Summary:  When Ben finds himself in a dire situation, he finds he has to draw upon unexpected resources.  A Camp Pines 2014 collaboration by Belle and Mumu74.

Rating: K+    (1,420 words)

 

Lessons 

Sometimes, it just didn’t pay to be Ben Cartwright.

Of course, being Ben Cartwright was often a very good thing. He’d enjoyed the love and companionship of three wonderful (although very different) women who had blessed him with three wonderful (although very different) sons. His hard work and vision brought considerable wealth. For reasons he could never adequately explain to himself and would never defend, that wealth had also conferred upon him a mantle of authority and a certain amount of fame. Moreover, because he was a righteous, intelligent man, people tended to listen to him, and they frequently deferred to his opinions.

And it was just possible that Ben had come to rely on that deference a little too heavily.

XXXXXXXXXX

Ben had awakened that morning with a throbbing headache that persisted through his breakfast coffee. Massaging his temples, he’d kept his eyes closed as he listened to Adam painstakingly outline the myriad problems at the timber camp. Ben had missed his chance for a plateful of flapjacks because while his eyes were closed Hoss finished the last morsels. Joseph’s usual morning shenanigans had lacked their usual charm because Ben blamed Joe for his headache in the first place. Joe knew good and well that Ben was unable to sleep properly while his youngest son was out half the night following chaos and calamity through every poker game and saloon in Virginia City. It was just plain lack of consideration on the part of the seventeen year old, and Ben ended up paying the price.

Ordinarily, Ben didn’t holler first thing in the morning, but hollering seemed necessary at the time. Clearly, nothing got done around the ranch unless Ben took charge and made sure things were done properly. Before departing, Ben issued specific instructions to each son. The boys kept their eyes on the floor, and if they were smirking at the sight of their father’s temper, they knew him well enough to hide it.

Later that morning when Ben had run across perennial nuisance, Caleb Padgett, in the north pasture driving a handful of Ponderosa cows toward the ramshackle Padgett homestead, he’d been in no mood to mince words.

After fixing Caleb with a stern gaze that ordinarily resulted in quick compliance, Ben had been surprised when cooperation hadn’t been forthcoming. Voicing his displeasure also failed to produce the desired effect. By that point, Ben’s patience had been pushed to its limit, and he’d attempted to wrest control of the small herd from Caleb. Unfortunately, that hadn’t been one of his better decisions.

So here he was lying dazed, bleeding, and alone in a sea of tall grass so thick he couldn’t even peer through the stalks. He had no gun to signal for help, no horse to ride home, and no water to quench his clawing thirst. He had nothing but the blue sky overhead until the quickly advancing darkness crowded out his vision and swallowed up that blue sky altogether.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Ben opened his eyes to an inky darkness softened only by starlight. Since he heard nothing but the noise of his own harsh breathing and the call of cicadas, he knew he was still alone. Every movement ignited fierce pain in his shoulder and behind his eyes. Lying motionless seemed the prudent choice.

What an unholy mess! Ben was a great believer in honesty and taking responsibility for one’s actions. Since nothing more strenuous than contemplation was possible, he had ample opportunity to consider just how he had gotten himself into this situation.  Although he was feeling too sick to actually open his eyes, he had no difficulty remembering how he had started his day.

Irritable and ornery. Full of myself. Certain that a mere look and word from Ben Cartwright would be enough to part any sea. Old fool.

When the worst of the pain and nausea eventually passed, and Ben was able to open his eyes again, he thought of his sons and wondered idly if they realized yet that their pa was in trouble.

He was certain that Adam would never have found himself in this predicament. His oldest son was a master of emotion and logic. Ben couldn’t imagine Adam attempting the stunts he’d pulled today. No wonder Padgett was able to get the drop on him. Maybe Adam could give his old man some lessons in keeping a cool head.

Of course, Hoss would never have worked himself into such a fret in the first place. Hoss accepted life’s little troubles and obstacles graciously even as he celebrated the ordinary blessings which most men took for granted. Shifting uncomfortably on the cold ground, Ben had to admit that Hoss might very well have spoken compassionately to Padgett. Was Caleb in dire circumstance? Had he needed money? Certainly Ben hadn’t stopped to ask the wayward neighbor for his reasons. Perhaps, Hoss could find the time soon to give his pa lessons in sympathy and forgiveness.

Ben found himself smiling when he thought of Little Joe. His youngest child might have decided that hard work on a day as hot as his temper was a bad idea. More likely, the boy would have sneaked off to the lake to wash away his bad mood. When was the last time Ben had sneaked off to swim in the lake? Try as he might, he really couldn’t seem to remember.

Maybe Little Joe has a favorite swimming hole . . .

XXXXXXXXXX

The tall grass was soaked with early morning dew when Ben woke again at dawn. It occurred to him that although things hadn’t gotten any better for him, at least things weren’t terribly worse. He was still alive, and he still had his wits about him. Laughing at a sudden inspiration, Ben swiped his hands repeatedly over the wet grass, wiping the cool dampness across his face and mouth. It was a small but welcome blessing.

Thank you, Hoss.

Somewhat refreshed by his efforts, Ben considered his situation. Adam certainly wouldn’t lie around and wait for someone to stumble over him. No sir, Adam would engineer a solution, no doubt. Yet, when Ben tried to put himself in Adam’s place, the only image that came to mind was windmills. Silly notion. He’d always told the boy not to let his education get in the way of his thinking. Yet, here he was injured and hidden in the tall grass thinking about windmills towering above the landscape visible for miles. . .

Thank you, Adam. That’s just what I needed.

Ben cautiously rolled onto his uninjured side and then over to his stomach. That little effort triggered waves of nausea and searing pain in his shoulder. The urge to lie back and surrender to the pain was nearly overwhelming.

Stop it! I’m fine. Gotta keep moving until I have what I need.

He inched forward on his belly, pulling himself through the grass with his good arm. The sun was high and hot before he found it—a tree limb nearly as long as Ben that had been blown down in some storm. Panting with exhaustion and soaked in sweat and blood, he rested until he could find the strength to knot his lavender neckerchief at the top of the branch. Muttering words he hadn’t voiced since his days aboard ship, he twisted the opposite end of the branch solidly into the ground beside him. He gave into his exhaustion and fell back. Well above the sea of grass, he could see his neckerchief flutter in the breeze marking his location. He imagined his stubborn youngest son applauding his efforts.

Little Joe, I couldn’t have done it without you.

XXXXXXXXXXX

He hadn’t heard them calling for him. He never knew when they spotted his makeshift flag and raced toward him. He didn’t feel their frantic touches.

When he opened his eyes, the view of the sky and grass had been replaced with the sight of his room, the warmth of a fire, and the comfort of his own bed. Before he blinked twice, all three sons gathered around his bed to welcome him back.

They tried to give him the credit. They praised him for hanging on. They complimented his inventiveness. Ben knew better. Before slipping into healing sleep, he told them what he had discovered.

“I had good teachers.”

 

 

Author’s note:  Unfortunately during 2016, the links to the images associated with this story were lost due to the policy changes at Photobucket in not allowing sharing with third party sites.

 

Tags:  Adam Cartwright, Ben Cartwright, Hoss Cartwright, Joe / Little Joe Cartwright