Summary: Hoss Cartwright is invited to a tea party. Cakes and seasoning on the menu. Few minutes stolen from the ordinary day…
Rated: K (1,575 words)
Tea Party
Story Notes:
An exercise in writing Cartwrights in an unexpected situation. Exercise writing child fanfic. Spiced with tea and cinnamon…
Etude Op. 3
”You are Miss Sis Emmerott,” little voice said, and set a piece of wood in front of Hoss. ”Drink your tea.”
Hoss bowed down and looked the girl in the eyes. ”But don’t you think I should be Mister Emmerott, sweetheart?”
The girl arranged some more splinters of wood that marked her teapot, tea set and spoons and trays for creamy cakes. Her blonde curls spun when she swung her head. ”No! Mister Emmerott don’t like tea and we have a tea party.”
”All right,” Hoss said, and changed his voice into a chill, high squeek. ”So, shall we have Darjeeling or Lapsang Souchong today?” He fluttered his eyelashes and smiled through lips that were pressed small.
Lotta furrowed her brow and pursed her lower lip warningly. ”Don’t laugh at me! Speak normal,” she ordered, snappishly.
Miss Sis Emmerott chuckled quietly and started to enjoy this tea party immensely.
Little Charlotta dug her nose and absent-mindedly wanted to put her hand to her mouth, but Miss Sis Emmerott pulled the hand away. After the finger had found a better way, wiping the outcome in the hems of the checkered dress, Little Miss Charlotta served tea and cakes from her finest porcelain tea set with gilded lilies and blue daffodils.
Then, she and Miss Sis Emmerott had a lengthy conversation about the latest society stories. Miss Sis Emmerott started to be a bit uncomfortable sitting so crouched on the dusty floor of the barn, but the determined blow from Little Miss Charlotta on her shin kept her sitting still for a little while longer.
”And how do you like the cakes, Miss Sis Emmerott?” Lotta asked, and drank tea from her tree bark, her little finger extended like she had seen Aunt Juliet do.
”I think they worked as a nice appetizer, Miss Charlotta, but I’m starting to be mighty powerful hungry.” Miss Sis Emmerott shifted and stretched his leg, that had started to be numb from squatting so long. ”Could I inquire, if you have seen Sir Carlupus the Second anywhere near us? Ma… Miss Sis Cartwritott might serve us a snack.”
Lotta remained silent, turned her back at him and kept arranging her tea trays. She started to talk to an imaginary friend.
Hoss stood up. ”Carl!” he shouted. ”Are you in the yard?”
A hurricane of loud voice and red-checkered shirt ran to the yard, galloped madly to the tea party and made a mess of the carefully laid bark cups and cakes. Sir Carlupus the Second waved a wooden sword and eyed Miss Sis Emmerott, now standing, from under his hat’s rim.
In fact, it wasn’t his hat at all, and Hoss had an idea whom he had met on the way that led from the world to their house.
Little Miss Charlotta started to cry. ”Calle! Pappa, Calle has ruined my tea party a-gain!”
Which, of course, made Miss Sis Emmerott adequately sorry.
Little Miss Charlotta’s little fists started pounding on the legs and the tummy of Sir Carlupus the Second who banged her head with his weapon, his sword.
”Hands off, Lotta!” he shouted, and tried to pull his sword from the hands of the little girl, who had seen her chance and tried to get hold of the most solid weapon nearby.
Hoss grabbed their collars and pulled them apart. ”Watch your mouths, both of you! What’s this kind of behavior, anyhow?” Carl and Lotta tried to kick at each other, and Hoss used his second step, the frown. ”Maybe your Grandpa ain’t staying for dinner, if you don’t behave.”
Lotta showed her tongue to Sir Carlupus, who blew his tongue back at her with a loud ”prrrrrrr.”
”Who said Grandpa would stay, anyhow?” A new voice interrupted – but only a little – and Hoss raised his head. Little Joe reined in the yard, flipping the imaginary rim of his now borrowed hat and flashing a smile at the children.
Ben rode behind him, watching the children as they spun on the ground at the same moment, when Joe flung his leg over the pommel and leapt down from the saddle. Carl was faster in running, and caught Joe way before his sister, and Joe tossed him high up in the air, giving him a rattling laugh. ”How are you doing with that epeé of yours, did you practice as I showed you?”
