ I can do for ya?” Hoss’s heart matched his size and he just wanted to help his older brother.
Holding up his hands, Adam said with frustration, “I need to be able to write and I can’t.”
Hoss flashed him a big smile, “Well heck Adam, I can write for ya. It might not be as purty as yours but you can still read it.”
Adam hesitated, not sure he could write what needed to be said and still keep his secret. At this point any letter was better than no letter, and he nodded reluctantly, “Alright Hoss. You go get some paper and I’ll think about what I want to say.”
“I’ll be right back.” Hoss hurried from the barn, happy that he was finally able to do something to relieve some of Adam’s melancholy.