Summary: Following the events of the Prime of Life, Ben thinks everything has returned to normal… until his oldest son comes to him with open wounds Ben thought had long been healed. The missing conversation between Adam and Ben from my story “Never Again.”
Word count: 3,370  Rating: G

The Never Again Series
Never Again
A Father’s Promise

Written in honor of Lorne Greene for the “My Heart Belongs to Daddy” Challenge.

Author’s note: This is the requested sequel to my story “Never Again,” a What Happened Between/Next for the episode the Prime of Life. Reading that one first isn’t necessary, however, it might help to have seen the episode before reading this particular story. Also, some of the emotions expressed by Adam in this story might seem a bit out of character at first, since his character is often the more emotionally stable one. I look at it this way: the old wounds and emotions addressed in this story have been festering inside Adam for many years, so I think we can allow the man a few tears every now and then. 😉 Enjoy!

A Father’s Promise

“Hey, Pa?”

He hadn’t heard his son come down, at first. In fact, it was a few minutes before Ben noticed the figure hovering in front of his desk, all hunched and hesitant.

“You got a minute…?”

On the outside, nothing appeared to be amiss. It was simply a son coming to ask his father a question… At half-past one in the morning.

“Of course,” he replied with a nod, shoving his work off to the side.

When Adam pulled up a chair, Ben had to admit his eldest son’s facade was well-crafted. Expression neutral, face calm.

But Ben knew better. The secret lay in the eyes, and Adam’s dark orbs swirled with a burden he was no doubt aching to release.

Hands clasped, Ben spoke first when it became clear Adam wasn’t going to say anything. “What’s on your mind, son?”

A brief moment of hesitation. A flash of uncertainty. Then, Adam glanced toward the discarded papers. “Are we still on time to make the deadline?”

Ben nodded. “Actually, we’re now the slightest bit ahead of schedule.”

“Ahead?” Adam’s brows shot up. “How’d we manage that?”

“Don’t ask me. I might run the numbers, but I can’t explain them.” He flashed a smile, hoping to pass one on to his son. The expression didn’t catch as Adam’s face maintained its calculating creases. “Must’ve been the fact that I have three hard-working sons who know just how to run things when I’m not there.”

If anything, this statement made the creases deepen. Well done, Ben. Sometimes, you really don’t know what to say, do you?

Inger always did…

“Right,” came Adam’s mumbled response.

What was meant as an encouragement only succeeded in darkening the overall mood.

Ben leaned forward a bit, studying his son closely now. It didn’t look as if he’d slept since they’d arrived home that day. In fact, he wasn’t sure his son had gotten very much sleep at all lately.

“But,” he began, never taking his eyes off Adam, who kept his own stare fixed on the papers, “you and I both know you didn’t come down here to talk about the trestle.”

Finally, Adam cracked a smile, though it lacked the mirth Ben was looking for. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Well, it is almost two o’clock in the morning.”

At this, his son’s gaze shifted over to the old grandfather clock, as if only just realizing the time. “Right, uh…”

And with the everlasting patience of a father, Ben waited. He could practically see the way his son’s mind went into overtime, working out the best way to phrase his question. Adam had always possessed a certain eloquence of speech, one Ben had come to admire and even rely on over the years. It helped with negotiating contracts, making deals, and, far too often, getting his brothers out of tight spots.

It didn’t, however, seem to be helping Adam much at the moment. Whatever was on his mind required careful thought and consideration—and words his son couldn’t quite seem to find.

“Pa,” his son began at last, voice thoughtful, quiet. Clearing his throat a little, Adam tried again. “Pa, I need you to… Well, I was wondering if you would… would do something for me.”

When Adam grew silent, his expression ever contemplative—and still lined with those deepening trenches of hesitation—Ben nodded, hoping he could coax whatever was on his son’s mind out into the open.

“What is it, son?”

At first, it seemed as if Adam had a hard time looking at him. Now, Ben found his gaze locked in his eldest’s intense and troubled stare.

“Would you…” Adam sucked in a breath and Ben found himself holding his own. “Would you promise me something?” Just when Ben thought he would have to pull more teeth, Adam continued, “Promise me you won’t do that again…?”

Hoping his confusion wouldn’t show, Ben inclined his head. Before he could ask any clarifying questions, however, Adam pressed on, his hesitation morphing quickly into a rapid urgency to make sense of his request.

