This story was written for the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 12

Summary:  Worry over missing sons takes precedence over traditions.

Rating:  G    (1,600 words)

And behold, an angel of the Lord stood before them,
and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were greatly afraid.

Lords a Leaping
  ~~by A_Starry_Night

“Did you have any luck finding them, Hoss?”

The wind was cold and biting as the big man swung the door closed, his thick winter coat glittering with freshly-falling snow. His blue eyes were somber as he turned, placing his hat on the credenza.

“Ain’t nothin’ ta see out there, Pa,” Hoss said regretfully. “The storm’s comin’ up too quick.”

Ben felt his worry mount alarmingly. He moved away from the warm hearth with it’s softly glowing fire and made his way to the door, opening it despite himself. Snow, white and crisp, was already gathering in the Ponderosa’s expansive front yard and the storm’s chill wind was laden with even more. There was no sign of life to be seen anywhere, no sounds of approaching horses. Hoss was right; the mounting snow made it nearly impossible to track anything, and the horses would have trouble navigating through it. Defeated, Ben shut the door again and tried to ignore how finalizing its latch sounded.

‘Elizabeth, Marie, my loves, if ever you have watched over our sons, Adam and Joseph need you now.’

The grand ranch house was decorated lavishly for the coming Christmas: a tree sat bedecked in red satin ribbon and glass ornaments, pine boughs decorated the fireplace, and garland rested on the stairwell. Such affair usually armed his heart but now it seemed cold and drab.

Adam and Joe had gone on a trip together to Sacramento over a week ago; they had been due back yesterday.

“Pa, they’ll be alright.” Hoss’s comforting words were quiet but heartfelt. The quirk of his eyebrows, however, belied his sense of calm. “They know how ta take care o’ themselves out there, you know that.”

Ben nodded. He had never been able to his concern from any of his sons when one or more of them were not where they were supposed to be– nor did he really try to anymore. He went to seat himself on the edge of his chair by his desk and sighed. “It doesn’t stop me from worrying, son,” he said quietly, laying his hand on the ledger he had been working on only thirty minutes before. He frowned. Resting nearly behind one of his pencil holdings was a little woodcarving of a man caught leaping in mid-jump. “What in the world–?” Reaching out he held it up and blinked. He looked up at Hoss. “Where–?”

Hoss didn’t hide his grin soon enough from his father; caught, he couldn’t come up with a story. “It’s been sittin’ there since this mornin’, Pa.”

Ben looked back down at it, running a thumb gently down the little man’s face to wipe off some dust. The knowledge and history of the figurine’s history helped to soothe both Ben’s and Hoss’s fear– and they were greatly afraid— about Adam and Joe’s absence. The thought of his youngest made him realize. He grinned. “I’m guessing Joseph has been hiding these all over the house waiting for the time I’d finally notice them?”

They were a set. Twelve unique wood carvings all depicting various things and each with their own number. Between this little man’s legs was a number 12 painted a deep green. They were still bright for their age, although some of the paint near the feet was beginning to chip.

Hoss couldn’t help his smug little grin. “He started ta,” he explained. “Adam helped too. I’ve been hidin’ ’em since they’ve been gone.”

“Where’s the partridge?”

Ben’s son didn’t respond with words; instead he waved a hand in the direction of the tree. There, resting precariously on one of the branches about halfway up, Ben finally noticed the wooden bird. He couldn’t help his laugh. “Marie did the same thing,” he said quietly, wistfully.

Hoss knew when his father’s eyes grew thoughtful that Ben was remembering the past. He knew who had given the figurines as a gift but not how the gifts were initially given. “What d’ya mean, Pa?”

Ben’s smile was soft as he looked up at the tree. “It was our second Christmas together,” he explained. “Marie wanted to give me a suitable gift, but I suppose she was also in the mood to play a joke. And she always enjoyed ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ when she heard it sung.” He held up the figurine in his hands. “She ordered these twelve figurines each depicting the gifts given in the song from a woodworker in Sacramento and every day she would find a place in the house to hide one according to its number.” Looking around he realized that the figurines were cleverly set out in plain sight. A bird with a number one hidden in the tree; a turtle dove with a number two sitting amidst the pine boughs on the fireplace; a french hen labelled three; a colly bird number four; a simple ring painted gold numbered five. He didn’t spot the others yet but he supposed he could make a game of finding them later when his sons were all home safely.