Carl shrunk and flushed. ”Shhhhh!” His secrecy made Joe shrink sheepishly, too. So, this was how the wooden sword had become Carl’s new favorite.
Ben cocked his eyebrow at Uncle Joe, before he smiled at the little girl who was anxious to get him down from the saddle and hold her up on his arms. ”Hey, Lotta, how’s Grandpa’s little lady doing?”
Lotta bit her lip and her eyes shone. ”Calle ate a worm when it done rained, faffa!”
Carl struggled out from Joe’s hold and adjusted Joe’s hat better on his head. ”Did not, faffa!”
”Did to.” Lotta eyed at her brother royally from the heights of Ben Cartwrights arms. ”It was thiiiiiiiis big.” She held her small palms almost two feet apart. Faffa Ben chuckled. Lotta seemed to have a lot of dust around her own mouth after the tea party.
”Was not!” Carl shouted and thrust his balled fists into his pocket, and eyed his boot tips that had become all of a sudden very interesting. ”And I done not ate it, either!”
“You sure?” Ben asked and eyed the girl and the boy gravely. “I can remember a time when your Pa, here, was mighty hungry all the time and ate at least a dozen worms one rainy fall.”
Hoss straightened up and dusted his vest, and left his thumbs in its sleeve holes. “Did not.”
“Did to,” Joe giggled, and pressed his hat on Carl’s eyes, causing a little murmur under the rim. “I think I remember some of those rainy days, too. Tried to make me have a taste, yuck.” He shivered and made a scary face.
Hoss snorted. “Grandpa and Uncle Joe are just making things up, kids.” He swayed on his heels and pressed his lips together before the next announcement. “Ol’ Hop Sing would have skinned me alive for eating worms instead of his delicate cuisine.”
Elin came out, wiping her hands in her apron before she offered her hand to Joe to shake. “I’ll skin him alive if he goes out eating worms, too!” She kept her hand reached out for Ben.
Ben put Lotta down and she started to run around, waving her arms and jumping unevenly, singing shrilly how ”Calle ate worms! Calle ate worms!” The target of her song stomped his foot and ran behind her, in circles, before Joe caught his hat and returned it on his own head.
”Leave it, Cally, you’ll never understand women.” He winked at his nephew and slapped his shoulder, repairing the boy’s hurt pride a bit.
Hoss swung his arm and patted Joe a bit too heavily on the shoulder. ”Come on in, Joe, Pa. Let’s have some coffee while we catch up.”
”No worms,” Elin warned, and straightened Carl’s shirt. Boy pushed her hands away from his garments and sneered. Elin ignored his reluctance. “My pantry is well taken care of. And I’m proud of it, too! I don’t want people to think, for a second, that you’d need to eat worms to fill up.”
”No worms. Can I stay outside?” Carl jumped from one foot to another, his head lolling shakily while he tried to contain his speed in only one place. He curled his hands under his chin like a puppy, and nearly panted.
Elin bit her lower lip but her eyes were laughing at the eager spirit of the boy. She released him from her hands and he sprang over to run the same circles as Lotta had run a few times already.
”Lotta drank mudwater!” he shouted, and grabbed his wooden epeé.
Hoss’ nose creased while he grinned at his Pa and his brother. ”So. Coffee, before the paperwork?”
Joe shook his shoulders and opened his arms in an innocent gesture. ”No worms, promise?”
”Aw, shut up,” Hoss grumbled, and aimed a push at Joe’s shoulder. He ducked easily and sneaked to the other side of Ben.
”Boys, boys,” Ben called, and raised his arms in a gesture he started to remember from a few years back. ”Let’s settle down and have that promised cup of coffee. We’ve got a lumber contract to meet and I need both of you boys for that.”
Joe tried to push Hoss behind Ben’s back, and Hoss had provided a stick he tried to use to poke at Joe. ”All right, Pa.”
“I’ve got cinnamon rolls instead,” Elin said, and showed Ben inside.
”Delightful, Elin. Just delightful.”
End Notes:
Bonanza characters belong to somebody else, my characters and events are mine.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