Without making any sense whatsoever.

“I know you promised once before, and I know you tried to keep that promise—and I know it was a long time ago, so that’s definitely a factor.” As Ben was hit with one rapid-fire statement after another, he racked his brain to find something—anything—that would give him even the slightest clue as to what his son was going on about. “And I’ve taken that into consideration, believe me, but I always come to the same conclusion that it could happen again because it happened before—and it happened now—and I know you don’t mean to do it, but you do—do it, I mean—and I’ve been trying to reconcile myself with it—really, I have—but I can’t—” Adam shook his head, elbows on the desk, his hands flying to his temples as if to massage away all the pain and confusion. “I know it’s stupid—and I don’t want you to doubt my faith in you—but I just don’t think I can get past this if you don’t promise me you won’t do it again.”

“Adam,” Ben interjected, hoping to stop another jumbled tangent, “do what?”

When Adam’s gaze met his father’s, drifting back up from his hunched position, Ben was almost certain he’d heard his own heart shatter.

“Abandon us.”

And for a moment, Ben couldn’t breathe.

The words—so simple, yet so full of anguish—stole his breath away and he wasn’t sure he’d ever catch it again. In a flash, scenes from the past week pummelled his mind. Gabe, the camp, the workers, the accident.

No, the tragedy.

And his sons… Their desperate faces, pleading with him to get back up and fight. To be the father he always had been—the one they needed.

The one I couldn’t be. Not then.

Sure, not then. But what about now?

Yes, there were still times he wanted to close off the world again. To hide beneath his bathrobe and take a step back from it all—his only assurance that his carelessness wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

Sometimes, it was tempting to slip back into that blurry state, and yet, he knew he couldn’t. And he wouldn’t. Not again.

Not when his son just said something like that. Something so absolutely soul-crushing that he couldn’t find the words to respond.

Adam had the words, though. Even when they were a jumbled mess of anguish and anxiety, Adam always seemed to have the words.

“Now, don’t get me wrong,” he was saying when Ben finally tuned back in, shaking away the dull buzzing that clouded his mind, “it’s not that I don’t have faith in you or that I can’t trust your word when you give it—there isn’t anyone who believes in you more than I do.” He was rushing through the explanation like a defendant running out of time to plead his case. It made Ben’s head spin and sent cracks tearing through his heart. “But I’ve watched this happen twice now, and I’m only thinking of Hoss and Joe. He was so young last time, he couldn’t possibly understand. Even now, he’s still so young, and he needs you more than anyone. You just can’t keep… Well, if you could just promise that you wouldn’t—”

Ben hadn’t moved fast enough to save Gabe, and that would haunt him until his dying day, but he was not going to move too slow to save his son. Three large strides had him out of his chair and around the desk, closing the distance between them as he pulled Adam into a tight embrace.

Adam’s reaction was immediate, sucking in a sharp breath and melting into his father’s arms.

“I’m sorry.” It was so quiet, Ben almost thought his ears were playing tricks on him. Then, he felt Adam’s grip tighten ever-so-slightly. “I’m sorry, I just…” Another shaky breath. “I don’t know… I just can’t seem to…”

Silence shrouded the room after that as father and son clung to each other.

Ben found his thoughts racing beyond all manner of comprehension.

Twice. Adam had said he’d done this twice.

But when—

Images of Marie and all those long, blurry months after flashed before his eyes at dizzying speeds. Adam looking after the boys in his absence. Adam taking care of the ranch. Adam taking Joe to school and putting both boys to bed, even when he wouldn’t be getting any rest himself for another few hours. Adam dealing with the gossip in town. Oh, Ben had heard some of it when he’d returned from that dark hole he’d buried himself in for so many months.

“That boy’s too young to be runnin’ things all by hisself.”

“Did you hear Ben Cartwright left his oldest son to run his ranch for him while he was gone? Isn’t he only seventeen?”

“I thought he was sixteen…”

“No, he’s much older than that, I’m sure of it.”

“I bet Adam made certain those sweet boys were taken care of.”

“Adam, the poor dear. Seems he’s always there to pick up the pieces.”

Adam…

Adam.

Always Adam.