“Mama did seem ta enjoy herself then,” Hoss chuckled, blue eyes bright with mirth. Marie’s quiet humor that December years ago made a lot more sense now.

“That she did, son. That she did.” Ben was just setting the figurine back in its place on the desk when the loud snorting of a horse drew them back to the present. Hoss reached the door first and swung it open.

“Hey, big brother,” Joe’s cheery voice called over the wind. Ben reached Hoss’s side to find both Adam and Joe snow-covered and stiff in their saddles, scarves pulled over their noses and hats pulled low over their foreheads. “Coffee on?”

A noise from the kitchen alerted the Cartwrights to Hop Sing. The little Chinese cook had been waiting anxiously for the return of the rest of the family but had hidden it behind his cooking. “Coffee on stove,” he called. “Dinner ready for eating. Hurry or Hop Sing will feed it all to Mistah Hoss.”

~/~/~/~/~

“Sorry we were so late coming back, Pa,” Adam said an hour later. Both he and Joe were seated as close to the fire as possible, wrapped up in extra blankets and their chilled feet on the hearth. Steam from the coffee wafted up gently as they warmed their hands on the mugs they held. “The stage leaving Sacramento had a slight accident when its wheel broke. Then of course the snow came.” The wry exasperation in his tone was a familiar one; whereas both Hoss and Joe enjoyed the snow and didn’t mind it so much, Adam was not one to like it. It made for a lot of inconvenience.

“Roads were icy,” Joe added. “Both the horses slipped a couple of times.”

Ben was relieved beyond words to have all of his sons under his roof once again but he didn’t want to show just how much. “You didn’t have to push so hard, sons,” he said carefully. “If it was treacherous it would have been better for you both to spend the night somewhere.”

The look Joe sent him was expressive and let him know that Ben’s response was called out. Adam was careful not to meet his eyes but his father saw the slightest smile curve his mouth. “We wanted to make it home,” his youngest said, then continued with a feisty grin, “We know how you worry, Pa.”

“I do not–” Ben stopped himself from finishing the sentence, knowing his denial would be a lie.

Adam was looking at the desk. “Our little lord leaping is facing a different direction now,” he remarked.

Ben frowned, taken aback. “How did you know that?”

“Logical conclusion,” Adam said simply.

“Why’d you put it in such an obvious place, Hoss?” Joe asked, frowning at his older brother.

“‘Cause Pa didn’t notice the others, shortshanks. It needed ta be in a spot he’d see it, otherwise Christmas woulda come an’ gone and he wouldn’t have seen ’em at all.”

The response made all three of Ben’s sons laugh and even though Ben kept up appearances by acting exasperated he couldn’t help but feel his heart laugh with them. Christmas was a time for miracles and good tidings, and he couldn’t help but feel that he had received both this night. Joe and Adam had made it home safely without too much incident.

“I’m surprised you found your mother’s wood carvings, Joe,” he said now. “I wasn’t sure what had been done with them.”

“Wasn’t my idea, Pa,” Joe replied, shaking his head. “I didn’t bring ’em down from the attic.”

“Then who–?”

“I did,” Adam explained quietly, looking up now to meet his gaze. A fond smile tugged at his mouth. “Marie did have a lot of fun hiding them the year she gave them to you as a gift, Pa. And since this is my last Christmas here I thought I might have a little bit of fun myself this season.”

Ben was moved beyond words at his eldest’s explanation. It was rare when Adam allowed his sentimentality to show, and he realized the thought behind the game was just as important as the game itself. It was a gift in a way. “Merry Christmas, boys,” he said hoarsely, struggling to hide the unsteadiness of his voice.

And they all responded as one: “Merry Christmas, Pa.”

---

 

Link to the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 13 – A Cartwright Christmas Carol – Part 3 by PSW

 

 

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