Since Boston, Adam had been his rock. The mere presence of that little baby had kept Ben from sinking into despair after the loss of Elizabeth. Then, as the boy grew, he became more than an adorable face—he became Ben’s steadfast companion. Always understanding, always helpful and encouraging. Adam had been—and still was in many ways—his rock. A steadfast presence in the swirling storms of life.

Now, that rock was crumbling. Perhaps it had been for some time and Ben just hadn’t noticed. Maybe it had been slowly chipped away by memories and emotions that were never addressed. Emotions kept hidden for fear they might only add to the turmoil and make things worse.

“Oh, son,” Ben breathed. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

But Adam was already pulling out of the embrace, hands swiping at his eyes with a swift yet fierce vengeance.

“I just…” Clearing his throat, Adam spoke now as if they were merely having another conversation about the trestle. “I don’t doubt you, Pa. I never have. I just need your assurance that it won’t happen again. I… For my own peace of mind, I just need to hear you say it, even if you don’t mean it.”

“Even if I don’t…” With a sigh, Ben shook his head, then gestured to the living room, where a warm fire ate away at the last of the logs. “Come on. I think we’d better sit down for a minute.”

Silently, Adam followed his father to the settee and they both sat down together, one on each end. His gaze drifted to the dying fire and Ben took a moment to examine his son.

Once again, everything seemed to be just fine and dandy on the outside. Adam’s appearance boasted a neutral expression, focused eyes, and relaxed body language. From the looks of things, they could’ve been sitting down to have a nice glass of whiskey before bed. Normally, Adam would pull out a book. Ben would observe his son and enjoy the peace for a few moments before grabbing a newspaper or a book of his own and settling in for the night.

This time, however, as Ben observed his son, he could almost hear the gears grinding in Adam’s head. Thinking, processing, trying to arrange his next words in the most effective combination. 

Taking a breath—one that wasn’t as steadying as Ben hoped it would be—he tried to maintain some semblance of control over his voice. “It seems I owe you an apology.”

“Now, Pa, I didn’t mean—”

Ben just held up a silencing hand. “No, Adam, you had your turn to apologize. Now it’s mine. Though, I’m still not exactly sure what you thought you had to apologize for in the first place.” A defense lingered on the tip of his son’s tongue, he could tell, but he wouldn’t let Adam make any more phony apologies until he had his chance to speak his piece.

“Not just for what I put you boys through this last week,” Ben continued, “but for leaving like I did all those years ago. Now, before you make up some sort of fool excuse for me, let me finish.”

Adam, for his part, settled deeper into the cushions, his lips tightly pursed.

“You can’t make excuses for my actions because there aren’t any. Causes, yes. Explanations, maybe. But excuses?” Ben shook his head. “No. No, son, don’t even try. I owe you an apology, plain and simple.”

“Pa—”

“After Marie died…” A sigh emptied his lungs as he thought of her beautiful face. So many memories, so much lost time… “I took more than my fair share of time to grieve, and in doing so, robbed you of yours. How could you grieve properly when you had so much to take care of in my absence? You’re right: I abandoned you.”

Ben paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and survey his son. Though his mouth remained firmly shut, Adam’s body language made it clear he was busting at the seems to speak his mind.

“You, Hoss, Joe. I abandoned you all. And not just once, but twice now. For that, I’m truly sorry. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive an old fool.”

“Of course we forgive you, Pa,” Adam replied, speaking for his brothers—as was his habit even in their absence.

A slight smile tugged at Ben’s mouth in light of his son’s ready gift of forgiveness, yet he couldn’t quite bring the expression into bloom. Not yet. Not when so much still weighed heavy on his mind.

“You’re right,” he continued. “Joe’s young, and I’d like to think that he still needs me from time to time, but you said you were only thinking of Hoss and Joe. You’ve told me what they need, now I’d like to hear what you need.”

Adam merely lifted a brow.

“You may be the oldest, but you’re not invincible. And you’re not any less deserving than your brothers because of it. Now, tell me, when you think about you, what comes to your mind? What do you need, son?”

Adam’s reply was too quick. “Nothing, Pa. I have everything I need.”

A knowing expression lifted Ben’s brows. “So what you said earlier, that didn’t mean anything?” Adam’s gaze fell to the floor. “Talk to me, Adam. That’s why we’re here right now. As your father, that’s what I’m here for.”

This time, a thoughtful expression clouded Adam’s face and his gaze drifted to the far wall behind Ben’s head.

“Do you think you could do it?” Adam asked after a moment, his voice quiet, almost meditative. “I know you’ve always taught us to ‘let our yes be yes and our no be no,’* but do you think you could promise me? I need… Well, it’d be reassuring to hear, anyway.”

Before Ben could make any sort of reply, Adam pressed on. “I know you were still here this time around, but it felt as if you weren’t. You were so unlike yourself, you might as well have been gone. And I know this slump didn’t last nearly as long as it did last time, but… Well, I missed you, Pa. It’s… hard. To watch someone you care about so much go through something like that. It’s even harder when you know you can do anything about it—that you can’t help them like you want to. I don’t need much,” he closed with a sigh, “I just need to hear you say it. It’ll help me sleep better at night, at the very least.”

Ben reached out for his son’s hand and held it tight. “Adam, I promise that I will never abandon you or your brothers again of my own free will. And I’m sorry that I put such a hole in your heart.”

Between a series of rapid blinks, Adam nodded. Nothing came out when he opened his mouth, but that didn’t keep him from trying. Not normally vulnerable to emotions, the sight of Adam’s eyes watering over brought tears to Ben’s own dark orbs.

Blowing out a sigh, Adam nodded again. “Thank you,” he managed at last.

“It’s the very least I can do, after everything.”

At this, Adam smiled. “And yet it means more than you’ll ever know.”

There was so much Ben still wanted to say; to ask. After all these years, Adam hadn’t forgotten what happened after Marie. The memories and emotions had lingered under that calm exterior, and now Ben had awakened them with the events of the past week. You old fool. How could you not see? How could you not see what was right in front of you? All this time.

Right in front of you…

Why had Adam decided to come to him now? What had given him the push he’d needed? And why didn’t he come to me sooner?

Knowing his son, Ben might never discover the answer.

Even after all these years, Ben was certain Adam hadn’t told him everything he’d gone through during his father’s absence. All the problems that could have arisen with the ranch hands simply because he wasn’t his father. All the hard days and long nights. All those months, having no one to go to for help. No shoulder to cry on.

Because who do you go to when you’re the one at the top?

All this and more, Ben ached to talk about. There were so many little threads he hadn’t tied with his son, and it had taken this conversation for him to realize it.

But Adam had already moved on. He was making small talk about the trestle again, expressing his disbelief that they were ahead of schedule and the relief he’d feel when it was all over.

The time for emotional vulnerability had passed.

“There’s a new theater troupe coming to San Francisco in a couple weeks.” The comment was off-handed; Adam might as well have been discussing the day’s weather. “Read about it in the paper.  If I’m not mistaken, I believe they specialize in Shakespearean productions.”

Ben knew his son better than that.

“I’m sure Joe and Hoss could think of better ways to spend their break—once the trestle’s done, of course,” Adam continued. “But, I don’t know. I think it’d be interesting to see.”

“Well…” Ben leaned back, feigning deep thought and consideration. “After how hard I’ve been working you boys lately, I think we’re all due for an extended trip out of town.”

Adam’s smile was subtle; the joy in his eyes unmistakable.

As a comfortable silence settled between them, Ben went to grab a bottle of his good whiskey and two crystal glasses.

“To the trestle,” Adam said, raising his glass in a toast.

Ben just smiled. “To my sons. In all the world, there’s none finer.”

“And no father better.”

Ben wasn’t sure about that, but he nodded all the same.

A small clink echoed through the room as the edges of their glasses met.

Maybe the time for vulnerable discussion had passed for now, Ben mused, but that didn’t mean it was gone forever. As he enjoyed a quiet drink with his eldest son, he contented himself by reviewing what he’d learned that night.

His eyes had been opened, and while it was tempting to dwell on the past—hoping in vain that he could take back the damage he’d done to his son—he would purpose himself to be more aware going forward.

Let them never feel abandoned again.

Please, God, help me never to repeat the past.

Help me to be more clear-sighted; to notice the subtle signs of distress and hurt.

And if it be in Your will, let my heart break instead of theirs. Give me their hurt so they don’t have to bear it. Let me take it from them however I am able.

Please, God, he finished as he studied his son, let them never feel abandoned again.

The End

* Matthew 5:37, NIV Bible.

Tags:  Adam Cartwright, APM, Ben Cartwright, Family, Grief